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Superboy and the Crème
Superboy and the Doctor
|Superboy had come to Kala Labs for help with his critical weakness:
the pain, weakness, and potentially death, that came from exposure to
that extraterrestrial isotope, kryptonite. He was referred to Doctor
Schlug, one of Kala Labs' biochemists who had already done some
research on using kryptonite radiation in human medical treatments.
Although kryptonite radiation was basically harmless to terrestrial
life forms, Schlug thought that it may have some effect on cancerous
cells. Although his work led to no revolutionary treatment, he had
acquired a justifiable reputation as one of the leading authorities
on kryptonite and its effects.
The muscular youth arrived at 9:00 am on the dot for his first appointment with Schlug. The scientist was surprised to hear a rapping on the window of his 4th-floor office. He went to the window where he saw Superboy floating in mid air. He opened the window.
Schlug: Why Superboy! Why don't you go through reception?
Superboy: Excuse me Dr Schlug, I hope this isn't a problem. I find it more expedient to avoid the crowds in lobbies and the like. It's easier on everyone if I just arrive directly.
Schlug: Of course, I understand. Well… come in.
Superboy: I'm very pleased to meet you in person, Doctor Schlug. I have of course been following your research through your various publications, and I must compliment you on your work. I know I'm in good hands.
Schlug: I hope I can live up to your high praise, young man.
Schlug blushed at the compliment, or maybe it was at the presence of the blue-eyed god, his perfect young physique wrapped in the skin- tight blue and red spandex. Schlug himself would never have this effect on anyone, male or female. At the age of 40 he hadn't let himself go, he had never been there in the first place. His most noticable characteristic, beyond his dark balding hair and thick beard and mustache, was his weight. Schlug was a good 100 pounds overweight, and his soft hairy flesh was a marked contrast to the smooth alabaster firmness of the young superhero in front of him.
They discussed the reports Schlug had gathered on the effects of kryptonite on the hero, with Superboy filling in the gaps in the record. They sat down at Schlug's desk and discussed a variety of techniques likely to provide protection from kryptonite's debilitating effects. Schlug explained that in order to begin work on concrete solutions, he would need to have Superboy present in his lab virtually non stop.
Superboy: I'm afraid that's impossible, Doctor Schlug. Your research is important to me, but it is likely to last weeks, months, even years, and Superboy cannot take a leave of absence from protecting Metropolis.
Schlug: Well, I understand your point, but a terrestrial white rat is just not going to be an effective substitute for the subject in this particular case.
Superboy: There must be some solution, Doctor, some way of testing your formulas?
Schlug: In a human trial, I would use blood cells as an easy source of biological material. But I don't think I'd have much luck getting a hypodermic needle through that Kryptonian hide of yours.
As he spoke, he touched the back of Superboy's hand. It certainly felt human, it was soft and warm, but he knew that nothing yet tried could even scratch the invulnerable hero.
Superboy: I guess I could provide you with an alternative cell source.
Schlug: Mucous membrane scrapings from your mouth lining? Perhaps, but I don't think you could provide the quantity of material needed for a significant testing program.
Superboy: Oh… Well… maybe there must be a way. The only other source I can imagine is, um… well, semen. Would that do?
Schlug: I suppose it just might. Could you provide it regularly?
Superboy: How about once a week?
Schlug: I don't know about that. It depends on the quantity.
Superboy: I'm not sure myself. I have only had what they call nocturnal emissions.
Schlug: A young man like you, you never masturbate?
Superboy: Oh no, sir. I couldn't do that! I wouldn't be right. I must not think about my pleasure. I have a mission to protect and defend my adopted home.
Schlug: That's very noble of you, Superboy, but I'm sure most people would understand that a hero who has chosen celibacy needs an occasional release.
Superboy: Now, Doctor Schlug, I will be happy to cooperate with you by… doing that thing… but only as part of your scientific project.
Schlug: It's your choice, of course, Superboy. I think I'll be ready for the first examinations in a few days. Can you come back on Thursday?
They made their appointment, Superboy shook the jelly-bellied doctor's hand and in a flash of blue and red, he flew out the window to his next superhero mission.
On Thursday at the appointed time, Superboy arrived at the window.
Superboy: I have brought you a dossier of all the records I have on Kryptonian biology. Don't worry, I have translated them into English.
Schlug: That will be a great help for me. Thank you very much. Now, perhaps we should get down to business?
Superboy: Do you have a room or something where I could… do this…
Schlug: I'm afraid not. The fertility lab is expanding and there are no examination rooms available. All I can offer is my office and lab here. But don't worry, I'll wait in my office next door. Here's the beaker for the sample.
Superboy took the pyrex beaker, turned his back, unbuckled his yellow belt and pulled out his heavy cock. Although Schlug was in his office, he could not help but hear the moans of the excited youth in the adjoining lab. Although it was Superboy's first attempt at masturbation, it seemed as if he had already got the hang of it. Moreover, he seemed to be enjoying it. After about fifteen minutes of this, Schlug heard a roar and a crash of equipment.
He ran out to the lab, and saw Superboy scrambling to stow his still stiff cock. At his feet were the fragments of the glass beaker, and in the corner of the lab, the tables and equipment had been overturned and pushed against the wall.
Superboy: I guess I got carried away a bit and lost control of my superbreath. And I'm afraid I held the beaker a little too tight. Don't worry, I'll clean this up in a flash.
Schlug: Don't worry about…
Before Schlug could finish his sentence, Superboy had cleaned up the mess he had made with his explosive groan. He turned, blushing, to the scientist.
Superboy: I'm terribly sorry, Doctor. I can come tomorrow if you're willing to take the risk of having me here again. I'll try to watch out…
Schlug: Of course, and I'll see what I can do to make it safer for everyone.
Schlug couldn't help but look at Superboy's trunks, where the damp stain from his ejaculation was still visible on the tight red fabric. Superboy noticed the scientist's look, and turned to the mirror on the wall. With a short blast of his heat vision, he was able to dry off his trunks. Still embarrassed, he went so far as to take the garbage bag with him so as to leave as few traces as possible of the incident that marked his first attempt at masturbation.
The next day he arrived again. This time Schlug had waiting for him a new beaker, made of high-grade titanium alloy. It would of course not stand up to any real effort on the part of Superboy to destroy it, but it would resist any momentary spasm better than the pyrex beaker. Again, after about 15 minutes of moans and groans, Superboy ejaculated, and this time avoided any damage to the lab.
He bashfully handed the brimming beaker to Dr Schlug and flew out the window with a "See you next week"…
This scenario was played out week after week. For the longest time Superboy never even referred to Schlug's research. The scientist understood that this weekly excuse to masturbate was a godsend for the young superhero, and that the results of the research Schlug was supposed to be doing came a distant second to the process. Superboy did notice that Schlug seemed to be losing weight, and complimented him.
Schlug: Well, it is hard seeing an athletic physique like yours every week and not feel motivated to make an effort.
Superboy: I'll have them send you a copy of my 'Superboy Superworkout' video, all profits donated to Jerry's Kids.
Schlug: Uh, thanks. That would be… nice.
Superboy: So, Dr. Schlug, are you making any headway in your research?
Schlug: Yes, some very promising leads.
Superboy: That's good. Well, I guess I should get that sample for you now.
This very limited curiosity did inevitably grow in the following weeks. Superboy began to enquire as to the details of the treatments attempted by Schlug. Schlug was evasive, and although the hero always remained respectful, he became more and more insistent. Finally Schlug told him he would have a treatment ready to try in vivo the following week.
An excited and nervous Superboy arrived even more promptly than usual, if that were possible. The first thing he noticed on arrival was a small grey metal box on the table in the center of the room.
Superboy: Is that…
Schlug: Yes, it is kryptonite, but you needn't worry. It's safely in it's lead box now and it's really only a small amount, and if all goes well, it will be perfectly harmless anyway thanks to the treatment.
Superboy: Gosh, and just what is this treatment?
Schlug: You know that various compounds have the effect of blocking certain types of radiation.
Superboy: Like the suncreen in suntan lotions?
Schlug: Exactly. I believe I have discovered a combination of compounds that will block kryptonite radiation. It is not a perfect solution, but it should provide you adequate protection from most sources of K-rays. Indeed, when I look at the records, I believe that in every documented case of K-ray exposure, this treatment would have saved you.
Superboy: That's great. So what's next?
Schlug: As I told you last week, the only way to know if it really works it to try it out on you. My simulations indicate that you can tolerate an exposure of up to 5% surface area, which means that we won't have to worry about your eyes, your nostrils, your mouth when open. But it does mean that the rest of your body will have to be covered.
Superboy: In suntan lotion?
Schlug: Ha, ha. Well, yes, in a way. For the future, I believe it will be possible to incorporate the compound into the fabric of your suit. And I've already mixed it in this hair gel, which shouldn't be a problem since you apparently already use some sort of product there. We'll have to see about the remaining exposed skin. In any case, for these tests and until we have a suit you can use, the compound will indeed have to be applied directly to your skin, well, like suntan lotion.
Superboy: My skin? You mean you want me to be…
Schlug: Um, naked. Yes, if you don't mind. Here's the hair gel, you can apply it now, and then I'll ask you to remove your suit.
Superboy took the jar of pale green gel and applied it to his hair. He wiped his hands, observed that the gel was hard to remove, and slowly unbuckled his belt. Schlug held his breath as the muscleboy pulled off his top and cape, exposing his broad thick pecs, his pert pink nipples, his 6-pack abs. He bit his lip as Superboy pulled down his trunks and tights, exposing his thick cock, heavy balls, his smooth round buttocks, his powerful thighs and calves. He removed his boots and finished pulling off the tights and trunks, and stood in his magnificent nudity before the scientist.
Schlug handed him the jar of anti-K creme, like the gel, tinged a pale green. He began applying the cloying creme to his chest, his arms and shoulders. He moved down to his flat hard belly, coated his groin, his cock and balls. Schlug noted the involontary reaction of the hero's cock to the stimulation. Superboy quickly applied the creme to his buttocks, then bent to do his legs and feet.
Superboy: I guess that all that's left is my back. Could you apply the creme there, Doctor Schlug?
Schlug: Of course. Let me take off my coat and shirt. The creme stains, unfortunately. A bug we'll work out I'm sure.
The scientist removed his coat and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his hairy torso, leaving only his tan slacks tight over his big thighs and ass. Since his work with Superboy had began, he had by no means become buff, but he did have the bulk. Superboy had already observed the lose of weight, but now he could appreciate the increase in muscle mass. From an obese slob, the Doctor had become a real muscle bear. He was not yet hard, and he still carried a good deal of excess fat, but he was beginning to look the powerlifter part.
Superboy: Say, looks like you've been using my fitness method.
Schlug: Uh, yes. Thanks so much for the cassette. Very useful. Anyway, please turn so I can cover your back.
Schlug put on his latex examination gloves and began to apply the creme to the youth's broad back. He slowly worked his way down to the small of the back and applied a bit of pressure on the spine just above his splendid ass cheeks. Superboy moaned.
Schlug: Surely I'm not hurting you?
Superboy: No, it feels good, that's all. And the creme seems warm.
Schlug: Yes, I incorporated some products to help it penetrate and adhere to the skin so you would not have to re-apply it constantly. Could you bend over? I believe you missed some exposed areas on your buttocks.
The naked superhero bent forward exposing his pink asshole. Schlug gently applied the creme to the ass crack and hole. From the trembling of the youth's cheeks, Schlug determined that it was a not unpleasurable experience for him.
Schlug explained that he wanted to test the heat resistance of the creme and hit a switch that turned on four heat lamps in the upper corners of the lab. He then went to take the lead casket with the kryptonite. He saw Superboy's eyes widen slightly.
Schlug: Don't worry. The creme should protect you, and in any case I will be here to close the box. But I do have a slight worry in case the creme should not work. You might faint and hurt yourself. I'd prefer it if you were in a safe position. Perhaps you could brace yourself against those equipment rigs?
Superboy: Like this?
Superboy spread his arms wide against the vertical supports, spreading his wide lats. Schlug put down the lead box and approached.
Schlug: Yes, that should be fine. Well, of course, if you did faint, you wouldn't be able to hold yourself up. I'd feel better about this if you were more firmly bolstered.
Superboy: Of course, Doctor. I do hope the creme works though.
Schlug: It should, it should. But just in case, let me use these rigging straps to attach your arms in place.
Naked, his alabaster skin covered with the moist pale green creme, his weight balanced on one foot, his hips gently tilted, letting his heavy cock and ball fall over his thick thigh, his arms stretched and bound to the metal uprights, Superboy was a pleasing sight. But Schlug had no time to admire the picture; it was time for the serious business of the days. Schlug picked up the box and turned to the bound youth. He carefully and slowly opened the box, delicately holding the top and tilting it to expose the Kryptonian to the greenish glow. Superboy's breathing accelerated from fear and anticipation: if the treatment failed, he would be exposed to the excruciating pain of the deadly radiation, if only for a moment; if it succeeded, he would be protected from his greatest weakness. In an instant he would know which it would be.
Schlug turned with the open lead casket. Superboy saw the glowing green stone, and felt the burning on his skin penetrate his flesh. He felt nauseous and dizzy, and the room quickly started going black. He slumped, held up only by the strapping on his wrists.
Schlug quickly closed the box and rushed to the suffering superhero.
Schlug: I'm so sorry, Superboy. Don't worry, I'm sure we'll come up with a solution. Are you feeling alright?
Superboy: Uhhh… not quite…. still dizzy… but I'll be OK.
Schlug: Turns out it was the right idea to strap you up. The K-rays effect should soon be over. You were only exposed for an instant.
Superboy: Yes, I feel fine now, I think.
Schlug: Good, why don't you just rip off those straps and we'll do some tests.
Superboy was puzzled at Schlug not removing the straps himself, but supposed that the scientist was in a hurry to find out what went wrong. He pulled his arms in and was surprised to find resistance. He pulled harder. Soon he was struggling at restraints that he should have been able to break with as much effort as a human being pulling a seed from a dandelion.
Superboy: What is going on?! Has the kryptonite continued to affect me?!! What are these straps made of?!!
Schlug: Hmmm…. There's absolutely nothing extraordinary about the straps. Why dont you pull a bit harder.
Schlug watched the naked muscleboy flex his beautiful shoulders and chest as he strained against the straps.
Schlug: Perhaps you could burn them off with your heat vision?
Superboy squinted and frowned but was unable to generate so much as a spark.
Superboy: What have you done!?
Schlug: Exactly what I promised. Well, almost exactly. My creme is working perfectly well, not to block K-rays, but to block the key wavelengths in solar radiation. Thanks to my preparatory research, I discovered the ill-hidden secret that the source of your superpowers is the radiation of our yellow sun. My creme is as you so aptly described it, a sunblock. The shock of the kryptonite drained you and thanks to my lovely green creme, you are unable to recycle your powers. These sunlamps are pumping out some heat, but mostly red-sun type radiation just to make sure that you remain as you are now. A splendid boy, of course, and certainly very strong, but in no way a super boy.
Superboy: You fiend! Why are you doing this?
Schlug: You have admired my physical transformation. Do you really think your "'Superboy Superworkout' video, all profits donated to Jerry's Kids" is worth more than the magnetic tape it's recorded on? Do you think a man who has been fat and out of shape all his life can change so much in a matter of months?
Superboy: How then?
Schlug: Thanks to you, my young friend. I quickly realized when I exposed your semen to K-rays that it would be possible to intervene on the sample cells in their weakened form. I was able to meld the nucleii of your cells and mine then reinject them in my bloodstream. My goal initial was simply to improve my appearance. Your morphology obviously has nothing to do with any resistance-induced development; no Nordictrak is going to give a Kryptonian legs like yours. It obviously is the result of your genetic programming.
As you can see, it has been working. The presence of the proteins and enzymes generated by your DNA in my bloodstream has been slowly but surely transforming my physique.
Superboy: But why do this to me?
Schlug: Because once started down this road, I wanted to go all the way. I am far from achieving my physical ideal. In any case, the effects are temporary, and until I find another solution, I need regular supplies of fresh cells from you. You were most generous for longer than I could have hoped, but even you began to expect results. Would you have continued to make your weekly donations if I had told you the truth?
Superboy: Of course not. I came here for your research on kryptonite radiation!
Schlug: As I thought. Now have a look at this.
Schlug turned on the video monitors on the wall. He had made a tape showing his own transformation, the fat melting away, the underlying muscles growing. The end of the tape showed him in skimpy briefs showing off his big package and his powerful, heavy physique. He then reversed the tape, and Superboy saw his tormentor turning back in the obese nothing he had first met.
Schlug: Can I accept this? Who could? I cannot, in any case. I need your cooperation. And when I discovered the unexpected side effect of this treatment, I knew you would do everything in your power to stop me.
Superboy: Side effect?
Schlug reached for the titanium alloy beaker used for the donations. He wrapped his hand around it and without blinking, crushed it.
Schlug: I was looking for the morphological effects of your Kryptonian biochemistry. The bonus is that I have also gained superstrength. In fact, all of your superpowers.
Superboy: I will never cooperate, Schlug!
Schlug: We will see about that in good time. For now, we're going to make a little trip.
Schlug removed a bag from a cupboard and approached the naked hero. When he was within striking distance, Superboy hauled himself up by the straps binding his arms and gave a powerful kick to the big belly of his persecutor. Nothing!
Schlug: I may not yet be as strong as you are… as you were, Superboy, but I have more than enough strength to deal with you in your oh too human condition.
Schlug gave a rough punch to Superboy's firm abs. The youth gasped. Schlug quickly removed a roll of duct tape from the bag, bound the hero's legs, tore off the wrist bindings and manhandled the naked Superboy until he had taped his arms to his sides and had gagged him. In a flash he had the struggling youth under his arm and was flying out the open window.
Flying at high speed, they soon arrived at the isolated dairy farm in the hills he had used his life savings to buy and equip with a private laboratory. There he took the bound hero to the cow barn and placed him in a stall, shackling his hands and feet to either side. In a flash Schlug flew back to his lab. The contact with the creme from Superboy's skin had weakened him somewhat, but he would soon wash it off. In the lab he gathered the personal items there, including Superboy's costume, and returned to the farm, after posting a letter of resignation from the lab. Ernest Schlug would now be a reclusive scientist. He had informed his small circle of friends that he had sold several patents to a major firm and could thus retire and conduct his own research in a more tranquil setting.
He checked on his young guest. He found him still straining at his chains in the cow stall.
Schlug: You know, Superboy, this creme of yours is really annoying. All icky- sticky. Ugh!
Superboy: You sick creep!
Schlug had brought electric clippers with him, and pulled up a stool to stand above the naked youth. He began clipping the drained superhero's thick black hair until his skull was smooth. While at it, he decided to make him smooth all over, and trimmed his armpits and pubic hair. The howling of the protecting superhero didn't bother him. He rather enjoyed it.
Now that the youth was smooth, it was time to get him clean. The biochemist fetched the lead box containing his kryptonite sample. Once again he exposed the young Kryptonian to its harmful rays, taking care to stand behind the lead of the container. Superboy writhed in pain. Before he could recover from the exposure, Schlug released him from his restraints and let him slump to his knees. Schlug went to the wall, unhooked the nozzle of the high-pressure water jet used for cleaning the stalls, and aimed the jet straight at the naked youth. Superboy tried to stand but was knocked back down by the force of the water. Schlug turned around him to clean him from every angle. For good measure, he gave him another shot of K-rays to keep him incapacitated now that the sunblock had been removed. It was time for a less cloying application for the sunblock.
Schlug lifted the smooth clean youth, still groggy from the pummelling of the jet and the lingering effects of the K-rays and attached him again upright within the stall. At superspeed he applied a coat of green liquid latex impregnated with the yellow-sun radiation blocking compounds. He covered Superboy's entire body except for his face in the liquid plastic that soon hardened to a flexible skin-tight coating. Now that he was shaved, it could be applied to his entire body, providing total isolation from the superpower-giving rays of our sun. The muscleboy was still chained by his hands and feet and would be unable to remove himself from these restraints however much he struggled.
Superboy: Do what you want with me! I will not cooperate with your disgusting plans!
Schlug: I don't need your cooperation, actually. In fact, I wouldn't mind getting some of that muscle juice of yours right now.
Superboy: I'm not giving you anything!
Schlug: Do you remember that file you brought to me when you came for your first donation?
Superboy may have been reduced to mere human strength, he may have lost his power of flight, but he retained his extraordinary mental abilities. He saw in his minds eye every single page of the dossier he had given to Schlug. He knew immediately what Schlug planned to do.
Schlug: I believe it's something called 'kan-ta-louf'?
Superboy was born a Kryptonian. On Ancient Krypton, the primitive populations practiced a form of eugenics. Intercourse was forbidden to any but a selected few, and sexual desire was repressed. For those chosen to reproduce, the ability to generate large quantities of gametes was a great advantage. Over the generations, the entire population acquired by natural selections this trait, called 'kan-ta- louf'. At the equivalent Earth age of 50 for men, and 25 for women, the reproductive cycle would be stimulated. In ancient times, it allowed men to copulate with large numbers of women. For women it allowed multiple births and rapid pregnancy. Later, with the development of technology, artificial insemination and in vitro fertilization multiplied the possibilities of this physiological characteristic. In the post industrial world of Krypton for the last centuries before its destruction, the dangers of eugenics due to the increased risk of pandemics became apparent. After a period of disease and turmoil known as the Religious Revolution, the practice of eugenics was abolished. Sexual practice became free and the renewed variety of the gene pool reduced the risk of pandemics in the populous cities of Krypton. The extraordinary reproductive potential of kan-ta-louf remained a memory, but one that no-one on modern Krypton was keen to relive. Elaborate social taboos were developed to avoid setting off the kan-ta-louf mechanism.
Nonetheless, the reflex remained, and thanks to Superboy's thoroughness, Schlug knew about it. Moreover, he knew how to induce it. Schlug had already stripped to his briefs: Superboy eyed his bulge.
Superboy: So… you're going to fuck me…
Schlug: Well, let's say that I am going to provide the necessary stimulation to induce kan-tal-ouf.
Anal stimulation was of course the secret to set off the kan-tal-ouf response. It explained among other reasons the strict taboo against homosexuality among Kryptonians. Any inducement to anal sex increased the risk of an unprogrammed eugenics response.
Schlug pulled down his briefs. He had been quite modestly endowed before his treatments, but he had had the pleasant surprise of seeing an increase in size and girth of his cock and balls. He was no Jeff Stryker, but he should have quite enough to stimulate the bound hero.
Schlug released Superboy from his restraints. With his superstrength, he easily carried the struggling youth to the sawhorse he had set up and bound him bent over it, his ass exposed, his cock hanging below the horizontal bar. To prevent the hero from trying to tear off the latex coating, Schlug tied his wrists to the legs of the sawhorse, then poked a hole through the latex coating the youth's ass. He lubricated his cock, for his goal was not to punish Superboy. As he was almost always erect upon seeing Superboy, he didn't have to wait at all to begin slowly inserting his tool in the superhero's virgin ass. Despite Schlug's attempts to be gentle, Superboy began to scream, then moan as his tormentor's cock reached the kan-tah-louf stimulus zone. Despite himself Superboy found his cock stiffen and grow, stretching then tearing the latex coating. His balls bounced with excitement. After 10 minutes of ass work, he began to flex his ass cheeks, anxious to cum. Feeling the desire of his musclestud prisoner, however it had been induced, brought Schlug to orgasm. He withdrew, leaving the youth wriggling with his engorged cock and balls bouncing heavily.
Superboy: Please, help me cum. Can't stand it.
Schlug: You want me to jerk you off?
Superboy: Whatever... Want it… to stop.
Schlug: I chose to set up shop in a dairy farm for a very good reason, young man.
Schlug left the hero with his muscular latex-coated frame bent over the sawhorse, his cock enlarged, throbbing, begging for release. The biochemist turned "dairy farmer" pulled down the hose from the milking machine. He put the end over Superboy's giant cock and turned on the machine. He returned to work the youth's ass. Soon the throbbing suction of the milking machine set off a massive ejaculation. The vacuum sucked the cum to the waiting glass jar for use by Schlug. Superboy moaned. He fed the drained youth liquid protein - thankfully Kryptonians had an innate blockage against even contemplating any form of suicide so there was no hunger strike to fear - and shackled him in place in his cow stall.
Schlug dressed and flew back to the city. He had a new body thanks to Superboy and he liked to use it, so he head for the top sauna in town. He was far from a gymbody pretty boy, but there were plenty of men of all ages who liked the beefy, hairy, bearded, mature look of a powerful man like Schlug. Among them were many muscular young men, but none matched the model of his ideal, who was at that very moment pulling at his shackles back on the farm. Superboy would never really be his, yet he was the one Schlug wanted. If he couldn't have Superboy's body and soul, he would make himself into Superboy. To do so, he would need plenty of juice.
In the following days he continued to milk the youth. The kan-tah- louf stimulus had kicked in with great intensity and despite himself Superboy became sexually insatiable. Schlug could not help fucking him, which made the stimulus response even stronger. Superboy's balls were constantly swollen with the immense quantities of semen his body had been programmed to produce. By the time Schlug hooked him up to the milking machine, he was already dribbling precum. Whereas previously Schlug had to be careful to be economical with the juice, now it was practically flowing from the taps. Turn on the milking machine, stimulate Superboy's ass, and out it flowed.
The general stimulation of hormone release in the Kryptonian's body had an interesting side effect. The incidental release of female hormones stimulated production of milk in his breast tissue, and the latex over his firm pecs swelled as the lactation began. The references in the literature were unclear, but Schlug believed that this male milk was used to develop the strength and size of ancient Krypton's warriors. Here he saw the phenomenon before his eyes: the youth's boy breasts grew and he experienced increasing discomfort. Eventually the latex coating began to split open and milk began to dribble out the engorged nipples. Schlug took to pumping Superboy's breasts as well as his cock. The youth would be in danger of permanent injury without regular milking, and the liquid provided an interesting dietary supplement which enhanced the superbear's own growth.
This new supplement encouraged him to accelerate his own treatments. He did grow more muscular, his superstrength increased, he flew faster. But his fundamental morphology remained that of a powerlifting musclebear rather than the smooth muscleboy he adored. He realized that no amount of Kryptonian gene therapy would transform him into his ideal, for the raw material was not there. The permanently-shackled Superboy retreated into a mute withdrawn state. After nearly three months, a desperate routine had been established: Schlug, now undoubtedly the most powerful man on Earth, remained lonely and desperate; Superboy was humiliated, periodically raped by by his hairy tormentor, hooked up to a milking machine, living life in a latex skin, bound in a stall in a cow barn, begging his enemy to milk his swollen breasts, begging to cum, to let him release the pressure from his swollen groin and balls.
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