The Furious Five versus the Super Squadron – Part Three

The hero known as Snapshot was in the training room at the Squadron’s headquarters blowing off steam by running the most dangerous threat-level training routine available. He fired off a grappling arrow and, one-handed, hauled himself out of the line of fire of one of the droids even as he let fly another arrow to net the pesky drone and reduce incoming missiles. Landing nimbly he loosed a final arrow that exploded on impact, trashing the droid, and sighed.

He knew he’d catch hell from Captain Capitol for the damage and the expense of replacing the droid but his thoughts were elsewhere. 

He was missing the woman he loved who was halfway across the world, on a mission, and who had no idea she was the object of his desire. He knew he should have told her of his feelings but Spider Blaque was a fiercely independent woman and he hadn’t known how to approach the subject; his usual brash charm and humour totally failing when up against her French sang-froid. Even thinking of her made his dick throb in the tight confines of his neoprene costume and the archer shouldered his bow and stepped towards the door hoping a quick cold shower would snap him out of his funk and cool his ardour.

The door to the training room slid open and Snapshot’s eyes widened as he realised he was not along in this part of the mansion. Standing in the corridor were three figures; two costumed and one in a ratty old trench coat. Snapshot’s hands moved like lightening and his bow was aimed and ready in a microsecond as he assessed the potential threat in front of him.

“I don’t know how you got past security but you’ve made a very big mistake breaking into this building today – I’m just in the mood for busting heads and you’ll fit the bill nicely!”

The string of his bow, drawn so tightly, disintegrated. Snapshot was stunned but barely blinked as he hurled the arrow he’d had cocked down the corridor with his trademark accuracy. The arrow hit the ground just in front of the trio of strangers but, instead of exploding as it should have done, the carpet appeared to rise up and swallow the missile. 

“What the heck!”

Reaching back for another arrow to lob at his assailants, Snapshot felt his quiver lurch and fall away from his back. Undeterred he launched himself at the two men and one woman in his path, determined to let them know with his fists how bad a mistake they’d made in taking him on. Snapshot was a highly trained gymnast and fighter even without his trusty bow and he was confident he could handle these three as they looked physically quite unimposing. He was also aware that his comrade, Big Boy, was elsewhere in the mansion and he knew he needed to create quite the fracas to draw his attention in case his giant strength was needed here.

The taller of the two men smiled and Snapshot felt something grasp his ankles and he fell forward. He looked down to see what had snagged him and could see the fabric of his boots was fluctuating and meshing so that within a moment his feet were trapped in one tight wrap of fabric. The mesh of his neoprene leggings was also shifting and soon his legs were bound together to the lower part of his muscular thighs. The carpet in the corridor seemed to come alive and he was soon held, face down, by his wrists to the very floor.

Snapshot exclaimed in shock and found that his mouth would not close. More fabric wadded itself in front of his amazed face and soon he was effectively gagged and helpless at the feet of his protagonists; none of whom had really even moved much during this ordeal.

Even as he tried to break free the archer could feel something amiss and he became aware that his dick was hardening. He was relieved that his assailants could not see his erection as it strained against the tight fabric of his shorts but confused as to why this was happening to him now, of all times. Snapshot’s penis felt somehow different and he realised that it was getting bigger than he had ever felt it before. When it continued expanding in his tight uniform he finally guessed that his opponents had something to do with this new development and it felt like his dick was a full 12 inches big and as thick as his wrist. His massive hard-on was now raging and he really wanted to grind one out against the carpet – he had never felt this level of desperation to cum and he could not stop himself from thrusting against the floor to try and gain release.

Trench coat smiled down at the archer at his feet.

Suddenly Snapshot cried out into his gag as, without warning, a new and dreadful imperative racked his body. He felt his bladder and bowels become acutely heavy and he was instantly bursting for a piss and very aware that he needed a sizeable poop also. His mammoth dick remained hard and his need to cum did not abate during these few seconds and so the pain, as he failed to hold on and pissed himself, was excruciating; his hot urine forcing its way up his tight urethra and sending shudders through his pinioned brawny frame.

“Aw, baby’s gone pee-pee!” laughed the man in the trench coat as hot piss soaked Snapshot’s costume and pooled out on the floor under the hapless archer.

“Mmmmfff! Mmmfff!” Snapshot brought his bound legs forward to raise his groin out of the puddle he’d created and give his erection some space but this only succeeded in raising his butt to a level that made his efforts to hold his shit more difficult and more visible to his attackers. In this new position, with his upper body tight to the floor and his butt raised, Snapshot felt his costume change at his groin and his monster dick flopped free from a hole that appeared in his shorts. The carpet at his feet was also moving and soon he was trapped in his ignominious position; his naked, hard, and ridiculously large dick clearly visible to all.

As the piss cooled on his thighs Snapshot felt the urge to poop intensify and his renegade cock jerked as his prostate was stimulated by the huge load in his bowels. He began farting loudly, unable to stop himself, and he groaned in embarrassment as laughter from his tormentors reached his ears and they commented on every flatulent outburst from his raised muscular butt. The helpless archer knew that he was seconds away from soiling his pants in front of the laughing villains but couldn’t stop the inexorable flow as his bowels turned traitor on him.

Slowly, accompanied by hoots of laughter from the three people standing over his wretched body and the soft popping noise as his crap forced its way into his shorts, Snapshot pooped himself. The occasional muffled fart and his groans of disgusted relief were the only sounds he made for a short while and eventually he lay there, exhausted by his ordeal, his once-cute bubble butt tented and distended appallingly by the weight of his acrid load. His dick still throbbed embarrassingly and he was utterly crushed and humiliated without even knowing who these people were and why they were doing this to him.

The man in the trench coat snapped his fingers and Snapshot’s awful torment came to an end as he descended into unconsciousness.

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