Part Two (b.): Wrapping Things Up.
Within two weeks, Clark knew something drastic had to be done. Enthralled with how Jimmy was able to do him, even learning how to suck more of his overly large cock—but as Superman, became completely unraveled Jimmy was able to control him so simply. Who had more than quickly discovered the easiest, fastest way to conquer the outrageously muscled titan was to cleverly grasp hold of his huge nipples, and turn him into a beyond willing and submissive male in seconds. (No Kryptonite needed.) Astutely taking him, the incredible and mighty Superman down whenever and however he pleased; and significantly overpowering him! A shock in itself that it could be so easy. This definitely could not continue! Although not really wanting to dismiss the most wonderful of experiences he’d ever had with an earthling—except to “remain” as Superman, he was dismayed he might have no choice.
The odd thing was that Jimmy was rapidly changing into an almost other person. No longer just the congenial, happy-go-lucky fellow of before, which he still was, but with an added edge. He was becoming more strident, more aggressive, and quite dominant. After all, he was fucking the most unbelievably strong and powerful being on the planet, and making him whimper helplessly in the process. Not only was his ego soaring, but his physical strength and physique seemed to be absorbing something incredible, as if by osmosis, just doing him... while having him most often surrendered flat on his back, and spewing his alien juices all over the place so profusely. Jimmy taking in as much of his intoxicating serums as possible. Superman also more often, now becoming deprived of his... that which made him what he was. And knew with great trepidation must NOT be wasted! Nor allow himself to become too depleted. Although his “productivity” of them, in over-use, was now peaking greater and greater. (Could practically make him drunk as a loon when he more secretly indulged himself.) Only Jimmy, who now had almost moved in, kept him so drained he was near to losing his bearings.
As the naturally demure Clark, he had become the veritable, hung-muscled, big-titted plaything of the stridently, insatiable Jimmy—ever pliant and submissive. But as Superman, he was virulently annoyed, exasperated, and near, in truth, almost downright fearful of him. He also masculinely craved to fuck his younger companion, but too worried of hurting him, their attempts at this sort of activity often led to a frustrated failure, and short-lived chagrin. Jimmy then, reasserting himself, ravaging his excessively large pecs and coring the MOS silly, time after time after time. Creating an addictive desire to continually have the sizeable Jimmy within him, no less. More and more, over and over. While engaging in play with his huge nipples to heights of nirvana.
Things finally came to the breaking point, when the following two instances occurred. One afternoon at The Daily Planet , Jimmy waiting for his chance (since he was not supposed to be at his pal’s that evening), had texted him with an urgent message from across the office. “Must see you. Immediately—important. You know where.” And surreptitiously followed Clark into the private men’s room as indicated. Clark, as usual, always went into a stall, lest anyone see how large he was, if caught pissing at a more viewable urinal... knowing the commentary that would race through the newspaper’s office if he was known to be so impossibly hung. Jimmy, swift in his pursuit, made sure the entering door was locked, and burst into Clark’s stall. Clark about to zip up, turned more than startled. Gasping, “Whaa—?” Jimmy’s hands already ripping at his shirt front—Clark’s hands flying up to protect his glasses, and his shirt all at one time in wide eyed surprise—as Jimmy’s hands hit onto his chest (yes, his Superman’s costume under his shirt), and went for his so-large nipples.
Having never had a sexual partner before—except for his own hands and mouth—this was all quite new to him. Superman/Clark enthralled to have someone so strongly want him, and ever willing was now more than susceptible to having another being enjoy his wondrously big body for their insistent, demanding pleasure, as well as his own. Freely offering himself to them without qualm: a life-long grief of restricted desires at last released, taken, undeniably explored and overtly ravished. And thus, presented unashamedly. Yet, of course, within the proper time and context. Not just anywhere and way!
“Unnh, unnh, uhhhhhhh!” Clark, instantly taken aback, fell against the stall wall with a thud, scrambling for a modest defense, his cock still hanging out and on display, which rapidly began to harden and stand forth. Jimmy then immediately going further, hands rushing up under his costume, pushing his spandex shirt up over his pecs, and suddenly began sucking on his huge man-teats, from one to the other. The MOS stunned, rendered helpless, succumbing to his assaulter. His ecstasy instantaneous.
“Oh, Jimmy, no, no, not here! NOT—” Clark tried to stammer, but was cut off—Jimmy’s fingers and mouth controlling him. His strength-giving mammillae already in a sap-loosened outflow.
“Sorry, pal. Have a karate tournament tomorrow,” Jimmy mumbled. “Need some of that super tit-juice to make me strong.” And resumed drawing the milk from each of Clark’s heaving breasts, who shuddered and quivered under him. Then his hands dropped to Clark’s monumental penis, already up hard to just under his pecs, slipping his mouth over the longish-tapered glans of him. Clark overheated and moaning, “Ooohh, ooohhh, ohhhhhhh!!” —still stunned, surrendering himself with total abandon, his disguised Superman persona conquered. And being a fairly quick shooter once aroused, his hypersexuality overtaking him... it took barely five or six minutes before he rewarded Jimmy with the rich, thickish-white, sweet-hot potency he was after. Tremoring uncontrollably, his male-source rushing out of him in a mindless release. When Jimmy had his fill, and the staggered Clark tried to straighten, Jimmy quick kissed him, said “Thanks, guy. See you later,” with a grin. And hastily left.
Superman gasping, desperate to regain his breath. Strong thighs and loins still quavering.
It was a good thing Clark had an extra change nearby in his locker, or he would have been a mess. Causing more than strange looks at his ripped, soaked wet shirt front had he returned to his desk as is.... Somewhat angry and chagrined all at once. His balls literally churning, craving more. What Jimmy had triggered. Even had to go back in and suck himself off later, before he went home. Mulling over again his concerns, which had grown sharply problematic.
Early on, Jimmy having learned quite well how to control him, was relentless in his take-charge attitude... whether onto him as Clark, or the indomitable Superman. Dressed normally or in costume. It merely took but a swift, firm ownering hand onto his prestigious balls, lips over one of his mammoral protrusions, and it was done. Or, barely touching at the glans-like tips of his twin-heavy tits, lean into him, mouth-kiss... Kal’s Kryptonian cock giant-hard in but the fewest of seconds, all of it, and flowing wet. For to even be near him now, taking in his scent, the MOS’s nipples would automatically quiver, fill, and enlarge near instantaneously. And if barely brushed or touched by his friend begin also to seep wetly—a lightning strike into his prostate, his huge member towering in moments. Hopelessly enhungered, craving release, offering himself to be ravished and taken without hesitation. A lifetime of total repression now working against him, ever falling into the simple domination of one who was fast becoming a whirlwind tiger at mastering him. His big muscles and will pliable putty in Jimmy’s hands, fingers, mouth, lips... caresses. Not that his own were useless, delectably savoring every inch of his blond companion without fail, as well. But once Jimmy moved to forcefully taken charge of his swole, paired pectoral treasuries, he owned him. And both knew it. Submitting to his younger, but exceedingly virile, adept cock, his insatiable milk-taking mouth. Helpless. And unresistant. Under him.
Which while taking him to heaven, it terrified Superman to his core, as much as Jimmy’s manfulness ravaged him senseless, unable to curtail his need and desire for him: by mouth, hands, or up his ass. Endlessly. Though Jimmy was not yet able to ride or accommodate his capacious alien rod satisfactorily, he was learning, little by little. Knowing probably when that did happen, he might well lose his position as the more powerful dynamic in their relationship. Yet he was still consistently over-thrilled to have the monster-muscled, enormously-breasted, super-cocked Clark thrashing and wailing hopelessly under him. A rush to his brain, fucking the incredible Superman with his lesser just over nine inches, and having him practically on his knees anytime he wanted... who was ever bowing to him in a near cowering servitude. A true impossibility to believe. But it was happening.
Then the night came when the need for change became inevitable. At least for Clark Kent: the alien, Kal-El, known as Superman—established power-bottom, male-breasted milk-giver to, and more mature big muscled cunt for, and voracious cocksucker of... the nicely built, finely endowed young photographer, his fellow-worker, Jimmy Olsen. The realization, devastating.
Half dead with tiredness, having had a three harrowing event round as Superman earlier, by the time he hit bed late Thursday night, Clark was welcoming a good rest for all of his senses. Only at 2 a.m. his muddled sleep was interrupted. Lying in a massive curl of warm muscle, Jimmy quietly slipped in behind him, and very lightly began to play over the huge crowns of his long, soft nipples. Before he hardly knew what was happening, his overly large cock was swelling into immediate hardness.
“Mmmmmnn... Jimmy . Jimmy?” the grogged Clark moaned. Allowing his caresses with little protest. But telling him plainly, softly, “Don’t. Please. Already recycled myself... need to rest. Just rest, recoup.”
Jimmy, determined, proceeded to ignore him. His mouth already laving at Clark’s glans.
“Ohh, ohh, ohhhh!” Clark groaned. Thrashed a little, moving more fully onto his back, spread his legs a little to allow Jimmy clearer access to play with his balls, hand-slide his shaft.
“Brought you a present or two, to spice things up. You ready?”
And before Clark could think, as his mouth was agape with his moans, Jimmy thrust a narrow-necked bottle of something between his lips and practically choked him with it, forcing the liquid contents into his throat. He sputtered, half sat upright, grabbing at his mouth. “What! What is that, wha—?” Jimmy’s other hand quick to go behind his neck, hold him in position, and poured the bottle more into him, his eyes going wide with surprise. Dominate as Jimmy had been becoming, it was not actually that much of a surprise so much as an annoyance, that his friend could expect to control him so easily. Which indeed he was doing. And Clark was like primed pudding in his hands. His Superman personae aggravated, no less; his Clark enslavement being reinforced.
“A little “Special K,” to give you a boost. Make your cock harder, mind more receptive.”
“I don’t need harder!” Clark spat. “Not with you. What was that?” still tasting its soda-ie fizz and sweetness. A feeling of warmth surging through him, buzzing at his brain like an unwelcome bee. “Uhhhh, uhhhhh!! Oh, Jimmy....” His mind getting more than instantly fuzzed, a mellowness seeping through him, a wondrous relaxation.
“Ketamine,” Jimmy grinned. Not telling him it was a horse tranquilizer. Prone to not only subduing those great muscles of his, making him pliable as a kitten, but possibly creating hallucinatory spirals in his head, and making him crave whatever Jimmy had in store to be received with great eagerness and unalterable want.
Jimmy then pushed him back flat, seeing how he was already getting affected. Popped a few Viagra of his own with a swallow or two. Then proceeded to watch. His finger tips barely rubbing at the broad ends of Clark’s huge tits, never lifting them from off the ends of them, just slow circling rubs, feeling them so soft and silky... as his friend’s cock seemed to rise and tremor even higher and harder from their stimulation, as he groaned uncontrollably, body tensing, striving. And oh, how he loved it when he saw that spectacular Kryptonian member enlarge and rise even further, and so very quickly… and spontaneously shoot its roped, clot-warm contents all over his big muscled torso, even up onto his friend’s gaping face, who was writhing in climactic, depowered ecstasy, his nipples also pouring wet at the same time.
Jimmy grinned. And said, “Gotcha!” Then easily had Clark roll over onto his stomach, pulling at both of his wrists to get them behind him, and tied them securely together. Clark’s face in his pillow, mumbling and grumbling something while he was fastening him. Then rolled him onto his back again. Grasped at his hugely long udders, and looped them together with a rounded shoestring, so they were both bound horizontally against each other in the center expanse of his big chest, pulled exceedingly tight, while the far larger man moved and groaned in protest, keened boyishly/girly-like as he managed to get them confined together... still seeping wet. Knowing they were probably hurting him a bit, and demoralizing him in the process. Hands bound; tits fastened together. Big cock still hard and firmly near up to his sternum... the strange excitement of being rendered so unconditionally captive and contained somehow increasing Clark’s yearning for sex. As Jimmy figure it would.
Jesus, this Superman was such a monumental pussy; and he, Jimmy Olsen, was the one man in the whole world who had conquered him... could bend him to his will! What a rush!!
“Jimm... Jimmy, why are you doing this?” addled and unclear. Brain truly a-fuzz.
Again, Jimmy grinned. “Now I can suck both of those monster nips at the same time, and your cock head, too. Back and forth. While I fuck hell out of you. Look, man, I’ve brought me a strap-on, too. A big sixteen incher. Something I bet you’ve craved for all your life, and too shy to go try to find. Now, I can give you the ride of your life. See how many times you come before you’re completely useless. Been wanting to try this forever. And tonight is the night!”
“No, no! No, Jimmy no! I’m, I’m Superman! Someone may need me. Let me go, let me...”
“Oh, shut up, you fucking muscle-cunt whore! You love it when I dominate you. I saw that right from the beginning. And now, you’re going to get it even more than you’ve ever known. Never could shove that cock of yours up that far inside yourself, could you? Now’s the time to really experience getting fucked! And by someone... who does love you a bit. Even if you are such a massive wuss and fraud at heart.”
“My nips. Oh, my tits, Jimmy! How they hurt. Please, don’t. Untie them. Not so tight?!” struggling, useless to stop him. While craving for him to never stop, actually. Wanting him as much as he feared him. Aching for him to chew them voraciously.
In shock, Superman recoiled, still tried to free himself. In further shock, that he could not break the flimsy rope holding his wrists, and yearned to free his udders so they didn’t hurt and sting so much... but was completely unable. Not realizing his great strength was now impaired due to the tranquilizing drug affecting him from within. Frightening him. And his mind was buzzed so bad he thought he was flying naked over Metropolis, but it was only Jimmy’s nude body on top of his, holding him down... lifting his big thighs, slipping his young bold cock into him... and sucking at his oh, so sensitive huge nipples, and then his taperedly thick, juicing cock glans, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, driving him nuts... while fucking him nice and slow and easy with just his Jimmy’s own, for now. And kept on and on and on. As he purred and moaned, “Ahh-ooo, ahh-ooo, ahhh-oooo… AHHHH-OOOOOO!!”
Astounding him beyond astounding. His teats becoming sore, increasingly sensitive. And the heft of his balls, a raging fire within, working hard to produce and produce and produce.
It went on for hours. Four hours as a matter of fact. The great Superman groaning, thrashing, and coming and coming and coming... about once every fifteen or twenty minutes. Rope after rope of his seed spurted, lost, or swallowed by Jimmy, as well as his breasts’ milk ever being drained from him both my Jimmy’s mouth or hands, or just erupting spontaneously each time he ejaculated. Taking him into a nirvana never quite before known or experienced. And when Jimmy used the sixteen-inch strap-on on him, he thought his lungs and heart would rupture, and he came even more fiercely than ever before. Sometimes two and three times at once. Wearing him to a complete frazzle. And him getting weaker and weaker in the process, all of his extraordinary powers departing from him... the silly cords at his wrists and his nipples easily containing his once touted might and strength, messing with his mind, as well as the “K” liquid inside him having played havoc with his brain. Exhausted beyond exhaustion, yet stimulated to the stratosphere.
And Jimmy, who had conquered the “unconquerable,” was on a true fucking high!!
At last, the mighty alien had succumbed and blanked out. Jimmy figured the four hours had taken a toll on him, too. Would have to get the fucker up and showered, clean them up. Clark still had to be at work in the a.m., but he, Jimmy, had the day off. At six a.m. he got the benumbed Clark up and headed for the shower, leading him with one hand at the still fastened pair of his nips, with his other over the slackened flesh-rope of his thick cock. The alien moved in a stupor, and fell back against the walls of the shower stall not aware of anything happening, as if drunk. Jimmy washed them both off, Clark leaning like an automaton against the shower tiles, mumbling incoherently. Or making sporadic soft groans and shudders. Jimmy knew he had fucked out the great Superman into a helpless mess.
Inconceivable as that seemed, Superman was no longer the slightest bit “super,” except for the impressive look of his muscular size and mass. Puny as a ten-year-old girl, now. Just lumped there practically mindless. Eyes glazed, mouth adrool.
Jimmy finally cut the strings from his udders and freed his wrists. The warm shower waters were wondrously soothing, relaxing. Though from all the alien’s seed and milk he’d ingested, Jimmy felt beyond rejuvenated, and rockingly powerful and alert. Looking over at the half inert Clark with an almost savage-like near disdain: Pussy dick!! Super queer!! Just play him by his tits and he’s a wilting whore. Instantly grounded. All that titanic muscle. Who would have thought...?! Nothing but an Olympian fairy-fuck!!
After getting themselves half dried off, Jimmy tried maneuvering his pal into the bedroom again. Was going to have to get rid of those sheets. They’d only gotten about a dozen steps, and Clark merely staggered and collapsed, practically face down on the floor. With a crash, the whole room seeming to shake from his fall. Was not moving. Jimmy worriedly checked his pulse. It was strong but very slow. Jimmy knew he couldn’t pick him up. And finally figured Clark was out for “the duration,” whatever that meant. He then made his decision.
He called the operator at The Planet , telling them he had stopped in at Clark’s for a quick visit and had found his friend a complete mess. He’d been throwing up all night, and must have gotten a case of the stomach flu. Diarrhea and all. Wouldn’t be in that day. Then he went onto the outer balcony, threw the lounge cushions on the deck floor. Knew what his friend needed. Managed to roll him onto his side, get a blanket under him, got him on his back, and was able to slide his mass pulling on the blanket, and dragged him unsteadily out onto the balcony deck. Somehow got his unconscious form off and onto the cushions. Still naked, but made sure he was lying face up, a pillow under his neck, so he’d absorb the sunlight. Then got dressed and left.
He checked back several times later on. The first time, Clark was still laying supine and obviously out of it. The second, just after noon, he slyly viewed him on his side curled up, nursing assiduously from his outstanding nipples for about ten minutes or so. Then watched him from behind, sitting up in the brisk air, bending forwards to suck in his tower-engorged cock, before falling back after he came twice in his mouth, as if still exhausted. Three hours later when he returned, he secretly caught him again, this time on his back, folded remarkably in half, knees and feet, legs over shoulders, near-completely deep-throating himself to his balls, as well as alternately trading back and forth from each muscled-heavy breast, nipple to nipple... in a seeming oblivion of pure, self-nourishing, narcissistic ecstasy. Something he’d no doubt perfected doing for years and years. Like a Chinese acrobat... being ever alone. Only this time a bit more desperately.
Jimmy never letting him know he’d seen him replenishing himself as he must. Figured that that could go on a few times more.... He shrugged nonchalantly, glad he was apparently okay. And left again. Didn’t come back until after supper. Asked the now robed upright Clark how he was, and got a very sour response... who as Superman told him, this could not happen again!! Was changing the locks, and Jimmy would no longer have a free access key! Jimmy roll-crossed his eyes and frowned. Oh, well! But he still knew he was the man in charge. Because he went close to the angry kimono-robed Clark, laid his head against his chest, kissed him, rubbed at his pecs a little, tweaked his still tender, sausage thrusters—who “Ohhh, ohh-ohhhhh” -ed instantly, still weak and unsteady, near swooned... and fucked him twice before he finally left. His own cock more than a little sore.
The MOS once more left gasping and chagrined, bone naked on his own couch, robe front ripped aside, hairied torso and pubis juiced damp, trying urgently to figure what to do. Wilted and whimpering, still wanting just as much of Jimmy as before. And even more. Bit at his wrists in frustration, roll-cupped the weight of his notably large balls to soothe, comfort himself, sighing. And desperately thought... and thought and thought. For hours.
Only the “solution” was the most dreadful thing he’d ever come to—never dreamed, desired, or planned in the entirety of his life! But if he was to remain as Superman, he had no choice.... Would try to make it as quick and painless as possible.
* *
It was unexpected, and the office was a little surprised when the staunchly demure Clark and the budding, more forthright than ever before, Jimmy Olsen, announced they were going to take a short “Carnival” break and fly to the Bahamas... for some fun and sun. So much the more surprising since Clark had never been seen in a bathing suit at anyone’s pool party; and exactly what was going on here? Good Lord, were they going to see those huge shoulders and arms of his at long last? So well-hidden for speculative ages?! Didn’t make a lot of sense, as those two were not known to be bosom buddies, until rather recently. Seeming to hang out a bit more closely than would have been expected since Christmas. Hmmmn.
Lois surely had to raise her eyebrows on that one. With a curt, “Well, indeed, send us some pictures. Must be nice to get a tan, together.... ” With a twist of a frown and curious smirk all in one. “While we’re all still huddling around, shivering here in Metropolis.”
It went rather well. They were only to be gone for two days one week, and two the next, bordering both sides of their selected weekend. When they got there, Jimmy quickly moved first, and while tired from the flight, fucked him near brainless the first night. It took him more than a planned few hours to recover, making sure it didn’t happen again on the second. Depleting his significant powers could not be allowed. Or he’d be incapable. For the third day, Clark made sure they had a small boat excursion set for a tour around the islands. And on that day, he definitely reasserted himself, and sucked Jimmy off three times before departing on their trip. The taste of him to be imprinted into his brain forever after. Jimmy feeling a little looped, and thoroughly drained, no less joyful at his friend’s sudden surge of masculine mastery.
Their trip was going pleasant enough. There were some pictures taken, one with Jimmy’s arm around Clark’s neck, but Clark not allowing his pecs and protrusive assets to be shown to anyone, instead wore a baggy tank top. This was the picture that they sent back to Lois, along with a few scenic views. Then after lunch, on the excursion boat, only a dozen passengers in all... Clark used his x-ray vision to fry the boat’s motor and set the vessel afire.
Although a life raft was thrown in the water, most of the passengers had to jump into the open sea, which was calm and clear, yet all of them in surprise and half-panicked. It was then as the struggling Jimmy was treading water to stay afloat, Clark took a significant breath, dove deep, came up under him, grabbed his ankles, and pulled him under. And held fast. Until he stopped struggling. Then let him go, swam to the other side of the sinking vessel before surfacing. Was truly in as much shock as possible, when it was ascertained they had all made it... except Jimmy. Who must have gotten stomach cramps from just eating lunch. And now Clark was going to have to accompany his body back home, in great distress.
Indeed, he was in distress, having violated all of his values as Superman, to always do right, and in all ways. Only Jimmy was the one person on earth who could have destroyed him. And there was no way he could ever let that happen, or he’d never be Superman anymore.... Admitting it was all his fault, had he never first done what he’d done, sucking Jimmy off in that shower months ago. What a wonder and joy their entanglement had been. But fatal. Knowing he would surely miss his buoyant personality, his cock, his mouth and hands forever—nor could he ever allow such an engagement to happen again. Realizing too late, and impossibly, how much he’d loved him. But couldn’t! Didn’t dare! His guilt eating him up inside. But he’d have to live with it. Suppress it, like he’d again have to do with his ever-cloistered sexuality.
And he did, he cried. Deeply alone. And often feeling more than alone, years and years after. Trying to forget each time he withdrew from his own fountained resources, remembering how wonderful much Jimmy’s mouth on them had been. Near knocking him out, no less. While being fucked and sucked, jacked, juiced from and with, and kissed by him, breathlessly. But had to forget. Forget. Forget. Forget....
Such could never be allowed nor happen again!
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