The Murder of Clark Kent Chapter 9B
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The Murder of Clark Kent

by Sockrob

 

Chapter 9 New Friends, Old Friend and Enemies Galore 9B The Cellmate

Sgt. Walters spoke into the cellphone in his hand. “Yes Mr. Luthor, we got it all on DVD for you.” He stopped speaking and listened. Then said, “Oh they’ve got the link up and running for you now, do they. Then, don’t you just  love the way your geeky lawyer pick turned out” Then there was a pause, during which the evil fiend on the other end of the communication device, spoke. “Oh yes, he’s actually feeding Supes his filthy socked feet as we speak, but now I guess you are hearing and seeing the whole thing aren’t you.” Walters laughed. ” The stupid boy scout is eating it up. Super sissy is so mind fucked now that he’s even scared of the little nerdy twink. He’s now so emasculated and weak that I bet a ten year old boy could dominate him.” Walters laughed into the cellphone as Luthor spoke some more.

“Yes, Mr Luthor, Dalton’s going over his defense strategies with his new client too. But as you can see, Supes ain’t really adding too much to the conversation, not with his mouth full of twink sock, but the young lawyer is laying out his plans for a best defense with the murderous alien bastard, yes, sir.” The booking sergeant let Luthor speak some more, grinning as he listened and watched the scene on the other side of the mirrored window. 

On the other side of the window, Lane Tyler Dalton was speaking more to the prisoner working his tongue along the bottom of the attorney’s socked left foot, than with him. Lane read from some papers he’d retrieved from his briefcase, paying little attention, now to the client dutifully servicing his tired aching black socked feet.”What’s this shit about you’re being one and the same man as Clark Kent, Supes?” Lane looked skeptically down his glasses at the sock sucking ex-hero. “That will never hold up in court, silly Superdork. There is absolutely no resemblance between you and Mr. Kent.”

The little bastard’s statement sparked some flicker of dread in Superman’s mind. He looked up into the lawyer’s questioning face with comprehesion, as the reality of the truth set in. The fact that the world had all been so taken by the awe of Superman, that no one could possibly ever see the resemblance between he and the mild mannered Kent, sank in. Superman had taken on the problem of finding an alter ego long ago, he’d taken instruction from the spirits of the elders of Krypton at his fortress of solitude. A sort of spell had been set on the human form that Kal El had been given before being rocketed from the doomed Krypton, making it almost impossible for anyone on his newly adopted planet, to note any similarities between him and his human alter ego, Clark Kent. That was why he’d been able to get away with his secret for so long. That was the reason that such a pitiful disguise, just a pair of hornrimmed glasses, a sharp suit, and a different hairstyle, could fool his adoring subjects. The fact that Lex Luthor had somehow discovered the secret of his alter ego, baffled the already enfeebled brain of the weakened Krytonian. He wondered just how many of Luthor’s conspirators knew the secret he’d been able to keep until now. It was becoming obvious that Superman’s nemesis hadn’t betrayed this most intimate closeted skeleton to many, if anyone at all. Superman wondered if the sadistic booking sergeant, Walters, knew the truth. Superman, deduced that either he wasn’t in the total confidence of Luthor, or he was a damned good actor. All these thoughts raced through Superman’s addled mind as he tongue washed his new tormentor’s sox. Somewhere deep in the hero’s psyche, his super alien mind was still functioning analytically. Concsiously, though, the weakened champion, couldn’t keep his mind centered on any one thing. Thoughts and visions of his recent ordeal flooded in and out of his mindseye, like an ever flowing tide.   

“We’ll have to come up with something else, dear Superdork.” the newly confident young lawyer stated. “Or, if you insist we’ll use that defense, but I will have to let it be known that I was against such a ludicrous excuse, from the get-go.” Lane wiggled the long stocking toes of his left foot which was now firmly entrenched in Superman’s maw. Superman just blindly sucked. “As I see it Superdork, there really isn’t much else we can claim here. The evidence is really stacked against you, my simpering murderous alien buddy.” Lane smiled a wicked evil grin down at the sock laundering super alien at his feet. “But I am sworn to defend you as best I can, Supes. That’s our law here. Even though you are an alien, I will still argue the best way I know how for you. Even if I don’t really see any way out of this serious predicament you’ve seemed to have gotten yourself into. Maybe before the trial’s over, you’ll tell me why you murdered the reporter, Supester. I bet that you’ll be willing to tell me a whole lot of things before we’re through, my little Supersissy.” Lane really was feeling, for the first time in his pathetic life, that he was truly a superior being. And the object of his superiority, the world’s most powerful being, caused a fount of self-assured cockiness to well up inside the previosly meek shy young man.

“I am so glad that I accepted Mr Luthor’s challenge to take on this case, Superdork. At first I ad great anxiety regarding this endeavor. But now that I see how much it has changed my life, I am ecstatic and can’t wait to get you in front of the court. If not for your benefit, mine. Hell, everyone who ever doubted me, ever taunted and teased me will see the new me. I will make sure that they see me taking charge of you’re pathetic existence, Supersimperer. The whole world will look at me differently from now on!” He smiled his wicked new grin down on Superman. “And who knows, Maybe by some miracle I’ll even find a way to get you off. I doubt that very seriously, but who cares, It’s a win-win for me even if it is such a lose-lose for you. Sorry, ole Supester, but sometimes life just ain’t fair, is it?” He laughed wiggling his toes more in Superman’s mouth. 

On the other side of the fake looking glass, Sgt. Walters was making plans for the next phase of Superman’s downfall. Walters sat on the sofa facing Interrogation K, with his socked feet up on a coffee table, watching the lawyer do his work in the other room. Officer Glavine, naked, down on his knees, his head in his sadistic superior’s lap, busily worked his mouth up and down the sergeant’s erect penis. Detective Carlilse sat at the computer making sure that everything was in good working order there.

Just then,  a new player was being introduced to the room. Two jail guards  escorted this new man to the anteroom of Interrogation K. The man was dressed in an orange jail issued jumpsuit, with leg and wrist shackles. The wrist shackles were affixed to a thick chain around the man’s waist. The leg irons were locked around the man’s ankles, which were clad in black socks, which, in turn, stood in a pair of black leather slippers. The suit was very tight fitting on the man, as the guy was huge, almost as massive as Superman, himself. The top part of the suit was opened and a great bush of black hair sprouted out over the man’s massive chest. 6’7″, on a frame of muscle mixed with the excesses of a life of crime, the man’s body had an ominous fear inducing air about it. His bald head and thick goatee, along with a nasty three inch scar down the left side of his weathered face, topped off his hardened prison look. Everyone in the room immediately recognized, Bart Harrow, the serial killer. Bart was serving a death sentence, for slaying twenty-six men women and children, and had been previously housed on death row at Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane. Lex Luthor had arranged, by way of blackmail and coercion, for the maniac killer to be reassigned here to this special floor of the Metropolis jail. He and Superman, for now, would be the floor’s only residents. 

Looking around at the assembled group of men in the room, Bart demanded “What the fuck’s this all about? Why have I been moved here?” 

Pushing Glavine to the floor and getting up while storing his gear and zipping up the sergeant spoke. “Well my friend, this will be you’re new home!” Sgt Walters answered the criminal. “Well, not actually this room, but on this floor we have a special new cell constructed for you and your new cellmate.” The sergeant continued to explain.

Bart Harrow looked confused and angered at the explanation that he saw as just another adversity in his already interrupted life. ” What the fuck, you talking about copper?” he demanded.

“Look through the glass and get a first look at your new bunkmate, killer!” Sgt. Walters grinned. “None other than the great Superman, the one who put you’re reign of terror to an end, if I’m not mistaken.”

The shackled prisoner looked into the interrogation room with disbelief. Superman couldn’t possibly be offered up to him this easily. Bart had to do a double take and made his way closer to the glass, without any resistance from the guards, who up until that moment had kept a strong grasp on him. He wanted to get a better view, because at first glance the hulk of a man, hunkering over some twinks socked feet that Bart saw through the glass didn’t resemble the valiant, do gooder hero that had taken him down. Bart moved between the sofa and the glass, as he did Officer Glavine scampered out of his way and quickly crawled over into the corner. Bart put his face right up to the glass and stared. Could that mess of a man be Superman? The suit didn’t match and the guy although big enough looked totally emasculated. But after a few long studiuos seconds, the murderer’s face reddened and his fists balled in their shackles. For it was him, Superman, his old foe, yes, the one who had captured him. Hell the only one who had been capable of ending his murderous crime spree. The realization of just what was being offered him, suddenly sank in to the criminally insane prisoner. He turned back towards the copper who was obviously in charge of this new situation. “What gives, screw? It can’t be this easy. What do you mother fuckers want? Yeah right, you’re just gonna put me in a cell with Superman? I had been told that Supes had gotten himself into a bit of trouble with you guys. I didn’t believe it, until this minute. It sure looks like the boy scout ain’t in any condition to protest, if that is in fact Supes, but I know you assholes too well by now to just believe that ya’ll are just gonna let me at him. What do you want from me in exchange? And, how can I tell that it’s really him?” Bart was still skeptical.

“I assure you that the man you see there, is in fact the ex-superhero.” Sgt. Walters tried to reassure. “He isn’t so super at the moment, and he’s finding his stay here on the other side of the law quite demoting and a bit humiliating, but it is he.”

Was that an evil sadistic grin that Bart saw plastered all over the cops face. Bart immediately felt a connection with the booking sergeant. He got a quick glimpse into a soul not unlike his own, through the evil emitting from the copper. “Well, why, my good man, would the “law” just turn Superman over to the likes of me, knowing full well that if ,he in fact, is powerless, that I will spare him absolutely no mercy!” Bart shot the same shit eating sadistic grin right back at the sergeant.   

“That, my friend, is exactly why we are offerring to room the fucker with the likes of you!” Sgt. Walters explained with glee. He actually liked something about the criminally insane prisoner who questioned him. If Bart hadn’t have been so damned crazy, Walters thought that maybe they could be come quite good friends. He smiled widely towards the brute again. ” All we want from you Mr. Harrow, is the knowledge that you will keep Superfreak there quite occupied, and give him exactly the kind of companionship that he deserves.”, he went on. “You see we’ve come to learn that Superman is quite the Super sissy, actually. He loves cock! And apparently, the krytonian hero, has quite a masochistic streak as well. He gets off on being tortured and tormented. You’ll have complete access to his entire being. Make him your cell bitch! Anything goes. The only rule is that you can’t kill the alien, although I doubt you could anyway, he seems to be quite omnipotent in that manner. Trust me we’ve already worked him over pretty good. He just eats it up!” Walters was smiling again.

“Well I’ll be damned!” Bart Harrow exclaimed. “This might turn out to be a good day after all!”

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