Supes' Sad Enslavement Or Super Future?

Once again, poor Supes has gotten himself in a jam! Although...I'm not so sure: Given how often he seems to be captured and or subdued by mad scientists, evil aliens, or his old pal, Sexy Lexy & then used in some cruel and demeaning manner I begin to think that he has an itch that only our friend "peril" can scratch.... Sorta like the first time young Clark snuck into Farmer Jones melon patch one moonlit night. Waking up with a hard-on and a mighty taste for watermelon, Clark had pulled on a pair of his faded blue overalls and nothing else and then padded out barefoot into the warm summer night. As the youth stole across the fields he headed straight for Tom and Dickie's Pop's place, knowing that Farmer Jones' melons were the sweetest tasting and also the best for other, more "recreational" uses as well...His heart beat a little faster and he quickened his pace as he pondered these things. Just as the super lad was about to purloin one of the prized pods, a bright flashlight beam blinded him, and two rough hands shoved Clark to the ground, quickly binding his wrists behind his broad back and then hog-tying his bare feet to his pinioned wrists. Quicker than shit, Clark was a half-naked package of wriggling boy-flesh being hauled off on the shoulders of big Dickie and Tommy Jones! Before he could protest, Clark was thrown in the back of the boys old Ford pick-up, & a good-sized apple was shoved into Clarks large, full-lipped mouth, secured with a red bandana from Tommy's back pocket, thus completing the picture of young Clark Kent as a fatted pig, trussed, & ready for roasting!!! Oddly, Clark's strong heart beat faster and faster as he thought on how he had been captured and deftly rendered helpless by these two neighbor boys. Something kept him from using his super strength to escape their trap...In fact, his baggy overalls were now tented out and bulging & his now obvious erection throbbed and bobbed as the truck bumped along towards the old barn on the back lot of the Jones' Farm. Clark had never felt so hard before: painfully hard! Just then, Dickie Jones' face poked through the sliding window in the back of the truck's cab; the moonlight turning his boyish grin into and evil mask as he watched the helpless Clark bounce around in the hay-strewn bed of the pick-up truck. "Will ya lookee there, Tommy! Little Clarkie Kent has got his-self a big ole somethin' goin on in 'ee's over-hauls!!!" Dickie leered over his shoulder, clearly enjoying the sight of the bound captive under his control. "Looks like maybe he got himself a baby weasel stuck in there, Tommy an maybe it's trying ta get out afore the Fall!!!" Finally the truck rolled to a stop inside the huge old barn: the dark swallowing both captive and captors alike in the warm dark space. The musky smell of straw, feed, and large animals only added to Clark's mounting sense of excitement and suspense, as if he was just another farm animal needing to be milked, or fed...or ridden. He closed his eyes, tasting the sweet juice of the apple stuffed in his mouth, and relaxed into his bonds, waiting for the two farm boys to drag him from the bed of the truck and wondering with anticipation what lay in store for him this night...Young Calrk Kent did not have to wait long... You see, dear reader? Doesn't it seem obvious to one and all that Clark's "youthful experiences" might have left the the man of steel with a small taste for "the unusual" when it came to these masculine couplings? Certainly when young Clark got caught and then strung up by the good farmers two husky sons Dickie and Tommy, in the hayloft, he could have snapped those thick ropes holding him prisoner like sewing thread, but did he? Or did those two pairs of rough, farmer-boy hands ravishing Clark's smooth white body, rubbing his tender pink nipples into hardness, hold a deeper charm or some hypnotic sway over him? Maybe that's why young Clark kept sneaking over there after that night, & why Dickie and Tommy kept such a close watch for anyone prowling around the barnyard! No doubt Farmer Jones and his aged wife just rolled over and went back to sleep when those "funny noises" came from the barn every now and again. The old couple could always count on their strapping young sons to dispense the proper punishment to any varmints caught in the henhouse or hooligans trespassing on their land. So it goes with these hero-types...always seeking, and usually finding, perilous situations filled with traps, ropes, and diabolical bodily torments of an often pleasurable sort! Best Regards, -Christuffer