A little about this story, to start off with. This story is all about the slow burn. I've been heavily inspired by TheTalkMan, and I love the slow buildup of his stories. This will be a story with a lot of teasing and build-up, because why have firecrackers when you can have an M80 with some patience? If you're not interested in this, I'll have some other stuff coming down the pipeline which is less about teasing and denial. Just be patient. Oh, and this falls in the usual literotica vein of giant, unrealistic tits, asses, and cocks. I'm not about that subtlety thing. Anyways, to the story!
*****
Pain lanced through Jimmy West's head as he returned to consciousness. It would seem, for the time being, he had been kidnapped. He was cuffed to a table in a dark room, presumably with some kind of death beam just out of view. Maybe a sawblade.
To call Jimmy a hero would be a bit generous, of course. He'd more accurately be described as a sidekick. His title was Satellite, the trusty and ever-present compatriot to Solarus. They'd been through thick and thin together, but at the moment, Solarus was nowhere to be found.
Satellite groaned as the pain throbbed behind his eyes. From the sore spot on the back of his head, he could gather he'd been ambushed. This was not a new procedure for Satellite, unfortunately. He was captured more often than he'd like to admit, and while the whole thing was becoming a bit rote, he never got used to the feeling of taking a sap to the back of his head.
What Satellite didn't realize, however, was this kidnapping was not like the others. The usual procedure would be a monologue, a deathtrap, and Solarus bursting in at the right moment to save the day. They'd fight their way out of the evil lair, throw out a witty turn of phrase (That was where Satellite usually came in), and be ready for whatever new adventure came their way.
Unfortunately, there were processes in play beyond Satellite's understanding. Satellite had suffered the single worst fate any sidekick could endure. The readers weren't interested in him anymore. Of course he didn't realize that he, or that everyone he knew was, fictional. That didn't make it any less true, though. And, as is so often the case with super-assistants, their existence relies on the whims of the audience. The audience had grown tired of Satellite, and the writers were taking Solarus in a new direction.
When a sidekick is written out, they usually suffer an ignoble death. It's a change-up, the hero gets a "loss" handed to them in order to humble them, "the one they couldn't save". The writers get to can an unpopular character, and things are fresh again. Everyone wins. Occasionally, though, something different happens.
Something different was going to happen to Satellite.
"So, The Eternal Companion is awake. I hope you weren't hurt too badly." said an unfamiliar voice. A woman's voice. Solarus had a few women in his rogue's gallery, but none of them had a voice quite so sensual. Just the sound of it made Satellite's loins twitch in response. This was an especially unusual response, because Satellite was the definition of chaste. His only lover was justice. Also, the writers had never deigned to write him a girlfriend.
"Who's there?" Satellite demanded. He tried to peer through the darkness at whoever was speaking, but all he could make out were vague shapes. Satellite attempted to lift his head, but found his neck was bound to the table by a steel collar. All he was able to do was turn his head to the sides.
"Who am I?" the voice asked rhetorically. "I don't see any reason to rush introductions." A giggle. It was a sinister giggle that dripped with hidden intention. "I like to take things slow. It's about anticipation." The voice began to circle, walking around the table just out of sight. The sharp report of high heels echoed through the room. It was always high heels with villainesses. "Trust me, in time, you will know me."
"I don't know about that." Satellite said. He relaxed, suddenly confident in his position. "I feel like a friend of mine will be spoiling your plans. He has impeccable timing." Satellite smirked.
"Yes, Solarus, he does always seem to show up at the right moment, doesn't he?" The voice said. It seemed unperturbed. That didn't bother Satellite, though. They were always unperturbed. Villains always thought their plans were completely flawless. That's what made pointing out the flaws so fun.
"Well," the voice continued, "I wouldn't bank on that. This satellite has left orbit." Another giggle. Satellite rolled his eyes. All of this was so boilerplate, he had a hard time taking the matter seriously. In the back of his mind, there was a growing anxiety though. That was the one thing that was different. A nagging thought.
'Why is her voice so fucking sexy?'
The thought caught Satellite by surprise. Not just the content, but the swear. Satellite never swore! Swearing was more in the purview of unscrupulous heroes like Slayer and Grimdark.
"Ooh, what's that?" She said. "It looks like something is stirring. You know, that suit doesn't leave much to the imagination. I can see it twitching."
"What is it you want?" Satellite demanded. His voice cracked this time.
"It's more about what you, want." She said. "What do you want?"
The question surprised Satellite.
"Well...for you to let me go. And...uhh...turn yourself over to the police!...?"
She laughed again.
"I don't think that's what you really want. I know what you want."
The footsteps began again, but now they were coming closer.
"Let me show you what you want."
Satellite heard a snap, and then the room flooded with light. He squeezed his eyes closed in shock. The sudden burst of light overwhelmed him and made the pain in his head throb even more. He cracked his eyes open a few times to help them adjust, but the sharp, white light was too much.
"Oh my, that's quite bright, isn't it? That must be painful. Even with your eyes closed, I'm sure it's intense."
"Yeah. Yep." Satellite responded.
"Would you like me to turn the light down?"
Satellite sighed with exasperation.
"Yes? That'd be great."
