Superman vs. Don Knotts Part 5
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Author: Unknown

Moderately embellished/enhanced and re-spaced by Rick Henry, 06-2021, Fan fiction for adult readers.



Superman awoke to an empty bed. He groaned and slowly stirred. The room was a shambles. The bed had sprung every spring. The mattress stuffing was piled about like wool at a sheep shearing. The sheets were torn to shreds and stained everywhere. The pillow looked half bitten through. Superman wearily sat up and looked around for his clothes. As he was dressing the memory of what had occurred last night came flooding back to him. He sobbed uncontrollably, his big naked body shaken with grief and humiliation. He tried to rise but felt dizzy and collapsed onto the bed once again. Only then did a now familiar pain arouse him to the continued presence of the Kryptonite. He struggled towards the dressing table, crawling on his hands and knees. He reached for the Kryptonite. It was like grabbing a burning torch, but he fought the urge to fling it away. He looked frantically around the disarray in the room. Finally he realized what he was searching for was not in the room. He fell to his hands and knees onto the floor. Holding his breath and gritting his teeth he bore down. Arching his back he strained until the veins swelled in his temples and his face turned purple with effort. He groaned and wagged his butt. With a loud retort the bullet flew out of his butt as if shot from a rifle. He dug the slug out of the wall. He pulled apart the two halves of the lead bullet casing that originally encased the shard. He dropped the shard inside the base and snapped the tip over it. His powers soon returning he took the extra precaution of sealing it with his heat vision. Sighing with relief he slowly dressed himself and snatching up the bullet prepared to sneak out before Knotts returned.

But as he reached for the doorknob it turned of itself and swung open. Knotts, fully dressed once more in his Deputy Sheriff’s costume, seemed startled that the room was occupied. “What…? Oh, it’s You!” he blurted out. “Hi, George, you still filming next door? Shame you couldn’t have made the after-party. From the looks of this room it was quite a blowout. Not that I can remember anything after taking that first slug.”

Superman couldn’t believe his ears. What sort of a sorry joke was he making? Then he saw the startled look of recognition as Knotts realized he was the real Superman! It was almost an exact replay of their first meeting. As Knotts ran through the formalities of his greeting, it slowly dawned on Superman that Knotts must have blacked out and forgotten everything that happened last night. It was common enough after drinking heavily. Maybe he had even subconsciously blocked it out due to a guilty conscience? Even he had apparently blocked out some of the worst things he’d been forced to perform in bed.

Trying to play along and act like he’d never met Knotts before, Superman was acutely aware of how sore his jaw was, and how painful it was to talk. He first surmised that his jaw must have been jacked by one or more of Knott’s punches. But he seemed to recall when Knotts needed to soften him up in bed prior to forcing him to commit to some particularly obscene act or humiliating position he had pounded his belly or spanked his sore buttocks red and raw to make the superhero submit to whatever he commanded. Otherwise when he had proved recalcitrant, he simply bitch-slapped the Man of Tomorrow until Superman turned over on his stomach and let him have his way with him. It took several minutes to realize his voice was raspy and his throat dry and raw. Only then did the memory of his training in the fine art of cock-sucking that Knotts had drilled into him for hours return…. Nearly breaking his jaws. And of how Knotts had hungrily, greedily gone down on him, too. Taking him to the edge time and again and then cruelly slacking off, until Superman begged for sweet release.

Superman could barely control his anger. More than once he pictured Knotts reduced to a pile of ashes by an all-consuming blast of his heat vision. If looks could kill, and his could indeed, then Superman’s grim visage would have spelled instant death for the chipper looking actor. Righteous indignation was his, but something held him back. Nothing could reverse what had occurred last night. But as far as Knotts knew nothing had—aside from a wild cast party. If he simply walked away now he could keep his shame a secret. Knotts could go on as before, living a life of frustration and mild perversion. Perhaps some handsome young actor would drive him over the edge someday, and be forced to endure a night of debauchery as he had. But Superman couldn’t stop every crime that may or may not occur in the future. Nor always avenge those of the past.

“I’m sorry I missed George,” he covered himself. “I thought he’d be here. Would you give him my best when you see him? He’s doing a fine job recreating my exploits. He’s a real role model to the kids. Just as Andy and… you are.” Superman nearly choked on that last part as badly as he had when Knotts first forced his monstrous cock down his throat. He lurched for the door, anxious to end this awkward encounter.

“Well thanks for stopping by Superman, it’s nice to know what a fan of mine you are. Oh. Just one favor before you leave, though” Knotts added as Superman reached the doorway. “I seem to have lost something in all the goings on last night. This room is such a disaster I’m afraid I’ll never locate it and the maids may throw it out. It’s something quite precious to me. The bullet I carry in my pocket as a prop in the show. It’s sort of a lucky charm. It’s made of lead, so if you would be so kind to scan the room with your x-ray vision, it should be easy to spot.” Knotts sounded so sincere and guileless Superman couldn’t think of any way to politely refuse.

The bullet was still in his hand so it was easy to fake a quick glance, bend down and appear to retrieve the bullet from under the sagging ruins of the bed. Superman reluctantly handed it over to the comedian. He would have preferred destroying the Kryptonite for good. But inasmuch as Don seemed to have had no idea it was Kryptonite, even during their fight last night, it could conceivably remain safely sealed in its leaden cover forever. Anyway, Superman intended to give Knotts a wide birth from now on in any case. As Clark, he’d have to ask for the Crime Beat instead of the Celebrity Circuit. It would be safer.

Superman edged towards the door again as Knotts profusely thanked him. “Gosh, I would be lost without this. I know it sounds like a typical actor’s silly superstition. Someone like you probably can’t appreciate how some people need a confidence booster. You don’t know what it is to lose a fight,” Knotts went on. “But with this little ‘Rabbit’s Lead Foot’ I feel like I can beat the strongest man in the world,” Knotts beamed brightly.

Superman grimly kept his composure, but continued to see flashes of Knotts as a pile of ashes on the floor. He turned once more to leave.

“You know,” Knotts rambled on, blithely ignoring Superman’s attempts to make a gracious exit, “for a moment there I actually had this crazy idea you had taken it. Crazy, huh? Like you would ever need a lucky charm. Nothing bad could ever happen to the invincible, all-powerful Superman, eh? And besides, where would you have hidden it, you don’t even have pockets in that skin-tight costume of yours, unless…” Knotts snorted a laugh as if anticipating some hilarious punchline “—unless it had been shoved it up your ass!”

Superman froze like a statue in the doorway, the blood draining from his face. Knott’s cheery smile faded from his face, supplanted by a grimly satisfied smirk. “Oh, now I remember,” he said with a showy slap against the side of his head to indicate forgetfulness. “I took pictures! Too!”

Superman was dumbfounded all over again. “P… Pictures?” he finally blurted out.

“You better watch that, Superman. Stuttering is MY bread and butter as an actor, sort of my signature. Don’t make me come over there and beat the crap out of you for stealing my thunder!” Knotts laughed at his own wit. “Now that’s funny—Superman getting the almighty crap beat out of him by Don Knotts! Who would ever believe that, huh?” Don said, turning to look around the room. “Now, what did I do with those pictures, and the cameras and equipment as well?” he mused to himself.

“What are you talking about?” Superman asked, unable to contain his anxiety.

“The party last night, I’m sure I took pictures. I had the cameraman show me how to set the automatic features on both the still camera and the movie camera recently. It must have caught all the action last night. I’ll have to find where I put them afterwards, and process the film and the negatives of the photographs. Say, you said you were sorry you missed the cast party. Well, you don’t have to worry now. Why don’t you just come over my place Friday night, and we can go over them. I’m sure they will jog my memory as to every detail of our shenanigans,” Knotts invited.

“That’s very kind of you, but as you can imagine I’m quite busy, Mr. Knotts,” Superman brusquely answered.

“Oh, why so formal, Supes? Just call me Don. Gee, it would be a shame if you didn’t come. I guess I’ll have to call those tabloid reporters over instead, they love pictures of wild Hollywood parties,” Don said with seemingly genuine disappointment.

Superman got a chill down his spine. “I…don’t think that is wise, Mr.… uh, Don,” he said.

“Oh, no? Well, perhaps you’re right. Can’t be too careful. Don’t know what’s in those pictures. Could be quite scandalous. Wouldn’t want to shock all those little boys who look up to us, eh? Still, you wouldn’t mind seeing guys letting their hair down, and indulging in some naughty behavior, would you? Seven o’clock, then?” Don asked.

Superman considered the proposal for some time. Finally, he mumbled “I-uh… I’ll be there.”

“Great!” Don enthused. “It’s a date then, eh? And maybe if you enjoy yourself, we can make it a regular thing.” Knotts boldly walked up to Superman and slowly looked him up and down lasciviously. The cheery mask of insouciance fell away, replaced by the stern bark of the Drill Instructor. “And you will enjoy it, Pretty Boy! I guarantee, you will enjoy every minute of it!!”

Superman simply stared in pure disbelief, then turned slowly and meekly left. As he stumbled along the passage like a sleep-walker, he heard Knotts’ laughter echo down the hallway as he shouted after him, “I guess there IS a ‘new Sheriff in Town,’ now! Hey, Super-Butt?!

His grimaced face… turning red as his cape.

Yet as he walked, more and more he felt that odd, strange warm tingling deep, deep within him… with some alarm. “Body memory,” they call it. Really? Something experienced, achingly re-craved. Realizing Knotts had never known about the Kryptonite. Would now never even need to use it, if he did….


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