The day burned bright and cool. He had arranged for a week off from the Daily Planet, professing he wanted to take a long desired jaunt to Tahiti. When he left that Friday, before his birthday Tuesday, they all wished him well. Never realizing they’d never see him again. Nor he, them. October, lovely month. His favorite. Not knowing he’d never even see Christmas.
For the weekend, he kept himself busy; actually flew to New York, caught two plays. In between, he had saved the crash landing of a private Cessna, with three aboard; the rape of a college girl at a wild party; two fishing vessels caught in a storm; and a Greyhound bus about to go off a bridge. It kept his head and mind busy, his senses always on overload. So damn tired. When he finally touched down early Tuesday morning on his terrace, he was exhausted. Needed more than a relaxing hot soak, and a few semen infusions. It had been a couple of days, though he was often a three times a day man. Which could sometimes be interrupted or inconveniently delayed. He was going to take his time, maybe go for four.... Depending on his mood. He was needy. And depleted.
His apartment here was quite large, three bedrooms: one he used for a computer-den and library; another for secret, out of this world storage, (not feasible to be kept at the Fortress so far away), plus minimal exercise equipment, bow-flex type; the other with mirrors to sleep in; and a very fine spa area with connecting shower, nice modest kitchen, and living room. The tab was $128,000 a month. Peanuts, compared to his ability to procure whatever he wanted, raw gemstones, silver, gold, diamonds still buried on public lands. It was a floating lease with the option to buy. As long as he paid, it would be someday his. If he missed a month, or moved elsewhere, the investment would be gone.
As he stripped, he got a natural hard-on as he did most of the time, seeing himself. But decided, not yet; he wanted a good soak in the warm whirlpool, first—downing two glasses of cabernet to get him going, semi-high, as he padded into the steamy, swirling waters, rubbing his washboard stomach, caressing his balls lightly, brushing his long nipples, flexed a few biceps poses in the mirror. Damn, he had 22’s—and at his weight, that was more than phenomenal. If he’d have fiddled around much more, he would have shot his load before he got in the tub, easy and spontaneously. The sight of himself could often do that. Especially if he feasted on his nipples, even just a little. Ahhhh, he was tired. Unusual for him to have muscle aches....
He stepped in. The quickening warmth of the water was an instant rushing surge of almost too hot, but not a problem for him. While he wouldn’t stick his hand in boiling water, or plunge into the Arctic Ocean, he could accommodate most temperatures instantaneously. His nipples seemed to swell, and soften even larger. As did the restless hang of his large genitals, relaxing more so in the water. He felt on them a short while, seated on the tile inside step-rim of the pool, moved to a lower step near the stronger jets, leaned back, closed his eyes, immersing himself chin deep in the water. With the effect of the wine, he was soon near to dozing.
No, unless he were focused on it, his super-hearing never came into play. It would have driven him mad, the cacophony of sounds available. Eyes closed, he caught the softness of an approaching whistle. He then heard an, “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry....”
Opening his eyes, he was startled out of his wits.
There before him was a handsome, well-hung, young blond man in his mid 20’s, nude, not a stitch on, ankle deep in the water, on the steps across from him, with a weird sort of metal box in his hands... staring at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.
“I didn’t know anyone was home. They told me the place was empty.”
The youth was obviously distressed, startled as he was, or a good actor? Holding firmly to the metal contraption in his hand, it was raised to waist level.
What the hell?
“Who are you, how’d you get in?”
“Master keys. Management. I was sent here to check out the spa system; they were having trouble with the heating, and pressuring of the jets in several units. They wanted to make sure all of them were working.”
“Without pre-permission to enter?” Clark demanded, still keeping his body under the bubbly, swirling waters.
“They said you’d told them you’d be gone for week, South Pacific, or something. They weren’t going to call there, to check out the plumbing.”
Clark snorted. “No, guess not.” And stared at the young man’s beautifully heavy cock, he could see was somewhat beginning to engorge. “You always work like that?” with a wry grin, trying to be casual. And against his basic nature found he was sounding fairly flirty.
“Oh, my God,” the guy stammered. “No, no, not at all. It’s just... well, nobody home, really much easier to check the waterjet pressures, point by point, if I can climb into the pool. You know, clothes are a problem. Nobody... home. Uhh, I do it all the time.”
Clark looked at him, couldn’t help but feel his own cock stirring. He swallowed hastily.
“No’s, alright. Go ahead. That’s what the box is for?”
“Yeah,” the guy said. “I just hold the wand up to the jets, it records the force of them. Makes sure they’re strong enough. Sorry, I can come back later. Didn’t mean to intru...”
“It’s okay, you’re already here. I’ll just keep soaking, while you do.”
“If you don’t mind, you’re sure?”
“Okay,” the guy sort of bit his lips, and moved around the other side, now waist deep in the water, held the perforated with-holes-in-it metal wand to each of the spouting jet streams, checking the monitors on the box carefully. He gave a slanted grin towards Clark now and then.
Knowing he did have a slug of Kryptonite in one of the panels of the box, and the cock ring he was going to put on him. But wanted to see if he didn’t have to use it, could do this ... all on his own.
He tentatively held out one hand a moment. “I’m Jack,” he said. “Sorry,” again.
Clark shifted a tad to take his hand, genially, his upper body partially breaking the water.
“Wow,” the kid exclaimed. “You must be built as hell—those shoulders!”
Clark couldn’t suppress a grin. “Yeah, well.”
“You work out, must—a lot!”
“A little,” Clark demurred.
“Fuck, I’d like to get built like that. Damn, those arms, too!! You’re a real horse, man!”
“Thanks. I try.”
“I work out, too. But was always easy, natural to me. Like my cock....”
Clark couldn’t help it, he took in quick breath. He was suddenly as mellow as if he’d had a whole damn bottle of wine. The heat, the goodlooking, close-by naked blond, and thinking about how hung he’d seen he was. His mind was drifting a little hazily where it shouldn’t.
He swallowed, raised a hand to his chin, and rubbed distracted. This guy...
“Do you mind, if I—?” and the youth’s thigh was lightly up against his so suddenly, he didn’t know how it had happened. “I have to get close, check those jets right where you are,” leaning in almost against him.
“No, I—” and he was strangled.
The blond had quickly let go of the box, and with one deft hand slammed the heel of it hard under Clark’s chin, pushing him back, his other hand going deep down, into and under the water, grasping Clark’s soft, huge balls—dug in, and began to massage the center of them with his three fingers. The surprise of it ripped the superhero to his core, captured. “Unnhh-aaahhhh...!!” a trace of fluid rolled from the side of his mouth, trying to turn his head, get free of Jack’s hands. It was no use.
He was instantly disarmed, ensnared. Caught totally off-guard. His eyes widening, mouth O-ing, could only stare vacantly, helplessly, feeling the probing strong fingers take him—stimulating an electric rush throughout his brain, his sexual-centers, the sudden, out-of-control hormones raging, de-powering him completely, as his cock thickened, lengthened like lightning.
“Uhnnnhhh, uhnnnhhhh....” was all he could gasp, his muscles failing, useless to stop the assault, or free himself from the glorious, conquering hands.
“Ahh, you like that, do you?.” The blond’s smiling face into his, nose to nose. Kissed his quivering lips just a tiny bit. “Thought you would.... Man, have you got a set of hangers!”
“Thought so. With a monster cock, too. I thought I was hung—you’re already out of the water. Damn!”
Clark stammered. “Please, no. Don’t! Let me go... I, I, please! ” and found he was whimpering, afraid the young man would crush his balls if he resisted, could have, and he couldn’t have stopped him All he wanted to do was come . Come, now! Oh, fucking yes, COME !!!!!
How dare this kid! How could he so easily have defused him, taken his power from him, conquered him in a moment?! Nothing like this had ever happened, it just couldn’t!! Couldn’t be happening!! No way! His mouth slacked open, his eyes startled. He, the most powerful being in the universe. Now, a weakened puppy, the insistence in his brain, to come, come, come ! Erupt his seed at all costs: so quick, so powerfully, so now!! The kid had him.
“Wha—what are you going to do...?” he gasped. “Please! Release... me. You don’t know, who I am, what you’re doing!”
“Oh, yes, I do,” the blond whispered softly. “What you’ve ached for, a very long time,” he soothed. “I’m going to suck you dry. Fuck you till you can’t walk.”
“No , no!!” in pure panic, now. “You can’t. No, you can’t . I won’t let you—”
“But you want it so bad. Stop me.”
Glaring straight into Clark’s frightened blue-crystal eyes, with his empowered greens.
“N-no, no... you don’t understand , don’t know what you’re doing! Please, no!! ”
His one hand now moving to Clark’s near-bursting glans, swollen and bold, standing pink out of the water. Clark’s shaft was firing so much he thought he would die, or explode. Jack’s mouth traced the corona a moment, piercing the crown with his tongue deep into the slit. Clark writhed, shocked... moaned.
“But you know what, I want to see those mountain pecs of yours, man. Come on, show me. Up, up higher; out of the water, let me see....”
“No, let me go. No-nnooo..” Clark could hardly speak. Sensing, in terror, what was going to happen. Defeated, he obeyed, like a reprimanded schoolboy, lifting himself higher out of the water, leaning back on the tiles, so the youth could see him... gaze, worship with one hand, the mighty curves of his chest, the impossible protruding mounds, the huge juts of his larger than olive-sized nipples. He trembled in anticipation. Could already imagine, feel the youth’s lips on them, knowing he was going to be taken. His heartbeats pulse-ached within them, vibrant and strong, for the surge of his tit-milk to enter the boy’s mouth. Wanting him to take them so very much! Someone else! to nurture his man-breasts, other than himself... at long last!
“Wow. You’ve got everything,” the blond shook his head, entranced. He was still, with his other hand, caressing Clark’s balls, keeping him in check, powered down.
“Please, no...! What are you—please ...!” Clark was begging. Scared out his mind.
The blond said nothing. Released his balls, leaned into him. Both hands at his cheeks, and kissed him long and hard and deep. Clark thought he would faint; his own mouth avidly responding, a man coming in from the desert, dying of thirst. Then, slowly, the youth drew back, looked again, and lowered his mouth, took Clark’s throbbing nipples, one each at a time. Sucked in the already beginning-to-flow buds. Bit down hard on their thickness... was staggered in surprise as they exuded a clear, sweet nectar. Clark groaned, half man-screamed, mewled desperately, cradling the blond’s head close to his pecs in pure rapture. Fell back further, chest arcing up higher, higher, gurgling, the boy still chewing on him... and shot like a cannon, hardly able to breathe. But the blond was quick, and moved his mouth down and over the rich, rupturing spew of his glans. While Clark moaned crazily, “You can’t, you can’t—no, noooo, not my seed !! My seed! Oh, my God, my God! You’re taking my seed!”
“But you loved it, love it—”
“Yes, please. No, please, let me taste it—.”
“Like me. I do my own, too. Like you. Why?”
“I need it; you don’t know how much—.” More than frantic, not daring to be powered down any further, any longer.
“But we’re not done.”
“I know,” Clark whimpered. “My big nipples, suck them. Make me come again. Must—so hot! Have me on fire. Need you so, take me. Come again...” in a stupor.
“While I chew them, and fuck you... and suck you, too. I’m in.”
And his strong young member, still beneath the water, found, and penetrated up and into Clark, who cried out at his jolting largeness, (even though used to taking his own, much larger; it was the sudden thrust, not ready for him)... though he welcomed him with all his soul, knowing he was doomed. The youth had taken his seed, and was now mating him. He could not survive.
He was helpless, couldn’t stop it. Could not, though his life depended on it.
“You’re killing me,” he cried, “killing me!” the tears flowing from his eyes, in panic, in fear, in ecstasy. His hands knotted, in anguish, in heaven. Grasping deeply into the younger man’s hands, melding both of theirs into his. Being taken. His nipples bursting his juice. “Mating me, mating me...” he barely whispered. Then begging, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”
At last—a man with balls big enough to take him, had—had made him his own. It was irrevocable. The deed was done. Superman conquered, wings clipped, seed stolen, seed sown.
* * *
The kid continued to ravage his nipples, and Superman came three more times in succession, as the boy emptied his own semen into him, deep and warm, also twice in succession. Nobody had ever torqued him this strongly! Jack was enthralled.
Clark was trembling all over. They clung to each other in the water a very long time. Clark tried to stir, the kid was amazed at his sapped strength. He had to help and lift and pull and tug this huge mass of muscle up and out, and ease him back onto the warm tiles of the floor, or he might have drowned. The great muscleman was indeed out of breath, out of strength. It didn’t make sense.
Clark explained in his spurts, due to his make-up, they were now united, he was bound. Maybe the kid wouldn’t be—babbling; he had overpowered and taken him as his own, for life. Clark was his, he had to know some things... the youth was mystified. Who the hell had he fucked?
Then, it dawned on him like a bursting sun. Why the hell else had Luthor wanted him to “maybe” have to use Kryptonite?! It had to be! Fuck, he had just drilled Superman senseless! The Superman! Had conquered the most powerful man on the planet, and turned him into a sapless kitten. It blew his mind. And he’d done it just with his own instincts, his own ten-incher, taking down the mightier twelve. All those arms, pecs, nipples, shoulders, balls like a pair of overgrown peaches. This stud must have enough juice to breed an army. And he had grounded him!
Teasingly, he scanned the broad, labored chest of his prey, watching him breathe, admired the small tuck and ridges of his belly. They eyed each other dully, side by side. Then he rose up, bent forwards again, and once more sucked in the inert length of those astounding nipples. Testing them, savoring them. He could see the man was getting hard again, his body tensing, though he was barely conscious. He fed from them. Found suddenly he was getting rather high. God, the man’s nectar was potent. Made him half drunk. He wanted to jack his so- big cock off, see him come again, both of them at the same time. He did. They both blew geysers once more. Superman convulsed in his ejaculate, stirred mildly, curling into him, dazed out of his mind. But his eyes still blinked. Jack put his arms around him, but it was a feat almost not possible. Too big.
Now what? A shame this dude was to be handed over on a platter.
Really? Did he have to? Once delivered to Luthor, his prize would be more than definitely milked dry.... To literal extinction, probably. Lex had said he didn’t want to harm the man. Just play with his genetics, see what he could see? But could anyone trust Lex Luthor? Only a job was a job. Never realizing what the job was, had turned out to be. And he had earned his money now, still having carte blanche to play as he would.
In the meantime, he had three whole days to fuck this guy silly.
Oh, how he would!
Anyone who could come as much as this dude, and as often, was bound to peak the biggest E-ride in anybody’s park. And what a body to work on. Spectacular!
He closed his mouth over Superman’s, barely allowing him catch a bewildered, fresh breath. His huge companion tried to say, “Ohhh...” something, maybe kiss him. But Jack held back his big hands, seeking down over the wonder of his massive torso with his own, found his chunked balls... massaged them, felling the man into an instant deep sleep. Drained, drunk, powerless.
The stud was down.
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