The Telemachus Story Archive

The Seven BDSM Nights of Superman
Chapter 3 - The Third Night
By Henry Dee

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Disclaimer: I do not own Superman or related characters and am not making a profit from this story. The characters are owned by DC Comics.

Clark Kent left work early that day, citing stomach cramps, and within minutes a red-cloaked figure sat pensively upon a rock ledge high above the deep chasm of an abandoned galena mine. And indeed, there were strange stirrings in the abdomen of the confused Kryptonian. At first contemptuous of the lewd activities his contract with Luthor had imposed on him, he found himself disconcertingly aroused by the memories and wondering with heightened pulse about the night to come. His hand wandered unconsciously to the growing bulge between his legs and he gave a sharp gasp as he realised he had begun to masturbate as he thought about the possibilities. What was happening to him? Why had he arrived at Luthor's lair a full two hours before the appointed time? Why was the humiliation of becoming a compliant sex-toy so unexpectedly arousing?

He silently berated himself for his lapse in self-discipline and was about to soar away into the clouds when the whirr of helicopter rotors caught his attention. Heading directly towards where he sat was a sleek black chopper emblazoned in gold with infamous double L logo of Lex Luthor. Superman stood as the elegant craft drew alongside and hovered a few bare metres away. A puzzled Luthor sat in the passenger seat staring quizzically at his super foe.

"It's not regarded as good manners to arrive two hours early for a date babe; you're not pulling out of our contract I hope?"

"I.. ah.. no." Stammered the embarrassed Man of Steel. "I just.. I was in the vicinity.."

Luthor gave a knowing grin.

"At the speed you travel, everywhere is in the vicinity. No. Something made you want to be early. Hey! You don't have to lie to me, Honey, I know how this stuff can get you in, hehe." The criminal mastermind's snickering and the knowledge that he had been caught out brought the blood to Superman's cheeks but there was nothing he could do to deny it. In a bewildering and unexpected way the experiences of the previous nights had had a seductive effect and caused him to betray the idealised concept he had of himself as a champion of good and the moral order. Damn it! He would not let it happen again.

"You can believe what you like, Luthor. I'm here early to keep my side of the bargain but I expect to finish early too! You have five more nights to play your sick games and then I get my side of the deal."

"Sorry to disappoint you, bitch, but our arrangement says a 7 o'clock start and we have some preparations to do before we can begin tonight's little session, You're gonna have to cool your heels here for awhile I'm afraid. Hey, maybe you'd like a little light reading while you wait?" And with that he tossed a couple of thick glossy magazines at Superman. The helicopter dropped the short distance down to the balcony entrance to Luthor's hidden fortress and Luthor walked imperiously across a gangway and into the hall beyond. Superman dropped his eyes and began to look through the "reading material" Luthor had thrown to him.

The cover of the first magazine bore an explicit picture of a muscular male ass spread wide and pointing its rosebud at the camera. The model was clad in the costume of a French maid and, indeed, the title in lurid pink read "THE NAUGHTY MAID". He stared in horror at page after page of himself from two nights before primping and posing pants-less in the little black skirt, allowing and even seeming to welcome the ogling eyes and grasping hands of a room full of gangster overlords. Cock, balls and ass were on display from every angle. He was seen sitting on men's laps while they fondled his genitals and bending over while they stroked his firm cheeks. Every moment had been captured by the camera and printed in high definition.

Horrified he turned to the other magazine, knowing already what he would find. The title was simply "POOCH" and the cover showed a naked Superman sitting up in begging position with dog collar and lead while a leather clad bearded man stood behind him holding him by the hair. Again it seemed that every moment of the indignity of the previous night had been captured by the hidden cameras. He saw himself crawling, chasing, sitting and rolling over in the role of an obedient and compliant dog. He saw his body being handled in the most intimate of manners by the roomful of leather-men, and most mortifying of all, he saw close-up after close-up of his erect cock dripping with pre-cum at his obvious excitement and his ball-sack tight with undoubted arousal.

Furious, he flew down and into the hall and bellowed "Luthor!!!"

Luthor appeared nonchalantly at the far end door.

"You seem a little upset. Didn't you like the snaps? I thought they were a most comprehensive record of events."

"You lieing, cheating scum, Luthor. Our contract never said anything about photos!"

"LISTEN SUPERFAG! Our contract said you were to submit to my desires and if my desires include taking photos, then I take photos, got it?! Or do you want out of the contract? You know the consequences if you do!"

And indeed he did; the death of thousands and wholesale destruction. He glared with hatred at his nemesis and ground his teeth but there was nothing he could do.

"Well now, if you're finished your little tantrum you can wait on the balcony. I'll call you when we're ready."

For the best part of the next two hours Superman leaned on the balcony rail, looking down into the chasm below. His mind turned again and again to the images he had seen, and after awhile the initial shock faded and was replaced by something different. He began to feel a strange sense of liberation at being exposed in so explicit and undignified a manner. He began to know in a small way the ecstasy of the exhibitionist and, while he could not yet quite admit it, it was both alluring and seductive. His was indeed a beautiful body; why shouldn't it be shared?
"Play time!" came the voice of Luthor from behind and he turned to see that the hall had been transformed into what resembled a nursery. There was an oversized baby's play gym, changing table, cot and various other accoutrements. Standing around the perimeter were about a dozen young men and women dressed in stylish casual daywear and all leering directly at him. A tall blonde college type took a few steps towards the Man of Steel, crouched and spoke:

"Hey baby! Crawl to Daddy! Daddy wants to play with you."

"And Mommy too!" The words came from a stunning brunette whose deep dark eyes focussed intently on their subject. Superman's eyes narrowed as their power revealed what would be hidden to all but the most discerning of human eyes, the subtle growth of follicles on the beard-line, and slight variation of skeletal frame, that revealed this "Mommy" to be the most desirable of transvestites. He understood immediately what was expected of him, and sank to the floor. Just as he had the previous night he began to make his way across the floor on all fours.

"Ah, there's Daddy's little man!" The young man took the Kryptonian chin in his hands and patted a cheek.

"Bath time!" said "Mommy" and the two of them began to undress their invulnerable "baby". He lay back compliantly and allowed their hands to remove every item of clothing until he was lying there naked, exposed to every eye in the room, and undoubtedly to many concealed lenses. Already his impressive organ had started to respond to the handing and the suggestion of the game to come and had become semi-erect.

"Ooh, Mommy's little man is growing into a big boy!" Giggles tittered around the room. With unexpected strength the "parents" lifted their naked baby towards a large plastic bathtub and lowered their charge into warm soapy water.

"Let's get this boy nice and clean!"

"Don't miss anything!" Luthor's voice was unmistakeable.

"Don't worry, we won't," smirked the transvestite as her soapy hands slipped over the shoulders, chest and stomach, and slid down between the legs. While she carefully massaged the hardening cock and loose warm ball-sack her "husband" was busy at the other end, shampooing the famous black locks, and massaging the scalp. Superman lay back and gave himself over to the sensual overload. His hips moved slowly in time with the red-nailed hand moving over his genitals, between his legs, exploring the gap between his butt-cheeks and toying with the little pink eye which was the doorway to his inner world. He exhaled long and softly as he felt his arousal grow and grow. As "Daddy" continued to massage the scalp he moved his face closer to the "baby's".

"Whose Daddy's good little boy?" he asked and rubbed his nose against Superman's cheek. His tongue slowly made its way across the celebrated face; over the eyes, the cheeks, the chin and jaw, up to the ear and into the opening. His teeth began to nibble lightly on the lobe and Superman felt his dick harden further and the first subtle urge of an impending orgasm. He could feel the warmth of the young man's breath on his face and intuitively moved his face towards the tongue, opening his mouth as he did so. Faces met and his mouth was soon filled with the deep, firm wetness of the handsome college boy's probing tongue. By now his hips were slowly thrusting up and down in time with the long strokes and the firm grip upon his fully engorged cock.

Just as he felt himself moving inexorably towards cumming, without comment "Mommy" and "Daddy" disengaged from their "baby" and moved away grinning to the perimeter of the hall. At the same time a similar couple moved towards the bath. Delicately, gingerly they took over the bathing, with sparing, light touches that put eased back on the level of arousal and stemmed the tide of the gathering orgasm.

This time it was "Daddy" who took over bathing the groaning superhero's nether regions. One strong hand gripped the magnificent cock while the other toyed with the bulging red glans and fingered the wide lips of the slit, now dripping free-flowing pre-cum. His "female" partner held the handsome head in a tight embrace and kissed the gaping mouth deep and slow.

The hands on his cock now moved to the large firm balls, massaging them until the scrotum tightened and drew their large round orbs close to the base of the engorged organ. The massage continued as one hand now moved deep between the buttocks and a large finger slid easily into the waiting hole. Superman drew a deep breath as the finger went deep into his body and the tip began to stroke the fluid filled prostate.

But again the sensual massage abruptly ended just short of the impending release, and another couple took over the expert edging. And so it continued until every one of the ten couples in the room had played at length with their helpless super baby. and all the while a smiling Luthor looked on triumphantly.

When the final couple had ceased their play, they lifted Superman out of the bath, lay him on a large bath towel and dried him roughly. He was then lifted again onto a nearby changing table, where he was smeared with baby oil, patted and powdered with talc. All twenty then gathered around and lifted their "baby" into a baby chair, patting and stroking him all over. With forty hands seeking pints of contact his whole body was totally alive with sensation. His pulse quickened, his breath grew rapid, and his balls and cock strained for release.

"Must be nearly time to feed our baby," Luthor hissed, and one of the transvestites picked up a bowl and spoon from close by. "She" began now to rigorously milk the massive cock, while other hands rapidly fingered the asshole and prostate, and rigorously rubbed the balls. Fingers tweaked his nipples and tongues invaded his ears and mouth.

With a cry of exultation mixed with desperation Superman released his cum. The orgasm lasted a full minute with spurt after spurt of hot sticky fluid shooting into the waiting bowl.

"Milk him completely! Leave nothing inside," came the order from Luthor, and the greedy hands continued their tugging, stroking and rubbing until every last drop of Kryptonian cum had shot or dripped into the bowl. Superman's cries turned to groans and whimpers, then faded to sighs as the milking finally ceased.

"Dinner time, baby," smiled the "Mommy" holding the bowl. "Open up baby, here comes the aeroplane!"

Reluctantly, almost fearfully the naked superhero opened his mouth, compelled by the contract he had entered into. He had never tasted cum, never even thought to, now his mouth was filled with spoonful after spoonful of the hot sticky mucous.

"Swallow for Daddy. There's a good boy." And he gulped down his body's own secretions as commanded, until the whole bowl was empty, at which point the laughing feeder wiped the cummy spoon across his face and placed filthy bowl on his head like a hat.

"Nighty night baby."

Then each of the twenty in turn kissed him on the lips and silently exited the hall. Last to leave was Luthor himself, grinning widely.

"Sleep well bubs. Catch you tomorrow!"

Superman sat quietly in the baby chair for a long time before moving. Slowly, despondently he dressed in the world-renowned blue, yellow and red costume and headed towards the balcony and the beckoning night sky.

A silent figure, lost deep in thought, floated high above the planet until early morning, then quietly flew into his Metropolis apartment. He stripped and lay sleepless in his bed. As much as he wanted to forget the events of the evening past, he could not. He had been touched and violated in ways he had never imagined. But worse than this was one unassailable truth: he had never cum like that before in his life, never experienced an orgasm even remotely as powerful.

And he wanted more.


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