Superman Harem Slave Chapter 4
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 Superman Harem Slave 


Chapter 4

 By Msclvir based on a plot by Mikechesty


List of characters 

           Su’zin-Superman slaved   


Osham- Chief Minister of Abdul 


Shareem-light slave trainer 

Abu-dark slave trainer

Rais-Captain of the Emir’s Guard 

Ra’id: Emir of Carbudali

           Wa’di – bath slave


Hours later, in a dimly lit room, Clark, now the slave, Su’zin began to wake.   He felt groggy, disoriented.  He could see nothing at first.  He had not yet begun to get accustomed to not having his super-seeing powers.  “So this is what they mean when they joke about men getting out of bed in the morning” he thought.  Of course, he had no idea if it was morning or night.  He was in a room with no windows and only one door.  There was a small toilet, sink and shower facility in the corner, not unlike a hotel room, but the floors were of stone, highly polished with Persian rugs.  This was the place at which such resemblances ended.  The walls were of stone, the ceiling held up by large hewn timbers and it appeared that there was stone or some sort of poured concrete for a ceiling.  The only light seeped under the door of the room.  He was thirsty.

He was also in pain.  Pain!  He had rarely felt much of it in his day.  Only the most extreme feats had attempted had brought it about.  Usually this was when he was subjected to periods without the sunlight or periods, such as in dealing with severe nuclear exposure, when his Kryptonian powers were drained like over-taxed batteries.  But now, he was sore all over.  His dick was numb yet aching.   His rotator cuffs felt as though his arms had been pulled out of their sockets.  His groin muscles as if his inner thigh muscles had been nearly torn by stretching.  Then added to this pain was his rear-end.  When Azuz had finished with him, he had been nearly raw, near to bleeding on his normally stone-hard ass.  Now he felt a dull ache, soreness–it was painful to lay upon the exquisite complement to his back-side.   And he felt hunger!  Hunger like he had never known it.  For some reason, his Kryptonian makeup had allowed him to run on the solar-super-energy without “needing” to be fed human food for long periods of time.  Now it was different.  He felt a twisting in his abdomen.  He heard his stomach growl.  He was still naked.

He felt cold.  A thin sheet covered the bed.  It was woven of some fabric with which he was not familiar.  It was soft, he kept out the draft of the high ceilinged room.  But it was thin, almost translucent.  Little was left to the imagination when it covered his long muscular physique.  He had never realized how much body hair would add to the warmth of the body.  The cot or bed was low to the ground and would not contain all of his towering height.  His lower calves and feet hung off the end of it.  He was frightened.

It had only been possibly two days now since he fell from the sky.  The world would not yet be missing him.  No one kept tabs on his comings and goings.  The closest thing to such an oversight would be the Daily Planet.  But unfortunately, he had taken a month of vacation he had a long time coming.  It was a “use or lose” situation.  So he had chosen to use it. It has been incidental that he had opted to do some Middle East surveillance on his time away.   He was screwed!

He did not know how long he had been there.  But after several hours, he began to pace the room. He finally found a small lamp that provided only enough light to read.  He found some things to read.  There were books in both Arabic and English.  Slave Obedience, one was called.  Slave Postures, was another.  Then, The Laws of Slavery.    After several more hours, having nothing to do, he wrapped the sheet around his body and began to read.  After the first book, he began to shout for someone to come, but no one did.  He pounded on the door with his now human fist.  After a while, that hurt, so he sat down and began to read the second book.  Now he was really hungry.  He was feeling a bit faint.  His eyesight a bit fuzzy.  He did not know what it was to grow faint from  hunger.  Eventually he lay down, wrapped in the sheet and passed out.

While he was unconscious, the Prince came in to survey his prize first hand. He slowly unwrapped the man of men, for the first time seeing his flawless physique and virile essence.  “He is a god!” said Prince Abdul under his breath. He could not believe that he had pulled this off this far.  He grinned with mischievous glee like some young boy who had outsmarted his elders.   He ran his hands over the torso and abdomen of his new possession.  He felt the hardness of muscle in the powerful thighs. He finally examined the very flaccid organ at the groin of the ultimate man. Moving his hands over the now denuded groin, he felt the smoothness of the barren crotch and testicles.  He knew Superman would be devastated were he in his right mind. 

“I have plans for you my beauty..plans indeed!” Abdul smiled and silently left the room with the man of steel in darkness.

Superman woke slowly the following day. He raised his noble head from the raised pallet that served as his bed.

”Wha?…Where…? Uggh!”

His head, too heavy to be borne so early by his strained neck muscles, fell back to the place it had fallen the night before. He felt so weak. So groggy…so tired! He was too new to this ““extended”” experience of human weakness that he did not realize what food deprivation can do to a person. The room was dark with only a slit where light peeped under the door. Where was he? He couldn’t remember. Everything was fuzzy. A mission? Yes ! A mission…checking the Arabian states over. Falling…falling ! Fear, uncertainty, pain. Where was he? Yes, the Prince! The Prince, his hope against hope! Then everything…black… He was cold. He felt the silk, at least it felt like silk which covered him. It moved smoothly over his now completely barren skin. It gave him a stimulation of the most sensuous kind. It did not keep him adequately warm but moved sensuously over every part of his body that it touched. The shaven limbs whose thick black hair had helped ward off the cold, could no longer help him. The fur on his chest now removed allowed a coolness that he had never experienced and the sheet did not provide any warmth. His legs, now smooth as any woman’’s shaved felt strange as he moved his hands over his thighs. They did not feel as though they belonged to him!

His X-ray longer there–heat vision..not there. Superman did not realized that on top of whatever had taken from him the powers that gave him identity and purpose in life, he had also been drugged with an ancient middle eastern potion to make him highly subject to brainwashing and very forgetful of his past. It was in effect a memory eraser. It was used by the ancient Sultans to bring captured peoples who were to be used a fodder for service of the Sultanate’s. Great soldiers, stripped of their armor and weapons became like children, easily molded to the will of their new masters. Women, full of self-will and vanity, became like the youngest of maidens and were otherwise, turned into harem girls or palace slaves. Superman, having a differing bodily composition from that of the human race, nevertheless was not un-affected by the serum designed to bring him under the permanent domination of the Prince.

“Thirsty” whispered the super hero. “Must have water!”

In the dim lighting, he thought he saw something like a low trough like a small sink of steel only it was about 18 inches off the floor. No faucet––no cup of any kind that he could see in this near darkness. He eased himself to floor and crawled on his hands and knees toward the object, hoping against hope that he would find water there.

“Water!” he breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared to fill from a receptacle which could not be controlled from within the room. It was very shallow pool about 18 inches wide and circular. It was only about two inches deep. At first trying to scoop with his hands, he found that he could not get an adequate amount of water to soothe his raging thirst. Finally giving up, he plunged his whole face into the water and began to drink as some beast might at the edge of a lake. Of course, by Abdul’s direction, this was laced with the potion as well.


Finally, his thirst assuaged, the Man of Steel crawled back to the place he had lain earlier and again fell into a restless daze.  

Meanwhile, several levels above him in the palace, Prince Abdul and his chief minister Osham were plotting the future.

“My Prince,” said Osham, “what are you planning to do with the ‘new slave’?”

“Ha” the Prince softly chuckled, “use him for my pleasure, whatever that may be, and what purpose that may serve.”

“But what of Emir Ra’id? Do you think his guard will return again? Did the answers we gave satisfy his curiosity?” said Osham.

“Of course not Osham! The Emir will regroup, re-evaluate and again mount a search. It will soon become apparent to the world that Superman is missing. As his body was not found dead or injured in the desert, he can only suppose some other person has him in their possession. I may not be the first stop on his list, but he will come again. You can be sure of it. We must be more cunning than he. Indeed..we will be” the Prince said with a smile. ““Now, we must use the fullest of our ancient techniques to see if this alien will bend to our will and lose his own. See to it!”

“I am at your command my Prince”” said Osham as he bowed deeply and left the room.

After three days of darkness, sleepless nights, food deprivation and receiving the elixir in his water supply, Superman was awakened by the sound of a key in the lock on the outside of the door. He was facing the wall so as he raised his head and turned it toward the other corner of the room he heard a gruff familiar voice, the voice of Abu.

“Get up slave! You’’ve got a big day ahead of you! Your training must continue before your induction as a legal harem slave! Up! You oaf! “

Clark (or was it Superman?), still fuzzy in the head and feeling weak, startled at being yelled at, turned suddenly and found himself falling the 18 inches to the floor of the cell, tangled in the sheet that had been his only source of warmth and comfort for three days. ( of course, he had no idea how long it had been!)

“Oooowwwhhh!” Clark yelped. “You idiot!”” laughed Abu. ““Get up!    Shareem! Get in here with those shackles!”” The muscular Arab with the lighter hair, walked into the room. Well, he looks none the worse for wear!”” said Shareem.

“Water…food…pleeeaaasssee” weakly pled the Kryptonian captive.

“Soon enough slave, but you have a couple of other things to go through before that can happen. First to the baths, the toilet and then to the training sessions. After that…if you do well…food.”” said Shareem.

He pulled out a small whip with several short but menacing looking straps on it. Then suddenly, he snapped it in the air. It made a sharp popping sound.

“Now go! Make to your left as you leave this room! March slave!”

He clipped a strong chain that locked onto the ring of the super hero’s slave collar and pulled him forward with the six or eight feet of chain like the animal they were training him to be..

As Clark of Smallville went into the light in the corridor, his eyes winced at the first exposure to real light for several days. He was blinded at first, his eyes responding as a human being might after several days of light deprivation.  He stumbled on the uneven floor but caught himself although the chain caused him briefly to choke and cough gasping for air.  Already, his erect stance was beginning to be less stalwart and have less bravado.  He was beginning to look like the Clark Kent of Smallville High–a role he had played successfully for much of his life on this planet.  Only this time, the role was a real-life experience.  With no resistance, he allowed himself to be led down another fight of stone steps to an area with flagstones made smooth by centuries of  scrubbing and the treading of many feet.  It was the baths.  He was led into one of the chambers where a hot pool of water was steaming.

“Now step down those stairs while I call a bath slave!” barked Shareem.

“Wa’di” yelled Abu, “here–NOW–you have a job to do on this new slave.”

The young brown skinned slave-boy walked into the bath area.  He was naked except for his collar, cuffs and a small chained leather thong about him.

“Yes Masters?” he lowered his eyes and bowed to the two trainers.

“Clean this slave and then return him to us for training.  We must have him ready for his induction this evening, “said Abu.

“Yes Masters!” said the trembling youth.“What is he called?”

“Su’zin is the name the Prince has given him” said Shareem.

“Slave Su’zin!  Please step down into the pool and sit on the edge!  Quickly slave!” said Wa’di

Beginning to grow accustomed to obeying orders, the still fuzzy-headed hero stepped into the warm pool.  Wa’di began to soap his muscular thighs working down to his stone hard calves and finally, lifted his feet out of the water and washed each of them, cleaning carefully between the toes.  He then ordered Superman to lay on the side shelf that ran about the lip of the pool.  Again he soaped each chiseled arm, cleaning the arm-pits then washing the rack of impressive pectorals, abdomen and then lifting the large penis cleaned carefully around the nearly healed stitches, healed no doubt because of the Kryptonian’s quick restorative powers. The hero’s dick responded immediately.  The two trainers smiled–the aphrodisiac was already working. Lifting the large scrotum, he washed the sack carefully.  Finally, he asked Superman to turn over.  The now slightly erect son of Krypton, obediently turned onto his stomach and allowed Wa’di to wash his back and then between the large beautiful globes that aroused millions toward lust on the rare occasion they became visible under his red cape.

“Now Su’zin, turn with your elbows out and your hands together and raise yourself up on the shelf facing outside the pool” said the very competent and business-like young slave.

Again, the Man of Steel, turned and raised himself from the stomach up onto the side of the pool.

Wa’di then said, “this will be a little uncomfortable, but simply stay still.  If necessary, I will have to chain you by your collar and cuffs to the side.”

Clark Kent braced himself.  What a situation he was in!  He was beginning to wonder how far this would go before the Prince rescued him.  For now, he must simply bear all of this and bear it with pain hoping that at some point his super strength and invulnerability would return.

Wa’di took a clear hose attached to a pressurized glass vat, covered it with a very thick gooey substance and brought it to the entrance of Superman’s nether regions.

“Take a deep breath and relax your bowels” said Wa’di.   Then he pressed upon Superman’s hole.

“EEEEEeeeeehhhhhh… ooohhhh…. ssssssss… hhhhaaa… owwwwwwwwww… aaaaaaaaaa..”

Sounds of pain and pleasure were evoked from the superhero until finally Wa’di stopped the pressure.  The tube was in his bowels.

“Now just hold it like you were trying to grip it with your hole,” Wa’di said.  Then he began to release the fluid from within the vat.  It was warm and began filling him.  Superman had never had anything like this nor anything in his ass at all!  Slowly he was filled with saline to clean, drugs to add to his training and keep him compliant and nutrients to replenish what a “human” krytonian would have lost due to a lack of food.  Finally, the fluid began to seep out of him.

“Are you ok Su’zin?” asked the bathing slave?

“It feels so full.  I am so uncomfortable!  What do you want me to do. Pleassssee hurry!” said a now distressed and embarrassed hero.

“Get up! You have to go over to that steel seat and sit, then just expel it all” said the slave anxiously.

The man of steel, gingerly stepped out of the pool and hobbled his way over to a steel toilet seat device.  At this point, he was beyond concerns for privacy.  This was an emergency!

As waves of relief hit him, his very reddened face began to take on a pallor of normalcy again.  After about five minutes, suddenly warm water sprayed up from within the device and rinsed him clean.

“Now, into the shower chamber and be quick about it.  The trainers will be back any minute,” said the bath slave.

Superman never liked to inconvenience anyone or get anyone in trouble so if anything by force of habit, he raised himself from the steel toilet seat and stumbled toward the doorway where Wa’di was directing him.  Once inside, Wa’di turned on the showers and took another device which looked like a steel flexible tube.

“Bend over” he saids. 

The muscular Kryptonian leaned over, nearly falling as the blood rushed to his head while Wa’di inserted the smooth end of the hose into his rectum. 

“This is a final rinsing.  You can spew this water out on the floor here” he said.

With as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances, the strongest man on earth stood up and spewed the now clean water from his newly cleansed bowels.  After several times, Wa’di finally relented.

“Now let us get you dry and check all of the work to make sure your nails are trimmed and your hair appropriate.”  The slave led Superman into a warm room with moving air.  The Kryptonian sat up on a counter while he was examined, his nails trimmed, his hair evened out.  Without his super powers, a haircut was a piece of cake!  Finally finished, he was led back to the main chamber where Abu and Shareem were awaiting him.

“She cleans up rather nicely don’t you think Abu?” said the smirking Shareem.

“I’d love to give this bitch a tumble, but there’s no time now” scoffed Abu.

The Man of Steel gave a sigh of relief.  He was beginning to get his bearings and remember the details that got him to this place and situation.

“Now Su’zin!  Look sharp.  After an afternoon of introductory Harem Slave training, you will be inducted later this evening!  Hop to it!” said Abu, now ever business-like.

Wa’di gave the Kryptonian hunk a weak goodbye with the raise of his hand.  He looked sadly at the hunky stud he had just cleaned.  “Poor Su’zin.  This will not be an easy day to get through.  I hope you make it intact and unscarred” he thought to himself.

Superman, gripped on either side by the trainers was escorted out down a long stone paved hallway to a large set of iron gates behind which was the slave exercise and training court. 

“What next?”  thought the Man of Steel as he took a deep breath and gave a long sign. 

(End of Chapter 4)

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