Last update
2023-04-16 02:38:00

    Excerpt from SUPERMAN VS THE VICE LORD, EXTENDED EDITION, Chapter 7: ‘Punishments and Betrayals’

    ‘Come, come, Clark – this topic is proving fascinating, don’t you think? Tell me about the time Superman encountered Ross Webster, the corrupt billionaire tycoon.’

    ‘What? Oh… oh no,’ said Clark aloud, before he could stop himself. Zeal was not going to let him off the hook. This man was so powerful. So strong-willed. It was dazzling.

    ‘Something the matter?’

    ‘No… no, sir.’

    Damn it - it’s best to just give him what he wants, he thought. Get this over and done with as soon as possible – then finally, perhaps he’ll let me stop talking about this and I can try and get my erection to subside.

    ‘Well,’ he began, resignedly, ‘Webster had the help of a man named Gus – just a downtown normal guy, but boy, was he a genius. He invented a form of Kryptonite that made Superman lose control and act like… like a moron. All Superman cared about suddenly was alcohol, sex, and behaving like a total idiot. Mm. He… he got drunk in a bar and behaved like a total jackass. Hnngh.’

    Zeal said nothing, but smiled, revelling in the way Clark had now given in and was discussing the Man of Steel’s embarrassing failings unprompted, with no attempt to pretend or hide from them.

    ‘Once the effects of that Kryptonite wore off, Superman had to fight an intelligent supercomputer, also created by Gus. He won in the end, but it was a close run thing, during which the computer bound Superman with cables, rendering him almost unconscious and drew him inside itself. Yes… cables…’

    Uh oh - trouble: he realised he had begun to enjoy this too much to stop himself revealing things he shouldn’t. And here was a very dangerous memory which he had buried so deep that even the System hadn’t found it. Like his arousal in Luthor’s pool, it was one of a tiny handful of memories he only occasionally allowed himself to recall, in his most private moments… He should bury it now… and yet the prospect, the terrible, unthinkable prospect of uttering it aloud to another being, not just that, but to Zeal - a man who might use it against him…

    Can’t… can’t stop - not just yet. Feels so liberating to say it out loud to someone at last. I could actually do it… I could tell Zeal what happened… I want to… I… I…’

    ‘I remember that I… uh… I mean, that is, I remember Superman telling me… how… how…’


    ‘Oh. I shouldn’t say… shouldn’t tell you…’

    Clark was struggling desperately with his psyche. Part of him ached to say this, longed to reveal this secret… but he knew he shouldn’t.

    ‘Go on, Clark – say it. I can see you want to. What did Superman tell you about this?’

    ‘He… he… oh God - Superman told me how… unexpectedly, he found it felt quite… quite nice to give in. As the computer sucked him in, a shaft appeared. It took hold of his cape and ripped it off him; Superman watched it disappear down the shaft, taken from him. His boots were then pulled off - removed by the same method, even as he protested.’

    Clark looked fearfully at Zeal, but the man just stared at him, waiting. He continued, each word making him tingle as he spoke.

    ‘Then, clad… just in his tights and briefs… oh… sorry, sir, I mean in just his tights and… panties… Superman could feel the cables binding him and I… I mean he… he said he… that is he uh told me… in… in secret… a v-very, very… deep secret… that he, uh… he…um... he liked it. Superman… liked it.’

    ‘He did?’ asked Zeal quietly.

    ‘Oh. Y-yes. Being trussed up like that. Superman liked it very much. It felt wonderful. There were some cables around my thighs… I mean his thighs… some around his arms, some more being pulled over his face and gagging him… and… and… uh… hmm… I…’

    Zeal’s brow furrowed: this sounded good.

    ‘What is it, Clark? What are you not telling me?’

    Oh God, thought Clark. Where’s my self-control – I can’t tell him this! But then… he already knows so much. Too much. When I defeat him I’ll just have to mindwipe him somehow. I’ll kiss him! Ooh! Yes, I’ll kiss Zeal. Feels too nice to stop now. My erection feels so good. Never told anyone this stuff before. Why shouldn’t I feel like this? Why shouldn’t I enjoy feeling nice? The lives I save, the good I’ve done. I want to tell him. I want to tell Zeal; it’ll feel… nice. Never even really admitted it to myself. I can’t stop now. I can’t! I’m going to tell him! I will!

    Suddenly he blurted out: ‘There was another cable!’

    Looking up, his eyes met Zeal’s; it made what he was saying even more thrilling, to look his enemy in the eyes as he gave up this secret. A hint of a smile played at his lips as he willingly betrayed himself to the Vice Lord.

    ‘Ooh. There was another cable, Mr Zeal, sir. And you were right, sir: something happened to Superman then that he… that I’ve… I mean he’s never told anyone. Not until now, Mr Zeal.’

    He felt a wave of pleasure like nothing he had felt before.

    ‘Go on,’ said Zeal, ‘you look very excited to share this with me, Clark. Tell me about this other cable.’

    Clark wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Still looking Zeal in the eye, gazing at the other man’s stern, dominant expression, he continued, his voice lower and more breathless.

    ‘As Superman fell backwards, the computer produced a smooth tendril made of some sort of malleable, pulsing metal. To my – I mean to his amazement, he watched this thing emerge, shiny, and… throbbing. As Superman was trussed up helplessly and sucked into the heart of machine, he felt this tendril pushing its way up around his legs, past his thighs… and in to his clothes, down past his belt and into the waistband of his briefs.’

    ‘You mean his panties,’ said Zeal.

    Clark swallowed. ‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I mean the tendril pushed its way into the waistband of Superman’s… panties. Right down inside my panties. Ooh. Uh… I mean inside his panties.’

    His mouth was so dry. Damn it. Why does this feel so good?

    ‘I gasped – oh! I mean, Superman… Superman gasped and squirmed as he realised what was happening. He felt more and more of the tendril squeezing its way inside his briefs – sorry! Sorry, Mr Zeal, I mean his panties. It was as if the machine was touching him, playing with him.

    ‘There was a feeling of warmth as the tendril made a hole in his tights, then it began to produce an equally warm liquid, coating and lubricating itself… Superman felt the sticky substance filling and coating his buttocks, wetting them… and… and then this thing slid up, and it was inserted into his… into Superman’s… uh… Super-anus.’

    ‘Incredible,’ said Zeal. ‘And how did the Man of Steel feel about receiving this anal probe? Did he dislike it? Did he muster the Super-strength to pluck it out of his Super-rosebud?’

    ‘No,’ said Clark, breathing rapidly, ‘No, he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try… because I loved it… I mean he… uh… he… he… Superman loved it! It f-felt wonderful, like nothing he’d ever known – being taken like that, humiliated sexually – him, the strongest man in the whole world, being helplessly penetrated! By a machine! Superman squirmed in ecstasy as the computer’s tendril penetrated him and his Super-penis became erect in his tights and briefs! Oh! I’m s-sorry, sir, - I m-mean his tights and panties!’

    His notepad dropped to the ground and he did not go to pick it up.

    Somewhere inside he knew he was losing this battle. His mind went back to that moment, being trussed and penetrated inside that insidious machine. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to think about this.

    ‘Go on, Clark. I can see you want to tell me about this. I can see you’re enjoying it. Tell me everything. Every last detail.’

    ‘Oh… okay. Okay then, Mr Zeal.’

    And he was enjoying it. The recall of this moment of sexual subjugation was making his body thrill with pleasure. In his mind’s eye he saw himself there once again, trussed up and being penetrated.

    ‘Superman was tightly bound, legs splayed and being penetrated by a… a throbbing phallus, and it… it f-felt wonderful. He’d never felt pleasure like it. He didn’t care about anything else but that warmth, probing him, arousing him, taking control away from him. Superman was tied up, utterly helpless and his tights and panties were being invaded… and it made him feel so free, for the first time in his life.

    ‘Other tendrils began to tug at his briefs, pulling them down and unfastening his belt, and the feelings were so intoxicating that Superman actually began to buck his body back and forth with each thrust of the probe. That machine, that supercomputer had deduced how best to deal with him: not with violence, or trying to kill him or turn him into a robot. It had worked out a far more efficient way to solve this problem. It was penetrating Superman in his tights; he felt his briefs pulled down, taut and tight as they clung to his outstretched legs, until they bunched around his ankles. It… the supercomputer… it had pulled Superman’s panties down. The Man of Steel was groaning in ecstasy, his briefs around his ankles like a cheap whore, and the elation he felt was incredible. Any moment now he would explode and splurge, fill his tights with hot, creamy, Kryptonian semen.

    ‘But then just as Superman was on the verge of cumming, the acid he had brought began to destroy the computer. He tried to kick the canister away, to foil his own plan; he wanted this so badly, more than anything. But it was too late! The metal probe was withdrawn from his tights before anything more could happen. Superman moaned in unfulfilled arousal as that strange phallus was withdrawn from his… from his ass.

    ‘Superman went from ecstasy, being tied up and penetrated, to being left unsatisfied, a hero in his tights once more. He’d saved the world but it cost him his pleasure. For a split second he considered masturbating, cumming in his briefs.

    ‘But then a voice called out his name: Gus Gorman had found him. His erection subsided and he had to be Superman once more, and put aside his own pleasure. He had to quickly locate and put on his cape, pull up his briefs and dry them with his Super-breath… and go and be a hero. Unfulfilled… w-with only the stains on his briefs to prove that it had ever happened at all. He told Gus it was acid.’

    Giddy with sensation, he realised he had reverted to saying briefs, but Zeal hadn’t corrected him. What would have been the point? He’d already proved Zeal had broken him with regard to this.

    ‘Poor Superman,’ cooed Zeal, ‘just when he was about to have some excitement. There he was being fucked by a machine and then it was over and he had to play the big hero once more. It must be very frustrating being the Man of Steel, don’t you think, Clark?’

    ‘Yes,’ said Clark, with feeling, ‘it… it sure must be.’

    For a split second he wondered whether he could turn the conversation to some of the Man of Steel’s victories. But he knew he was not going to.

    Enjoy, fiends!


    Really great piece