Superman and the Brotherhood
Superman appeared as if from nowhere, with only a faint outline of a blue streak indicating that he had not just materialised. One moment the sky was clear and the next he floated majestically in mid-air with one spandex covered muscled leg bent slightly at the knee. His bright red cape billowed behind him in the afternoon breeze and his arms were folded with his big round biceps and his massive chest all competing to burst their way out of the tight spandex costume which struck fear into the heart of all villains.
A stern frown currently sat on his boyishly handsome face as he addressed the lone man standing in the park. So this was the guy who had created all this commotion, he thought to himself as he realised this must be a new villain at large. The man was about 6’4” with a muscled physique and a face which could have been crafted by the gods of old. His short blond hair was immaculately spiked and he wore a calm and disarming smile, which was somewhat at odds with the scene around him. The only truly unusual thing were his eyes which were as black as the depths of space.
Strewn around the man was the evidence of the fight prior to the arrival of the Man of Steel. Clutter and debris of all shapes and sizes, most of which appeared to have once been vehicles, statues, furnishings or trees. They were now smashed into large chunks and the muscled superhero noted to take care as the villain clearly had super strength.
What was more alarming was the total lack of any mark on the man, nor any sign of stress or exertion. Indeed, as Superman looked more closely he noticed that the man wore a tightly fitted black spandex suit which hugged a muscular frame, and there was not a single mark on the suit.
Superman breathed in but before he could deliver a scathing line to the new villain, words rang up from the ground clear as a bell through the breeze.
“Ahh, the hunky hero has arrived to save the day,” called up the man. He had a calm and soothing voice which the Man of Steel assumed would have served him well in a public role. Superman bridled briefly at the sexualised description and realised the man was trying to get under his skin.
He shook his head softly as he replied. “I don’t know who you are, but your little reign of terror has gone on for too long.” Superman paused for dramatic effect before continuing. “Give yourself up now and come quietly.”
The man gave a thoughtful look while nodding his head slowly. “I am One,” he said simply. “You make a lot of sense Superman. Rain of Terror seems quite fitting.”
Without warning the Man of Steel felt something heavy and solid impacting the back of his head as he was driven at a high pace directly toward the paved ground below. He was caught off guard and unable prevent himself from being driven into the ground face first, left with the dark object standing upright from his back. His cape lay lazily off to the side and his booted feet twitched slightly while one hand was hanging limply from an upraised arm. The Bubble Butt of Steel stood out from the paved ground, covered by the tight red spandex briefs.
One appeared in no rush to follow up his surprise assault, and he waited patiently for the muscled hero who, after a few seconds, brushed off the groggy feeling and quickly repositioned himself in the sky, this time armed with a heightened sense of perception and the strange object. He felt his biceps flex as he held it and did his best not to show the strain of lifting the inexplicably heavy object.
“Hey, I think this is yours,” quipped the Man of Steel as he threw the object toward One, who merely watched impassively as it hurtled toward him.
However, just inches before the object could smash into the handsome face of One, it connected with an unseen barrier in front of the strange villain and instead was stretched out to either side of his still calm visage. “By the way, you were almost correct,” came the deadly calm reply. “I would say this has gone on just long enough, to lure you into the perfect trap.”
Superman could not hide his shock as the amazingly heavy object was manipulated like a piece of putty. Realising he must be dealing with a powerful telekinetic he started to scan the area more actively and carefully for signs of attack.
The object continued to be manipulated and was soon turned into a long thick floating piece of ribbon-like material. Without warning it launched toward the hovering hero and began to wrap itself tightly around the Man of Steel. It moved with pace and expert design, with his arms trapped to his sides by the quickly moving object.
“Ugghhhh,” grunted Superman, as he struggled to free his arms from the ever-tightening bands. Within a few seconds he felt himself practically immobilised. Thinking to escape he activated his power of flight but then strangely felt the mass of the object increase exponentially and start to drag him down.
“Wha… how?” was the only confused sentence he could muster. One simply watched quietly, giving the mighty kryptonian a look as though he were chiding a naughty child.
Superman felt the band get tighter and tighter, as he landed heavily to stand on the ground. The bands were only wrapped from his waist to his shoulders, leaving his spandex clad groin and muscular blue legs free of entrapment.
He realised the bands were not relenting and noticed that he was getting short of breath. “Ugghh…” groaned Superman as he felt a wave of dizziness wash across his mind and felt his vision blurring as his eyelids fluttered in a feeble attempt to stay open.
One watched calmly as the most powerful superhero on the planet swayed unsteadily on his feet. His eyes were clearly out of focus and his head listed weakly off to one side. His breathing had become shallow and laboured as the bands removed almost any freedom for his lungs to expand and draw in precious oxygen. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, appearing to be failed attempts to question his attacker.
In less than a minute, the weakening kryptonian gave in to the immense mass wrapped around his mighty frame and he collapsed to his knees. He found himself unable to fall to his side, with his legs instead spread apart painfully as the weight continued to pull him inexorably down.
Finally his painful journey ended with his big red bulge squashed onto the pavement, pressed down by the terrible weight of the object, and his legs split out to either side. His head was held up by an unseen force so he was made to look at the man who had defeated him so quickly and effortlessly. Short gasps of breath could still be heard forcing their way into his lungs and drool was clearly visible as it traced its way down his slack chin.
One moved over to stand before the muscled mass of hero and reached down to feel the big bulging briefs. “My, my, Man of Steel,” he murmured, a smile now visible for the first time. A smile which, while terrifying for Superman, made One even more beautiful to behold. “This feels even nicer than it looks.” He felt carefully through the briefs of the immobilized Man of Steel. “I am going to have a lot of fun playing with this,” Superman groaned as he felt his shaft being squeezed by a sightless force, “and these.” A much more pained groan escaped his lips which was accompanied by a grimace of pain as the Orbs of Steel were crushed by the same sightless force.
One reached out with a cloth to carefully wipe the drool from the lips and chin of the Man of Steel, then leaned in to give him a long and passionate kiss.
The Man of Steel was disturbed and turned off by the approach but was helpless to resist the soft lips as they first grazed then pressed into his own. The tongue quickly followed and explored his mouth and throat.
“I think that should about do, don’t you Superman?” asked One as he stood back to admire his handiwork.
The mighty hero felt a fresh band wrap around his massively muscled neck before all the bands tightened yet again. He knew that his lungs would no longer be able to accept any of the precious oxygen he required and gave into his defeat.
One observed intently as Superman succumbed to what was effectively an extreme sleeper hold. Within moments of his breathing being cut off, his eyes fluttered then closed and his entire body hung limply in bands and unseen telekinesis. One and Superman then glided up and away from the scene of destruction and carnage.
The Man of Steel awoke to a pounding headache, sore testicles and a tight stretching sensation across his entire body. The headache quickly passed and he realised with relief that his powers were still intact. Within seconds he was fully alert and had assessed his grim situation.
The wall in front of him was a giant mirror and in its reflection he could see he still wore his costume and was currently suspended about four feet off the floor with his arms and legs running straight out and away from his torso, held by some kind of golden energy bands circling his wrists and ankles. He noticed in horror that a small slit had been cut in the lower region of his shiny red briefs. His balls had been pulled through and an extremely heavy weight was attached to the sack and was even now stretching it painfully down and away from his pelvis. He assumed it was augmented in similar fashion to the object which had been used to capture him.
Without thought Superman flexed his powerful body to break free of his restraints. The big muscles across his chest, shoulders, back, thighs and biceps all rippled and then turned to hardened steel as he pulled with all his might. But his exertion was useless against the powerful energy bands keeping him suspended.
With a sigh he returned his attention to his predicament. The bands of light had no clear point of origin so they probably derived through some form of magic or telekinesis.
Switching to his X-ray vision and super hearing he could see that the walls, floor and ceiling were all lined with lead. Barely muffled sounds could be heard behind the mirrored wall, suggesting that the lead coating was quite thick.
He continued to hang in his trapped position for another hour as his ballsack was painfully and humiliatingly stretched. At this point it looked as though he could fit his entire hand around the loose skin between the base of his shaft and his now low hanging balls. During his wait he felt the burning humiliation of his defeat and his exposure at the hands of the villain. Recalling the practically effortless way he had been totally manhandled and overpowered by One brought a fresh burst of red to his cheeks as his embarrassment grew.
In the adjoining room, One stood with a small group of men who observed Superman on a monitor bank as his massive muscles strained and flexed against the golden bands. To the side could be seen a small army of young men seated in a meditation pose with their eyes closed, sporting various looks of calm, focus and concentration.
As Superman was seen to struggle against his prison, One noticed the effect on the young men. Some groaned, some strained visibly and a few passed out, only to be replaced from a large pool of waiting Supplicants.
One nodded in contemplation as the test on their will was met and passed. “He has proven to be much stronger than our modelling suggested,” commented One as the group returned to their calm meditation. “I was surprised we needed 48 in the circle to subdue him.”
“Indeed,” responded an elderly man with a sharp and angry nod. “Naturally we came prepared, but never expected to have the circle so large. 18 of those men were burned by the Connection and a few more will likely be witless for the rest of their lives.” The voice carried no sympathy nor sadness. He merely stated the fact.
“Worthy sacrifices,” added another elder. “The work here is much less taxing on the Supplicants,” he continued. “The Foci are boosting their talents as expected.”
“And how is the work progressing with the link?” asked One.
A new voice offered his knowledge. “As you know, the alien has the benefit of strong defences and the completely unknown psycho-physiology. But we have succeeded in planting a Spy and a Seed. Each performed adequately under testing.” He paused briefly before adding. “Test suggests that any Seed will perish once absent from a direct link. However, the Spy appears to have adapted to the alien environment and should flourish independently.”
“Good,” responded One. “Can we take control of a power?”
“Yes,” nodded the same voice. “But only when he experiences pleasure. When he is in pain or rage the Seed will be burned. Also, even with the Foci our time here is limited. Anything more than an hour of him actively fighting and we will likely run out of Supplicants.”
One considered this information for a moment before nodding and replying. “Well, that makes clear our course of action: Pleasure. Heat. Pain. Are the Supplicants ready for the ordeal ahead?” Upon observing a confident nod, One merely added, “good. Let’s test some limits then,” as he exited through a door.
As Superman wallowed in self pity a door opened to his left, admitting One into the room. He carried himself with an unearthly confidence, something which the mighty kryptonian was unaccustomed to in an adversary, and therefore added to his own feeling of discomfort. Superman noted with curiosity that the eyes of One were no longer entirely black and were now a very human shade of jade green.
“Welcome Superman,” said One with that quiet confidence. “I trust you understand your situation and do not require the drudgery of an explanation.”
The Man of Steel grunted before saying. “I don’t know what sick plan you have in mind, but you won’t get away with it.”
A smile tweaked the side of One’s lips. “Who really can tell the future? I much prefer to live in the now.” He reached down and using one hand, picked up the weight and collar and held them in front of Superman’s face. “How are those Orbs of Steel feeling Superman? They seem to be hanging a little low down there.” He fondled them briefly eliciting a groan before adding with a tilt of his head. “You know for some reason I thought they’d be silky smooth.”
The Man of Steel bit back a retort, knowing any words would be hollow. But his cheeks flushed a fresh burst of crimson as he felt his balls being fondled by the handsome blond god with the green eyes.
One placed the weight on the ground then ran his hand over the spandex covered torso, feeling the tight and powerful muscles through the thin fabric. Relishing this moment he locked his gaze with the mighty hero as he played with the bulging arm and chest muscles and returned to fondling those low hanging balls.
He finished by working his hand down the washboard abdominals, making a comment as he did so, “that ten pack must take some time in the gym.” When he reached the bright yellow belt he unbuckled it and let it hang open, not wanting to remove any piece of the hero’s well known costume.
One then ran his hand over the red briefs and played with the shaft beneath. He knew that the teams in the other room would be scrambling the sensory perceptions of the hero to reduce his resistance and enhance his willingness to enjoy. As if on cue, a low moan escaped the lips of the bound hero and One could feel the shaft stirring under his hand. One resisted the urge to kiss those lips as he knew it would likely feed the resistance being offered up by Superman’s subconscious.
Instead he broke the eye contact to look at his prize. The bulge within the red briefs was growing and already the outline of his hardening cock could be seen. The stroking continued as did the fondling of the balls, leaving Superman to moan mindlessly under the combined pleasurable assault on his groin and mind.
Within a few minutes, Superman was sporting a full boner in his briefs and a small patch of precum showed the position of his head.
One took a calculate risk to draw the hero further in with a question in a soothing tone. “Does that feel good Superman? Do you feel the stress and pressure fading away?”
The answer was obvious, as the Man of Steel no longer strained against his bondage, but it was a good step to get his conscious mind to agree.
“Mmm-mmmm,” he murmured and nodded gently in agreement. “Ahhh… feels so good. So relaxing.”
“That’s good Superman,” continued the soothing tone. “You deserve to relax and enjoy yourself sometimes, don’t you? That sounds fair to me.”
“Mmm-mmmm,” he murmured in agreement once more. “Oh god… yes… deserve… sometimes.”
The replies from the Man of Steel suggested his mind was well into his pleasure centre, so One slipped down the band of the shiny red briefs and pulled out the rock hard Shaft of Steel with it’s uncut head glistening precum.
“Let me help you relax, Superman. This won’t take long.”
The eyes of the mighty kryptonian were glazed over by this point and he simply nodded his agreement and gave One a look of slight longing, which quickly changed to a look of ecstasy and need as the hand of One wrapped around the hard shaft and began to stroke with a slow steady rhythm.
The stroking continued and Superman was lost to the feelings of pleasure coursing through his body. He let his head slide back and started to make small thrusting movements with his pelvis as an urge to cum started to build.
One felt the thrusting and knew its meaning but continued his slow deliberate strokes. His patience was rewarded in less than a minute when the moaning stopped and the hero offered up a single word. “Please.”
“Yes Superman? What can I do for you?”
“Agghhh,” came the moaned reply. “Please go faster. Please make me cum.”
“Of course Superman, only too happy to oblige.” True to his word, One increased the pace of his stroking and the Man of Steel went completely limp in his golden bondage as he felt himself approaching the climax.
One stroked harder and faster and continued his stroking as the orgasm crashed itself across the superpowered body. Superman’s entire body flexed involuntarily as bursts of cum shot out of his cock, only to be captured by unseen bands of energy and removed quickly for safe storage.
One kept his hand wrapped around the still hard Cock of Steel and gently teased the sensitive head, causing Superman to come out of his euphoric state and buck in his bondage.
As though coming out of hypnosis, a shocked and disgusted look set itself on the face of the Man of Steel as he saw his hard cock sitting in the hand of the villain with remnants of cum dripping from the head. “What? How? What have you done to me?” came the outraged questions.
“That was the first of our procedures for you Superman,” came the confident reply from One. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”
“You’re sick. How dare you!” Superman blushed and struggled in the bondage but still he couldn’t budge the golden bands.
“The second phase will be somewhat less enjoyable I’m afraid.” As he said the words One stepped to the side of the Man of Steel and said, “please focus your gaze on your balls.” Sensing the resistance he added, “believe me when I say it will be easier if you comply.”
“I mentioned earlier my surprise that you do not have silky balls Superman, so I wanted to test a theory. Can your heat vision burn them smooth?”
The only reply was a look of distaste and disgust from the hero who could not believe what he was hearing.
“Focus your gaze on them please. I realise you won’t trust me, but I suggest you believe me.”
Superman stubbornly refused to comply and felt the unseen force moving his head to the desired position so that he was looking at his poor stretched ballsack. He then closed his eyes, partly in defiance, partly in shame for their treatment, feeling a small sense of victory.
That sense was short-lived though, as he suddenly felt shock and fear as his heat vision activated and began burning into his eyelids, forcing him to open them immediately.
One simply nodded as the heat vision was activated and reflected from the mirror back onto the Orbs of Steel. Immediately they started to glow a dull red and the smell of burning hair filled his senses.
Superman cried out in pain as his own heat vision burned his ballsack and watched as the unseen force manipulated his elongated sack, moving it around such that the entire surface was burnt clear of any hair.
“They look much better now Superman. Smooth and silky like the balls of a whore. I better wait for them to cool down before I feel them so let’s see how much they can take!”
“No! Please!” cried the bound hero as he desperately attempted to shut down his heat vision. The burning sensation increased as the sack was no longer being moved around, causing the effect to be focussed onto his testicles. “Arrghhhh! Arghhhhh! Please… the pain… stop!”
The Man of Steel was desperate to protect his balls and he struggled violently in his bondage, this time not giving up despite his failure. The pain was terrible and relentless as the power of his heat vision continuing to pour from his eyes directly into his reddened sack.
A thoughtful frown sat on the face of One as he observed. “Clearly we are getting near the melting point of those Orbs of Steel, Superman. They are glowing red now and look like they’re about to be melted clear off your body. How would it feel to have no balls Super…” One trailed off. “Hmmm. What would we call you then I wonder? Supereunuch?”
The rage and pain continued to build in the Man of Steel and he felt shock and surprise as control of his heat vision finally returned to him and he shut it off immediately. In spite of the terrible pain in his balls he experienced a burst of hope and flexed and strained with all his might.
One knew that the end of their experiment was drawing near so he proceeded to the final phase. Picking up the weight it immediately transformed into a telekinetically enhanced baseball bat. With precision and skill, One proceeded to swing the bat at the fully exposed and still very sore Orbs of Steel.
Whack! A sound like two heavy lead objects colliding filled the room. The low hanging balls were hit with such force they stretched out to the side before curving up and smacking into the steel thigh muscle and returning to dangle low and exposed.
Superman had been so busy fighting the golden bondage that he had no awareness of the new assault by One.
As the bat collided, Superman gave out a high-pitched scream laden with suffering from the pain which burst across his body like lightning. His powerful muscles spasmed in a natural response to protect his jewels, and he noticed that he had finally managed to move one of the golden bands.
Fighting the urge to give up, he took a deep breath to flex again but was interrupted by the second blow to his balls.
Whack! That same reverberating sound of two heavy leaden objects colliding. Again the balls were thrown up into the thigh of the hero, this time looking slightly misshapen and still red when they stopped their movement.
This time the cry from Superman was choked and tears were evident on his face. But the involuntary response was even more powerful and he finally found movement for both his arms. He wrapped his hands around the golden bands and began to pull, tensing and bracing himself for the next impact.
Whack! The third impact sounded more like a crunch than a thud and the pain gave the Man of Steel the strength to wrest his arms free as the golden bands shattered into nothingness. He quickly cupped his precious and hurting balls, desperate to curl into the foetal position and ensure nothing could ever hurt them again.
But self-preservation soon took over and he directed a murderous look of hatred at his foe, eyes glowing a fresh shade of red as he prepared to activate his heat vision and turn One into a smouldering corpse.
Infuriatingly, One simply slung the baseball bat over his shoulder and watched with one raised eyebrow as the threat of a painful death hung over him.
Superman risked the removal of one of his hands from his poor balls to wrench his ankles free and was soon hovering above the hated villain, one hand cupping his exposed and pain-wracked testicles.
With a howl of rage Superman directed his heat vision at the ceiling above One, bring rubble and molten material down on him instantly. The mass was then blasted with heat vision and cold breath as the Man of Steel fulfilled his primal urge to protect himself from the terrible foe.
Finally believing that he was safe from One, the Man of Steel launched himself through the new hole in the roof and flew away in an instant to heal, lick his wounds and lament his horrendous final actions.
After the hero had left, the shell of molten and frozen material shattered and was flung away from the unharmed form of One, who was shortly joined by the small group of men from the other room.
“That went better than planned,” opined One.
“Agreed,” replied the older man. “A lot of data about his limits and weaknesses.”
“And the Supplicants?” queried One.
“The alien was even more powerful than our last encounter,” came the reply. “Even with the Foci we would not have lasted much longer than when we dropped the bands.”
“The approach is validated,” added the older man. “We will develop additional methods to test and control him. It is just a matter of time.”
