Thanks to all those who expressed an interest in more of the Extended Superman vs the Vice Lord. Here is part 3. If you like it, then please consider hitting Like and leaving a comment. I do this for fun, but we've all got an ego, and some encouragement goes a long way...!😈 Hope you like it - disclaimers as previously, no copyright infringement intended. This is an Adult, NSFW story. It's written solely for entertainment and enjoyment, and so... I hope you enjoy it.
Superman vs the Vice Lord - EXTENDED EDITION
Chapter 3: Spunk and Spandex
“Hey, Starkey – whaddya keep staring at that clock for? Who you got waitin’ for you at home?”
Officer James Starkey looked over at Sergeant Buchowski, who sat laughing at him. It was true: every few seconds his eyes strayed to the large digital clock on the wall, checking the time.
“Ha… yeah. Just got… some stuff I’m anxious to get back to.”
Buchowski sniffed. “Well chill out. You still got two hours until the end of shift.”
“Yeah,” said Starkey, as his phone vibrated, alerting him to a new message. “Sure thing, Chief.”
He snatched up the device. It was a video message. From Zeal. This had to be it. This was what he’d been waiting for.
“Uh, Chief – I gotta use the bathroom. I’m not feeling so great. Might be a while, that okay?”
Buchowski rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Starkey’s hands were shaking as he dashed to the washroom. He quickly checked the stalls – all empty. Great. Already he could feel his cock, semi-stiff and wet, bulging in his underwear. Picking the cubicle furthest from the door he locked himself in. And then, trembling with excitement, he pressed play.
“Oh God. Oh fucking yes, yes, yes!” he cried as the screen of his phone filled with a clear, hi-def image that exceeded all his expectations.
It was Superman alright… but what a change from the confident, powerful hero Starkey had shaken hands with barely two hours previously. The Man of Steel had been stripped of his cape and boots, and as the video commenced, Starkey watched open-mouthed as Vincent Zeal pulled the hero’s red briefs down over his head and fastened them in place with his yellow belt.
He heard Superman cry out feebly, but the voice seemed robbed of its usual power and masculinity. Now he sounded shaky, whining; he was almost whimpering as the briefs were pulled over his face. And was that spunk? Holy shit, the famous red briefs were dripping with semen!
As the video continued, Starkey fumbled with his belt and the clasp of his uniform trousers, clumsily yanking them to his knees. He’d intended to wait until he got off shift and could head straight over to the Vice Palace, but this was too much; he was rock hard and straining already. A few large drops of precum flew from the tip of his juddering cock as he freed it from his underwear. Some landed on the cheap faded laminate of the toilet door, the rest into his boxer briefs as he tugged them roughly down..
“Come on,” he grunted, but then fell silent in shock.
“I’m Superchump!” came the muffled yet excited tones of the Man of Steel, loud and clear from the speaker of Starkey’s phone.
“I’m Superchump! I’m Superchump the Man of Jello! You’ve made me into a Superchump and I can’t stop you!”
“Oh man,” gasped Starkey, seizing his dripping cock, “listen to him! Listen to him! And he means it! Superman really means it!”
It was hard to dispute this. The Man of Steel’s eyes were just visible through the leg holes of the soiled briefs that covered much of his head and face. They shone with a desperate, ecstatic excitement as he continue to babble away.
“I’m… I’m the Metropolis Moron! I’m a Supershithead! I’m a Supershithead with a puny intellect! The Vice Lord has shown me what I truly am: a Superwimp, a Superclown, a Superchump, wearing my p-p-panties on my head! Ooh! Hnnngh!”
The noise of the crowd rising, Starkey watched, pumping his penis eagerly, as Vince Zeal leaned in and roughly kissed Superman, the camera going tighter in as he forced his tongue through the red fabric that now covered the hero’s mouth.
“Fuck! Fuck! Impossible!” panted Starkey. “This is way beyond what we hoped for! Fuck! He wouldn’t! Superman’s never gonna let you-”
But he broke off in astonishment as it became clear Zeal’s kiss was being enthusiastically reciprocated, the hero’s features outlined against the wet red spandex that covered his head. And Superman did not shy away, quite the reverse: his body bucked and writhed as he enthusiastically returned the forceful kiss of the Vice Lord.
“Fucking hell… he’s kissing him. Zeal’s dominating Superman, and all he’s doing in return… is kissing him back! Like he wants it… and boy, he really does want it. Look at him!”
The camera moved down, to where Superman’s hand gripped his cock, as the Man of Steel masturbated frantically, still clad in his tights.
“Shit,” thought Starkey, “look how wet he is – did Zeal and the others spunk all over him? Or did Superman cum in his tights already? Surely he couldn’t have produced that much jizz? It’s all down his legs as well; he looks just like he’s pissed himself!”
On-screen, the Man of Steel moaned and grunted louder and louder, jerking himself off while Zeal kept him in a tight grip. Watching this debauched scene, in turn Starkey yanked at his own penis, lost in frenzied desire at seeing the most powerful man on the planet debase himself.
At last, Superman’s cries reached fever pitch. Starkey watched, panting, as Zeal detached himself and shoved the hero backwards. The Man of Steel fell to the floor, and the blue spandex of his uniform was replaced by oozing shades of white, as he began to produce a vast amount of semen which his already-sodden clothes could not possibly contain. It bubbled right through the fabric and over the top of his tights, white, thick and spurting like an erupting geyser, or a broken washing machine churning out soap suds.
“Aaah! You did it to me again!” shouted hero as he let go his cock.
“Look at me! You made me cum again! I’m cumming! Look at me – I’m filling my tighhhhhhhhtsssss!Oh! I’m a Moron! I’m S-superman… the M-Metropolis… Moronnnnnn… ooh! Oh! Oh!”
A fresh wave of Super-semen burst from the waistband of the hero’s tights, and in blind passion, Superman received it excitedly, smearing it across his chest, over the red and yellow S-shield, his hands lingering and playing with his nipples.
“Oh boy… oh man… Ah! Fuck! Fuck! We did it! We brought down Supermaaaaaaaaan!”
There was no way Starkey could hold back, and his own cock gushed, filling his boxer briefs with semen. It was a vast load and it sprayed everywhere, inside his pants and all around him; the black polyester now slick with hot white spunk.
“Goddammit… came in my pants!” he gasped as he filled his uniform. “Gonna fuck you, Superman! I’m gonna make you cum for me, you… you Superchump! Gonna make you beg to eat my spunk, you so-called fucking hero! I’ll make you eat this from my boxers! Uhhh! Uh! Hnngh.”
On the screen a circle of masturbating men now surrounded the Man of Steel, their own loads of semen streaming down upon him while they shouted and screamed in triumph. As Starkey’s orgasm subsided, the smiling face of Vincent Zeal filled the screen. He had taken the phone from whoever had been filming. Laughing, he now ran one hand through his thick dark locks.
“I hope you enjoyed that, Starkey. Be sure to get here as soon as you can – now is where the fun really begins. Now I’m going to try and really break Superman. I’ve taken his dignity, his willpower and his clothes… oh, not forgetting relieving him of two formidable loads of his Super-spunk! And look at this… check it out: the Man of Jello’s still cumming!”
Zeal pushed the camera back to where Superman lay. Even through the men who surrounded him, Starkey could see the hero’s body was still bucking and heaving in the throes of orgasm; he now looked as though someone had poured a vast amount of white glue over him from head to foot.
“Mmmf! Hnngh! Mmm!” gasped the ejaculating Man of Steel.
“Oh God… I’m cumming! I’m cumming all over myself, Mr Zeal!”
“Mr Zeal?” echoed Starkey incredulously.
“See, Starkey? Superman produces a Super-load of Super-cum! Awesome. Didn’t anticipate that,” said Zeal as he turned the phone’s camera on himself once more.
“But there’s still more to do. Now it’s time to continue Superman’s humiliation. And for my next trick, I’m going to take his secrets – all of them! Just as soon as you bring me my special delivery.”
He laughed heartily at this, as behind him the climaxing hero continued to shriek incoherently.
“What do you think, Starkey? Will you make it here in time to join the fun? Will you get here before I’ve taken everything from Superman and left him just a slave to his own erections?”
“You fucking bet I will,” muttered Starkey.
Zeal raised an eyebrow and the video ended.
Starkey’s cheeks were hot; his hands were still shaking as he carefully saved the vid-message and stowed his phone in his pocket. His boxer briefs were now lined with cooling semen, but that was of little matter to him. He pulled them up, sprooshing their contents all over his crotch, and re-fastened his trousers.
“Never came in my pants before,” he muttered to himself. “Still – I bet that fucking Superchump never did, either!”
He paused and laughed at this, and shook his head incredulously.
“Can’t believe I’ve just watched Superman cum in his tights. With his briefs on his head! Have to see it in person.”
As he exited the stall, fastening his belt, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and realised he found this mildly erotic: beneath his policeman’s uniform he was wearing underwear full of wet spunk, but no-one would know. He ran one hand over his crotch and grinned, enjoying the sensation of that warm sticky mess, moving around inside the layers of his clothes. His penis began to twitch once more.
“Fuck this,” he said. “There ain’t no way I’m gonna make it to the end of my shift.”
Over at the Vice Palace, Superman’s relentless ejaculation was finally beginning to slow once again. He moved his hands up and down his body, smooshing pools of hot semen all over himself, enjoying the feeling of wiping his gooey seed across his smooth spandex. And yet for all the pleasant sensations, with each second the fervour that had gripped him diminished, leaving him with a clearer head and full realisation of where he was.
What have I done? Great Rao, what have I done? What am I doing still? They’ve made me ejaculate again, all over myself, filling my tights! So… much… semen… so… much… spunk!
His mind was divided like never before. On one level he was conscious of what he was doing, fully aware of the depravity and of how much he was completely and utterly degrading himself. He was making himself vulnerable, letting these men see him do this, letting them treat him in this appalling manner. Participating actively in his own downfall, eagerly embracing the humiliation. It was beyond inconceivable that he, Superman should let this occur… wasn’t it?
Yet it was that very same vulnerability and just how unthinkable it was that was turning him on so powerfully… and the sheer erotic draw of this thrill made Superman suddenly push that conscious part of his mind aside, divorcing himself from all rational behaviour, revelling in how it made him feel: the pleasure was like nothing he had ever experienced.
I’ll find a way to fix this. In fact I… I have an idea. Yes… that would work… But please just… not yet… feels too good… lying here letting them deface me, cover me in semen… oh!
He felt for the top of his tunic and pulled it open, then began to force pools of semen inside, pushing it down over his bare nipples.
Yes… I can feel it. I’m spreading it into my chest hair! Wet, slimy, creamy… warm – my own semen… my own… cum. Mmm…
The word did not come naturally to him but he enjoyed thinking it; it was yet one more tiny defeat, for him, the oh-so-noble Superman, to use a slang, dirty word like cum.
Yes… my cum! Yes, damn it - my own Super-cum – my Superchump semen… my… my… my spunk! That’s it – cover my chest hair with spunk; let me be further embarrassed and disgraced. Cover me in cum! Cover me, the Man of Steel, in hot cum!
As this new idea thrilled him, it was as though some of the men who even now stood wanking and letting their own spunk rain down on the Man of Steel had heard his thoughts. Two of them took hold of him, pulled his torso upright and joined him, grabbing the blue spandex top of his uniform and shooting their own loads down between his chest and the clingy blue fabric.
“Ooh! Ooh!” said the hero aloud as still more hot slippery cum slid down his body.
The red briefs still sat atop his head, but he activated his x-ray vision, that he might see the men who now filled his clothes with their ejaculate. They both had handsome faces and looked as if they were in their early twenties – younger than Superman.
“Yeah, that’s right, Superdick,” laughed one, seeing the Man of Steel gazing in his direction.
“You like my spunk in your spandex? Huh? Yeah, he sure does! Oh man…seeing what Zeal’s done to you… turned you into… it’s… so… hot…! Hah!” His conscious reporter’s mind found itself for a second wondering how two such young guys were rich enough to be members of the Vice Palace. Millionaire’s boys, perhaps.
“Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!” he said again as they spurted their seed down him. It sounded, he thought, as if he was just an animal – a monkey, making such foolish noises.
“Oooh! You’re ejaculating… cumming inside my uniform!” he breathed aloud.
“That’s right, Super-prick,” sneered the other guy as his cock shot his last down the front of Superman’s chest.
“We’re cumming right inside your pathetic Super-costume and more importantly, so are you, Superman, you dick! How’s it feel, dummy?”
“I… I…” panted Superman. His penis had subsided minutes ago, but this ongoing humiliation could not help but make his insides burn with arousal still.
“I can feel it all over me… spreading through my chest hair.”
He reached a hand inside his tunic as the second man finished cumming, and began to rub the spunk in further; a mass of matted spunk and body hair.
“You… oooh! You’re covering me in semen! You’re covering Superman in sem-…in cum… in spunk! You’re covering me in spunk! You’re covering Superman in spunk! And I’m letting you; Superman is letting you cover him in spunk! Ooh! Oh!”
He knew as he said it that this admission, saying these words aloud was prolonging his arousal; the more he talked about degrading himself the more excited he seemed to become.
The younger men howled with laughter and the first put his hand behind Superman’s head and carefully wiped his dick over the hero’s briefs-clad face. As it reached the hero’s mouth, with a smirk, he let it linger there.
“Ooh!” whimpered Superman as the wet head brushed his nose and lips. “Mmm…”
“Oh boy,” shouted the guy, “look at him! Look at this!”
His penis! He’s resting his penis right against my mouth! Should I…. Does he want me to… no, I couldn’t! Could I…? He felt the man’s cock, warm and pressing firmly against the soaking red spandex, and instinctively, almost before he knew what he was doing, Superman found himself opening his mouth.
“Uh! Mmm… Ooh!”
The tip of this man’s cock slipped between Superman’s lips, eliciting gasps from the rest of the men. The red fabric of his briefs did not keep it out, but covered it, as it nuzzled its way in.
Great Rao… Gosh… am I actually going to do this? Allow his penis into my mouth?
I… no… yes… yes! Why not? I’m… I’m going to let him put his dick in me… He’s doing it! Oh! He’s doing it! He’s putting his dick in my mouth!
“No!”
Zeal’s voice cut through the laughter and cries of lust. He strode forward and placed his foot firmly on Superman’s chest, forcing the hero to lie back down on the floor. Dimly, he realised he was disappointed to have had this new experience – a cock in his mouth – taken away from him.
“You referred to yourself by the wrong name. You called yourself ‘Superman’. That’s not who you are now. Is it?”
He moved his foot to the Man of Steel’s face.
“Who are you, you super-powered piece of shit? Answer me!”
“Ooh!” said the hero. “I’m… I’m…”
Superman considered for a second – a tiny fragment of doubt.
I don’t have to do this. Could stand up to him. I’ve had release now, twice already this evening. I don’t have to say what he wants me to. I could resist… couldn’t I?
But just as before, the thought of saying the words Zeal wanted to hear entered his mind. And that thought, the knowledge of how demeaning it would be excited him irresistibly.
But if I say it.. say those awful words… it’ll turn me on more… and I want to do it… go on…
He swallowed.
“Um… I… I… I’m… Superchump, Mr Zeal. Superchump the Man of Jello. I’m Superchump. I’m Superchump and I’m covered in semen… in cum… in filthy spunk!”
“That’s right,” said Zeal. “And don’t forget it. Now, stand up, Man of Jello.”
Surely… isn’t it time I defied him now? And yet… he’s giving me an order. And the thought of obeying… it feels good. Come on… there’s still time… do as he says…
“Yes, sir, Mr Zeal, sir.”
Superman obeyed, clambering to his feet.
Zeal walked slowly around him, taking in the sight. The still-trembling hero was utterly plastered in cum. He looked for all the world as though someone had dipped him into a vat of wallpaper paste.
Zeal shook his head.
“Just look at you, Superchump. You truly are quite something.”
“I… I am?” asked Superman, uncertain what to do or say.
“Of course you are! No hero – possibly no single man has ever been disgraced in the way that I’ve done to you… and I’ve lead you to it naturally. Well, almost. I’ve changed you from the most powerful man in the world, to a semen-coated moron, trembling in your tights and panties… all in less than an hour. Haven’t I? What are you?”
“Uh… I’m…” Superman tried to keep calm, yet everything Zeal said seemed to make his head spin.
“Well? We’re waiting.”
“I’m… I’m a s-s-semen coated m-m-moron. T-trembling… in my t-t-tights and… my p-panties! Ooh! Oh! Hnngh!”
Making this admission was like fire to the Man of Steel, even as he basked int he afterglow of his recent orgasm.
The Vice Lord gave a short bark of laughter.
“This is better than I ever could have hoped for. Here-”
Zeal reached down and dipped a finger in a glass of Jack Daniels and ice. He then plunged that same finger into some Superman’s congealing spunk, coating it.
“A treat for you, Superman – or rather Superchump. You can lick it. Go on. Do it. Spunk on the rocks… just for you.”
Zeal pulled up the red briefs a little so freeing the hero’s mouth.
“Oh.” Superman gulped. “Um… th-thank you… Mr Zeal, sir. Thank you.”
Obediently, he opened his mouth and admitted Zeal’s finger.
The Vice Lord smiled as he inserted into the mouth of the Man of Steel, gently moving it around, even as Superman lapped gently at it with his tongue.
“That’s good, Superman. Lick away… lick all your spunk from my finger. And you can pretend it’s my cock while you’re doing it. Yes… you like that, don’t you, you Superchump? I saw how eager you were to take Theo’s dick into your mouth just now. You wanted it, didn't you? You were curious to see what that would be like – the Man of Steel, on his knees with a dick in his mouth.”
Superman gave a low moan, which seemed to signal that Zeal was correct.
Looking down at Superman’s crotch, the Vice Lord noted that the hero’s penis, although no longer at full mast, was not entirely flaccid. He slowly withdrew his finger, wiping it on a handkerchief.
“How does this all make you feel, Superchump?” asked Zeal.
The Man of Steel hesitated, before answering:
“I… I like it. I wish I could lie, but I c-can’t. All these things you’re doing to me… it… it’s still turning me on… even though I’ve already ejaculated twice. In fact… you just you asking me this question… p-putting your finger in my mouth… making me say all these humiliating things… mmm… making me t-tell you that I’m a s-semen-coated moron… oh! I like it! It’s… you… you’re… beginning to make my penis tingle again. Making me… aah…” he moaned slightly. “Making me hard! Oh no…”
“Oh, yes, Superman,” said Zeal, eyes blazing. “Yes!”
“And it’s t-true…” the hero’s gaze slid to the young man whose penis he had nearly taken in between his lips.
“I did w-want to s-see what it would be like… to… to have his dick – Theo? – to have Theo’s penis… ooh… I mean his dick… in my mouth. It’s true. You saw it… you seem to catch me out every time!”
Theo laughed, waving his now deflating cock invitingly at Superman.
“Of course I do,” said Zeal, “it’s as I keep telling you, Superchump… I understand you better than you understand yourself. I could see the hunger in your eyes. I know what you need…”
Superman groaned. “Yes… Yes you do… and you’re using it against me. You’re using it… m-making me into a Superchump! Ooh! Turned me… into a Superchump! Oh! Hnngh.”
“Of course I am,” laughed Zeal. “Not that it’s very hard, is it? I mean you really are an idiot, aren’t you, Superchump?”
The hero said nothing in response to this.
“Hmm,” said Zeal. “No answer, eh? Interesting. Time to continue your education, I think. Down on all fours, Superchump.”
“Wh-what?!” replied Superman.
“You heard me. I said, I want you to get down on all fours like a dog. I take it you don’t have a problem with that? Do you?”
I can’t do this! I can’t! I mustn’t!
“Is that a problem, Superman? Do you want to disobey me?”
“Um. N-no,” swallowed Superman. “No, sir, I d-don’t. No problem at all, Mr Zeal, sir.”
Zeal noticed the hero’s penis swell slightly in his cum-drenched tights as he spoke.
“Well, then, Superchump, off you go: get down on your hands and knees.”
Superman felt his cock stirring once more and part of him registered this with despair; his mind was in turmoil.
I don’t have to do this… I can’t let him keep doing it to me. What if he makes me cum again – will I get weaker still – lose more of my strength? Have to stop this.
Yet he did nothing, and as Zeal said sternly, in tones of warning, “Superchump…” the hero once more gave in.
“Yes sir,” he said simply, “sorry sir.”
And then he got down on his hands and knees before the Vice Lord.
“Hnngh. Yes. Oh. Oh! Down on all fours… just like you told me to… Mr Zeal, sir. Ooh.”
“That’s much better, my little Man of Jello,” said Zeal. Gently he patted Superman’s buttocks.
“Now, let me put this dog’s leash on you.”
“Oh no!” said Superman.
I can’t let him do this. This is too far – putting me on a leash like I’m… just an animal?
But his body had other ideas, and his eager cock stiffened fully inside his tights.
“Oh! Yes… uh… yes, sir.”
He shuffled forward a little and raised his head. He looked up just to see Zeal grinning as he reached for him
“See? You’re already becoming more obedient.”
He felt his neck, already bound by his spunk-slick briefs and belt, now slowly encircled by a strap of leather.
“Ooh,” he said. “I’m ooh… you’re… you’re putting a collar on me… oh! Oh! What am I doing? What’s happening to me… what am I letting you… oh… ooh! Ooh!”
Zeal chose to ignore this, his fingers moving deftly. With one foot he forced Superman’s back down, making him assume an even more ridiculous and submissive stance. Once more, the hero found he was enjoying all of that was being done to him, his cock tingling excitedly inside his sopping wet tights.
“There!” said Zeal, as he finished fastening the collar around Superman’s neck. As an afterthought, he pulled the hero’s red briefs back down over his mouth once more.
Having snapped a chain leash into place, Zeal reached down, slipped his hand between Superman’s legs and took him by surprise, deftly groping the hero’s dripping bulge.
“Aaah! Hnngh! Oh! Oh!”
Zeal laughed as his suspicions were confirmed, and Superman moaned helplessly at his touch.
“Just as I thought! Your pathetic little cock is throbbing once more at what I’m doing to you, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Well? Say it, Superman.”
His breathing fast and shallow, the hero replied:
“Y-yes sir. My p-penis-”
“No! Your ‘pathetic little cock’, got that?”
“Uh! Yes sir. My… my… my p-pathetic little c-cock is throbbing! Oh!”
“That’s better.” Zeal narrowed his eyes. “It’s hard because you’re excited to be collared like this, isn’t it? Superman loves becoming a submissive dog, don’t you?”
He squeezed the Man of Steel’s hardening shaft once more, making him cry out.
“Well? Do you like this, Superman? Tell us, we’re all waiting to hear. I’ve just made you get on all fours and collared you like a dog. Do you hate it? Do you wish I hadn’t?”
Zeal slowly stroked Superman’s rapidly stiffening erection, relishing the feel of it through the smooth wet spandex of his blue tights.
“Or do you like it? Come on, Superman… we’re all Super-interested to hear.”
His fingers moved slowly and delicately around the last penis of Krypton.
“Uhhhh. Oh. Oh… M-mr Zeal… sir…”
I can’t do this… I can’t do as he asks. Not this.
“P-p-please, sir… not that… don’t make me… don’t make me s-s-say it. Please!”
He groaned, and the Vice Lord squeezed his cock viciously.
“Don’t keep me waiting, Superman. Answer the question, Metropolis Moron. Do you like it?”
I can’t… not this… I have to defy him. Lie to him…
“I said… answer me… NOW!”
“Aah!”
Superman shuddered in alarm as Zeal shouted at him, tugging on his leash, and his will crumbled.
“Oh! Oh! I’m sorry sir. Yes! Yes, yes, yes… I do… I d-d-do like it, Mr Z-zeal. You’ve muh-made me get on all fours… made me get down on all fours in my uniform… in my t-t-t-tights. You’ve collared me like a d-d-d-dog. You’ve put a collar on me… on Superman! And I… oh no… I like it. It’s true. I d-d-d-didn’t want to tell you, but I like it. You made me tell you! Oh Zeal… Muh-Mr Zeal… you’ve made me hard again! It’s t-true… I like it! I like what you’ve done to me! Oh! Oh n-n-no!”
His cheeks, had they been visible beneath the spunk and spandex, were as red as his briefs right now.
“Of course you do, my kinky little Kryptonian,” laughed Zeal. “Of course you enjoy being my dog. How good I am to you, Superchump! Aren’t I, you kinky little wimp? Aren’t I?”
He yanked on the chain and Superman whimpered as his desire took hold even further.
“Yes,” he panted. “Y-yes, sir, Mr Zeal sir. You’re v-very g-g-good to me, sir. Th-thank you. Thank you for making m-me g-get on all fours and p-putting a leash and c-collar on me, sir. Th-thank you!”
On a whim, hoping to please the Vice Lord, Superman slowly raised his hands and dropped his wrists, assuming the position of a begging dog. The feelings from his cock as he did so made him let out another low moan of arousal.
Zeal laughed heartily at this, and reaching down to pat Superman’s head, he said:
“You’re most welcome, my pathetic Superwimp. You look much better like this. It suits you, you know. Now… Phone cameras at the ready, all of you: I’m going to take our excited little Superchump for a walk, on to the next stage of his education. Do you understand, Superman?”
“Oh! I…” Superman’s entire body seemed to pulse with desire as he gasped: “Yes, sir, Mr Zeal… you… you and your men… you’re g-going to take me to the next stage of my… Hnngh… aaah… the next stage of my education! Ooh!”
“Excellent,” smiled Zeal, “you see, gentlemen? Progress! Superman is learning to be a good, obedient Superwimp, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” gasped the horny, helpless Man of Steel. “Yes, sir! I’m learning to be… a good, obedient… Superwimp! Aaah!”
There was more laughter at this, and one of the men who’d been slowly jerking away sprayed a jet of semen over Superman’s back, eliciting a cheer.
Then Zeal gave his leash a short tug, and they set off, the Man of Steel crawling behind him on all fours, and making the occasional inadvertent noise of pleasure at how thoroughly Zeal was debasing him and destroying him. Yet still, his mind churned, and a part of him struggled to think of a way out of his shocking predicament.
As the leashed hero followed the Vice Lord on his hands and knees, there was no hiding the fact that his cock was now at full mast once more. Stiff and excited, it swung from side as he crawled along, swishing around in the wet confines of his bedraggled tights. The blue material was now so sodden that it had become baggy and slack, the weight of so much semen pulling it out of shape, and as Superman crawled along on all fours he left a thick trail of cum along the floor in his wake, like a human slug.
Vincent Zeal took his grovelling captive into the next room, which was a little smaller than the hall they had formerly been in. The crowd of men followed them, all hooting and jeering at the Man of Steel, but remaining respectful of Zeal’s status as the Lord of these proceedings.
Superman felt Zeal yank his chain – his face was still bound by his briefs and he was not using his x-ray vision, but he supposed this meant they had come to a halt. A kick confirmed this.
“Ouch,” said Zeal ruefully, and rubbed his foot. “Looks like your invulnerability hasn’t been affected by your ejaculations, Superchump. How stupid of me not to realise.”
A thought occurred to him, and slyly, he took off both his shoes. He was wearing plain, smooth black socks which had been new on that morning; just like the billionaire Ross Webster he never wore the same pair twice.
“Tell you what, my semen-covered little Superslave – why don’t you worship my feet for me, to make up for the pain you just caused me when I kicked you. Go on, Superprick - do it!”
Superman looked up at the Vice Lord in confusion.
“I don’t understand. What… what do you want me to do?”
“You really are a fucking moron, Superman,” sneered Zeal. “Think! I’ve told you to worship my feet so worship them! Kiss them! Lick them! Show obedience! Show these men what a submissive little cunt you are!”
The Man of Steel hesitated, but did nothing. Then Zeal bellowed:
“Do it, Superman, you pathetic Super-prick! Obey me now you worthless so-called hero, or I promise you’ll regret it.”
Despite the fact that he knew he still had a degree of power and strength left to him, Superman did not doubt Zeal’s threat.
“Y-yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir. Ooh.”
Activating his x-ray vision once more, he bent his head towards the man’s feet and began to nuzzle and kiss them through the red spandex that bound his lips.
“I… I worship you, M-mr Zeal. Uh. Uh. Hah! Mm. I worship you with my mouth, sir. I’m sorry my body hurt your foot, sir. Let me show you how sorry I am, sir. Mm. Thank you for… mmm… letting me show you this… mmmm….”
Superman found himself growing more and more turned on with everything he said, and this in turn enhanced his enjoyment as he kissed those feet, slobbering over them.
Every lick, every kiss left semen trails on Zeal’s black socks, but the Vice Lord didn’t care, in fact he liked it: this was just one more step in the long process of abject humiliation he had planned for the world’s greatest hero.
“Excellent. Because here’s the thing, Superman,” breathed Zeal, as he watched the Man of Steel debase himself at this feet.
“You might get all these powers from our yellow sun: you can fly, you’re Super-strong, you can shoot fire from your eyes. But the sun can’t make you Super-smart, can it? That’s the one area where a normal man like me can triumph over you. That’s why you’re on your knees licking and kissing my feet right now, Man of Jello. And that’s why the only thing that’s Steel about you now is your stiff, stiff cock. Because what you really are is a chump. A strong chump, a chump with special powers, but just a chump nevertheless: a Superchump. Isn’t that right, Superchump? I said, isn’t it?”
Superchump stopped slobbering over his feet and stared up at the Vice Lord.
“I… I guess so.”
“I know so! You insolent little shit. And don’t forget to call me ‘sir’, Superdickhead,” hissed Zeal.
“Go on – tell me what a fucking idiot you are – now! And kneel and beg while you do it.”
And at last, out of nowhere, that was it.
Something clicked. Superman then surprised them all.
“No,” he said simply.
“What?!” said Zeal.
Superman shook his head.
“No,” he said, a little more loudly.
“You’ve made me do things I never thought myself capable of. You’ve made me give in to urges that I never even knew I had. You’ve shredded my masculinity with your… your cunning. But any man is subject to desires and you’ve just played on mine. I am not an idiot, Zeal. It might arouse me to let you subjugate me like this, it might get me hot to… to call myself uh… yes, a Super… a Superchump… aaah! But I am not an idiot – and no amount of humiliation or making me… making me cum will change that. Because when I’m spent here today – and I will be spent soon – I will remain Superman, not Superchump. And then we’ll see who the idiots are.”
There was silence. Zeal’s face was expressionless.
“Well. That’s… quite a speech, Superman. I confess, hadn’t realised how much control, how much fight there was still left in you.”
He yanked on the leash again. “Why don’t you stand up, back on two feet again then? Please, go on – someone who’s not an idiot shouldn’t be down on the floor like this, grovelling like a dog. Up, Superman, up! It’s all right - I permit you.”
Uncertain, the hero clambered to his feet. Yet was he still obeying orders by doing this?
His mind was a mass of contradictions; his penis was still rock hard, but part of him wanted to prove to Zeal he was not beaten, even though his body continued to experience waves of elation at what had been done to him.
Superman nervously looked about him, unsure of himself. He wanted to speak, but what could he say?
He felt Zeal walk behind him. He felt the man’s hands – that touch! So warm, still – but why? He felt the yellow belt around his neck being unfastened, and he moaned as those same fingers brushed his face.
“Oh. Aah. Uh. I… Aaah… oh. Th-hank you,” he gasped.
The belt undone, Zeal put his hands through the legs of the red briefs atop the hero’s head and grasped his ears, eliciting another groan of desire from the confused Man of Steel.
Then, very slowly, Superman felt his briefs being pulled upwards; the red spandex prison that encased his face began to lift. He closed his eyes: long rivulets of cum dribbled down into them as those soiled briefs were plucked from his head once more.
There was a small sound - the sound of a zipper being lowered?
Suddenly – the heat! That weird heat that came with Zeal’s every touch was increased tenfold as Zeal pulled Superman backwards into him, pressing the hero firmly against his own body! He kept his eyes tight shut, but he could feel what he realised in panic was the other man’s cock, stiff and folded against his butt cheeks! Zeal had unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock, and now it was pressing against Superman’s spandex-clad buttocks!
And it feels… no, can’t think it! Don’t… don’t!
Yet that wriggling little thought fought its way free.
Yes… it does… it feels good. The Vice Lord’s stiff cock is warm on my buttocks… Vincent Zeal, the man I came here to shut down… and he’s the one shutting me down! His penis throbbing against my buttocks… just like Theo’s penis was pressed against my lips… oh… and it’s like it’s drawing me in… feels… so… good…
Zeal’s left arm moved around Superman’s chest, encircling him, squelching its way through the layers of spunk that coated his body and coming to rest, holding him tight and squeezing one of his nipples.
“Aaah!” cried Superman. “Oh!”
He hadn’t expected this. He’d thought Zeal would find some new way to debase or humiliate him, but not this terrible, irresistible heat again; how could he fight this?
“Oh… oh, Zeal…”
He felt Zeal’s right arm now snaking round, pulling closer still, and then: “oomf!” Something wet and soggy was being forced into his mouth – why, Zeal was shoving his briefs inside like a gag!
“Hush. You don’t seem to have anything useful to say, Superman,” said the Vice Lord, “so let’s shut you up. A mouth full of your panties should do the trick.”
“Oomph!” Superman mumbled again, pathetically, as he tasted semen once more.
Yet he did nothing to resist this or to fight back. He stood there meekly and allowed Vincent Zeal to stuff his spunk-sodden red briefs into his mouth, silencing him.
Held tight within the Vice Lord’s arms, eyes still closed and his mouth now full, his other nipple was taken and tweaked, while behind him Superman’s body exploded with the sensation of another man’s body pressing against him, holding him so tightly, and worst of all… that penis! Oh! It felt so warm, so hard, now sliding between his buttocks, pushing its way up, aided by his slick and soggy spandex.
Then came the coup de grace: he felt his knees buckle as Zeal began to lick and bite his ear.
“Mmmmmmmmmmf!” the hero moaned ecstatically.
Zeal paused only to say:
“Open your eyes, Superman. Open your eyes and take a look at yourself.”
Without thinking, the Man of Steel obeyed.
Directly in front of him was a mirror. Zeal’s men must have placed it there. The hero’s mind exploded in suffering at what he saw. For looking back was not Superman, the Man of Steel, the invincible Last Son of Krypton, champion of the USA and the peoples of the earth. The eyes that met his from his reflection were that of a semen-drenched man in spandex who stood writhing and moaning idiotically, ecstatically, as Vincent Zeal held him tight and played with his body, literally dominating him with his cock.
“Ooh,” he said, his words muffled by the briefs in his mouth.
“Mmf. Ooh. Look at me. Oh God. Look at me!”
He could see little of his blue uniform, so much of the surface now glistened with white cum, and as for his face! He may as well have had his head shoved in a bucket of slop! Spunk cascaded down his cheekbones and down to the neck of his tunic, where a few matted hairs were poking out.
That wasn’t even Zeal. That was me – I did that… spread semen over my chest hair… and I loved it! What am I? What am I?
And there, hanging crudely out of his mouth, were his soiled red briefs – no longer proud and red, binding his crotch, but now filthy and stained and held between his teeth, making him look utterly idiotic.
Gagged with my own briefs… I mean, with my panties…
But the worst was yet to come. For the eyes that looked stared back at him from beneath cum-drenched eyebrows were not defiant or clever; there was nothing Super about them at all. They were the hungry eyes of a man who could focus on nothing but lust, nothing but pleasure, nothing but the moment. And this verdict was confirmed as, once again, he saw his hands reach for his penis, gripping it through the ruined tights and begin to masturbate helplessly.
No use, he thought, as his body began to move itself up and down involuntarily, grinding against Zeal, in thrall to the feel of the other man’s cock.
Can’t fight this. What kind of man am I? Maybe he’s right.
“Had a good look, hero?” snarled Zeal, as he licked Superman’s ear.
“Still think you’re so clever, Superman? Still think you can get out of this? Still denying you’re an idiot? Or do you think a ‘Superman’ would really be trying to hump my cock, just like you are right now?”
“Mmmmmmmff!”
Superman felt the warmth of Zeal’s touch depart from one of his nipples, and the briefs were pulled from his mouth. He stopped grinding against the stiff cock behind him.
“Well? Superman?”
“Uh. Uh. I’m sorry,” said Superman quietly.
“You’re what?”
“I’m sorry! I’m very sorry, Mr Zeal. You’re…. you’re right, sir. You were right and I was wrong. I’m... I’m an idiot.”
“Louder,” growled Zeal. “You know that I like to make sure the men can hear you, Superman. Don’t be shy now…”
The Man of Steel abandoned all hope then, and he turned and shouted at his reflection:
“I’m an idiot, sir! I came here to arrest you… b-b-but I can’t. Because I’m what you say: a moron, a… a… a Superchump, who wasn’t clever enough to fight you! I’m a prisoner – not to you, but to my own lust. A… a Superdickhead is what I am. I’m a Superdickhead who w-wants to give up control. It’s just as you said – I’m not a Man of Steel. I’m the Metropolis Moron. Mmm. I’m… a kinky Superwimp in my tights and panties! Oh! Please… sir… give me… give me… give me…”
He could feel the Vice Lord’s cock, pressing against his buttocks. It was hard to think of anything else. He pushed his body back, grinding against that throbbing spear.
Zeal’s eyes met his. “Yes? Give you what, Superman?”
Superman swallowed and the words that both excited and terrified him left his lips.
“Give me your penis, sir. I mean your dick, your cock – let me have your cock, please! The warmth of it – the heat… I can’t bear it! Please – Zeal – please, give me your cock! I’m Superchump, not Superman any more, and I want your cock!”
As he said this, Superman ground his body desperately against the Vice Lord’s, as if by doing so he could force that human penis up inside him.
Zeal laughed, triumphantly and let the hero go, making him gasp as he did so. Superman stumbled forwards, shaking. With his hands, he reached around and touched his buttocks, longingly feeling the place where Zeal’s cock had just been.
“All right, Superman?”
“No…n-n-no,” said the Man of Steel, “please, don’t call me that, sir – I’m not Superman. I’m Superchump.”
“Are you sure this time?”
“Y-y-y-yes. Superchump the Man of Jello. That’s who I am. Superman’s gone. Just give me your cock. Please sir,” the hero staggered around for a few seconds, demented with lust and then threw himself down on to his knees once more. He stared up at the Vice Lord.
“Please – put it in me! Do it!”
“Well,” said Zeal, “I can’t fuck you, not while you still remain invulnerable. But as you have begged me like the Superchump you are, I am willing to grant your wish. First, however – it’s time to get rid of the last remains of Superman. Take off that ridiculous costume, you idiot. You’ve already filled it with more spunk than it can take. Strip. Strip completely naked for me, you Super-cunt!”
“Oh! Y-y-yes, sir,” stammered the hero. “Of course… I’ll strip right away, sir.” He stumbled up, trying to extricate himself from his tights, and two more of the men came forward.
“Let us help you out, Superprick,” snarled one.
“Oh! Um… Th-thank you…” was the hero’s only response.
Dexterous fingers found their way to the bottom of his tunic and the waistband of tights, and both pairs of hands began to tug roughly at their prize.
“Ooh!” breathed the Man of Steel as he gave in and let these men remove the last of his clothing.
“I’m being stripped! You’re stripping me! Taking off my tights, just like you took away my briefs… I mean my panties.”
He couldn’t stop himself from saying this now, aware of how arousing he found it.
“Lost my panties… now my tights… my tunic… Stripping me naked like a… a real Superchump… a Superprick! I’ve l-lost it all! Oh… here it goes – down they come!”
The semen-drenched tights were first, the material bunching up at the end of his feet. As they were peeled down, Superman’s cock sprung free from its spandex prison for the first time that evening, and a cheer went up from the crowd.
“Behold,” laughed Zeal, “the last Cock of Krypton!”
A good twelve inches, it stood uncut, coated in spunk and pointing upwards as the tights were dragged from him. The men crowded around him to peer at it; one or two even poked it, but Zeal warned them to go no further.
Then Superman’s tights were rolled down over his feet, plucked off and thrown aside, their sticky contents pooling on the floor.
Next came his tunic, yanked roughly up and over his head. Once off, the man who pulled it from him rubbed Superman’s face with it, forcibly wiping the jizz-covered S-shield over his mouth.
“Uhhh!” moaned Superman. “Zeal! I’m n-naked now, sir. You’ve s-stripped me! I’ve been stripped naked. Please – your penis, sir… you promised me.”
Mad with lust, he dropped to all fours again without even being asked, and crawled across to where Zeal stood, gloating. The Vice Lord’s own suit was now smeared with cum trails from where he had clutched Superman to him.
“Please…” gasped Superman. “I’m begging you. Superchump the Man of Jello… is begging you. Let me have your penis.”
“NO!” came a voice from the door. “I’m next in line for you, Superman.”
“Ah,” said Zeal. “About time too!”
The crowd parted and Superman stared in confusion as the latecomer to the party strode into their midst, taking his place at Zeal’s side.
“What… don’t understand,” he said. “You?”
“Yeah,” said James Starkey, “me!”
He fumbled at his uniform belt, frantically pulling down his police trousers.
“What took you so long, Officer?” purred Zeal.
“You know what,” panted Starkey. “Your special delivery. Here.”
He thrust a brown parcel at Zeal.
The Vice Lord took the package from him and opened it as Starkey dropped his trousers and forced his underwear down.
“I see,” breathed Zeal. “You have done well.”
“Now,” snarled Starkey. “My turn, right?”
Zeal smiled, enjoying seeing how utterly bewildered Superman looked.
“Of course,” he said. “The Man of Jello here was just telling us all how much he wanted a penis inside him, and you look more than happy to oblige.”
The Vice Lord raised an eyebrow as his gaze slipped down from Starkey’s stiff cock to his semen-encrusted boxer briefs.
“Hmm. Seems our pathetic hero wasn’t the only one to cum in his pants this evening.”
“I don’t understand…” repeated Superman. “Officer… Officer Starkey? It was you who told me about this place… you tipped me off… you couldn’t have… you wouldn’t betray me…”
The dawning realisation washed over him.
“You have. You did! I… I’ve been set up. This was all a trap… to trick me, to unman me. You knew… and now Zeal’s made me into this: brought me down. I came here as Superman and I fell for it… all of it… I thought I was in charge… and yet all along I was just doing what you wanted… oh!”
Zeal slow-clapped him, regarding him with amusement and contempt.
“And the best of it is, Superchump, it didn’t take long to make you into this, did it?”
“Oh… oh god… no. No, it didn’t. Just like when Luthor tricked me. I fell for it so easily. I… I guess I really am a Superdickhead.”
“Enough,” hissed Zeal. “Starkey, give him your cock!”
James Starkey didn’t need telling twice, and as Superman knelt before him, open-mouthed in disbelief, the police officer’s erect penis met his unresisting lips and entered the mouth of the Man of Steel.
“Suck it, Superman,” panted Starkey. “Go on, suck me!”
His cock thrust back and forth inside Superman’s mouth, but the hero did nothing.
“Now, Starkey,” said Zeal, crouching down next to the hero. “Superman doesn’t answer to that name any more. He’s Superchump now, aren’t you? You should have seen how excited he got when I put this collar on him and made him get down all fours. You liked that, didn’t you? Go on, tell Officer Starkey. Tell him all.”
Superman could hear the unspoken warning in these words. In a small, faltering voice, he said:
“Yes, sir. Officer Starkey? Mr… Mr Zeal made me get down on all fours in my tights. And then he… he put me in a dog’s collar and leash, as you can see.”
“And tell him how it made you feel, Superman,” purred Zeal.
Superman blinked. “You mean Superchump, sir,” he gasped. “Superchump now. It m-m-made me feel good. Mm.’
With a quick look at Zeal, he risked a stroke of his erection.
“Mm. It turned me on when Mr Zeal made me get down on all fours, me – Superman. I mean Superchump. He made me into a dog. On all fours… with my panties on my head… and wearing a collar. And I… I… I liked it, Officer Starkey. Oh God.”
Zeal patted his buttocks. “Good boy, Superchump. Here, Starkey – take his leash and collar.”
Superman gulped as Zeal handed the dog’s leash to Starkey.
“You can take charge of him now, Starkey. A reward for your efforts. Make him into a police dog.”
“But…” said Superman, “but I…”
Zeal put a finger to his lips. “Hush, you pathetic idiot. Real men are talking now, not you.”
Superman’s eyes grew wide at this, but he said nothing. Naked, kneeling and with a dog’s collar around his throat, it was hard to dispute Zeal’s point.
“Okay,” said Starkey, “SuperCHUMP… remember when you were guest of honour at the Metropolis PD social last year? How you stood there taking the glory while everyone applauded you, and then you told us ‘we’re really all on the same side’?”
Superman’s eyes widened. He nodded. “Yes, sir. I remember.”
“Well, now’s your chance to show it, Superman. All those times you’ve taken the credit for keeping the city safe while us poor schmucks just get on with our jobs quietly? Now’s your turn to give something back. Isn’t that right… Superchump. We’re all on the same side, huh?”
Starkey hissed the words. And Superman slowly took hold of his stiff wet cock, withdrawing it gently from his mouth. All resistance gone, he nodded slowly.
“Yes, sir, Officer Starkey. All… all on the same side, sir. I’m sorry you thought I was taking the g-glory. I can see I’ve made mistakes. I’ll… do it, sir. I’ll make up for it now, sir. I’m… I’m Superchump… the Metropolis Moron… naked and on my knees… and I’m g-g-going to suck your… your dick. Like a good Superchump, sir.”
And obediently, taking slow and hesitant steps, Superman began to suck the police officer’s dick. He kissed the tip a few times, just as he’d done with Zeal’s feet.
“Mm. Mm. Mmf.”
I have to do it… come on… I asked for cock… let’s do this properly. Show Officer Starkey… Show Zeal…
And then he took the whole length of it inside his mouth and began his work.
As he did so, Zeal continued talking to him, whispering in one ear, while with another hand he reached out and began to masturbate the Man of Steel.
“You see, Superchump, you’re only just beginning to realise what an idiot you truly are. Starkey duped you into coming here and you couldn’t see it. You were too arrogant.
“And don’t think this is over, you flying Super-shithead. If you think I’ve brought you low now then trust me – I’ve got much worse still to do to you. I’m going to break you, Superman. I’m going to do such things to you that will make this – on your knees, naked and sucking off a cop just like you’re a whore – look like the height of dignity.”
“Mmf!” said the hero. As Starkey’s penis went back and forth across his tongue, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Zeal.
What have I done? What have I done? Oh!
Even as Superman began to realise the full extent of his predicament, Vince Zeal continued to masturbate him, while all around he was vaguely conscious of businessmen throwing his soiled uniform between them, laughing at it, taunting him, ridiculing the former Man of Steel.
He’s totally humiliated me! There’s no way back from this. Zeal’s right – I’m sucking a dick like a prostitute. His hand… on my penis… masturbating me… And the worst of it is… part of me – maybe all of me? – still wants it… so, so bad. I’m Superman, the strongest man in the world, and I’m willingly humiliating myself.
Look in the mirror: Superman is sucking dick! Superman is sucking dick, and he wants it! And… look at me… go on, Clark, just look at yourself and admit it: I like sucking Starkey’s dick! I like being on all fours and knowing what I’m doing! Knowing that I’ve been defeated! Yeah, Clark! I’ve been dominated in my tights. I’ve been stripped naked! Finally I’m not the big man any more – I’m… I’m Superman the cocksucker! What did Zeal call me? Mm. Yes. The Caped Cocksucker. I’m the Caped Cocksucker from Krypton, and I enjoy it! It’s true! Oh no! Oh no! Here it goes…
Starkey shuddered and gave a yell, and as the officer he’d once thought a friend began to cum in his mouth, and Zeal continued to whispered degrading statements in his ear, his hot breath and swift fingers punctuating every derisive word, Superman’s eyes strayed back to the mirror once more. He watched himself, on his knees, naked, a dog leash around his neck and his mouth defiled by an ejaculating penis, and then for a fleeting second, part of him tried to assert itself and remember who he was… who he had been…
Kal-El of Krypton. Superman. The Man of Steel. My mission… I have the powers of a god amongst these men. I need to save them… to be a light to them… to give these people hope.
Yet despite these desperate thoughts, Superman felt his mouth filling with the hot cum Starkey was pumping into him. And suddenly a more potent memory hit him then. He recalled the exact moment, just over an hour ago, that something else had entered his mouth. Zeal’s tongue. The moment he had given in and returned Vincent Zeal’s electrifying kiss. Not resisting it… embracing the heady feelings of lust… of being dominated by another man. Dominated by that man.
The Vice Lord.
Mmm… felt too good. I wanted it then. Zeal’s tongue in my mouth. Inside me. And I want this now. Mmm… my mouth… oh… filling… Starkey’s spunk… inside me… me, Superman… oh!
And with an enormous gulp, Superman swallowed a huge load of Starkey’s cum, just as he, too, began to cum.
Zeal felt the hero start to climax, and he let go of him, as yet another superhuman surge of spunk began gushing from his cock.
As for Starkey, he now withdrew from Superman’s mouth and blasted the last of his load over his face. The Man of Steel gave an ignoble shriek, high and thick from his cum-drenched mouth, even as he erupted like Vesuvius once more. And then he collapsed, falling backwards, and letting his superhuman seed pump away all over his writhing, naked body.
Standing up and shaking his head in amazement, Vincent Zeal turned and wiped his hand on the arm of his jacket. And then he inspected the package Starkey had given him.
“Yes,” he said, pulling out the contents. “A million dollars… now let’s see if it was worth it.”
And while Superman fell backwards, babbling like an idiot, lost in the throes of orgasm, Zeal held up a shining golden lasso to the light, and smiled triumphantly.
“After all,” he said, “the truth will always come out… and Superman just loves the truth!”
