Iron Fist vs Evil Ryu
It definitely wasn't the normal Ryu. His eyes were glowing red for one thing. So the heroes had taken to calling him 'Evil Ryu’. Maybe a little dramatic, but it got the point across, right?
It also seemed pretty accurate. Iron Fist frowned as he looked the guy over, noting the dozens of heroes groaning and red-assed at his feet.
Cable. Punisher. Ant Man. Falcon. The list went on. But Iron Fist noticed something else. In addition to the Marvel superheroes, a number of notable Capcom fighters were downed as well. Mike Haggar. Frank West. Breath of Fire's Rand. All were moaning and stripped bare, their upturned butt cheeks blazing red from what could've only been a thorough spanking. But why had Ryu turned on his friends? They were all on the same side, weren't they?
"Luke," he told his partner. "Do you remember how, when you were under control of the Handler, I drew upon the power of K'un-Lun to free your soul and release you?"
"No, I don't," said Luke Cage. "Because it didn't work, remember?"
"Oh. Right," said Iron Fist. His hands drifted close to his buttocks, remembering the price he'd paid for failure that day. "Well... I think I need to try it again anyway."
"Are you out of your dang mind?"
"Probably. Run cover for me?"
Luke Cage rolled his eyes as his best friend darted off to circle around their foe without waiting for an answer. "I must be outta my mind too."
So he ran at Evil Ryu full-on. No one could call him a coward. But the first thing Ryu did was an overpowered Shinku Hadoken, and it was just about the biggest fireball he'd ever seen. Luke raised his fists to block, but his clothes couldn't take the assault. His shirt was incinerated right off him, followed shortly by his jeans. And either Luke hadn't worn any underwear that day or they lasted mere nanoseconds, because next thing Iron Fist knew he was staring right at his best friend's dimpled bare butt.
A Shinku Tatsumaki Senpukyaku hit next—a series of intense high-speed spin kicks—strong enough to slam even Luke around and knock him senseless. The guy groaned as he was picked up, then summarily set over Evil Ryu's knee without having put up barely any fight at all. "Oh, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me," he growled as his ass was raised, spread—and soon came under sizzling assault in the form of blisteringly hard spanks. "Oww! Any time now, Danny!! Any—AUGH!"
"Weaklings must be punished," the red-eyed Street Fighter said.
"Just a little longer, Luke!" Iron Fist said, focusing his chi. He performed sutras as his best friend bellowed, wailed, and squirmed. Luckily, Luke Cage was tough enough to take a spanking from even the most hardest-hitting fighters. Wasn't he?
Maybe not. As he made his fifth repetition, he looked and saw his best friend actually sobbing out like a baby. Luke Cage, the big man himself, had tears and snot running down his face. Evil Ryu punished not just with raw power, but with a fiendish will driving his blows. It made an impact even through Luke’s bullet-proof skin. It was like a demon inhabited him.
If so, Iron Fist would drive it out. He had some familiarity on that front, and knew that the longer it fed on Ryu’s ki the stronger it’d become.
Evil Ryu stood, letting Luke fall to the ground with a broken wail, clutching his battered ass. Just one more of the defeated. Iron Fist faced Evil Ryu, filled to the brim with spiritual energy. It was a showdown only one of them was walking away from.
"I was like you once," Evil Ryu told him. "Wishing to purify everything. But now I know the truth. The world is not pure. The world is corruption and hot, blistering pain. By punishing the heroes of this joined realm, I only lift the scales from their eyes."
"Yeah, you're all heart," Iron Fist muttered.
It was the moment. Iron Fist assumed a lotus stance, intent on driving whatever was controlling Ryu out. But Evil Ryu took up his own position. Both feet planted firmly, before he raised one and shifted—sliding on the other with unbelievable speed.
I know this move! It's an assassination technique, like Zhou Cheng uses!
In truth it was the Shun Goku Satsu, a signature move of the Satsui no Hadou. And just as deadly. Iron Fist could barely move before Evil Ryu was on him. No, not on him—moving past him. To strike at his undefended rear.
Should've known!
In the span of a single heartbeat a dozen blows landed on his ass, each one soaked full of evil intent the likes of which Iron Fist had never felt before. Each one blistered the full spectrum of his buttocks, shattered the spandex covering them, leaving them bouncing red... naked... beaten... defeated. Iron Fist had never felt so much sheer dominance overwhelm him. He screamed—right as he saw the solution.
This energy—it's not just a punishment, it's a conduit!
It was the most difficult mystical working he'd ever attempted. Not only to feed himself back along it, but to fully feel each and every swat and smack as he did. He couldn't block any of the pain out, not even a fraction. If he did it wouldn't work.
Which meant that, as Iron Fist poured every last ounce of his energy back through Ryu's palms—into his soul, into his heart—he himself fell to the floor with the reddest, most swollen ass he'd ever had.
Several moments passed as Iron Fist sobbed on the ground, his ass burning like twin suns. A short distance away, Luke Cage was in nearly as much pain. The Heroes For Hire had been well and truly wrecked.
Then, surprisingly gentle hands settled on his blistered bottom.
"I am so sorry," Ryu whispered, "I wasn’t myself."
The story came out as they slowly recovered. Almost two weeks ago Ryu had been kidnapped, along with several other heroes and street fighters. Something had been done to him—perhaps to them all—which had unleashed the evil locked within. In his case it took the form of the Satsui no Hadou. He'd run amuck, blistering every heroic backside he could get his hands on. Iron Fist and Luke Cage listened silently to the tale, carefully fondling their own beaten buttocks as the other heroes around slowly came back to their senses.
Ryu clenched his fists. "M. Bison, Doctor Doom... they worked together. M. Bison with his psycho power, Doom with his brainwashing and sorcery... together they turned me into that. I couldn’t help myself."
"Hey man, those are two Grade-A bad guys. Don't beat yourself up over it. I'm sure you did all you could," Luke Cage said.
“Yeah, and you’re not exactly the first hero to get mind-controlled,” Iron Fist put in.
The Street Fighter pursed his lips. "Perhaps," he said. "But still."
Slowly, he undid the drawstrings of his white gi pants. A gentle rustle of cloth and it gathered down at his ankles. He turned to reveal a full, muscular set of buttocks. The kind most any man would salivate over, even those who were chiefly heterosexual. The cheeks were simply that firm, that well-rounded. That… slappable.
"Please punish me," he told them, "I must be disciplined for my sins. Only once that's done can I begin undoing the damage I've caused."
Iron Fist and Luke Cage exchanged a look.
"...I think we can handle that," said Luke slowly, cracking his knuckles.
Iron Fist grinned and dug into what was left of his ripped pants. He took out a quarter. "Flip you for first swat?" he asked his buddy.
"Oh, you're on."
And Ryu sighed, knowing his ass was finally in better hands and that his redemption could begin.