Breaking Superman Chapter 7 and Epilogue
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Hey these are the chapters that I didn’t have from the Breaking Superman story. Many thanks to Rick Henry to share with me these last chapters.

Breaking Superman

Author: smdown

Chapter 7


Lex Luther had not been disappointed to accept his invitation ‘for front row seats to the destruction of the Man of Steel.’ When he first arrived at the office building on 17th Street, he’d had severe misgivings. The location was so close to the ceremony for Superman that the streets were thronged with people. When Lex entered the drab conference room, he found seating for 8 people in front of a large TV screen. He was first to arrive, but the room soon filled. The first new arrival was a disgraced ex-police chief whose corruption had been exposed by Superman. Next came a famous mafia boss, then a known drug dealer. Jonas Fowler entered the room next, a man who had recently been released from prison after drugging and groping a famous football star – he had been caught by Superman. Soon, all eight seats were occupied by undesirable men, all of who could be described as enemies of Superman.

Soon after their arrival, the show began. The TV came on, relaying images from the event in the square above. The eight men groaned at the sound of the words of the mayor and booed at the smug, self-satisfied speech of the Man of Steel. But soon the scene changed. The men watched transfixed as events turned against the hero, reveling in his exposure and public humiliation. At the sight of the hero being unceremoniously hauled off stage by the impressive young nerd, the villains clapped in approval. “A great show!” they said to each other. “What will become of that do-gooding hero now, I wonder?” asked Fowler.

Suddenly the door to the conference room slammed open and in the doorway stood the diminutive figure of Jack. The eight villains looked on silently as Jack entered the room dragging the dejected figure of Superman behind him, tugging on the front of the hero’s belt to force him into the room. It seemed so wrong for the huge muscular form of the hero to be controlled and manhandled by this smaller, younger man. Superman, his cheeks glowing red with humiliation, glanced around the room. His heart quaked as he recognized the smiling faces of these villains. He recalled with horror the actions he’s taken against each and every one of these men and the superior, patronizing words he’s used against them. Lex stared at the hero, taking him in from head to toe. Remembering Superman’s visit just days before, Lex marveled at the transformation. The hero looked beaten. And the idea of stripping Superman and then forcing him to wear only his red trunks and boots was inspired. It was such an insult to the hero to transform his appearance this way: from proud hero to sexual object.

“Say hello to my new toy, boys. I’ve decided to be generous and share my possession,” said Jack. “Now, Slaveboy,“ he continued, “you are going to put on a little performance for these men… a little solo show for their enjoyment.”

“This has gone too far,” replied the hero, desperately, trying to show some authority in front of the villains. “I won’t be performing for you or anyone else. And when the authorities burst in here to stop this little game, you’ll regret your actions.”

Jack’s laughed with disdain. “Those are strong words for a man who, only a few minutes ago, wet his panties and was on his knees begging for mercy.” Superman’s face darkened.

Approaching from behind, Fowler grabbed Superman and pulled him towards him. Superman shuddered at the feel of the pervert’s hot breath on the back of his neck. He could feel Fowler’s hands all over his body, exploring the contours of his muscular torso. “Come on, Superman,” whispered Fowler into his ear, “don’t disappoint us.” A shiver went down the hero’s spine and he felt Fowler’s tongue slowly moving up the side of his neck. Superman could feel the pervert’s erect cock pressing into his ass crack through his trunks but was powerless to pull himself away from the clasp of the older man.

“Mmm..” whispered Fowler breathily into his ear, enjoying the hero’s gasps and grimaces, “feeling your body struggling in my arms is only making me harder.” Fowler reached into his pocket and then, slowly running his hand over the rippling abdominals, reached for Superman’s waistband. Superman looked down to see the pervert’s chubby fingers tuck a $1 bill under his yellow belt. Fowler released the hunk from his grasp but immediately Lex grabbed Superman’s belt, pulling the hero towards him and positioning him on his lap. “Come on,” said Lex as he slapped one of the hero’s exposed thighs, “give us a little show.” Lex also deposited a $1 bill into the hero’s waistband. Each of the villains had their turn, slapping, pinching and touching up the vulnerable body of the once-great hero.

“It’s time for your performance,” called out Jack in his high clear voice. “Get here in front of your audience.” Jack dragged Superman to the front of the room. “It’s time to lower your trunks. You’re going to pleasure yourself for our enjoyment. Grab your cock, Supes, and work it until you spurt.”

“No… you can’t make me do that!” stammered Superman in horror, “Please….”

“When will you learn to stop answering back?” asked Jack as he reached for the black rod and savagely rammed it into the center of the muscle man’s chest. Superman screamed as the electric shock racked his body. “Submit, Slaveboy, or you know I’ll shock you again and again until you comply.”

And so Superman did as he had been instructed. Lowering his trunks, he stood before the eight men and, wearing only his red boots, took his generous cock and began rubbing it. Closing his eyes to avoid the hungry gazes of the eight men sitting before him, he worked his cock, feeling it harden in his fist. He continued pumping, moaning as the stimulation made his cock tingle and pulsate. Within a few minutes, his moaning reached a climax as, his whole body, now jerking with pleasure, generous volumes of cum spurted onto the floor.

Before he could even draw breath, Superman found himself forced down onto the floor by Jack. He felt a hand on the back of his head forcing his face inches from the streaks of cum on the floor. “Clean up after yourself, you dirty boy,” spat Jack vindictively. “Lick it up. Now!”

Superman, powerless to resist, obeyed the command. Touching his tongue to the wooden floor, he crawled forwards with Jack’s controlling hand on the back of his neck, licking the salty fluid and reluctantly swallowing it down. The eight villains stood by, admiring the scene before them. It was an amazing sight to see the powerful shoulder muscles and back muscles contracting and working as the hero crawled along licking up his own cum.

“Good boy,” said Jack, patting his new possession on the head once the job was done. “Now Slaveboy, it would be selfish of me to keep you all for myself, so I’m going to leave you here with your new friends for two hours. I’m sure you’ll all play nicely together whilst I’m gone.” Superman looked up at Jack, his handsome face contorted with disgust and fear. “There, there,” soothed Jack, “I’ll be back to take care of you soon.” Jack walked out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving the naked Superman kneeling in the center of the room, his enemies circling around him.

“Let me speak,” said Superman, rising to his feet. “Before you do anything to me, let me talk.” The villains hesitated for a moment, interested to hear what the Man of Stee lhad to say for himself. “Listen,” he continued, “my weakness is only temporary. I’m only vulnerable when I’m near this green substance. If you help me get away from Jack, my superpowers will return.” Superman gulped. “And then I can use my powers to help and serve you. Help to free me and I will make it worth your while.” Superman saw the villains glancing at each other and felt a glimmer of hope.

Lex stepped forward from the group. “Astonishing!” he said. “So much for truth and justice, Superman! The minute the chips are down, it seems you are willing to abandon your high-minded principles!” He walked towards the hero, who bowed his head in shame. “Not only has that young man broken your body, it seems he has broken your spirit.” The superhero, his shoulders hunched, his face downcast, backed off as Lex advanced on him. “So, to save yourself, you’ve agreed to sell your soul to the devil! Shame on you.” Superman winced. The truth of Lex’s words hurt. He had sunk lower than he ever thought possible. “For your pathetic display,” continued Lex, “I’m going to fuck you extra hard.”

“No, Lex, not that. Please not that! You know this is wrong. Look at me!” said the hunk, spreading out his arms. “Look at my strong body. You know of my power. You must be able to see how wrong it is for me to be used in this way.”

“Oh, but don’t you see?” replied Lex, “it is your narcissism and your arrogance that make your downfall all the more delicious.” Lex landed a carefully aimed punch into Superman’s chiseled abdomen. Winded, he fell to the floor and suddenly Lex was right in front of him, loosening his fly. Before her could react, he could feel his full red lips being forced apart by Lex’s swollen cock. Grasping the hero’s head in his hands, Lex forced his cock deep into the throat of the hunk. Superman gurgled and choked, his face reddening. Now Superman could feel his hips being grabbed by Fowler from behind. As the pervert thrust his throbbing cock into that perfect muscle butt, the hero’s cries were muffled as Lex’s cock plunged into his throat again and again.

Fowler shouted: “Your ass is so tight, Supes!” as he gripped the hero’s hair in his hand and fucked mercilessly, his sweaty balls thwacking on the hero’s ass cheeks with each thrust.

Superman felt sickened by the meaty taste of Lex’s manhood. As Lex groaned and reached climax, he could feel his throat and mouth filling with the salty cum of his enemy. Lex reached forward and grasped the hero’s nose. Superman looked up, his blue eyes meeting Lex’s gaze.  “Swallow, Superman!” ordered Lex with an expression of sadistic pleasure on his face, “swallow my cum. Now!” Superman’s body bucked and squirmed in resistance. But with Lex’s still hard cock forced into his mouth he couldn’t breath. He was drowning on Lex’s cum. He had no choice. Grimacing, he swallowed that silky, salty fluid. Lex released his cock, and stood back marveling at the sight of his nemesis panting and retching, whilst some sick pervert continued to fuck him from behind. It wasn’t long before Fowler finished, groaning as he emptied himself into Superman’s body. But the ordeal wasn’t over for the muscle man. Each of the villains wanted their turn. Manhandling and positioning the hero for their enjoyment, each had a chance to use the hero.

Jack sat in a waiting area, one leg crossed over the other thigh. He flicked through a magazine. To an outside observer, his casual demeanor would have suggested he was waiting for a dental check-up. His wristwatch beeped three times and, glancing at the time on his watch, he sighed. “OK. The two hours is up” he muttered to himself. He stood up and walked to a nearby door. He knocked twice and entered the room. The eight men sat in chairs around the edge of the room with happy expressions on their face. Many of them were breathing heavily, catching their breaths. In the center of the room was the kneeling figure of the hero, naked apart from his red leather boots, which had remained on his feet throughout his ordeal.

Jack circled the hero to inspect his property. Cum was dripping from his face and nose. His ass was also covered in cum. Across the hero’s heaving pectoral muscles, five horizontal red scratch marks could be seen. “My, my,” observed Jack, “someone’s been clawing at your chest.” Jack bent down to inspect the bite marks on the hero’s round muscular glutes. “Looks like you’ve very popular with your new friends. But playtime’s over I’m afraid. I’m taking you home now, Slaveboy. I’ve built a little place for you to stay in my basement. Come along.”

Affixing a tight leather collar to Superman’s neck, he dragged on the attached leash. The defeated hero crawled behind helplessly, hopelessly ruined… as his new master led him from the room. His fate was sealed.  He knew now he would never be free, his life was truly over….

The End





Jimmy Olsen arrived at Star Labs as planned. He had received an invitation from John Jenkins the new CEO of the lab with the promise of a top story. In recent months, Jimmy’s talents had been noticed at the Daily Planet and he’d been promoted to a reporting role. Mr. Jenkins greeted the young reporter in the foyer and gave Jimmy a warm handshake. “Hello, my name is John Jenkins, but you can call me Jack.” At first, Jimmy didn’t recognize the man greeting him. But a second look confirmed that this was the same man who had attacked Superman on stage nine months previously. Jack’s face was well known after images and clips from Superman’s public humiliation had been beamed around the world. The footage had been absolute gold for news networks and the internet had been awash with uncensored coverage of the event. Jack looked different. He wore a smart suit, his thin face had filled out a little and his body, previously slim, was now bulkier. Jimmy suddenly felt nervous in the presence of this man, but tried not to show it.

“Come for a coffee,” said Jack, leading Jimmy into a café within the lab complex.

“I have some questions for you…. If you don’t mind,” said Jimmy, taking a notepad and pen out of his bag.

“Go ahead,” replied the affable Jack.

“You are the man who brought down Superman,” began Jimmy daringly. “How did you get away with it?”

“Well Jimmy, you’re quite right. And I was worried after my stunt on stage. The authorities caught up with me and questioned me. But Jimmy… and this is off the record… Not all the Great and Good of Metropolis were too upset to see the demise of Superman.”

“What do you mean?” asked Jimmy.

“Not all of the city’s officials are above repute. There is a fair amount of corruption going on. Some of the city’s leaders felt Superman was in danger of getting too close – of exposing them. It suited them to see him out of the way. So let’s just say, some strings were pulled for me. No charges were brought against me. And I was allowed to keep my prize. Now Jimmy, bring your notepad and follow me. I’m going take you to a secret facility I set up in the lab.” Jack added menacingly: “I’m sure you’re smart enough to know not to report on its location” Jimmy gulped. He had a feeling he was about to enter the lion’s den.

Jack took Jimmy down into the basement level of the lab complex and through a labyrinth of dark corridors. “He we are,” said Jack as he waved his ID card over a panel by the side of a large steel door. The doors slid open to reveal a well-lit room with a clean rubber floor and gleaming chrome and glass panels. “This is my personal research facility,” continued Jack, waving Jimmy into the room. “When I set this up, I decided to use it as an opportunity to give something back to the community. I know it is so difficult for men who have been in prison to find work after their release and everyone deserves a second chance. So all the lab assistants I hired were ex-cons. You’ve probably heard of Jonas Fowler, for example. Of course many of those ex-cons were put away by Superman and so many of them jumped at the opportunity when they found out the research being carried out here would be done on Superman…”

Jimmy was astonished by matter-of-fact way his interviewee disclosed this information.

“Before I tell you more, why don’t we see the fruits of the research,” said Jack. He led Jimmy through some more sliding doors into a large warehouse-like space. In the center of the room, Jimmy saw Superman on all fours. He seemed to be scrubbing the floor. As they approached, Jimmy noticed that the hero was wearing his signature blue suit and red trunks, although instead of being in pristine condition as usual, the blue fabric was smeared with grease and dirt. “I apologize for his appearance, he only wears that suit for his cleaning duties now.” Jimmy noticed the ex-hero wasn’t wearing his cape but was instead using it as a rag to clean the floor, dipping a corner into a bucket of dirty soapy water before scrubbing the floor with it. “So you can see,” continued Jack “that his physique is unchanged. His body is just as muscular as the last time you saw him.”

Jimmy looked down at the form of the hero, noticing the contours of his huge toned shoulder muscles and biceps through his tight suit, contracting as he scrubbed. His muscular back was as broad as ever. “However, I can assure you,” continued Jack, “that those muscles are very weakened. By the way, he doesn’t respond to the name Superman anymore, he only answers to Slaveboy.”

As Jack and Jimmy approached, Superman looked up. He was clearly amazed to see a familiar face. “I didn’t order you to stop cleaning,” shouted Jack angrily. With an open palm, he laid a heavy slap across Superman’s chiseled face.

“I’m sorry sir,” replied the hero in that familiar deep, masculine voice. He turned his attention back to cleaning the floor.

“You can see I have him fairly well-trained. I have something more to show you,” said Jack, turning towards the other end of the large room.

Superman’s heart skipped a beat. As Jack turned away from him, he glanced up at Jimmy, his old friend. Jimmy looked back and surreptitiously winked.

“It may have taken months, but finally help is at hand,” thought the hero. He was sure that his old friends at the Daily Planet had arranged this tour. Jimmy was scoping out the lab. No doubt Lois and Perry White were in on it and were planning a rescue. A sense of hope and optimism rose inside him for the first time in months.

“This way,” said Jack, walking along. “I realized that the green mineral I used to control Superman would ultimately kill him after prolonged exposure,” said Jack as he led Jimmy across the warehouse. “I realized that I could water down the effects of the mineral. Certain compounds would have individualized effects on his body. To cut a long story short, I developed a compound of this green mineral that will allow him to experience pain, and yet keeps him strong as an ox, or underpowered … (enough to momentarily lose an arm wrestling match against a 90-year-old woman, or a 12 year old boy, if I so chose to limit him)… but which maintains his body’s might if needed or ordered to use, plus extraordinary regenerative powers. Basically, that means he will always look youthful, will always have a shapely muscular physique, and he has super-healing powers. That means that if I cut him, the cut will heal immediately. It also means that if I spend the day fucking him, the next day his asshole will still be as tight as a virgin’s.”

Jimmy coughed at the sound of these coarse words delivered so calmly.

“I’ll show you how I achieved it” continued Jack, approaching a large contraption in the corner of the room covered in a dustsheet. Jack pulled down the sheet to reveal a large metal table, tilted at a 45-degree angle. Leather neck, wrist and ankle straps were attached to its steel surface. “You see, I couldn’t expose the experimental compounds to Superman directly. If the mix was too strong  he might die instantly—too weak and I could have a fully recharged superhuman to deal with. So I tested the chemicals on a surrogate. I investigated their effects on his sperm.” Jack stepped away to reveal a nine-inch long pump attached to a length of tubing that connected to a complex-looking machine. “I tested hundreds of compounds before I discovered the perfect one which would keep Superman exactly as I want him. Obviously, that required a large volume of his semen.”

Jimmy looked on in shock.

“Don’t look too shocked,” Jack went on. “I love my job. Every day it was a pleasure to walk into my lab sipping on my morning coffee to see a fallen god bound to this table.” Jack tapped on the cold steel. “Of course I’m sure it was not so pleasant for him. For weeks he would spend many hours a day up here, this pump working on his cock, sucking his balls dry… Let’s go back and have a look at him.”

“Of course, the compound itself was not enough to ensure his obedience,” explained Jack, as he ambled back towards Superman. “So let me demonstrate something for you.” As the two men approached the crouched figure of the ex-hero, Jack said: “I want you to shine Jimmy’s shoes, Slaveboy.” Superman, without hesitation, crawled towards Jimmy and brought a corner of his red cape towards Jimmy’s shoe. “No, you idiot,” said Jack slapping Superman on the head, “don’t use your dirty floor rag to clean our guest’s shoes.”

“What would you like me to use, sir?” replied Superman submissively.

“Are there no other cloths around here? Hmm.. I have an idea. Use your red trunks for the job, Slaveboy.” Superman looked up in confusion. “You heard me! Remove your trunks and use them to clean his shoes.” Superman obeyed. He rose to his feet allowing Jimmy to see his whole body for the first time. Jack was right: his muscles were just as large and toned as they had always been. The red ‘S’ emblazoned on his chest was dirty and tattered, but the pecs beneath were huge. His abdominal muscles rippled as he leaned forward to pull his trunks down. Superman, balling up the red briefs in his hand bent down and used them to polish and shine Jimmy’s shoes. 

“Stop right there, Slaveboy” interrupted Jack.

Jack turned to Jimmy. “I like to invent things. Something I developed were some probes that can stimulate the nervous system. I’ve had some of these probes inserted into Superman’s body. It means that, with a flick of a switch, I can inflict terrible pain, cause muscle spasms and things like that. This is quite useful when you’re trying to tame a beast. Superman has been conditioned to follow orders to avoid these punishments. I know your readers will want me to prove my claims, so I’ll give you a little demonstration of one of my probes.”

“I believe you, Mr. Jenkins. You don’t have to do that,” replied Jimmy.

“No, no. I insist. Let me show you what happens when I activate the probe I’ve had inserted into Superman’s prostate.” Jack reached into his pocket and pressed a button on a small electronic device. Immediately Supermen fell backwards, his body writhing and squirming. Jimmy looked down to the muscular hunk lying at his feet. Without his red trunks, the outline of his cock and balls was clearly visible through the blue fabric of his suit. As Superman started moaning, Jimmy was surprised to see the hero’s cock grow. Soon, his impressive cock was tenting the tight blue material. Superman’s groans grew louder as he rolled around on the floor, every perfect muscle in his body tensing and contracting so that Jimmy could see every sinew in his pecs, thighs and arms through his tight suit. His cock started pulsating and, with ecstatic screams, it started pumping wads of thick cum into his suit, a large wet patch spreading in the crotch area.

“I hope you enjoyed the little show,” said Jack. “Now I’m going to leave you alone with your old friend, Jimmy. I’m sure you have a few questions for him for your newspaper article.” Jack walked to the exit, whistling a tune to himself.

“Thank God, you’re here,” whispered Superman recovering from his orgasm. “Jimmy, I’m so pleased to see you! Who else knows I’m here?” But Jimmy’s reaction was not as Superman had expected. Without replying, he reached into his bag and drew from it a large camera. Without saying a word, he started snapping pictures of the ex-hero, who kneeled before him. Superman automatically moved his hands in front of his crotch, trying to hide the embarrassing wet patch.

“It’s too late, Superman, I’ve already snapped a picture of your cum-filled suit. Oh sorry, I should be calling you Slaveboy.”

Superman’s face paled at the cruel words of his former friend. “Aren’t you here to help me, Jimmy? Aren’t you here to save me from this place?”

“Now, why would I do that, Slaveboy? Your humiliating destruction on live TV was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Besides, I was sick of living in your shadow. With your looks and your body, you always had all the attention. I was always overlooked. Why would I want you back in my life?”

Jimmy’s betrayal hurt Superman. His face winced at the sound of the words as though they were physical blows. “Life has been good for me since you left,” continued Jimmy. “I’ve been promoted. I’ve taken over your desk at the Daily Planet, Clark, and I’m not giving it up. I’ve even been dating Lois. So you, big boy, can stay here and rot!”

A hard slap in the face sent Superman flying to the floor. Jimmy walked calmly away from the heap of muscle lying sobbing on the floor.

“Do you have everything you need for your story?” asked Jack as Jimmy left the room.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Jenkins. I have a feeling the editor will be really interested in my report.”

“Wonderful,” said Jack. “It’s been nice to meet you. Do come back and visit again. And if you want a bit of Slaveboy’s ass… any time, just let me know.”

“Thank you, I might just take you up on that,” replied Jimmy before leaving Star Labs. “But actually I prefer Lois’s. Unless I could use a baseball bat for this freak, here – might be fun… once I get this story out. Finally getting that alien thing contained was a good thing for everyone, it seems. Never knew he was truly a fag at heart, danger to society, way I see it. With his strength, could have coerced or overpowered and raped tons of young boys.  Good job, Jack. Really good job!!  He was just as big a threat as any criminal ever was. You’ve done well….” And winked. “I’ll call you soon. Working on a book about him, now. Playing with “it” more might be fun, for sure….”

The end

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