A/N: Wrote this for a kink meme, figured others might like it. Have fun. A/N


"Mmm. What time is it…"

The Monarch slowly blinked open his crusty, tired eyes and tried to focus them on his surroundings. He recognized the familiar pink walls fading into view. He was in the cocoon. Ok, this was good. And he was sitting on his throne, good…and there was Dr. Venture tied by his wrists to the ceiling, good…and for some reason the cocoon was bereft of henchmen, that wasn't good…wait, what was that last one?

The Monarch sat erect and stared at the center of the room. Indeed, suspended by just enough rope to let him touch the floor with his arms over his head was Dr. Rusty Venture, sporting an expression that mixed irritation and boredom. As The Monarch rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, Dr. Venture noticed him.

"Oh, hi sleeping ugly, glad you're finally awake. Honestly, could it take you any longer to sleep off a hangover? I can't feel my arms, here."

Confused, The Monarch sputtered, "What-hangover? Why the Hell are you in my cocoon? Tell The Monarch!" He shook a fist as he righted his crown with the other hand.

Rusty sighed. "I don't know. You're the genius that kidnapped me. All I know is you burst into the local FoodStuff's, sloshed as a sailor, held my boys up with a candy bar, managed to stuff me in a cart, and stole me from the check-out line while Brock tore into your stupid henchpeople! Very manly, kidnapping me in the middle of my grocery shopping, by the way."

The Monarch blinked disbelievingly. "What the Hell?" he burst, "Man, if I knew all it took to defeat you was getting plastered, I'd've loaded up my henchmen on booze years ago! Coulda saved lots of time, there."

Rusty huffed, "Yeah, well, boo hoo. It probably only worked because the alcohol made you slightly less predictable than usual. That and you were super emotional about…something or other, I dunno, I heard Dr. Girlfriend in there somewhere. Anyway, it's not like you're the one miles from home with numb, achy wrists. Can we get me out of this stupid rope?"

The Monarch paused. "Doctor..? Wait, how can they be aching and numb? That's like, impossible. You need feeling for pain, y'know?"

"Oh, whatever! You know what I mean," passed off Rusty in a huff, "Just let me go, will you? This kidnap was unauthorized. If you don't, I am so reporting you!"

Suddenly The Monarch was amused. "Pff! What, to the Guild? I haven't done anything wrong. It's not like I interrupted anything important; I interrupted your fucking grocery shopping! Besides, kidnapping is like, totally legit. It's a classic. I do it with your boys all the time and you don't seem to mind."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Yes, but they're replaceable. It's not like a super scientist can recreate himself, y'know..!"

The Monarch leaned back. "Man, you're cold..! They're your freaking sons..!"

"Again, whatever," shrugged Rusty as best he could, "Anywho, if you're not going to menace me with a giant butterfly laser or anything..?"

The Monarch heaved. "Ugh, fine!"

He stood from his throne and came forward. As he approached he seemed to recall something and gestured about, asking, "Say, you don't know where I sent the rest of my henchmen, do you? It feels so…weird. Quiet. Big."

"I dunno, I wasn't listening to your drunken rambling," groused Rusty, "You might've shouted something about raiding a brewery between all the 'forget Dr. Girlfriend's."

"All the henchmen?" echoed The Monarch. A hand went to his head and his eyes downward. "Man, I must've been depressed..! Things haven't been going so well for…"

Suddenly his attention seemed to snag as he stood in front of Dr. Venture and looked him over. He moved his hands into framing positions as he noted, "Gee, y'know, I've never been up close to you like this. Heh, tied all stretched like that, you kind of look like a girl. Just without the bazongas, you know. So slender…"

Dr. Venture's brow furrowed. "Hmp! Like you're one to talk, Sally Slimjim. You're more girlish than me. You have a pinched waist, for God's sake!"

The Monarch looked at himself, then caught himself at it and faltered, "Drr-no sassing The Mighty Monarch! Just for that, I'm not letting you go..! Ha! What do you say to that?"


"Your sarcasm isn't helping any." Suddenly distracted again, he pinched at Rusty's sides. "Seriously, though, you're so slim…have you ever gained weight?"

Rusty made a few initial noises of protest, but then decided The Monarch was just being the weird nemesis he was again and assumed a sulking position. That is, until with Monarch hands wrapped around his hips he heard, "…Can I fuck you?"

Rusty's eyes widened at that. He swung his legs in both attempts to get away and lash at The Monarch.

"What? God, no! Uck! Why would you even ask that?" Rusty then gasped. "I knew it! You're really just some creepy gay stalker after all, aren't you?"

The Monarch backed off a few paces, arms raised in defense. "Ngyah! What? No, it's not like that! I just…had a huge break-up with Dr. Girlfriend, ok? And then there's this whole cocoon-falling-apart-while-Phantom-Limb-ruins-my-life thing…look, I don't even know why I asked. I mean I guess…you are the only other person I've ever felt so…passionate about. And you just look so smooth…all tied up there…my vulnerable archenemy…"

Dr. Venture didn't look impressed. "Uhhh…huh."

The Monarch was still trailing himself into silence, however. "Lithe…so whispery…like the fairer…soft…extreme hatred…"

Dr. Venture still looked at him like he was a loony. The Monarch continued to eyeball his enemy's midriff.

"…so can I fuck you?"

Rusty scoffed. "No! Go molest one of your henchmen or something! Gah, ew!"

Now The Monarch's brow was furrowed. "Well, there's no need to be insulting about it…y'know what? Y'know? That does it. I don't even care if you say no. I'm gonna do you anyway. Yes, and it will be much more evil this way…the ultimate act of villainy..!"

Rusty glowered. "Come near me and I'll kick your freaking mothballs off."

"Rowr. Fiery as ever, Venture," countered The Monarch, "But nothing a little more rope won't prevent. And oh, look, there seems to be more in this…rope box over here. Man, when did we buy this much rope? There's miles of it..!"

He managed to extract a length of it and proceeded back over to Rusty. Rusty was starting to look nervous, but tried to stay bold. He held a leg up defensively, saying, "You are not raping me."

The Monarch shrugged and offered a smile. "It won't be rape. You'll like it, I promise..!"

He reached for Rusty who let out a wavering cry and leaned away harshly.

The Monarch's expression became a villainous smirk. "Fine, then, you want it to be rape? Let's have us some rape..!"

He came forward and grabbed the folds of Rusty's speedsuit. Rusty gasped and tried to force The Monarch away with one of his legs, but The Monarch only caught it under his other arm. Desperate, Rusty lifted his other leg, sending all his weight to his wrists, to kick The Monarch away. Surprised, The Monarch was forced to let go of Rusty's suit as he tried to block this attack, too.

Rusty managed to get in a couple of good kicks, but after a couple of swipes The Monarch grabbed hold of his second leg without dropping the first. Quickly, he turned around and tied Rusty's ankles together so that they encircled him. Then he turned back around with a scoff.

"Man you are weak!" he marveled, "That was like the lamest scuffle I have ever been in, if you can even call it a scuffle. I just rendered you helpless with nearly zero effort..! Sheesh, no wonder you need a bodyguard to nanny you 24/7."

Rusty only gritted his teeth under the strain his wrists were under. The Monarch noticed and moved to position Rusty's legs into a gripping pose so that he could support himself.

"Like this…no, see, you gotta clench your legs around my waist. Up…there we go." The above rope slackened ever-so slightly as The Monarch lifted Rusty, but Rusty didn't look any less comfortable. With his crotch now pressing tightly against his archenemy's lower abdomen, he couldn't really be blamed.

Still, even in this situation, he managed to retain his rapier attitude. "Ok, fine, so you got me tied up all nice and pretty. Good luck doing anything with both our clothes on." He was actually feeling some hope in this oversight. Perhaps this was even some perverted, evil joke. Maybe it was common for villains to randomly scare their nemeses this way.

The Monarch looked down as though he really had forgotten, but then Rusty's hopes died as he smirked, "Oh, don't you worry about that."

Rusty expected him to whip out some magic clothes-removal apparatus, but instead The Monarch just lifted one hand to daintily ensnare the pull on Rusty's speedsuit zipper. Down, down the pull then moved, all the way to the very bottom. The Monarch took interest in what he saw.

"Going commando, eh?" he quipped, "How considerate. And this crotchline's gotta be what, at least six inches too low? Super easy access, man. It's like you were planning on getting screwed..!"

Anything Rusty was going to bite back was replaced with a sharp, vocal intake of breath as The Monarch rushed forward and instantly began ravishing Rusty's chest. A forceful tongue glazed wetly over one sensitive nipple while a free hand toyed with the other. Playful teeth grazed pale, pliant skin. Cool air nipped over the trails that tongue left over unprotected ribs.

Against his will Rusty blushed. The sudden sensory overload his hungry archrival gave him left him no choice but to writhe in pleasure.

"G-ah-haah! Stop…stop..! Oh, wah…"

The Monarch sneered into the surface he currently suckled. He goaded, "Yeees, beg The Monarch..! Tell me how much you hate to have me violate you! Writhe in your agonized pleasure!"

Rusty managed under new assault, "Stop…stupid…speeches..!"

The Monarch pulled back, surprised at that. "Quite the indomitable mouth, you've got there, haven't you? Well, let's see how much sass you can bring with a mouth full of squirming hot butterfly meat!"

Rusty feared the worst, but The Monarch simply grabbed Rusty by the back of the head and kissed him. Granted, this was still not Rusty's first choice, but at least it wasn't as bad as it had sounded.

By 'butterfly meat', it seemed The Monarch had meant his tongue, which was pressing its way deep into a shocked and unprepared mouth. The Monarch's tongue sworled around Rusty's, the promise of squirming fulfilled as it actively invaded. Fillings were tasted when The Monarch decided to start sucking, trying to draw Rusty's tongue into his mouth as well. He licked away at Rusty's palate with eagerness.

Rusty tried without success to pull away, The Monarch's lips proving to be vacuum-like in suction, but then with them being suckled at so vigorously, Rusty remembered he had teeth and bit down on his invader as hard as he could.

"Mmm!" exclaimed The Monarch, but he didn't sound all that upset. As Rusty gladly let him out of his mouth, The Monarch simply said, thumbing away the trickle of blood the bite left, "Ow! That was quite a little love pinch, my dear Venture. No matter. If kitty wants to play with claws, then let it be known that this butterfly also has…claws…to be played with…that're sharp. Rar!"

The menacing of the pointed glove tips he pulled from a compartment on his armor and now wore was mostly nulled by The Monarch's faltering delivery, but Rusty looked up from trying to spit out The Monarch's flavor with some fear.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes!" countered The Monarch, "Remember those pesky clothes you were talking about? Well, let's just say I hope you have more than one of those little jumpsuit numbers. And really, having almost never seen you in anything else, that's not just a concern over me about to destroy this one."

Automatically defensive, Rusty countered, "My speedsuit wardrobe is very much complete, thank you! And I don't need fashion advice from a freaky-deaky nutjob in orange butterfly wings, who thinks that monarchs have claws!"

"Dyer-bup-shut it! You're supposed to be cowering in fear," groused The Monarch, "That or…continuing to writhe in pleasure, your choice."

"News flash, Einstein," Rusty spat sarcastically, "Being touched by you isn't pleasure for me! Gross, maybe, vile, certainly, but…"

"Silence!" The Monarch cut him off, "I will make you scream The Monarch's name in ecstasy as you beg me to let you climax! What you have tasted thus far is but a mere appetizer compared to the bountiful feast of things I've only dreamt of doing to you! And look at how you've taken that!"

Rusty couldn't deny the heated flush that persisted even through all of his snarking. He chose to pretend it didn't exist as he attacked a different matter, though. "Woah, wait, you've dreamt about this? So it's not just cuz of getting dumped or whatever…you sick fuck!"

"Guilty..!" said The Monarch in sing-song, "But don't change the subject. Now, where was I? Oh yes, giving you a little custom tailoring…"

He bent in close, arms hooking around Rusty's back. His piercing gloved fingertips cut through the cloth and as they were dragged sharply, slicing the suit to ribbons and leaving shallow streaks of red across Rusty's flesh.

"Ah-hhh!" Rusty called out, the raw sensation causing him to arch his back. The Monarch continued to drag his claws over Rusty's back and up over his shoulders, splitting the speedsuit's sleeves and causing the garment to fall around Rusty's bare waist. His own waist loved the way Rusty's bound legs constricted around it. But now The Monarch was eyeing a lower prize, predatory smirk returning.

Rusty's member couldn't help but twitch at the sudden focus of attention. Rusty then did his best to prevent further flushing of his cheeks and to twist his hips away from The Monarch's extending fingers, a futile effort considering their tied proximity.

"Mmm-mmm!" Rusty's face screwed up as he was cupped lengthwise below. He fought the feeling, or rather tried to, as The Monarch dragged his palm and fingers along the underside of Rusty gently in a caressing massage.

Rusty crushed shut his eyes and mouth and turned his head to the side, denying any further sound to escape him. He couldn't help where the blood in his body went, however, and most of it was going south despite his protest. He bucked in silence, fighting it, fighting it..!

Then The Monarch moved to curl his fingers around all of Rusty. They began a more traditional pump, wrapping Rusty in warmth. His hips moved to create friction for himself as well. It wasn't long before he began to harden, loving the torment he was putting his enemy through.

Rusty's eyes bulged open. His breathing became harsh through his nose. Try as he might to deny his pleasure, he was engorging. A little too fast in fact. He couldn't hold it in. He was..!

"Gyaaaahh!" He came suddenly, unexpected by his captor. Rusty's juices splashed across the black of The Monarch's tight outfit in a sharp contrast.

The Monarch flinched when it happened, calling out as he pulled back in surprise. But he quickly recovered as his surprise made way for mirth. Giving a brief chuckle, he said to Rusty, "You came already? Wow. What's the matter, Rusty? How long must it have been since you were touched like this? Quite a while, I'm guessing."

Rusty's face was turned away in shame. He didn't answer both because of this and because what The Monarch said was true. He didn't want to admit it…he couldn't…but to feel this form of intimacy for which he was so starved…damn it, it felt good!

The Monarch's face seemed to convey that he could read Rusty's thoughts. His gloating smile never wavered as his eyes flitted downward to see that in fact, Rusty was still mostly hard in his hand. That was the worst part. Despite the situation, despite who it was…Rusty wanted more.

"So, Dr. Venture," smiled The Monarch, "Ready for round two, then?"

Darkly, Rusty said, still refusing to turn his head, "Shut up. Just do it."

The Monarch's expression turned condescending. "Oh, now, that's no way to ask. Where are your manners?"

Rusty's eyes turned, but his head didn't. The glower he gave could have killed. If only.

The hand The Monarch still had on Rusty constricted slightly, taunting. "Go on," he goaded, "Say you want my…sexxx."

Rusty's lip curled with disgust. "Seriously? You're going George Michael with this…"

The Monarch shrugged. "What? It's a kick-ass song. I thought it sounded appropriate."

Rusty heaved a great sigh. "Fine." He faced the Monarch and dully recited, "What's your definition of dirty, baby? What do you consider pornography? Don't you know I love it 'till it hurts me, baby? Don't you think it's time you had sex with me? Now fucking make me feel good already because this is humiliating enough as it is!"

"Pff! I, uh, don't think that last one's a lyric…" The Monarch noted Rusty's hate-filled expression and waved it off with, "Alright, alright, I get it. Believe me, you have no idea how much I actually want to do this."

"I think I have an inkling," Rusty said warily as he felt The Monarch pressing against him below. That creepy, hungry smile wasn't helping, either.

"Well then, without further ado," The Monarch took both hands and slit Rusty's speedsuit to the knees on either side of him. Then he split what remained of the crotch with a single finger. It fell away in halves, leaving Rusty quite exposed. Rusty regretfully felt his breath quicken in anticipation.

The Monarch moved in close and hugged Rusty then, his arms running possessive circles over the captive back as he ground himself between his rival's cheeks below, working himself to proper hardness. The Monarch's nose led his lips in returning to the grazing ministrations of earlier, gracing over Rusty's chest. This trail went further and further upwards, over the neck and past the jaw where teeth paused briefly to tug playfully at the beard, until The Monarch was again kissing Rusty. This time Rusty didn't bite him, but he did have to try his best to forget just who was ravishing him so well to make him moan that way.

Rusty could feel a prominent hardness against him now, most definitely larger than his own. The Monarch's claws were digging excitedly into him and it was clearly time for the next step. Rusty's breath was heavy and heated as The Monarch pulled away. His nemesis' left hand went south and without ceremony the pointed fingertips tore out the large section of thin cloth that housed The Monarch's manhood, followed by them pulling his leopard print underwear down and out of the way.

Next The Monarch brought the same hand to his mouth and ripped the cloth covering his hand off with his teeth. He spat the rent fabric out to the side and immediately replaced it with his own fingers. Looking lustfully at Rusty, he coated these fingers with a thick, glistening layer of saliva, meanwhile his right hand ventured to keep Rusty's nethers alert.

As soon as he deemed his fingers sodden enough, The Monarch wasted no time in snaking his arm around Rusty's waist and sending his index forward to play around the awaiting muscle. Rusty's head fell back at the contact, a breathy gasp escaping him. He continued to expel muted exclamations with no meaning while the finger circled and dipped into him, pressing slightly further each time. It wasn't long before The Monarch was working one finger in and out of Rusty easily, and deciding it was time for another.

The second finger hurt somewhat as it went in. Rusty called out and clamped his legs tightly around The Monarch at its insertion. He required longer adjusting to this one, breathing labored as The Monarch enjoyed watching his every reaction. A curl here, a twist there; each motion caused Rusty to contort in a new fashion. His wrists were rubbed raw in their bindings with how much he was wriggling.

Then, oh then, The Monarch opted to put in a third finger. In it burrowed, the tightest fit yet, stretching Rusty to where he felt he might tear. He didn't though, and when he finally adjusted to this size as well found the motion inside him surprisingly pleasurable. All the while the pumping in front continued and completed the invigorating sensation.

The Monarch reveled in watching Rusty's expressions, and in fact probably played a little too long at this, as Rusty burst eventually, "Ahh! Cut it out already, you've made your point! I'm turned on! Oh, God, I can't believe I'm enjoying this…why?"

An evil laugh met him as a response. The Monarch pulled his fingers out and placed his hand instead on the small of Rusty's back, letting his hips come forth and replace said fingers with his member's head. He rubbed at the slick entryway, hissing, "Feel me, Rusty Venture. Feel your desperation rage! So long have you been neglected that you let yourself be pleasured by your own worst enemy! You're pathetic! Now, call out The Monarch's name! Let the world hear who has conquered and shamed you!"

He shoved in forcefully, all at once.

"Uh-maaa-aa-aaaAAAA!" That was all Rusty could manage to retort, followed by several throaty gasps as he constricted repeatedly around this much different, foreign object inside of him.

"Eh, close enough," flatlined The Monarch, "Prepare to be…oh man, you are tight! Uh! That feels amazing..!"

His eyes threatened to roll back into his head as he bit his lip through shocks of euphoria. "Oh…oh boy. I never knew an ass could be this tiny! Jeez, Venture…"

Eagerly, The Monarch gave a couple of mini-thrusts, prompting Rusty to constrict even more. Both of them groaned with a swelling passion. The Monarch's hands both slid from their positions to clamp themselves to Rusty's posterior. With this as better support, The Monarch continued to thrust with more and more force, until he could actually move inside Rusty without hitching.

Rusty missed the hand working his member, but with the new friction inside he really didn't need it to stay hard. The clenched grip on his butt wasn't terrible, either.

No more words of insult or otherwise could be passed between the two at this point. Their brains were ensconced in a haze of grinding, unintelligible vocal stimulation.

Rusty was bounced with zeal upon The Monarch's manhood. In and out, in and out, up and down, up and down. Every motion, backward and forward, generated passionately hate-filled bliss. Delectation buzzed from the impossibly growing fire created by the traction of The Monarch's energetic movements.

The air filled with moans and bursts of lusty garble. Soon The Monarch was penetrating Rusty smoothly enough to pull out all the way before driving back in to the hilt. He did this desirously, slamming forward in a way that sent jolt after jolt of dizzying sensation coursing through Rusty. As for Rusty, he couldn't do much to express himself but grab at the rope suspending him from the ceiling and pull The Monarch to him with his knees.

Mere moments more passed at this pace before their shared climb to pure felicity reached its peak. The Monarch sensed the onset of his climax and took to thrusting more slowly, but with purpose. He took one hand from Rusty's rear and returned it to its previous ministrations on Rusty's member. He wanted them to finish in unison.

Rusty arced at the sudden reinstatement of The Monarch's hand on him below, and it certainly did hasten his arrival at climax. Likewise the pleasurable constricting of Rusty made The Monarch's climax arrive only seconds later. Hurriedly, he thrust himself as far as he absolutely could into Rusty before he burst. That same final thrust hit some wonderful spot deep inside Rusty and made him come in the same instant.

Mixed cries of one final shared thro of euphoria rang through the cocoon. Following the outburst were a few moments of heavy panting while The Monarch pulled out and the reality of what had transpired was given a chance to sink in.

As he wound down, The Monarch looked to Rusty. With a surprising tenderness he said, "Y'know, I think I might actually hate you a bit less right now. Cuddles?"

He came in close again and wrapped his arms lovingly around his captive, nestling his cheek against Rusty's.

Rusty wrinkled his nose. "Ewww…"

The Monarch's face became deadpan and he stepped back. "Oh fine, I see. You can get into the fucking, but at the first sign of sentiment it's just toooo much…"

"What are you talking about? You're still my archenemy," Rusty countered sourly, "This doesn't mean I want to pick out floral arrangements. You used sex against me!"

He seemed to be pouting, embarrassment becoming the major emotion he was drawing from this experience.

"Meh, whatever," passed off The Monarch, "I'd say I pretty much won for today. So, like, can I offer you a ride home or…somethin'? Just let me go change into different butterfly spandex…"

The Monarch-Mobile hovered to a stop outside the gates of the Venture Compound. Rusty was dumped out of it sporting only his shoes and a blanket graciously loaned him by The Monarch. He landed with an "Oof!" just as Hank, Dean and Brock were arriving at a trot to the gate also.

"Pop!" Dean called, "We were just on our way to rescue you!"

"Oh really," came the bitter response as Rusty stood, "And you couldn't have been any quicker about it."

It was Hank's turn for input; he explained, "Well, it took a while for Brock to get through all those bad guys, and then Dean said we should regroup at the compound and grab some ammo, or at least drop off the groceries…"

"Never mind, boys," Rusty cut him off, "Never mind. Your fault, I get it."

"Well, jeez, Doc, what the Hell happened?" Brock asked, "Why's The Monarch givin' you back? Where's your clothes?"

"Again, never mind," said Rusty pointedly.

The Monarch snapped his fingers. "Oh, hey, yeah. I'm gonna need that blanket back like, ASAP, ok? It's the one from my bed. Kinda the only blanket. Not much budget for bedclothes lately…"

Rusty blanched. "This came from your bed?"

There was a beat. "Screw modesty."

Rusty threw off the blanket in disgust and marched for the house in a huff, leaving his stunned and confused family behind.

The Monarch jumped out of his car in dismay as the blanket hit the dirt. "Ahh, not on the ground! Ohhh, it landed in something wet…that's gonna stain."

He raised a fist of vengeance for his fallen bedding. "Curse you, Dr. Ventuuuure..!"