The Murder of Clark Kent
Chapter 9 New Friends, Old Friends and Enemies Galore
Chapter 9E. Supes Goes for a Ride
Superman knelt on the cold concrete of his new residence. His sheer pantyhosed knees ached, as he’d been on them for some time now servicing his cellmate, Bart Harrow’s flagging erection with his kryptonite implanted cocksucking mouth. And the criminal murderer’s hardened boner just seemed to never deflate. Superman, now called Gal by his tormenting cellmate, serviced Bart’s sexual needs as demanded. Disgusted, the beaten hero, sucked, licked kissed and deepthroated on command. If he showed the slightest instance of disobedience or slacking, the sadistic bastard would kick the kneeling alien in the nutsack or push him back on his kryptonite pinned stockinged soles. For what seemed like hours, Superman worshipped at the never ending ball emptying cock of his newest nemesis.
Bart Harrow lounged back on the bottom bunk while he prodded his new sex plaything on. Every once in a while, he’d reach down and slap his cocksucker across the jaws with the back of his huge weathered paw, knowing full well that the jolt of the backhanding would send tremors of electrifying pain through Superman’s kryptonite embedded face. The grunts and screams that came from the alien’s cock stuffed muffled mouth told him as much. But it made Bart Harrow giddy with glee every time he slapped, so he bitch slapped on. Sometimes, Bart would use his huge size 14 sock covered foot to bitch slap his victim, that is when he wasn’t using that same stockinged foot to kick at Superman’s stretched and separated nut sack. Bart laughed every time he kicked the former super hero’s pink leather and nylon trapped ballsac. He laughed because every time his foot made contact with Superman’s trapped gonads, the alien’s engorged catheterized penis would shoot another burp of super jizz into the tube shoved in it’s piss lips.
“Gal, you sure do leak a non-stop flow of that super cock snot, don’t ya?” Bart humiliated his cocksucking cell mate. “We’re gonna have to get some one in to empty your fuck juice sack soon, or you’re gonna start backing up!” he laughed and prodded the bladder that was collecting all of Superman’s semen with his stockinged toe. Then noticing that the super cock worshipper was slacking off on his ordered sucking once again, Bart sent a roundhouse kick into Superman’s right cocksucking jaw.
Superman had learned quickly that this was going to be his new existence, living with Bart Harrow. After their initial get together in Interrogation K, Bart had taken the upper hand. Superman just didn’t have enough fight left in him to dispute the murderer’s dominance. So he found himself servicing Harrow as a sexual plaything and jail bitch. The sadistic man had taught Superman to clean his sweaty smelly pits clean. He’d forced the hero he addressed as Gal, to lick his feet in and out of footwear, tongue wash his body from toenail to forehead and pay special attention to his crotch and ass. Superman had refused at first, but Bart knew the former superhero’s weaknesses. The tormentor tortured Superman’s trapped balls, his distended nipples and those damned enfeebled feet. Superman remembered the first time he’d blatantly refused to tongue Bart’s hairy asshole. Bart had wrestled the weaker man down onto the bed, tied him spread eagle and performed two agonizing hours of pain wrenching bastinado on Superman’s kryptonite pinned sheer stockinged feet. Superman had screamed and cried so loudly that Bart had tired of hearing it and stuffed the former super man’s face with two pair of rank sweaty socks and then wrapped a pair of his shit stained underpants around Superman’s face to hold them in. Bart had laughed at Superman and chided “Gal, this is what you get for not wanting to suck the shit stains from my ass. You can lay there and sniff it from my underwear while I beat your pretty big ole sissy pantyhosed feet.” Then to Superman’s muzzled screams he added. ” And , Gal, when I’m through beating your feet black and blue, you’re gonna tongue wash my ass anyway, so you’d better start getting it into that addled little brain of yours that what I want I will get. It can be easy on you or hard. Personally I kinda like it when you insist on hard treatment. It makes me all the more horny for that plump wide pantyhosed ass of yours.” Bart grinned and swung his wide leather belt again making contact with Superman’s bound feet.
Days had gone by, how many Superman had no knowledge. Bart watched television while Superman carried out his wishes. The jailers had made the cell comfortable for Bart. A nice bed complete with daily changed linens, a big screen television, computer, with Internet access, a leather recliner, and a fridge filled with all his favorite beverages and snacks, were furnished for Superman’s tormentor. Superman, on the other hand, had only the sheer nylon, rubber and leather bondage outfit he was imprisoned in and a hard mattress on a jail bunk along one wall. Bart kept the former man-of-steel shackled to the bunk by a chain wrapped around either his neck or some other appendage most of the time. The sadistic maniac made Superman his cell bitch whenever it fancied him. When he wasn’t shackled to the filthy bunk, Superman was waiting on his tormentor hand and foot. Superman fetched Bart beers and snacks from the fridge when ordered, he knelt beside the tub and washed Bart when the bastard lounged in the luxurious tub in the adjoining bathtub, and he performed sexually, as he was now doing, for his cellmate when demanded. As Superman knelt with knees spread wide and performed this newest act of fellatio on his tormentor, he remembered that first night with Bart Harrow.
Superman remembered earlier, after, Harrow had shown him who was in charge in Interrogation K, the criminal had attached a chain leash to Superman’s collar and dragged the alien down the hall on stockinged tiptoes. The once mighty superhero meekly followed stumbling along behind his newest tormentor, doing his best to keep the weight of his still massive body off of his torturous feet. Superman wondered as he tiptoed along, how long his feet would be subject to the pain of the offending kryptonite pins. He stole a look down his battered and imprisoned torso toward his aching feet. Shame is all he felt as he caught sight of his own huge feet, perched on tiptoe, now clad in the sheerest baby blue pantyhose. He sighed as he watched the clamps attached to his tweaked nipples bounce up and down on his massive chest. And, as much as he wanted to avert his eyes from the sight of his ramrod hard penis and stretched and aching balls, he could only stare with shame and a tinge of fear, an all too frequent new sensation for the former man-of-steel. The beaten super hero strained his thick neck to take in his new appearance, due to the thick posture collar locked firmly around him. Superman fell further into despair at the betrayal that his tortured and beaten sex organs displayed. He was so brain addled from the constant kryptonite and drug cocktails that he had no cognizance of the fact that his sexual excitement was totally forced and not the least bit self induced, or were they, somewhere deep inside the alien’s psyche. All of this treatment was new to the super being. No one had ever defeated Superman like he had been defeated the last few days. No one, not even Lois Lane had ever treated him so sexually before. Every thought, every feeling, every emotion of the past few days was new territory for the krytonian giant. Superman was a physical and mental wreck, as he trudged, leashed and on tiptoe behind Bart Harrow.
Superman was rudely awakened from his deep thoughts by his new room mate. Bart had noticed that the cocksucker had slacked off on his worship, so with a forceful kick, he rained a slurry of foot slaps to Superman’s battered face.
“That’s enough foreplay, Gal!” Harrow informed, quickly rising to his feet. Then just as quickly he reached down and with a force which startled the befuddled alien cocksucker, Harrow grabbed Superman by the hips and flipped him over on his belly on the bare nasty mattress. Bart forcefully used his stocking feet to pry Superman’s massive thighs apart. He unceremoniously yanked the sheer pantyhose down over his prey’s bubble shaped buttocks, revealing the plug shoved deep in Superman’s ravaged man quim. Superman whimpered and moaned as his cell mate grasped hold of the ass invader and began twisting it round and round in the alien’s devirginated and kryptonite opened hole. Then with a loud plop, Harrow jerked the plug from Superman’s formerly one-way rectum. Harrow laughed out loud at the gaping sight before him. Superman had absolutely no control of his own asshole, anymore. With the absence of the snug buttplug, Superman’s puckered man pussy, readjusted itself, giving Bart Harrow quite a little show. “Man, Gal El, that hot little pussy of your is actually winking at me. Looks like it’s inviting me in, bitch.” Bart laughed out loud and slapped Superman’s right ass cheek. “Well never let it be said that Bart Harrow turned down such a warm invite!” The criminal rapist exclaimed as he plunged his cock balls deep into Superman’s ass. Superman buried his face into the stale, damp mattress as he got butt fucked yet again. He moaned and whined as new tears welled up in his eyes. This wasn’t the first time that his sadistic cell mate had taken him form behind, but Superman was still not used to the idea of being a man’s sex toy. Every ass pounding inch of the bastard’s fuck, reminded Superman of Lex Luthor’s rape of his once virgin ass earlier. Innocence all lost, Superman knew that he would never be the bastion of all that was pure and good ever again. Lex had finally managed to totally defeat him. Bart picked up his rhythmic ride, and slapped Superman’s upturned reddened ass cheeks. Without conscious thought, the former boy scout began to push back into his rapist. Somehow Superman felt that it was the thing that was required of him. He couldn’t have made his tormentor more happy. “That’s it Gal, get with the program! Fuck your alien twat on your man’s fuck stick, bitch. You are turning into quite a good little fuck whore, Gal!” Harrow laughed and rode the wave of ecstasy that his defeated foe created in him.
Superman, lost in the moment, wept and bucked back and forth as Bart Harrow made passionate, dominating, rough love to his newly wrecked man pussy. The former squeaky clean crime fighter gave himself to the man taking him. After all what else could he do, his body bound and imprisoned as it was, his arms still fastened tightly behind his back, his musculature weakened and trapped by drugs and krytonite. Superman wept and fought to reason that none of this was self induced. So lost in the heat of the moment, unconsciously taking some bit of ecstasy from his rape, Superman didn’t even hear the creak of the barred cell door as Sgt. Walters entered. Not until the evil booking sergeant made himself known did Superman realize that he was being watched. But, by now there was no stopping the sexual desire, there was no return from the heat in which he found himself. Superman continued to give himself to his fucker. “Damn, Supersissy, You are sure taking to the new you, with gusto, aren’t you, bitch? ” Walters grinned from ear to ear. “Told ya you were nothing but a sissy whore. I tell ya what, I can spot a faggot, from a mile away. And if ever there was a closeted fairy cake running around this city it was you. Don’t know why you didn’t just own it before. But now that’s all in the past isn’t it, supersissy. Sometimes ya just got to drag ’em kickin’ and screamin’ out of that closet!” The sergeant laughed and slapped at his boot shanks.
“Don’t mind me Harrow, just give the sissy what he want’s. I can wait.” Sergeant Walters giggled and took a seat in Bart’s lazy boy recliner to enjoy the show. Sgt. Walters watched as Bart Harrow took more and more pleasure out of raping his former enemy. The sadistic policeman realized that he had made a great decision picking the maniacal rapist to bunk up with Superman. He hoped that Mr. Luthor was watching this show, too.
Across town in the penthouse of Luthor Towers, Lex Luthor was having just as much enjoyment as Sgt. Walters, if not more. As he reclined in his luxurious bed, Lois Lane next to him with her head laying on his shoulder, Luthor remembered how much fun it was to take Superman’s virtue. He didn’t know what it was about the handsome hulking do-gooder, but the alien was able to excite even his ultra straight libido. Luthor was very glad that he had finally learned to use those feelings against his old foe. He made a mental note to do something special for that sadistic Sergeant Walters for bringing him into the light about how to use sexuality, or actually homosexuality against the virtuous but naive alien crime fighter. Although he had to admit that seeing the big lug being used like a two bit whore, was quite erotic, and had his own penis stretched to it’s fullest and waving in the bedroom air, leaking precum like it was involved in the sexual activity on the screen itself, Luthor fought the urge to get dressed and speed over to join the fun. Instead, as any heterosexual butch male would do, he made sure that Lois knew just how much of a man he was. He had ordered the superhero’s former girlfriend to spread her legs, and now he worked a couple of his knobby fingers in and out of her well fucked pussy. Lois’ gaze was transfixed on the screen where she watched in shock as the mighty hero that she had loved and admired whined and whimpered like a whore in heat as a big hairy brute of a man used him for sexual release. She nuzzled her head against Lex Luthor’s shoulder, as he played with her sex. Lex was the real man, she now reasoned. Superman was enjoying himself way too much. She couldn’t believe her eyes and ears.
Back in the cell, Sgt. Walters was becoming excited enough that he had pulled out his own hard-on, and was busy stroking while he watched the debauchery of Superman. Finally he couldn’t resist any longer and got up to join in the fun. He went over and patted Harrow on the shoulder as if he was cutting in on the dance floor. “Finish in his other pussy, would you Mr. Harrow? I’ve gotta get some of that pussy for myself!”
Bart Harrow, rammed balls deep into Superman and then quickly pulled all the way out with a loud sloppy sloshing sound. Precum and assjuice sprayed over Superman’s bared red ass, while Sgt. Walters took up position between the sex crazed hero’s legs. As the sergeant entered the fucked out hole, Bart Harrow took his place on the bed at Superman’s head. Without resistance his Gal, opened wide to accept his slimy stiff dork. Superman felt both cocks work in conjunction. When Walters rammed forward, Harrow pulled out, the vice-versa. In rhythm, the two fuckers rode their sex toy. Superman swayed back and forth along with their motions, his own engorged member leaking and burping alien sex juice into the pouch. The fuck crazed ex crime fighter had absolutely no resistance left. He sucked both cocks at both ends, with his newly formed ass and mouth cunts. There was no going back.
After what felt like hours to Superman, in unison both of his rapists howled and released their enormous loads directly into Superman’s battered holes. Both men kept their cocks embedded in the fucked out superhero’s body for a few more minutes whilst they deflated. Then as instructed, Superman cleaned both invaders with his now expert cocksucking mouth.
While Sgt. Walters received his cleaning, he informed the cellmates of the reason for his visit. “Supes, it’s visiting day for you.” he stated. “You have a few visitors coming this afternoon. Word has leaked out in the jail here that you are staying with us. Some of the other prisoners want to come see for themselves. Most of them are guys that you helped to put here, so we only thought it fitting that you should accept their invitations to visit. And I know you are going to be the hostess with the mostest, aren’t you?”
The sergeant put himself away and buckled up as Superman looked up from the bunk at him with questioning pleading eyes. What else could he endure. Surely this sadist didn’t expect him to put out for a bunch of low life criminals. The dejected alien, fell down on his belly on the bed, exhausted and spent. His head dangled over the edge of the slimy mattress, where his fuzzy eyes shot opened at the pile of gear that lay in the floor of the cell.
Sgt. Walters noticed the new look of terror that swept over his captive’s face. “Oh, I see you’ve noticed the uniform for your first visitations, Supersis.”
He walked over to the pile of gear and picked a heavy piece up. Superman couldn’t believe what he saw. The sergeant was holding what appeared to be some sort of saddle, the type that a horse would wear, complete with stirrups. On the floor was a pile of other leather and rubber. Superman didn’t recognize many of the items but a couple caught his eye with distressing trepidation. The things looked like what could only be hooves. That’s right actual horses hooves, attached to some sort of rubber legging devices, covered in leather straps. Superman lay with his head dangling off the bunk in shock as the sergeant explained the gear. “Yep that’s right Supes, you are gonna be the entertainment today for the jail. Some of the prisoners have been asking for pony rides. Do you believe that? Big ole criminal masterminds and all they want is a pony ride.” Sgt. Walters shot a dastardly full faced smirk towards the shocked superhero. “So anyway the guys will be here soon , we’d better get you all kitted out, ponyboy!” With that said he dropped the saddle and grasped hold of Superman’s sloppy wet hair. He yanked the scared muscle man into the middle of the floor, and said to Bart Harrow, “Mr. Harrow would you be so kind as to help me get our pony ready for his visitors.” Both men began laughing as Superman tried to squirm away.