Superman Harem Slave Chapter 6
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 Superman Harem Slave


Chapter 6 

  The Induction

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

            Karlesh – The master of records

            Sana’ – (Harem Queen Concubine)

            Abra – Servant to the concubine queen

            Haris – Chief Male Slave


Now Shareem and Abu returned to fetch their inductee.  

“You look like a new creation” said Shareem. “You almost look like a real slave, but we’ll take care of that this evening” he said slyly.

“You will make quite an impression” said Abu.  “There hasn’t been a slave as large and muscular as you for a few years.  There are a few already in the harem who resemble your physique, but they are a few years your senior.  The princess will appreciate this addition to her harem and breeding stock” he taunted.

It had been two days, maybe three, Su’zin reasoned, since his entry into this nightmare of human helplessness.  Had he known it had been nearly a fortnight, his despondency might have turned to despair. 

“Join his wrist cuffs!’ Shareem ordered.

After this procedure was finished, Abu said: “Su’zin, you are about to enter the service of the Prince Abdul and of his concubine, from this moment forward, your every desire, wish and action will be in complete obedience to his majesty and her majesty. Assume obeisance position!” 

The Superman hit the floor with a great thump.  He was a big man even without his super powers.  His forehead went to the floor his legs spayed out in either direction behind his knees.

“This is the position you will assume when we first take you to the mistress of the harem.  You will address her as ‘highness’ instead of mistress. Do you understand!” Abu barked as he kicked Su’zin in the side of his muscular haunches.

“Yes master!” came Su’zin’s muffled reply.

“Assume slave waiting position!”

Super-slave now arose from the floor and sat upon the balls of his feet with the toes extended outwards.  He thought it a most uncomfortable position but was told he would get used to it.  At this moment, both Shareem and Abu brought shiny gold appearing chains certainly thick enough to hold a adult male.  They were attached to both of his wrist cuffs and then a shorter one was attached to is collar but looped to a small hook above the leash attachment.

“Tonight you begin.  Do not disappoint us!  Make us proud of you!  Don’t make us have to bring you back for a ‘re-training’ course!”  As he said this he slapped Su’zin across the back as one might to one of his buddies after a ball game. 

Superman, unused to having any response to such a gesture was propelled forward and almost fell. “Yes Masters!  I won’t Masters” he choked as he recovered from his stumble.

The two trainers then hooked the super-slave to their own wrists and pulled forward giving the wordless sign for ahead.  Su’zin did not know where he next would find himself. 

Meanwhile, above in the lair of Prince Abdul, a lively conversation was continuing about the new harem slave.  Papers from several American papers had headlines “Superman Missing”.  Abdul smiled. 

“He’s not missing,” he spoke to the headline, “ he’s right where he’s supposed to be.  He not yours anymore–he’s mine!”

Abdul was being careful to avoid seeing Superman at this point.  The “reprogramming” of his brain, emotions and purposes was not yet complete.  He did not want to ‘jar’ the memory of the super being who they were trying to erase.  Tonight when the super-man entered into the harem for the first time another important component of the programming will have been accomplished.   He will have moved from playing a role to protect himself and his identity while vulnerable, to belonging to a whole new culture where the rules are different and he must conform to protect the others who will become his new slave ‘family’.

The Emir had been silent to this point, but Abdul could not count on that for long.  The Emir had put too much effort and money into bringing the Superman under his private control.  The Prince would continue to implement his plans which, should they be successful, would hide this Kryptonian super-being as though he had never been on the earth.  He would be Abdul’s pawn and should the occasion arise, Superman would re-emerge and establish Abdul’s clear supremacy over the Emirate and who knows what else!  The Prince was lost in his scheming and dreaming while the object of his desire was entering into a most ancient and secretive sub-culture that most of the world never knew had ever existed. 

Several levels below, the two slave trainers and the Man of Steel walked three abreast down a long corridor which became increasingly lush in its appearance.  Now polished flag stones covered with exquisite Persian rugs adorned both floors and walls.  Richly carved furnishings, many with gold polychroming flanked the walls and mirrors like windows gave a spacious feel to the windowless passage.  As the three muscular men passed, Superman could see his newly altered person for the first time.  He barely recognized himself!  Who was he now?  Without his friends, his job, his powers, he was a SLAVE.  Had something happened to Abdul?  If not, where was he? Did he know all of this that was happening?

Finally they reached a plaza-like area where several corridors converged under a large chandelier that gave off brilliant light.  In front of them were two great bronze doors with the symbol of Prince Abdul in the middle of the two.  Before them stood two large Nubian slaves in golden collars, golden arm bands, a golden circlet about their heads which held beneath it blue and scarlet veils that fell about their shoulders and very short blue and scarlet scarves about their waists held by a gold belt. 

Suddenly, two spears appeared from behind them and were crossed over the portal. 

“What is this place” whispered Clark of Kansas almost without thinking.

“This my muscle bound slave is your future.  This is the Harem of Abdul. Now you enter to serve.” said Shareem.

“Who would come to this sacred place!” said one of the Nubians.

“Abu and Shareem of the service of Prince Abdul.  We bring a new gift to her majesty from Abdul the Prince of this Kingdom, both your Master and mine.  We entreat you, in the name of his majesty,  to open the way for our service to be received by her majesty of the realm” said Shareem as the ‘voice’ of Abdul in this matter.

The Nubians bowed deeply and slowly and almost imperceptibly the emblem of Abdul began to separate and the great doors parted. 

Within was a staircase that went up, then split to the right and to the left then up to another landing.  They proceeded up one side on the long stairs until at the top Superman saw an extraordinary sight.  He saw a grand chamber with couches, seating, eating areas all in typical Middle Eastern style.  Long shafts of light from the sun, seemingly from deeply set windows illuminated the chamber.  In the center was a long reflecting pool.  At the end of the pool sat an incredibly beautiful woman arrayed in exquisite attire, yet very sensuous and erotic.  Superman had almost forgotten his nakedness until he beheld this sight!  In typical male fashion, his ample member began to stir.

They entered into the chamber and all eyes were on the three men.  Around the sides were male slaves either standing in waiting or seated at the feet, many being petting like animals, beside innumerable beautiful and sensuously dressed women of many ethnic varieties. There were also a lesser number of males who were sumptuously attired.  Other males slaves sat by them at their beck and call and were attentive like dogs by the males’ calves.

A call to attention came from a great gong on the side and everyone stopped their conversation.

They brought the Man of Steel before the dais of the Queen of the Harem and stopped.  Superman now stood in the middle of a small platform about fifty feet in circumference.  Some seven steps above him sat his new Master’s concubine.  He immediately went into the position of obeisance.  Both trainers proudly smiled as they hooked his chains to two sunken iron pillars that rose from the floor on either side of the suppliant Man of Steel. Then, they themselves bowed deeply to the powerful extension of royalty that hovered above them.

“Your highness–this is the new slave that His Majesty has brought to the service of the Royal Harem,” said Shareem.

“Ah!” she said appreciatively.  “A male among males.  Who is he?”.

Abu said with a touch of derision in his demeanor: “he is an American, captured while trespassing in our land without authorization or identification.”

“An American!” she cooed, gazing down upon the broad shoulders and dark hair of the new harem stud.  “This will be amusing. Tell me more.”

“He has been thoroughly trained for the basic obedience uses, however the extended usages will need to be taught before he is used as a pleasure slave in any capacity,” said Abu.

“Let me look at him,” she said.

“Slave!  Display!” said Abu, obviously taking charge of this exhibition.

The suppliant superhero rose to his haunches then to a kneeling position with knees wide spread and heels together.  She put her hand on his face.  Her hand was a soft as a feather, but now, so was his face with no traces that he had ever had any hair growth at all.

“So, he’s a nice big boy!” she remarked looking at his nearly erect member.

Superman blushed again.  Then she moved her hands through his hair.

“So beautiful!” she said and continued her assaulting inspection of her new property.  She felt his hard and defined deltoids, then biceps and triceps.  Moving to the rear, she felt the hard musculature of his perfectly V-shaped back.  She actually knelt behind him to inspect his shapely buttocks and ran her hand inside of the joining of his legs and slightly inside to fondle his pendulous testicles with a slight caress on the lower underside of his now completely turgid penis.  His calves were touched and finally again from the front she roughly grabbed the rod of his manhood.  He winced.

“A bit sensitive slave? Ehh?  I thought that you Americans were so tough.  You’ve even got that flying clown to do your bidding, though I hear he’s not called in lately” she laughed.

He looked down.  “If she only knew, “ he thought. 

“Well, at some point you should make a fine slave!  You certainly will catch the eye.  I’ve not seen muscle definition like that since we had that Olympic athlete and that prize-winning body-builder. No doubt they have fine lives now as pleasure slaves of those two sheiks!” she said.  “You should do so well.”

“Stay focused,” he kept telling himself.  “No words–no movement”. 

“He’s awfully quiet” she said as she put her finger to her lips toward the two trainers.  Suddenly, she kicked him in the balls.  His lungs exploded in the loss of air and the expression of pain as he collapsed to the floor landing on his left shoulder and cheek. 

“Proceed!” she commanded. 

Superman could not move sideways, only forward or backward.  As he struggled to re-assume the ‘display’ pose, a shimmering round golden cloth was brought over.  It was round and woven into it’s fabric was the design of Abdul in darker colored thread.  Two slight male slaves were carrying it.  They appeared almost as women with their femininity contrast with the man of steel’s masculinity.  As he knelt there, his member now flagging and moving side to side, they cast the cloth over his head.  It was completely circular with only a woven circle collar at the top. 

“What could this mean?” he asked himself.   He was now covered all but his jutting calves and feet as well as the pronounced bulge at the front of his body.  One of the slaves quickly flicked the material and only the tenting manhood of Superman could be perceived at his front.

A quick blaring of trumpets sounded.  She again took the throne and said: “I Sana’, concubine to Abdul do now claim and induct this slave into the service of the harem order and the and the ancient arts of pleasure!” she said.

“Name this slave!” she said with authority.

“We name him Su’zin by Abdul his Master.”

“Su’zin!  Now receive the new life as you become the possession you are!”

Now the two slight and effeminate slaves, took out scissors.  From either side of his head, they straddled his shoulders and arms.  He could feel their thonged penises pressing into him Then they began to cut.  The jet black tresses he had worn with only a trim since boyhood now began to fall like black blotches onto the golden cloth sliding down it’s slick texture to pool near it’s edges.  After the first cutting, they then took razor-like implements and took off more of the beautiful defining crown on the head of America’s first citizen.  Then, the familiar sound.  Small but effective clippers of some sort were run over his nearly depleted scalp until all that remained was a dark defining area where his handsome fur had only moments ago set off his rugged and beautiful face. Now, other small and effeminate slave scurried in and swept up all of the hair from the golden cloth. One slave held a crystal case, square shaped with hinged top.  The slaves carefully put all of the remnants of Superman’s thick head of hair, into the box and placed it at the foot of the stairs.  Then they surrounded Superman and raised the cloth on all sides and it moved almost effortlessly over his head.  They then in unity, moved the canopy-like effect over his body and out of the chamber. 

Now, two very young women slaves came in and from a metal canister, took out a small brush.  It was a shaving brush!   They quickly applied the warm and creamy ointment to his head.  He recognized the smell!  It was the depilatory that had been used all over his now hairless body!

“Don’t forget his brows!” whispered Shareem.

The two young girls stoically continued their work.  There was a pause.  Several exotically clad but completely revealed lean and athletic slaves now brought in differing accouterments made of metals while on either side of the reflecting pool, in two rows standing facing one another across the clear water stood the other male slaves.  They were preparing to receive the new member of their number. 

After all of this was concluded, the young maiden slaves returned to either side of the Man of Steel and began to shave with golden razors the reminder of his ebony locks. 

While all of this was going on, Superman tried to remain stoic as the young girls, but finally as the cream was shaved from his head, he could no longer control his emotions and tears began to well up and make their way down his anguished face.  His identity had been taken.  His head of hair had always been somewhat of a point of vanity with him.  It set off his sparkling blue eyes.  Even hiding his identity at Smallville High, the girls talked about his very hot looks accentuated by the modest waves in his think locks.  All gone–erased–his memories fading as quickly as the hair vanished from his formerly movie-star profile. The maidens concluded by taking moist cloths, warm and scented and wiping the cream from the head of the one-time nearly universally recognizable hunk.  As they moved from his side, the other male slaves, both intact and eunuchs moved in a wave toward the kneeling and sniffling muscle bound male. 

As they formed a circle, three-slaves deep around him, his chains were detached from his wrists and ankles.  Several ones appointed to do so began to anoint him with ceremonial oils.  The Man of Steel began to tremble. Then shake while the surrounding slaved males continued to “own” him as one of their brothers.  The chiseled physique of the super-male was now shining with oils, his denuded head showing no trace of hair, his muscles turgid with blood to perfection.  Then he broke. 

Loud sobs broke from the breast of the Kryptonian Lord of the planet Earth.  Something deep inside him had snapped. (He of course did not know that he was being fed doses of psycho-manipulative drugs along with the severe doses of sexual stimulants.)  Such a enormous burst of emotional sensations had never before wracked the Kryptonian mind! 

To his side came a large Mediterranean male whose musculature rivaled his own.

“Su’zin” he softly spoke, placing his large hand on the shoulder of the broken superhero, “ I am Haris.  I am the Chief of the Slaves of this Harem.  I am your head, your family and your friend.  Let your weeping be brief now.  Later you may grieve in the presence of your brothers.” 

The heaving sobs of the man formerly called Superman, continued to wrack his stomach and chest as he struggled to regain his breath. Tears streamed down the handsome face.  Heaving breaths remained. 

Haris continued: “you must now take the crystal box with your denuded hair gift and naked, crawl upon your knees to the top of the stairs and offer the box to her majesty, lifting it above your head. When she takes it from your hands, as you look down and raise the box to her, you will be a slave of this harem.” 

Su’zin struggled to regain some composure.  The scene was bizarre as the great man humbled like a beaten teenaged boy, shuffled on his knees to the lowest step of the dais.  He picked up the box of crystal that contained all that was left of the hair on his body and picked it up.   Looking only at the stairs, he began the laborious process of ascending the stairs to the level upon which the throne stood. 

As he reached the ancient tile mosaic before the feet of her majesty Sana’, trying desperately to contain himself, he did his best to make obeisance and raised the symbol of his freedom as a male in Arab society and felt it taken from his shaking hands.  Then the soft and delicate hands grasped his hands and raised him up to a full kneeling/standing position.  His face still looking down was suddenly taken into the delicate hand of the Concubine.   She raised his eyes to her own. 

“Precious boy” she smiled.  “Do not weep, you are at home, this is your family and you have purpose here.”  She stroked the side of his face with her other hand and stroked his barren scalp with her other.  “Your body is mine.  Your thoughts are mine.  Your work is mine.  Your pleasure is mine.” 

She rubbed his left nipple into erection with her right hand. 

“Abra!” bring the instrument! She said. 

From behind the throne stepped a beautifully clad woman with a strange device in her hands.  From behind, he felt the hands of two large male slaves who stood and gripped his bulging shoulders. 

Abra reached down as the Concubine Queen release his now pointed nipple. Abra grasped the point and suddenly Superman felt a sharp pain.

“Ah!” he gasped as the males grabbed his shoulders fully.  From the edge of his eye he saw a golden ring with adornments now hanging from his nipple. 

“Sana’” said, now you bear pain in your breast as women do.

Abra had disappeared but now returned. 

The male slaves now pulled him backwards so that his dangling member was thrust forward toward the Queen.  She moved down to her knees and grasped the super-penis.  Abra moved forward and reaching under the pendulous scrotum of the super-man, she pulled a golden ring around the base of his sexual organs.  He could feel tiny teeth facing outwards toward the Queen’s hand, still holding his penis head in her soft hand. He prayed he would not grow erect.  With a tiny key she turned a deeply internal lock in the cuff and his organs were tightly bound next to his body. 

“This is your obedience ring”, Su’zin.  “Freemen do not bind their organs.  Slaves collar them for they are controlled by others.” 

Then a strange woven metal device was fitted over the his cock head and shaft.  He had never seen anything like this!  As it was fitted closer to his groin, he lost sight of the proceedings gazing upward at the two massive muscular males who held him. He noticed that they wore scant red scarves circled around their waists.  He could see their organs poking at the sleek material.  And then he felt the two implements at his groin come together and become one.  The head of his penis still felt nearly free, but the rest of his organ was securely bound. 

“This is your reminder that you use these organs with my permission.  This is your pleasure cuff.  You will not wear it forever, but for a time until you are trained to be a pleasure slave, which is your destiny” concluded his queen. 

The male slaves abruptly pulled him erect. As he looked down between his glistening, muscular thighs, he beheld his pride and joy, bound to the root with a cage-like device throughout which the skin of his man-root could be seen at intervals.  It also was apparently locked by some ancient keyed device.  The head of his penis produced somewhat from the end with only two strong meshed pieces of metal at a cross design just at the point of the tip. 

Again Sana’ took his face in her hands and moved her forefinger between his lips and as he opened his mouth, she moved to his tongue and more deeply into his mouth. 

“Suck it” she said.  And the Man of Steel on his knees before an Arab woman closed his eyes and sucked as a child might his mother’s breast.

 (End of Chapter 6)



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