Enhanced & Further Embellished by Rick Henry, 11-30-2015; expanded from ten pages to twenty-five, with author’s permission, 12-2015.
Original story by Todd Fleming.(This story contains gay erotic material not suitable for minors. If you would be offended, please do not read. More stories are available by this author at www.todd-fleming.com. )
Dr. Tentacle glared down at his desk with a snarl. The latest edition of the The New York Times lay open on the surface, with a picture of the proud hero, SuperiorMan, plastered all over the front page. In a moment of frustration, he ripped the paper off the desk, crumpled it into a ball and hurled it across his office. How he hated that do-gooder super hero! SuperiorMan was the only obstacle between him and world domination. But despite his best efforts, the hero had managed to defeat him every single time. The doctor had spent years researching every possible angle to determine the source of SuperiorMan’s powers. He knew he did not have the brawn nor wherewithal to effectively defeat his nemesis, but his intellectual prowess alone was going to prove more than a match for the bubbling super hero. His current hypothesis was that SuperiorMan’s powers must be directly related to or influenced by his sex drive, or reproductive nature. Something extraordinarily unusual in his genetic code had to give this alien his innate superiority. No being could be that invincible!
Thus, Dr. Tentacle suspected that if the hero could somehow be sexually ensnared, enticed, stimulated, or controlled, then his super-strength might be pared away. Like a Samson shown of his vulnerable locks by Delilah? The woman who could drain his semen might then be the one to capture the stud! So the doctor had sent scores of sexy, skilled nymphos to try to seduce the hero... without creating the slightest interest, result, or twitch of the hero’s huge basket. (His endowment, obvious as the size of his arms... surely, he must enjoy using it?!) The doctor had even published a great bounty for whoever could entice SuperiorMan by possibly sexually stimulating him, and luring him into a compromising situation, to capture his semen for further analysis, or just as an outright “embarrassment” to shame him into simple blackmail. It was a well-publicized item throughout the underground for those concerned and a great boon and enticement for any single woman to dare or attempt. No doubt some plucky dame could do the job. It was just a matter of time, the right situation... the right secluded place.
[SuperiorMan, of course, was well aware of all this, and basically had no end of amusement thinking this was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Also... woefully recognizing the veiled hidden truth of the matter. God help him, if it happened. He was NOT made of steel .]
Yet, all who had tried had failed. Damn, was the man that resistant to sex? Or was he merely a-sexual? Could be? But with a body like that, how could he even stand to look at himself in the bathroom mirror shaving, or showering, without being turned on? Maybe it was he just chose to pleasure himself only , to kingdom come, and had no desire for a partner a total, complete, and capable narcissist? Or, being alien... was sexually dead?
With a quick adjustment to his thick glasses, Dr. Tentacle stood to his feet and left his office. He stalked down the hall, and went into his laboratory to begin experiments for his latest invention. He had to find a way to defeat SuperiorMan once and for all. Perhaps a new form of aphrodisiac gas? That might do it. He had thrown every weapon against him and none of them had had the slightest effect. The only chink in his powers he could think of to link onto was the sexual enticement one and that seemed impossible to crack. Or perhaps, the creature had no sexual nature that could be stirred or touched after all? (Funny, the others
had been such fair game. Most of them eunuchs, now. Lure them in, turn them on switch them off!! Kaput! Relatively simple, how even the mightiest can fall.) Oh, how he wanted that damn hero out of his way! He had to find a method to overpower him.
“Uh, boss?” A deep voice boomed behind him.
The doctor turned. It was one of his bodyguards at the door. “What is it?”
“There is someone here to see you about the bounty. I think you better come right away. It appears... he has SuperiorMan with him. And yours for the taking.”
Dr. Tentacle gasped, and rushed passed his bodyguard, down the hall, past of blur of artworks, and back into his office. And there!! His mouth fell open at the sight of SuperiorMan on his knees in the middle of the floor. A blanket and blindfold heaped aside, the super hero’s wrists were behind his back, bound with a thin, token rope a studded, leather dog collar fixed firmly around his thick neck. His handsome head was bowed humbly, facing downward. His normally pristine red, blue and yellow uniform was stained with sweat, blood, grease, and dirt... and stretching against the fabric of his notably-sized crotch was a mounded, well-contained erection that looked like it was on the verge of ripping through his briefs. But his skin... what he could see of it, looked oddly purple and brownish-blue, as if he’d been run over by a truck! Two trucks?!!
The mad villain could hardly contain his rancorous glee. Had he been right? He looked around for the woman who had managed to break SuperiorMan. But all he saw was a devilishly handsome young stalwart, quite attractive, with model good-looks, a rash of glorious blond hair, grinning at him. The youth was also obviously nicely, but leanly muscled, athletic-looking in a college-frat sort of way, not even six feet tall... weaving a leather strap loosely back and forth, the leash in his hand, that was connected to the hero’s bowed neck. He was sitting back, relaxed on the plush couch. Nonchalant as if waiting for a beer.
“I’m here for the bounty!” the young man spoke confidently. “Ten million, wasn’t it?”
Dr. Tentacle’s draw dropped. He stared in astonishment at the helpless, massively muscled, but bashfully turned-on hero at his feet, and to the trim, but not really effeminate, mod-cultured, young man holding his leash: the man in charge! Then it hit him. SuperiorMan was gay!? Had to be! The Dr.’s thoughts jumped wildly. Bingo!! No wonder he’d never gotten the hero snared by throwing women at him. (Even naked women with 42” breasts and 26” waists, in distress, stranded on a deserted beach. SuperiorMan had merely wrapped them in his cape and carried them off to safety or home without the slightest flicker of a kiss or care; his iron-resistance never failing, nor self-control cracked. Amazing!)
“He’s a fag!!” the doctor gasped.
“Easy on the language, doc. Some men just like men,” the young man raised an eyebrow, tilted his head to the side.
“I’m sorry. My apologies. No matter. The term justifies the means, wouldn’t you say?” he rubbed his hands together, beside himself. Then looking down at the subject at his feet, “Right, Superior-Fag?!?”
The broken hero flushed furiously, and lowered his head further in shame. It was still torture for him to know he had been taken down so easily, and by such a younger, lesser man... (no matter how much he had nearly begged for it to be so, inside him)... and now, to be displayed like a hapless, piece of meat practically gelded, and ripe for the grinding. His spirit was crushed.
“So, tell me how you did you do it? How did you capture our once SuperiorMan!”
The doctor was all ears, urgent to hear, seating himself at his desk. After all, it had been his personal quest for years! This was bound to be a good story.
The young man grinned widely. “It happened just last week, actually. I had him so powered down he couldn’t function, until today. Sorry for the delay.”
The blond went on, uncrossing his legs, tugged on the leash a moment, getting his captive to look towards him... relishing the despair, the hopeful look for release from the anguished eyes that reached from the bound hero into his. He pursed his lips towards his captive, teasing him. “Gotta keep that cock up, baby. Just waiting for me, right?” His hand dropped to his crotch, indicating the joy being held there for the broken, captive stud. He saw the hero’s eyes momentarily brighten, then dim, as he also took in a sharp, uncomfortable breath.
“Please,” SuperiorMan murmured, begging softly.“Don’t! Let me go. You don’t have to all the money you want, I can get you. Only you can save me, restore me. Don’t do this!”
He was whipped, defeated. Nearly paralyzed by his still throbbing erection, and the dark overwhelming knowledge his superior strength was gone, as long as this man held him... his own powerful body too useless to come to his defense. Unable to do a single thing about it, his brain nearly vacuumed into oblivion with the truth: his sexual, personal ruination. The weakness that had ensnared him.
As Doctor Tentacle listened voraciously, he was swept up with the new and exciting possibilities that had suddenly opened up to him. The capture of the most magnificent being on the planet, who could neither harm, hinder, nor thwart him anymore. The world itself would soon be his to rule....
And when the young man spoke, SuperiorMan recalled it all. Relived it over and over: how he had been captured, restructured, engulfed by his failure to be who he was, could never be again. How it had happened. His eyes watering; and the words rekindling, resealing the flaw of his alien sexuality.
* * * * *
Late, Seven Harrowing Nights Ago
SuperiorMan was flying easily through the air over the tall buildings of Manhattan. It had been a typical night of fighting petty thieves and stopping crimes. The hero hovered briefly in the air, running his fingers through his wavy black hair, scanning the city below for any evil in progress. His red and blue skin-tight, nylo-spandex uniform clung neatly against his wondrously muscled body. His costume was a symbol of hope and strength for the good people of New York; and he went out every night patrolling the streets to help keep them safe. His senses picked up a heated skirmish happening a few blocks away, and with a streak of red, yellow, and blue, he hastened off to save the day.
Landing softly in the back of the alley, SuperiorMan saw that a group of thugs were in the process of mugging a handsome young man. The young man seemed to be tousling with one of the robbers, locked in a rough, struggling combat. The hero straightened himself, and moved stealthily forwards. Then closer, halting, going into his most famous, heroic pose, his hands firmly resting on his hips, he called out: “You need to stop NOW, and go about some other business! Or to jail!” His voice rang with authority, and potent warning.
The gang robbers turned and cursed ,seeing it was no less than New York’s most famous protector and hero. There was a brief second SuperiorMan thought they might actually be foolish enough to try and fight him,. A short pause, then they all turned tail and ran as fast as their legs could carry them. He was being easy on them, giving them a chance to straighten out not go to prison.
“Thank you, thank you,” the rescued man rushed over, and suddenly lunged into him with a grateful hug. The young man clung to him for a few moments, holding onto him, pressing into his solid and powerful physique, obviously grateful for the rescue. He was shaking with relief and in subsiding shock. He blurted out, they had pulled a gun and threatened to shoot if he didn’t hand over his wallet, and his prized Rolex watch. That, he could not surrender.! There had been a struggle to keep it. Though they had left him with a wallet empty of his paycheck cash. Still, he had feared for his life, three against one. It was only pure luck SuperiorMan had been nearby.
“You’re a God-send,” the young blond said. His face was still marked with concern, a few dark smudges on his cheek.
Smiling, SuperiorMan patted him on the shoulder, trying to disengage himself, and let him know that everything would be alright. The young man was slight and thin, compared to his own great nearly 290 lb. mass, but the hardness of his young body pressing tight against him suggested a well-developed muscularity, as well as a fine, possibly very beautiful symmetry which he might possess. The young man looked up at him, and the hero found himself looking into a pair of stunningly beautiful blue eyes, that almost pierced him through into his groin. Startled, he had to catch his breath, and break it off. Not what he’d expected.
The young fellow’s blond hair was slightly disheveled, his face like an ad from GQ, but on the more masculine side. “Thanks again, for saving me!” letting his hands sink into the hard richness of SuperiorMan’s incomparable arms. The both of them feeling the heightened contact. The blond’s eyes held him. Each of them, appreciating the beauty of the other. And locked into it.
The super hero felt a strange twinge. He had to let it go, not think. SuperiorMan grinned back, disarmingly. He was used to the gratitude from people he had saved, but looking into those absorbing blue eyes, he felt a ripple shiver through his body. Stepping back, the hero smiled easily. “Be safe,” he said heroically, a slight bend to his knees, beginning to thrust himself upward, slowly float into the air.
He wanted to be quick in his retreat. Some danger brewing, here? The young man had triggered something within he didn’t wish to deal with, confront, he had better
“Wait! Please! The young man cried out, stopping him in mid-rise. “Would you, could you do you think you could take me home? It’s only a block or two. I’m really shook, and I need some medication fast. I have a dangerously crazy heart rate. I might not be able to make it on my own.”
The hero looked down at the young man trying to decide if he should honor the request. It seemed legitimate enough. Not something he normally did, regardless. And he was very wary of close physical contact. All his life, he’d always distanced himself from others. It was his nemesis, and his salvation. He couldn’t allow certain things to happen.
* * *
(Once before, he had rescued a construction worker at a dam, in the upper part of the state. A scaffolding had broken, and the man was desperately clinging to the rig, before it might well be pitched 200 feet down to a rocky death, no way of rescue. He had called on his cellphone for fire rescue, but that might be way too late till they could get there. Miraculously, SuperiorMan had heard of his plight and hastened to the rescue. SuperiorMan’s arms solid around him, he had grasped the man, and carried him to a safer spot... feeling yes, the man was indeed a massive bodybuilder, the power of his hard physique nearly overwhelming him. SuperiorMan got a little groggy with the feel of his body against him so closely. And when they had landed, the man had continued to hold him in an impossible bear-hug, breathing out, “My God, what a body! Let’s have a little man to man, hey guy?” SuperiorMan was stunned, tried to pull back.“Come on, it’s natural men built like us.” The hero had to take a sharp breath, broke free of the man’s grasp, instinctively. For him, it could be fatal. With a sad look, he’d pulled back... and sped away. An impossible stirring within how the man’s warmth had pressed hard in against his nipples, their pecs melding.
But the more he flew, he could not help but remember the feel of the man’s huge, muscular body in his arms. His own body unnervingly began to tingle. He found himself breathing raggedly, his cock began to stiffen; he ached, he yearned... he almost fell from the sky. He had to take a swift dive into a nearby lake to snap back into his senses.
If he ever allowed himself no, he would not think!! Every sexual thought had to be dismissed, in whatever way possible. He could not allow it! Because once begun, it would get into his semen-stoked brain, threatening his whole existence, disabling him from using his strength, his mind overwhelmed with the need for Superior-release, and nothing else: consuming him, all his strength, his focus, his reason. With only the desire to come and come and come. Which if he did... would paralyze him for days and days, after. Drain him to extinction. Maybe once in a while, it would be okay. But regularly, no way. He had to be careful.
Simple: his semen was his strength. Had to be retained. And if released... only in a dream, a nighttime occurrence, most usually. He could not even allow to pleasure himself, any longer. It took too much out of him. He’d no longer be a super hero .)
* * *
He brought his mind back into focus. No, this kid was not some huge bodybuilder. (Though, nice...!) He scanned the area with his super-sensory powers; no other crimes at the moment needed his attention. He nodded, and floated back to the ground. He smiled, opened his arms. The young man eagerly pressed up close to him, and holding tightly onto the man he’d just saved, they took off into the air. The heat of the young man’s body felt firm against his own rippled physique. Comforting. Then, unexpectedly, that special tingling he’d felt before ran through his body. For a staggering moment, he thought he was going to lose his balance in the air.
The blond, still somewhat quivering against him, gave him directions to his apartment. As they flew to the rooftop of the young man’s apartment, SuperiorMan began to feel a tad lightheaded. A strangeness for his super body. He felt a wave of relief when they finally landed on the roof of the building. He was feeling a little intoxicated, realizing his groin was flushed, his penis had slightly stirred. Aware suddenly, his big nipples, too, had begun to harden and throb. A trace of panic drifted through him. He still had to fly
SuperiorMan was on the verge of speeding away, but the young man grabbed for his hand suddenly, and pulled him in close. “Is there nothing I can do to repay you for your help?”
It was the way he said it, those wondrous blue eyes, the heat of his breath. SuperiorMan felt suddenly weak, sensing danger. The invitation was the most outrageously enticing thing he’d ever heard or felt. He had to leave, and leave now!
But he hesitated just a moment too long, and the hero gasped as his hand was taken, pressed in against the crotch of the young blond... whose other hand had clasped over the rising fullness of his own. Thunderstruck, the super hero could only go, “Oouaaaahhh!” His whole system froze.
How dare he how dare this kid even think to do such a thing!! No one in all his life had ever made the slightest attempt: so brash, so bold! In total shock, he stood motionless. This was definitely inappropriate even under the most outrageous of circumstances! But the heat of their surging genitals within both their hands pushed into, and through him, stirring SuperiorMan into a semi-paralysis. The kid was also obviously more than well-hung. And hungry. The lightheaded feeling returned, and the hero flushed a furious crimson. He could hardly breathe. He literally could not move/help himself, being compromised into allowing the continued pressure on the glory of the younger’s endowment, who was also pressuring his. Imminent warning signs blasted through his brain. Stop, now!!!
He swallowed, shyly. Fiercely. More than alarmed.
“I... I don’t need a reward for...being a hero,” he mustered up, more confidence in his voice than he felt, as he tried to remove his hand. He was so dizzy he could hardly stand. And he knew the youth knew it.
Taking his time, the boy just smiled. “I thought so. I was right.”
“Right...?” SuperiorMan echoed, like a hollow toy.
The young man then released him, and boldly flicked lightly with the back of his fingernails, up across and against the raging hardness of the hero’s big nipples; they were still standing nearly chest to chest. SuperiorMan gasped audibly. “Uunnnunnhhhhh. N-no, no...!” Stricken. No one had ever !
The blond smiled confidently as he ran his hands across SuperiorMan’s chest, firmly, deeply into, savoring his mighty pecs, now pliable in his hands. The super hero was staggered with unbelief. Pure panic rose within him. His brain . He was being consumed! Failing: his sexual arousal overcoming him, falling prey to his own alien system from within. He was desperately trying to get a grip on his senses. This was going way too far. He had to go!! Or he wouldn’t
“I’m sure we know some way to repay you, don’t we, big guy?” The young man was too close, staring him down. The hero’s insides were beginning to unravel. The boy told him, “I know.... Figured it out a long time ago. What you need .”
“No....” A desperate, soft plea.
SuperiorMan knew his last chance had come, he must fly away! But the young man’s hand was once again firm, latched deeply into his swollen crotch. The boy was incredibly intoxicating, attractive he remembered unwillingly, the largeness of him he’d felt in his hands.... and it felt so good being touched, wanted this way. His brain was ragging away from him. Reality was hazing. “I’m sorry. I have to... should
must go.” His words hardly coherent.
With the waning vestiges of his strength, he valiantly turned to try to lift himself into the air. SuperiorMan gasped and stumbled the young man had grabbed his cape, grounding him. Stunned, he lunged forward in his fall, and felt a sharp slap on his costumed buttocks. It startled him. How dare this young man...! He was a super hero, a man among men! This kid ! He couldn’t have!! Pulled him down ...?
“It’s really rude to leave before I can properly thank you!” the young man said sharply.
He was suddenly stronger, more strident. Commanding. Before the hero could react, the youth knelt down where he lay, grasped him roughly by his head, and kissed him passionately.
SuperiorMan tried to pull free, escape the grasp, but the tingling in his whole system had turned into an impossible, disarming foil, waves of “something” swept through....had spread across, and deep into his body... paralyzing him. His knees were weak, all of him! A floodgate was starting to open. For the first time in ages, SuperiorMan was feeling his cock rising to full mast. It threatened to break through his clothing. He had to adjust himself, the rise of it, burgeoning many inches higher than his navel. For indeed, he was well-endowed, and always tried to hide it. Lest others were to come onto him, taken advantage of his alien weakness.
The hero barely managed to break free from the kiss, breath almost failing, and stared down at his massive erection threatening all of his sanity. He was being rendered helpless. In terror, now, being at the whim of another. He felt both a surging warmth, and an inexplicable relaxedness course throughout his body, unlike anything he’d ever felt before somehow strengthening him, and yet sapping that very same strength away into nothingness. SuperiorMan knew he had to get away before his powers totally deserted him. This could be fatal. If anyone ever
The young man was all over him, keeping him down.
The young man smiled slyly, and reaching down started to re-fondle the hero’s genitals under his clothes. Rubbing, stroking. “It looks like our mighty SuperiorMan wants to be paid... for services rendered?” he teased. He breathed heavily, tight against him, the hero’s cock tremoring: an uncontrollable oak in his one hand, as he deftly massaged into his larger than golf ball sized testicles within the confines of his briefs with the other.
The super hero was heated beyond redemption. Totally consumed with his need to come, to come, to come... to be taken. He looked skyward, desperately.
SuperiorMan moaned as he felt his powers draining from his body. His carefully guarded secret was now exposed. He had paid little mind to the endless women sent by Doctor Tentacle trying to stupidly weaken his powers, because he was not attracted to them! The hero, instead, had had a strong attraction to other built, or handsome men, but had always managed to suppress it in order to maintain his control. Now, all the years of suppression had been exploded loose by the skillful manipulations of this one young man. His heart was pounding more than loud enough to be heard, he was sure, trying to breathe more calmly. Focus. But his surging nipples ached fiercely, with insane, sudden piercings, reaching deep inside his groin with every beat of his heart.
The sudden yearning within him, “to be taken,” staggered him. No. Oh, no!!
He was mesmerized. His nipples, now swollen acorns, half the size of most men’s thumbs no
!! Oh, God, no!! The blond’s mouth was now savoring over them, teasing, chewing into them through the tight fabric stretched across his bursting pecs. This can’t be! The kid was taking him down! His mouth slacked open, his eyes rolled upwards. The blond was playing him like a well-used instrument, perfected by years of practice. He was literally gasping for breath, control. He knew he was losing. His mind, no longer his. His brain, fried.
“Please, d-don’t !” He begged futilely, trying to keep the younger’s insistent hands from rubbing over his massive cock, push the eager mouth away from his bursting nipples, already beginning to cream. But his own large hands were too easily moved away and restrained, as his body was being played, manipulated into full containment.
The youth whispered in his ear, relishing his control. “You’re starting to look a little weak, worn out, SuperiorMan. We need to go to my apartment, so you can relax.”
“N-n-no! No, I c-can’t .” The hero shook his head, used all the last of his might to push the young man away from him. He barely succeeded. He knew if the younger man got him into his apartment, he would not be able to escape, no matter what might happen. He was woozy, dizzy. In a mindless haze, he struggled to get to his feet on wobbly legs. Staggered a moment.
“Must must ... go...! Now! ” He made a desperate, but weak leap, tried once more to thrust away for his escape, to flee, to fly... but fell heavily to the ground, instead. Flat on his face. He was now thoroughly frightened, realizing his powers had waned away. The raging hardness of his own cock had betrayed him, already oozing his precious juices from him. The surging sexual stimuli within his brain, irrevocably at work, overpowering his senses, his control of them. His self. He was lost.
“Wow!” the young blond sighed. “The all-powerful mighty man, mighty no more.” He stood up. The kid knew then he was totally subdued.
The young man smirked down at him as he struggled, trying to regain his feet. “Not so tough now, are we?” He then crudely grabbed the fallen hero by his hair, yanking his head up to look at him. “It’s time, big boy. Little hero. You belong to me, now. All mine. Forever .”
The look on SuperiorMan’s face was priceless... blank, yet terrified helpless. The younger man’s words had chilled him to the bone. His eyes widened, fearfully.
“Just as I thought,” the youth mocked, “so bold and prized. But once primed, and ready so easy for the taking.”
SuperiorMan again sought to break free from the hand gripping his hair, but was stricken to his core. In surprise, he found the sight of the commanding young man standing over him to be sending odd waves of pleasure throughout his body, weakening him further. His cock was so painfully rock hard, pressured still within the confines of his uniform. He ached to be free.... Years of sexual repression had now worked against him, his own body out of control, robbing him of his powers. Overcome by his long aching needs, he was enslaved by his own anguish for release, fulfillment. Want
having been too terrified to acknowledge it, never allowing it to surface... never before known, expressed. Strangled. Now fully captured by it. Unable to resist, a ten year old could have beaten him. All defenses gone. Owned by the desires of another... and oddly, even by his own. To be mastered.
The hero was forced to his feet, and one of his mighty arms (nearly large as the youth’s thighs) was easily twisted behind his back. How could this be? He was the strongest man on the planet!! No, no, no !! He had no choice but to be herded down the stairs to the young man’s apartment like a weakling. The feeling of pure helplessness the hero felt... had inexplicably merged with a sudden new kind of euphoria he was experiencing at being so dominated! For a moment, he thought he might come regaining some control, he quelled it.
Inside the apartment, scented candles had been lit and soft music was playing. SuperiorMan was pushed inside and he stumbled forward as his captor closed and locked the door. Looking around at the romantic setting, the hero realized that the young man had been planning this from the start how long? His breath quickened. Almost shocked. Had the street thugs been paid accomplices? He had been deceived... for capture! And knew it. His nostrils flared.
It had been a set-up all along! How could he have fallen for it? The handsome youth, so endearing, so much needing his help. And now? He was the one in desperate need of help, himself. Oh, God, no who could? Who even knew he was here?
The young man smiled as he approached the helpless hero. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this!” The hero’s arms were free, nothing bound him. But he was not free.
SuperiorMan held his hands up in protest as he backed away. He knew he was too weak to stop his captor from having his way with him. The younger man grabbed his wrists, his arms and pushed him onto the couch. Laying down on top of the hero, he began to kiss him mercilessly.
At first SuperiorMan tried to resist, but the mind-blotting pleasure from being kissed, roughly and then more passionately, grew to the point where he willingly began to kiss back. His mouth, his tongue, could not take, give enough. Receive. Their kissing seemed to last for an eternity, and when his captor finally broke it off, the hero was panting for breath, secretly wishing for more. His blood raced. His mind was too far hazed beyond his senses. Stirred too deeply. He was urgent to burst. To come, at all costs.
The young man squeezed the hero’s rich, surging cock and stroked it through his uniform a few taunting times, just to make sure he stayed nice and paralyzingly hard, continuously keeping the hero’s powers drained, his juices on the verge of erupting. He maintained his position of dominance atop of him on the couch. Then, he winked, and with a wicked sort of smile, he climbed off... and walked over to the coffee table. Picking up a large dog collar, he walked back slowly to the apprehensive SuperiorMan a lance of doom thrust into him. He trembled.
The hero’s eyes widened in knowing fear, and he valiantly raised a hand in protest. “Please, not this! Not that!” he begged. It was one thing to make out and have sex with a good looking other man, but to wear a dog collar and be treated like an animal was completely different. This could not be happening! He was the strong one. No one could tell him what to do have their way with him. Could they...?
The young man’s eyes narrowed at the futile resistance of the legendary hero. “I will ask you once nicely to put on the collar, SuperiorMan.”
The hero recoiled more strongly than expected, rousing the last reserves of his energy, yet was suddenly alarmed at the look of anger in his captor’s eyes. Part of him wanted to simply follow his captor’s orders, get this over with as soon as possible but his pride as a super hero and a man just would not allow himself to be treated this way. “I’m not your dog!” he said with as much defiance as he could muster, trying to rise from the soft confines of the couch, his hardness above his crotch seeming to thrust more forwardly outward.
But the young man threw down the collar, and grabbed SuperiorMan by his hair. He pulled the hapless, startled super hero off the couch and sat down with his hand still firmly wrapped around the hero’s black locks. Forcing his captive over his knees, he placed one firm hand on the small of his back to keep him in place. What the hell ?
SuperiorMan fought with all his nonexistent strength, but failed to stop from being put over the youth’s knees like a little boy in trouble. His hard cock pressed against the young man’s legs putting pleasurable pressure on his erection, causing the hero to somehow weaken even more.
“Let me know when you are willing to put on the collar, boy!” The young man said harshly, and he brought his hand down hard and firm on the hero’s well-rounded buttocks.
SuperiorMan barely cried out as the first blow struck his ass. He had never been spanked never, in any way! And the impossible humiliation of the most powerful man in the universe being man-handled, punished like a simple child... sent chills of startling terror, and a strange vast pleasure shooting throughout his entire body and mind. Again and again, his perfect ass was struck, his mewling cries grew louder and louder, much to his own surprise.
Tiring rapidly, the young man, however, had to switch tactics. His hand had begun to ache terribly. Anticipating such, he had already placed a small, smooth paddle nearby. It was this he used to continue. And the assault was even worse.
After about forty, fifty hits, SuperiorMan felt the final sting of ultimate humiliation... he started to cry and sob like a little boy. “Stop, please; please, stop!” His glutes were a raging fire, and the mighty erection in his tights had grown even harder. Crying out, the hero began to realize he had felt impossibly thrilled at being strong-armed like this. How could he? It was a hard realization to swallow his psyche, his body, had derived incredible pleasure from this simple domination. How could this have happened? His great strength relinquished so easily?
The spanking continued, his flesh began to hurt so much that the hero began to feel numb. Finally unable to bear another strike, he cried out for his captor to cease. “No more, no more! Please!!”
“Will you wear the collar, stud-boy?” The young man asked harshly.
Gasping for air through his tears, and mucous clogged throat, SuperiorMan nodded furiously. “Yes ...yes!! I’ll wear the collar. Please don’t spank me anymore!”
The young man pushed him off his lap and onto the floor, and sat watching as the hero curled himself into a protective ball of defeat. The youth allowed him a brief reprieve, before he kicked at him with his feet. SuperiorMan finally uncurled, and flung out his arms and legs broadly, almost a sign of total surrender... still sobbing uncontrollably. He was mind-shot, worn to the core of his psyche. Defenseless. His crotch and front were completely soaked with the overflow of his super precum. It was an incredibly large blot, the fabric of his costume clung to him, had become nearly translucent, showing every vein of his throbbing, thick cock, reaching nearly to his sternum. No less a marvel to behold. As well... the surrendered splay of his magnificent body.
SuperiorMan lay powerless, sprawled on the floor, his breathing wracked, unable to gather the strength to rise. His gluteals felt like they were still aflame, and the combination of pain and pleasure sent his senses reeling. A part of him, his manliness, wanted to curl away and die, but the other part of him had staggeringly accepted, even enjoyed the roughness of being spanked. This hidden side of him scared the hero more than anything he’d ever faced. This could not be! If word of any such weakness ever got out, every small-time crook anywhere would be able to defeat him quite easily. Or destroy him with shame at the very mention of it. He would never be a man among men as before; but an easily manipulated cock-hound, willing to bend over and be abused by anyone having balls enough to grasp him by his balls. He’d be putty in their hands. His career would be finished, and the world would be at the mercy of villains like Doctor Tentacle. He knew he had to convince his young captor to keep his dark secret. “Please, help me,” he pleaded. Knowing his doom was sealed.
“Come on. Up! ”
The handsome young lad was owning him, owned him. And they both knew it.
Peering through his tears, SuperiorMan saw that his captor’s patience was running thin. He moaned with his soreness, forced himself to his hands and knees, and slowly picked up the collar. If he did this, he was lost. He hesitated. He didn’t have to do this! Why was he? Weakly, he slipped it around his thick neck . The mighty hero felt a part of himself crumble and die as he surrendered... helplessly, willingly, submitting to the young man, who had seduced, aroused, and weakened him, by his own hormonal surging man-source within him that which had overpoweringly cried for release, fulfillment. Knowing he could have easily snapped the youth in half, other-wise. Gingerly sitting back down on his haunches, he bowed his head in submission. He had been conquered.
The young man ran his fingers through the hero’s dark locks. “That’s a good boy.” he said, soothingly, patting him like a favored dog who had just followed his master’s command. He finished fastening the final symbol of SuperiorMan’s conquest into place; the hero’s bewildered tears still trickling down his handsome face. The blond then coolly took a leash from the end table and attached it to the collar. “Now come along,” he commanded as he led the hero from the living room into the back of the apartment.
SuperiorMan crawled as fast as he could on his hands and knees. Every movement caused the embered pain in his ass to reignite. His cock, still trapped in the confines of his tight suit pressed firm against his ridged abdominals, wet with the steady flow of his river-ing precum. His face was moist and sticky from the assault of tears and snot from being spanked his humiliation, still strangely exciting him. The knot in his perineum was hard, just under his balls, continuously firing, stirring up masses of something to be triggered from within.
The hero was led down a carpeted hall to a secure bedroom, where he gazed on in startled disbelief. The room looked like something a dungeon-meister might have constructed, though not terribly complex nor complete. Against one wall was a bed with long posts at each end. Each post had leather straps attached to them leading down onto the bed itself. On the other side of the room was a X-cross that had leather straps at each end. Along one of the walls hung an assortment of whips and paddles, chains and truncheons arranged by length and size. Superior Man felt chills run down his spine at the sight of the room tailored for such mutual bondage. The lights were turned off, but two dozen candles sat on all the surfaces roundabout, giving the room a soft glow in mirrored light.
“Like it?” the young man smirked. “Had it done especially for guys like you.” SuperiorMan was now more than startled. What?!!
“Cost a pretty penny. But, beans compared to what I’ll be getting later.” He savored letting his words soak into the hero’s shocked senses. “Sound-proof, too....”
The young man jerked on the leash. “On your feet, muscle- fuck” he commanded harshly.
SuperiorMan’s mind reeled, wondered if he could yet put up a fight, but the searing pain on his ass convinced him to play along. His inner psychological balance was blasted so far askew, he wondered almost who he was anymore. His identity had been shaken, taken from him. He had already allowed his weakness to go too far. It was unlikely his captor could keep him forever. Surely, not here!! But, if the more he cooperated, the more likely he might be able to convince him to keep his dark secret... perhaps, eventually let him go? Struggling to his feet, the once proud hero was a shattered, complete mess. He stood with his head bowed, painfully aware of the still prominent hard-on in his tights. Was this what “sex” was truly all about? For him, what it should be? Not what he’d ever expected. Warmth, holding, caressing...?
“Take off your costume, slave. We don’t want it ruined any further with tonight’s festivities.”
SuperiorMan paled at the thought of being completely naked in front of his captor. His costume was his last link to the power he had once commanded. Without it, he would be truly stripped of all he was... just a helpless, hugely muscled, but pretty-boy weakling. As he brought his hands to the sun-yellow belt that clung snugly on his tapered waist, SuperiorMan knew that this was the point of no return. Once he started to take off his costume, he would truly be a prisoner... his cock and body and person owned, primed for some sort of a sexual nightmare? There had to be a way of escape. There had to be! And yet he wanted, yearned for what might come next. He needed release so badly. Knowing it would also further weaken him. Destroy ?
The young man unsnapped his leash, and removed his cape with a flourish, tossing it heavily aside to the floor. SuperiorMan swallowed dryly, his eyes following the symbol of his flight, his escape, his power, destroyed.
With a resigned sigh, he fully unclasped his belt, letting it drop to the floor with a strong clunk. As each piece of his costume was taken off and discarded, revealing more and more of the exposed chiseled might of his super hero’s body... the more of a thrill SuperiorMan felt. After his boots and tights were finally pulled off his legs and given up, the hero faced his captor completely naked and erect-hard. His thickly risen, fully cut cock, eagerly betraying him... pointed at the young man: a magnificent 12 inches of male flesh, eight thick inches around, and never touched by anyone, (except his own hands, his own mouth, his own lips, forever having guarded the secret of his sexuality, keeping it in check, hidden from the world)... now fully exposed and vulnerable relinquished to a new owner, a new master. He was excited beyond measure and terribly afraid, all at the same time.
The young man slowly circled his prey, eyeing every part of the hero’s exposed body. “Very, very nice!” he said as he appraised his newest, most incredible conquest. “I’m going to enjoy this! And no less than hung, as a Superior Man should be! With balls the size of plums; really great! You must carry quite a load there. Which indeed, we shall relieve you of right?”
SuperiorMan felt a jolt of pleasure as the young man grabbed his erect cock, again savoring the heft of his testicles, then using his shaft as a handle he led the hero to the bed and instructed him to lay on his back. The thick bedspread felt soft and cool to his burning ass. Obediently laying onto the bed, the hero watched as the young man went around and attached a leather restraint to each of his wrists and ankles. He softly tugged on the restraints hoping that his powers had returned, but they held firm, keeping him helplessly placed on the bed. With his cock raging hard, no chance his resistant strength would soon return. His own cock and arousal were truly keeping his core-self and might powerless. Because... he really didn’t want to be free. He wanted to be taken, plundered, raped, loved enjoyed.
His captor climbed onto the bed, and eagerly, softly stroked the hero’s mighty cock. “Very, very impressive a man beyond men!” he marveled. The young man ran his deft fingers up and down, along and over, the great erection that had robbed him of his superior powers. (Though perhaps had he used it more often, indulged himself more judiciously, he might never have fallen easy prey to such a predator, as determined and endearing as this one, now controlling him?) The young blond’s words confirmed his very thoughts. Both reassuring, and terribly alarming.
“It’s a shame you didn’t use this weapon more often. I know plenty of guys who would’ve jumped at the chance to worship this monster. Instead, you kept it all for yourself. Fatal, actually. No wonder you’re so weak. A lifetime of hunger overwhelming you. And now me, hardly half your size, all-over. And now, it really is all over. For you.... Tragic.”
The conquered hero felt a new notch of terror. What could the boy mean? Surely, he couldn’t be kept here forever! (Fucked to death...? Castrated? Good God, nooooo !!!! Drained of every ounce of his male-strength, his super cum? Impossible! No one could do that, could they? Could they?) His guts churned anew with a different horror, a sudden, true fear, deeper than before.
SuperiorMan clenched his teeth, closed his eyes, drenched in fear, and the realization of his pending total disarmament. Being disarmed further, as the youth leaned in, continued... the glorious, impossible, wondrous pleasure of another hand stroking him. It had been forever since he had allowed the simplicity of taking his own self, knowing every time he’d done so, he’d become crazily weakened for hours, could not retain his strength, became helpless... until after hours and hours of restoration later. Now this, the incredible assault of forbidden pleasure, over-ruling all his senses, feeling sharply tonight all the intensity of what had seemed liked years, a lifetime, of foolish, yet well-guarded neglect... risen up, suddenly imprisoning him: his own semen.
Perhaps had he indulged more, he would not have become so easily weakened? Would have built up a resistance through practice? In actuality, re-strengthening himself? A flaw now, he realized. He had unwittingly contributed to his own destruction. If that’s what it was to be? A sudden assault again on his nipples quickened him out of his reverie, torqueing in him a rising rage to burst, to come. If the boy didn’t stop....
The hero jerked his eyes open as he felt a stealthy hand easing over his hurting ass... and shockingly probe further, and into his cleft. He looked down and saw his captor pressing in toward his never touched, sacred man-hole. Gasping, he felt the intrusion into his anus... a violation, triggering a different, new kind of pleasure. No one had ever touched him there before (or anywhere, really). His cock lurched boldly upright with jarred excitement, being handled this way. He began to moan, unconsciously. He was now under complete ownership by another.
‘Damn, you are tight in there!” The young man crooned. “Looks like I do get to pop that manly cherry. Really make you my girl!”
SuperiorMan groaned as he pictured himself being fucked by his captor. He knew he should try with all the fiber of his being to resist, escape, he was still massively strong, wasn’t he why wouldn’t his brain activate his musculature, why!!?? He moaned, ached to resist, to fight back, but the darker, more hungered part of his being to be fucked like a woman, by one strong enough to have mastered him, taken him down... took over. With a heavy sigh, he felt a pale pang of regret when the young man’s fingers withdrew from his ass, and he got off the bed.
The young man went to a dresser and came back holding a blindfold. SuperiorMan stared at it, more than apprehensive. “N-no, don’t blindfold me.” He protested, meekly. “No, please! Don’t...” his whimpering went unheeded.
Climbing back on the bed, his captor bent down and kissed him raucously on the lips. Superior- Man, completely bound, wrists and ankles, stared back at the handsome man as the blindfold was placed on his head covering his eyes. “Why, why?” he pleaded, tossing his head uselessly.
Blinded by his darkness, he slowly licked his lips not knowing what was going to come next. This newer unknown made him feel even more helpless, more powerless, and it was that vague, strangely blinding helplessness that tremored a new wave of quivering throughout him.
SuperiorMan seemed to wait for an eternity... tied quietly, yet voluntarily helpless, his eyes completely covered. He strained to hear any movement from his captor, but the silence seemed to mock him. He gasped when he felt a light hand on his cock softly caressing, tugging it to maintain its powered hardness. The hero doubted that his cock would ever be able to soften until pleasured to full release. The astonishment he felt at being bound and helpless, unable to defend against, or stop his captor, kept his manhood hardened beyond comprehension.
As pleasure mounted in his body from the manipulation of his cock, SuperiorMan knew inherently, this would lead to his doom. This kind of pleasure was too much to ignore, and he wished it could go on forever. Slightly pulling on his restraints to heighten his intoxication, knowing he was truly helpless, and yet by his own will of having allowed it, (and yet not truly of his own will by the betrayal of his own body), and having come under bondage to another.... the hero moaned like an animal in heat. He was not a woman. He was a man, a mighty man, all man and yet so much of him ached to be violated, owned give of himself to another, be taken completely. Ravaged to his core.
The stroking suddenly stopped and SuperiorMan groaned with disappointment. He thrust his hips upwards, trying to connect with anything that could touch him. Time seemed to crawl as he yearned to be molested by his captor.
Then, SuperiorMan yelped out in pain as he felt something hot and wet drop down upon his left nipple. The pain seared his chest, and as it cooled, it merged with his nipple, hardening. His great teat seemed to swell even larger. His captor must be using candle wax he thought numbly. He cried out again as more wax dropped down on his other nipple, burning it for a few seconds before hardening. Both of his nipples, now, surging huge and hungry, ready to burst from his pecs. SuperiorMan kept gasping, not knowing what to expect as the wax dropped randomly onto his chest and abdominals causing a combination of pain and pleasure. Soon his chest felt as if encased in flexible wax and the warmth of it lingered, while his cock remained rock hard. He yearned to blast his juices like a rocket. Wanted his nipples to be pulled, sucked, twisted chewed. “My nipples,” he cried. “Oh, please take them, use them!” He was ignored.
The silence returned as SuperiorMan lay blindfolded and tied on his captor’s bed. He tested the strength of his bonds once again hoping that he’d regained enough strength to break free and end this nightmare. It was a half-hearted effort; though a strong male, the more feminine part of him wished this could go on and on, being pleasured with the pain of bondage and servitude. The silence was broken as he felt something pressing against his ass. The object seemed to tear him apart as the invading monster was shoved up into him. It was only a modest sized dildo, hardly seven inches. But SuperiorMan wailed aloud at this hard intrusion in his virginal chute. Once the object was rested deeply inside him, he slowly got used to it, the pain... began to love the rich fullness of it. Holding him further in bondage, enraptured.
“This is to open you up, before I break that ass!” his captor mused happily.
SuperiorMan turned red at the thought of being violated like this. His soul was divided between the euphoria of being humiliated and the feeling of degradement in being used as a “thing,” not a person. The magnificent man he was, to give pleasure to, be pleasured by... not some sex toy! But he did not have much time to think about it; suddenly this new thing, the object in his ass began to softly vibrate.
The pain that he had felt from the intrusion was slowly replaced by a growing pleasure. The object seemed to rest against the rapture centers of his prostate and the vibration sent him nearly over the edge with ecstatic jolts he didn’t know was possible. His rage-hard cock seemed to leap with joy in response to this violent pleasure, his entire body ached for orgasmic release. “Please, yes!! Please yes, yes, yes!”
And just as he got used to this latest level of pleasure, SuperiorMan cried out suddenly, as he felt something sharp and stinging cutting at his cock. The sound of a whip cracking against the most sensitive area of his body made him howl in pain. The hero frantically tried to tear free of his bonds once more, as more blows slashed into his body. The vibration in his ass did not stop, but joined together with the pain of being whipped lightly all over, to form a combination of wonder that SuperiorMan did not think was possible. Then, the whip was replaced with a soft, rubber truncheon. It slowly began to disarm the great muscular strength that was left in his trapezius, his arms, his pecs, his oak-like thighs, reducing him to a mass of quivering jelly, unable to use any of his muscles, even if he had wanted to .
Indeed, he rapidly lost his erection. His giant, flaccid cock, bereft and useless, hung slack.
He was more than in total shock. Not only was his superior strength being dismantled limb by line, muscle by muscle, tendon by tendon, being riven into nothing... but his sensory invulnerability to normal pain had diminished. He was now nearly as susceptible as anyone to such torture the spanking pain had been a certain surprise to his system, but this superseded anything he could ever have imagined a human person might be capable of feeling. He was genuinely staggered to the pit of his existence. Horrified, devastated.
This time, he screamed, truly. Even his balls were being hammered. His body was being pulverized without mercy. His manliness crushed from him. All the glory of his physique and power reduced to useless rubble. The pain, unbearable. He was defeated. Broken. Having once given up his will, he was now more than under the power of that loss. He could not, even if he wanted to, to save himself. He was completely mastered out of his control. He could not even think clearly. Could not believe what was happening. All of his great muscles shattered beyond redemption or use. The great sac of his male-source, an incredible throbbing, raging inferno.
Now, he was more than beyond terrified. His horror fully realized. He had voluntarily submitted himself to his own destruction. Yet, he was urgent still to blast his semen through the roof.
As his cries grew louder and louder, SuperiorMan cursed himself for having saved his tormentor from being mugged. His screams seemed to bounce off the walls in the room and back at him as he felt pain greater, deeper than he’d ever known. He, the invulnerable one! Owned, and being ravaged, destroyed. This was now far more than torment, greater than pleasure. He grew more and more panicked, desperately frightened. The young man was going to kill him...! He had surrendered his power to a weaker man, and was now more than unable to help himself. His great strength had trapped him from within himself, the power of his innate sexuality strangling his own might into utter helplessness, complete submission. Depleted, he was near death... He knew it. Only gentleness could rescue him.
As suddenly as the whipping started, it ended abruptly. SuperiorMan dry-heaved, his breath came in great sobs from having taken such a beating. The vibration within his cleft continued as he prayed that his nightmare would end. Oh, if he could only erect again come
! End this rising torture, and blow his failed, but latent strength outward find peace, release! Inside, he begged for mercy, escape. To be who he had always been, again. Mighty, invincible. Not a cringing puppy. He felt a hand petting his hair, stroking his face. The almost loving softness of his captor’s hand confused him. Could his tormentor have come to care for him, care to no longer hurt him? The hero could not stop himself from crying as his entire body felt like it had been dipped in cold acid, on fire to the bone. “Please, please... no more.” he whimpered futilely. “Make me cum, make me cum... make me... cum.”
SuperiorMan then felt something being put into his mouth, hard, unyielding, and realized that he was being ball-gagged. Thrashing to escape, he was again manhandled like a useless doll and soon was unable to speak. His body tensed as he felt the young man getting off the bed, and the silence returned.
The silence was short lived as the whipping started up again. Different parts of his body felt the pain of being assaulted that seemed to blend in with the pleasure of the vibrating sensation in his ass. SuperiorMan tried to scream, but the gag muffled any noise he tried to make. The hero could feel the wetness of his tears as he thrashed on the bed trying his hardest to avoid the stinging slash of the whip on his body. Why, why, why?!!
And then, it were as if the mattress had been removed, and his whole body were being turned. He knew it was so, when he felt the sudden sharp stinging lashes on his back and then, oh, God!! the truncheoning began again. His lats were being demolished, but he couldn’t scream. His ribs, all of them must be broken, or breaking. He sobbed, but could make no sound. He shook, he spasmed. It was unrelenting agony.
The beating seemed to go on for an eternity and not a single part of his body was spared the pain of the soft clubs, or the whip. His body was a mass of shredded flesh, and his throat hurt from his attempts to scream. His great cock had also been pulled on, thrashed, abused, weighted and jerked on so much, it seemed to be on the verge of tearing loose from his groin, so laden it was from being stretched to its max. And then horrifically, it had been coaxed back into raging hardness once more, as impossible things began to be inserted sharply, into, through, and against his nipples. He was going to die; the boy was going to tear them off. And he got harder and harder. The needle-like surgical towel clips, the youth had fastened into them, horror and joy: if he could have screamed, they would have heard him all the way through to up-town Manhattan!
At last, it stopped. SuperiorMan barely noticed the silence as his body convulsed and heaved from sobbing so hard. Turned right side up again, once more the mattress under him, he lay in a wad of incomparable mush of what must have been, used to be, his beautiful, muscular body now a complete raging torment, every nerve screaming and on razored edge. Those horrible towel clips still remaining fastened into his thumb-sized nipples....
The first contact that he felt was the gag being taken out of his mouth. His jaw hurt from biting down so hard on it during his beating. He was stupefied almost beyond comprehension.
“Tell me, son. What happens to your great powers if I let you cum?” his captor asked.
He couldn’t believe he was hearing what he had heard. He limply thrashed his head. Could not think to speak. Weren’t his powers already gone? Or he could never have allowed this.
“Tell me! And if I think you are lying, I can play you some more.” The command was insistent. “That was just a sample. To remind you who owns you.”
“No, no, no, no....” he whispered hoarsely.
“Maybe crush those big, useless balls.” A deep pause. “No more coming then, for sure. Since apparently, you don’t like to use them .”
The bound hero’s heart skipped several beats. The shock of what yet could happen .
“Mercy! No no!!” SuperiorMan cried out. The thought of more punishment, the fear of losing his testicles had finished him. He gabbled on.
“I... I only know, that my powers... will be curtailed for a certain amount of time. I don’t know how long... maybe days. If, I survive.... If you drain too much from me, I will die.” It was as simple as he could make it. The truth, horrifying in its reality. The young man was going to destroy him. He knew it.
He had revealed his secret.
Only he still begged desperately within himself to fountain his semen to the sky. Almost did, spontaneously, as the towel clips were tugged on lightly, then removed from his ever-swelling now larger nipples, that throbbed as if being devoured by hot irons, and bleeding raggedly.
The silence that followed scared SuperiorMan more than the beatings. Was his captor satisfied with his answer? He prayed that there would be no more pummeling. The hero did not think he could take any more pain. Even as an alien being, his strength had been taxed to its limits. His impossible musculature and physique, for which he had never had to go to a gym, to gain or maintain, had been a natural genetic wonderment to all, even to himself. Yet it was now gone, torn from him, by a much lesser being... and the fatality of his own inner frailties, murdering him.
He felt his captor climbing onto the bed and straddling atop his chest, feeling the fine, honed muscles of the young man’s naked thighs, slipped down along the sides of his throbbing rib cage, wondering what was in store for him next. SuperiorMan waited in anxious anticipation, baited dread. He felt something strange rub against his lips. Warm and thick, and blunt and soft, and rounded and wet. He knew what it was.
“Open up, boy. It’s time for repayment!” his captor said harshly.
SuperiorMan opened his mouth and felt the young man’s cock sliding past his lips. He felt strong fingers wrapping around the back of his head, through his black locks, forcing his head to bob up and down on the hard cock of his captor. The taste of his first cock thrilled him as his mouth was being fucked. He could taste the tangy sweetness of pre-cum trickling down his throat as he wrapped his lips around the big cock that had invaded his mouth. And the boy was huge, hardly able to get his mouth around him... and the shaft being sunk deeply into his throat, nearly strangling him. (No, not as huge as his own, but the youth’s nine and a half by six and a half inches was more than most men can handle.)
Still feeling the pain from the whipping and the pleasure of the continual vibration in his ass, SuperiorMan got used to having the hard cock pistoning into and out of his mouth. He felt like a whore being used... yet still, this subservience gave him a startling pleasure he’d never known. Sucking a true cock at last, something he’d dreamed of... being deep-throated by his conqueror.
When the cock was withdrawn from his mouth, the hero felt a pang of disappointment. He wanted to suck and suck on his captor’s cock more and more. He hoped that before he was set free, he would be able to suck the boy’s cock again, wanted to take the youth’s strong juices into him. Then, SuperiorMan felt hands on his ass again as the vibrations stopped and the object was taken out of him. With the main source of his pleasure taken away, the pain his body had been subjected to nearly overwhelmed him. The balance between the pain and pleasure had shifted; there was only the total agony of the pain. He had no idea how he could endure it. He needed a soothing drug, something not even his own indestructible nature could counter-balance .
Then his ankles were untied. His feet raised, his thighs, and then they were bound again, over his head... ankles to wrists. He was being trussed like an animal, ready for slaughter. He was again frightened, what was the kid going to do? Castrate him, sever his balls? NO, NO, NO!!! OH, NO!!!!!!
But it did not last long, his fear subsided... because he felt something suddenly very bold and warm, and long and hard, being thrust up and into his ass. This startling invasion made the former vibrating object seem quite small, this newer pain being introduced into his body. He couldn’t help but know what it was. It was the crowning glory of his captor, his young adult cock ravaging into him. SuperiorMan cried out as he felt his captor’s hips slapping against his ass, the youth’s testicles amazing heavy, slapping at his cheeks. It was more, better than he had ever hoped or dreamed. He gasped in willing surrender, wanting more, more. Oh, wonder, wonder!!!
And so it was... in a matter of hours, the most powerful man in the universe, had gone from a mighty, invincible super hero, to being a simple sex toy, stripped of his great powers and used for the sole pleasure of his captor... a younger man, 10 years less than he, weighing a good 120 lbs. lighter woefully unskilled in the arts of war or combat and with a cock not nearly as mighty as his own, but giving him the greatest fuck of his manly life. Enraptured, and enslaved out of his mind. He would never be the same.
The constant pounding against his prostate, the filling of his virgin hero’s chute to the max of fullness he could never have imagined, sent new, impossible waves of ecstasy throughout SuperiorMan’s entire body. His groans of pain transformed to moans of pleasure from being fucked by the young man who had captured him. The joy he had felt before paled, compared to being helplessly fucked by a single, determined male he could have taken down with a flick of his finger. This ultimate surrender brought the ultimate pleasure of being used with and against his will, sexually. His brain was smoked to a crisp. All he wanted was more of this youth, and to be royally fucked. Brainless.
SuperiorMan’s moans of pleasure filled the room as he started trying to grind his ass against the pumping of his captor’s hips. There was no denying that the hero absolutely loved being fucked. He tried to break his bonds, not to escape, but to be able to enfold, touch his body, as ecstasy filled his entire mind and soul. His hands yearned to stroke, hold, caress the boy’s body close to him in a searing embrace, letting him know how deeply, joyously he had been ravaged. Was he in his right mind? This boy was his nemesis, his fatal attraction. His annihilator ! No, No!!
The moans of his topping-captor grew louder and the thrusting quickened as the super hero was used more fiercely, forcefully. SuperiorMan then knew a staggering, thrilling shock when he felt the boy’s mouth on his cock-glans, and his hand also grasping onto as much around his shaft as he could. Good God, he was being sucked, and jacked, and fucked all at the same time. He knew he was going to die when he came. The young man was jerking him off in cadence with fucking his ass, and his mouth hungrily encasing his burgeoning glans. The triple pleasure of his cock being so manipulated, sucked, joined in with the pleasure of being fucked... sent SuperiorMan straight to heaven. He felt a building crescendo in his balls, as they began to withdraw, ready to unload, that caused him to scream in/by their already ruptured, painful pleasure. The building kept going and going, until it reached its peak, that led to the eruption of his massive cock. The hero felt his cum not only being rapidly taken by the mouth of his master, but the erupting power of it so great, it could not be contained by the swallower, and jettisoned out further, in great blots and globs, up across his chest and his belly, his loins pumping and pumping, his semen spurting from an uncontrolled, sporadic hydrant. His eyes rolling back into his head, nearly fainting.
While in the same near seconds later, in the height of his spurting, in the richness of orgasming, he heard his captor cry out, and with a powerful thrust, buried his wondrous, youthful cock to the hilt, bursting deep inside the hero’s ass. The force of the young man’s seed hitting his prostate staggered SuperiorMan, and he unloaded another massive volley, right after the other. It completely took his breath away, and he fell out, unconscious. But it was only a few moments. Finally, he stirred back awake, yet paralyzed. Still tied, of course... unable to move a muscle. The both of them laying in each other’s arms more exhausted than they’d ever known possible.
As both orgasms started to fade, SuperiorMan felt his mighty cock start to soften, but the weakness of orgasming prevented his strength from returning. They both lay there basking in the glow of a great sexual numbing process, powerless to the ways of the world around them. The youth’s body was adhered to his, as if his semen had glued them together. Could it be? Would the boy release him... and then, perhaps in time, they could ravage each other as true mates, lovers? The idea appealed to him surely not as rough as this event had been, but the youth knew his weaknesses, could make his body sing, and he wanted to do the same to him. Yet the intensity of his broken body re-inflamed him with overwhelming pain, almost not able to be endured.
“Please,” he said softly into the young man’s ear. “Let me go.”
Eventually, his captor stirred. SuperiorMan felt him slowly withdraw, getting up and moving around the room. He could not imagine what the young man might have in store for him next. Surely, enough was enough. He had been beaten to a pulp. He was in severe agony. He yearned for his conqueror to show some compassion, some care. Hadn’t he given him his all? Still, he was the imprisoned. This could not be his mortal fate! They had both blown epic loads, and been pleasured beyond imagining. Could it repeat? But first, he had to repair. Surely!!
Light blinded his eyes as the fold was taken from his face. Blinking in the sudden bright light of the candles in the room, SuperiorMan watched his captor carefully release him from his bondage. Still weak and completely helpless from his sexual adventures, his body lay in a broken mass on the bed, arms and legs loosely by his sides. Not even strength enough to rub at his eyes, though he made a feeble attempt, and to arrange his massive genitals comfortably between his sculptured thighs... now rapidly turning black and blue, too painful to touch almost. How would he even be able to walk?. His shoulders were so stunned, it was agony to lift his arms, they were also nearly hopelessly useless. He took a deep breath, swallowed painfully. The hero knew he had to obey his captor to avoid further punishment. He would play his role until his powers were restored, and then make his escape. But that could be days. Weeks! No, impossible!! This could not be!! Yet, he had shot enough semen to sink a battleship. Or so he thought. Not knowing... it was already far too late. He was no longer master of himself. Nor would be again.
The young man ordered him to get off the bed and the hero struggled to get on his feet. He first fell to his knees, strengthless; but the boy assisted him, firm arms under his, he rose unsteadily, and in a stupor. His body screamed from the beatings and the wax drippings, and his battered legs felt like loose jelly from their having been smashed, whipped, and then...further more depleted from his powerful orgasms. His unrelenting captor led him over, pushed him back against the X posts, and strapped him in securely with the leather restraints. SuperiorMan wanted, yearned, tried to break free, but he was weak as a kitten. His captor kissed his lips gently... told him to get some rest. Then, he watched as the young man went, climbed back into his bed and fell fast asleep. Sleep did not come to him for a long while despite being more than exhausted from his first bondage experience, his incredible body nearly shattered, and throbbing with such pain he could barely breathe, much less think... and remembering the wonder of his epic orgasms, almost causing him to stiffen again. But his fears, his worry, his pain... sapped what was left of his ability to ponder anything. Surely he would be set free, attended to, taken care of, be enabled to heal.... When sleep did find him, he was out like a light dreaming of more experiences like the ones he’d just had tonight. His brain had no rest. Reliving it, over and over, in slow motion. In both incredible pain, and wondrous joy. All the while, still tied upright on the torturous rack.
The youth keep him there, bound for seven days. Spoon fed him when appropriate, thrusting pain pills, sleeping pills, energy pills, protein drinks into him by the hours. Even hosed him off to keep his body clean. Jerked him off several times, just to keep him well-weakened and docile. It was then he realized he was never going to be set free. His soul despaired. His body had betrayed him; he could never regain his strength if he was to be constantly milked of his semen. His mind was so psyche-shattered, he did not know how to cry anymore. He began to cave-in, interiorly. His will was fractured.
Finally, when the young man determined he was able to walk, a private van was called for. SuperiorMan was once more dressed, blindfolded, arms tied behind his back... the leather collar again refastened to his neck, and he was led out: a blanket covering both over his head, his bonds and his identifying costume. He was being taken where he had no idea. All he wanted to do was die what had happened to him. No longer who he used to be, and despaired of ever being able to so be again. Unless ... maybe he was being taken to the doctors? Isn’t that what the youth had said? Of course, he’d had to wait until he could walk! The doctor would help him, give him some powerful steroids, reinfuse his strength, make him whole again. That had to be it! Even an alien being possessed of super normal powers, if damaged, needed all the help he could get. The young blond was going to save him after all. He felt a surge of warmth within him wanted to wrap the youth his arms. Give him a true, and full, and mighty manly kiss. Show him how a man could feel towards someone who cared so much for him... and what they had shared together. Tell him how much the joy he had been given had meant to him, in spite of all the pain, the merciless beating, the subjugation of all he had known and been, and had tried to hide. Now, he had a true friend who would care for him, perhaps share again with... knew him for who he truly was, and accepted him wholeheartedly. His pulse raced. Happiness began to steal through him. He was saved!
Doctor Tentacle listened to the story in amazement as he watched the reddened face of his nemesis. He thought he could actually see SuperiorMan’s cock again twitch from the remembered excitement, listening to the events of the previous week being retold. He looked at the young man who had now made history, and exploited SuperiorMan’s weakness to his own complete destruction and given him the key for world domination.
“You will be paid royally for your services,” the villain said happily. “In fact, I would like to hire you onto my team as SuperiorMan’s personal handler. The pay is quite good, and you will get to train our little hero for his new life of servitude.”
The young man grinned back at the evil genius. “Sounds like a dream job to me!” He said with an outrageous wink. “Hey, manly-stud Superior-Fag?” He glanced over at the crest-fallen hero, who was now more shocked than he thought possible.
Doctor Tentacle turned to his body guard. “Take our hero and his handler to level three, near laboratory C. I have quite a few experiments planned for our “former” SuperiorMan. Not the least which will be the continued milking of his male-source, his semen. His, more potent than the others.”
SuperiorMan’s jaw dropped, barely able to comprehend. He knew his life was over.
The Doctor watched satisfied, as the young man, and the super hero to whom he was leashed, forced the silent hero to his feet, and out of his office, led by the burly guard. Today was a great day, and he looked forward to some later alone time with his newest acquisition.... After all, SuperiorMan was only one of several others tucked safely away in their cells, awaiting his final judgments. Batman, Robin, Aquaman, The Flash. They had all been so easy. And the world was still wondering where they’d disappeared to. Three, he had already castrated; wondering still what to do with them. The Bat might make a good mate for his latest conquest now, having been turned into an insatiable cock-hound, he would be sure to keep SuperiorMan subdued.
(Batman, naturally, as he’d suspected, had been drilling Robin for years, and been drilled in return; only Robin’s virile-drilling abilities had been severely curtailed. Though Robin was still a good gymnast, martial arts perfected... he could train others. Even if his young cock-happy days were over. It just made good sense. Under his influence, and the drugs, none of them were worth much. Aquaman, still weeping daily, over his finely-large, limp-heavy cock, empty ball sac. But for the Bat, the best endowed of the bunch, he had ramped up the benumbed, un-cowled super hero into wanting it, wanting it, wanting it so much so, the man was about to strangle on his own 10 ½ by 7 ½ inches, if the doctor didn’t provide him some relief. A perfect controller for Superior-Man, who was far greater hung, but equally hungry. The two of them would both be milked; and for different reasons. Their cloned replacements would make a magnificent, incredible, controllable army. All same gender lovers, ever feeding off of each other: reinforcing their strengths, mending their weaknesses and no worries over family nonsense and such. His for the ruling.)
Doctor Tentacle chuckled to himself, musing over a cold cup of coffee. It was his world now, no stopping, no restraints. He turned his attention to an article on cold nuclear- fusion: how could he use it?
As they led him confidently down the hall, certainly no one to question or stop them... Superior Man’s heart lurched in dread, in panic. He was doomed. He knew they would never free him. Who would even find him? He had vanished. He was theirs now. He had relinquished all his powers, all his strength, to a simple, handsome youth the first brush, the first kiss that had killed him, turned him into a helpless slave to his own hidden desires... overpowering all his mind, reason, will and senses. The pleasure too intense, drowning him. He was doomed. He knew it.
Only, if someone ever truly loved him, could take control... could he be set free? Restored? It was impossible! Because surely they would not. Never would.... No, he was their toy, now. He had lost everything. Even his own will. Soon, all of his semen, too. Effectively castrated for life. Did anyone anywhere realize what had happened to him? Where he was? Perhaps only Batman could be a last hope. But no one had seen him the past two months. An incredible mystery. Super heroes don’t just disappear!
But, now... hadn’t he ?
Tears streamed down his face as he was led to his cubicle. A square, windowless cell, with only a cot, a toilet, a wash basin. Not even a shower. A small mirror over the sink. When he was loosed from his bonds, the door slammed shut. The words, “Have a nice evening. We’ll be back, stud-fuck. When we feel like it.... Maybe .”
He went to the mirror, gazed into his haunted eyes. Bent his head. And wept again. Almost silently, “Someone, please help me....”