Superman, The Downward Spiral
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 8: Locked and Loaded.
They brought him around with a several sharp slaps, and a few cold wet washcloths. Still bound, he looked around in fear, his eyes desperate, trying to assess his situation—suddenly as if sober, and very much in his right mind. The penetrating shock to his system had done that. He must get help. And now! Or sensed he was irrevocably doomed. Must be free of the Kryptonite, the drugs, his captors, what they had done to him! But how?! The searing burn in his breasts was horrific. Of course, his body would heal and recover, knowing it would rather quickly. But still—. His brain yet also clouded with the nearness of their presence, his pain and urgency, he tried to form a plan. Must think, must think! They were young, and hungry criminals. Perhaps he could make them an offer they couldn’t refuse?
“So, the high and mighty, fantastic Superman—not so ‘high and mighty’ anymore. Hey, big tits? Locked and loaded, and all ours!”
While Adam thought Superman was probably among the most fantastic cock-fucks imaginable, he also relished his complete control and astute domination of him. Even sensed the mighty alien was in ways also seeming to like his mastery… surprised at his being at last controlled by another set of very well-muscled males. Who would probably be susceptible to a variety of explorations, if played right—no cuffs or much of anything extra needed. Not realizing how truthful his assumption was. Yet to be revealed.
He had to be careful, though. Get to them. As they had already gotten into him, oddly enough. Something he was concernedly trying to deal with….
“Please,” he began. “Help me. As only you can. Have mercy. I’m in your power. Only you can save me.”
“Oh, my God,” Dennis breathed aloud. “The great Superman… begging us for help?! I can’t believe my ears.”
“Sounds weird to me,” Adam chuckled. “Come on, mighty cunt, tell us how can we save you?”
Superman stuttered, throwing himself at their feet, literally. “The, the Kryptonite, the powder on you… has disabled me. The only thing on earth that can take me down. Robs me of my abilities. Can even kill me. Luthor set you up to destroy me. Using you as his weapons. Please…”
“That’s what this stuff is—what it does? Damn, that old fox!” Dennis gaped. “No idea.”
“If you free me, I can get you anything you want. More than Luthor ever could, what he’s paying you.”
“Why? Why should we do that? You’d just send us off to jail, for assault or what-have-you? We’re not stupid, Blue Boy,” Adam added. “Besides, not one of our favorites; always fucking with those of us who want to get ahead.”
“I promise. On my honor. I, I won’t do that, or allow it to happen.”
“What else? Listen to him, Adam. He might be talking sense.” Dennis, ever the most rational of the two, suddenly was considering untold new possibilities. Although his skin was itching and starting to burn a bit, wanted to get this green goop off of him.
“I-uh, I’m Superman. The world’s most formidable champion and true hero. Can do almost anything—”
“Yeah, and look at you now, bag-shit!!”
“Because you have an unexpected advantage, something otherworldly used against me. Which can be stopped. Removed.”
“Why should we? Luthor’s paying us big bucks to play you down, keep you leashed. Cool idea, come to think of it. The planet’s greatest hero, now a Big Blue Fairy, just like that—no balls, really. Grip them tight enough. Wails like a woman. No power at all.”
“But, but I am Superman! What I can do. Have done. Help people world-wide, rescue them from disasters, aid the planet, governments, institutions, righteous citizens who want to live peaceably.”
“And fuck over those like us, not as lucky as the rest!” snorted Adam.
“No, I can’t accept evil—or abet it, support it. Nor do anything illegal, illegitimate, or intrinsically wrong. Something that would hurt others.”
“What’s the deal then? I didn’t hear anything. Except a big, begging, deflowered muscle cunt… we’re still going to fuck all night long. Who can’t do a thing about it! And I suspect… enjoyed every damn second of it, too!”
“Please, we—we don’t have to do that. Not anymore.”
“But we did. Have. And will.”
The Man of Steel swallowed, and looked askance. First at Dennis, then back to Adam. The memory of their physicalities and bodies ravishing him, their nearness; well, it had excited him crazily, stirred his libido without question. Was stiffening him again—. He was trapped. His sparked sexuality astir once more, yet his desperate rationality striving to break through into an urgent reality.
“I, I can get you a sack full of gold nuggets; a pouch full of uncut, raw diamonds. More than what Luthor is paying you—enough to last you a lifetime. Let me go. Get rid of that powder on your bodies. Uncuff me. No more drugs….”
“I can’t cut them, but can get them taken to those who do. The gold is simple enough, at the right exchange. Nothing stolen. Something I can get easy enough in their right, natural environments. But you must promise never to have any Kryptonite in yours or my presence: an even exchange. If you accept my offer, I promise to also keep you free of Luthor’s clutches, safe and out of harm. He won’t be able to retaliate.”
“But what if he gets more Kryptonite to use against you—has some made?”
“Then, that’s my problem. But I intend to arrange to have his facilities destroyed. He was very clever to hide that. But no more.”
“I thought you couldn’t do anything illegal or wrong?”
“Self-defense is not illegal; merely wise.”
“Sounds like a deal to me,” Dennis quipped. “I’m in. Free of Luthor, and free of being a crook!”
Adam pondered a minute. Smiling. “Then, one other thing. I insist.”
“As I insist, you must first release me from these padlocks. They severely negate my strength, my ability to be who I am. Blocking the major source of my strength, my own breast milk. For you to have done that was the same as giving me a death sentence. I must be set free. Completely! Or no deal can be made. I will have no power at all.”
“Imagine that! Fuck the alien, lock his tits, a little green Kryptonite, and he’s as good as dead!”
Superman took a deep breath. They could still destroy him, now that they knew the secret of his vulnerabilities. Would they help him, or kill him?
“What… is that last ‘one thing?’” he asked hesitantly. “To seal the deal?”
“The contract will be made,” Adam grinned. “We agree. On the final condition: that once weekly for the next full year… since you do not lie, and your word is your honor… that unless detained elsewhere on an important mission, you will come to us—and we will enjoy a free, open three-some, no-holds-barred sexual congress, as long as we’re here. Satisfying each other as much as possible. No restraints, no questions. And, of course, “secretly,” among only ourselves. No others.”
Superman gulped, was more than taken aback. His magnificent body was now become in a sense their “hostage.” Once a week! For whole year?!
“I-I’m married. I—”
“Then your tits will remain locked, and your life is Luthor’s. As he wills. And ours. No more Superman—no strength, no power…. Gone!”
He bowed his head.
“Then, please… uncuff, unlock me. I concede.”
He knew he had no chance of life, otherwise.
“Deal. But for the moment, those freak udders need to stay locked. I’ll undo your cuffs, but you still have to wear them. And later some ankle restraints, too. We plan to keep you all night, then let you go. — Dennis, go get cleaned up while I still have him depowered. Then, it’s my turn, and yours to do as you wish. Right now, I have something I want to try while you’re showering.”
“I’ll try to be quick. This green is kind of making me sick.”
“Me, too,” Adam agreed. “Get with it, and hurry back.”
With a fading trepidation, the hero watched Dennis leave the room, but noticed his nod towards where the previous implements had been placed on a nearby stand. He felt his freedom was within grasp, believed he could endure whatever sexual antics they might yet have pre-planned… which had not been the least unpleasant, except for the piercing of his male teats. And at last began to feel safe. Once away from their Kryptonite coated bodies, he felt sure he would feel a surge of renewal. And prayed Adam would hasten to remove the padlocks from his male udders, and tomorrow completely uncuff him (securing the shackles in their previous leaden container). Then he could truly breathe. Would honor his contract.
No doubt he had been lured here to be bound and humiliated, set up for a more permanent delivery and conquest to Luthor—no pics or disc in their possession for him to retrieve. Lex probably still had several copies in his other offices or headquarters. Somehow he’d have to figure a way to locate and destroy them. A daunting task, but he must.
Luthor still had him half-whipped, and over a barrel. But these two he could deal with….
Still not aware all their activities were yet being faithfully recorded and videotaped—Adam already planning to keep and use them for his own needs (if the great Man of Steel ever later became belligerent or “demanding”). Supes now having already been utterly duped in more than several ways. Would never exactly be free. No matter what he did. But he didn’t know that.
Thus, with Dennis gone, he had the hero to himself, and Adam planned a little more one-on-one with his massive chunk of subdued “world famous muscle,” before getting cleaned up. Naturally, allowing his hands loose, though still cuffed, with the greater amount of Kryptonite to constrain him.
“Thank you for undoing my hands. Makes things more reasonable,” the still defeated alien said gratefully.
“Want a drink?” Adam offered. Then took one of the liter wine bottles, stuck it between his thighs, sitting down on the couch now to relax. “Come on. Come and get it, big boy. Both of them–.” His eager erection nearly as long as the bottle, but certainly not as thick.
Superman looked at him, and on his knees, made the move… still slow, yet partially drugged, crawling wobbly on them across the room to get to him.
“You know what I want,” Adam said. His fingers lightly, teasing in slow strokes along the sides of the bottle. Their eyes riveted into each other.
“I-I, yes. Yes, I do….”
“And? —Do you?” Pausing for a tell-tale moment. “After all, we are to be friends, now. And—in the future.”
Without hesitation, the MOS said, “Yes. Yes, I do. Want to….”
“Though I haven’t wiped myself off, yet. From being in you. Not that it matters. Have no doubt tasted yourself, before.”
Superman swallowed, actually turning a little red, right there at his knees now, looking up, as if for guidance or okay or whatever. Though his head was feeling a bit worse than woozy, and his stomach was cramping in unusual waves and patterns within him, tangling his focus.
“But to make it easy, try some of this.”
And with no warning, Adam slyly grasped up the can by the couch, and resprayed the startled hero full in the face with another blast of startling pink.
“Uggh, ahh-gghhh!” The swiftness of it caught Superman off-guard, no way to turn aside, and the chemical went directly into him with a hammer jolt, into his lungs as he gasped… he staggered, closed his eyes, coughed, shook his head… and of a sudden ached to suck Adam’s cock completely off his body, and deep down into him of an instant.
Oh, my God, that so beautiful, bigly wonderful cock, on such a handsome, built desirable man, inches from my lips. Nearly out of my mind to have him. To drain the bounty of his sweet thick seed, his juices, his jizz, his maleness—his young, vibrant richness into me—oh, oh, oh, oh!!!! Please, MUST, please!!
Only Adam stopped him, caught his chin as he lunged forwards. “Stop, my hungry, sweet boy. First, you have to lick me clean. Before you can have it. From my feet to my crotch, nice and slow, and sure and easy….” Even though he was feeling faint, strange constrictions within and under his shapely pecs. And his fine, acorned nipples… wanted to be super-sucked crazy.
This Superman guy turned him on beyond being turned on. Truly! And having fucked him once, knew he must again. And again. And again. While he would also be sucking on his much bigger dick, at the same time. Providing he could soon manage to get his mouth over and onto that flowing monster. Next time, he would. For sure. For sure.
His head getting tangled and odd-swirly, too. What the heck?!
While the MOS’s head was beyond thinking, as well. And laved at the green poison he was ingesting, so simply… without question or qualm. His tongue over every one of Adam’s fine toes, the crevices in between, his ankles, up across his calves, over his smooth, so beautifully muscled knees and thighs, up, up, up, over and up, closer to his desperate prize… oh, those glorious male bulging testicles, tight in his thick-wrinkled pouch, must be overly full of his manly sperm, ready to be unloaded, taken, savored… through and from the wonder of his man-rod’s uncut, thick, kingly-inched shaft, hard as an oak, just wavering, rivering, waiting.
Adam stood up, so the MOS on his knees could do more of him better. Oh, the joy, the huge muscled alien’s mouth taking not only his whole cock, but his balls, too, his strong muscled free arms, wrists still cuffed, around his hips, his ass, as if trying to ingest the whole of his younger, near Olympian body down into his star-blessed, powerful, vacuuming throat. All the while, moaning like a pair of generators on near about to fail overloads, high pitched, deep rumbling—both of them—crying, moaning, wailing, whimpering, sighing, half screaming… with their ohhhs, and ahhhs, yesses, and oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fucks, and ayyahyah-yahhs, eee-oww-ooohhhs!!
Peaking into the rafters as they both shot and exploded at the same time. With two separate and distinct, equally manly screams—simultaneously harshly shrill, and gurgle-choked off, almost in mutual tandem.
Yes, Dennis toweling off could not help but hear them. And the towering crash of glass, and thunder heavy thuds that followed. In haste, he rushed to see what the commotion was about. Good Lord, Superman couldn’t have escaped! Their asses would be fried!
Instead, mouth agape—finding their nude and heavily muscled bodies amidst the ruins of a once fine coffee table now shattered, where they’d fallen onto it… both titans sprawled inert and lifeless, dead on the living room floor.
And the aftermath? Lex Luthor was volcanically distressed—to put it mildy. Interrupted in the middle of a business meeting, terminated in a flash—he exploded like Krakatoa when Dennis, still in shock, stammeringly reached him on his cellphone. All of his plans and schemes regarding that dim-fucked alien were now no less than ruined!
But, at least, the sonofabitch was dead.
Immediately Luthor sent out a sharply detailed, clean-up squad to erase any traces of whatever could be traced back to him. Of course, necessary as breathing—poor Dennis was summarily, in the process, covertly led back into, showing them how he had sought to clean himself off, forced to kneel, and executed naked in the bathroom with a cool .45 to the back of his head—which he never expected… and left insitu like the others.
Lois was inconsolable, had to take a leave of absence. The Daily Planet carried the story, being duly informed along with four other major papers and networks… but for the sake of all concerned, cloaked the details, only saying that the great Superman from another world had suffered a devastating stroke in the midst of a rescue operation—and had been forever silenced. His rescue had failed, the hostage and criminal both had been extinguished. But the actual truth never surfaced. Only the coroner, the police commissioner and cohorts, Luthor, Lois and Cat Grant knew the gritty truth. Lois, nearly hysterical, to know her famed husband had been found naked in the arms of another muscular man, his semen in his throat, and poisoned apparently with synthetic green Kryptonite. Absolutely sure, had he truly resisted, her husband would NEVER have been so compromised… but knowing his narcissistic tendencies, wondered exactly how often and how many other men he might have sucked off, or been fucked by? The evidence at the scene was irrefutable. Nothing she wished to admit to or explore. Accepting still, he had been the most wondrous fuck of her life, and her true love…
Cat Grant could have cared less, even if her “revenge” had been thwarted from that as desired. Assignment over, she figured she might as well pack up and head for Gotham. Bruce Wayne, that handsome devil, was known to still be a bachelor. Quite manly built, rich as Croesus, and from all reports, very sizeably hung, as well… if not as great as—but, she never could take all of him, anyway. (What’s two or so inches less of such a horse to be of much concern?)
So what really had she lost? What use of a well-hung man without any money, after all? Clark Kent had had a huge cock, overly big muscles, and enormous tits; but he’d actually been a real penny pincher. And dull as a post. Who needs a man with pint loads of sperm, or able to just give milk? (And kept it from her, at that!) Not to forget, hadn’t the great “invulnerable” Superman/Clark been found muscle-naked and still amazingly erect hours later, his jizz shot all over the place, in the arms of another man? “Super Fairy” was more like it (although she’d never thought three-somes were that distasteful). And now surmised, since it had been unquestionably revealed… this must have been Kent’s true craving all along—why she couldn’t have scored, no matter what. Only way he must or could have settled for Lois is she probably never suspected such, and thought he was as dull and strait-laced as she was. Who would have thought? Getting his on missions, and on the sly.
And now ironically, among the biggest-cocked cocksuckers of the planet, he’d met his match—terminated while swallowing and sucking on another’s fruitfully big cock… this time, not his own. Served him right. And the world, too! Good riddance. Huge-titted alien—queer from another star!