Fullgear1215 - Geared

Superman needs convincing. Chapter 2

It had been three weeks since Superman’s fateful encounter with Lex in his penthouse apartment. Lex would provide intel to Superman about the movements of his assets and Superman would make himself scarce by taking care of some other emergency.

Superman was at least free to deal with other crime across Metropolis, but this only served to allow Lex to strengthen his hold on the criminal element across the city, which was now more active than ever with Luthor’s crews running rampant.

Superman had started to field questions about his apparent lack of action against these criminals, with even the Daily Planet publishing stories which doubted his impartiality. It was getting increasingly difficult to find alibis and excuses.

A further side effect of the Kockring was becoming an increasing nuisance. The Man of Steel was unable to cum. He could easily get an erection but any time he was close to cumming, the Kockring would intervene with one of its pulses and block his release. His balls had increased in size and his cock was hardening almost constantly as it strived to find release.

Clark had taken a leave of absence from the Planet, under the cover of returning to Smallville, as Superman did not want Lex to use the device to track his regularly trips to the apartment of Clark Kent.

Superman had only made one attempt to remove the Kockring and that had been an abject failure. Deciding to assess the Kockring with his own abilities, the Man of Steel had located an old abandoned warehouse and removed his belt, boots, tights and briefs.

Standing before a mirror he had inspected the Kockring which encircled his shaft just below his balls. When he pulled at the skin at the base of his shaft he could see the small steel pins piercing the skin of his shaft and feel them held against the inside of his cock, as the internal teeth prevented them from exiting his impervious body.

The Kockring was rigidly set in place as the pins did not allow it freedom to move. The Man of Steel pulled and pushed around the pins but his invulnerable skin would not permit any movement. As he touched and prodded himself, his cock began to harden in response and he felt a wave of horniness wash over him, causing the Man of Steel to tug on his hardening cock a few times.

Taking a different approach, Superman tried to carefully feel the surface of the Kockring for any features or abnormalities. It was perfectly smooth to the touch and Superman complemented his sense of touch with his super powered sight and sound, but could detect no points which appeared to allow any kind of input or external control.

Superman had believed it when Lex had said that tampering with the Kockring would cause it to spill its harmful radiation on him, so he refrained from using his strength or heat vision. He knew either of these could instantly ruin the Kockring but would almost certainly render him helpless – or worse – and summon Lex to his position.

After many long minutes of useless exploration Superman had decided there was no hope. Just before he reached down to pull up his pants he had an idea. His cock was still hard so he pulled the shaft and balls away from the ring as far as they would go then shot a stream of icy cold breath toward the Kockring.

Superman thought it was worth a shot, as it would not rupture the Kockring but maybe he could freeze its internal circuitry and prevent Lex from using it to control him.

The cold was starting to affect the ring, as he could see the surface changing colour. The Man of Steel was feeling hopeful and tried to position himself to affect a different part of the Kockring. However, as he was moving his head he heard a sonic pulse emanate from the Kockring and felt a wave of pain emanate from his groin and spread across his body as the effect of kryptonite radiation set in.

Immediately his powers fled him and he was left rocking on his feet as all strength seeped from his bones and left him barely able to stand.

“Unngghhh,” he groaned, as he felt rhythmic pulses blasting from the Kockring. He fell to his knees with his head hanging weakly over his shoulder and arms and hands slumped beside his S emblazoned chest.

“Urrghhh. Must… stand…” he grunted as he strained his weakened muscles which were now unable to even lift his own weight. He stayed on his knees for a few moments more before he started swaying as the weakness continued to take its toll.

After a minute he could not even lift his head and he finally collapsed onto his side before rolling onto his back with his limbs splayed around him. His balls sat over the pulsing Kockring and his still rock hard erection was pointing up his stomach and throbbing to the point of pain.

“Mmmmhhh,” was all the Man of Steel could moan as the effects of the green k radiation pulses continued to deprive his mighty muscles of their strength.

In contrast, his cock was now so hard he thought it might explode and it was throbbing in time with the pulsing of the Kockring. The throbbing in his cock was driving Superman crazy with the need for release and he was desperate to jerk his cock and relieve the tension.

He focussed all his energy on lifting his right hand and managed to raise it before resting it on his chiselled abdominals. By this point he was sweating and breathing heavily from the exertion, but the need to relieve his throbbing member filled his thoughts.

The Man of Steel strained again and managed to wrap his hand around the hard shaft and felt an immense sense of relief as he gave it a weak squeeze. Then, with slow and laborious movements Superman was able to slide his hand up the engorged shaft before resting and sliding back down.

Superman knew he was too weak and helpless to build enough speed to finish himself off, but his cock was so desperate for release and his mind so obsessed that he could not stop trying.

For what seemed an eternity the Man of Steel lay on the dirty warehouse floor with his tights and briefs around his ankles, jerking himself off just enough to leak precum and edge himself without any hope of relief. The huge muscles on the frame of Superman bulged beneath the blue tunic but they were just useless slabs under the effects of the kryptonite.

Superman heard footsteps approaching and saw Luthor’s smiling face walk into his vision. “Well, well Superman. Either you’ve been hiding your kinky side or you were playing with things you were told not to play with.”

The helpless hero could only grunt as he continued to slowly and impotently jerk himself under the watchful gaze of Lex.

Luthor waited patiently as he observed the spectacle of the mighty Man of Steel reduced to a simpering pile of sexual lust. Lex had already been observing this self-degradation by the Man of Steel for over ten minutes before he even made his presence known.

Superman was being driven increasingly mad as his raging boner continued to scream at him for relief. “Please Lex,” as the name escaped the lips of the Man of Steel he saw Lex make a slight shake of his head and felt a searing pain across his muscled form, although it did nothing to reduce his erection.

“Uungghhh. Please…” a longer than necessary pause, “sir.” Superman gritted through closed teeth. “I need release. Please help me sir.” Lex continued to look at the Man of Steel with a small frown. Superman tried again. “Please let me cum sir, I beg you to let me cum.”

The benevolent smile returned to the face of Lex as he said. “Of course my pet,” and motioned to an aide. The aide immediately prepared the scene for Lex, laying down a rug beside the slowly jerking Man of Steel before removing the suit jacket, tie and shirt of Lex.

“Stop now,” said Lex simply with a meaningful look at Superman’s hand on his cock.

The Man of Steel gave a desperate look in response but stopped his weak jerking and let his hand fall back to his side. The Cock of Steel continued to throb in time to the pulsing of the Kockring.

Lex placed his hand around the throbbing shaft of the Man of Steel and said, “continue to beg me and flex your muscles.”

Superman groaned but almost immediately complied. “Please sir, I so badly need you sir. Please make me cum sir.” He spent what little energy he had weakly flexing his once mighty muscles as Lex touched them with his other hand.

“You are such a weakling Superman. Your mighty muscles have been reduced to nothing and you can’t even finish yourself off. Your flexing is weak and pathetic and your muscles are useless.”

“Yes sir. I am a pathetic weakling with no strength. My big muscles are too weak even to please you sir. I am sorry for being such a disappointment sir.”

Lex continued his slow strong strokes on the Cock of Steel. “You are fortunate Superman, that I am so generous. Few would be willing to show such mercy to one as weak and pitiful as you.”

Superman blushed in shame, even as he continued to flex for Luthor. “Yes sir. I am weak and pathetic. I do not deserve you. But please sir, please don’t stop. Please take mercy on my weak and pathetic form.” Superman was almost delirious with the need to cum. Lex’s stroking of his cock had brought him closer and he felt like he might finally get an orgasm after so many weeks of impotence.

“It truly is pathetic Superman, to see the once mighty Man of Steel, lying helpless on the ground begging for a handjob.”

“Yes sir, I am helpless and pathetic. But please sir, don’t stop. I will do anything for you, just please don’t stop.”

“Anything Superman?” Lex looked deeply into the crystal blue eyes of the Man of Steel.

As Superman started to respond a powerful orgasm rocked his body and jets of hot white cum shot out of his cock and onto his chest and face “Ohhh! ugghhh! Great Scott! Yes sir, anything sir!” Superman continued to moan in ecstasy as Lex milked the still hard and throbbing cock.

Lex proceeded to tease the now sensitive head of Superman who, in his weakened state, could only writhe in agony on the ground.

“Very well Superman, I accept your offer. Finis,” he added.

The Man of Steel breathed in relief as the effect of the green k radiation wore off and he felt the strength returning to his body.

Lex continued. “You are to come to my apartment tomorrow at 6pm. I’m sure you remember the address. Do not change or clean yourself before you come. You may stand now.”

A look of confusion crossed the handsome features of the Man of Steel but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and just nod. He stood up, shakily at first but then with the confidence of his superpowered muscles.

Lex reached his hand out to Superman’s face and wiped the cum which had fallen onto his hand against the cheek of the Man of Steel. He turned and departed saying only, “until tomorrow, my pet.”

Superman was more shaken than ever as he realised the complete control Lex had over him through the Kockring. After Lex had departed he pulled his tights up over his dirty ass cheeks before replacing his briefs, belt and boots. The shock of the last request from Luthor reverberated around the mind of the Man of Steel and he stayed in that very spot until the next afternoon at 5:59pm.

At 6pm, Superman landed on the private penthouse balcony and walked toward the open door, through which he could see an aide standing near Luthor’s desk. Superman had not returned here since the day he had been introduced to the Kockring and he shuddered involuntarily at both the memories of that day and the events of the previous afternoon.

As Superman walked through the open door, still covered in his own cum, the aide gestured to an open door, through which the Man of Steel walked.

The spandex clad superhero entered the chamber where he had awoken during their first encounter and saw Lex standing near the middle of the room. He was clad in the same leather attire as their first encounter, which showed off his muscular physique.

As the Man of Steel entered, Lex noted with satisfaction that – as requested – the hero was still covered in his own cum plus the dirt from the warehouse floor. “Thank you for coming Superman. Good for your word I see,” said Lex as Superman walked through the balcony door.

Superman was livid with rage at his treatment at the hands of Lex but managed to keep his anger in check, merely nodding in response.

“Excellent,” continued Lex with a smile. “I have an experiment I would like to conduct today.”

The Man of Steel gave a confused look to Luthor who only added, “on you.”

“I would like to see just how impervious you super body is. Specifically, your super balls.”

Superman’s eyes widened in concern as the words left Luthor’s lips. He tried to find words but could not so Lex jumped into the silence.

“Come now Superman. You did say anything. And I did let you cum, did I not?” To emphasize his words Lex waved the riding crop around in the general direction of the cum stained body of the superhero.

Superman blushed at both his state and the circumstance that got him here. At least, he thought to himself, he isn’t asking me to commit or allow a crime.

“Alright,” Superman caught himself in time and added, “sir. How would you like to conduct this experiment?”

Lex waved his hand and a flurry of activity took place near the corner of the room.

Superman moved over at a gesture from Luthor and made a closer inspection. There were two footprints on the ground as well as two cuffs protruding from the ceiling. A column had also risen just in front of the footprints.

Lex assumed a more authoritarian voice. “Lower your briefs and tights and stand on the panels,” to which Superman obediently complied. Superman noticed that the column stopped at groin height and had a circular opening on the side.

Lex moved over and pulled the cock and balls of the Man of Steel through the circular opening, leaving the Kockring outside as it did not fit. Superman noticed that there were three indentations on the surface of the column. Two of these were raised and Luthor placed the testicles onto each of these. The third was longer and lowered and Luthor positioned the shaft into this one.

When Lex was finished the Balls of Steel were sitting high and exposed with the Cock of Steel tucked safely away.

“Hold onto these cuffs. They are not able to take your full strength, but they should withstand any involuntary shaking you may have.”

Superman again complied and placed his wrists in the self closing cuffs then gripped the chain with his hands.

“This device was designed to test just how impervious your Balls of Steel truly are Superman.” As Lex spoke another column dropped from the ceiling to sit over the orbs and shaft. “It will apply increasing amounts of pressure until either the machine is unable to go higher or… well,” Lex grinned as the next thought crossed his mind, “I’m sure you get it.”

Superman could only gulp as he stood there trapped within the strange machine. He knew his body was extremely tough but things had managed to make an impression in the past. And he had never been explicitly attacked in the balls, which he knew were a significant weak point of all men.

Lex took a step back to observe the experiment and made a signal to the operator.

“15%”.

A whirring noise could be heard followed by a sharp cracking sound, like metal on metal. Superman felt a brushing sensation on his balls so presumed that was the sound of the device striking his testicles.

Luthor considered for a moment before saying simply, “25%”.

The Man of Steel felt a slight sensation but nothing overly notable.

“35%,” came the next call from Lex.

The series proceeded in 5% increments with no reaction from the Man of Steel, although he was feeling a growing sensation against his nuts as the pounding continued.

“90%” said Lex. Superman had thought that he might have lost his excitement as the experiment had progressed without result, but Lex was still glued to the body of the Man of Steel to gauge his reaction.

“92%”

Superman winced as the sharp cracking sound was heard, giving way to a feeling of alarm within the Man of Steel.

“94%”

Superman felt a sharp stab shoot through his testicles as the sharp cracking sound was heard. His breathing increased as he braced for the next number.

“96%”

Superman knew pain like he had never known before. His groin felt like it had been stabbed and a ball of pain moved to his stomach.

“96%”

Again the pain shot through his balls and he felt the searing pain shoot into his stomach. This time he could not help but cry out, “Urrghhh!”

“96%. Staccato.”

A triple shot of the sharp crack sounded and the Man of Steel felt pain explode across his balls in a series of rapid fire successions. “Please sir, please sir. I can’t take any more,” Superman cried out in desperation.

“96%. Staccato.”

The triple shot sounded again and Superman felt the need to double over in pain. Deciding he no longer cared about his promise and tried to rip his hands free of the cuffs, but found he was held tight.

“96%. Repeat,” came the phrase from Lex.

The pounding resumed on the balls of the Man of Steel but did not stop. Superman cried out in pain as his testicles were abused repeatedly by the merciless device. He pulled at his cuffs with all his might but could not pry his arms lose. His booted feet had also been encased and he was prevented from bringing his legs up to try to defend his poor abused balls.

“Urgh. Ahh. Ohh. Ngg..” Superman felt he was about to lose consciousness as the pounding on his balls continued. Crack. Crack. Crack. Came the sound from the device as the mechanism pummelled into his now vulnerable balls.

The pounding continued as Superman was plunged into the blissful oblivion of unconsciousness when the pain in his testicles became too much even for the Man of Steel to withstand.

Superman awoke to a terrible and painful throbbing in his groin and immediately moved his hands to protect his sore jewels. As he opened his eyes he noticed that there was something blocking his vision.

Lex smiled happily as he saw the mighty Man of Steel rouse from his unconsciousness. After Superman had passed out, Lex had let the body slump to the ground with the swollen and bruised balls hanging out.

He had been so excited by the success of the experiment he had felt the need to jerk himself on the spot and cum over the body of the helpless hero.

As Superman awoke, Lex could see his fresh cum splattered over the eyes and mouth of the muscled hero. He yearned to sink his cock deep in the mouth and ass of Superman but knew that proper training required suitable patience.

As Superman tried to blink his vision clear he could see Lex standing over him with his still dripping cock in his hand. The Man of Steel realised his situation and felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness and weakness, even though he was not currently under the effects of green k.

“The experiment was a success. You may go,” said Lex before exiting the room.

Superman could only manage, “thank you sir,” before picking himself up off the floor and flying out of the apartment in terror.

Russian face and no shame... Cc @miami76 @lazysharkkid @quando2

Spiderman (short story from a virtual RP session)

Peter Parker was walking home late at night when he heard sounds of fighting from nearby. Realising his superhero alter-ego was needed, he ducked into a nearby alley to change.

Peter removed all of his clothes and stood in the near darkness for a moment, fully naked. He then removed his costume from his bag and started to pull the lycra up and over his muscular limbs, assuming the identity of the masked hero known as Spiderman.

Spiderman was relatively new on the scene, but he had already created a name for himself as a guardian of justice. Peter adjusted the final piece of his costume and stopped briefly to admire the feeling of the lycra on his bare skin. He ran his gloved hands over his muscled form and felt the fabric rub softly against the bare smooth skin beneath. Where his fingers touched, he felt a soft tingling as the shimmery material touched him. Spiderman felt a hardening in his cock from the contact, leaving him to wonder briefly at the wisdom of not wearing underwear. He decided it was too late to change now, so he sprang to action.

He donned his mask and shot off a web to answer the hero’s call. Four web-slings later he landed in a darkened alleyway to see three common thugs beating up on some poor guy probably just out for a walk.

The thugs noticed Spiderman immediately and decided they were up to the task of taking the young crime fighter down. As they advanced, Spiderman quickly shot a web toward the first thug, causing him to fall in a heap, tangled by the sticky web.

The second thug continued his menacing advance, although a little more cautiously after Spiderman’s display of power. As he advanced, Spiderman executed an acrobatic flip toward the thug and landed a kick to his stomach, taking him down with ease.

Getting a strange Spidey Sense, the lycra clad crime fighter held back and observed the third criminal through cautious eyes. As Spiderman sat in a ready stance, the criminal flashed an object which shone a light directly into the hero’s masked eyes. The bright light momentarily blinded the young crimefighter and he felt a momentary cloud over his mind.

Shaking off the strange feeling, he launched toward the man and laid him out with a sweep of his leg. As Spiderman stood over the criminal he thrust another object forward and dangled it in front of the webslingers face, issuing a simple command in a soft but firm voice, “watch.”

Spiderman felt a sense of calmness wash over his mind as the spinning disc flashed and swirled. He attempted to take control, but found his thoughts scattered saying, “What trick is this… that… I’m watching now?”

“Yes,” continues the hypnotic voice, “you want to watch.”

Spiderman’s body starts to go limp and his arms sag a little as his muscles lose their tension gradually. A small part of the young hero’s mind warned him of danger and he shook his head slowly, although not losing contact with the disc. “No, this isn’t right. I shouldn’t… be watching this. I won’t,” he continued with slightly more conviction. The muscled body of Spiderman started to tense again as he recalled that he had been fighting this criminal.

The Magician reached out with his power to reinforce the command and the lycra covered young hero felt a strong compulsion to listen and obey. Spiderman could only stand in place, swaying a bit and watching the disc as it grew before his mind’s eye.

The hypnotic voice continued again, sounding loud but calming to the ear of Spidey, “There is no need for conflict, Spiderman.” The Magician exercised his power as he spoke to take hold of the young hero’s mind.

Spiderman managed to continue with a small resistance, even as his body continued to sag and sway under the influence of the hypnosis. “I… must…” he reached for the right words, “take… you down.” The last was almost said as a question, more than a statement.

“We are all friends here, Spiderman,” responded the soothing voice.

“Friends?” Spiderman struggled to maintain his sense of self as the powerful hypnosis took hold over more of his consciousness.

“Of course,” came the disarming response. “You can relax here, we are all friends.” The Magician placed his hand on the masked forehead of the young hero to enhance the effect of his power.

Spiderman could feel the heat of the contact on his forehead, a heat which seemed to wipe away the remaining icy feelings of independent thought. As the last vestige of Spiderman’s will fell away, the young hero started to feel weak, slowly losing the strength to stand.

As he slowly fell, Spiderman could feel strong hands grip around his lycra clad biceps which prevented his fall.

“You look weak, my friend,” says the soothing voice. “Maybe you should rest.”

“I… feel… weak,” responds Spiderman, with a weak nod in agreement.

“Yes,” says the Magician, and with a final push of his talent adds, “sleep now, young hero.”

The final command is too much for the mind of the young hero, and his body slumps forward as he enters a light daze. The now recovered thugs who had gripped the biceps of the young hero, captured his semi-conscious form and carried him through a nearby door.

In his dazed state, Spiderman could feel the strong hands of the men on his body, his muscles in thrall as the touch penetrated through the lycra costume. Once inside, they placed the lycra clad form onto a reinforced steel bench and clamped down the wrists and ankles of the young crime fighter.

As the clamps were locked in position, the magician relaxed his hypnotic hold and Spidey’s senses kicked in to warn him of his predicament. He realised the warning was too late though, as he pulled in vain against the reinforced steel bindings.

The Magician stood beside the trapped hero, admiring the firm muscles as they tensed and flexed beneath the lycra while Spidey tried to free himself. “You have a strong mind, Spiderman. It was more than I expected.”

“What is going on here?” Demanded the young superhero. “Stop this. What are you doing to me?”

The Magician ran his hands over the lycra covered muscle, thrilling in the feeling of the hard muscles on display.

“Stop this!” Repeated Spiderman. “Let me go! What do you intend to do?”

“All in good time.” The Magician reached a hand up and pinched a nipple through the elastic material, twisting it harshly. As he did, a look of pleasure travelled across his stern features and he sighed with an almost erotic relief.

“Noooo. Stop!” Spiderman demands, as both his nipples harden and poke through the spandex material.

“I have been keen to test your mind and body Spiderman. My thanks to you for offering this opportunity.”

“What are you saying you fiend? I offered you nothing,” Spiderman replied defiantly.

Without further comment the Magician began to run his hands over the lycra encased muscles and then up the legs and inner thigh, feeling the muscles tensing through the thin material.

Spidey felt alarmed at the physical touch of a man on his body. “Hey! Stop! Get your hands off me.” A hint of fear crept into his voice, as he added, “this is wrong. I’m straight, man.”

The Magician looked impassively at the prone and muscled form of the superhero laying under his hands, before looking to the superbulge beneath the smooth stomach and – upon seeing the growing member – raised his eyebrow and added with a smile, “it seems your body isn’t quite so sure, Spiderman.”

The Magician motioned to his men, who moved over and started to rub and caress the vulnerable superhero through his lycra. As they rubbed their hands and felt the hard muscles, Spiderman could feel his body responding to the pleasurable touches, “Oh god. Noooo. Nooo,” he exclaimed, as his cock continued to harden into a clear outline through the dark spandex around his groin.

While the men fondle the bound webslinger, the Magician moved up to stand near Spidey’s face. “Shall we remove this mask Spiderman and see the man underneath?” While asking the question, the Magician teased the bottom of the mask up the neck while Spiderman struggled helplessly.

“Please. No. Don’t!” Desperation could be heard in the voice of the young superhero as fear of his identity being revealed further eroded his composure.

The Magician moves the mask further up to reveal the soft lips of the young hero, who was frantically struggling to free himself, while fighting his urges to give in to the touches of the men.

“Convince me, Spiderman. Beg me,” said the Magician with quiet force.

“Please! Please no… don’t remove my mask. I beg you, please don’t,” the young hero’s begging turns to soft sobs, “please… don’t… not my mask.”

The Magician nods slowly and left the mask in place just above the lips of the young hero.

By this point, the henchmen had focussed their efforts on the sensitive regions of the young muscular body plus the hard shaft. The feeling of their touch on his muscles and cock through the lycra drove Spiderman mad with lust. His body had now taken control and yearned for the heat of their hands. His body writhing in clear evidence of his growing lust.

“Are you sure you want this to stop Spiderman? It rather seems like you are enjoying it,” taunted the Magician as he watched his men at their skilled work.

“Ohhh,” simpered the young hero. “Stop…” he said weakly. “Don’t… stop,” he continued weakly in confusion.

“Tsk, tsk Spiderman. You’re giving my boys mixed messages.” At a signal, the boys removed their hands from the lycra clad shaft but continued to rub the legs and muscles of the young hero.

Spiderman’s cock twitched beneath the lycra, dark droplets of precum visible on the dark material.

“Please… Please! Don’t stop!” begged the young hero as his cock was robbed of the precious rubbing sensation.

“Please…?” the Magician trailed off mysteriously, letting the word hang there.

Spiderman responded, desperate for the rubbing to resume. “Please! I beg you!”

The Magician hovered his hand just over the shaft of the young hero, repeating the same mysterious question again. “Please…?”

Spiderman could feel the heat of the Magician’s hand and flexed his cock in an attempt to reach the hand. The tent in the lycra surged in response as the shaft of the young hero reached up in a futile attempt.

“Please… don’t stop?” Spiderman searched desperately to give the Magician what he wanted.

“The correct form of address must be used, Spiderman,” said the Magician, running a nail up and down the throbbing shaft while he waited patiently.

Realisation dawned for the young superhero. After a short internal struggle, Spiderman found himself saying, “please… Don’t stop… Master.” Even as the words left his lips, the young hero could feel a thrill wash across his body. An electric sensation which brought his nerves to life once he acknowledged the power held over him. A power he now freely yielded to.

“Good boy,” replied the Magician simply, flashing a warm smile at the young superhero.

The henchmen return to their task and began to service the sexy superhero in earnest. Finding the zipper, they released Spidey’s balls and shaft. A small sigh of disappointment escaped the lips of the young hero as his cock was denied the feeling of the smooth spandex, but was quickly replaced as the men got to work.

The first devoured the balls of Spiderman in his mouth, moving them around and massaging them with tongue and suction intermittently.

“Ohhhh. Oh god! Ahhhh,” moaned Spiderman as he felt the hot mouth wrapped around his testicles.

Immediately the second man placed his mouth over the head of the webslingers shaft and swallowed the head and shaft into his hot and wet mouth.

Spiderman was overwhelmed by the new sensations as two expert cock suckers lashed his balls and cock with a combination of tongue and suction. The young superhero was in a state of bliss, having never felt his cock so hard as it is with these two men.

“Would you like to cum, Spiderman?” asked the Magician, as he stood watching, rubbing his own throbbing member.

“Please, Master. Yes,” replied Spidey.

The men removed their mouths and a vibrating wand was brought out and run across the balls and shaft of the young hero. “Yes! Yessss!! Don’t stop. Please don’t stop!!!” begged the young superhero through the sounds of the vibrations.

The Magician gave the young hero a dangerous look and said, “please..?”

Spiderman quickly corrected himself. “Please Master! Please don’t stop, Master!”

The free hands of the henchmen continued to rub and caress Spidey’s muscles through the lycra, eliciting sounds of pleasure and joy from the young hero.

“Would you like to cum, Spidey?” the Magician asks again?

“Yes Master! Please Master!” replied Spiderman enthusiastically.

“If I let you cum, will you do me a favour?” asks the Magician with an innocent tone.

“Yes Master. Anything for you, Master.” Spiderman felt the need building within his cock and replied with a mixture of desperation to please his Master and the need to cum.

“You so badly want to cum, don’t you my little Spider?”

“Yes Master,” replied Spiderman. “I promise. I swear. Anything for you Master!”

“Good boy,” said the Magician as he signals to the men.

The sucking on Spiderman’s balls, shaft and head resumed. The mouths of the two men felt wet and warm on the cock of Spidey, who began to feel a familiar tingling in the base of his cock. The cocksucking henchman plunged his mouth down the full length of Spidey’s cock and nestled the head at the back of his throat.

Spiderman’s body was now slick with sweat, saliva and precum and his body quivered with anticipation. The two men continued their dual oral assault on the young superhero with the sucking and tongue lashing bringing the young hero to the edge.

“Ahhhh,” he exclaimed in a rising tone. “Ohhhh… godddd!” The mouths continued their work and before long Spiderman felt the cum slide through his balls and cock and erupt into the eagerly waiting mouth of the henchman. The other henchman eagerly licked up any cum which escaped.

The powerful orgasm washed over Spiderman and his body twitched within the bondage as the muscles responded to the feeling of ecstasy.

When Spiderman had finished riding the orgasm, he looked over to see the two henchmen standing before him, cum dripping from both their mouths and finally noticed the blank looks in their eyes, a clear sign that they were puppets of the Master.

When the glow of the orgasm had faded, Spiderman realises that he has just had his first gay experience and that he has also acknowledged this criminal as his Master. A deep shame spread from his cheeks and across his body, but was quickly replaced with a desire to serve his Master.

“They are… your puppets, Master?” asked the young superhero.

“Of course, my little spider,” he replied, reaching down to pat Spiderman affectionately on the chest. “I would say this experiment was a success.” The Magician added with a smile.

“A success, Master?” queried Spiderman, feeling a thrill from the heat of his Master’s hand on his chest.

“Oh yes. A complete success.” With a sigh he continued, “We have to leave you now. And don’t forget our deal, little Spider.”

“Our deal, Master?” asked Spiderman.

“Yes. My favour,” replied the Master.

“Yes,” nods Spiderman. “Of course, Master. Anything for you. I understand.”

“Good boy. I will leave you to work yourself out of this… predicament,” he drew the last word out, letting it sink into the mind of the young hero.

Spiderman felt confused as he replied with unexpected candour. “I… err… I am enjoying the bondage, Master.”

The Master merely nodded with approval, adding, “this should provide a little… distraction… for you.”

The vibrating wand was set on the highest level and placed to rest against the balls of the young superhero.

“Ooohhh,” moans Spiderman as the vibrations spread across his balls.

The Master departed, leaving the door open, allowing anyone passing by to look in and see the semi naked form of Spiderman, bound and at the mercy of the vibrating wand.

Batman - Injustice 2

thank you so much for this hot story 🥵

My buddy and I had a bit of a friendly rivalry going on. We were both in the same cycling club and had made a bet on who could place higher throughout the summer racing season. I was leading by a few points by the penultimate race, I am the stronger cyclist after all, but I had tweaked my knee towards the end of the race and the club doctor insisted I end my season early. Of course my buddy, prick that he is, insisted that the last race would still count towards our bet, saying some shit about “cycling is about endurance,” like he wouldn’t be begging to call off the bet if I was still in the race.

Whatever. He could try to beat me but I wasn’t going to make it easy, and even if I couldn’t actually ride I wasn’t going to sit out the last race of the season altogether. See I had this bottle of solution gifted from a former partner that made it possible to merge someone with the clothing they were wearing. This person I was dating had a kink for being objectified, literally, and would use the solution to turn into my underwear or my workout gear. They forgot the solution at my place after spending last week as my socks and I figured they wouldn’t notice if a couple drops went missing.

So the night before the race I took my time doing PT exercises for my knee and slipped into the club lockers after the rest of the team went for dinner. My buddy forgot his lock as usual so I unlatched the locker to see his favourite racing kit hanging ready for tomorrow. I stripped out of my own clothes & stowed them in my locker and stood naked holding the black and red kit. Filling the eyedropper with solution I let three drops fall onto the crotch of the kit and quickly pulled it on before it started to dry. Feeling the pad pushing the damp fabric into my perineum sent a shiver through me and as I pulled the zipper up to my neck I felt an almost electric surge spark through the suit.

I had to act fast, I had seen how quickly the solution would act but I didn’t anticipate the euphoric effects of the process. All I wanted to do was rub my hands along the fabric of the suit as my body was sucked into its fibres but I had to focus. Stowing the bottle of solution into my locker I latched and locked it closed. Then, letting out an involuntary moan as every movement i made in the suit felt like the edge of orgasm, I squeezed my head and shoulders into my buddy’s locker and attempts to slip the arms of the hanger, with quite some difficulty, between the fabric of the suit and my shoulders. It was difficult to manager in the tight space but I was running out of time, the black fabric of the suit weaving it’s way down my arms as my fingers began to shrink away. Just in time I got the hanger secured and I felt myself swing back as my legs, which had been hanging outside the locker, disappeared into the suit. I expected to bang back into the wall of the locker but instead I swung lightly from the hanger, my body already hollowing out as the kit pulled it in. With what was left of my disappearing arm, I nudged the door closed and felt it latch shut, sealing me in darkness.

It was a bit of a head trip hanging from a hanger as a sentient piece of fabric but I tried to stay focused on the task ahead. My awareness had changed - I still had sight but my vision was slightly blurred and was distributed throughout the suit giving me wider awareness. I found that if I concentrated I could expand and contract my fibres slightly. Feeling my own fabric rub against itself caused a thrilling sensation to run through me and I couldn’t help thinking about how amazing it would feel to have my buddy’s body stretching me out and rubbing against me. I tried not to stay focused and not get lost in the fantasy, but what else is an empty cycling kit supposed to do in a dark locker but rub itself raw thinking about how it feels being worn.

The rest of the night stretched on but soon enough I heard the locker unlatch and felt a hand pull me off the hanger. I didn’t know what time it was but my buddy must have been running late because he wasted no time pulling me on and zipping me up. I almost lost my mind feeling his smooth thighs pulling me tight, my zipper holding me close against his torso and my pad caressing his— okay focus. I could see why my partner was into this, I might have to ask him to switch roles after I get him back his solution. But my buddy was taking his place with the team, I felt our teammates slapping his back as they traded words of encouragement, one of them tapped his ass affectionately and I felt my buddy’s cock chub up a bit against me. Filed that one away for a later razzing.

The gun went off and the team took off, my buddy jostling for a spot near the front of the peloton. I felt determination rippling through him, he would have to finish in the top two spots to gain enough points to win our bet so no room for missteps. But a misstep was exactly what I was hoping to create and, wrenching my attention away from how good my pad felt squished against him by the bike seat, I got to work. I focused every fibre of my being on squeezing his left thigh, trying to make him cramp. I held on for several minutes while his hamstrings pumped inside me as he snuck closer to the front of the race. No luck, the extra compression seemed, if anything, to help him pump harder. I tried to focus on his right shoulder instead, pulling tight around his shoulder blade and socket to tip him off balance but all I managed to do was to wedge myself tighter into his armpit. He was still pulling ahead, having broken out of the peloton and drafting the front group of four cyclists. I had to find some way to through him off before he climbed further.

Then I let my attention drift to the place I had been avoiding. His balls, nestled in my pad and his cock resting flaccid against my fabric. Just one blow to the testicles would be enough to take him out but I didn’t have that kind of control. I would have to be gentler. Instead of squeezing like I had with his muscles I gently tightened and loosened my fibres around him in a delicate massage. It worked immediately, his cock clubbing up slightly against my tight lycra.

It was strange how intimately I could feel his concentration break, his shoulder muscles tensing inside me as he realized with a mix of horror and perverted pleasure that he was starting to get hard. I loved how flustered I had made him and redoubled my efforts, squeezing myself rhythmically against his cockhead as it began to peek upwards and out from under my pad. I noticed with pleasure that he was starting to slip backwards and he did to, he tried to adjust his position on the seat to calm his growing distraction but the movement just threw off his cadence and gave me more opportunity to tease him. I was surprised how much I enjoyed feeling his muscles squirm against me, his cock twitching in protest and pleasure inside my fabric — not in a sexual way of course, I was just enjoying how hard I made him, I mean how hard I made the RACE for him.

Because of my distraction he was far behind the four leaders by the time we approached the straightaway into the finish, there was no way he would win the bet this way. But just as it seemed I had won I felt him stand up on his bike like he was climbing a mountain, pushing harder than he had the full race. It was obvious to me that he was trying to keep my padding from pushing into him and arousing him, but I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. As he surged up towards the leaders I flexed every fibre I had, pushing my pad against his perineum and cupping his balls, vibrating against the length of his cock but he kept surging, passing the fourth place cyclist and then the third with only 500 meters to go. I could feel his embarrassment soaking into me with his sweat as the cheering crowd watched him, fully erect inside me and standing upright on his bike where everyone could see. I pressed against him in every way I could as he pulled up aside the second place cyclist and buzzed over the finish line just a hair ahead.

I could feel his chest heaving with pride after the race as he gulped air and slapped the backs of his fellow cyclist. I could only feel disgust and disappointment as he reached down and touched my fabric, pushing his still hard cock down against his thigh in an attempt to hide it. But as he and the other medalists approached the podium, I saw one more opportunity to exact revenge. He may have won the bet but I wasn’t defeated yet.

As he climbed to the second place position I went full tilt on him again: rubbing myself against his nipples and massaging the length of his beautiful cock, I mean his pathetic cock, right. He let out an audible grunt of surprise and jerked his hips forward involuntarily, causing the other medalists to look over in confusion. I felt his ass clench as I pushed my pad up against his hole, trying to hit every erogenous zone. I knew he would be exhausted from all the edging during the race and it wouldn’t be long before he gave into me. Sure enough, just as he reached his hands cautiously away from covering his crotch to take the medal being presented to him I gave his cockhead one last rubbing and he gasped aloud, involuntarily lurching forward and grabbing the shoulder of the presenter to steady himself as a visible wet spot bloomed through my tight fabric to the shock of the presenters, medalists, and gathered crowd. Mission accomplished.

“What the fuck just happened?” I heard him think

“Oh my god he completely soaked me, I can even taste his cum.” I thought

“Wait, I recognize that voice,” I heard him think again, “who is that?”

“Wait, he can hear me think? How does that work?”

“Oh my god it’s you!” He thought, “couldn’t just accept defeat so you used inanimation solution to try to stop me from winning our bet. How pathetic.”

“Hey, I’m not the one standing in front of a crowd of people with cum leaking through your suit. How do you know about the solution anyway?”

“I’m not the one who turned into fabric just to jerk off their rival, you could have just asked. And as far as the solution, I’ve played around with it — obviously you haven’t or you’d know that either party coming to orgasm forges a telepathic connection between clothing and wearer.”

“You kinky bastard, when this solution wears off I’m going to beat your ass. Bet’s off man!”

“Sure maybe I’m a bit kinky, but it seems you might be as well. And as far as the solution wearing off, you won’t turn back until you’re off someone’s body for at least an hour - and I don’t plan on taking you off any time soon. In fact, maybe I’ll spill a couple more loads into you before I rinse you off in the shower.”

With that I fell silent and he stepped off the podium, embarrassed yes, but vindicated as well. And when I saw the open mouthed stares ogling my cum-soaked fabric, it felt like their looks of disgust were directed, not at him, but at me.

Many thanks to @fullgear1215 for the story idea and for the photos 😇

Why “drone”?

A number of kinky friends, online acquaintances, and strangers on Twitter and Recon have recently been interested, curious, and/or confused about my new screen name rubberdrone, and what I mean when I identify as a “drone”. I thought I’d write a bit about it, perhaps for myself as much as everyone else.

So what does it mean to me then?

One aspect of being a drone is that the notions of control and obedience are slightly abstracted, separated from the individuals. A drone does not necessarily derive satisfaction from serving the whims of any one master, especially if the demands are arbitrary or self-serving. Instead, it is most motivated to serve a greater goal or purpose—in short, a drone must have a mission. I feel like this is the biggest insight into why I bristle at doms who demand personal service. Such demands feel aimless and serve only to diminish.

Being diminished is not prima facie bad, however—it depends on the aim. The man is necessarily diminished, but in order to make him into something greater, more powerful, and more purposeful: the drone.

This is, for me, the other important marker of my D/s identity: being a drone is not about being made powerless, it is about being made powerful. To have human weakness and frailty stripped away, buried by the gear and machines to become something driven, ruthless, and unstoppable. In this mental space, the purpose of bondage is not to render a helpless pitiable object, it is to restrain the drone for the safety of others. A drone is dangerous, almost weapon-like, and must be closely controlled both mentally and mechanically.

Controlling a drone, then, is about controlling the gear. The gear directs its will and presses it into service to the mission. A drone must be forcibly subdued and bound, completely sheathed and armored; every breath, fluid, and sensation controlled. Its fetishistic addictions are manipulated and finessed to harness and reprogram it until no trace of humanity is left to reason with.

A drone is not a heedless automaton or slave—it seeks the command of those who will exploit its strength, reprogramming and reshaping it. I particularly enjoy the idea of a drone programmed to dominate as a powerful adversary, sent to subdue and convert and spread its infectious programming, or to capture, restrain, and wipe other malfunctioning drones.

This identity continues to unfold, and I am finding this journey quite captivating.

Background

I’ve had a fairly unconventional relationship with the domination/submission aspect of kink for a very long time. I’ve had some difficulty through the years articulating and understanding what I do and don’t like when introducing power dynamics into my play. It was complicated enough to explain that I would often just tell potential playmates that I didn’t like D/s; that I was a pure fetishist. I frequently wondered if that was actually true, since I was and still am frequently turned off or even annoyed by guys who attempted a standard approach to eliciting my submission or enticing me to dominate them. Yet, I still occasionally enjoyed scenes with a D/s flavor.

Recently I’ve been zeroing in on what parts of those great D/s scenes turned me on, and conversely how I feel and respond when it falls flat. I thought a lot about where my head goes when I’m in gear, or in the flow of a dominant or submissive streak. I reflected on my personal style and why I like this gear and not that. And I explored my fantasies in long conversations with some really creative and wonderful kinksters.

I finally, recently, adopted the label “drone” as the best handle on the concept. I like this identifier because it’s derived from a fantasy that speaks to me very strongly. It also has the nice advantage of being relatively unfixed as a piece of kinky jargon at the moment. At the very least, it is not terribly overloaded or laden with tradition. I hope to use it to carve a niche for myself (and perhaps others) in the kink world.