This story probably was from the Yahoo’s group of  Superman Erotic Stories. I saved 8 parts hiope you enjoy it. One of the chapters mention it was written By Msclvir based on a plot by Mikechesty

He had been taken out… defeated!  What had happened he had no idea, but suddenly as he was surveying the hostile Arabian territory, enemies of the US and of the United Nations, he had felt weakness–dizziness–then he was falling!  He had become frightened, unable to maneuver in such a free fall!  Him!  Superman–but he did not know how high up he was or how fast he was flying or falling.The weakness he felt could only mean one thing, he had been rendered vulnerable.The question was, “how human was his weakness at this point?  Could he be killed as an ordinary human or was the debilitation in his power only limited to his flying?”All of these thoughts rushing through his brain as he continued his whirling descent from the clouds.

He would know the answer soon enough.The weakness had been gradual.That was why even as he hit the ground with an enormous stir of dirt and debris, he was nevertheless ALIVE!. He sustained several tender places in his muscles, he believed he was bruised–a new sensation to his experience.

Was it kryptonite in some form?He thought that he had seen some rays with his ultraviolet vision, but no one had ever harnessed kryptonite to such a mechanism.That is probably why he took little notice.But this must be either a new form of the kryptonite or some other chink discovered in hi armor.He was helpless.He had scuff marks on his face and hands with some blood.He was in hostile territory and he was not wearing the clothing of the populace!His brightly colored red and blue suit, accented with the gold of the royals of Krypton was highly visible.Unless this was some natural phenomenon, then he had been seen and would be hunted for.He was desperate!

Superman seemed to remember a prince “Abdul” whom he had met at one of the International Oil Cartel meetings while he was with the President of the United State’s body guard.  He was such a well known figure even among the Arab world and had done so many things to aid each of the countries in the Cartel that he was a regular celebrity among each sovereign nation. Prince Abdul had particularly occupied Superman’s time.  He did not seem to be as fanatical or as militant toward the West as many of his brother Arabs and their nations.  If he was remembering clearly enough, he believes that the Palace of Prince Abdul could not be more than a ten or twenty mile walk.  The dazed super-hero decides to find some place to hide, sleep and hopefully recover some of his physical strength, if not his powers so he ducks into some cave-like place of refuge until sundown.

At some point after sundown, Superman awoke and began the careful walk toward the co-ordinance where his Kryptonian “sixth sense” told him the Prince might be found. At some point around daybreak, he saw the outline of the battlements.  As the sun streamed out of the sky, he recognized the familiar insignia of the family of Prince Abdul.  Superman watched for some time until the morning activities had subsided.  At last, he made his move toward the palace gate. 

“Salem” Superman said in his best Arabic at about a hundred feet from the main gate.  The startled guard, a younger muscular and handsome Arab spun around. 

“Superman!” The young man said with a heavy Arab accent.  “Not to worry young man” replied the Super-hero.“I was in the area and your Prince Abdul had extended his invitation to me to visit should I ever be near by”. 

“I will alert the Prince at once sir” said the now seemingly anxious lad.“Please wait here and I will return in just a moment!”  “He hesitated for a moment: “but Superman, why did you not fly in as I have seen you on the television?”

Superman thinking quickly said: “I didn’t want to startle you too much nor attract anyone to the fact that I was coming by.”

The guard, seemingly satisfied with the response, proceeded within the palace wall.

“Nice enough young man” thought the Super-hero.“ Wonder if he picks his staff for their physical attributes?” thought the Man of Steel as he tapped his lips while watching the handsome young soldier from the rear as he walked away.  In moments, the guard with  the Prince himself rushed out.

“Superman!  Friend!”  “How wonderful to see you!”  “What brings you here?” says the heavily and richly robed Prince Abdul amidst much bowing and weaving as is the custom in the East.

“My dear Prince” said the Man of Steel, I have been doing surveillance and could not help but remember our most pleasant conversation at the meeting of the Cartel last year.  I simply wanted to take you up on your invitation for a short visit to your hospitable palace.”

“Please do come in!” said Prince Abdul as he ushered him into the inner quarters of the Medieval Palace, now wonderfully refurbished with every modern convenience.   As they entered and were afforded some privacy, the Man of Steel says very quietly: “there is a matter of some urgency that I must speak to you about immediately!  Could be have some privacy?” 

“Certainly” said the Prince, “just a moment.“  ”’Sha-Rim’” please bring some food and drink for our guest, but place them in the outer chamber.  Superman and I are going to speak privately in my sitting room.”

“Yes Master” said the slightly clad youth whose gold gauntlets on both wrists and ankles as well as collared with the necklace worn by the slaves of the Prince glinted in the Arabian sunlight as he scurried to get the requested fare for Superman and the Prince.

“So what can I really do for you Superman?” asks the Prince?  Prince Abdul was very fond of the Western ways and even wore Western styles of footwear and clothing upon occasion.  He was in his early thirties, heir to a huge family fortune with billions in oil reserves. He also kept himself very fit and muscular,  looked much the type of a virile, handsome mid-eastern male model from the loosely clad tunic that he wore, exposing his smooth and robust chest muscles, the cleft between his pectorals twitching as he spoke.  His manner was somewhat scandalous to some of the other Arab Sheiks. 

 “I am in a bit of trouble” said the Son of Krypton. 

“You?” feigned Abdul, “how could you be in trouble?”

“I am not sure how it happened, but while I was flying over the ‘territories’ I felt very weak and fell from the sky.  After I landed, the rest of my powers seemed to dissipate.  Now I am powerless and need to find refuge.”

At that moment, one of the other young and muscular servants, clad in a vest and loin cloth, collared with gauntlets,  knocked at the door. 

“Master!” the Militia is here! 

“Find out what they want” said Abdul, “then return here as soon as possible!”

“Yes my Master,” said the slave bowing and scurrying to do his Master’s bidding.

Abdul looked flushed and worried: “Superman, I fear they are here for you!  There was word sent out yesterday of your being sighted with some  ‘mishap’ and all of the ‘loyal to our religion” were asked to report if they should see you.”

“Let me call in my minister–he is aware of these developments and can offer us counsel and we need counsel quickly!”

“Is he trustworthy? Are you sure?”

“Of course!” Replied the Prince.  “How could you doubt?”

“Yes then, please do and hurry!” said the now increasingly anxious Superman.  What would he do if he had no place of refuge?  He did not know if his powers would return.  If one of the Arabs had a weapon that had taken them away this long, could they not take them away again and again?

In minutes, a young and swarthy looking man dressed in very expensive looking robes came in with the Prince.  

“Superman!” he said in a robust and masculine tone, “there is no mistaking you anywhere on this planet, especially in your uniform!  Welcome to ‘Shad-arra’! “

“Thank you minister!  I am most grateful for your help in these hopefully temporary set-backs in my mission to help all of the nations of the world to live in peace!” said the now more assured Superman. 

“What can I do to escape those who would do me harm until I can figure out how to get myself back to one hundred percent or at least back to the US?”

“The minister had a thought, although you might not be at first inclined to it.” said Abdul.

“What is it?  Anything” said the increasingly distraught Superman.

“He suggests you hide in the Harem” said Abdul.

“The Harem?” said the puzzled Superhero. “ Do they still have those?”

“Indeed!” laughed the Prince. “Some have both male harems and female.”  “I confine myself to the female slaves,” he finished.

“But how would that hide me?”Asked the confused Superhero.

“As a harem slave boy of course!” smiled the minister.

Superman looked at the minister as if he had been suddenly violated in some manner.  “And how would that help?” asked the now increasingly embarrassed looking Superman.

“Harems are sacred and personal places to our culture” said the Prince.  “It would be like invading my inner chambers to violate the Harem. They might look in from the outside or even have one or two members of the military guard walk into the chambers to look, but to invade, that could cause war.”

“What does a harem boy do?” asked Superman. 

“He guards the harem of course and services the women inside as their servants”, said the minister.

The only drawback for you is that you must don the garments of a harem slave and that I am afraid is only this white thong.”

Did Superman mistake it or did the minister have a slight smile as he said these pointed words.

“What!” said Superman!  “You want me to put that skimpy thing on?”  “No one outside of my doctors at Star labs and my parents has seen me without these colors since I became Superman! You must be kidding.!”

Just at that moment, there was gunfire outside in the courtyard.  The young slave rushed back in screaming “Master!” “They want to search the premises.  They will give you half of an hour or they will break down the doors.  There are too many of them for our house guards to resist!  What shall we do?”

“Indeed, what shall we do?” asked the minister, looking at the now very defeated looking Man of Steel.

“Give me the damn thong!” said the Super Man as he looked around for a place to change.

“Slaves out of here! Tell the soldiers that they may come in after I have prepared the chambers for their officers to come in as guests!” said Abdul with great authority.

Superman looked as if he had was going to be ill.  “Can’t I have some place to change?” he whimpered and won’t the servants tell that I am here?”

“No time my friend,” said the Prince.  “Besides, after you get that on, there will be nothing left to the imagination!” he smirked “and any slave who would violate my confidentiality would be castrated or killed or both”.  Abdul smiled.

Slowly, the marvel of the world began to strip off his familiar red cape.  He placed it in a tidy small  bundle that was usually hidden in his clothing.  Next came the boots, then the golden belt and then with some hesitation the blue skin-tight upper garment, bearing his familiar insignia uncovering a massive and chiseled, muscular chest. A light coating of black hair covered the upper torso while a pronounced trail of hair proceeded from his navel and plunged beneath the bulging trunks which covered his “pride and joy.”  His abdominals were so set off that they looked as if they had been carved. Lastly, he slowly as with some profound effort, pulled down his red trunks and blue tights with a single motion.  All that was left covering the envy of male kind and the desire of female kind was a very American looking pair of Calvin Klein half calf trunks.  All of this procedure was under the watchful eye of Abdul and his minister adding to the very heavy blushing of the Super-man.  They continued to watch intently.

“Oh come on guys!” said Superman under his breath and with one quick movement, removed his underwear and stood completely naked before the two robed Arab men. For a moment there was silence in the chamber as the two inferior men took in the sight of a human godlike being.  His rippling chest muscles–his tightly muscled buttocks and haunches.  His legs were a work of art in and of themselves. All was covered with a light coating of hair that only enhanced his masculine appearance.   Of course, the size of the sprouting super phallus and testicles was staggering, crowned with a large pubic bush.  Both of the Prince and his minister were left with their tongues tied and hanging from their mouths.  Very suddenly, they caught themselves and shook off their moment of awe.

The minister quickly gathered up Superman’s signature garments peering from the corner of his eye at the naked specimen and whisked them away. “I’ll keep these safely where no one can find them!”  Superman had never looked more miserable.

“Hurry Superman!  There is no time to waste! If they find you here I cannot protect you!” urged the Prince in a forced whisper. 

The Man of Steel now stumbled and very sheepishly put on a white thong garment that barely could contain his rather “super-sized” equipment. His muscular butt rippled as it was exposed framed in by  the thong now securely on his rippling body.   His body was indeed a work of art and masculine perfection. 

The minister now rushed back in and is taken aback at the sight of the sexy hero standing in the slave thong–he shakes himself out of his momentary stupor –“here are the other required appointments.”

In his hands were a couple of golden gauntlets for his wrists and two larger ones for his ankles, bejeweled and engraved with the emblems of the family of Abdul.  Added to this was a necklace, somewhat a collar in that it was bound on and could be used as a restraint, but also for decoration as all the Harem boys were used to wearing as symbols of ownership.  Superman looked on with dismay.  He really was going to look like a slave! His rippling muscular thighs began an unconscious closure as if he was trying to hide them. He snaps on the gauntlets and looks to the prince.  The prince smiles vaguely.

“Come over here Superman and let me put this last item on you before we scurry you off to the harem where you will be safe!” said Abdul. “You make quite a handsome slave!”  Superman glared.

The most powerful man ever to live on the earth now slowly went over to the prince, his mighty thighs and calves flexed as he slowly descended from his towering height and bowed before him so that Abdul could reach as high as his six foot four carriage to Abdul’s five foot seven height.

As the son of krypton now arose, he felt less a man and certainly no Superman!  Something was missing.  Was it his arrogant assured and confident jaw.  Was it possible that his high held head was now bowed a bit at the neck–perhaps his back slumped somewhat?

“Oh don’t look so dismal” said the minister, “at least you’re going to be alive!”  “Quickly, you must sign these papers of servitude so that we will have proof that you are indeed our family’s slave! We must have such papers on each Harem boy or we will be in violation of the law.  We only have a few more minutes! As an “unlearned slave” you would of course need only press your thumb-print to the bottom after placing it in this ink. Hurry!”

The Superman of earth now knelt down and placed his powerful thumb into the red ink and pressed it to the bottom of the Arab script, not knowing that he had just given up his legal rights and his complete freedom to the prince.

The Prince now gave one last work of warning: “now remember my American friend, it is only the two of us who know who you are.  It is best that you play the man and allow whatever comes your way to keep your security and your life intact.  You will now go to Azuz the slave-master.  I will go attend to the militia.  Some time after some of this has died down, I will bring you back to my presence, until then, to all except for the two of us, you are Suzin, my slave.”

“I’m sorry–it is just so humiliating and difficult for me to do this.  I mean no disrespect.  Thank you Abdul” for your help, said Superman. 

“Wait for a moment” said the minister.  “It would be best if you get used to calling everyone who has any authority ‘Master’ or ‘Mistress’. You wouldn’t want to blow your cover.”  The minister’s eyes glinted.

“No, I wouldn’t want to do that”… Superman suddenly realized the role he was going to be required to play.  With this realization, Superman took a deep breath and said “yes…Master.”

“Very good” said Abdul.  “Now go to Azuz and may he be gentle on you.”

He said these words without a smile. He turned and left the room.  Quickly two large six foot guards came in and pulled the Man of Steel to the deeper regions of the Palace.

End of Part One