The Murder of Clark Kent by Sockrob
Chapter 8: Examination Chapter 8b: Luthor pays for the best Defense
Dr Schnell stood bent over Superman’s disheveled and reddened face. He finished up with the drillwork and stepped back to admire his handiwork. Now a familiar green aura radiated from the hero’s dental dam opened orifice. The evil german doctor snidely remarked, in his thick germanic accent, “I love the new aura that you will now give off, every time you open your trap, Superfreak. A nice bright green radiance that will keep your alien attributes in check the rest of your stay here on our planet. Someone should have done that for you long time ago, to quench your goody-two-shoes attitude. The Earth has no place for aliens with superior powers, especially one who can’t handle those powers and uses them for murderous activities like yourself, Superman.” He laughed at the irony in his statements. Superman would not be using any type of alien super powers on earth anymore. Then the doctor added, “I’m just glad that Mr. luthor funded me and my group of scientist compatriots with enough to allow us to be able to research and develop tools tipped with remnants of your alien world’s ore. Because without that, I don’t believe that I would ever have been able to penetrate that alien enamel in your teeth, not to mention your kryptonian skin.” He held up the kryptonite tipped drill that he had used to embed the chip into Superman’s tooth. As the doctor returned the dental drill to the chair’s drawer, he boastfully took responsibility for the permanent revocation of Superman’s powers. Then Dr. Schnell snatched the still spit-soaked black nylon socks up off of the alien’s face. He sniffed them and made a sour face directly at Superman. Then he dangled them over the hero’s still forced open mouth. The doctor slowly lowered the sox down into Superman’s mouth, stuffing the entire fowl wad past the edges of the dental dam, once again gagging anything more that a murmer from the defeated hero’s vocal chords.
Detective Carlilse watched the sadistic doctor work with awe. Although he was of a mind to believe that Superman was getting exactly what he deserved, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sorrow for the muscle bound human looking alien. He looked on as Dr. Schnell moved back to Superman’s chest area.
The pumping tubes attached to Superman’s pectorals were still sucking along. The hero’s once inny nipples were now out and erect, like two pink pencil erasers standing angrily atop Superman’s battered beaten chest muscles. The doctor ripped the suctioning tubes away from Superman’s tits with a loud plopping sound. Superman grunted into the footclothes in his mouth. Then the doctor grasped both of the hero’s sore distended nipples with the thumbs and forefingers of his rubber gloved old hands. He twisted and pulled on Superman’s titties and said, “Gentlemen, I think Superman’s tits like what happening to him just as much as his dick does! look how they stand up all red and proud on his musclular chest. looks like they want some attention, huh?” The doctor laughed his gutteral laugh again.
Then the german sadist went back into the chair’s drawers for yet another item of torment. He extracted a device that looked similar to a pair of pliers and a baggy that held a bunch of rubber o-rings. Dr. Schnell opened the baggy and laid a pile of the rings on Superman’s ripped stomach. He fished around in the rings and came up with one that he thought would serve his purpose. The doctor slipped the black rubber o-ring over Superman’s right tormented nipple.Then he ran it up and down the distended tit a few times and said, “Yes I think that’s the size we need. These my dear boy are called elastrators. They were made for boy titties like yours. I’m going to put a few of these on each of your perky little nubbins. Then with this special tool, I’m going to insure that they are permanently tightened against your alien titty flesh, ensuring that those tits of yours remain at attention and on display for all to see and use as they wish. Your nipples will not be allowed to retreat back into your chest my boy. If your tits want attention, we’ll make sure that attention is what they get!” He laughed again and went to work on Superman’s aching tits.
When the german doctor was finished with Superman’s newest degradation, Sergeant Walters was quite impressed. He had heard of elastrators, but never seen them in use before. Superman now sported 1″ erect black rubberized nipples,the naked tips of which were dark red and peeking out from their rubber confines. The doctor gleefully tucked the thumbs of both of his rubberized hands behind his forefingers and with a quick release flicked the hero’s entrapped nipple tips with black rubber covered thumb nails. Superman let out a howl of pain that even the stockings stuffed in his gullet couldn’t muffle. His rubber elastrator captive tits jerked from the hits they took and then stood back up erect on his pecs. The doctor flicked them again, and again, and again, taking great pleasure in the defeated hero’s pain. Sgt. Walters shot his load down an unready Officer Glavine’s throat, the tit play in front of him taking him over the edge.
Doctor Schnell tired of tormenting Superman’s tits eventually and announced that his examination of the prisoner was complete. He checked all of the additions that he had made to Superman one last time. He made sure that the semen collecting tube and it’s sack was in good working order. He pulled the long fist shaped rubber arm from Superman’s raped asshole and replaced it with a thick, six inch long buttplug version of the same dildo. He pulled the sox from Superman’s mouth and retrieved the dental dam, giggling under his breath at the green light emanating from within. Then he returned the fowl pair of nylons to their place. He checked the hero’s new footwear, the kryptonite pins still radiating from Superman’s alien heals. He tweaked Superman’s elastrated nipples once more and padded out of the room saying, over his shoulder, to no one in particular, “Make sure that that semen bag is emptied once it’s full. It should strap easily atop the Superfreak’s ass like a what do you call it, a fanny pack, no? Over his pretty blue tights, if that’s what he’ll be refitted with. Whatever you put on him, should work fine.” Then the evil Dr. Schnell padded out to the anteroom and his boss Lex Luthor.
Sgt. Walters had regained his composure after his ball draining ejaculation. He now spouted orders, back in charge of the prisoner’s care. He ordered Officer Glavine and Detective Carlilse to help him unstrap Superman from the chair. “It’s time to get our prisoner redressed and ready for his first meeting with his defense attorney. Mr. Luthor is paying good money for your defense Superfag. It’s assumed that as an alien from some other planet, that you don’t have the monetary resources of your own. Don’t look so apologetic, stud!” The sergeant sneered at Superman. “You can thank Mr. Luthor later. Right now we’ve got to get you all gussied up for your lawyer.”
Meanwhile on the other side of the cameras, Lex Luthor was congratulating and thanking Dr.Schnell, for excellent service. “Doctor that was a wonderful show. thank you very much. It’s great to see that my money has been put to good use. Finally I have managed to get that tights wearing busy body exactly where his alien ass belongs. That kryptonite chip in Superman’s tooth will ensure that his days of interferring in my business are over. And since old Supes is going to be very busy the next few months trying to get out of this nasty murder wrap, which incidentally I happen to faithfully believe he won’t, I have all assurance that I can rest easy. It’s thanks to you and all of those other scientific minds that I gathered into the fold. There will be a nice bonus in it for the lot of you.” Lex patted the old rubber encased doctor on the back as the german pulled on his over clothes.
When Dr. Schnell was once again dressed in his suit and tie with the white lab coat back on, the two partners in crime took up seats on the sofa in the room and chatted over coffee. A fresh pot had been brought up by a couple of guards on Luthor’s payroll. As the two sinister men talked, James Dalton, esq., arrived on the floor of Interrogation K. Lex Luthor introduced the lawyer to Dr. Schnell. Then he asked Dalton to have a seat while Superman was readied for there meeting. “Superman is almost ready.” Luthor said. “Dr. Schnell here has just finished giving the hero his jail admission examination, and now the booking Sergeant Walters and his associates are getting him redressed. It’ll just be a few more minutes.” Lex motioned towards the computer screen where Dalton saw a weakened Superman being helped from the examination chair by three rubber encased men. “Have a seat and we’ll discuss what kind of defense Superman needs to mount against these very serious charges that he faces. I want the best defense that my money can buy, for the world’s mightiest hero. We want to make sure that justice is served don’t we? After all that must be what Superman would want. He is the bastion of good and right isn’t he?” Lex Luthor laughed as Dalton took a seat.
Back in the bathroom/torture clinic Superman was once again standing on shaky legs. He had immediately tried to place his weight fully on his large meaty feet when Sgt. Walters and the other two policemen had helped him out of the chair, only to feel the excruciating stabbing pain of the kryptonite pins that the sadistic german doctor had implanted in his meaty heels. Sgt. Walters warned him, “Supes you really have to pay better attention, my boy. You’ll have to stay on your toes from now on. I warned you before that these floors can be dangerous to a bare footed guy didn’t I? And we still don’t have any shoes big enough for those big old peds of yours alien. Besides I don’t think you’d like the feeling of those pretty red lycra boots of yours any more anyway.” Sgt. Walters laughed and patted Superman on the head like some scolded schoolboy. The kryptonite pins inserted into Superman’s heels worked better than the sergeant had expected. Superman wouldn’t be walking around like a proud boasting peacock any more. He was sure of that. Oh how the mighty had fallen.
Once Superman was on his toes shakily holding onto Sgt. Walters on one side and Officer Glavine on the other, the sergeant barked at Detective Carlilse. “Detective if you would be so kind! Supes’ new clothes are in the locker over there. They are in a sack marked Superfag. Get them and we’ll get this show on the road.”
Detective Carlilse padded over to the locker and retrieved the sack containing the requested items of clothing. When he returned to the foot of the examination chair, Superman was standing on his own, up on his toes and quivering like a wet kitten. Superman was a broken defeated wreck. His mind was racing with fear, axiety and distress at his predicament. On his shaky toes, the once ,hell, was it just yesterday, superhero, stood. His still engorged penis jutted out straight in front of his crotch, the bulbous head encased in rubber, with a thin plastic tube running from it to the fanny pack sack which lay on the footrest of the examination chair behind him. Looking down his torso Superman noticed with disgust the semen, his own semen, coursing through the tube, to it’s destination in the collection sack. To his disappointment, the hero also saw, upon glancing down his beaten torso, his distended and raw nipples jutting out from his pecs, entrapped as they were in the elastrator rubber, like two more hard-ons. Superman felt the thick rubber that filled his anal cavity. He tried with all he had left to expel the monstrous butt-plug. It was no use the intruder remained buried in the hero’s backside. With dread Superman realized that because of all the chemicals that they had pumped into his rectum, he no longer had control over his own ass muscles. What ever his tormentors wanted to put into his hole, would go without defense. And once buried there, he would have no choice but to accept it. If they wanted it to stay, it would stay. His eyes began to water again at this newest revelation. He wanted to protest but his mouth was full of the sergeants nasty nylons and he was afraid of what might happen if he tried to spit them out. He could not even complain. Sgt. Walters had returned to the chair’s computer screen. Officer Glavine was standing next to Superman, but he was a mental wreck, himself. The detective was padding back from across the room with the sack of what Superman could only guess was more humiliation.
Then a quick thought entered Superman’s head. He was now standing here, without any restraints on. Could this be his one and only chance to dash away.The only thing buckled on him still was that collar with the glowing green stone. That wouldn’t keep him would it? He knew that he probably couldn’t fly away, but he could try to run for help. Superman decided to give it a try. But he once again forgot that he shouldn’t put any weight on his feet. When he turned to run for the door, immediate and excruciating pains shot through his body from the needle-like green tatoos on his heels. Superman fell to his knees and grasped for his aching feet.
Sgt. Walters, Detective Carlilse and even Officer Glavine were on Superman in a flash. Officer Glavine wrenched Superman’s arms up behind the hero’s back. He roughly held them there. Det. Carlilse grabbed a hand full of the kneeling hero’s dark hair with his free hand. The sergeant looked down into Superman’s begging eyes and reached out with his rubber covered open hand. He bitch slapped the defeated kneeling hero across the nylon stuffed face, back and forth. “You stupid, stupid idiot!” The sergeant rebuked. “You really, really don’t understand how dire your situation is do you, Superman? You are under arrest here. This little outburst will be interpretted as an escape attempt. You’ve just earned yourself another charge Stuporman!” The evil booking sergeant glared down into Superman’s eyes. He added, “Now I guess you see why we had to install a few built in deterrents to your alien anatomy, huh? If we did nothing to prevent your escape you’d just fly out of here. I’m sure that even your greatest admirers couldn’t begrudge our behavior, today. We can’t, after all, have accused murderers running or even flying around our fair city. This will not look good on your record, Superman. This will have to be reported. Remember what I told you in the beginning about co-operation. You really are a slow learner.” The sergeant used his rubber covered foot to strike out with a kick to Superman’s low hanging ball sack. “Get him up against the chair!” Sgt. Walters ordered Officer Glavine, who still held Superman’s muscular arms .
Officer Glavine yanked the fallen superhero up onto his toes again and wrestled him over to the chair that Sgt. Walters had raised into it’s upraised position. The officer sat Superman down onto the seat of the chair with a push. Superman winced as the buttplug cramming his anus made contact with the chair’s hard seat.Superman slumped down into the chair realizing that escape was futile.
“Now you be a good boy, while we get you into your new jail garb, Supes. co-operate and this will all be over soon. Then you can meet with a lawyer and we’ll get you settled into a nice cell we’ve got all set up at he end of the hall. I’m sure your going to love your cellmate, Supes, but that will all be revealed later. Now we’ve got to get some clothes on you. You can’t prance around here all nude and shit. What would the other inmates think? Hell with that study muscular physique of yours and that hard leaking dong between your legs you’d only last a few minutes, before someone turned you out!” The sergeant laughed hardily, as he reached for the sack that Det. Carlilse held.
Superman was dejected and despondent. He watched as the sadistic grinning sergeant pulled a blue fabric item from the sack. Sgt. Walters shook the garment out revealing a pair of extremely thin diaphonous footed pantyhose. Superman stared at the garment with contempt. He could immediately see that the sheerness of the garment would leave little to the imagination of anyone looking at it’s wearer. He could also tell that the garment was much too small for his bulky lower half.
Sgt. Walters noticed the look on Superman’s face and informed, ” Well Supes you can’t very well wear those tights that you came in here with, now can you. They are filthy. And besides, I think there may still be some of Mr. Kent’s blood on them so we’ll have to have those in evidence. These will have to do. I know they aren’t exactly manufactured for your every day superhero, but hell they ain’t far off from those sissy hose you wore before. And I even got you queen sized pantyhose in a similar color to your own. Yes they probably are too small yet, but look at the stretch these baby’s have.” The sergeant stretched the legs of the pantyhose to prove his point. “And I know that they are very sheer. But that’s just too bad because we couldn’t find any tights that we thought would stretch over those big old thighs of yours. Do you know how hard it is for real men to shop for tights? Where ever do you buy your tights, Superman. I guess maybe you have them specially made, but after Dr.Schnell and his boys check those of yours out then they’ll know, huh? But for now these will have to do. Get them on!” Sgt. Walters threw the sheer blue pantyhose to Superman.
Superman caught the hose and looked at them in disgust. They were even more see trough up close. The man of steel knew that there was nothing he could do except don the very feminine article of clothing, so he began pulling them up his legs. The fit was very very tight, but he managed to get them on, over his muscular calves and thighs. The pantyhose were so sheer that Superman’s alabaster skin shown through. They barely covered Superman’s hefty battered balls. They did not raise any higher than that. The hero’s cock still stood straight out over the pantyhose. In back the hose went just up over the top of the invading buttplug’s base. The top of Superman’s crack was on full display. Superman didn’t think it possible but the pantyhose made him feel even more nude.
“Good enough for government work, Superfag!” Sgt. Walters proclaimed. “Stand up and let’s see what they look like, sissy!”
Superman slowly got up off of the chair so as not to rip his new pants. Amazingly the diaphonous fabric held. Superman perched himself up on his toes and turned as the sergeant inspected his new uniform. Sgt. Walters patted the plug firmly up Superman’s ass and then grasped ahold of the hero’s balls throught the sheer pantyhose. “We’ll have to make sure that you don’t get the urge to take these off Supes! ” The sergeant said matter of factly. He reached into the sack and pulled out a ball stretcher similar to the one that Superman had been forced to wear earlier. This one , however, was wider and was bright pink leather. Sgt. Walters tightened his grasp on Superman’s ballsack and yanked down sharply. The hero’s scrotum was trapped inside the sheer blue pantyhose that he had pulled on himself. The booking sergeant meant to make sure that they stayed that way. He used his free hand and wrapped the pink leather stretcher around the outside of the stretched pantyhosed skin. Sgt. Walters snapped the stretcher closed around Superman’s scrotum with the four snaps on the backside of the pink leather cuff. Then using the thinner strap attached at the bottom of the stretcher he wrenched the pantyhosed hero’s large battered balls apart, separating them and forcing them farther away from the alien’s body. Snapping that strap to the front of the wider stretcher Sgt. Walters hooked a miniscule titanium lock through the hasp. Another lock at the back and top of the stretcher insured that the sergeant had trapped Superman in the feminine sheer blue pantyhose. When the second lock clicked shut, the sergeant patted Superman’s sheer blue trapped balls and said, “There that will ensure that you stay clothed during your jail time Superfag. I know how you may be tempted to want to remove your pretty new pantyhose when we leave you in your cell later. But we can’t have that. Not to worry though your big old erection and that hungry hole of yours are still very accesible to those who may want to use them.” The sergeant smiles widely at the humiliated superhero.
Superman barely had enough time to digest his new lower garment, and adjust himself to the fact that his balls were once again stretched and trapped, before Sgt. Walters had removed another piece of flimsy fabric from the sack. The sergeant shook out the new garment revealing a thin blue shirt of the same daiphonous fabric as the pantyhose. The shirt appeared to be just as small if not smaller than the pantyhose, and was, indeed, just as sheer. With the sergeant holding the sheer garment up, it was clear to Superman and the others in the room that the shirt was nothing more than a pair of blue pantyhose just like the pair that now adorned the superhero’s legs. The difference was that the crotch had been cut out, to allow it to go down over the wearer’s head, and fingers had been sewn into the feet, for sheer nylon gloves, while the legs were meant to cover the arms. The ‘shirt’ would definately not cover the wearer’s abdomen and the wide waist band would tightly fit just down below the ribcage. Then Superman noticed that two small holes had been cut and sewn up in the front of the ‘shirt’. It was plain to see that these would fit over the hero’s elastrated tits. Superman’s demeanor sank lower as the sergeant ordered him to raise his arms out in front of his body so that the garment could be pulled on him.
Sgt. Walters fitted the sheer blue pantyhose shirt onto Superman’s upper body. He pulled Superman’s muscular arms into the stretchy fabric of the ‘shirt’. He tightly encased the crimefighting hero’s huge hands into the blue pantyhose gloves. He pulled the waistband down as far as it could go on Superman’s abdomen. The sergeant made sure that the provided holes let Superman’s distended, rubber stretched tits poke through for easy access. As he worked the holes into place over Superman’s nipples the waistband of the shirt kept riding up. Sgt. Walters anticipated this. Into the sack he went. He came out with a set of pink garters. Sgt. Walters attached them one at the time to the waistband of the pantyhose shirt and then down to the pantyhose covering the hero’s legs. When he was finished Superman’s top was held down to his bottoms by four bright pink leather garters, two in front and two in the rear. The diabolical sergeant stated nonchalantly, “Superfag, you wanted to dress like a fairy before. We just thought we’d keep up the habit while you are our guest here at the jail. We just knocked it up a knotch or two for you. Just call us Emeril if you want to!” He laughed again and said “Bam!”, as he snapped the two front garters out and let them snap back against Superman’s ripped muscular abdomen.
Superman looked toatlly humiliated in his new jail uniform. The diaphonous bright blue fabric left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated the erections protruding from both his crotch and his chest. The pink ball stretcher and garters further feminized the muscular frame of the world’s once mightiest crime fighter. But the sadistic booking sergeant was not finished completing Superman’s degrading outfit.
The sergeant reached behind Superman’s neck and released the buckle to the hero’s collar. Sgt. Walters explained, “Supes this collar is not neccessary now that the good doctor has fitted your mouth and heels with just the right amount of your favorite gemstone. Besides we have a much better collar for you to wear while visting with us.” He threw the kryptonite bejeweled collar onto the chair and pulled yet another item from the sack. Sgt. Walters wrapped Superman’s new collar around the superhero’s neck. This collar was bright pink leather and had a red ‘S’ symbol in a yellow shield, emblazoned on the front, just like the one on Superman’s old uniform leotard. The collar was very wide in the front and forced Superman’s head up and his gagged jaw to jut out. In back the collar was just thick enough to cover the lower part of the hero’s wide sinewy neck. A set of titanium locks ensured it’s snug fit would remain in place. “This is a posture collar Superfag. It will ensure that when you are prancing around the jail on your pantyhosed toes that you do so proudly with your head held high. You’ve always been so boastful and proud running around in that sissy costume that you used to fight crime in, that we just knew that you’d be honored to prance around in this new uniform.” Sgt. Walters slapped Superman’s hardened cock and watched as it bounced up and down a few times and then fell right back into place jutting out in front of the hero. Superman’s bulbous dick head burped a few more shots of ejaculate into the tube extending from it’s pisslips, then went back to it’s slow stream of cumming.
The sergeant laughed and said, “Supes that cock of yours sure loves all of this attention, huh? I don’t want you to worry that you might loose that hard on any time soon. I am sure that you won’t. This is just the kind of treatment you should have been getting all along. You didn’t know it before , but I am sure that it is becoming increasingly evident to your puny alien brain now that you are just a perverted alien fag boy who needs this kind of attention.” The sergeant left the part out about how all of the chemicals that Lex Corps’ scientists had concocted would be the insurance that kept Superman erotically charged from now on.
Superman lowered his gaze and his eyes filled with water again as the sergeant’s words sunk in. He would have lowered his head if the bright pink collar would have allowed it. It had been quite easy for these men to get him into this situation. Maybe what the sadistic sergeant said had a slight ring of truth to it. Superman’s chemically idled brain was in such a weakened state that he couldn’t think straight. Hell the way his penis and tits were reacting he doubted that he’d ever be able to think ‘Straight’ in the human sense ever again.
While Superman sank into dispair further, Sgt. Walters once again retrieved the filthy socks from Superman’s mouth. “You’ll have to spit these things out when you meet with your attorney, you murdering pantywaste.” Sgt. Walters explained as he pushed Superman’s head back and wrang the fowl liquid from the socks down into Superman’s throat. He then retrieved his own dick from the crotch of his rubber suit. The sadistic sergeant wrapped the spitsoaked sox around his own member and began to piss into the slimy black wad of nylon. Then as Superman tried to work his painfully aching jaws back into shape, the evil sergeant pulled the piss dripping stockings from around his cock and wadded the wet slimy nylon socks back into a ball and shoved them back home into Superman’s mouth. “You can keep sucking on those until you need to speak, Superfag. Nobody in here wants or needs to hear any of your sniveling, cocksucking babble right now! I’ve already blown a nut this afternoon so I’ll let you know when those services are required again, ok cocksucker? ” The sergeant slapped Superman’s aching stuffed jaws and said to Officer Glavine, “Kid strap that cum-collecting fanny pack to the fucker’s waist, then walk the pussy around a bit to limber him up. And then get him out to Interrogation K. When you get him out there cuff him to the chair and wait for his attorney to arrive.” Then to Superman he said, “Thanks for a wonderful afternoon Supes. See ya later and we’ll take right back up where we left off.There’s a whole lot more I want to show you about your true worth, you alien cocksucking fagboy!”
The sadistic booking sergeant began to pad on his rubberized feet out of the room. he said, “Ya coming detective? I’m sure that Mr. Luthor would like to see us in the outer room, before he goes. He’s a very busy man ya know. He can’t spend all of his time here witnessing this murdering illegal alien’s interrogations. Hell he’s gone out of his way long enough for this pantywaste. He’s even paying his own money to make sure the cocksucker gets the very best defense.” Leaving Superman to mull over the fact that the hero’s arch enemy may be the only one that is trying to help him, Sgt. Walters exited the torture chamber with Detective Carlilse on his heels.
