Date: Mon, 9 Dec 2013 22:22:01 +1100
From: Henry Dee <hennnery53@hotmail.com>
Subject: THE SEVEN BDSM NIGHTS OF SUPERMAN Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Superman or related characters and am not making a
profit from this story. The characters are owned by DC Comics.

CHAPTER 3: The Third Night

Clark Kent left work early that day, citing stomach cramps, and within
minutes a red-cloaked figure sat pensively upon a rock ledge high above the
deep chasm of an abandoned galena mine. And indeed, there were strange
stirrings in the abdomen of the confused Kryptonian. At first contemptuous
of the lewd activities his contract with Luthor had imposed on him, he
found himself disconcertingly aroused by the memories and wondering with
heightened pulse about the night to come. His hand wandered unconsciously
to the growing bulge between his legs and he gave a sharp gasp as he
realised he had begun to masturbate as he thought about the
possibilities. What was happening to him? Why had he arrived at Luthor's
lair a full two hours before the appointed time? Why was the humiliation of
becoming a compliant sex-toy so unexpectedly arousing?

He silently berated himself for his lapse in self-discipline and was about
to soar away into the clouds when the whirr of helicopter rotors caught his
attention. Heading directly towards where he sat was a sleek black chopper
emblazoned in gold with infamous double L logo of Lex Luthor. Superman
stood as the elegant craft drew alongside and hovered a few bare metres
away. A puzzled Luthor sat in the passenger seat staring quizzically at his
super foe.

"It's not regarded as good manners to arrive two hours early for a date
babe; you're not pulling out of our contract I hope?"

"I..  ah.. no." Stammered the embarrassed Man of Steel. "I just.. I was in
the vicinity.."

Luthor gave a knowing grin.

"At the speed you travel, everywhere is in the vicinity. No. Something made
you want to be early. Hey! You don't have to lie to me, Honey, I know how
this stuff can get you in, hehe." The criminal mastermind's snickering and
the knowledge that he had been caught out brought the blood to Superman's
cheeks but there was nothing he could do to deny it. In a bewildering and
unexpected way the experiences of the previous nights had had a seductive
effect and caused him to betray the idealised concept he had of himself as
a champion of good and the moral order. Damn it! He would not let it happen
again.

"You can believe what you like, Luthor. I'm here early to keep my side of
the bargain but I expect to finish early too! You have five more nights to
play your sick games and then I get my side of the deal."

"Sorry to disappoint you, bitch, but our arrangement says a 7 o'clock start
and we have some preparations to do before we can begin tonight's little
session, You're gonna have to cool your heels here for awhile I'm
afraid. Hey, maybe you'd like a little light reading while you wait?" And
with that he tossed a couple of thick glossy magazines at Superman. The
helicopter dropped the short distance down to the balcony entrance to
Luthor's hidden fortress and Luthor walked imperiously across a gangway and
into the hall beyond. Superman dropped his eyes and began to look through
the "reading material" Luthor had thrown to him.

The cover of the first magazine bore an explicit picture of a muscular male
ass spread wide and pointing its rosebud at the camera. The model was clad
in the costume of a French maid and, indeed, the title in lurid pink read
"THE NAUGHTY MAID". He stared in horror at page after page of himself from
two nights before primping and posing pants-less in the little black skirt,
allowing and even seeming to welcome the ogling eyes and grasping hands of
a room full of gangster overlords. Cock, balls and ass were on display from
every angle. He was seen sitting on men's laps while they fondled his
genitals and bending over while they stroked his firm cheeks. Every moment
had been captured by the camera and printed in high definition.

Horrified he turned to the other magazine, knowing already what he would
find. The title was simply "POOCH" and the cover showed a naked Superman
sitting up in begging position with dog collar and lead while a leather
clad bearded man stood behind him holding him by the hair. Again it seemed
that every moment of the indignity of the previous night had been captured
by the hidden cameras. He saw himself crawling, chasing, sitting and
rolling over in the role of an obedient and compliant dog. He saw his body
being handled in the most intimate of manners by the roomful of
leather-men, and most mortifying of all, he saw close-up after close-up of
his erect cock dripping with pre-cum at his obvious excitement and his
ball-sack tight with undoubted arousal.

Furious, he flew down and into the hall and bellowed "Luthor!!!"

Luthor appeared nonchalantly at the far end door.

"You seem a little upset. Didn't you like the snaps? I thought they were a
most comprehensive record of events."

"You lieing, cheating scum, Luthor. Our contract never said anything about
photos!"

"LISTEN SUPERFAG! Our contract said you were to submit to my desires and if
my desires include taking photos, then I take photos, got it?! Or do you
want out of the contract? You know the consequences if you do!"

And indeed he did; the death of thousands and wholesale destruction. He
glared with hatred at his nemesis and ground his teeth but there was
nothing he could do.

"Well now, if you're finished your little tantrum you can wait on the
balcony. I'll call you when we're ready."

For the best part of the next two hours Superman leaned on the balcony
rail, looking down into the chasm below. His mind turned again and again to
the images he had seen, and after awhile the initial shock faded and was
replaced by something different. He began to feel a strange sense of
liberation at being exposed in so explicit and undignified a manner. He
began to know in a small way the ecstasy of the exhibitionist and, while he
could not yet quite admit it, it was both alluring and seductive. His was
indeed a beautiful body; why shouldn't it be shared?

"Play time!" came the voice of Luthor from behind and he turned to see that
the hall had been transformed into what resembled a nursery. There was an
oversized baby's play gym, changing table, cot and various other
accoutrements. Standing around the perimeter were about a dozen young men
and women dressed in stylish casual daywear and all leering directly at
him. A tall blonde college type took a few steps towards the Man of Steel,
crouched and spoke:

"Hey baby! Crawl to Daddy! Daddy wants to play with you."

"And Mommy too!" The words came from a stunning brunette whose deep dark
eyes focussed intently on their subject. Superman's eyes narrowed as their
power revealed what would be hidden to all but the most discerning of human
eyes, the subtle growth of follicles on the beard-line, and slight
variation of skeletal frame, that revealed this "Mommy" to be the most
desirable of transvestites. He understood immediately what was expected of
him, and sank to the floor. Just as he had the previous night he began to
make his way across the floor on all fours.

"Ah, there's Daddy's little man!" The young man took the Kryptonian chin in
his hands and patted a cheek.

"Bath time!" said "Mommy" and the two of them began to undress their
invulnerable "baby". He lay back compliantly and allowed their hands to
remove every item of clothing until he was lying there naked, exposed to
every eye in the room, and undoubtedly to many concealed lenses. Already
his impressive organ had started to respond to the handing and the
suggestion of the game to come and had become semi-erect.

"Ooh, Mommy's little man is growing into a big boy!" Giggles tittered
around the room. With unexpected strength the "parents" lifted their naked
baby towards a large plastic bathtub and lowered their charge into warm
soapy water.

"Let's get this boy nice and clean!"

"Don't miss anything!" Luthor's voice was unmistakeable.

"Don't worry, we won't," smirked the transvestite as her soapy hands
slipped over the shoulders, chest and stomach, and slid down between the
legs. While she carefully massaged the hardening cock and loose warm
ball-sack her "husband" was busy at the other end, shampooing the famous
black locks, and massaging the scalp. Superman lay back and gave himself
over to the sensual overload. His hips moved slowly in time with the
red-nailed hand moving over his genitals, between his legs, exploring the
gap between his butt-cheeks and toying with the little pink eye which was
the doorway to his inner world.  He exhaled long and softly as he felt his
arousal grow and grow.  As "Daddy" continued to massage the scalp he moved
his face closer to the "baby's".

"Whose Daddy's good little boy?" he asked and rubbed his nose against
Superman's cheek. His tongue slowly made its way across the celebrated
face; over the eyes, the cheeks, the chin and jaw, up to the ear and into
the opening. His teeth began to nibble lightly on the lobe and Superman
felt his dick harden further and the first subtle urge of an impending
orgasm. He could feel the warmth of the young man's breath on his face and
intuitively moved his face towards the tongue, opening his mouth as he did
so. Faces met and his mouth was soon filled with the deep, firm wetness of
the handsome college boy's probing tongue. By now his hips were slowly
thrusting up and down in time with the long strokes and the firm grip upon
his fully engorged cock.

Just as he felt himself moving inexorably towards cumming, without comment
"Mommy" and "Daddy" disengaged from their "baby" and moved away grinning to
the perimeter of the hall. At the same time a similar couple moved towards
the bath. Delicately, gingerly they took over the bathing, with sparing,
light touches that put eased back on the level of arousal and stemmed the
tide of the gathering orgasm.

This time it was "Daddy" who took over bathing the groaning superhero's
nether regions. One strong hand gripped the magnificent cock while the
other toyed with the bulging red glans and fingered the wide lips of the
slit, now dripping free-flowing pre-cum. His "female" partner held the
handsome head in a tight embrace and kissed the gaping mouth deep and slow.

The hands on his cock now moved to the large firm balls, massaging them
until the scrotum tightened and drew their large round orbs close to the
base of the engorged organ. The massage continued as one hand now moved
deep between the buttocks and a large finger slid easily into the waiting
hole. Superman drew a deep breath as the finger went deep into his body and
the tip began to stroke the fluid filled prostate.

But again the sensual massage abruptly ended just short of the impending
release, and another couple took over the expert edging. And so it
continued until every one of the ten couples in the room had played at
length with their helpless super baby. and all the while a smiling Luthor
looked on triumphantly.

When the final couple had ceased their play, they lifted Superman out of
the bath, lay him on a large bath towel and dried him roughly.  He was then
lifted again onto a nearby changing table, where he was smeared with baby
oil, patted and powdered with talc. All twenty then gathered around and
lifted their "baby" into a baby chair, patting and stroking him all
over. With forty hands seeking pints of contact his whole body was totally
alive with sensation. His pulse quickened, his breath grew rapid, and his
balls and cock strained for release.

"Must be nearly time to feed our baby," Luthor hissed, and one of the
transvestites picked up a bowl and spoon from close by.  "She" began now to
rigorously milk the massive cock, while other hands rapidly fingered the
asshole and prostate, and rigorously rubbed the balls. Fingers tweaked his
nipples and tongues invaded his ears and mouth.

With a cry of exultation mixed with desperation Superman released his
cum. The orgasm lasted a full minute with spurt after spurt of hot sticky
fluid shooting into the waiting bowl.

"Milk him completely! Leave nothing inside," came the order from Luthor,
and the greedy hands continued their tugging, stroking and rubbing until
every last drop of Kryptonian cum had shot or dripped into the
bowl. Superman's cries turned to groans and whimpers, then faded to sighs
as the milking finally ceased.

"Dinner time, baby," smiled the "Mommy" holding the bowl. "Open up baby,
here comes the aeroplane!"

Reluctantly, almost fearfully the naked superhero opened his mouth,
compelled by the contract he had entered into. He had never tasted cum,
never even thought to, now his mouth was filled with spoonful after
spoonful of the hot sticky mucous.

"Swallow for Daddy. There's a good boy." And he gulped down his body's own
secretions as commanded, until the whole bowl was empty, at which point the
laughing feeder wiped the cummy spoon across his face and placed filthy
bowl on his head like a hat.

"Nighty night baby."

Then each of the twenty in turn kissed him on the lips and silently exited
the hall. Last to leave was Luthor himself, grinning widely.

"Sleep well bubs. Catch you tomorrow!"

Superman sat quietly in the baby chair for a long time before
moving. Slowly, despondently he dressed in the world-renowned blue, yellow
and red costume and headed towards the balcony and the beckoning night sky.

A silent figure, lost deep in thought, floated high above the planet until
early morning, then quietly flew into his Metropolis apartment. He stripped
and lay sleepless in his bed. As much as he wanted to forget the events of
the evening past, he could not. He had been touched and violated in ways he
had never imagined. But worse than this was one unassailable truth: he had
never cum like that before in his life, never experienced an orgasm even
remotely as powerful.

And he wanted more.