The Telemachus Story Archive

The Seven BDSM Nights of Superman
Chapter 7 - The Sixth Night (Part Two)
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.

As they entered the reception room they were greeted by applause and hoots of laughter from the assembled guests, men in tuxedoes and women in elegant cocktail dresses, the lords and ladies of world of crime, astonished and delighted at the pathetic sight of their great foe reduced to a travesty, a thing of ridicule and contempt. As Luthor led him around the room, the leash pulling hard on the distended frenulum, they derided him, spat on him, threw their drinks in his face, slapped his ass, called him "fag", "asshole", and "slut". The laughter was almost unbearable.

After a full circuit of the room, Luthor offered the leash to others. The first to take it was Jimmy Oliverio, whose secret, illegal casinos Superman had busted just three years earlier.

"Ok you bitch, now it's time for a little fun!"

Jimmy grabbed the end of the leash and began to run around the perimeter of the room, the gleeful guests parting for him as he ran as hard as his short fat frame would allow him. Slow as Jimmy was, there was no way Superman could match his pace. The leash strained at his cock as he desperately tried to keep up with his bowlegged shuffling waddle. Tears of laughter ran down the cheeks of the criminals as they watched Superman's distraught attempts to run and heard his tormented howls. Camera phones were everywhere in evidence as the unbelievable antics were recorded for later viewing by gangs around the world.

Puffing and sweating an elated Jimmy handed the leash over to another of the guests, a tall, dark-haired woman with lined face and a fierce demeanour. Iris McVicar, the Irish assassin whose nest of murderers had been broken and imprisoned by Superman in the same year that Jimmy's casinos had been busted.

"Well you fucking pathetic excuse for a man, it's time for you to dance to my tune." And she gave the leash hard tug. Superman yelped in pain and gave a small jump in the direction of the leash, then groaned out loud as he inadvertently pulled against the rings in his ball-sack and nipples. Iris backed away, and gave the leash another hard yank, and again Superman was forced to leap as best he could. Around the room she went, backing away and jerking on the leash. Superman struggled for breath, drool flowed around the ball-gag and he gasped and moaned. Iris' cruel game was worsened by the continued laughter, slapping, spitting and kicking as he passed the other guests. Eventually Luthor took the leash again and led Superman to the centre of the room. He unhooked the leash from the frenulum and removed the ball-gag.

"Th..thank.. you.. " breathed Superman.

"Haha. Don't thank me too soon fool. The night is still young!" Superman looked up into Luthor's grinning face, then felt an almost unbearable biting sting on his bare ass. Again it made him leap involuntarily and again he felt the sharp pull on his nipples and scrotum. He turned and saw one of Luthor's wrestlers standing behind him holding a long slender cane, flicking it in the air in front of him.

Again without warning he felt a second sharp sting on his ass, making him leap a yelp again. He turned and saw the other wrestler thug, grinning and also holding a cane but no sooner had he eyed the burly hood than he felt the cane of the first thug sting him yet again. Desperately he tried to back away from the two laughing, cane-wielding men, his bow-legged stooped posture and naked hairless form a ridiculous sight.

"Go get him boys!" came a call from one of the ogling guests.

"Love the floor-show, Luthor!" called another, and hoots of laughter ran around the room as the defenceless, powerless superhero tried desperately to evade his pursuers. With his hands held close by his neck he could not fend off the canes, which were being directed at his great muscular butt-cheeks with short underarm wrist-snaps rather than full blows giving the effect of whip-cracks and leaving fierce bright red patches whenever they landed. His bent-over position made it impossible for him to pull his ass out of the way and all he could do was shuffle and waddle around the room, trying to keep his rear end away from his tormentors but without success as the two of them moved quickly to keep either side of him. The sting of the canes was like nothing he had ever felt before and before long he was screaming and begging for them to stop. Why oh why had he been so foolish as to turn on the EM machine? If only he had his powers!

Suddenly he was face down on the floor, tripped by one of the guffawing spectators, the throbbing on his ass now matched by a sharp pain in his nose. For the first time in his life he felt the warm wet flow of a bleeding nose and tasted the metallic sweetness of blood on his lips. Unable to stand as the canes continued to snap at him, he wriggled and crawled through the delighted guests, curling up in foetal position in the corner, whimpering and sobbing.

"Stop, stop, stop. Please stop. Please, please..."

Luthor's face was again close to his.

"You want it to stop?"

"Yes, yes, please..."

"They will stop on one condition."

"What? Yes, anything."

"You have to beg me to fuck you."

Superman's jaw dropped and he stared in horror at Luthor. He had been violated by fingers, tongues and objects but he had never been penetrated by another man's cock. Now he was faced with the alternatives of unbearable beating or surrendering his anal virginity to his most hated enemy.

"No... please no..."

"All right then. Have it your way."

Luthor moved away and the two thugs stood over the curled up quivering form. Now they gave full vent to their hatred and cane blows rained down on ass, legs, arms, torso and genitals. His screaming reached crescendo.

"Ahhh. No. No. Stop. I'll do anything. Please, stop!"

Luthor's face again drew close to his as the assailants backed away.

"Do you want to ask me something, Superman?"

"Yes." he whispered between sobs.


"Fuck me."

"Ask nicely."

"Fuck me please. Please."

"And how do you want me to fuck you?"

"Any way you want. Deep and hard. Just fuck me. Please."

"Your wish is my command! Okay guys, let's do this pathetic creep like the whore that it is!"

Superman was dragged to his feet and taken to the centre of the room where a large heavy table was now waiting. The chains were removed from his body and his ankles were spread wide and attached to two of the table legs. His body was stretched full length over the table top and his arms extended forward as far as they could go, and tied at the far end. The spreading of his legs had exposed his hairless hole and the only movement possible for him was to be able to lift his bald and bloodied head slightly up and from side to side. He could see his leering, laughing audience gathering close around him. A large mirror was placed in front of him so that he could see the triumphant Luthor standing behind him staring at his exposed ass. He closed his eyes in the anguish of defeat and dropped his head onto the table. He could feel a tickling sensation in his rosebud.

"Is this where you want it?" he heard Luthor's voice ask.

"Yes." he whispered in reply.

"Hmmm. We'll need some lube first."

He felt a hand on his cock and opened his eyes. In the mirror he could see that Luthor was now kneeling behind him. He could feel the criminal's hands massaging his balls and stroking his cock. Luthor was milking him in front of the crowd; his own cum would be the lube for his deflowering. He tried to relax and give himself over to the sensations emanating from his crotch. The humiliation of being bound and milked was far preferable to the agony of the cane and he did not want to do anything to anger Luthor and risk further beating. He let his hips move with the strokes as best he could despite his immobility.

"Good boy," cooed Luthor, "That's right, work with me. Let's empty these beautiful balls."

He felt himself hardening, and the growing sense of impending orgasm, then almost without warning the sudden explosion of release and he groaned out loud, half in ecstasy, half in defeat, as his cum flew from his spasming cock, splattering across the floor and filling Luthor's waiting hand.

The spellbound crowd hooted their approval with many jockeying for position to get the best angle for their cameras. Superman felt Luthor's hand move to his gaping hole and begin to work the hot cum in, probing with his fingers, but the other hand remained on the still engorged cock and continued the steady milking. Superman strained to move his now ultra-sensitive cock from the grasp but his firm bondage to the table allowed only a small amount of movement.

"Oh noooo...." he moaned as he felt a second round of arousal and again the undeniable urge of impending orgasm. His breathing grew more rapid and his moans louder as the criminal's hand caressed and worked the now fully erect cock, pumping faster and faster as the thrusting hips and pulsing veins announced a second cumming, then...

"Ahhhhhh!!!!" Superman's naked bald body flushed bright red as cum erupted again from the magnificent cock. The second load gushed almost as fully as the first and again Luthor caught a good handful of the hot goo. Yet still he did not release the reddened throbbing organ, but rubbed the Kryptonian semen into its owners ass while continuing to pull with an even tighter grip.

This third milking was rougher and more savage than either of the first two. Having almost emptied his victim's balls, Luthor now took the opportunity to make arousal and release as painful and violent as he could. The audience looked on in amazement, mouths agape, as the master criminal jerked away on their nemesis like a child punishing a toy. It seemed that if he pulled any harder or faster the now purple dong would come right away from the suffering man's body. Superman's mouth and eyes stretched wide in agony and desperation.

"No... no... noooo...!" he cried then gave an almost shrill final "NOOOOOOOOO!!!!" as once again white drops flew from him, a tiny amount, and yet Luthor kept pumping, pumping until no further drops would come and the cries and groans subsided into soft sobbing.

Finally Luthor released the raw, aching cock, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Smiling broadly he undid his belt, unzipped his fly and let his pants fall to the floor. He was already hard, fully aroused by the preceding play and ready to deliver the final humiliation.

"Now bitch, time to open wide for Daddy. Now beg me again to fuck you."

Exhausted, Superman did not reply but sobbed quietly into the table.

"No? Maybe you need a reminder!" And he grabbed a cane from a nearby thug and raised it high. One! Two! The cane came savagely down diagonally across the beautiful ass, first from the right, then the left, leaving a long red x-shaped welt centred on his cum-filled hole. The bald tear-streaked head lifted high and a huge scream filled the room.

"Now what do you want, scumbag? More of that?

"No! No! Fuck me. Please fuck me!"


"However you want! Deep and hard! Please, please, no more cane!"

"That's better, fag. Now open wide."

Superman pushed out his hole as far as he could and felt the probing end of Luthor's engorged uncut organ push in hard past the sphincter in one thrust. He had been entered by fingers and objects and for a moment it seemed that the criminal's cock was easy in comparison. Luthor started slow and deep, then increased the tempo, pounding the ass hard each time. As the pace grew more rapid he leaned forward and grabbed the prone man's ears like reins and pulled the bald head back hard towards him. Superman's back arched high to ease the strain on his ears and neck but Luthor pulled even harder as the pounding grew even faster and harder. Then with a few slow, violent jerks and thrusts he shouted out loud

"YES!!!!! I've fucked the bitch! Take my cum in your pathetic ass, superfag!" And the assembled criminal company gave a huge cheer and loud round of applause. He released his grip and stepped back, his cock dripping cum as it left Superman's ass.

"Thanks god," thought Superman as the tension drained from him and his body relaxed against the table.

"Now, who's next?" asked Luthor, and horror filled Superman's mind. It was not over. He would be bound and held in place until every criminal in the room had had their way with him! A low whimper escaped him and subsided into soft weeping.

The next few hours were a nightmare of abuse. Thrusting, pounding fucking from crook after crook, each taking pleasure in reminding their hapless victim of how he had damaged them and their criminal activities, and what pleasure they would take in their revenge. Women with massive strap-ons and broom-handles capped with rubber didoes joined in penetrating the gaping, ravaged hole. Twins and couples spit-roasted him, fucking ass and mouth simultaneously, then swapping places and calling out, "How does your ass taste, Superman?" Cat-calls, laughter and a tirade of mockery filled the air, and every violator posed for humiliating, explicit photographs.

Dazed and half-conscious Superman felt large strong hands lift his head.

"Do you remember me?" Struggling to focus, an enormous head loomed close to his own. "Wolfgang the Enforcer is my name."

Vaguely Superman remembered Luthor's most powerful underling, a human hulk nearly eight feet tall, six feet across the shoulders with hands twice the size of a normal man's.

"You busted me robbing a bank a year ago, left me dangling from the ceiling trussed up in duct-tape for the police. Sent me to rot in prison for life until Mr Luthor broke me out last week. Now it's my turn to be boss!"

The huge criminal moved out of Supeman's vision and placed himself behind the bound man, between his legs, and Superman steeled himself for what he imagined would be a huge phallus. But Wolfgang did not remove his pants. Instead he began to work the hole with his huge fingers, first one then two, thrusting and kneading in and out, then three, then four, until all the digits of his right hand were fucking the bruised swollen ass.

'More, more. Give him more." he heard Luthor urge, and suddenly it was as if his ass exploded. Wolfgang had placed his whole right fist into Superman and was fisting him, ramming him piston like with long slow thrusts. Now he felt as if he was being split in two but it grew worse. Not only the hand but now the whole forearm was plunging in and out of the pain-wracked rear end of Superman, now almost delirious with trauma.

"More, more. Give him everything!"

Suddenly the bonds were being released and Wolfgang's left arm grabbed him around the middle, his right arm now fully within the battered ass. With enormous strength he hoisted the screaming Kryptonian high overhead so that he balanced high in the air, impaled on the arm, dancing like a demented marionette. Around the room Wolfgang marched, with Superman pinned on his arm, a blubbering trophy in a universe of pain.

"Finish it!" commanded Luthor and, with the whole crowd following behind chanting "Finish it! Finish it!" Wolfgang strode out of the room.

As the procession passed through the cinema, the wrestler thugs grabbed the EM machine and, holding it high, led Wolfgang and the crazed procession towards the hall. By now the semiconscious Superman was gurgling and gyrating, a naked insane doll on the arm of his conqueror. The mass of criminals mad their way into the hall, and watched as the wrestlers and Wolfgang continued onto the balcony.

"Get rid of that thing!" shouted Luthor, and the EM went sailing out into the darkness, the clatter of metal on rocks echoing up from the canyon beneath.

"And that thing too!!" Luthor hissed and the entire company went quiet as Wolfgang extended his arm out over the massive drop. Superman was now almost completely silent and deathly still. With a huge bellow and an overarm pitching motion, Wolfgang sent the battered, naked figure flying off his arm, into the yawning blackness. From far below there was the clatter and crunch of flesh and bone on rock, then nothing.

"Luthor!" someone shouted, then the hall was filled with shouts and chants of "LUTHOR! LUTHOR! LUTHOR!" They crowded around him, shaking his hand and patting him firmly on his back.

The triumphant criminal smiled and bathed in the adulation.

"My friends," he called, "I thank you for your loyalty and your attendance here tonight! Now I think the celebrations can really begin!"

And laughing and chanting, they made their way back to the party.


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