Heroes: Bane of My Existence 2

Sequel to "Bane of My Existence"

Chapter 1: The Batmobile

Outside Gotham City, the spandex-clad muscleman drove down the empty highway at breakneck speeds, testing the incredible handling of the one-of-a-kind vehicle. His bulging biceps flexed inside the famous gray unitard, straining the seams. His mountainous pecs distorted the black Bat symbol as the fabric stretched across his massive chest.

Under his black mask, he actually smiled, an unusual event for the determined and serious muscleman. The Batmobile was unlike any other car in existence and he had to admit, he was impressed by its capabilities. In any other vehicle, he and his unconscious passenger would likely have spun out, rolled or crashed multiple times. It was an engineering marvel.

In fact, the arrogant powerhouse was much more impressed by the car’s performance than by the pathetic display from its previous owner earlier tonight. His vaunted opponent had presented no challenge. The outcome of their fight was never in doubt. Not that he had expected anything else. His months of detailed preparation had played out exactly as planned. As it always did. Still, he would have enjoyed a little competition. Some kind of surprise.


Bane looked over at the passenger seat with smug satisfaction. Batman was strapped in tightly, held up by the jet-style seatbelts secured over each shoulder and around his waist. Yes, the former champion of Gotham City was drugged, but a victory was a victory. Bane vowed that he would soon own the hero outright without the need for chemicals. It would require some intense training, but he knew that he could do it.

Batman’s naked muscles were still large and sculpted, but now they were also limp and soft. The hero’s cowl left his jaw visible. It was square and chiseled, but slack with a trail of saliva running down his chin. Messy boy. Admittedly, even exhausted, destroyed and used, Batman still looked like an amazing man. Bane knew that it would be a joy to have the hero as an eager sex slave and loyal henchman as he conquered Gotham City.

In addition to his own black and white mask with red eyes, short black leather gloves and tall black pro wrestling boots, Bane mockingly wore the hero’s gray bodysuit and mighty utility belt as symbols of his victory. He had left in place a few reminders of who the hero once was: the black boots, finned gloves, long cape and famous cowl. After all, Batman without his costume was merely a billionaire playboy and there was no satisfaction in defeating one of those.

As the villain drove down a stretch of the empty road, he idly caressed Batman’s firm inner thigh. They actually weren’t that different. Both men were brilliant. Driven. Perfect physical specimens. They both wanted order and control. The difference was that the Caped Crusader used his time and formidable assets playing by society’s rules. Bane did not. From his use of Venom to build his body to his use of people to further his agenda, Bane refused to be limited by lesser men. And that was why Batman was now the slave and Bane was now his master.

The villain slowed the Batmobile down. He couldn't resist reaching over and fondling his victim's magnificent cock. Batman stirred slightly but didn't wake. However, even asleep, his shaft grew hard at the touch of his new master's black leather glove. The muscleman toyed with the rock-hard rod, squeezing it hard as he jerked his unconscious captive. The hero moaned as the drug cocktail that kept him unconscious was also making his manhood erect.

It took very little time before Batman was gasping. His head swayed as he was milked. HIs chiseled body twitched. The villain steered with one hand and pumped with the other. The Caped Crusader’s cock suddenly erupted, his cum spurting out. Even now, the helpless hunk was capable of a huge load, hitting the dashboard. The villain pumped until Batman was soft. The hero soaked Bane’s hand with the final drops of his seed.

Bane wiped his cum-covered glove on his captive’s sagging pecs. As the world’s most dangerous man, Bane always killed his targets, but he’d been hired specifically to destroy and enslave this one for a period of six months. After that, Bane could do whatever he wanted. He had refused the deal at first, but now, he had to admit that his client was right. This one was no ordinary target. Batman's formidable resources and legend were now at Bane's disposal. The hero was much more valuable alive than dead.

Bane wiped the last of the cum on Batman’s lips. He knew there was plenty of time for play, but now, he needed to focus. If his calculations were correct, and they usually were, he was about to have company. The villain looked over the control panel. He had spent many hours poring over the specs, downloaded directly from the hero's impenetrable computer. Satellites followed the Batmobile, warning him of impending threats from anywhere, even high in the sky.

The sensors showed nothing, but he sensed that danger was near. Bane glanced down at one particular button, ready to press it. It was a simple unmarked button. Innocuous looking and nothing anyone would ever notice or think to touch. The villain couldn’t wait to activate it. He liked the fact that Batman didn't trust anyone. It was another characteristic they shared.

Just then, as Bane drove on the dark secluded road less than a mile from the secret entrance to the Batcave, an alarm went off. It was the radar. Bane looked at the screen then at the road. As he rounded the corner, he saw what had triggered it - a tree toppled across the road. Bane wasn’t used to the alerts and was too slow. Fortunately, the Batmobile automatically slammed on the brakes and swerved to avoid danger. The car spun out, but all was fine.

Bane pulled over. He got out of the car and looked at the tree. He circled to the passenger side and found a way around it but knew there was no time. He resisted the urge to smile, unsure if his face was being watched. Yes, his face was covered, but Bane knew that didn't matter, as his opponent could see through virtually anything. This was right on schedule. A man doesn't abduct Lois Lane then allow her to escape without knowing what happens next. Especially a man as smart as Bane.

WHOOSH!

In an instant, Bane was knocked down by a red and blue blur. The blow would've knocked out an ordinary man, which was clearly the intent. Even though he was saved by his massive muscles and the chemicals running through his veins, Bane stayed down, feigning unconsciousness. The sound of the sudden wind stopped. Through his red eye covers, Bane saw the blur slow down, revealing his magnificent new enemy.

Superman.

Chapter 2: The Belt

The villain marveled at how majestic Superman looked in person. Bane was not often surprised, but his research had focused on the hero’s abilities, not his appearance. That was a mistake. He thought Superman was a generically handsome muscleman in a clown suit. Now, he realized, the truth. He was breath-taking. Majestic.

Godlike.

After hovering for a moment, cape blowing in the breeze, Superman descended to Earth. He opened the passenger side door. Bane rolled his eyes. If he had that kind of power, he would’ve torn the door right off, but not the alien. Even in a crisis, he was respectful of his friend’s property. Of course, Bane would also rule this planet with an iron fist, but not Superman. No, he allowed others to rule him. He really was an idiot. Bane had no respect for him at all.

The hero scanned the stripped, beaten and cum-covered Batman for injury. The alien reached into the car to free him. He moved at human speed, so as not to hurt his fragile friend. With the blur now stationary, Bane just watched. As Superman bent forward, his cape fell to the side, revealing his mountainous ass inside his tight red briefs. Bane liked what he saw. Square jaw, black hair and blue eyes. The muscles, ass and bulge. Spectacular.

Seeing him up close for the first time, Bane decided that the alien was even more perfect than Batman. At 6'3" and 230-lbs of power, he was a vision of manliness in primary colors. His bright blue unitard clung to every muscle in his body. The tight red briefs beautifully cupped his manhood in front and framed ass in the back. The long red cape floated and twisted almost magically as the mightiest being on Earth carried his friend and ally in his arms.

Realizing Batman was alive and just doped up, Superman flew off with him. Bane looked around but saw no one. He was sure that the Man of Steel would return once Batman was safely placed in the butler’s care. Wayne Manor was so close and the only logical place to go. So predictable. The villain finally rose to his feet and dusted himself off. He rolled his shoulders and breathed in deeply. There was nothing else to do as he prepared to fight a god.

As he was about to exhale, Bane was in the air. His feet hovered two feet off the ground as he was held aloft by Superman's hand around his throat. The villain gripped the hero’s forearm and wrist, finding them to be impossibly solid. Immovable and unbreakable. He glanced down. The red fluttering cape caught his eye. Then the handsome face. It was stoic but clearly angry.

Superman easily held the tall, powerful villain aloft. The hero assessed the threat. He was ready for a counter attack, but none came. He scanned the dangling man. The massive muscles strained his friend’s bodysuit, but he appeared human. Superman could smell the Venom. It figured. Villains always looked for shortcuts to strength and power. The hero looked up at black mask with the white design and red eyes. A sad attempt to intimidate.

Yes, this man was large, but he was also a fraud and a cheat. Superman was not impressed. He simply couldn’t believe this steroid-infused muscleman could defeat his friend. Yes, he was strong for a human, but Batman was, well, Batman. Perhaps the past month of re-capturing all his enemies after the escape from Arkham had taken a toll after all. That could be the only excuse for losing to someone like this.

The mightiest man on the planet demanded, "What exactly did you do to Batman?"

"Nothing he did not enjoy, I assure you, Superman."

The hero squeezed Bane's throat tighter, cutting off his words. He detected an accent. Caribbean with a hint of Spanish. His super-hearing and mind narrowed the possibilities, “You’re Santa Priscan.”

Bane’s eyes flared under his mask. He replied, “Impressive. And here I thought you were the muscle and Batman was the brains. My name is Bane and I - URK!”

A tiny squeeze ended sent the message, “I didn’t ask for your life story. I asked what you did to Batman.”

The arrogant villain choked and thrashed, his black boots kicking the invulnerable body, scuffing the blue suit, but otherwise accomplishing nothing. Bane was completely outmatched, but he was not intimidated. He knew Superman wouldn't kill him, just try to scare him. Meanwhile, Superman had seen this before. He knew his reputation sometimes gave villains too much confidence.

The mighty hero said, "Just because I won't snap your neck doesn't mean I can't make you talk. The world will look very different from a mile in the sky. Especially when you're in free fall."

Bane reached for the utility belt, but his hand was easily swatted away by the infinitely faster and stronger Superman. He moved in slow motion compared with the Kryptonian.

The Man of Steel said, "This costume and belt aren’t yours to use. Let's remove the tempta - AARRGGHH!"

As soon as Superman touched the belt buckle, green energy crackled, engulfing his hand then his entire body. The hero went weak, losing his grip on Bane. The villain landed softly on his feet, crouching like a cat. The huge muscleman rose, laughing at the sight of the great Superman convulsing as he stood there, staring in shock at the green-infected veins in his hand. He had actually scanned for Kryptonite before coming in, but never considered the lead in Batman’s utility belt was hiding any.

Bane brought his hand across the surprised hero's face, casually bitchslapping the mighty alien to the ground. The hero was motionless, save for his spasms as he struggled, heaving and coughing. The villain could see the intensity of the pain. He knew Kryptonite affected Superman, but this was even better than he expected. The Man of Steel now writhed at his feet, his gyrations erotic and arousing.

The vicious villain towered over the most powerful man on Earth confidently. He kicked him onto his back then planted his tightly-laced pro wrestling boot on the iconic 'S' symbol on the hero's heaving chest. Superman could only gurgle, unable to move, his body wracked with pain. Bane leaned into it, pressing his weight onto the chiseled pecs. The hero moaned loudly.

The villain asked, "So, Superman, tell me, which hurts more? The physical pain of the Kryptonite energy blast? Or the realization that Batman has so little faith in you that he equipped his belt with a booby trap designed just for you?"

Bane stomped the hero's chest. WHOMP! He backed off, watching with mild amusement as his words sunk in. Thanks to Batman’s paranoia, he could knock Superman out. He could probably even kill him. At least for little while. Bane knew death never lasted for these heroes. But why bother? He had planned for this moment, ever since he had learned of Batman's contingency plan for the Kryptonian super-stud. His inside contact in Batman’s inner circle truly was all-knowing.

Superman staggered up. He leapt an inch off the ground, trying to escape. The mighty hero immediately fell back down onto the grass and mud beside the road. He crawled on hands and knees, desperate to move clear of the one substance on Earth that could hurt him. The hero's mind raced as he fought for focus. Did Batman really do this? Did he really carry Kryptonite in his belt and rig a booby trap?

Bane stalked his prey, arrogantly sauntering closer and closer. "Now, you wanted to know exactly what I did to Batman, Superman? Allow me to show you."

Chapter 3: The Body

Bane moved beside the weakened Superman. The arrogant superhero was paying the price for his over-confidence. A mere human had brought him to this. It was almost too much for the Kryptonian to comprehend. He gasped and tried to crawl across the country road. He needed time. Time. The Man of Steel weakly crawled, his pristine costume soiled by the ground as he tried to escape.

The malevolent muscleman followed the 6'3"/230-lbs hero. He was amused. Especially as the crawling meant Superman’s ample ass was elevated and thrust up at him. Very nice. But it was time to get to work. Bane knew he didn’t have forever. The villain drew back his foot, swinging it deep into the now weakened flesh on Superman's side. WHOOMP! The hero toppled over, rolling onto his back.

Bane brought his big boot down into Superman's midsection hard. STOMP! He circled the hero, driving his boot down onto the hero mercilessly. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The villain broke down the weakened hero's abs, chest, arms, shoulders and legs - every major muscle was attacked with casual precision that did maximum damage. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

Superman rolled on the ground. His muscles flexed and tensed inside his muddy, grass-stained blue spandex bodysuit but they wouldn’t respond. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Invulnerable no longer, the big boots broke down his muscles more and more with every strike. It was a thorough and brutal beatdown. So simple and yet so effective. And so enjoyable for Bane.

The villain bent forward and grabbed a handful of Superman’s thick black silky hair. He dragged the muscular hero up to his knees. Superman tried to fight back with a punch to the abs. THUD! It just bounced off the solid muscle wall. He tried again. THUD! No effect. Bane taunted, "Batman did not think you were much of a threat without your powers. And he was right."

Superman suddenly pushed up to his feet. The hero swung a wild fist at Bane's jaw, but the villain easily deflected it. Bane grabbed Superman by the throat. He squeezed, choking the hero as he had been choked. The suffering stud went weak in the knees as he actually struggled to breathe, something he normally didn’t worry about. The malevolent muscleman grabbed the neck with two hands then lifted Superman into the air.

As he held him aloft, Bane laughed, “How does it feel to be lifted and choked? More fun to do than have done. I imagine you’d agree.”

Superman went limp as he began to lose consciousness. Bane tossed him back to the ground. SPLAT! The impact nearly knocked the hero out. He moaned weakly as he lay on the grass, unmoving. The villain straddled his waist then bent forward and bitchslapped him awake. The hero tried to push Bane away, but he was as weak as a child. It was laughable.

Bane dragged the hero up again. He scooped Superman up across his chest then slammed him down onto the ground. WHAM! The hero went limp. The villain dragged Superman up to his feet. He began punching the ailing hero, pummeling his body with vicious body blows. POW! THUD! WHACK! The Man of Steel staggered backwards. His legs were wobbly and he only stayed up out of instinct.

As they approached the Batmobile, Bane moved in close. He scooped Superman up across his chest again. The malevolent muscleman stepped forward then bodyslammed the formerly most powerful man on Earth onto the hood of the black car. SLAM! The villain rubbed the hero’s perfect physique in the blue spandex bodysuit. He caressed it. He could not wait to ravage it.

The brute lightly slapped Superman’s face. He was savoring the rush of manhandling this alien muscleman who just minutes ago could move mountains. Few beings knew the feeling of overpowering Superman. And even fewer humans. It was intense. It was thrilling. It was erotic. And it was not to be rushed. Bane vowed not to squander it as fools like Luthor had done.

Bane owned Superman. And he aimed to keep it that way.

Chapter 4: The Bulge

Superman writhed on the hood of the Batmobile. His body was wracked with pain and his mind reeled. The malevolent muscleman caressed the blue spandex-covered body. The hero wanted to be disgusted, but for some reason, his manhood stirred and stiffened. He moaned and whimpered as he threw his head back, eyes closed and let out a soft groan. He breathed in deeply, his nose and mouth filled with a sticky smell and taste.

Bane slid his hand along the Man of Steel’s inner thigh, enjoying the show. Ecstasy was consuming the powerless stud. Bane slid up to the majestic manhood and casually fondled it. He smirked as he subtly unleashed his pheromones into the air over the hero’s face with his other hand. Poison Ivy’s technology applied to Bane’s personal musk. It had enslaved Batman and now it was entrancing the weakened Superman.

As he toyed with Superman’s bulge, Bane seductively spoke, “Poor foolish alien. Are you enjoying lying on your traitorous ally’s car? Are you questioning how he could betray you so callously? Or are you more focused on how much you’re enjoying a real man’s touch?”

“No! Take your hand off me!”

“Make me.”

Superman writhed and twisted, but he couldn’t mount any defense as his package was rubbed and squeezed. Even if he had known about the pheromone attack, he couldn’t have resisted. Bane owned him for as long as he was subdued by Kryptonite.

The villain laughed, “You really thought any human would ever trust you? You are in intense pain for one reason only. You trusted weaklings instead of ruling them. When you work for me, I will unleash your full power on my enemies. You will be my ultimate weapon, unburdened by whatever bizarre morality has made you so pathetic.”

“Shut up! Oh god! Stop! STOP!”

“No. And I don’t think you want me to stop. You are helpless. Helpless and loving it. Look at your meat grow under my touch. My, my, Superman, you are a big boy, aren’t you? Is this python between your legs why Lois Lane named you super?”

“UNH! Shut your filthy mouth! Don’t you dare say her name!”

“Your faith is misplaced. Lois Lane is mine. She sent you to me knowing this would happen. She laughed when she called me to say you were on your way. She asked me to toy with you as you’ve toyed with her all these years. No fury like a woman scorned, as they say.”

“Oh god, you’re a liar! Oh! OH! UNNNHHHH!”

Bane was a liar, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was how he gripped and squeezed the cock inside the red briefs. It was hard and throbbing. Superman was gasping and clearly aroused. The villain knew that his strategy was working. The hero had no defenses without his powers. He was as susceptible to mental attacks as he was to physical ones now. Bane pumped the shaft harder as his chemicals infected Superman’s mind.

The villain continued, “Of course, Lane’s help meant nothing without Batman’s suspicious nature. He put you here as much as her lies or my genius. I wonder how jealous he would be to know that I will be the man to finally own you. You belong to me, Superman.”

“No, no, no!”

“Yes, yes, yes. Batman wanted to own you. He fantasized about fucking you, but now that pleasure will be all mine. I own your muscles. Your mind. And your manhood. Feel my hand as I milk my property. As I take your Kryptonian cum from you. You belong to Bane. And you love it.”

“Oh god. Please stop. Please! Oh god, STOP!”

Bane forced his leather-wrapped index finger into Superman’s gaping mouth. The hero instinctively suckled on it as the malevolent muscleman worked him on the hood of the Batmobile. Without his powers, the Man of Steel was no match for the physical and mental abuse he was enduring. He didn’t understand how he could be hard at this evil man’s touch, but Bane’s voice confused him too much to figure out what was happening.

When the masked muscleman pulled out his finger, he said, “Surrender to me, Superman!”

Superman cried out, unable to form words as his cock was toyed with inside his trunks. Already, pre-cum soaked the front creating a noticeable wet mark through the two layers of spandex. The hero whimpered, but the harder that he fought to resist, the more aroused he became. Every gasping breath made him more and more horny and more and more attracted to Bane.

The villain laughed then commanded, “CUM!”

The mighty superhero uncontrollably exploded, his seed erupting from his cock head and into his blue spandex bodysuit. The Kryptonian’s cum soaked through to the red briefs, oozing between the fabric as the stain grew and grew. Superman’s powerful body convulsed violently on the car hood as he was ruthlessly milked. His pheromone-addled brain was spinning as his manhood betrayed him.

Bane continued to pump every drop until Superman was soft in his trunks. The hero collapsed, his body lying still, his power and his cum stolen from him by the malevolent muscleman. The villain let go and slid his cum-soaked glove up the handsome stud’s blue suit, leaving a trail of cum up his abs and over the famous ‘S’ shield on his chest.

As he looked at his glove, the villain got an urge. He reached down and swept up some of the hero’s cum onto his fingertip. He peeled up his full-face mask from his mouth and licked. Interesting. Superman’s seed tasted like anyone else’s, but it wasn’t anyone else’s. It was Superman’s. The villain replaced his mask and stared at the helpless hero on the hood.

Bane wondered just how much a single vial of Kryptonian cum would be worth on the open market. He didn’t know, but he intended to find out.

Chapter 5: The Battle

Superman felt shame. And pain. But he felt something else, too. He felt a spark of energy. A small one, but it was something. He felt more focused. Not fully focused, but it was something. He remained relaxed and breathed in slowly. The sickly-sweet smell remained in his nostrils. The same taste in his mouth. He was lucid enough to realize that he’d been drugged.

As Bane fixated on the value of his prize, circled Superman suddenly kicked out, hitting Bane's side. OOF! The villain stumbled away. He felt the blow. When he looked over, Superman was rolling himself off the hood to the ground. The hero dropped to hands and knees. The villain realized that not only was the hero regaining consciousness, he was regaining his strength.

Batman's charge from the belt was wearing off. Bane knew that Batman would not have spent time playing with Superman, tormenting and mocking him, but his calculations still said he should have had more time. As the hero used the Batmobile bumper to push up, the villain knew that his calculations must have been wrong. Not that it mattered. Superman was still weak. He needed to act fast.

The Man of Steel threw his 230-lbs of muscle at Bane. WHOMP! The impact was enough to send the villain staggering backwards. Superman charged in. He unleashed body shots to the chiseled torso. THUD! THUD! THUD! The hero’s hands hurt, but he was rewarded with grunts of pain. The malevolent muscleman actually moved back out of range. The hero let him. After all, time was on his side. Bane realized the same thing. He had to take action now.

As Bane moved in, the Man of Steel lashed out with a swinging punch. WHOOSH! Bane barely dodged the fist. Batman had taught the hero the basics of fighting without powers, but he was no match for a world-class wrestler and fighter like Bane. The villain lifted his knee into Superman’s abs. THUD! OOF! The hero doubled over. The malevolent muscleman slammed his elbow to the back of the alien’s head. CRACK! That dropped him fast.

Bane moved towards the Batmobile’s open passenger side door. Superman reached out and grabbed his boot. The villain tried to pull away, but the hero held tight, stopping him. Bane concentrated, increasing the supply of Venom in his body. He swelled up, gaining mass and strength. It was enough to pull his leg free. For now. He knew that no amount of chemicals would make him Superman’s equal.

The villain stepped away from the hero, leaned into the Batmobile and pressed the small green button. A noticeable green glow appeared from the headlights and taillights, engulfing the car. Bane heard a loud cry of pain. As he rose back up out of the car, he saw Superman crawling away, unable to stand again. The hero dove forward and rolled, unable to do anything else as his body was once again irradiated with the only substance on Earth that could harm him.

The hero fought for control. He had to escape. Behind the tree that he had so easily placed to stop the Batmobile. Maybe that would be far enough. Bane moved in behind him, stalking the weakened hunk. Superman’s cape was to the side, his ass was up, aimed right at the aroused assassin. Bane adjusted himself in Batman’s unitard, confident that he once again had control.

Bane called out, “Poor Superman. Just when you thought things were going your way. It isn’t just the belt. No, Batman has many plans to destroy you.”

Superman tried to ignore the words. He would happily let the villain mock him if it meant he could continue to crawl closer to safety. He suppressed his shock and anger that his friend and ally had installed some kind of Kryptonite weapon in his car. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was recovering his strength. He would deal with Batman AFTER he escaped from Bane.

The villain stretched his massively muscled body as he casually moved in on the struggling hero. His arrogance renewed; he was well-aware of what Superman was trying to do. Bane knew the range of the Kryptonite aura down to the millimeter. The hero would never reach safety. Bane grabbed the crawling hero in a reverse bearhug. He dragged him up and squeezed. Superman cried out as his body was crushed in the deadly vice.

The hero struggled, but his strength was already declining again. Bane threw him back towards the car. SPLAT! Superman writhed on the ground. Bane grabbed his boots and dragged the 6’3”/230-lbs carcass into the streaming green beams from the headlights. ARGH! Superman felt his power evaporate once again. As the hero convulsed, the villain rubbed his own growing cock in Batman’s bodysuit.

"Do you see, Superman, what Batman thinks of you? How he prepares for you as if you were a villain? The defenses in his belt, car and cave were designed to conquer and humiliate you. They are simple, but he thinks you are arrogant and stupid. And he is right. You are a fool.”

The heroic hunk struggled to keep focused, “You’ll never succeed.”

“But I already have. You are mine. And nothing will ever change that."

“Batman is safe. He’ll come for me.”

“Batman is why you are on the ground in a cum-soaked costume. The best you can hope for is that he will take my place. No matter what, you are now a slave.”

By this point, Superman barely heard Bane's taunts. He was nearly unconscious as his power evaporated, again. The hero's spandex-wrapped body shook and convulsed, his once-powerful muscles lost their pump. Bane lifted his boot and drove it down, plunging it deep into the hero's lower abdomen. THUD! OOF! The hero coughed and moaned as the heel dug into his flesh.

“You had your chance, hero, but it’s over.”

Chapter 6: The Body (Again)

Superman twitched a little, otherwise he was still as Bane surveyed his victim’s beautiful spandex-covered body. On its merits, the famous costume was ridiculous with its bright colors, red trunks over blue spandex and flowing cape. However, on Superman, the costume was the perfect wrapping for a perfect man. It was a symbol more than fabric. A symbol of truth, justice and fairness. A symbol of everything Bane opposed.

Bane casually lifted Superman up and put him back on the Batmobile hood. He flicked the yellow belt buckle, unfastening it. The ends fell to the side. The villain reached into the waistband of the tight red trunks and peeled them down slowly. The soaked briefs slid over the spandex bodysuit, down the thick legs and over the red leather boots. Superman moaned in protest, but he could not resist. He was exhausted and powerless.

The malevolent muscleman pulled the yellow belt free, draping it over the hero’s heaving chest. He folded the trunks with the cum-soaked area outside. Bane stuffed them into Superman’s gaping mouth, forcing the superhero to literally taste his defeat in the most humiliating possible. With his trunks gone, the outline of his flaccid cock was clear in the wet blue spandex.

Bane saw the hidden crotch flap. Apparently even the almighty alien needed access sometimes. The villain reached into the fabric, using both hands to pull it open. Superman’s uncut cock and large balls slid free. Very nice, but they could be better. Bane violently pulled the flaps out, tearing the fabric with ease. He ripped it all the way to the bottom of the ‘S’ shield, exposing the perfectly-aligned eight-pack abs. Delicious.

The malevolent muscleman slid his hand back to the dangling cock. He gripped it and tugged. Just like Batman, it responded on its own, the pheromones still working, even on the barely conscious Kryptonian. The massive manhood swelled up, becoming a handful of hard steel in the villain’s hand. He smiled, at least one part of Superman wasn’t powerless.

Bane searched the utility belt. He found plastic wrist restraints. Perfect. He looped one around the base of the hero’s cock and balls. He pulled it tight, forming a makeshift cock ring that would keep the mighty Man of Steel’s organ engorged. The arrogant dominator batted the oversized cock around, playing with it as the hero whimpered and gyrated.

When Superman involuntarily bucked his hips and tensed his cock, Bane laughed, “What a slut you are. I will actually enjoy having you as my sex slave even more than Batman.”

The massive muscleman slid his hand over the exposed abs. As he rubbed the chiseled midsection, he wondered how an alien could be a perfect human. It seemed impossible, but here he was. Bane raised his right fist then drove it down into the stomach. THUD! Superman coughed and crunched up, his eyes nearly popping out of his head on impact.

Bane began ruthlessly hammering the washboard abs, his fists breaking down the Kryptonite-weakened muscles. THUD! POW! THUD! Every blow softened the previously impenetrable wall of muscles. POW! THUD! POW! After mere moments, Superman was coughing and thrashing on the Batmobile hood. His bound junk flopped and flipped around with every vicious punch.

The hero tried to roll away, but there was nowhere to go. The windshield blocked him to the left and Bane blocked him on the right. He could nothing but suffer as he was cruelly abused. The villain reached in under the balls on the right leg. He grabbed the bodysuit and tore it open down the inner seam from groin to boot. Bane yanked it up and continued to tear until the bottom of the legging came out the top of the boot.

The blue spandex right leg draped off the hood as it hung loose. Bane caressed the exposed leg. Like his abs, Superman’s definition was exceptional. His leg was thick like a tree trunk but chiseled like a runner. The villain raised his fist and brought it down onto the beautiful tear drop just above the knee. WHOMP! The hero cried out and slapped the hood in pain. He tried to draw his leg back, but Bane grabbed it and held tightly.

The malevolent muscleman lifted the leg, which was bare from boot to butt. He gently rubbed the back then fired fists into the hamstring and calf. WHOMP! POW! CRUNCH! The punches were followed up with gentle caressing and he savored the moment. Bane slid his hand down the leg then in towards the hero’s virgin hole. He fingered the hole as the hero whimpered for him to stop.

Bane was impressed. Perhaps Superman was not completely mentally weak. Even with the pheromones, he was still able to say ‘no’. Too bad for him that was another societal rule the vicious villain did not honor. He wanted Superman’s ass and he would have it. He lowered the battered leg then tore open the left leg as he had the right.

Superman was now exposed from his chest to his knees. The villain dug into the utility belt once more, finding a small blade. On each side, he carefully cut along the bottom of ‘S’ shield on the hero’s chest then over under the arms. The fabric fell to the side, revealing most of the perfect pecs while leaving the shield and cape in place, held on by the shoulders and sleeves.

There simply wasn’t a flaw on the Man of Steel. Bane climbed onto the hood and mounted the hero. He firmly ran his hands over the hairy pecs then gripped them tightly at the sides. He squeezed until the helpless hunk squirmed and moaned. Even the nipples were beautifully proportioned with fully erect nubs that begged to be played with. Bane placed his thumbs over them then flicked, causing Superman to writhe under him and beg for him to stop.

Bane stared at the handsome face below him. As he toyed with the pecs, he watched the hero contort his face. His mouth opened and closed. His eyes rolled back in his head. His nostrils flared. His eyebrows rose causing his forehead to crinkle. The villain reached up and lifted the mouth on his mask. He leaned forward and kissed the perfect pawn, dominating his mouth.

Superman managed to raise his hands to push against Bane’s muscles, but it was no use. His mouth was molested by the malevolent muscleman. For his part, the villain was surprised by his lust for this alien creature. The malevolent muscleman was hard inside Batman’s bodysuit, stretching the gray fabric outward with his steel shaft.

Enough was enough. Time to finish up here and move on to the next phase.

Chapter 7: The Butt

Bane grabbed the red boots and flipped Superman over onto his stomach. He dragged the hero back, sliding him along the slick metal hood until he was halfway off. The villain released the boots, allowing the Man of Steel’s boots to touch the ground as his torso and head lay on the car. Bane admire the firm behind as he reached out and fondled it.

Superman moaned. He knew that he was in a bad position. He knew that his ass was perfectly positioned to be fucked. But there was nothing he could do about it. The Kryptonite still sapped his strength and the pheromones sapped his will. When the villain knelt behind him and forced a leather-wrapped finger inside him, the hero didn’t object. He moaned approvingly.

Bane heard it, too. “Yes, Superman. Feel me inside you. You like?”

“Oh. Yes. Oh god. Yes. Yes. Yes. Oohhhhhhhhhh.”

The villain rose and proceeded to slide his finger in deeper and deeper. The Man of Steel was completely under his control now. Unlike the belt, the car was still emitting radiation and keeping the horny hero helpless. Bane reached forward and grabbed a handful of black hair. He pulled Superman’s face up, noticing the puddle of drool on the shiny metal. The hero’s eyes rolled back in his head as he savored the penetration.

Bane said, “Beg me to fuck you, boy.”

“Oh, god. Please. Please. Fuck me. Fuck me!”

The delirious do-gooder was now completely compliant. Perfect. Bane released his hair and let his head fall to the hood. CLUNK! The malevolent muscleman withdrew his finger then reached down for the fly in Batman’s bodysuit. The stolen spandex opened up and Bane’s massive manhood flopped free. He was already hard. A few tugs and his cock was stronger than steel. Or at least stronger than the Man of Steel at this point.

Bane tightly gripped the hips and positioned his cock at the hero’s waiting hole. With a forceful thrust, he entered his enemy, nearly splitting the muscleman in two. Superman’s head rose as he cried out, shocked by the pain but thrilled by the sensation. He whimpered unintelligibly, unable to form words as he was roughly taken from behind.

The villain slid all the way in, forcing the hero to take his entire shaft. He enjoyed the firm grip of the Man of Steel’s ass on his cock, thankful that Batman had kept the Kryptonite low enough not to kill the hero. It meant his hole was still virgin-tight. Bane began to pump slowly. He took his time, knowing that this time, there would be no recovery for the hero.

Superman’s fingers clawed across the black metal of the Batmobile hood as he struggled to take the massive monster inside him. He could find nothing to grip as he gasped and writhed, his hips held firmly in place by the malevolent muscleman. As he adjusted, Superman realized what he had been missing his entire life. A man who could dominate him. A man who didn’t defer to his perfection, but instead stepped up and took control.

Bane could feel the shift in his prey. The relaxation. The shift from resistance to submission. He knew that the hero was accepting his place as bitch. Like Batman, it was aided by chemicals, but it was a start. As the villain recognized that he now owned the hunk on the hood, his cock stiffened and his balls tightened. He could feel his load building. He owned Superman.

The malevolent muscleman plowed the hero, breeding his ass harder and faster. Superman was nothing. Nothing but a bitch. A slave. A cum-dumpster for the villain. The hero whimpered, but Bane demanded more. He said, “Beg me to cum inside you. Beg for me to seed you!”

Superman obeyed, “Please, master. Cum inside me! Seed me! Please! Please!”

Bane erupted, filling the hero’s hole with his hot white cum. The villain’s body shook as he pounded the ravaged hole, draining his balls inside the defeated do-gooder. He grabbed Superman’s cape and used it to lift the hero’s torso up as he continued to pump. Superman hung limply, his muscles useless as his man-pussy leaked his master’s seed.

As the villain slowed down, Superman suddenly cried out and shook. He exploded onto the hood, his Kryptonian cum spewing forth onto the black metal. The hero surrendered his orgasm again, this time untouched and unsolicited. It was just a spontaneous response to the savage breeding of his ass by the superior muscleman.

Bane withdrew and tossed the used Superman to the ground. SPLAT! The villain turned and leaned against the Batmobile. He smirked as he looked at the ruined hero. His smooth ass cheeks rising as cum leaked down his taint onto his balls.

All-in-all, a good night’s work. Bane marveled at himself as he realized that he had conquered the World’s Finest heroes. He beat them. Jacked them. Fucked them. And now, he owned them.

Chapter 8: The Butler

Bane pushed off the car. He dragged the hero by his boots around the Batmobile. It was time to go. As he forced Superman up to put him in the car, the hero suddenly pushed Bane backwards. The villain stumbled back. He looked at the car. The headlights were still on, but he realized they weren’t green. With his red eyes and post-fuck stupor, he’d missed the change. Bane couldn’t believe it. He never made mistakes. Fucking Superman had taken his focus.

Superman dove in, leveling the stunned villain with one punch. CRACK! The malevolent muscleman went down hard on the grass. PLOP! Bane struggled to rise, but the hero was taking no chances. He kicked out, slamming his boot into the side of the villain’s head. WHACK! Bane collapsed. Superman stumbled to the tree. He tried to tear off a branch, but still lacked the strength. He was barely more than human. Instead, he grabbed one from the ground.

Using the wooden staff, the hero slipped it inside the utility belt at the back and lifted. As Bane rose, he instinctively activated his Venom. The belt tore open from the weight and flew through the air ten feet away. Bane rose quickly. He kicked backwards, slamming the heel of his boot square in Superman’s dangling manhood. CRUNCH! The Man of Steel cried out and staggered backwards into the Batmobile, his body slamming the passenger side door closed. SLAM!

Bane charged forward. He swung his fist at the hero’s square jaw. CRACK! Superman’s head snapped to the side, but he remained conscious. The villain had to shake out his hand. He knew that he was in trouble. The gorgeous hero’s perfection had distracted him unlike any other man he had ever met. He had no more Kryptonite on him, so he dove across the hood, sliding on his gray spandex ass and landing smoothly on the other side. PLOP!

The malevolent muscleman leaned into the driver’s side to reactivate the car’s defenses, but Superman had opened the passenger side door and was there to meet him. The two musclemen struggled for control. Bane had his Venom at maximum and still Superman was too much for him. The hero flung the villain backwards out of the car and onto the pavement. OOF! SPLAT!

Superman exited the car, slammed his door. He couldn’t fly, but he was able to leap over wide cars with a single bound. With a squat and a push, he jumped over the Batmobile and landed in front of Bane. He kicked back, using his bright red boot to slam the driver’s side door. SLAM! The villain kicked up, aiming for the Man of Steel’s exposed manhood, but Superman blocked it.

Bane knew it was over, barring a miracle. He had no more tricks. He cursed himself for miscalculating how long Kryptonite lasts. Superman dragged Bane up by the front of the stolen gray unitard. He said, “I think this is where we started.” The Man of Steel punched the steroid-enhanced muscleman in the face, stunning him. CRACK!

Suddenly, Superman heard the motorcycle approaching. He scanned and saw a familiar face under the black helmet. The hero tossed the villain to ground and waited, taking periodic glances down at Bane to make sure the villain was still compliant. Superman was nowhere near full strength, but he was more than Bane could handle and only getting more and more powerful with every second.

The motorcycle finally arrived. The rider wore a tight black spandex bodysuit on his lean muscled frame with a black utility belt, black motorcycle boots and short black gloves. As the rider stepped off and drew an energy weapon, Superman held up his hand and planted his boot on Bane’s chest, signaling that everything was under control.

The new arrival lowered his weapon and peeled off his helmet. Superman nodded at Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne’s butler. The Man of Steel was impressed at how fit the 50-something man looked in his spandex. It was a different look, but not a bad one. He asked, “What are you doing here? You should be with Br - Batman.”

“He is resting comfortably, sir. You appeared to need more help than he.”

“What?” Superman looked around and realized there were cameras along the road, even out here. Of course, Bruce would have security all along here. He asked, “How much did you see?”

The butler discreetly replied, “Enough. I took the liberty of bringing some clothes for you.”

“Thank you. You’re a life saver. You look good in your spandex, by the way.”

“And you look good out of yours, sir.”

As the hero raised an eyebrow, surprised by the comment, the 56-year old gentleman’s gentleman tossed a duffel bag to him. Superman removed his boot from Bane’s chest. When he unzipped and opened the bag, a green light suddenly hit him. ARGH! The Man of Steel staggered backwards, losing his hold on the shining lead-lined satchel. A glowing green rock attached to a heavy chain fell out onto the ground.

Superman looked at the butler, “What? Why?”

Alfred pulled the trigger on his expertly-aimed energy gun. Superman was too weak to dodge. The green beam hit him directly in his chest. The hero gurgled then dropped to his knees. The butler approached. He said, “I am sorry you got caught up in this, but what’s done is done. Bane warned you that you couldn’t trust anyone. I’m sorry, but that is true.”

The butler walked past Superman. He casually scooped up the chain and Kryptonite then draped it over the hero’s head. The helpless hunk couldn’t form words, but his eyes said it all. He was confused, betrayed and in agonizing pain. Alfred raised the gun and slammed the butt of it onto the stunned stud’s forehead. CRACK! Superman fell to the ground, unconscious and powerless.

Behind the butler, Bane rose. He said, “Well done, Pennyworth.”

The enraged manservant turned to the malevolent muscleman. He angrily said, “I should have let him capture you, but this is far too important to me. How dare you intentionally involve him! Do you not understand what he is? What he is capable of?”

Bane roughly grabbed Alfred by the front of his black unitard, “Do you not understand what I am? What I am capable of? You paid me to do a job. You don’t get to tell me how to do it. None of this would have happened if your briefing had been right. The Kryptonite wore off too quickly.”

“I saw. It must have been the orgasms. Perhaps they have some curative effect on him. There’s no way I could have known that. It still should not have been an issue. I gave you every advantage you would need and you still almost failed. Superman is nothing. Your target was Batman!”

“Don’t push me, Pennyworth. Superman is everything now. I’ll keep my bargain to enslave Batman, but the alien is part of this now. Accept it.” The villain threw Alfred to the ground with disgust. He dragged Superman into the Batmobile, strapping him into the passenger side, keeping the necklace secure. As he circled around, “Is Batman prepared?”

“Of course. I did my part, as I have done all along. Your sudden infatuation with Superman had better not become a problem. Batman is the entire point of this partnership. I paid you to capture and enslave him for the rest of my life. Short as it may be. He is prepared for your arrival.”

“Good. Get some sleep. My men and I will be busy in the Batcave all night. I will walk you through my plans in the morning. If, at that point, you want a refund, I am sure something can be arranged.”

Alfred bristled at the offer, knowing it was more of a threat. He was enraged, but there was nothing he could do. Better to focus on the positives. He had waited 25 years for this day. Ever since his beloved Thomas had died in that alley. He had died due to young Bruce’s childish stupidity. All his previous attempts to destroy Bruce had failed. Now, with mere months to live, he had to see this one through, because there would be no more plans.

And it was working, Superman’s presence notwithstanding. Bruce Wayne and Batman were no more. If he kept Bane focused, ‘Master Bruce’ would be nothing more than a slave to Bane for the rest of the manservant’s life. Despite the terminal diagnosis that he had recently received, the butler felt good. He finally saw that his revenge was within reach.

To be continued ... 9/15/19.