Ticklishboy30
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This story was inspired by my friend lexabro10mg's post on deviantart.
https://www.deviantart.com/lexabro10mg/art/Superman-Lex-Luthor-Foot-Domination-1235214845
Here's a link to lexabro's deviantart page.
https://www.deviantart.com/lexabro10mg
You're insane, and just asking for trouble, Superman thought as he flew toward Luthor Corp.
For some reason the cancelation sent up dozens of red flags for Clark, and he wanted an explanation. He landed on the rooftop and was about to enter through the door leading down to the offices when he thought he heard someone laughing uncontrollably.
What the heck? That sounds like Lex’s voice… but why would he be laughing like that? That’s not his usual amused chuckle—it’s more uninhibited, primal. It reminds me of how I laugh when I’m being… The Man of Steel stopped mid-thought, gears spinning rapidly in his head.
His eyes widened, he unknowingly giggled, and said outloud, “No way… That’s not possible… Lex Luthor can’t be ticklish. And if he actually is, there’s no way he’d let anyone find out. Unless… maybe he ticked off the wrong woman and she’s punishing him with tickles. Oh, there’s no way I’m not seeing what's going on for myself.”
The red-and-blue-suited hero opened the dark brown steel door and started down the metal stairs, the soles of his boots softly clanging with each step.
An alarm abruptly halted the tickling.
“What was that, ticklish boy?”
Lex panted, sweat dripping from his brow and mixing with the saliva streaming down his cheeks.
“Sounds like the rooftop door was opened without authorized access. There’s only one person I know of who has enough strength to do that… and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad Superman’s here.”
Clayton threw his head back and laughed.
“You really think that man’s gonna save you? Once he finds out you’re ticklish, he’ll probably want to join in the fun. Besides, I poked around your laptop and discovered your latest stroke of genius for weakening the muscle stud. Oh, and thanks for documenting how to activate it, Lexie.”
Crap. Clark and I are so screwed, Lex thought, hanging his head with a sigh.
Superman opened the door and stepped into his former best friend’s office. “Lex, I…”
The greeting trailed off as the costume-clad man's blue irises widened like saucers, and his mouth hung open like a cave entrance. The heavy scent of male hormones, mixed with spit and sweat made his nostrils flare.
“Nice to see you too, Supes.”
From his hiding spot, Clayton giggled at the awkward tension between the men.
“Are… you… entertaining someone special?”
Despite being heterosexual, he found something erotic about the sight of Lex's silky, goosebump-covered flesh. This proud, strong, unflinching leader of industry lay before him, so vulnerable and helpless, and he couldn't latch onto a reason for his stiffened manhood. Swallowing the lump in his throat and forcing himself to find some composure, the hero did his best to look anywhere but at Lex’s naked, hogtied body sprawled in the center of the room. It was the first time he’d ever seen another man completely unclothed—besides himself.
“Not exactly. Look, do your super-speed thing and get us out of here.”
Suddenly, something in the room disrupted the brunette’s powers. Superman scanned the space, trying to locate the source. However, without his x-ray vision he could only see what was on the exterior of the inner walls. He jumped when a disembodied voice spoke from behind him.
“The great and sexy Superman. My, my, my… you look even more delicious in person, hero boy. Just like Lexie.”
The suggestive words made both Lex and Superman blush.
“Lexie,” the hero inquired, one eyebrow arched as he looked at the blushing mogul.
“Don't even ask,” Lex growled.
The brunette shrugged and boyishly giggled. “Of course… Lexie.”
He then fixed his attention on the other man. “What have you done to my powers?” he asked.
Clayton chuckled.
“That’s courtesy of your helpless enemy’s genius mind. He figured out how to create a power dampener that has the properties of a red sun.”
Superman turned and glared at Lex, who shrugged as best he could and said, “What? A man has the right to protect himself.”
While distracted, the red-caped hero was tackled, pinned, and—faster than he’d ever care to admit—had his wrists bound behind his back. He squirmed, wriggled, and struggled, but to no avail. The aggressor slipped the boots from his feet, wrapped rope around his ankles, and in the blink of an eye, he was hogtied. He gasped in shock as the blond man lifted him off the floor and placed him beside Lex on the conference table.
“I've gotta make a trip to the boys' room. Now don't you two kiddies sneak off to the cookie jar,” Clayton said, giggling.
“This is not my finest moment,” Superman muttered under his breath as he struggled to break free. He looked at Lex with genuine concern and asked, “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he? Lex, I’m asking as your former best friend and honorary little brother.”
Lex nodded and said, “Only thing hurt is my pride.”
The men exchanged a silent nod. In that moment, they realized their bond hadn’t been completely severed by the distrust and betrayal each felt toward the other.
“We’ve gotta work together to get out of this, Lex.”
“Good point. How about a temporary truce?”
“You got it… I’d shake on it, but we’re kinda tied up.”
Superman softly giggled as Lex rolled his eyes, shook his head, and with a boyish grin, said, “You’re such a dork.”
When Clayton returned, Superman said, “You’ve sure made an interesting friend, Lex. Oh, and thanks for dragging me into this mess of yours.”
“He’s no friend of mine, and I never asked you to come help me. Not that you’ve been much help, hero.”
“If my powers weren’t blocked and I wasn’t tied up like a calf at a rodeo, I’d sooo kick your butt, Lex.”
“Puh-lease! Don’t even try to make that sound believable. Everyone knows you’re a freakin’ Boy Scout who does his best not to hurt anyone—even me.”
“You two argue like an old married couple. Maybe you should just kiss and make up.” The captor giggled, unfazed by the glares and growls from his hostages.
“What’s your name, anyway? And why are we tied up?”
“Cl…” Lex and his former friend were surprised when he stopped himself from revealing Superman’s secret identity. “Clayton. Superman—his name’s Clayton Marple. He was a scientist with LexCorp.”
“Yes… until giggly Lexie here fired me.”
“Because you’re a sex and fetish freak.”
The Kryptonian raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“What’s so freaky about him?”
“His work revolved around manipulating people's fetishes as a means of control. He was also caught rummaging through the dirty clothes bin in the closet—sniffing and stealing my underwear and socks. And by the way, I’m still pissed you took my favorite black thong, creep.”
Lex and Clayton chuckled as Superman blushed and looked away at the mention of the thong. They also noticed the bulge in the center of his costume pulse, and a small wet spot form on the shiny blue fabric.
“Superman, darling, did you know Lexiekins is quite the ticklish brute?”
Lex gasped, and Clark’s face registered pure shock.
“So far, we’ve discovered that this bald Adonis has very, very ticklish tootsies—which, by the way, are quite fun to lick—ridiculously sensitive armpits, and an even more ticklish butt.”
Lex wished the floor would swallow him whole. But when he saw the look of disgust and disbelief on his table companion’s face—well, he broke into laughter, joined by their captor’s cackling.
“D… Did you just say you… l… licked Lex’s feet?” Clark asked, his face slightly green as he fought not to embarrass himself further by hurling.
“Don’t knock it till you try it, Superman,” Clayton and Lex said in unison.
“I've always wondered how ticklish you are, Mister Man of Steel.”
The captive hero couldn't mask his reaction fast enough. When he saw the blonde man's tongue glide across his lips, he knew he'd just given him the answer.
Lex half-smiled. He already knew his former friend was far more ticklish than he was. He’d never talked about it, but once—when he and Clark were held hostage at his mansion and tortured for the vault combination—after inflicting pain didn't work, the intruders tickled the farm boy’s bare feet, reducing the strong, cool, and collected eighteen-year-old into a helpless, babbling, squealing child within minutes.
“Well… this is going to be more fun than I ever imagined.”
Clayton rubbed his hands together. His left fingers tickled Lex's bare sole, while his right fingers teased Superman's.
“Shit! Not again!” Luthor hollered, laughing like a hyena.
“C'mon, this isn't right!” Superman shrieked between uncontrollable cackles.
“That's it, my trapped Alphas—laugh for your very own tickle master.”
“This is so embarrassing,” the suited hero cried as tears streaked his cheeks.
“Welcome to my hell. So glad you could join me,” Lex exclaimed.
Their vocal reactions were so loud, their voices cracked. A wave of ultimate power and control surged through the tickler’s body, watching the iconic men helpless against the tickling as his appendage leaked inside his jeans.
“Are you ticklish here, sexy Lexie?”
The tickle assault shifted to the businessman’s ribs and hips, making him even more thankful that those weren’t among his ticklish spots.
“Well, that was anticlimactic. What a freakin' downer. I was certain you'd go nuts.”
“Sorry to disappoint. Let us go, and I might let you breathe.”
Clayton giggled as he pinched Lex’s cheeks—both facial and rear—causing him to thrash and yelp. “Sorry, sweetie, but I haven’t even gotten to why I’m here yet.”
“If you don’t let us go, I promise you, Clayton, you’ll be going to prison.”
Lex closed his eyes and shook his head. “Man, you need to work on a more frightening threat—and your delivery sucks. No offense, but you sound like a cute puppy when you need to sound like a Rottweiler or a Doberman.”
Before Superman could make a snarky comeback, five fingers dug into the soft, fleshy spots between his ribs, unleashing a flood of screechy laughter that filled the office.
“Holy shit,” Lex and Clayton exclaimed in shock.
The Kryptonian’s blue eyes bulged, he rocked like a rocking horse, and his toes scrunched, forming ridges in his creamy pale soles. Sweat poured from his bangs, which were plastered to his glistening forehead, and a mixture of his body liquid was slung everywhere.
“Eww! Would you mind keeping your snot and spit to yourself, Supes?” Lex asked, recoiling as he was splattered with the other man’s fluids.
The superhero lifted his head and in a weakened, raspy voice, pleaded, “Please! Mercy! You have no idea how much that tickles.”
Clayton’s eyes glazed over at the hero’s plea. His response was to slip his hands into the young man’s damp, sweat-slick armpit hollows.
“Nohohohoooo… Pleaheeheese… Nohohohot my arharharmpihihihits…”
Screaming laughter erupted from Superman. His eyes squeezed shut, dark, luscious locks whipping around his head as it thrashed side to side. Arms and legs yanked furiously against the unforgiving knots, while tears streamed down his cheeks.
“You’re quite the ticklish little boy, sexy,” Clayton teased. He giggled and asked, “So, are your pits naturally hairless, or do you manscape?”
Lex closed his eyes, trying to purge what he’d just learned from memory. He tried thinking of a way to free both himself and Clark, but his thoughts were scattered.
“In case you’re curious,” Clayton admitted, “there was a chemical mixed into the serum that temporarily scrambles thought processes.”
Lex opened his mouth to speak, but when his inner thighs were kneaded, any planned response was tossed into his memory’s trash bin. He bucked and writhed, laughing silently.
“Leave him alone,” Superman ordered, his voice extremely weak and breathless.
“As you wish, my captive muscle man. I’m ready to reveal the reason for this impromptu visit anyway.”
Superman’s strength was nearly depleted; all he could do was lie still, panting.
Lex sneered and asked, “You mean your goal wasn’t to trap and tickle me?”
“You’re half right, Angel cake.”
“If you don’t stop with the messed-up pet names, I’m gonna…” Lex trailed off, then shrieked with squealing laughter. “What the hell are you tickling my feet with?” His soles wrinkled each time his toes flexed and curled.
“It’s just a simple, everyday back scratcher, Lexie.”
Clayton’s eyes glittered as he smacked the Man of Steel’s costume-clad buttocks with the paddle. He jumped and squealed with delight at every whimper, yelp, and plea for mercy. What thrilled him most was the spreading dark spot—evidence of Superman’s uncontrollable arousal.
“Why, Lexie, it seems you and our adorable hero boy both enjoy a good paddling.”
“Please! Stop this. You've humiliated us enough,” Superman said softly, his cheeks flushed.
“Oh, you haven't felt humiliation yet, my helpless stud.”
When the broad part of Clayton’s warm, moist tongue slowly traveled along Superman’s soles and slipped between his animated toes, the hero looked horrified. He wriggled, softly giggling as he tried to escape the pink organ that left a trail of shiny saliva across his feet. If that wasn’t enough, his manhood was rubbed and gently pumped through his costume. To his surprise, his seed was released, soaking into the blue fabric.
“Now, I’ll show you what true evil is.”
Before he could think to speak, the back scratcher used on Lex raked along the soft, pinkish flesh of his soles. Clark had never—never—been tickled after climaxing, and he was utterly unprepared for the indescribably ticklish wave that crashed through him. His mouth gaped, unleashing the loudest, most primal cackling laughter he’d ever produced.
The two other men in the room were shell-shocked by the reaction. Superman was utterly destroyed—his body quaked and shivered, yet he remained otherwise motionless. It was as if he were experiencing momentary paralysis, and both Lex and Clayton found this very intriguing.
“I perfected the mist I was working on when you fired me. You remember, Lexie—you’d just acquired that piece of sparkly, glittery kryptonite, light pink and light purple?”
Even in his early state of recovery, Superman managed to raise his sweat-soaked head and glare at the other helpless man. “What does that kryptonite do, Lex?”
Lex cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Superman. I’m being honest—it was taken before the lab could inspect it.”
“To his credit, Superstud—the billionaire sex toy—is telling the truth. I took it upon myself to remove it when I was fired.”
“Why should I believe either of you?”
Lex looked unflinchingly into the blazing blue irises, staring a hole through him, and asked, “What other option do you have?”
“If the two of you can shut up for a minute, I’ll explain what I’ve found. This type of kryptonite actually affects humans—but only men. It functions almost like an aphrodisiac, drawing out the buried, secret sexual fantasies that lie dormant within them. I hadn’t expected you to join us, Superman, so I’m curious to see what effect it has on you.”
The lone Kryptonian noticed his physical strength was steadily declining, and his will to resist or fight back had nearly vanished. Clark couldn’t understand why. He couldn’t recall a time when red sun radiation had ever made him feel so weak—so submissive. What Clayton failed to disclose was that Lex had added a secondary agent to the invention, specifically designed to render Kryptonians as helpless as kittens, making them easy to overpower and control.
“You're not posing any threat, my charming little pet,” Clayton said, lightly tickling beneath the brunette’s chin. He chuckled as the broad-shouldered male cringed and involuntarily giggled and squeaked.
The eccentric scientist turned to his other captive and fastened a leather collar—lined with tiny, sharp needles—around the growling mogul’s neck. He smirked, visibly aroused, as Lex ceased struggling and writhed in pain from the punctures.
“What are you doing to him? You’ve got to—” Superman broke off mid-sentence, gasping for breath, too exhausted to continue.
“I’m making him weak and submissive before I use the mist.”
After a minute or two, Lex stopped resisting and lowered his head. “What is your command, Sir?” he asked in a flat, mechanical voice.
Superman stared in disbelief at the sight of a dominated Lex—and to his dismay, the image made him horny.
Clayton squealed with delight as he sprayed the mist over both men, then settled into the office chair to observe.
Something shifted inside Clark. He felt every inhibition dissolve, every barrier collapse. His body surged with long-suppressed lust. Beside him, Lex’s arousal was unmistakable.
“You two may do whatever you wish with each other,” Clayton said while releasing the defeated pair, his voice thick with anticipation.
The observer gasped as the muscle-toned men stroked and caressed each other's manhood. Their bodies drew closer, pressing and rubbing the glistening, warm, creamy flesh of their pecs together. Eyes closed, saliva was shared as quivering lips locked in a passionate kiss that elicited moans of sheer pleasure.
Clark and Lex reclined on the table. The older of the pair stripped the costume from his former buddy, smiling as he tickled, kissed, nibbled, and licked each freshly bared area of soft skin, which made the brown-haired male squirm, writhe, giggle, and squeal. Each one caressed and massaged his partner’s bare feet, both squirming and laughing when soles were stroked and toes gently bitten. The two tongues licked each foot facing it, and every toe was sucked.
Clayton panted as he unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans, and stuck his hand into Lex's favorite black thong. He was on the verge of an orgasm when Superman rolled on his back, lifted his legs in the air, and presented his hairless ass to Lex, who gripped the suspended ankles, and plunged his tongue deep into the hot, sweaty hole.
Clark’s head thrust back, revealing his bobbing Adam's apple when he shrieked, and released high-pitched giggles. His back arched, his body wriggled and writhed, his cock jumped, and precum was ejected and splattered his skin.
With no warning or lube, the bald male’s prick slid into the gaping hole with no resistance, which made his bottom howl like a wolf.
“Oh, FUCK!” Clayton exclaimed.
Sweat poured from Lex and Clark as their bodies worked in tandem. The talented top pounded his less experienced bottom, and the room filled with the enticing scent of sex.
Clark squealed and laughed when his feet were licked and gnawed.
Clayton could hold back no longer and he shook from the intensity of the climax.
The hero and villain kissed as they shot their loads at the same time. Spent, and exhausted, they lay on top of each other, unable to move.
When he recovered, Clayton removed the collar from Lex gathered his things, and slipped out of the door.
“I’d love to be a fly on the wall when those two regain consciousness and can't remember what happened to them,” he thought while driving away. He loved that the two most powerful men in Metropolis were his sex toys, at his mercy, and had no clue about the mist's other side effect, short term memory lapse.
Later that evening, after a very confusing and heated debate, Lex and Clark, agreed to sit down, together, and review the office's surveillance footage. As they watched, the more horrified they got, and by the end of the footage, the half-full bottle of bourbon that Lex shared was two shots away from being empty.
“What are we going to do, Lex?”
“Clayton has no idea of the war he's started, Clark.”
“As despicable, and underhanded as he is, I can't let you physically hurt, or kill him."
“Don't worry, in this case I'm going with a kink for a kink.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I finally have a reason to contact a leather Daddy who gave me his info. He's got his own private dungeon in his home on the outskirts of town, and is Dungeon Master of a secret gay sex club downtown. Funny, I never imagined a scenario where I thought I'd need him.”
Clark nodded, and walked out of the office. By the time he'd reached the stairwell, his powers were fully restored and once he was outside, he flew home.
https://www.deviantart.com/lexabro10mg/art/Superman-Lex-Luthor-Foot-Domination-1235214845
Here's a link to lexabro's deviantart page.
https://www.deviantart.com/lexabro10mg
You're insane, and just asking for trouble, Superman thought as he flew toward Luthor Corp.
For some reason the cancelation sent up dozens of red flags for Clark, and he wanted an explanation. He landed on the rooftop and was about to enter through the door leading down to the offices when he thought he heard someone laughing uncontrollably.
What the heck? That sounds like Lex’s voice… but why would he be laughing like that? That’s not his usual amused chuckle—it’s more uninhibited, primal. It reminds me of how I laugh when I’m being… The Man of Steel stopped mid-thought, gears spinning rapidly in his head.
His eyes widened, he unknowingly giggled, and said outloud, “No way… That’s not possible… Lex Luthor can’t be ticklish. And if he actually is, there’s no way he’d let anyone find out. Unless… maybe he ticked off the wrong woman and she’s punishing him with tickles. Oh, there’s no way I’m not seeing what's going on for myself.”
The red-and-blue-suited hero opened the dark brown steel door and started down the metal stairs, the soles of his boots softly clanging with each step.
An alarm abruptly halted the tickling.
“What was that, ticklish boy?”
Lex panted, sweat dripping from his brow and mixing with the saliva streaming down his cheeks.
“Sounds like the rooftop door was opened without authorized access. There’s only one person I know of who has enough strength to do that… and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad Superman’s here.”
Clayton threw his head back and laughed.
“You really think that man’s gonna save you? Once he finds out you’re ticklish, he’ll probably want to join in the fun. Besides, I poked around your laptop and discovered your latest stroke of genius for weakening the muscle stud. Oh, and thanks for documenting how to activate it, Lexie.”
Crap. Clark and I are so screwed, Lex thought, hanging his head with a sigh.
Superman opened the door and stepped into his former best friend’s office. “Lex, I…”
The greeting trailed off as the costume-clad man's blue irises widened like saucers, and his mouth hung open like a cave entrance. The heavy scent of male hormones, mixed with spit and sweat made his nostrils flare.
“Nice to see you too, Supes.”
From his hiding spot, Clayton giggled at the awkward tension between the men.
“Are… you… entertaining someone special?”
Despite being heterosexual, he found something erotic about the sight of Lex's silky, goosebump-covered flesh. This proud, strong, unflinching leader of industry lay before him, so vulnerable and helpless, and he couldn't latch onto a reason for his stiffened manhood. Swallowing the lump in his throat and forcing himself to find some composure, the hero did his best to look anywhere but at Lex’s naked, hogtied body sprawled in the center of the room. It was the first time he’d ever seen another man completely unclothed—besides himself.
“Not exactly. Look, do your super-speed thing and get us out of here.”
Suddenly, something in the room disrupted the brunette’s powers. Superman scanned the space, trying to locate the source. However, without his x-ray vision he could only see what was on the exterior of the inner walls. He jumped when a disembodied voice spoke from behind him.
“The great and sexy Superman. My, my, my… you look even more delicious in person, hero boy. Just like Lexie.”
The suggestive words made both Lex and Superman blush.
“Lexie,” the hero inquired, one eyebrow arched as he looked at the blushing mogul.
“Don't even ask,” Lex growled.
The brunette shrugged and boyishly giggled. “Of course… Lexie.”
He then fixed his attention on the other man. “What have you done to my powers?” he asked.
Clayton chuckled.
“That’s courtesy of your helpless enemy’s genius mind. He figured out how to create a power dampener that has the properties of a red sun.”
Superman turned and glared at Lex, who shrugged as best he could and said, “What? A man has the right to protect himself.”
While distracted, the red-caped hero was tackled, pinned, and—faster than he’d ever care to admit—had his wrists bound behind his back. He squirmed, wriggled, and struggled, but to no avail. The aggressor slipped the boots from his feet, wrapped rope around his ankles, and in the blink of an eye, he was hogtied. He gasped in shock as the blond man lifted him off the floor and placed him beside Lex on the conference table.
“I've gotta make a trip to the boys' room. Now don't you two kiddies sneak off to the cookie jar,” Clayton said, giggling.
“This is not my finest moment,” Superman muttered under his breath as he struggled to break free. He looked at Lex with genuine concern and asked, “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he? Lex, I’m asking as your former best friend and honorary little brother.”
Lex nodded and said, “Only thing hurt is my pride.”
The men exchanged a silent nod. In that moment, they realized their bond hadn’t been completely severed by the distrust and betrayal each felt toward the other.
“We’ve gotta work together to get out of this, Lex.”
“Good point. How about a temporary truce?”
“You got it… I’d shake on it, but we’re kinda tied up.”
Superman softly giggled as Lex rolled his eyes, shook his head, and with a boyish grin, said, “You’re such a dork.”
When Clayton returned, Superman said, “You’ve sure made an interesting friend, Lex. Oh, and thanks for dragging me into this mess of yours.”
“He’s no friend of mine, and I never asked you to come help me. Not that you’ve been much help, hero.”
“If my powers weren’t blocked and I wasn’t tied up like a calf at a rodeo, I’d sooo kick your butt, Lex.”
“Puh-lease! Don’t even try to make that sound believable. Everyone knows you’re a freakin’ Boy Scout who does his best not to hurt anyone—even me.”
“You two argue like an old married couple. Maybe you should just kiss and make up.” The captor giggled, unfazed by the glares and growls from his hostages.
“What’s your name, anyway? And why are we tied up?”
“Cl…” Lex and his former friend were surprised when he stopped himself from revealing Superman’s secret identity. “Clayton. Superman—his name’s Clayton Marple. He was a scientist with LexCorp.”
“Yes… until giggly Lexie here fired me.”
“Because you’re a sex and fetish freak.”
The Kryptonian raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“What’s so freaky about him?”
“His work revolved around manipulating people's fetishes as a means of control. He was also caught rummaging through the dirty clothes bin in the closet—sniffing and stealing my underwear and socks. And by the way, I’m still pissed you took my favorite black thong, creep.”
Lex and Clayton chuckled as Superman blushed and looked away at the mention of the thong. They also noticed the bulge in the center of his costume pulse, and a small wet spot form on the shiny blue fabric.
“Superman, darling, did you know Lexiekins is quite the ticklish brute?”
Lex gasped, and Clark’s face registered pure shock.
“So far, we’ve discovered that this bald Adonis has very, very ticklish tootsies—which, by the way, are quite fun to lick—ridiculously sensitive armpits, and an even more ticklish butt.”
Lex wished the floor would swallow him whole. But when he saw the look of disgust and disbelief on his table companion’s face—well, he broke into laughter, joined by their captor’s cackling.
“D… Did you just say you… l… licked Lex’s feet?” Clark asked, his face slightly green as he fought not to embarrass himself further by hurling.
“Don’t knock it till you try it, Superman,” Clayton and Lex said in unison.
“I've always wondered how ticklish you are, Mister Man of Steel.”
The captive hero couldn't mask his reaction fast enough. When he saw the blonde man's tongue glide across his lips, he knew he'd just given him the answer.
Lex half-smiled. He already knew his former friend was far more ticklish than he was. He’d never talked about it, but once—when he and Clark were held hostage at his mansion and tortured for the vault combination—after inflicting pain didn't work, the intruders tickled the farm boy’s bare feet, reducing the strong, cool, and collected eighteen-year-old into a helpless, babbling, squealing child within minutes.
“Well… this is going to be more fun than I ever imagined.”
Clayton rubbed his hands together. His left fingers tickled Lex's bare sole, while his right fingers teased Superman's.
“Shit! Not again!” Luthor hollered, laughing like a hyena.
“C'mon, this isn't right!” Superman shrieked between uncontrollable cackles.
“That's it, my trapped Alphas—laugh for your very own tickle master.”
“This is so embarrassing,” the suited hero cried as tears streaked his cheeks.
“Welcome to my hell. So glad you could join me,” Lex exclaimed.
Their vocal reactions were so loud, their voices cracked. A wave of ultimate power and control surged through the tickler’s body, watching the iconic men helpless against the tickling as his appendage leaked inside his jeans.
“Are you ticklish here, sexy Lexie?”
The tickle assault shifted to the businessman’s ribs and hips, making him even more thankful that those weren’t among his ticklish spots.
“Well, that was anticlimactic. What a freakin' downer. I was certain you'd go nuts.”
“Sorry to disappoint. Let us go, and I might let you breathe.”
Clayton giggled as he pinched Lex’s cheeks—both facial and rear—causing him to thrash and yelp. “Sorry, sweetie, but I haven’t even gotten to why I’m here yet.”
“If you don’t let us go, I promise you, Clayton, you’ll be going to prison.”
Lex closed his eyes and shook his head. “Man, you need to work on a more frightening threat—and your delivery sucks. No offense, but you sound like a cute puppy when you need to sound like a Rottweiler or a Doberman.”
Before Superman could make a snarky comeback, five fingers dug into the soft, fleshy spots between his ribs, unleashing a flood of screechy laughter that filled the office.
“Holy shit,” Lex and Clayton exclaimed in shock.
The Kryptonian’s blue eyes bulged, he rocked like a rocking horse, and his toes scrunched, forming ridges in his creamy pale soles. Sweat poured from his bangs, which were plastered to his glistening forehead, and a mixture of his body liquid was slung everywhere.
“Eww! Would you mind keeping your snot and spit to yourself, Supes?” Lex asked, recoiling as he was splattered with the other man’s fluids.
The superhero lifted his head and in a weakened, raspy voice, pleaded, “Please! Mercy! You have no idea how much that tickles.”
Clayton’s eyes glazed over at the hero’s plea. His response was to slip his hands into the young man’s damp, sweat-slick armpit hollows.
“Nohohohoooo… Pleaheeheese… Nohohohot my arharharmpihihihits…”
Screaming laughter erupted from Superman. His eyes squeezed shut, dark, luscious locks whipping around his head as it thrashed side to side. Arms and legs yanked furiously against the unforgiving knots, while tears streamed down his cheeks.
“You’re quite the ticklish little boy, sexy,” Clayton teased. He giggled and asked, “So, are your pits naturally hairless, or do you manscape?”
Lex closed his eyes, trying to purge what he’d just learned from memory. He tried thinking of a way to free both himself and Clark, but his thoughts were scattered.
“In case you’re curious,” Clayton admitted, “there was a chemical mixed into the serum that temporarily scrambles thought processes.”
Lex opened his mouth to speak, but when his inner thighs were kneaded, any planned response was tossed into his memory’s trash bin. He bucked and writhed, laughing silently.
“Leave him alone,” Superman ordered, his voice extremely weak and breathless.
“As you wish, my captive muscle man. I’m ready to reveal the reason for this impromptu visit anyway.”
Superman’s strength was nearly depleted; all he could do was lie still, panting.
Lex sneered and asked, “You mean your goal wasn’t to trap and tickle me?”
“You’re half right, Angel cake.”
“If you don’t stop with the messed-up pet names, I’m gonna…” Lex trailed off, then shrieked with squealing laughter. “What the hell are you tickling my feet with?” His soles wrinkled each time his toes flexed and curled.
“It’s just a simple, everyday back scratcher, Lexie.”
Clayton’s eyes glittered as he smacked the Man of Steel’s costume-clad buttocks with the paddle. He jumped and squealed with delight at every whimper, yelp, and plea for mercy. What thrilled him most was the spreading dark spot—evidence of Superman’s uncontrollable arousal.
“Why, Lexie, it seems you and our adorable hero boy both enjoy a good paddling.”
“Please! Stop this. You've humiliated us enough,” Superman said softly, his cheeks flushed.
“Oh, you haven't felt humiliation yet, my helpless stud.”
When the broad part of Clayton’s warm, moist tongue slowly traveled along Superman’s soles and slipped between his animated toes, the hero looked horrified. He wriggled, softly giggling as he tried to escape the pink organ that left a trail of shiny saliva across his feet. If that wasn’t enough, his manhood was rubbed and gently pumped through his costume. To his surprise, his seed was released, soaking into the blue fabric.
“Now, I’ll show you what true evil is.”
Before he could think to speak, the back scratcher used on Lex raked along the soft, pinkish flesh of his soles. Clark had never—never—been tickled after climaxing, and he was utterly unprepared for the indescribably ticklish wave that crashed through him. His mouth gaped, unleashing the loudest, most primal cackling laughter he’d ever produced.
The two other men in the room were shell-shocked by the reaction. Superman was utterly destroyed—his body quaked and shivered, yet he remained otherwise motionless. It was as if he were experiencing momentary paralysis, and both Lex and Clayton found this very intriguing.
“I perfected the mist I was working on when you fired me. You remember, Lexie—you’d just acquired that piece of sparkly, glittery kryptonite, light pink and light purple?”
Even in his early state of recovery, Superman managed to raise his sweat-soaked head and glare at the other helpless man. “What does that kryptonite do, Lex?”
Lex cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Superman. I’m being honest—it was taken before the lab could inspect it.”
“To his credit, Superstud—the billionaire sex toy—is telling the truth. I took it upon myself to remove it when I was fired.”
“Why should I believe either of you?”
Lex looked unflinchingly into the blazing blue irises, staring a hole through him, and asked, “What other option do you have?”
“If the two of you can shut up for a minute, I’ll explain what I’ve found. This type of kryptonite actually affects humans—but only men. It functions almost like an aphrodisiac, drawing out the buried, secret sexual fantasies that lie dormant within them. I hadn’t expected you to join us, Superman, so I’m curious to see what effect it has on you.”
The lone Kryptonian noticed his physical strength was steadily declining, and his will to resist or fight back had nearly vanished. Clark couldn’t understand why. He couldn’t recall a time when red sun radiation had ever made him feel so weak—so submissive. What Clayton failed to disclose was that Lex had added a secondary agent to the invention, specifically designed to render Kryptonians as helpless as kittens, making them easy to overpower and control.
“You're not posing any threat, my charming little pet,” Clayton said, lightly tickling beneath the brunette’s chin. He chuckled as the broad-shouldered male cringed and involuntarily giggled and squeaked.
The eccentric scientist turned to his other captive and fastened a leather collar—lined with tiny, sharp needles—around the growling mogul’s neck. He smirked, visibly aroused, as Lex ceased struggling and writhed in pain from the punctures.
“What are you doing to him? You’ve got to—” Superman broke off mid-sentence, gasping for breath, too exhausted to continue.
“I’m making him weak and submissive before I use the mist.”
After a minute or two, Lex stopped resisting and lowered his head. “What is your command, Sir?” he asked in a flat, mechanical voice.
Superman stared in disbelief at the sight of a dominated Lex—and to his dismay, the image made him horny.
Clayton squealed with delight as he sprayed the mist over both men, then settled into the office chair to observe.
Something shifted inside Clark. He felt every inhibition dissolve, every barrier collapse. His body surged with long-suppressed lust. Beside him, Lex’s arousal was unmistakable.
“You two may do whatever you wish with each other,” Clayton said while releasing the defeated pair, his voice thick with anticipation.
The observer gasped as the muscle-toned men stroked and caressed each other's manhood. Their bodies drew closer, pressing and rubbing the glistening, warm, creamy flesh of their pecs together. Eyes closed, saliva was shared as quivering lips locked in a passionate kiss that elicited moans of sheer pleasure.
Clark and Lex reclined on the table. The older of the pair stripped the costume from his former buddy, smiling as he tickled, kissed, nibbled, and licked each freshly bared area of soft skin, which made the brown-haired male squirm, writhe, giggle, and squeal. Each one caressed and massaged his partner’s bare feet, both squirming and laughing when soles were stroked and toes gently bitten. The two tongues licked each foot facing it, and every toe was sucked.
Clayton panted as he unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans, and stuck his hand into Lex's favorite black thong. He was on the verge of an orgasm when Superman rolled on his back, lifted his legs in the air, and presented his hairless ass to Lex, who gripped the suspended ankles, and plunged his tongue deep into the hot, sweaty hole.
Clark’s head thrust back, revealing his bobbing Adam's apple when he shrieked, and released high-pitched giggles. His back arched, his body wriggled and writhed, his cock jumped, and precum was ejected and splattered his skin.
With no warning or lube, the bald male’s prick slid into the gaping hole with no resistance, which made his bottom howl like a wolf.
“Oh, FUCK!” Clayton exclaimed.
Sweat poured from Lex and Clark as their bodies worked in tandem. The talented top pounded his less experienced bottom, and the room filled with the enticing scent of sex.
Clark squealed and laughed when his feet were licked and gnawed.
Clayton could hold back no longer and he shook from the intensity of the climax.
The hero and villain kissed as they shot their loads at the same time. Spent, and exhausted, they lay on top of each other, unable to move.
When he recovered, Clayton removed the collar from Lex gathered his things, and slipped out of the door.
“I’d love to be a fly on the wall when those two regain consciousness and can't remember what happened to them,” he thought while driving away. He loved that the two most powerful men in Metropolis were his sex toys, at his mercy, and had no clue about the mist's other side effect, short term memory lapse.
Later that evening, after a very confusing and heated debate, Lex and Clark, agreed to sit down, together, and review the office's surveillance footage. As they watched, the more horrified they got, and by the end of the footage, the half-full bottle of bourbon that Lex shared was two shots away from being empty.
“What are we going to do, Lex?”
“Clayton has no idea of the war he's started, Clark.”
“As despicable, and underhanded as he is, I can't let you physically hurt, or kill him."
“Don't worry, in this case I'm going with a kink for a kink.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I finally have a reason to contact a leather Daddy who gave me his info. He's got his own private dungeon in his home on the outskirts of town, and is Dungeon Master of a secret gay sex club downtown. Funny, I never imagined a scenario where I thought I'd need him.”
Clark nodded, and walked out of the office. By the time he'd reached the stairwell, his powers were fully restored and once he was outside, he flew home.
