Once Superman was through licking his boots clean, The Doctor commended his new super-slave for taking to his new duties so quickly, “Oh yes, you shall serve me well, my new recruit! Now rise and stand at attention alongside your fellow soldier-slave!”
Superman got up off the floor and the two mindless drones stood side by side, the private with his half hard cock hanging in front of him and the superhero still totally erect. They looked like a couple of stone statues, frozen in place, while they awaited their next orders.
“Private #01979, sorry to tell you this but it looks like you have just been demoted.” The doctor informs him. “You see, you have done such a fine job of training our new recruit here that I have decided to make him my second-in-command instead. Now, go back to your post.”
Like a mechanical toy soldier, the private walked away and took his place among the other soldier-slaves, leaving Superman standing there all by himself.
“Now that you have just been drafted into my army of evil, you will give me your name, rank and serial number, soldier-slave!,” the mad scientist said with authority.
“Sergeant … First … Class … #12594, … Sir. … “ Superman obediently responded in a slow, monotone voice, sounding just like the robot he had become.
“I said give me your NAME, rank and serial number, Sergeant!” The doctor requested again to test his reaction.
“Sergeant … First … Class … #12594… is … my … name … rank … and … serial number, … Sir!” Superman answered once again, since it was the only information his computerized brain could now retrieve.
The doctor quizzed him further, “Tell me, Sergeant … Have you ever heard of a world famous superhero who goes by the name of Superman?”
“Sorry, Sir … But I can find … no data … on any civilian … called Superman … in my memory banks, … Sir.” Superman respectfully replied, as it became quite obvious that his old name meant nothing to him anymore.
“Oh well, it doesn‘t really matter anymore, soldier. This Superman was just a casualty of war, that is all … a meddlesome superhero who had to be killed for a much greater cause. His death was unfortunate, I suppose, … but, if we are to defeat our enemies, then you have to expect some collateral damage along the way. Isn’t that right, sergeant?”
“Yes, … Sir!”
“Yes, Commander!” Dr. Sklavnmeister corrected his subordinate.
“Yes, … My Commander!” Superman repeated with a ting of reverence in his otherwise stolid, methodical voice.
“Good, my new recruit. Now return to the table!” the mad scientist commanded him.
Upon receiving his commander’s next order, Superman walked back over to the table, standing in the upright position. The superhero-bot stood in his proper place, then the table started to recline until it came to a horizontal position again and stopped.
The doctor then motioned for one of his lab assistants, who proceeded to attach a brand new piece of equipment on their prized patient‘s pecker. Once the mechanical masturbation device was fitted to Superman’s already rockhard cock, the doctor signaled to another one of his technicians to start it up. Soon the sucking motion of the computerized penis pump was extracting load after load from the throbbing dick of the aroused superhero-bot resting there quietly on the table.
Any cum collected from his latest guinea pig would be thoroughly tested and retested by his crack research team until Dr. Sklavnmeister finally develops a serum from this superhero’s sperm that, when injected into his other soldier-slaves, will give them all the same superpowers as Superman. Not only that, but if all goes according to plan, the doctor intends to use his rare alien DNA to create more Superman clones to serve under him. Then, with an entire army of Superman slaves, no one could possibly be able to stop this mad scientist’s dreams of world domination.
As Superman just lied there, allowing himself to be milked like a dumb animal, the triumphant doctor stood over his latest ‘creation’ and broke into a fiendish smile that stretched from ear to ear. Until this moment, a small part of him still doubted that his plan could come off without a hitch, that he could capture and convert such a strong and powerful individual as he. But it had worked though. And, oh, how well it had worked. The Man of Steel, once the most heralded superhero in the entire universe, had now become his obedient soldier-slave, programmed to serve and obey his new commanding officer for the rest of his life, not only on the battlefield … but in the bedroom as well. The submission and enslavement of Superman was at last complete.