Superman, The Downward Spiral Chapter 7
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Superman, The Downward Spiral

Author: Unknown

Revised, edited, embellished, and brought to a reasonable conclusion by Rick Henry, even if not entirely plausible, 03-2022.

Disclaimer: Superman and some characters within are owned by D.C. Comics. This is a work of fan fiction: sexually explicit content for mature readers only. (All artwork credited, and permissions given to use.).

Chapter 7: Big Toy – What A Machine!

He found the package and opened it, while Adam looked over his shoulder waiting expectantly. Dennis simply smiled, and dropped the contents of the package onto the desk. Out spilled a pair of dull, glowing green shackles, neck chain, ankle cuffs, and a small medicine container.

“What did chrome dome have to say?”

“He says it will be more effective if we drug him first, once stripped, then clean up. The cuffs and shackles will keep him incapacitated while we wash off. Then we have all night, till 9 a.m. tomorrow. No escape, or possibility. Long as he’s kept bound and down.”

“Strange, all that muscle. Incredible powers. Pussied out so easily.”

“A little help with the green. Whatever it is,” Dennis affirmed.

“For sure, money talks. Works every time.”

“I’ll buy that. How you use it—.”

The hero was laying back rather weakly, moaning strangely. “Wha, what was in that spray? My, my head…. feels so warm, so warm all over.”

“Bad or good, Big Blue? Something called “pink K,” we don’t know. A gift from Mr. Luthor.”

“Oh, no. No, please… not that! Not… how could he—beyond rare,” faltering. Not able to make much sense. Feeling flushed completely through and through, dizzy. “The, the green bad enough… the pink, oh, no…!

The green which he knew made him weak, anyone’s conquest. The pink which supposedly would assault all his sexual centers and control, (or so he had read, never experienced). Make him anyone’s boy. For anything. Worse than a fearful panic sweeping up from his guts. He knew they were going to “use” him.

They re-closed on each side of the wilted, still seated MOS. His brows furrowed questioningly, when Dennis lifted his chin to catch his eyes once more. “Let’s see. For sure.”

Adam cocked his fist back and drove it into the hero’s muscled abdominals—Superman let out a deep, loud groan of discomfort, as Adam then continued to grind his fist into the hero’s cobbled eight-pack, deep as he could… watching the notable distress on the hero’s very handsome face. Could tell he felt the pain.

“At least that part works. This green jazz,” Adam cooed.

Dennis smiled and joined Adam on the leather couch. He opened the medicine bottle and emptied the pair of ecstasy pills into the palm of his hand, and swiped it across the hero’s slack mouth. There was another two blue capsules as well. The pills seemed to be indrawn and dissolved nearly as soon as they passed the hero’s lips. Who swallowed them as if hypnotized and with no refusal, disoriented and gasp-heaving… as much from the nearness of their body-coated greenness, and the need for taking deep respirations due to his assaulted abs, having taken the breath out of him. In minutes more, they then both gaped in amazement as to how soon the hero’s cock grew so long and thick, way beyond its former prison of red trunks, and up under his shirt, as if about to tear the fabric. Already leaking wet, and practically up between his pecs. What a fucking horse!

“Stuff works like magic on him…!” Adam breathed.

“Big boy, indeed. Puts you to shame, Adam,” teased Dennis.

“Now, to get those boots off—” as they both stood, and began to tug at his legs.

“Wha… what are you… doing?” mumbled the hero.

“Making you more comfortable, Super Dick. Need to get you out of those clothes. So you can breathe better.”

“No, no. Please, no…. But so hot, so hot. So hot, yes!

The boots tugged off, they had to stand him up. He was weaving a bit, surely off-balanced. They then worked him towards a blank space against a near wall, so he could be leaned forwards, while they began to unzip the back of his costume.

“No! What are you doing?!” the flustered alien was tremoring, knowing he was being denuded, would become theirs. As they pulled fiercely down the top of his suit, baring his shoulders, his huge arms, the expanse of his back, and jerked it off. He was still making moans of protest. “Please, no! Noooh!”

Then they slowly, with a bit of a struggle, slid down his red tights and lower blues. His small ass was beyond a sculptured work of art, oddly smooth as silk, compared to the hairy rest of him… and all that they could see of him, wondrous beyond belief.

“Still hot?” Adam asked.

“Yes, oh yes, yes… like inside, a steam bath, a sauna—my, my cock. Oh, my cock. So hard, it hurts. Really… hurts.”

“Like it should. But we’ll fix that. Soon enough,” Dennis affirmed.

“Now this other thing.” And Adam slipped his hands under the MOS’s chin, pulled his head back, and began to enclose his thick, sinewy neck in a steel-silvery, heavy linked dog chain.

The MOS was instantly electrified. He stiffened and arched upright, very forcefully. “NO, NO!! NOT A COLLAR, NOT A CHAIN!! PLEASE! NA-NOOOOOO! NO-ooohhhhhhhh! You can’t. I’m-I’m Superman—!!” And was cut-off—as it was jerked swiftly tight around his throat. Grasping him. Knowing it spelled his doom. As a man. As a hero. As their unqualified conquest and slave! The deep distress of it overwhelming even his drugged senses. This could not be, he could not allow this! NEVER, NEVER, NEVER!! He was Superman. He was Superman. He was Superman.

But… no more. The chain fastened into place.

Artwork: David, Man of Steel, deceased. (His head jerked back, huge nipples [not shown] and phallus beyond aroused—the mighty alien stripped, disabled by the green-covered Adam behind him, already drugged with the pink “K” spray—being primed for his soon, never-before plundering—unable to resist or help himself.)

And when Adam reached around forwards, up under his arms, and full-fistedly grabbed over, onto, and firmly milk-pulled down on his overly large nipples… he shuddered. Groaned unearthly. And never wanted him to stop—. Instantly acquiesced. Was udderly his.

 “Turn around, big man. Let’s have a look.” Letting him go then, Adam stepped back. The alien’s face aflush, his entire being half aflame: massive phallic erection jutting high and forwards, thick man-tits erected 2/3 the size of sausages, he pivoted towards them.

“Incredible,” Dennis gaped. “Other worldly, indeed.”

“We never saw all that, did we! Those video/holograms only let him see us. Could only guess a bit at the rest.”

“Wahooo! What a night ahead!”

“And while he’s up and on his feet… let’s see how easy he is, what he can do.”

Adam stepped in close to the heavily breathing MOS, already stunned and warped… the drugs working him, his conquest now eroded sharply into his once impenetrable psyche. And not touching any other part of him, Adam simply reached out and feather-flicked at the glans-rich crowns of the alien’s huge teats with the ends of his thumbs. In slow, easy, very measured one-two-three up and down strokes—pausing for a count of five in-between, repeating the cycle again and again. Continuously over and over. Hearing the great MOS beginning to whimper softly, then more and more aloud. Pausing. Over and over. Saw how the Man of Steel’s eyes were wilding—helpless, mouth ajar—was gasping, arching… his tensing pec muscles even flexing outward to meet him… a desperate expression on his face, while a fine wet spray began to juice from his breast shafts, and his torso started to arc more, moaning intensely, incessantly. “Oh, oh—ah, unhh… oohhhh!!” Finally letting loose with a huge howling groan, his seed erupting spontaneously all across the front of Adam’s torso, drenching him in sudden surprise (though he was truly expecting it, but not so soon). The hero’s teased-laden nipples mutually also spurting forth, climaxing. Pecs quivering. Torso falling back against the wall.

Whoa—what a machine!

Mphillips12000, D.A. (Though, of course, the great MOS, his huge pecs matted with a fine coating of dark manly hair, breathing heavily in the throes of his arousal— giant nipples erect, his milk flow stimulated… causing them to spurt as well as his seed.)

“You damn, queer pervert,” Adam scolded. “Now clean me up, every drop of it!” and jerked the hero’s neck chain, pulled his face and head down forward against his own well-muscled but very green chest, and demanded he lick him clean. “Not that that’s something new, I’m sure. Having taken your own jizz for ages—! A cock like that. Like I do my own. And often. But those tits—too much. We’ll have to fix them!

The MOS half-murmuring in protest, as if drunk, and yet in eager ecstasy to savor his own juices once more, and please-clean his obvious new master. As he knew he must. And oddly wanted to, without question….

 “You do like that, don’t you, Superman?” Adam taunted.

And received only soft “Hhhh-ummn’s” of accepted satisfaction while the owned alien laved over him. Though his mouth and throat, tongue and esophagus burned from the green, like hot chiles. His sweet, thick semen, masking and soothing the taste… his normal addiction, which he loved.

“I’ll be damned,” Dennis noted. “Hot as hell, pliable as jello. Imagine! But we need to get cleaned up.”

“Cool it, pal. Long as he’s this hot, don’t waste a second. I need to take him.”

“But Lex said—”

“Fuck Lex! I need to fuck this one, now. Give me those cuffs.”

“Well, be quick.” And Dennis handed them to him, while Adam turn-wheeled the cowed MOS face into the wall again.

“Hands behind your back, Super Slut. We’re not done.”

To the horror of the dazed, reeling alien, his hands were firmly bound into the Kryptonite cuffs. He knew he had no chance of escape, now. And tremored in true fear. Though he was still hot as hell, and his phallic shaft continued to ache urgently. Worse, his head was pulled up and back once more—a smaller chain was then fastened from his neck chain and firmly affixed into the wrist restraints behind him. It was uncomfortable and demeaning. But what could he do? He strained, but had no strength to break free. His cock ached, his nipples throbbed like gangbusters, still full and yearning to be taken. He hoped it would be soon and quick, the pressures relieved. Vaguely realizing they would not cease; would continue as long as they might have him. Woozily knowing he was all theirs, their toy.

And inexplicably wanting to be “played.”

“Get the padlocks ready, too. While I take him over the rainbow,” Adam growled. “Need to do him on his own cape, too. Just to let him know who owns him!”

“Anything else, boss?” Dennis quipped snidely.

Adam accepting the rebuke, tossed it aside. “Well, hey, you’re in on this, too, bud. Grab some of those cushions. One for his hips; the other under his shoulders and neck—for you.”

Dennis complied smiling, already figuring the plan. He fetched the special accoutrements Adam had planned for his coup, and spread out the silky red hero’s cape across the carpeted floor, the cushions atop it. Adam guided the bound MOS around, and then backwards, pushing on his shoulders, making him drop to his knees… now more than aware of his encroaching fate. He glanced back and to the side with some dismay at his soon known to be deflowering bed.

To be fucked on his own cape, heroically devastating—the part of his brain that was still Superman and functioning, still rational—yet now split into four separate parts. Who he was, and could not be momentarily; a sense of anger and helpless frustration; what he was steeling against, and tried to resist but couldn’t; what he did want, and shouldn’t, and knew would happen…. His head like a cuckoo clock out of whack: the ecstasy, the green Kryptonite, the pink spray, the Viagra!! And no doubt, “hot” as he was, Superman could of the minute not really have cared for anything less than to be fucked in reality. At long last, by another endowed, handsome, well-built male! In full charge. Who owned him…. Taking him down in surrender—both of them!

(A dream he’d hidden deep inside him forever. Hoping it might could have been Batman. Or Thor, or Aquaman. A true, manly man, built as well as he—. The pink K. had done its work. Unhinged any and every reservation or restraint he might once have had, or tried to adhere to. He was more than primed and ready. Probably would have welcomed a much younger high school jock with a modestly big dick, so hungry he was to be taken—to know at last what he had so long craved for. His own cock having turned him on for decades. And having used it on himself, within himself, yes… but another’s would be far different and delicious. The ultimate submission and surrender, to another macho male. Only this time, two of them: inevitably.)

But when he was pushed back there was no way he could resist. Hands behind him, chain jerking on his head and neck, crimping his carotids and breathing… the cushions under his strategic entryways. “No, no, no, no…” he found himself whimpering, his backwards up-slanted look at the ceiling. Eyes growing wider. Dennis already leaning over his head. Adam’s hands at his feet, under his knees, lifting, sliding his green torso in and against his belly.

“Spread those legs. It’s time to lose that cherry, proud dick… which you’ve probably already taken yourself! But not like today—will now know more than you ever dreamed possible!! Unless you’ve been doing the neighborhood, which I doubt. Only today, we edge you crazy. Take you all the way to Krypton. And back—.”

But instead of forcefully entering the arched MOS, who was tensed for something of a truly violent assault, Adam instead got more over him, made him look into his eyes, though it was difficult. And with three fingers and his thumbs, with both hands, began to very slowly and easily caress at the glans tips of Supes’ beyond swollen, engorged nipples. Teasing the ends, soft rubbing… oh, so very slowly and easily: how they felt like silk in his fingers, the turgid shafts near filled to bursting as it were. The skin satiny, yet hard and tight, stretched to an urgent eagerness. And began to edge him like a pro. The ends of them even as much or more sensitive than his long and slick, thick phallic crown, which quivered and jerked spontaneously as well.

Without the drugs, without anything, had this been done to him in real life, Superman would have gone ballistically nuts, almost crazy in mere minutes. The soft-stoked edging of his nipples taking him to the edge of climax and keeping him there, the flow from his teat shafts, instant and viscous as his horse-sized cock, now pressed between the two of their bodies… Adam watching his strained face with great intent, how he writhed, moaned, arched, whimpered, begged.

“Please, please… pull them, twist… suck, bite—chew them!! Oh, please, please!! All yours, yours!!”

 “Tell me, Superman. What do you want?”

“Please, oh, please—bite them! Chew! Fuck me! Oh, God, fuck me—fuck me… fuck me!!” Spreading his legs wider, drawing his knees higher, completely gone, out of his head.

Adam nodded to Dennis. Dennis moved closer. Both of them then leaning in, one on each side of his massive pecs, sucked and chewed at his nipples without restraint. Oh, how his pecs moved, flexed, their mouths on him sending him where he’d never on earth been before. Two built handsome men nursing from him at the same time! Taking him to an outrageous heaven beyond his dreams. His milks and cock juices overflowing in streams. Sending him to the stars. In only minutes.

Superman shot his semen like a geyser! Once, twice. Convulsed, shook, quivered and moaned, and said, “Again, again, again. More, again, again!!”

Only this time, Adam looked into Dennis’s eyes, nodded and grinned. And while the great alien was in throes he hadn’t heretofore experienced with any earthling… Dennis cut off his moans thrusting his cock into his throat, while Adam cored him from between his legs. The MOS more than shuddered, taking them both at once… and with no resistance, and with such a willing eagerness they were astonished. Especially Dennis, when Superman not only swallowed his whole nine inches, but his balls too, and savored them unlike anything he knew could be possible, being worked on by the incredible muscles deep in their famed captive’s throat. While Adam very cleverly, and cockily, soft-stroked the mighty alien right into and on his prostate, over and over and over, with his fine rod… edging him to near insanity, while he came twice more between them, before seeming to tire. Or at least gasp-groaned for  a brief pause and respite.

(And yet some dreaded response kept surging up within him: a piece of his brain still aware, not totally overcome: their cocks and bodies covered in Kryptonite—and that Kryptonite now being forcefully imbedded into him!! Superman could feel the burning, the aching, the lethality of it… would it pass, or would it destroy him? He had no way of knowing. And even so, didn’t wish to be without what they were doing—had done. Had really, really done. So wonderful!! Oh, the feelings he was feeling! Never so fine and wonderous, wonderful, wonderful! Wrecking him, a loaded freight going off-track… down a mountainside. And he didn’t really care.)

Although Adam didn’t come and slipped out, again nodding to Dennis, who had erupted crazily into Superman’s esophagus, when Superman came again. Then, they reached for the tools they had prepared. And while the MOS was still heaving, his big arched chest rising and falling, gasps of pure exhilaration and hardly any exhaustion at all coming from him, in stunned wonder, completely enthralled… they leaned over. Each taking one of his huge nippled shafts in their hands, as if to play and milk him again—and their unnoticed, which he couldn’t see, already heated, very large-gauged electric needles in their others. Then swiftly in tandem, they pulled on his fleshly thick protrusions hard and firm, out and down, and plunged the lethally sharp instruments deep into and through each one of them, right behind the bulb-ridged ends of his tits—both at the same time!


Artwork: phonometrie, Deviant Art. (Startled out of his mind, in searing shock, Superman felt his huge nipples being pierced—both hands bound helplessly behind him... his thick hairy chest arcing high, near to bursting loose in the throes of his pain.)

A scream beyond screams, Superman shrieked—arch-bucked and stiffened instantaneously! His huge muscled torso and body jerked violently. Mortally wounded. A bolt of lightning could not have been more effective. He gave out another intense, shudder-convulsed wail, trying to rip loose his cuffs from behind him, eyes stark wide with true terror, then failed. Was instantly out—dead cold. Even his erection collapsed. His pectorals and nipples quavering involuntarily, the big short needles still wobbling in them, larger than knitters’ spikes.

The incredible mass of him lay still and quiet. There were a few expected involuntary quivers. His handsome head slack lying, turned aside, mouth gaping open, a-drool. Milk and semen depleted; no less in shock, inner resources well-sapped.

At first, very afraid, they checked his pulse… he was still alive. Sighed in great relief. Then withdrew the piercing spikes, and inserted the 3/8 inch thick steel shanks of the balled padlocks into each of his impossible male udders, and with a couple of quick clicks secured them.

 It was done. While in place, he would be Luthor’s forever.

And theirs.

To be continued…

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