Captain Valor's Capture

Chapter 1

Included chastity, forced weight gain and coercion fictional story.


Captain Valor soared over the neon-lit skyline of Metropolis, his chiseled muscles rippling under his skintight blue suit as he punched through a gang of armored thugs. The city relied on him—its unbreakable guardian, lean and powerful at 6'2" and 200 pounds of pure heroism. But tonight, his arch-nemesis, Dr. Lush, had laid a trap. She wasn't like the others; no lasers or bombs, just curves and cunning.

He crashed into her hidden lair beneath the old warehouse district, the air thick with the scent of baked goods and something sweeter—perfume laced with aphrodisiacs. Dr. Lush waited, her voluptuous body poured into a latex dress that hugged her wide hips and full breasts. 'Welcome, hero,' she purred, her voice like honey. Before he could lunge, gas filled the room, sapping his strength. He woke strapped to a plush chair, wrists and ankles bound with soft cuffs.

'What is this?' Valor growled, straining against the restraints. His suit was gone, leaving him naked except for a gleaming metal cage locked around his cock. It was tight, unyielding, the kind that squeezed his shaft and balls just enough to remind him of his vulnerability. Dr. Lush circled him, trailing a manicured nail along his abs. 'This is your new reality, Captain. No more flying, no more fighting. Just indulgence.'

She wheeled over a cart laden with food: creamy cheesecakes, piles of fried chicken, bowls of pasta swimming in buttery sauce, and trays of donuts glazed thick. Valor's stomach rumbled despite himself—he hadn't eaten since dawn. 'You think fattening me up will stop me?' he spat.

Dr. Lush smiled, unlocking one wrist just long enough to guide his hand to a slice of pie. But she stopped him, instead pressing a spoonful of rich chocolate mousse to his lips. 'Open wide, darling. Eat, and I'll make you feel good.' Her free hand dipped between his legs, fingers wrapping around the chastity cage. She tugged gently, the metal rattling against his swelling cock, trapped and throbbing.

He resisted at first, lips clamped shut. But she squeezed the cage harder, the pressure sending jolts of frustrated need through him. His cock strained futilely against the bars, pre-cum leaking from the tip. 'Ah—stop!' he gasped, but his mouth parted. The mousse slid in, velvety and sweet, coating his tongue. He swallowed, and warmth spread through his belly.

'Good boy,' she cooed, feeding him another bite—this one from a warm cinnamon roll, sticky icing dripping down his chin. As he chewed, her fingers worked the cage, stroking the exposed base of his shaft, circling his balls with feather-light touches. Edge after edge built, his hips bucking involuntarily, but release stayed locked away. 'See? Food makes you hard. Hard makes you hungry.'

Days blurred into weeks in the dim lair. Dr. Lush's routine was relentless. Mornings started with breakfast buffets: stacks of pancakes drowned in syrup, bacon crisp and fatty, eggs scrambled with cheese. She'd sit on his lap, her ass grinding against his caged cock as she fed him, whispering encouragements. 'Bigger bites, hero. Let it fill you up.' Each swallow brought her hand to his groin, teasing the cage until he was rock-hard inside it, panting and desperate.

His body changed fast. The once-cut abs softened, a small paunch forming as calories piled on. Valor noticed it in the mirror she forced him to watch—his pecs rounding out, thighs thickening. But the edging kept him hooked; every meal ended with her edging him to the brink, his cock weeping against the metal, only to pull away. 'Not yet,' she'd say. 'Earn it by eating more.'

Nights were for feasts. She'd strip him further, oiling his growing belly as she presented platters of ribs slathered in sauce, mashed potatoes loaded with gravy, and pies bursting with fruit and cream. Strapped to the table now, he'd devour it all, her fingers slipping into the cage's slit to stroke his frenulum, building that agonizing pleasure. 'Feel how full you are? That's power, Captain. Real power.' His cock pulsed, denied, as he licked plates clean, the taste of salt and sugar mingling with his sweat.

By month two, he weighed 250 pounds. His arms, once veined and strong, jiggled slightly when he flexed. Dr. Lush unlocked the chair restraints partially, letting him waddle to the feeding station. She edged him standing, her hand pumping the cage while he shoveled in burgers and fries, grease slick on his fingers. 'Look at you, getting so soft. So needy.' He came close once, so close his vision blurred, but she stopped, laughing as he begged through a mouthful of cake.

The city suffered without him. News feeds in the lair showed chaos: riots in the streets, villains unchecked. Valor felt the pull to escape, but the food... the teasing... it eroded his will. Dr. Lush noticed. 'Why fight when you can feast?' She'd unlock the cage just enough to edge him bare—her palm sliding over his thick, veined cock, thumb rubbing the head until pre-cum slicked her skin—then snap it back on before he tipped over.

Month four: 300 pounds. His suit wouldn't fit anymore; he lounged in stretched robes, belly spilling over his waistband. Feeding sessions stretched hours. She'd straddle him, breasts heaving as she funneled shakes down his throat—thick, calorie-laden mixes of ice cream and peanut butter. Her pussy ground against the cage through her panties, wet heat taunting him. 'Drink it all, and maybe I'll let you taste me.' He gulped, cock straining painfully, edged by her rhythmic hips until he was a moaning mess.

He tried to run once, belly sloshing as he lumbered toward the door. But the weight slowed him; stairs were mountains. Dr. Lush caught him easily, rewarding his 'effort' with a double feeding: pasta carbonara followed by tiramisu, her mouth on his cock—sucking just the tip past the bars—edging him until tears streamed down his plump cheeks.

Six months in, at 400 pounds, Valor was a shadow of his former self. Rolls of fat layered his torso, thighs rubbing together, ass wide and cushioned. The city burned on screens—buildings aflame, screams echoing. He watched, fork paused midway to his mouth, a donut half-eaten. Dr. Lush knelt between his spread legs, the cage now custom-sized for his softened girth. She licked along the bars, tongue flicking his balls, then stroked his shaft through the gaps. 'The city needs a hero,' she murmured, 'but you need this more.'

He ate. Piles of pizza vanished, cheese stretching as he bit in, her hand working faster. Edge built to edge, his massive body quivering, cock throbbing in futile rage. Cum built but never spilled; denial fueled his appetite. 'More,' he whispered, unprompted, reaching for the next slice.

A year passed. 500 pounds. Valor couldn't stand without help. His lair bed sagged under him, surrounded by delivery crates of every indulgence: deep-fried everything, creamy pastas, endless desserts. Dr. Lush fed him constantly now, her body his only exercise—her grinding on his belly, edging his caged cock with vibrators pressed to the metal. The city fell into anarchy, undefended, its superhero lost to gluttony.

In his final moments of clarity, as she poured chocolate syrup over his heaving gut and licked it off while teasing his denied shaft, Valor realized the trap's genius. He was too fat, too full, too edged to ever leave. 'One more bite,' she said, and he obeyed, the city's distant sirens fading under his moans.