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"Did you ever have one of those dreams, Clark?"
Where am I, thought Clark Kent. And why can't I move?
"The kind where you're paralyzed, and covered with snails?"
It's a man talking, he's behind me. Wait, I can move my head. But not enough to see him.
"Not ordinary snails either. African snails, big as your fist."
There's light on me, but around me, it's dark. I can't see anything else.
"The things'll eat the paint off houses, did you know that?"
I'm on a table, maybe. I can't see my body; it's covered with a sheet. And my X-ray vision isn't working. None of my powers are.
"In the dream they're all over you. Maybe they're even devouring you, a little bit at a time. One of them is crawling towards your open mouth, waving its little eyestalks at you. It's going to crawl inside you and you can't stop it. Have you had a dream like that?"
Even though he had no intention of answering, Clark said, "No."
"Oh. Just me, then. Well, you're having one now. A dream, that is. Without the snails, though. A dream that I control."
Controlling someone else's dreams? Was that even possible? But then, considering all the things I've experienced since I started high school, I guess anything's possible.
"You might be wondering what I want. You. It's all about you, baby, that's why I came here.
"I've set up a link to your mind. And here, in this room, this holodeck, I can manifest your dreams, interact with them. It lets me get inside your head, and make you experience anything I want.
"No pesky meddling from Jor-El, either. That's your real father from back on Krypton, from whence you came. Got rid of your spaceship, and all those annoying relics from the homeworld. Didn't even let you find the Kawatche Caves. Lex built his big corporate complex over them, and filled them with meteor rock laced concrete. Of course that means you haven't learned anything about your heritage, but that's as it should be. I'll be the one to fill you in on all that, when I want you to know.
"Why am I telling you this? Well, you won't remember any of it when you wake up. Nor any of the many other nights I'll be visiting your sleep.
"I'll explore every deep recess in your mind, mold it and reshape it, eliminate every shred of resistance until you're mine, all mine. You'll be my puppet, my trinket, my toy. When I'm finished, pleasing me will be your entire reason for being. And there's nothing you can do to stop me.
"Let's begin, shall we? THOMAS...
"Visual mode? Can I, can I, pretty please?
"Did I call you SELMA? I don't think so. Let's try this again. THOMAS, initiate Test1."
"Test1, comin' right up."
The blanket disappeared. Clark could see he was wearing a blue spandex outfit, with something yellow on the chest.
"THOMAS."
"Why'd we go to all the bother of getting me SELMA's abilities, when you hardly ever let me use them. I think it was just an excuse so you could get busy with Darien."
"THOMAS!"
"You never let me have any fun, boss. Fine, OK, on with the show."
Now Clark was naked. The next instant, he couldn't see his body, since there were snails all over it. Huge snails. He could feel their slime burning as it ate away at his skin. One inched toward his face. He realized his mouth was open. He couldn't close it. He couldn't escape. And as the snail started to crawl across his tongue, he couldn't even scream.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Weeks later
Clark woke from another restless night. But just as every other morning, as he tried to remember the dream, it slipped away, as did his concern. Getting out of bed, he was nude for only a few moments before getting dressed.
He took a minute to check himself out in the tall mirror in his room. If he were staying home to work around the farm this Saturday, he would be wearing nothing more than extremely short cutoffs, as he had taken to doing over the last few months. He was more comfortable that way, and he was getting a nice tan out of it as well. A better one than he ever had, in fact. Must be part of growing up, he mused.
But he was going into town today, so he wore a cobalt blue v-neck t-shirt and faded jeans. He had gotten them from a new store in Metropolis, where the clothes were all made from a new ultra-durable material. Which they needed to be, since Clark had gotten them two sizes too small. The shirt clung to his torso; the low cut neck highlighting the separation between his pectorals, his cleavage, for lack of a better term. It also accentuated his chest and powerful arms. And since he was wearing no underwear, the jeans felt and looked like a second skin. His thighs, and the lump he had crammed down his right leg, were emphasized to their best advantage. Even his ass looked more full than it normally did. He had to admit he was darned hot.
He had also started to notice how hot other guys were, too. He still loved Lana, but they were not dating or anything. He had never thought of himself as gay, but he was not human, so there was no reason why this might not be normal for him.
It made him wish he had known Whitney better before he died, or Pete before he left. They could have had all sorts of fun. Now in his senior year, one of the things he would miss when he graduated was football. And not for what happened on the field. Showering with the team after practice, he had to exert iron control to suppress a visible reaction to the hot sweaty manflesh on display all around him.
Though there was a part of him that wanted to let it happen. Because in that department, he knew he was definitely more impressive than the average human. Soft, he was not small. When aroused, he was even bigger. It did make him worry that if he and Lana were ever together in that way, he could hurt her. Not to mention the problem of ejaculation.
He drifted back to his first burst of puberty. And burst it had been. Thank goodness he was pointing skyward. It was embarrassing enough having to explain to his parents why there was a hole in the roof.
After that, he always held a small piece of meteor rock when he was having alone-time, which reduced the velocity to what was normal for a human. Unfortunately, it meant he never fully enjoyed himself after his initial experience.
Which reminded him that he had not had alone-time in days. Maybe I can work on that when I get home.
Done with his self-inspection, he traipsed down the stairs for breakfast. To his surprise, his parents were not there. Usually they were in the kitchen, and Mom would have made a big breakfast, with plenty left for him. But there was no sign of them.
His super-hearing picked up a creaking noise coming from outside. With his X-ray vision, he saw a figure in a rocking chair on the porch. When did we get a rocking chair? Opening the front door, he saw his mother rocking back and forth. It looked like she had a pile of yarn in her lap, and was doing something with it. This was very odd.
"Hi, Mom."
"Hello, Clark. Don't mind me, I'm just sitting here knitting."
This made no sense. He had never seen his mother knit. She had never talked about it. He did not even know she knew how to knit.
"I have to stay here while your father's entertaining guests in the barn, so I'm making a sweater."
Clark wondered at his mother's strange behavior. She sounded normal, but what she was saying, her attitude, was not. "Mom, are you OK?"
"Certainly, Clark, I'm fine. Go on, honey, they're expecting you."
"Who's expecting me? What's going on, Mom?" The concern in his voice was obvious.
"Oh, Clark, darling, don't worry about me. I'll be here if you need me. Go on, go on."
As he cautiously approached the barn, he noticed that the doors were all closed. The window to his loft retreat, his 'fortress of solitude', was not even open.
Using his X-ray vision to check inside first, he was startled to find that something was blocking it. It was as though the whole structure was lined with lead. He tried a tree in the front yard, and had no problem seeing through that. It was only the barn into which he could not see.
Or hear. Even lead would not explain that, since it did not obstruct his super-hearing. Something bizarre was going on.
Readying himself as much as he could for this unusual unknown danger, Clark opened the main door. "Dad, are you here, are you OK?"
"He's fine, Clark," said an unfamiliar voice from above. "So good of you to finally join us."
Clark walked slowly up the stairs. He could smell sweat. Sweat, and something else. A musky scent that peculiarly aroused him. It sounded like people were humming. Or was it growling?
Halfway up, he could see the back of one man. Lean yet solidly built, with a mop of blonde hair, wearing a close-fitting pale blue t-shirt, Clark could see him moving back and forth. For some reason, Clark was struck with an curious sense of familiarity, as though he should know this stranger.
A few more steps, and more came into view. The blonde man was standing, and now Clark could see he was tall, with mutton chop sideburns, and wore a pair of jeans that were as form-hugging as his own. And there were two people with him.
The one furthest away, whom Clark saw first because he was leaning against a wall, was about as tall as the blonde, making both a little taller than Clark. Tanned, lithe and muscular, he had a shaggy lion's mane of chestnut hair falling past his shoulders, framing hazel eyes, an aquiline nose, and a carefully cultivated five o'clock shadow. He wore a dark green plaid long sleeve shirt that was unbuttoned, with a lighter green t-shirt underneath. And nothing else.
The third man was on his hands and knees between the other two, naked, his face buried in the dark haired man's crotch. Clark could not tell much else from the angle he was at.
"Who are you?" Clark shouted as he reached the top of the stairs. "What are you doing?! Where's my Dad? Did you do something to my Mom? What's going on?!"
"No need to yell, Clark. You can call me Jay, for now, to answer your first question. As for the rest, I'll take them out of order, just for kicks. Yes I did do 'something' to your Mom. I could say I'm what's going on, but what it comes down to is, I'm here to see you. And your Dad's here, aren't you Jonathan?"
"Yes, I'm here." Where was his father's voice coming from? In front of him, but lower . . . No, it couldn't be, I can't, I don't want to look.
"It's alright, Clark. Yes, that's good, keep doing that, Jonathan."
It was his father between the two men! The panorama before him was so startling, a part of him was in denial of what he was seeing. Where his father's face was, he must be . . . No, it can't be, not Dad! And the other man, who Clark could now see had his jeans unbuttoned, was . . . this isn't happening, it's not real!
"Damn, you're even better than Luke! Nice and tight, mm-hmm." The voice was his father's, but with a southern drawl, and not coming from him. Tearing his gaze away (and what appalled him even more was the contented look on what was visible of his father's face), he looked up at the other man.
"Dad?" This stranger looked just like the pictures of his father from when his parents first got married, almost twenty years ago. But it couldn't be him, because his father was on the floor . . . How was any of this possible? Clark was stunned, but knew he had to do something to stop this.
"It's a lot to take in, I know," said Jay. "I think now would be a good time, THOMAS.
Clark had started forward, when suddenly each of his eyes were filled with a web of tiny crackling electricity. He stopped, and in a few seconds his eyes had returned to normal. Staring unblinkingly, at the scene before him, eyes glazed and mouth half-open, shoulders slumped slightly, arms dangling by his side; he made no further effort to interfere.
"That's better, isn't it, Clark? Why don't you just relax? Stand there and watch until I tell you differently."
"It is, I think, I don't know. What's happening?" he said woodenly. He felt drained, but not like being near the meteor rocks. Clark wasn't in any pain. It was as though he had no will to do anything.
"Yeah, boss, he ain't gonna do nothing less'n you tells him to," a voice said out of thin air.
"You've been spending way too much time with Bo here, and Luke," said Jay.
"Have not. Been hangin' with Coy and Vance, workin' on my duh-rah-wul."
"It's perfect, you don't need practice anymore, OK? Now, go and work out pi to the last decimal place or something."
"Like I'd fall for that one after analyzing every nanosecond of every episode of old Trek."
"Fine, you Deep Thought wannabe. Just go on standby for a while."
"Sir, I obey thy mandate, what you will command me will I do. My circuits grow dull, and fain I would beguile the tedious day with downtime."
"Downtime rock thy brain, and never come misquotes between us twain! Times like this I think I programmed both wisely and too well. Pick up the pace a little, Bo, while I talk to Clark."
"Yes, sir!" Immediately Bo started pounding Jonathan, the slapping of thigh against ass becoming more discernable.
Clark knew this was wrong, that he should be helping his father, that he should be doing something. But he could not make his own body move, much less fight Jay, who had left the other two men and was now standing in front of Clark.
"Gotta tell you, I've had my eye on you for a while. Been working those daisy dukes right nice. But it's time to see more of you, up close and personal. So far, not bad." Jay's hand roamed across Clark's chest and over his shoulder as he walked behind the frozen teenager.
"And no Visible Underwear Lines. The ass, now, not as bootylicious as I prefer. But we can work on that. If you were human, those jeans'd be killing you. But then, you're not human.
"You're wondering how this can be happening. Everyone else was easy, you know. It's funny, you're immune, or at least highly resistant, to every form of long-term mind control, did you realize that? I could have used magic, since you have no resistance to that. But it's so unreliable. I prefer the technological approach. So I tried something different. Ever heard of nanites?"
"No." It was an effort to say even that short syllable.
"Microscopic machines. Some are even submicroscopic. They can reproduce themselves, just like a bacteria or virus. And they'll do whatever they're programmed to do. Which, considering the brainpower at my disposal, is nothing short of amazing.
"I used simpler methods to take over your parents. Had them put some in your ear one night while you were sleeping. Thousands of them, but a thousand times that could easily fit on the head of a pin.
"They multiplied and spread throughout your entire body, infesting your brain and central nervous system, analyzing your physiology and neural structure, just as programmed. In less than two weeks, I had all the information I needed to start the next stage. Manipulating your dreams, exploring your thoughts and emotions. You didn't remember any of that, just as I intended.
"Then I tried some mental and behavioral modications. Wearing skimpy clothes, having gay feelings, you thought nothing was unusual about any of that. All according to plan.
"It's so weird; Tom's ten years older than you, so you look well old enough. But I wanted to wait until you were at least eighteen. Because doing the things I want to do to you while you're still technically a minor somehow seems creepy. I may be many things, but pedophiile, not so much. Yeah, I have standards, go figure."
Clark could not believe what he was hearing, nor understand some of it. Who was Tom? Yet his powerlessness to twitch even an eyelid made it obvious that Jay was telling the truth, at least in that regard. Clark's every mental effort was thwarted. He was effectively paralyzed, and could do nothing but passively listen, or carry out any command that Jay gave him.
"Oh, and the X-ray vision and the hearing problem? A little something I added into your programming, to keep you from knowing what was going on here ahead of time. Much cheaper than lining the place with lead and soundproofing it. Not that I couldn't have, but it was so much simpler this way. And this way it was less likely to spoil the surprise, that you're my puppet. And I'm going to have so much fun playing with you.
"Let's see some more of you, then." Jay took both of Clark's hands and placed them flat, one atop the other, between Clark's pectorals. "Tear it off completely, but not fast," he said, gently letting go and stepping back.
Clark unhurriedly closed his hands until they were firmly gripping his shirt. Moving languidly in opposite directions, the material stretched further and further. Finally, unable to be strained any more, the fabric tore open with a ripping sound. First Clark's chest was exposed, followed by pair after pair of his abdominal muscles. His belly button became visible, after which the edge of the hole reached the bottom of the shirt, and the hem parted with a snap. Clark reached up and wrenched open the still remaining collar. Grasping what was left in the shoulders in each hand, he pulled forward until the sleeves and the back of the shirt shredded. Stripping away the crumpled remnants, he let the tattered pieces tumble to the floor in front of him, exposing his smooth, hairless chest. Now done, Clark's arms dropped to his sides, waiting to be told what next to do.
"Breathing normal. No perspiration. Natch, since that was as tough for you as me tearing a piece of tissue paper, even considering how strong I made that material. Superhuman strength and complete obedience. I like that in a man." Jay moved closer and bent over, playfully flicking Clark's nipples with his tongue. Clark had never experienced anything like this before, and though a part of him was disgusted, he still made a low guttural groan as another part was becoming more aroused. "We'll have to find out sometime," said Jay, "what it takes to make you sweat. That, I want to see."
Moving upward, Jay tasted the skin near the collarbone, the neck, nibbled an ear, brushed lips down Clark's cheek.
"Kiss me as if I was Lana," he breathed into Clark's mouth. Full lips opened wide, Clark gently sucked Jay's tongue inward, while Clark's arms enveloped and enfolded him. Jay let himself get lost in Clark's strength and gentleness.
After a while, Jay broke from the kiss and rested his head on Clark's shoulder. "Lovely as that was, and much as I'd like to do more of that, there's other things to get to. Let me go. Good. Hmm," Jay said, noticing the mound in Clark's jeans, "seems I'm not the only one who's happy to be here. I want to see more, though. Get it up for me, all the way. Now."
At first, it looked like a snake was inching down inside Clark's jeans. Suddenly, the denim split and the mushroom head of Clark's endowment poked through, near the middle of his thigh. Rising upward, it continued expanding until he was fully hard.
"Yep, a shower and a grower. Makes a certain someone not look so super. Man, you could club a baby seal to death with that thing! Cut like him, though. That must've happened back home; wouldn't want to try doing a bris now, that's for sure. But hey, yours curves up more," said Jay as he massaged the rigid shaft, eliciting moans from Clark.
"You like? There'll be more of that later." Jay let go and turned to face away. Reaching back, he grabbed Clark's hardness again and pushed down on it. Moving back to straddle it, he leaned back against Clark's chest and relaxed, his hands falling to his sides. Jay was now supported both behind and beneath by Clark.
"In the meantime," Jay said as he pulled Clark's arms around his waist, "just stand there and hold me, nice and snug, while Bo finishes off with your father. Don't move, don't blink, and watch."
Jonathan and Bo went on for quite some time, with Clark looking on. His special abilities were no good to him, when robbed of the will to use them.
Then he felt one of his hands being moved by Jay downward until it was touching the other man's erection. Jay closed Clark's hand around it, and then began moving it up and down along its length.
"Keep doing that. That's it, good, that's so good." Jay said as he leaned his head back onto Clark's left shoulder, his right hand letting go of Clark's hand, reaching up and running his hand through the young man's hair. Clark's hand kept moving, pleasuring Jay.
This feeling of vulnerability and violation, was this what rape felt like, Clark wondered. He could not help his father, he could not help himself. Even dulled as his mind was, the sense of impotence broke through and he began to weep.
"Cry, Clark, let it all out," Jay said when he became aware of the sobbing. "We're almost done anyway. Be a good puppy, Jonathan. Sit up and beg." As Bo pulled out, Clark's father sat back on his haunches and put both hands in the air like paws, his mouth open wide and tongue lolling out.
"Now, Bo." With near simultaneous groans, Jay and Bo shot all over Jonathan's face and into his mouth. After they were done, Jonathan wiped off his face with his hands, then licked them clean.
"Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are." Jay ruffled Jonathan's hair, which made him butt his head against Jay's hand. "Go upstairs and take a shower, you two. Then have some more fun in Jonathan and Martha's bed. You be alpha this time, Jonathan." The canine behavior ceased immediately, as Jonathan stood up and went upstairs, hand in hand with Bo. Jay disengaged himself from Clark's embrace.
"It's you and me now. Speak freely."
"Why are you DOING this?!" Clark said through choking sobs.
"Because of YOU. Weren't you listening? I've come from very far away to meet you, Clark. Very, very far." Jay said, caressing Clark's face. "And it was worth the trip. What a fine specimen you are. Such times we'll have.
"That was only the warm-up, too. Now it's time for the main event. That certain someone I mentioned before? He's been waiting to meet you ever since I told him about you. He's wanted to really let go, but he couldn't. Not without hurting somebody, even killing them. But he won't have that problem with you. Come out, come out, wherever you are."
A figure floated down out of the rafters. As it came into the light, Clark saw that it looked like a man. But what a man! He was wearing some sort of blue spandex costume, with a red cape billowing out behind him. His face, framed by hair in a style like Jay's but shorter, had an exotic cast that Clark could not place. Asian, but not quite. His physique was spectacular, like the most perfectly proportioned bodybuilder imaginable. There was a symbol on his chest that he thought he should know. And he could fly! Could this be somebody from his home? But what a horrible way to meet, if it was true.
"A truly historic meeting, this." Turning to face him, Jay said, "Clark Kent, meet," then turned to faced the costumed man, "Clark Kent."
"What? Who?"
"This is a grown up version of you, Clark. When he looks like this, he's known as Superman, the Man of Steel. Tad pretentious, I have to admit. Mind you, when I found him on a parallel Earth a few dimensions over, he wasn't like this. His build was kind of like yours, but a bit more developed. But when I got him in my power, I had him do some serious working out in a red sun room. That's a room lit only with solar radiation from a red sun, like back on Krypton. That's the name of your home planet, by the way. In there, he was just like a normal human being. And his muscles could grow like a normal human's, too. Neat thing is, once I got him to this point, and exposed him to yellow sunlight again, he stayed this way. That's the great thing about you Kryptonians. Earth's sun does more than just give you superpowers. It apparently stabilizes your entire physique. Now he really is super.
"As you saw, he has at least one power that you haven't even developed yet, flying. He's got the super-strength, invulnerability, heat vision, X-ray vision, super hearing, the whole superhero package. And it's all mine, just like him. Isn't that right, Kally?"
"Yes, it is, every word. I've missed you." Superman strode to Jay and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him deeply.
Breaking, Jay said, "Well, I'm glad to see you, as if that isn't obvious. And you," Jay gave Superman's crotch a squeeze, "are SO glad to see me too."
"Always, every time. Though the floor show sure helped."
"I can see. Don't pop it out yet, though, you horndog." A little of the Man of Steel was peeking through an opening in his tights. The costume did not have one originally, but Jay had redesigned it so it was, at least in that area, like Superman was wearing a pair of briefs. There was a similar, but larger, opening in the back. Now he tucked Superman back in, evoking a gasp and making the former superhero tingle all over.
After recovering from the intimate touch, he said, "So, this is him."
"Yep, the younger you, sort of," Jay replied.
"You're right, he IS prettier than me. Those cheekbones, wow. I don't know about hotter, though. But as hot? Definitely! He has more up front than me, that's for sure."
"Jealous?"
"Nah. More to love. Or whatever."
"Let's hear it for whatever. But you, darling Kal, have way more cushion for the pushin'. His ass ain't nearly as sweet as yours."
"You're just saying that."
"Yes, I'm saying that. Who's the Master around here?"
"You are."
"Damn right I am. 'Cause there can be only One, as Duncan would say. And if I say your ass is sweeter than his?"
"Then I should kindly take the compliment?"
"There, that's better. He is almost as good a kisser as you, but you're ahead in practice time. Something the two of you can work on afterwards. For now, though, why don't you take off what's left of Clark's clothes and do some pushin' on his cushion.
"Thank you! You're the best Master anywhere."
"Well, that does goes without saying, but somehow I never get tired of hearing it, especially from you."
In less than a blink of an eye, Superman had removed the last vestiges of the younger man's clothing, even the socks and sneakers.
"The anticipation's been killing me," Superman said as he traced the line of Clark's jaw, then trailed his fingers down between the small valley between the young man's pectorals. "It's not just that I won't have to hold anything back. It's knowing that my Master is watching it all."
Moving around behind Clark, he gazed longingly at Jay. "It's intoxicating, doing what he wants, satisfying all his desires." Jay returned the look with a half-smile, half-leer.
Embracing Clark from the rear, Superman said, "And when he's done with you, he'll be your Master too. You won't know how you lived without him before you met. The day I became his, completely, was the best day of my life. You'll see. Now relax, I want to make this good for all of us."
Superman moved his right hand down to Clark's hip. The left glided down the length of his spine. Then a finger pressed, pressed, until it was inside Clark. Further in, stretching him until another finger joined the first. A third followed after a minute, gently working the inner muscles.
Pulling them out, Clark soon felt something else rubbing up and down his ass. Something long and firm and warm and pulsing. Superman whispered into his ear, "I'll take it easy, just go with it."
Clark closed his eyes, waiting. Then, penetration, and a beautiful moment of pain. Soon it was replaced with a fullness unlike anything Clark had ever believed possible. More and more of the Man of Steel entered him, until Superman's costume pressed against his buttocks.
"That's good, very, very good. Tell me when you get used to it, I'll wait until you're ready."
It did not take long before Clark said, "OK. I'm ready."
Superman's left hand touched Clark's left hip. Moving both hands up, he firmly held Clark's waist. Pulling almost all the way out, Superman pushed in again slowly, but completely.
Gradually, the pace increased. Soon the sound of their two bodies slapping together was audible. And not only that, but each groan from Superman was matched by Clark. A throaty growl from one was exactly mimicked by the other. It was as though the two were connecting on a level transcending the physical. Something no human had ever experienced.
Of course, neither of them was human. And since they were, in many ways, the same person, who knew what was possible, or impossible, for them?
As Clark realized when he opened his eyes and saw he was floating, nearly to the barn's ceiling. It's like we're in space, he thought. Is this what zero-gravity is like?
Superman rode Clark's virgin ass like a piledriver. Yet it did not hurt. Whether it was due to their invulnerability or that they were both so much alike, Clark was not sure.
Dust and hay stirred on the floor. Then a noise like radio static filled the air, followed by a translucent blue globe appearing around the two aliens, then disappearing.
A tinny voice from nowhere said, "This is your computer speaking. We're going to be encountering a bit of turbulence shortly, so I've taken the liberty of activating a level two force field for our viewer's protection."
"Come again?"
"Just wait, boss, you'll see."
Moments later, a rumble like far-off thunder seemed to come from within the barn.
"Superman just hit Mach 1. Well, parts of him, anyway," said THOMAS.
"I don't believe I said 'THOMAS, what is that?' Are we getting a complex."
"No, I AM complex. If anyone's likely to get a complex, it's you, oh my Creator."
"As if, with your gentle and loving reminders, oh my Creation."
"Hey, I've worked out an answer to the square root of minus one."
"Right, I'll start calling you Marvin now. Pull the other one."
"Just seeing if you were paying attention. Speaking of which?"
"I'm quite capable of listening to you while watching the super sex; multi-tasking's my middle name. Though I will admit there may be more blood going away from my brain to other body parts than normal." Jay's expression changed to one of devilish amusement. "Mach 1, I get it. They've broken the fucking sound barrier. Literally!"
Superman's jackhammering of his young alter-ego soon reached the point where he could hold out no longer, and he blasted a load of super-sperm greater than any he had ever done. Clark felt oddly full, strangely complete.
Wafting down like a couple of feathers, the two landed and collapsed into a heap. When Superman recovered his breath (since he'd been able to go full out, it had been that good), Jay said, "Tuck yourself in, put him down over there and take care of him, Kal."
Flipping the young man and throwing him onto a long hay bale, Superman engulfed Clark's still throbbing member, using all the skills that Jay had trained him with. But after a minute, he stopped and said, "This isn't working, I can't get it all this way." Lips on Clark's hardness again, he floated up until he was parallel to the ground. He rotated, his feet rising, until he was in a 69 position and his body at a 45-degree angle to Clark's. His head moved down until his nose was deep in Clark's pubic hair. Up again, and down, in a steady rhythm.
"I'll make a deal with you, Clark," said Jay. "If you can prevent yourself from ejaculating, we'll leave, let things return to normal, and never bother you again."
Desperate, Clark tried to think of anything else. Gross, disgusting, depressing, he struggled to suppress his rising passion. But Superman's skill was, after all, superhuman. Clark's mind was swimming, more and more unable to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure being given to him.
Never knew it could be like this, so good, his mouth, no, can't think about that, it's hard, I'm hard, so hard, can't let myself, let it stop, no don't stop, got to hold on.
Clark pulled his feet up until they were flat on the hay bale, then started thrusting into Superman's mouth. He reached for Superman's head, but before he could get a grip, the Man of Steel started swallowing repeatedly, using his throat muscles to work Clark's entire length in a new way. The sensation so overwhelmed Clark that he fell back on the hay bale moaning, his arms now hanging loose over the edges.
Sensing how close Clark was, Superman clamped his lips tight, then hooked an arm under Clark's knee. With his free hand, he twisted two fingers into Clark, then vibrated them. That was the final straw. With a yell, he filled Superman's mouth with what felt like a never-ending fountain.
"Oh-god oh-god oh-god oh-god oh-gah oh-gah oh-gah uh-ga uh-ga unnh-unnh-unnh" The force of Clark's release would have blown Superman across the room if he had not secured himself in anticipation. As it was, he had no problem swallowing every bit, losing none of the young man's corn-fed goodness.
Clark was amazed that the orgasmic euphoria was increasing, even as his emissions diminished. It was as if he was spiralling higher and higher on a raging tornado of bliss. It was beyond anything he could have ever imagined. Finally, thought ceased as he drowned in an ocean of ecstasy.
"He's looped and loopy, boss. He ain't coming out of it until you say so."
"Good. I love that after all I put him through, he still believed we'd might leave him alone. But then, he was so desperate, he had to hope, didn't he? Gullibilty is that boy's middle name. So, once we get him back to the lab, you can finish the conversion process?"
"Yep. He ain't gonna be able to resist, the state he's in. All according to plan, Stan."
"Just like we discussed, Russ."
"Aw, take a pill, Phil, and letcha 'self chill."
"Enough, already. You too, Kal; front and center."
Superman, still orally attached to Clark, gave Jay a hangdog look.
"You can be the biggest baby sometimes. But really, it's not as if he even feels you anymore. So let go of the lollipop, come over here and I'll explain."
In an eyeblink, Superman was kneeling before Jay.
"I do love when you get all submissive without me even asking. Hey, eyes up here! How many times have I told you? When I'm talking to you, I want to see your face, not the top of your head. Plenty of time for crotch-staring later. That's better. So where was I?"
"That's right, exposition. Ok, Kal, the thing is, since we had you as a baseline, the nanites could be much more efficient in the initial control phase with Clark. Now with you, I went the pain route. Made you think I'd turned you into a murderer, even that you killed Lois, your one true love, to break that core of Kryptonian resistance.
"With Farmboy here, I decided to try the pleasure path. There were experiments done in my world, where wires were inserted into the pleasure centers of the brains of mice. Then two buttons were put in their cages. One would give them food, the other would stimulate their pleasure center. The result? The mice pressed the pleasure button to the exclusion of getting food, and starved to death.
"I pre-programmed the nanites so that while you were having it on with him, they zeroed in on his pleasure center, stimulating it more and more. Now he's basically in a pleasure loop, oblivious to everything. You could bury him under a mountain of Kryptonite and he wouldn't feel a thing. Thus, no resistance to his reprogramming.
A moan distracted Jay. Clark was trembling, a spasmodic shudder running through his body. He arched his back, inarticulate sounds coming from his open mouth. Then he collapsed and lay limp. Except for one part of his body, which stood upright and showed no signs of softening.
"THOMAS, could you tone down our young friend's flopping around? At least until after I've finished explaining things to Kal."
"Kinda easier said than done, boss. Boy's got a load of pent up libido, and it's coming out all over. May even overload the nanites, if we don't get him back to the lab soon. I can modulate it some for a while, but talk fast, OK?"
"Don't wanna risk that. Alright, that was mostly it anyway. I can always fill in the details later. Best get him to the lab, Kal, post-haste. You know the way."
There was a rush of displaced air, and the two aliens were gone.
"Gate's opening. Stabilizing. Solid connection. And they're through, boss."
"Shut it down. I'm going to check on Pa and Bo, then I'll spend some quality time with Kal while you finish with young Clark."
"A-okey-dokey."
The possibilities, thought Jay. Now I can conduct the power transfer experiments I've been planning since Superman the Elder became mine. Red kryptonite beam or green kryptonite with electricity, one way or another I should be able to acquire Farmboy's powers. Not permanently; don't like having to deal with the long term green Kryptonite side-effects. It does mean Kal and I will be able to do it like superpowered rabbits. And if I can effect partial powers transfer, leaving Clark with some of his abilities, I can have both of them at the same time. To be the meat in a Superman sammich. If that ain't heaven, I don't know what is. Combine that information with what THOMAS is getting out of Duncan, and, dare I think it, even immortality may be within my reach.
Chuckling, Jay left the barn and headed for the house, visions of eternal super-sex dancing in his head. What could possibly top that? At the moment, Jay couldn't imagine. But he was always up for a challenge. He knew that, whether with THOMAS' help or not, he'd think of something.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
CAST:
Clark Kent - Tom Welling
Jonathan Kent and Bo Duke - John Schneider
Superman - Dean Cain
| Read Part 6 - Virtually Controlled |
| Read Part 7 (2) - Counterpart |