The characters in this work are fan fiction and are the property of DC Comics, no copyright infringement is intended. Sexual material written for adult readers only.
Left alone in the Kryptonite chamber, Superman wasted no time pulling with all his might against the chains that held him. No use; he was held fast without his superpowers to call on. It then occurred to him not to pull at all four chains at once, but to focus on just one. With all his considerable muscle weight, Superman pulled with against the chain holding his left arm in place. He leaned to the right as far as the chains would allow, contracting his whole body’s musculature in an effort to break the chain. Once again he felt himself beginning to sweat, and now he also felt his muscles working against the metal that held him fast. Despite the lack of give in the chain, Superman refused to give up his efforts, tugging, leaning, pulling as hard as he could. The chain would not budge. Superman hoped this new sweat he was experiencing might come in handy, helping the cuffs slide off, but they gripped the tight skin-hugging fabric of his costume and his boots rather than his skin. The more he struggled, the more he felt his suit rubbing against his increasingly sweaty body. The sensation was completely novel – Superman had never truly felt his costume before. He had simply designed something for ease of motion. It had never crossed his mind that it might “feel” any particular way.
Lex reentered the room, without Lois. “She’s on her way to safety, Superman.”
“Luthor, you need to realize I’ll never believe a word you say.”
“I think I can change that, Superman. In fact, I know I can. You’ll believe me before you leave here.”
“What torture do you have in mind, Luthor?”
Lex stopped in his tracks. And he laughed, long and loud. “Oh, my God! Superman, I’m not going to torture you!”
“Then what henchman is going to do it for you?”
“None. Superman, the point of my experiment isn’t pain. It’s pleasure.”
Superman stopped pulling at his chains at that remark. Pleasure? Surely Luthor had finally lost what was left of his mind.
“We’re going to start with some questions, Superman. Now that you no longer have your superpowers, I can inject you with a truth serum. But I don’t want to do that – I don’t want anything to interfere with your experience here. So if you give me your word of honor, Superman, that you’ll tell me the truth, I won’t use this needle.” Lex gestured to a small tray with a hypodermic and a small vial of fluid beside it. Superman weighed the options. He hated giving Luthor even the smallest advantage, but not knowing what that vial might hold, and given his situation, trapped, held in irons, he had no choice but to offer Luthor his word. “Thank you, Superman. I believe you. First question: Prior to our experience in the antechamber a few minutes ago, had you ever sweated?”
After a moment, Superman said, “No.”
“Interesting. Had you ever felt heat?”
“What about cold? Have you ever felt cold?”
“No. Luthor, did you trap me here just to ask me questions about temperature?”
With a small smile, Lex said, “Hardly. But to continue: Describe for me what happens when a villain’s bullet hits your body and is deflected away.”
“What do you mean, Luthor?”
“Tell me about it. Give me a Superman’s-eye-view of the scenario. It certainly happens often enough.”
“All right.” Superman, unsure of what exactly Luthor wanted him to say, became distracted for a moment as he noticed his arms were actually beginning to feel…what was it? He felt the lactic acid building in his enormous arm muscles as they stayed stretched out at his sides, and he knew blood flow was slowly decreasing in them as well. He shook his arms a bit.
“Wait a moment, Superman – why did you just shake your arms?”
“They feel strange. It was an impulse to shake them, to encourage blood flow.”
“Superman!” Lex’s eyes had grown slightly wider. “Do you know what you’re feeling?” Silence from the Man of Steel compelled Lex to add, with a grin, “You’re feeling tired.” Again, no verbal response from Superman, though he did look at Luthor with an expression that bordered on surprise. “All right, back to the question. A ‘bad guy’ fires a bullet at you. Talk me through what happens to you.”
“A criminal or would-be criminal fires a bullet at me. It strikes my suit, most often, though occasionally it will hit my head or hand. The bullet is deflected at high speed, so if I calculate that the bullet’s rebound trajectory will pose danger to anyone in the vicinity, I catch the bullet with my hand rather than let it bounce away. If there is no such threat, I let the bullet fly away – ”
“No, no, Superman. I don’t want a scientific analysis. I want to know what your physical experience is.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Luthor.” And indeed, Superman didn’t. Physical experience, being hit by a bullet? Didn’t Luthor know he was invulnerable?
But Luthor seemed excited by that reply. “So your only experience being hit by a bullet is that you calculate the trajectory it will take? You don’t feel anything at all?”
Luthor stood, and stepped a little closer to the helpless hero. “That’s what I thought. Now I have another question, which is very personal, Superman. But I remind you that you gave me your word you’d answer my questions honestly. And I also remind you that I still have that hypodermic handy.”
“I know,” Superman said heatedly.
“Superman…are you a virgin?”
The question so shocked the captive that he was unable to speak for a moment. He felt his face growing warm as he struggled to find words.
“Why, Superman, you’re blushing!”
With that, Lex Luthor slid open a portion of wall opposite the bound Superman, offering the man in chains a full view of himself. “Don’t even think it, Superman, there’s lead behind that mirror.” Superman still tried to use his heat vision to shatter the mirror, in hopes of opening a chink in the room’s leaden armor. No use. His powers were well and truly gone, though he felt none of the deep pain he’d felt in previous exposure to Kryptonite. Luthor had done his homework thoroughly, Superman had to admit.
Superman took a look at himself across the way, limbs spread and held out by chains, body in the familiar costume. The absence of his cape threw into sharper relief the red briefs and yellow belt around his crotch and waist. His wide back and huge chest looked most impressive in this pose. Superman glanced via the mirror at Luthor, and saw the villain enraptured at the sight of the hero’s massive form in its tight blue and red sheath. The sight of Luthor observing him, and of the apparent bulge in Luthor’s pants, caused yet another new and unexpected sensation in Superman, in his stomach – a small flip, is how he’d describe it. And yet, again, this was nothing like the typical nausea he’d come to associate with Kryptonite. Indeed, this new feeling was…well, it was actually nice, and that notion itself was disorienting.
“Look good, don’t you, Superman? I mean, you knew you were more developed than 99% of earth’s men, but that didn’t have real meaning to you until now, am I right?” No words from Superman, who was still processing wave after wave of sensory information. “Never mind. I want you to answer my other question. Are you a virgin?”
“No, Luthor, I am not a virgin,” replied the hero with more than a trace of hostility.
“And how many sexual partners have you had, Superman?”
After a long moment, of silence, the Man of Steel answered, “One.”
“And was your partner, Lois Lane?” Superman whipped his head around to face Luthor directly, with as much fury as he had ever felt. “Don’t misunderstand me, Superman. I’m not denigrating you or Miss Lane. After all, sex is a normal, healthy thing…for those of us born on Earth, anyway. Have you two consummated your friendship?”
“Yes, Luthor. Enough questions about Lois – I’ll tell you what you like about myself, but she’s off limits.”
“Fair enough, Superman. I will no longer mention her. Tell me what happens when you have sex.”
“What?” Superman was frustrated, and perplexed. “Luthor, don’t tell me you don’t know about the birds and the bees.”
“Of course I do. Just tell me what your experience is. Like you did regarding the bullets.”
Superman sighed. This inquisition was irritating, but he could finally see no harm in it. “With my ability to control my body, I send blood to fill my penis. When it is erect, I insert it into the woman’s vagina – after making sure she’s sufficiently aroused, of course. I slide it in and out, slowly at first, then more quickly. I slightly alter the angle of entry to vary her experience. When I sense from her heartbeat and blood flow that she is nearing orgasm, I trigger an ejaculation.”
Luthor stared, enrapt. “That’s your sexual experience?”
“With minor variations, yes. I also perform and receive oral sex, whatever my partner desires.”
“And what about what you desire, Superman?”
“My goal is to provide pleasure for my partner.”
“What do you feel when you, as you said, trigger your erection?”
Superman sighed. “I see my penis growing larger and firmer.”
“You see it, yes. Do you feel it?”
A pause. “No.”
“And what about your ejaculation. What do you feel then?”
“I feel semen travel from my testicles through my urethra and out the head of my penis.”
“And is that the extent of it?”
“Yes. Luthor, how many more questions do you have like this?” Superman shifted his weight, as he realized his arms were truly beginning to tire.
“Have you ever initiated sex with your partner, Superman?”
“Yes, if I have determined that enough time has passed that she may desire it.”
“But not for your own satisfaction?”
For the first time he had to face a truth he found as interesting as it was disturbing: “I’ve never wanted to.”
“Thank you, Superman. I realize this is difficult to speak about. I appreciate your honesty. Have you figured out my little theory yet?” Lex walked around so that he was standing directly in front of his prisoner, not touching him but as close as he could be without doing so. “It’s my theory that your famed invulnerability has not only prevented you from feeling pain. It’s also prevented you from feeling anything sensory at all – including pleasure.”
Lex smiled. Superman felt his jaw go slack.
“Superman, I’ll be honest with you. I’m gay, as you know. And I’m wildly attracted to you – as I’d be willing to bet most of the gay men and straight women on the planet are.” Lex adjusted his bulge. Superman, his attention arrested for a moment by the motion, quickly looked away.
“I have had people express their admiration for my body, Luthor.”
“But it’s never really meant anything to you, has it? It hasn’t turned you on, right, Man of Steel?”
“That’s a common turn of phrase. ‘Turned on.’”
“A phrase that’s always been meaningless to you, in any kind of real way. You don’t need to answer me. I know it’s true.”
Lex Luthor put his hands on the captive Superman’s chest, and Superman felt the warmth those hands had to offer. Never in his life had Superman felt anything like it – it was such a solid feeling, a sense of much more than the mere caloric increase from the proximity of flesh. It was so…complicated, so confusing. There was real warmth in that touch, not just a clinical rise of temperature – actual warmth. Superman struggled to understand just what was happening to him. As Luthor slowly and subtly rubbed his hands across Superman’s chest, the hero felt his breathing grow slightly quicker and shallower. When Luthor sent his thumb across Superman’s right nipple, the combination of heat, fabric and nipple made Superman gasp. He was as surprised at his instinctive gasp as he was at the novelty of the sensation.
“I like it, too,” Lex said. He looked into Superman’s eyes, and saw the unguarded surprise there. “You’re beautiful, Superman.”
Superman began to feel his loins tingle – for the first time without his conscious assistance. He glanced down at his crotch and saw the swelling there, the shift of his penis growing larger. Luthor watched it happening, too, and put his hand on his own crotch. Superman said, with some difficulty, “What’s going on?”
“You’re feeling, Superman. Not all bad, is it?” Lex took his hand off his pants, and stepped back from the man in chains. Superman tugged in vain at the bonds that held him – he had to escape, get out of here, try to figure out what the hell was happening to him. Not once had he ever considered that a low dose of Kryptonite might open this Pandora’s box of sensation, and he felt a tremor of helplessness at the thought that Luthor had trapped him here. Superman was shocked, even as he pulled at the chains, that the knowledge of his helplessness caused that pleasant stomach flip to reoccur.
“It’s so hot when you struggle, Superman.”
Superman stopped, and stared at the visibly aroused Lex Luthor. Superman determined not to give the architect of his capture any more satisfaction than he could possibly help. He focused his mind on the situation at hand: Kryptonite, chains, a lead-lined room…
“I know, Superman. You’re a man who’s used to the black-and-white of right against wrong. And now everything’s kind of grey. I don’t know about you,” Lex added, “but I’m hot in here.”
Luthor sat in the chair that had formerly held Lois, and took off his expensive leather shoes and silk dress socks. He rubbed his feet, eyeing Superman and saying, “You have no idea how good it feels to rub tired feet. But maybe you will soon.” Lex stood and fixed Superman with a commanding eye lock. “Have you ever watched another man take his clothes off, Superman?”
Superman didn’t answer. His mind was completely locked on the sight of Luthor loosening and removing his tie, then untucking his Egyptian cotton shirt. Slowly, Lex undid the shirt’s collar button, then made his way down the shirt, button by button, slowly opening the shirt. He paused as he got near the bottom of the shirt to shift his package, then undid the final button and took the shirt off. He wore a white A-shirt. Superman had of course made note of Luthor’s vital statistics in their many previous encounters, but now he saw as if for the first time the powerful muscles threading their way through the bald man’s shoulders and chest. His torso was strong and thick, but there was surprisingly little body fat showing. Luthor kept himself in impressive shape. As Luthor slowly ran his right hand over his dick and balls, and his left across his own right nipple through the A-shirt – all the while maintaining the masterful gaze with Superman – the Man of Steel felt his penis stirring even more, and his balls shift as well. Lex smiled cockily. “I like it when you’re turned on, Superman. It’s my fantasy come true. Well, one of my fantasies.” Luthor looked to his own belt, unbuckling it and sliding it out of the loops holding it in place. He coiled it and placed it on the chair. Then he stretched his arms, and untucked his A-shirt. He crossed his arms about his waist and pulled the shirt off in one swift motion. After righting it outside out, he placed it also on the chair beside him.
Superman’s observations had been accurate. Lex had strong arms and shoulders, yes, but his midsection looked tough as a bull’s. His waist was not slim, but neither was it fat – it fell in heavy, solid proportion to the rest of his upper body. Superman noticed Luthor had shaved his underarm hair, and trimmed the hair on his chest and stomach to a short length, practically stubble.
“You’re breathing kind of hard, Superman. Mind if I continue to undress?” Superman nodded without even knowing that he was doing so. Lex’s hands made their way to the waistband of his pants and unhooked the catch there. Superman found himself craning slightly to see what was underneath as Luthor slid down the zipper and reached in to undo the interior button of the trousers. Once that button was undone, Lex slid the pants off smoothly, folded them, and placed them carefully across the back of the chair.
Lex was a vision of masculinity in small black bikini briefs – small, tight briefs, now very full of his swollen cock and sizeable balls. When Luthor turned to set his pants down, Superman saw a nicely shaped ass, as solid as the rest of his frame. Luthor’s legs were similarly solid – a dancer’s legs, though Luthor was stockier than any dancer Superman had seen. Once Lex was wearing nothing but his briefs, he walked slowly over to his captive, his eyes roaming up and down Superman as surely as Superman’s eyes were taking Luthor in.