Discord for feedback: dommedhunk#0971
Part 1:
"Drake pulled out with a 'pop' from the Elderdemon. The hulking red demon, much larger than Drake, thudded to the floor beneath him, a small ''Unnggh'' escaping his lips. The room smelled of sex, sweat, exertion; likely to soak the walls for centuries. Primal screams of ecstasy had just echoed off the stone of the Elderdemon's chambers.
The heaving mass of muscle lay in a heap before a proudly standing, tall 9 ft sigil covered demon. Half-demon? Truth was, even he didn’t know. Huge as he was, he was gorgeous to behold, though terrifying at the same time. His huge frame held hanging muscular arms, built into wide framed shoulders. His jutting rounded shoulders swept into broad pecs, hanging over his mounded, ridged abdominals chiseled deep into his flat stomach. Jutting high and up, his thick cock stood still hard, still pulsating with power and vigor, in steep contrast to the tired and limp mass before him.
"Thought you could match me at full strength? Big mistake. I could go on and on, but it seems as if you're no fun anymore. I need a plaything that can respond," derided Drake, as he took a flag off the wall, emblem of the Elderdemon, and wiped his cock before tossing it in the face of the powerful behemoth. "A gift." As Drake was leaving he saw an open door. In fact, the stone around the large wooden door looked like it had been cracked during major seismic activity, making the door open. Most likely from Drake's force fucking the Elderdemon into oblivion. He peered inside to see if there was anything of interest:
hero's armor, helmets, swords, vials, souls in containers, so on and so fourth; the usual demon obtained fair, except... "What is that?" Drake whispered to himself. It looked like a crystalline open hand, with crystal pearlescent fingers arching forward as if in a game of mercy with another invisible opponent, sitting atop a small pillar. Drake saw the multichromatic colors swirl, calling to him. The colors reflecting in his widening eyes. "Nice!" He declared as he grabbed it, and some armor, then left.
Back within his cavern, Drake was about to make a sensational discovery about his newly acquired toy. He looked at himself in the mirror, his armor was oddly cut, but showed off his rounded shoulders. It felt tight to on him, and his defined body was still clearly evident. "Baaah" he grunted, ripping the armor off. He liked the way he looked in his wraps and tattoos. He grinned at his image, looking back at him with wildly spiked hair and a grin from pointy ear to pointy ear was the demon elf who had just fucked an Elderdemon without mercy. The pride of the event was already fading, and Drake new he would need a new conquest soon to slake his thirst.
A slight shine made Drake blink, catching the corner of his eye. He turned toward the weird clawlike crystal he had picked up from the Elderdemon's palace. "Oh yeah!" he muttered, with childlike forgetfulness one might expect from his Elven side. He picked it up, examining it. "Hmmmm," murmuring as he turned it in the torch light of his cave. He traced the cool stone with his fingers, the outside lifted to smooth ridges, the crystal veinlike in other areas...the artifact did seem handlike, like it was grasping another hand. Drake put his fingers against the palm of the crystal and slowly slid in his hand, until his fingers slowly spread around the smooth rock fingers, he grasped it.
"HUH?!" Drake's mind suddenly saw a scene, surrounded by a purplish galactic cloud, blending the edges of a town of small people, all childishly cartoony and blue. His mind wanted to find the alpha male of the group. The scene zoomed in on many of the blue figures, but not a one did Drake find fuckable. He didn't care to see it any more, as it nearly disgusted him, and the scene was gone. In its place there was another scene, the edges still blurred by the purplish cloud, but the inside...who was that on the inside?
The scene was of a human male, the kind Drake had seen on the outerworld, but this wasn't his outerworld, or even his underworld. This world was... different. The male was being filmed as he pushed weights up and down, his chest bulging into large mounds. Drake growled lustily as the male looked down proudly at his thick chest and the work he was doing. It was clear to Drake that he could see him, but the muscled human couldn't see him. His short cropped hair and perfectly proportioned body started to rev up Drake's libido.
In a distant voice he could hear "Alright Ryan, that's all we need." "Ok, gonna finish a few more sets and I'll be done."
Ryan, eh? Drake licked his lips as the model waited for the other man to leave, before getting up and looking at himself in the mirror, flushed with pride about his almost perfect physique. Well, Drake was flushed too, but in a different way. Too bad he couldn't be there to show good 'ol Ryan what he had in mind...
The clouded edges of the scene started to drift away as Drake suddenly found himself in the same room as Ryan, who consequently was too busy staring at his bulging bicep as he bent and unbent his elbow. Drake snarled.
A few hours later...
Ryan had made a delicious snack in Drake's appetite for hot guys in need of domination. Drake could tell immediately that Ryan was no challenge physically, and could hardly take the tip of Drake's enormous cock. Luckily his cries for help, pain and eventually lustful worship of Drake were enough to get Drake off, but it was only an appetizer. When Drake found himself bored and wanting for home, he was. In a blink he was back in his cave, surrounded by the comforts of home (which was mostly dirt and torches). Drake looked at the crystal, which was sitting back on his wall where it had been before he had met Ryan.
Had he met Ryan? The scent of sex still surrounding him said yes. Drake grabbed the crystal again, willing himself to see Ryan once again, and lo and behold, laying on his back, breathing heavy in the middle of a weight room, with drained cock askew, was the beautiful Ryan. Damn he was pretty, too bad about that endurance. Drake was about let the crystal go, when he saw the cameraman come back in, "Hey, Ryan where --" he was cut short by the sight of Ryan on the ground. The cameraman, who wasn't carrying anything now, rubbed his hands together, as if a hot dinner was being served up right to him. Drake grinned.
Drake let the cameraman have his fun, as he still needed to figure out his new toy. He decided to change again, this time to a scene of oddly masculine catlike men, all dressed in weird armor, and one with a growing sword...
Next was a fighter, handsome, with funky blonde hair that hung in front, but wearing only a yellow vest over his tight muscled body. Drake swore he could hear "KO" after he finished fucking the stud. Odd world indeed.
Drake continued to find conquest after conquest, all muscular and handsome, if in different ways. One, a solid built marine type, with white gray hair, had decent endurance, able to last a few rounds of sexual grunt work with Drake. Another was smaller than Drake's usual fair, but so heroic, and what a great sword, not to mention his ears were like Drake's too. Drake couldn't help but blast that annoying as hell fairy though, "Listen to this, bitch!" SKRRROOM!
The hero really didn't seem to mind. Drake didn't know he could do that, but as he traveled he found his powers growing, maybe from exposure to all the different dimensions he entered, or self discovery.
Drake even began collecting things: gauntlets, wands, amulets, a black sticky blob in a jar, trying to break out he had picked off from a spider like stud, and a shield with a star he got from a whole group of hunks , each hotter than the other (they were all secretly lusting after one another anyways). That dimension was a goldmine, he'd be back soon.
Yet Drake still hadn't found what he was seeking. At least for the interim, he was a fickle fuck.
*********
Drake kept looking. The last 3 dimensions had been complete let downs. Just plants, and not the entangling kind he might have fun with. Then, another new world. It had a big building, with a huge giant and globe on it, but clearly a statue of some kind. Another human based world wouldn't do much for him, unless there was some kind of super-powered FWWWWWWOOOOOOOSH - Drake's eyes perked and his brows peaked. What the hell was that? A bird? A plane? No, a meteor. Oh, well another doomsday scene to witness wouldn't be so boring to watch. It was a huge meteor, even with his strength he'd have some trouble stopping --
BAAAAAAM. The meteor suddenly slowed, then stopped. What the hell was that??? He asked himself again. This time, the image zoomed in on a figure, closer, and closer, there was too much fire and smoke in the way, but Drake could make out something or someone. The meteor suddenly changed trajectory and WHOOOOOOSHH it was gone, out back to space from which it came. Drake was watching it fly off when he heard distant cheering, focusing back on the figure who threw it.
"HOLY FUCK!" Drake exclaimed as the figure came into focus. A crowd of people looking up and cheering a blue clad, red caped wet dream. Drake immediately began to harden. The figure landed on a ledge of a building above the crowd. "Yes, higher ground. Oh you are special, aren't you?" Drake licked his lips as he watched.
In the bright light of the sun, his blue muscled body was the embodiment of streamlined abundant musculature. Gorgeous blue eyes, and regal jawline connected to a muscle corded neck, tall traps and wide shoulders. His heavily muscled arms hung loosely from his shoulders, connecting to thick jutting pecs and wide lats, framing his perfectly developed serratus muscles. The large wings of muscle veered down a path of a deeply embedded steel eight pack, tightly flattened, but sculpted as marble, going further down past a yellow belt, looped to his red trunks, where a fully filled red trunk hung heavily framed by muscled quads. His rounded shoulders protruded outside his cape covered back, adding even more width to his impressive stature and emphasizing how narrow and shredded his waist was under tight blue fabric.
As Drake’s eyes followed the curves of the powerful thighs, he mentally demanded a side view at will and his crystal obliged. The studs' jutting pecs and ripped flattened abdominal wall, paired magnificently with the small of his muscled back, highlighting the taut nature of his waist. The curve of his wide back fell into a deep valley, but curved again into the most perfect bubble Drake had ever lusted after. Round, firm, bubbled. Every breath made the hero’s abdominals ripple, his muscled chest rising and falling, drawing attention to the iconic superhero symbol "S". The slight wave of the hero's hand sent muscles rippling through his body and then a gorgeous flash of his pearly whites before flying off.
Drake was tempted to jump in and begin to demolish the hero, then relish in his fucking. He wanted to squeeze that chest and back together and make him scream, then force him on his dick and have him begging for more. "RUUURRRR,"Drake snarled, but he held back, grabbing onto the stone carved arm of his chair, exercising some restraint. He sat back, he had waited this long... he could wait a little longer.
**********
Part 2:
Superman rocketed through the air, giving pause for a second to listen to his city below. He looked over at the giant L jutting on top of the tallest building with disdain. However his city was much safer now, every skirmish or incident seemed easily handled by the law service, except for an unsuspecting meteor, he found his works aimed more towards charity. He had even been given a key to the city, where he could feel people leer at him in his costume, being grounded for so long, but it did not bother him much.
Nothing crazy today, he thought, until he heard it, "SUPERMAN! MEET ME!" It was loud and booming, seeming to come from multiple wavelengths and frequencies. It traveled through Superman's body, it was unsettling. So many pulses made it easy to triangulate of course, the voice had originated from a warehouse near the wharf...Superman rolled his eyes, tired of this gimmick. "Gimme a break," he groaned as he flew toward the building. How many guys did he have to beat in a warehouse until they learned their lesson?
Superman landed, flying through a broken window, as his hearing suddenly changed. He stopped. He could barely hear the noise of his city, but his hearing was working fine, he could hear everything in the warehouse, even a heartbeat besides his own. "It blocks loud noises, it'll keep you close." Superman turned to see a giant figure standing on the other end of the warehouse, putting down an orb next to some other strange trinkets. He wasn't normal warehouse fair. Covered in tattoos and with a wild mane of hair, the shirtless and incredibly muscular figure was only covered by his legs to his lower waist, in wrappings.
Superman landed slowly, his body wide and fists tight. He had to make sure this... being, didn't take him lightly.As Superman hardened his stance, Drake grunted and licked his lips. "Damn, you look more fuckable in person." in person? Superman didn't know how to take that, he was being watched and-- wait, what, did he say fuckable?!
Drake leapt toward the man of steel, his right arm tensing mid-air, as he reared it back and threw a punch directly at Superman's perfect face. BAAAAM! The warehouse shook with the sound as the dust settled, Superman was standing there, fingers wrapped around the fist of Drake, "Not so fast tough guy," Drake had been watching Superman, and had done something he rarely would, plan. He was usually impulsive, though jumping into a dimension after observing what could be the most powerful prey he had ever hunted might still be considered impulsive.
Superman was top choice fuck meat, and he wanted to make sure things went right, but he could only wait so long. Drake had seen Superman use this technique on multiple enemies in just the few days he had watched the hero, and was why he had pulled his punch. Usually the robbers would give up immediately and Supe’s would let his guard down to take them to the police, so confident and self assured as he flew off from the cops.
“OW OW OW” Drake feigned as Superman put that look on his face, his hand already relaxing when, "Nah, just kidding!" roared Drake as a sudden burst of power sent Drake's fist propelling forward, his fist still wrapped in Superman's hand, embarrassingly slamming Superman’s own hand against Supes' face as the hero went flying backward into the warehouse wall BAAAAAAAAAAAAAM.
“Hey man, you gotta be a better fighter, stop hitting yourself,” mocked Drake.
Superman bounced off the warehouse wall and landed on one knee. He looked back at the wall, he should have gone through it, sailing through, but he had bounced off. Other than that though, he wasn’t fazed. Drake could tell the hero might have gone sailing, but not a thing was different about every perfect feature...fuck, even the hair.
Drake paused as he observed Superman's confusion, "It's magic. Can't have you flying all over the place!" Drake wasn't skilled in demonic or elven magic at all, but the few tricks and trinkets he had picked up going dimension to dimension he was going to employ on his prey. Truth was, as he looked over at the wand, thumb sized crystal ball and hyper megaphone, he didn’t really know how they worked. The wand was great though, that Bottom stud sure lived up to his name, fucked like he grew up fat.
Superman shook his head, his perfect pretty face without a scratch, much to Drake's approval. "So you know of my weakness to magic?" questioned Superman, wondering why he would be studied like this. It just dawned on him, he was giving away intel, he couldn’t be so relaxed.
No, thought Drake, but I do now! Drake didn't have much he could do, except... he could pull and completely subjugate demons with even the slightest physical attraction to him, he could try it on this hero. It was a magic that had allowed him to break the wills of demons much stronger than him, like his recent Elderdemon prey. Drake searched out the attraction, but the hero's stoicism was like a steel fortress, his will strong and Drake's probes immediately bounced back, it was tighter than the Captain and thunder dick had been together!
Drake growled, "You don’t think Daddy Drake would hurt you do you?” He sneered and then rushed the hero. Superman stood up fast and flew into Drake, as Drake stood there, massive hulking body of pure power. He had held Demon Kings down with one hand, and forced an Elderdemon on his knees. He was a mountain of power. But Superman was Superman. Superman flew into Drake and they crashed into the opposite wall, BOOOOM, Drake's back slamming, it hurt, real bad. Drake immediately felt like he might be in over his head, but he couldn’t let himself down, the idea of corrupting this perfection and ruining him completely sent a new shockwave of power through him, as Drake brought up his huge fists and slammed them hard into Superman’s back, a loud and desperate moan escaping Drake’s lips as they bounced off uselessly.
Superman stood up, looking Drake straight in the eye, “Did you feel something?,” making sure to demonstrate to the magic user his physical dominance. Grinning the hero slammed the monster in the pec, then tossed him to the middle of the warehouse. Drake noticed the slightest, almost imperceptible bump as the hero had hit his pec, but nothing he could do now as he flew to the warehouse floor.
Drake growled, rolling into a three point stance as his eyes darted around the hero’s body, looking for a point of weakness. Aha! Drake could see how paper thin the serratus of the ripped hero was, truly a mark of chiseled beauty, but if the hero was weak to magic, maybe he could do something by targeting those ripped sides. Drake willed his hands to fill with what little magical energy he could control, the sigils on his body turned a deep red briefly and his eyes had a magic undertone.
All of this did not go unnoticed by the hero, whose superspeed included the ability to process information rapidly as well. “Listen pal, I really don’t want to hurt you, but you are going to leave me no choice at this rate.” Superman couldn’t help but have an aversion to magic, and knew that he would have to meet the power he saw swelling in “Drake” in kind. “Drake, I am warning you!” He said, his own eyes glowing red, his heat vision a build up of unused solar energy and direct expression, ever since coming of age, of his passion for fairness and justice, he had to match the demon.
Superman’s heat vision burst forth, completely covering the demon, as Superman feared he’d gone too strong too quick, perhaps his emotions had taken him over, though truth be told Drake was a demon, and --
Drake saw the hunk’s eyes turn red. Oh shit! This was not something Drake had seen him do, at all. Once again, Drake could feel a difference in his desire? Passion? Fear? It was hard for Drake to get a read on the hero, but something was changing, Drake’s magic could feel it. There was something tied to the hero’s burning eyes. Drake leapt forward and was bathed in a wave of red hot heat. Drake smiled as it bathed him, and then his eyes bulged a bit in surprise, as he felt the heat run through his markings, entangling with his own power and building up, surging toward his fists where he was storing his other magic. BAAAAAAAMMM!
Drake cut through the beams of destructive chaotic power as he struck exactly where he intended, his red hot energized fist concentrating Supes’ power into the ribs of the hero, but he wasn’t finished. As the right fist dug into the stud’s left side, he willed the magic pulse from his hand to push deep through his ribs into the internal organs of the heroic stud.
Superman was caught so off guard as his entire body folded against the fist in his side, his feet almost leaving the ground, his mouth suddenly flying open to let out a labored gasp, Superman huffed, grabbing at his side, his ribs burning. Drake’s rippling stud body was already twisting to throw the next punch against the surprised superhero, this time on his right ribs, and Superman audibly yelped, folding against the punch before sling-shotting to the protected walls, only to bounce back, stumbling at the feet of Drake.
“Ooooh...my insides….feel rearranged..” Superman was talking to himself. The power of the magic had met Superman internally. His weakness to magic was usually a trope, some parlor trick that would annoy him. But this – this had gone past his guard, into his body, past his defenses. Drake grinned, “That won’t be the last time you say that,” those punches had really done a number, and yet still, the stud was near perfect. Except for that fucking cape! Drake reached down, hands still full of magic and tore the cape off, magic slicing through the ‘indestructible’ costume, getting a better look of the hero on all fours, his cobra wide back glorious as the hero pushed himself up, getting to his knees.
Superman’s face was steel contempt and determination. “You like being on your knees champ?” Drake mocked him, Superman went to charge, but Drake clenched his fists, the magic energy still floating around Superman’s insides and the hero reacted as if he’d sat on an electric chair, his muscles in beautiful tension as he spasmed and held onto his sides. A sizzling sound and a bit of smoke emanated. But the magic was no longer that strong, Drake had already depleted it all, though that strange heat vision was still coursing through him and his sigils. He reached down and pulled the hero up by the hair, throwing his back to the wall. Without his cape, somehow every ripple, powerful curve and arch of muscle was more pronounced, Drake eyed the pecs covered in a large S and grabbed them violently, Superman reacted by reaching for Drake’s wrist, his eyes bore into Drake, jaw locked. Superman had come back from much worse, even death before, he knew how to fight back and win.
Drake’s hands softened into a gentle, kneading massage. "HUHHNNG-UHHhh?" Superman was caught off guard, a sudden spike of shock, as Drake was able to barely budge the thick steel slabs of muscle…”Bet those pink nipples are soft though” Drake said flicking his finger where he knew the nip would be for Superman. Superman had a soft, quick, glance and you’ll miss it reaction as he caught his gasp. But Drake wasn’t looking for something external, he could tell the adonis boy scout had no command over these desires, being so uptight and upstanding. There was a small twinge deep inside Superman. Something Superman was incredibly unfamiliar with. Drake's brow twitched, "Gotcha!" He had hooked into the small sexual sensation he felt in Supes, tugging and pulling at it. Drake's tried and true power, one he knew no limit to, was to pull on any physical desire, and completely unleash it. Along his travels he had made it work on beings other than the demons of the underworld , and now it was latched onto Superman.
Except Superman wasn't a Demon, and the small tug Drake had pulled, tugged back. "Oohhohoho, a fighter till the sweet, delicious end, eh?" mocked Drake. Superman pushed against Drake, the Demon went flying, but only a few yards. Superman's chest was suddenly heaving. Drake almost drooled watching those glorious tits rise and fall under his symbolic “S”."Much better!" Drake exclaimed, but suddenly felt winded, his magic very weak, as he didn't have much prowess in the arts or power really. Superman would have taken advantage, if he hadn't been distracted by trying to wrangle his libido, new sensations as his nuts tightened.. Drake rushed forward, reinvigorated by his lust as he grabbed the hero by the back of the head and slammed it into his flexed chest, "INHALLEE MEE" Drake commanded as Superman took a deep breath, indeed breathing in the musky, raw scent of Drake's sweat and strength, Drake tug-tug-tugged again, and Superman moaned ever so slightly, “no”, pushing hard against the pecs of Drake. Drake flew back but barely a full meter before he charged and pressed back into Supes, he was back in Superman’s face, as Superman pushed him away again, Drake took two steps back but in the struggle of the psyche he pulled much harder, Superman slipping. “C’mon SuperStud, you gotta get outta here before things take a turn for the worse…” Drake stepped back into Superman, Superman’s stance was a little slack, his chest a little heavy and ...sweat?
Drake didn’t understand exactly what was happening, but he could feel Superman’s enormous powerful energy, which he had been awash with, concentrating itself in Superman’s crotch...and Drake was intrigued. While this all happened, the heroic hunk was struggling, trying to understand what was happening and finding himself at a loss as his body felt, not weak, but somehow heavier. Drake put himself in front of Superman again, he was towering over the stud now and Superman was suddenly preoccupied. “Wha-what are you doing to me?” the hero, still full of determination, spat at Drake.
Drake grabbed the hunk’s wrists and immediately Superman pulled back. But there were two struggles occurring. The first, the physical struggle, which Superman should have been winning handedly. Superman’s mind was reeling as he had never really felt helpless or confused except in the presence of kryptonite, but this was not that. He pulled, his arms tensing in full aesthetic relief as the demon began to struggle as well. His own body as impressive as Superman’s. Superman had never seen a body as lean, yet thickly muscled at a size like this. Drake’s pecs were rising mounds of striated power as he pulled against Superman, his forearms rife with veiny tributaries...Drake could feel the gaze of Superman soaking him in, simultaneously Drake found more and more ground as he began to wrest away the SuperStud’s self-control. The more he struggled physically, the more he stared at Drake, not aware that contemplating his failure was spiraling into Drake’s control of his longing, and as he did his biology began to redirect his own power.
Superman had already used his heat vision and unbeknownst to him or Drake, that power came from passion, even when used playfully, the very thing that Drake could control in others. It was a huge expenditure of resources for the Man of Steel and usually easily recovered, but the magic had done a number as well. Now, Superman was unaware that his Kryptonian biology was turning its attention away from his usual control and was focused on the need to procreate. It would be an unserved need, but Superman was not well versed, being… "pure of heart", at controlling his arousal. Just like most animals, when the need arises it doesn’t always go away, and in the case of endless regenerative energy, it could be problematic for the muscleman in blue.
Drake continued to tug on the desire, he had been yanking it out more and more, but there was so much left. However, Superman’s focus was clearly declining, as his struggling sculpted arms continued to shake, Drake brought Superman’s hands against his own pecs. “Stop this! I’m not..I’m not like that!” Superman strained, teeth gritted. Drake responded by rolling his pecs in Supe’s hands, then pulling hard against the prudish will of Superman.
"UNNNGGggghh" Superman couldn’t contain his moan, but then caught himself as his mouth clamped tight. “You won’t be quiet for long boss.” Drake had already heaved out more desire and he could feel Superman’s will trying to claw back his self control, but Superman’s pull was oily at best. “What’s happening in your trunks down there, Superman?”
Superman hadn’t been paying attention and Drake dropped his grip, as Superman stumbled forward, hands sliding against Drake's wide thick pecs, then trailing Drake’s arms veined and muscled, hanging by his sides. He and Drake both looked down at the same time, zeroed in on the growth in the crotch of Superman's red trunks. His cock was tugging against his trunks, stretching the waistband as it stayed in place by his tight yellow belt... Superman felt a rush of redness throughout his face and Drake quickly conquered more ground as his power pulled internally more on the stud.
Drake saw his opportunity, feeling shame and humiliation, along with defeat and doubt, Superman’s arousal was easily exploited, a heaving moan leapt from his lips, betraying his usual stoic deep voice, his hand on his head as he tried to clear the overwhelming barrage against his ego, trying to come to grips with this new reality, the other hand holding him up, absentmindedly pressed against Drake’s meaty pec. He could feel his costume clinging more to him, as sweat stained his pits and matted his forehead.
Drake laughed, “Hey champ, you still there?” Superman felt his hand twitching, only to look up and realize it was gripping Drake’s rolling pec for support, his cock hardened further as Drake pulled, the surprised realization strategically giving Drake the upper hand, removing more of the remaining will power from Superman. Superman stumbled back, then tripped over himself, his cock bouncing in his tights, he dropped to his back as his cock was stimulated by pressing so hard against his blue tights and red jock, his hips thrusting in the air. The sensation was overwhelming. Superman was having his first sexual awakening, his defenses so weak and unprepared. Drake squatted so he could observe. “Here lemme help you stud.” Drake tore away the blue tights from the waist down, with a little bit of magic to help. Supes’s cock could feel the open air as it tented against his red trunks, which began to stain at the head of Superman’s cock. His balls were tightening as much as his stomach. His decency gone, his cock tugging against his trunks, his steel hard cock tenting so hard he felt as the fabric began to wedge between his glutes, feeling the cool air of the warehouse on his hot cock., breathing heavy as his hands curled awkwardly, then he flopped to his back, his hips pushing into the air, his jock completely tented. Superman sucked in air, getting control of himself, he'd not been weakened like this before...or aroused. He slowly rolled over, his cock stabbing the floor as he winced then moaned, and got to his hands and knees, his powerful body struggling to hold the himself up, as his hips thrust forward into his jock and he moaned louder, uncontrollably, “OOOHNNNNNGGHHH.”
Gritting his teeth against the pleasure he was trying to fight, he saw two feet step in front of him and looked up, viewing Drake's huge wrapped bulge, meaty pecs and shit-eating grin. "S-s-stop this!" Superman commanded...weakly. "Sorry Big Blue, that doesn't sound genuine at all." Drake continued tugging away on Superman's will and felt Superman give even more.
*********
Part 3:
Superman pushed himself up to his knees, his bare legs sitting on his boots as he looked up at Drake, who’s monstrous bulge and thick pecs, ripped abs...everything was stimulating Superman. His cock twitched , pushing so hard that his trunks looked more like a thong as the ‘indestructible’ material stretched to thonglike thinness. Drake’s hulking meat was wrapped directly in front of him, and Drake pulled on his wrappings, letting the cloth unfold. “Like what you see handsome?” Drake watched as Superman, clearly subconsciously, licked his lips and gulped. Drake watched Supes' cock pushing harder against his precum stained panties, feeling Supes' will give more and more as he moaned in very unheroic fashion. "Sounds like you're slipping Big Blue!"
"N-n-never!" Superman quivered as Drake grinned, Superman’s eyes still hypnotically staring at the soft, massive cock before him. Drake could feel Superman's will power continue to fade, "Stop trying to fight it, MAN of STEEL." Superman did want it, Rao he wanted it so bad-- Moaning "NO. No...PLEASE..pleaseee" more to himself than Drake, trying to not give in, while his cock felt harder by the second. "You've gone from demands, to begging.” Damn, he looked even hotter suffering. Drake felt his own cock start to swell, “Watch. This is what a REAL cock looks like!” Superman did as he was told, though as his hands went to manhandle his trapped cock, he still fought it, directing them to clench his thighs instead, but he started to bounce, slowly, on his heels, again licking his lips.
“You want it?” Drake asked rhetorically.
Superman looked up, biting his lower lip, before slowly at first, then with more vigor, he began nodding his head. Suddenly a black chain rattled from behind, it wrapped once around the front of his neck then slammed itself into the magical barrier behind him. Superman was held in place by the neck. Drake stepped closer, his cock just out of Superman’s reach. Superman could smell it, feel the heat of Drake’s cock. The power. “Go on...if you can lick it then I’ll let you suck it…” Drake couldn’t believe his own patience, but making the stud suffer was just turning him on more. Drake was also still pulling, as the hero had reserves of will power, while he also noticed other emotions spiraling in with the arousal: shame, defeat, depravity.
Superman stuck out his tongue, almost at the tip, the chains rattled, then Superman choked like an untrained puppy as they tightened around his neck. “Get up on those knees Superslut.” Superman scooted back and sat on his legs, now his head was about perfectly level with Drake’s fuck meat. “What’s that ‘S’ stand for? Slut or suck?” Drake laid his cock against the symbol on Superman’s chest, Superman looking down at it, his heavy breathing causing Drake’s cock to rise and fall slightly with his chest, like a gourmet meal just in reach, his mouth dry at first, licking his lips and staring, until he was near drooling.... “H-hope…” Superman whimpered hypnotized by the sight. Drake laughed, “OOOHHHH! So SuperSlut has been HOPING to SUCK a dick? Why don’t you flex those pretty tits of yours, so your hopes can become a reality?” Superman stared, his family crest covered by the cock that laid in the rift between his thick pecs. For a moment, Drake thought he was confused, or unwilling, but he then his cock rose as Superman’s juicy pecs flexed together. Superman’s hard-on pressed even harder against its stained red speedo prison, as he debased himself and what he stood for, his pecs pushing together as a lift for the pleasure pump he wanted to taste so badly. Superman was huffing the smell, his pec mounds lifting Drake’s piece, his desperate tongue stretching and touched the tip of Drake’s mighty cock. Drake wasted no time as he rammed forward.
Superman could taste the monstrous invader, his lips pulling across the wide expanse of Drake's prodigious member. As Drake pulled back, Superman's lips would pout outward, slurping as much as he could of Drake, before Drake jousted forward, Supes' lips puckering. Superman could taste the tang and salt of Drake's cock, feel the ridges and veins. “Keep those tits tight Champ, I gotta wipe my dick off on something!” The head of Drake's cock led the charge again and Superman began...enjoying...the feeling of it filling his mouth. Drake felt it happening too, the enjoyment, as his power continued to pour into Superman, in more ways than one. Superman was losing his will, and his mouth was telling the whole story. Drake made sure he pushed his shaft into Superman’s raised tits as Superman began using his tongue, lapping on Drake's dick, using what was left of super speed to lick the ridge, the underneath, around the head as it thrust in and out, tasting it and pushing into it. Superman felt his breath get hot and heavy as he moaned heartily on Drake's cock, his eyes closing in the thrill of being mouth fucked. Of being outclassed. Of being overpowered. Superman began sucking hard on Drake's cum pump, Drake enthused, but more obsessed with his own power and dominating status, than Superman's clear physical submisiveness. "You like that? You like getting fucked in that pretty mouth, dontcha boy? Tell me about Truth and Justice while my cock slides across that heroic emblem and your mouth is full of dick!”
“I want you to keep those bitch tits together, lemme see that big slut “S” bulging over those granite pecs!” Superman looked at Drake’s fuck tool, mouth hung open dripping precum and spittle, hypnotically dazed, he pushed his biceps into his pecs as they flexed tightly, bulging forward…”Good bitch, keep that mouth open and show me you want a drink” Drake continued tugging, pulling Superman’s libido to unmatched passion, as the hero desperately stretched out his tongue, moaning, spittle over his lips inviting his wet mouth and mammoth pecs, big blue eyes pleading above his flushed cheeks. Drake felt the warm exhaust from Superman’s welcoming mouth and shot his demon semen over the hero, slamming his Super Cleavage as it sprayed, watching Superman lap the cum that sprayed his mouth like a canine sprayed with a hose. Drake’s cock stayed rock hard, still turned on by the sight. “Yeah, look at that proud symbol covered in my DNA SuperBitch!” Superman looked down at his swollen pecs, his “S” shield covered and dripping with Drake’s cum. His cock jolting as he was degraded, flowing into the sexual pull Drake had over him, he let out a helpless wanton whimper. Drake stepped closer and dick slapped the hero, the hard splats underscoring his words, “You *smack* may *smack* stand *smack* for *smack* Truth *smack* or *smack* Justice *smack* but *smack* you *smack* kneel *smack* for *smack* SUPERIOR *smack* DICK *SMAAACK*! Drake could feel his cock slam the side of the hero’s head as the magic chain disappeared and Superman’s sexually overwhelmed body dropped to the side.
Superman heaved heavily and with strain, hearing Drake taking steps toward him. The only other sound was the desperate squelching as another load shot through Superman’s trunks. Superman pulled his head up as he moaned in frustration and pleasure. The hero’s senses were suffering an onslaught. His cock- rock hard , tugging his red trunks into an obscene G-string, torturing the head of his cock with constant hellish stimulus. He kept his shaking hands from freeing it, he knew if his hands touched his burning hot shaft, they may never leave and he’d be lost forever. He could smell the sex now dripping off his chest, embedding into the very fabric of his homeland. He could still taste it and this made his cock strain more. He struggled to push himself up to all fours, muscles tired and aching, trembling, every muscle flexing as he tried to regain some will power to push through the experience overwhelming his very fiber of self. His costume torn so that the open air lightly breezed across his throbbing rod also caused an unending sawing of thin but “indestructible” floss that gently sawed his tight, untapped hole.
Drake watched the struggle as the hero made faint grunting noises trying to hoist himself up to all fours. The will to fight and return to some vestige of dignity turned Drake on, sending him to a place of sadistic manipulation he would normally have spent physically fucking his prize already. Superman was still contemplating any possibility of escape, recognizing the futility of his situation when Drake appeared to his left, squatting, his huge rock hard cock -- Superman whimpered as he ignored those creeping thoughts, even as cum still drooled from his mouth, instead, looking sheepishly over muscled shoulder, his eyes locked onto Drake’s as the demon began to speak.
“Look Champ, looks like you have a -” he broke as he eyed Superman’s throbbing cock then back to the hiding hero- “hard choice to make here and I want you to be able to. See those doors over there?” Drake pointed to the warehouse doors. “If you have to leave, and no longer want to partake in our little exchange, just make it to those doors and I’ll let you free. Would you like that?”
Superman weakly nodded his head and the weakest most pathetic “y-yees” quivered from his lips. Superman turned his head to the door, his gut in knots, now having an opportunity to make it all stop. He pulled his right palm off the floor, his left knee too. It was at this time Drake smirked. Drake was still holding tight to the charging sexual power deep in the gut of Superman...deep in his nuts. He had been playfully tugging at it since the perfectly built hero had sucked and slurped on his vanquishing cock, but had not pulled. Not hard at all. But as he saw the hero’s pathetic attempt at moving toward the door, he gave a mighty tug, feeling a rush of pleasure within himself that was only the side effect of what he had done to the hero.
Superman was suddenly jolted with such an overwhelming desire and wave of pleasure, shame...he slipped, and his sweaty palm slid out, his left leg gave out, and he was flat on the warehouse floor. He could feel his cock had slammed into the floor and slid underneath him, pressing firmly flat, pointing away from his chest now and displayed between his thighs.
“What’s this Super? You wanted to show me something?” The sweat covered stud could feel more pressure along the length of his cock, the downward pull almost painful as his cock so badly hardened to flip back up...Superman pulled his hips up just barely off the floor and his hips sank back down, the feeling was incredible. The pressure on his hardened dick, the tug against the head of his cock…He did it again.
Drake was in disbelief. “Hey hero, are you fucking the warehouse? Are you that much a slut?” Superman moaned then bit his lip and let out a frustrated yelp. He grabbed the sides of his head, and tried to pull himself off the ground, only to hump the floor again, and then again...the very image of his heroic self pathetically humping the ground beneath him sent him into a mental frenzy. Drake listened and watched as Superman was fighting a losing battle, his hips sexily gyrating and humping, lifting slightly, glutes tightening, cock leaking as his fists clenched, then sporadically he grabbed the sides of his head, “No-no don’t do this…” telling himself as he would hump the floor again and moan, as he did it in front of a foe…”Oh SWEET KRYPTON PLEASEE” Every muscle in his back tensing, suddenly one of his arms, still laying on the cold floor, swung down, Drake watching as the hero continued to lose, his hand going underneath him, obviously headed to stimulate his cock further.
“There, there buddy…looks like you need some help!” Drake mocked as he planted both feet on opposite sides of the hunky helpless hero. Reaching down he pulled at the elbow of the traveling hand and brought Superman’s arm out, batting it away, watching as through gyrating hips, Superman would occasionally reveal his g-stringed hiding pucker. He licked his lips as he pulled the hero’s hips, bringing the hero’s cock off the floor to a pitiful moan of disappointment. “That’s how you get to your knees, you were good at being on your knees just moments ago, but clearly you need some help.” The hero’s ass pointed straight up, his cock full of pumped blood, trapped in the velvet cum soaked prison of his making and the side of his face pushed into the floor. Drake reminded the hero, “All you have to do is get to that door, crawl forward, and you’re free...or else..” Drake grabbed his cock and slammed it against the uplifted pucker, the reverberating pleasure cause Superman to grab at his temples, like a rung bell, pleasure resonating within him and through him. This moan wasn’t pathetic or held back, it was loud and echoed off the walls in the same way his shame and rapture echoed inside him. Drake took a step back as the hero’s futile struggle continued. “Or else you can back that ass into my cock, telling me you want to be ravaged and owned, split from the inside, and admit you are nothing more than a cockfiend.”
Superman bit his lower lip, his face contorting, his cock once again dribbling more cum while never resting...he could feel his asshole puckering, feel the sawing of thin fabric on his hole, causing his cock to jump and jolt, causing more sawing, an endless feedback loop deepening the theme of his moral depravity and loss of control. He finally was able to push himself to both hands, though the powerful body that had stopped meteors and moved mountaintops was shaking and sweaty, dripping onto the warehouse floor. Lifting his palm and knee again, he made a pathetic attempt, crawling toward his salvation. He was able to do it again...and again...eyes locked on the warehouse floor. Drake cooed, “Good hero, good. Keep it up!” Superman was able to do it again and again until his pucker was finally hit by the fleshy tube behind him. Superman looked over his shoulder as he saw Drake, back to the wall, and cock against his hole. “Wait -n-noo...what…”Superman looked forward...he had been crawling away, backing his ass up toward Drake the entire time, the doors of his possible escape were further than ever before. His body was telling him, he needed to feel Drake’s cock.
“That’s it stud...tell Drake what you really want..”
Superman looked behind him, slowly lowering his chest, still covered in Drake’s earlier release as it squelched against warehouse floor, lifting his ass fully into the air, “PLEASEE...PLEASSEE DRAKE!” pleading, almost sobbingly.
Drake slowly slid his finger against the hero’s glute and between his stretched speedo. He could feel the sawing of the speedo as the hero’s cock now jumped uncontrollably. Like pulling a bowstring he simply moved the fabric, and with his other hand, he grabbed the base of his cock, and slapped it against the hero’s perfect untapped rose bud. He repeated this to emphasize his words, “TELL - ME - WHAT - YOU - NEED-” The same echoing waves of pleasure hitting the hero as his hole blinked furiously trying to kiss the mighty pleasure pole.
Suddenly, Drake reached down and grabbed Superman by the back of his head, turning, Drake slammed the hero's head against the wall, pinning him with his forearm and he roughly tugged on his ass cheeks, relishing their athletic firmness while running the length of his cock down his ass and against the full nuts and raging hard on of the hero, feeling the cum soaked speedo tightly gripping Superman's disgraced cock as he pumped his cock through the boyscout’s thick legs.. The Man of Steel moaned. He was exhilarated and ashamed, helplessly pressed against the wall like some school aged wimp. He had never been manhandled before. “Oh, moaning? Is that your real superpower?” Drake grinned, and felt the hero’s cock jump as Drake took the sign to mean he liked it…”You wanna be a bitch dontcha Supermoan?” The stud in blue whimpered while his head nodded between Drake’s forearm and the wall. “You want to bounce on this cock?” At this point Superman’s cock was nearly streaming cum, the sound evident as he pathetically coated Drake’s massive tip and cock. Drake couldn’t believe that such a man, a true SUPER man would have such an overwhelming response. The demon’s eyes suddenly widened with realization, as he pulled back, stretching out his arm to hold the hero’s head in place, his cock tracing the length of Superman’s cock, balls and underside, until it lined up between his thickly muscled glutes. “You’re a virgin, aren’t ya?” Drake grinned, as the hero winced, and his fists clenched. “Say it!” The hero gulped and his glutes trembled, shakily grazing Drake’s massive battering ram, “I-I-am...a-v-virgin.” All while saying it the sound of the hero’s indefatigable nuts churning more, cum pouring through his cock head and dripping onto the warehouse floor. “
*********
Part 4:
Drake’s eyes glowered with focus and animalistic intensity, his body radiating with power, tattoos across his body sizzling with a barely discernible smokeless flickering black flame - an infernal heat of dominance and carnal desires - as his massive cock slammed fully into the naively yearning flesh cavern before him. For what seemed like an eternity there was no reaction from the leaking Superman, his face submissively pressed into the wall, his bulky muscled arms merely holding him in place and his wide back picturesque in relaxed power. Then came a sudden guttural whimper , catching in his throat as a vein popped in his forehead, face turning a shade redder than his previously gasping and gulping display. And then, his eyes widening in sudden realization and pain, Superman’s magnificently muscled form erupted in a herculean display of instant regret as his cock desire was met. Sinewy, powerful muscle flexed in impotent defeat as he felt his glutes split asunder, still perfect in form though no longer parallel, in capitulation to Drake’s veined invader.
Then Superman let out a spittle filled scream, head still slammed helplessly into the wall, pinned by Drake’s forearm. Drake watched the entire scene play out, only to feel more power wash over him and indurate his cock as it contracted then pulsed over and over inside Superman’s newly re-arranged insides. As the defeated hero let out an uncharacteristically pitiful wail, Drake pulled back his hips and felt the most sensational mancunt hungrily slurp across his turgid cock. He briefly tossed his head back in delight, before more translucent black flames leapt from his body, licking the air, and his eyes darkened, glowing red. Superman witnessed this all, but was still negotiating his absolute defeat and humiliation, only to feel fear spike in his gut, just as Drake’s massive gut puncher slammed in again.
Superman’s legs flopped and he desperately curved forward, pushing his big pecs in front of him as his face scrubbed the wall and his arms tensed uselessly in athletic relief , trying to accommodate Drake’s drilling.
“Good, Daddy’s little whore can arch his back!” complimenting the Superwhore sent a wave of indescribable esteem through Superman. Drake’s thrusting continued to grow in power as Drake recognized the constant rejuvenation of Superman’s ass, each thrust felt as tight and insatiable as the last. “Your pussy is such a greedy cunt!” The audible heavy splats, much heavier than before, also spoke to the indefatigable nature of the hero’s biology as his cock surrendered load after identically large load. His ass always as tight as that first virginal plunge and his load always a pathetic heap of sexually overwhelmed subjugation. This angered Drake, as if Superman was audaciously choosing to, by merely existing, resist that final sexual weariness and exhaustion that ultimately was the need of Drake’s dominance. The flames of lust grew hotter. He was disgusted by Superman’s endless inferiority and undeserved resilience. The hero constantly mewling in a mix of pleasure and pain. Drake knew what the challenge was, he intended to fuck the ‘super’ out of his opponent. “Hold on whore!” commanded Drake as his vice grip dug into the hero’s hips, rapidfire thrusting at near full length. Superman’s moans began to choke and stutter, so fierce Drake’s power drilling that Superman’s diaphragm had to make way, the pathetic moans and groans even more so miserable as they caught in his throat. Superman was completely lost, and he could feel Drake’s power, his dominance, unable to deny it. His face now bouncing off the wall repeatedly. Through forced chokes he exclaimed, “Swee-HNG-eet -GNHH- Kryp-TNNGH-tonnn!”
Drake, unforgivingly, continued to slide out and pull with force Superman’s tight hips, slamming his globed ass against his pelvis, over and over , on and on. The battered hero could only brace himself as his ass was plunged repeatedly, his mind reeling and his cock spewing. Superman could hear his grunts of pain become stronger, more pleading moans, adding to his inner turmoil, as Drake's corrugated cock punched along his prostate like an overworked speed bag. So thick and hard were the throbbing veins pulsing along Drake’s cock that they pummeled then squeezed his bitch button. Drake wasintensely focused, specific, and methodical noticing the changes in the hero, as he slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, then inevitably as Superman’s ass lips continue to stretch, tug, and pull along the sex Demon’s relentless fuck stick, the hero began to moan deeply, still forced to hiccup from the monstrous thrusts and deep intrusion of Drake’s burning cock, but the moans were overpowering the grunts of pain at this point. The pain was also becoming Superman’s pleasure - redefining his needs. Superman was bleary eyed, as he continued to be devastated, drooling from his open mouth. “You like that champ?” Drake asked, continuing the hunk’s descent into bottom bitch oblivion, to which Superman too eagerly replied , “Y-YE-YESSS GETTING FUC-UNNG-KKED” and Drake felt the hero’s insides tighten around his cock faster than before as his cock SPEWED. “What’s” THRUST “getting” THRUST “fucked?!” THRUST! Drake punctuated his words as he punched into his fuckmeat. “OH MYY A-AHHHAASSS” Superman found it hard to speak through the thrusts and the overwhelming orgasms. “YOU DON’T HAVE AN ASS BITCH, THAT’S A CUNT - SAY IT!” Supes relished in the opportunity to take orders instead of give them, his alpha ego finally being put to rest as he screamed in capitulation - “MY CUNTTT Y-Y-YOU’REEE UGHHH BIGG -D-DICCKKK IS FUCCKINNGG MY TT-TIGHTT CUNNTTT!” Drake smiled, then sneered, and changed it up...
Forcefully and still buried deep inside, Drake spun the hero about on his shoulders, which led to an earsplitting shriek from the hero. “Shut up bitch!” Drake roared, reaching forward and using Superman’s ripped costume like a makeshift harness, he balled the "S" up in his fist, his bicep flexed as he curled his arm. Now that he could leverage the hero’s weight, Superman’s legs uncontrollably flopping as his teeth snapped shut only for his mouth to reopen as he sailed along Drake’s cock, the overwhelming g-forces, moaning in heat, over and over as his head continued to yo-yo back and forth. “MY CUNTTT unngghh GUNNGHH GETTINNGG FUCCKKEEDD” Drake expertly changed his pace and depth, deftly working the hunk internally, providing mind-shattering pleasure with each pump. The hero’s torso and pecs were quickly covered in his own cum. “YOUR FUCKING CUM GUTTERS ARE ALREADY FLOODING WHORE!” Drake could feel the raw sexual magic burning across his body, as more and more demonic lust overtook him and erupted in Superman’s fuck chute. Drake enjoyed watching Superman’s internal struggle manifesting outwardly as the muscled bitch brought his hands up through his hair, squeezing his temples. Superman then looked down at his body being fucked, his cock bouncing and spewing, the powerfully large cock skewering him and the impossibly perfect form of the monster doing it, tangled emotions of despair and lust, sensations of pain and pleasure, his big biceps tensing as he squeezed his head, as if he could make it go away, biting his lip, then arching his head back, only to whip it back and see himself being fucked, big pecs jiggling. Drake reveled in the hero surveying his own pecs , and with a his free hand harshly flicked the panting hunk’s left nipple, the force causing his pec to ripple and cum to splatter against his face! “OOOOOoooOOOoooOOHHH” the hero’s eyes fluttered in pleasure, and still thrusting, Drake commanded, “Look, you’re big bitch tits are lactating!” The degradation caused another hard shot of cum from Superman’s cock. Every thrust seemed to push out another load from the defeated hunk, and his nuts stayed full and heavy - Drake was as ravenous as he was impressed.
“C’mon hero, my dick needs saving from boredom, see if your supercunt can do something about it! Put those powers to good use, you overgrown whimpering cock sock!” Drake brought his arms up and rested his head in his hands. Honed in on the hero, he willed him to obey - powerful waves of persuasion pulsing from the lustful flames surrounding him and the same magical flames now buried deep in the hunky hero by Drake’s throbbing cock. His face broke into a cocky grin, though his eyes still held that powerful lust as the overwhelmed hero, Superman, panting loudly, mustered up what little power of flight he could, and began ramming himself up and down the length of drake’s cock over and over again, faster than a speeding fleshlight, the shell of a hero exclaiming loudly each time, his mind focused on the precision and desperate need of service toward Drake’s monster rod, creating a Doppler effect of capitulation as his cock spewed all along himself and the warehouse floor. There had been absolutely no resistance at all to his suggestion, and Drake found the rhythm and pumped in unison as the hero plunged himself repeatedly using his failing powers, drained as his overwhelmed balls needed to regenerate load after load, causing grunting gasps from the chiseled stud until he faltered, one powerful thrust from Drake sent the exhausted hero through the air, up, then landing with a sticky splat in his own musky lake of defeat. “Cuntbusted Superman?”Drake plodded over, his huge cock pulsing with power as Superman stared pathetically, his body folded comically, his legs over his head, his arms askew, eyes locked on Drake’s big tool, only for another shot of spunk to shoot from his impossibly hard cock as his nuts squeezed. Drake roughly grabbed underneath Superman’s legs and pushed them toward the hunk as he did this, “HOLD THESE BITCH!” Superman mindlessly grabbed the back of his thighs doing as he was told and moaning, while Drake grabbed the top of them, and THRUSTED hard into the man of steel. Superman’s mouth gaped open in pain and his eyes widened, as his completely put together insides were mangled again, but so pleasurable was the sensation, a huge wad of his superspunk flew up, only to volley hard and slap the handsome stud directly in the face, his open mouth catching his spunk, tasting it as it stretched across his lips before the hot viscous load sank to his tongue. Drake grinned at the deplorable display, and pulled back again , causing the hunk to moan uncontrollably in pleasure and swallow his load. Drake RAMMED inside him again, relishing the completely renewed tightness. Superman’s face contorted in pain as he unleashed another load, fucked right out of him by Drake’s dominance, and it slammed into his face. Drake began long dicking him again, as the hero’s cum covered face, dripping from brow to lip, looked down past his jiggling pecs and watched Drake pulling out , then watched as it slammed back in him, whimpering as his head whipped back, only to moan uncontrollably with ecstasy. Drake loved watching the stud wildly cum and moan, “That’s right champ, drink up your pole protein, you need to keep these big useless muscles in shape for the pictures they’ll take of you when I dump you in front of the Daily Planet.” Drake could feel toxic lust overwhelming him as he continued fucking the gasping powerless muscleman.
He was overwhelmed by his own lust, his own power, which only made him fuck with more and more abandon. He pulled the hero’s head roughly, and then pushed his leg behind first his left, then right shoulder, making the sex enslaved stud contort into a pretzel. Superman looked up at Drake with pleading eyes , his open mouth now closer to his ever spewing cock. Drake disregarded any hope for pity and wrapped his fingers at the back of the neck of the hero pulling down while driving his hips forward, watching the contorted warping of Superman’s features as disbelief, pain, and pleasure rapidly crossed his handsome face, all while his cock endlessly spewed cum. Drake looked down at the jiggling muscle mass as he continued to plunder his hole, his big arms pressed against his twisted up legs, pecs bouncing and dripping with his own cock juice. He forced the heaving beefcake to look him in the eyes,“FUCK I thought you were sexy when you strutted around in that tight suit showing off your powerful muscles - completely in control, but you’re even sexier being a real helpless slut! Now whimper louder for me you worthless cum bucket!”
Drake continued pounding Superman’s ass, relishing the feel of those thickly muscled glutes bouncing against his pelvis as he thrusted with abandon into the hunk’s incredibly tight hole, hearing Superman’s cheeks clap along his dick and his superior balls slam against the hero’s helplessly churning nuts. At this point Superman was being reduced to a fuck toy with pathetic sound effects. His once steel hard body was now a bouncing jiggly mass of conquered fuck meat, a relic of his former poise and power. Superman was struggling to handle the force of this powerdicking , as he cried out repeatedly for reprieve between wheezing heaving whimpers, “PLEASEE DRAAAKKEE UNNGHH NO AAAGGH MORREE UNNGGGHH SOO OOHH BIIGGG FUUCCKk, SWEETTT NNGGH KRRYPTTON OHHH” Drake refused to stop , to even pause. There would be no rest, he could feel time stop and space collapse as his entire body erupted in powerful lustful energy, and his eyes darkened, then his cock ERUPTED. The hot thick load blasted Superman’s insides, and as the hero nearly shot off the massive dick of Drake, Drake grasped his shoulders to make sure the hero was filled with his seed. It spewed from every orifice of the Hero’s body before the broken body flew up into the air, held aloft by the unyielding load before finally susbiding and the hero dropped from the top of the warehouse to the floor. As he landed face down, more cum harshly squirted from his ass.
“Looks like I fucked the SUPER right outta ya!” the formerly composed beauty had been reduced to a babbling, twitching study of defeated and stained heroic anatomy. Superman’s intense piercing blue gaze replaced by a glazed blank stare, square set jaw now slack, cum-leaking from his gaping maw and his now gaping asshole sputtered Drake’s hot cum.
“Alright, clearly you’re spent. No more SUPER left in ya, huh princess?” Superman couldn’t respond of course, he was only able to pathetically moan, his ripped body sporadically twitching. “Lemme take this off ya then…” Drake reached down and tore off Superman’s emblem from his chest, leaving a hole in the costume where it had once been. “Let’s remember to clean this off too…” Drake gathered Superman’s costume from the waist, pulling it up more, then, grabbing the muscle bound imbecile, he threaded his giant cock through the suit so it came out of the newly formed hole and pushed into Superman’s mouth. “There ya go big man, really get it clean” Drake grabbed the back of his head and made sure to go in as deep as he could while his cock was threaded through the hole where the hero’s “S” used to be. Drake looked down at the babbling hero, or more accurately, his prized fuck meat. Superman was beautiful, even in defeat, maybe moreso. He kneeled there, covered in his and Drake's cum, once perfectly shaped hair, disheveled and sticky, determined gaze replaced with a blank stare as he babbled, bubbles of cum sometimes popping on his lips. He would spasm, occassionally his back would arch or his pecs would ripple in erotic relief.Drake dropped the hero and went to pick up the cape he had tossed off early in their fight, which had been hiding Superman's glorious backside, should he take it as his memento, of one of the best fucks of his long, travelled life? He looked back at the now, what could best be determined, brain dead hero. Superman had not only been fucked to oblivion, but beyond comprehension. Drake realized those shots of power coming from Superman's balls hadn't been ‘regeneration’, but had been overpowering orgasms, and they seemed to be lined up for a very long time, shooting through him rapid fire. Magic hadn't been Supes' real weakness, being a pent-up goody goody for so long had. Enough for Superman's ego to succumb to Drake's more dominant libido. "Ah, well, you were good while you lasted boy. Too bad all good things, must come to an end.”
Drake used a bit of magic to pull down a heavy hook from the rafters, the chain of it still attached to the top. He went to where the hero was and hooked his left boot firmly and then hoisted the hero up, his big arms hanging toward the warehouse floor, his destroyed costume drenched in cum stuck tight to his body and his gurgling ass still bubbling with Drake’s seed. “Here Boy Scout…” Drake deftly fisted the hero’s cape deep into his ass, plugging the cum filled hole, and leaving a bit of the tip out. Superman’s cock bounced, but his shriveled balls weren’t able to produce any loads, he could only make incomprehensible sounds, “UNghoaukRHHghnn” before moaning again and twitching. “I’m taking this though, need something to wipe my dick off with occasionally.” Drake grabbed the “S” emblem he had ripped earlier, and a big purple portal appeared in front of him. He looked back just before stepping through, whispering to himself, “Fuck,” in memory of what had just happened.Epilogue
Superman still hung in the warehouse. It had been more than a few days, and the hero’s cock still twitched uncontrollably, his body dripping with cum that was being osmosed from deep inside his anal cavity. A slow dripping from his cape as the demon’s cum slowly dripped down his body and onto his pecs, around his neck and down his face. When possible his tongue would lap some up.
“Right this way sir.” The warehouse doors opened.
“I’ve got it from here. Is there always such an awful stench in these places? It reeks of a college dormitory!” Someone sneered.
There was the sound of cold dress shoes against the warehouse floor and then a sudden stop. The sound of acute surveillance as the dressed up businessman surmised and analyzed the very sight before him.
“Well. This may truly have been a worthwhile last minute purchase.” His phone made a beep. “I have a code Green. Dock 15, warehouse 7. Immediately!” He went to hang up - but briefly heard front his device.
“Yessir Mr. Luthor, we’ll be there in 3 minutes!” Lex Luthor smiled as he stared at a slab of meat known as Superman right before him.