Part 2

As Christina stalked off to her infamous chambers, Superman slumped, groaning and in agony against the wall. His vision blurred and his limbs felt as though they had been taken over by the Kryptonite. He had lost all control of himself, and he was about to have that loss extended to a complete surrender. He fell sideways and crumpled onto the floor staring upwards.
Britney strolled past him and smirked, swinging her hips briefly before standing by the door which Christina had disappeared through. Superman’s eyes followed her, thinking of how much power even a humble guard such as Britney had now. But his eyes had followed the wrong woman.
He felt a spiky kick to his stomach and he rolled onto his back. Anastacia, in all her PVC clad glory, stood over him, and had given him a kick in the guts with her long boots that had spiky heels. Through her trademark dark glasses, she stared down at the fallen Superman with a devilish look that was both stern and mischievous at the same time. She stood with her hands on her hips, her cleavage bursting out of her top.
“How do you feel Superman?” she laughed.
“How do you think I feel? Please, for the good of the world free me… save everyone.”
Anastacia looked at him for a moment and then, as he lay splayed out on his back beneath her, she knelt down and straddled Superman, pushing her PVC clad pussy against him. She stroked his hair, and Superman tossed his head to one side to resist it.
“Surely you’ve heard the rumours Superman? Surely you know all about what’s in her chambers? We will never deny Christina her fun!”
Superman moaned softly and writhed in his Kryptonite collar.
Britney stepped forward, and stopped at the top of Superman’s head, leaning over, dangling her breasts in his face. Superman’s mind was in turmoil. He had been floored by the Kryptonite, and now he was feeling powerful but submissive sexual urges, as the gorgeous blonde Anastacia wriggled on his cock and Britney pressed her bosom into his face.
“Want to know what’s on the menu for you tonight Superman?” Britney asked seductively.
Superman just groaned weakly. Anastacia threw his arms to his side and held them down.
“She’s going to tie you up Superman,” said Anastacia, with vindictive delight.
“Mmm, sounds good doesn’t it Superman?” grinned Britney.
Superman tossed his head from side to side, lost in torture, every cell in his body screeching in torment.
“I think the slave wants to be undressed now, don’t you Britney?” said Anastacia, licking her lips.
Superman’s eyes widened as Britney grabbed a clump of his hair and pulled it, trying to drag him to his feet. His poor weakened body felt so heavy now, especially with his red boots on as well. He stumbled to his feet, and stood with his head bowed as Anastacia put her arms around his neck and slowly started removing his red cape. She threw it to the floor, with a sharp flick of her hand. Britney crept up behind him, and placed her hands on his ass cheeks, moving them around slowly until she was caressing his cock. She snaked her fingers over his bulging pants, sliding them up towards his hips and gently unclipping his yellow belt. She took it off, and laced it across her hands, strolling round in front of him with her heels clicking against the floor. She threw the belt to Anastacia who in turn, threw it on top of the cape.
Then it was Anastacia’s turn to take an item of his clothing off. They were toying with Superman, sadistically enjoying taking away his garments piece by piece, stealing his power and removing every last symbol of his former dominance over them.
“Lift your foot Superman,” she ordered.
Superman could only moan now, the Kryptonite having sapped any energy that could have helped him speak.
“I said, LIFT YOUR FOOT!” Anastacia bellowed at him, giving him a vicious slap across his left cheek, the force of which forced the weakened Superhero to collapse back onto the floor. Superman, with his cheek burning red, felt utterly ashamed. It was also the first time he had ever felt any semblance of pain. The slap stung his cheeks, and his jaw felt bruised.
“So this is how it feels,” he realised.
His humiliation burnt him almost as much as the green shards in his collar. He felt his tears welling up as he saw his intensity of his helplessness matched only the by the glee in his Anastacia’s wicked eyes. She towered over him, glaring aggressively at him.
“One slap and you fall Superman. How the mighty have fallen!” she laughed. Britney stood next to her.
“Perhaps the ‘S’ on his chest should stand for something else Anastacia,” said Britney. “I was thinking ‘Submissive-Man’! What do you think Superman?”
They both laughed and taking one foot each, they began to remove his red boots. All that was left now, was the blue suit and the red pants.
Superman looked up at his tormentors. He now knew what it was like to be helpless, struggling to resist. He could not fight, he could not shout and he could not plead for mercy. No one would come, no one could help him and there was certainly no chance of mercy. His Kryptonite collar embodied the new Superman. He was a weakling and a submissive. Most of all, he was Christina Aguilera’s slave.
The collar when it had been placed on him had felt like a cold chill, sweeping over his body. His frame, once superhuman, had become mortal in an instant. He had never known pain, or physical misery. But his muscles quickly sagged and his strength drained out of him. But most of all, his mentality had changed. He accepted his defeat instantly. He knew he had to submit to Christina – her power over him was complete. The only way he could be of any use to anyone now was by cooperating with his evil Mistress.
Britney and Anastacia snapped him out of his thoughts. They had tossed his boots onto the rest of the pile and had grabbed his ankles. They dragged Superman away from the wall, along the floor to the centre of the room, his head banging against the floor. The two sexy blonde guards stood back and folded their arms. They looked stunning. Britney was clad head to toe in PVC, her cleavage bursting out and her hair wild and sexy. Her PVC catsuit was split down the middle, right to her midriff, which revealed a pierced belly button. Anastacia was dressed likewise, but her expression was more smouldering and sinister, hiding something dangerous, as opposed to Britney’s obvious delight in their sadomasochistic activity. Superman rolled onto his side, holding himself up with his arms and managed to summon the strength to raise his head. His sad and beaten eyes looked helplessly between Britney and Anastacia.
“Stand up Superman,” said Anastacia.
“I can’t. I just… can’t.”
“You must,” said Britney. “Stand up and face your submissive defeat – it is your destiny Superman. Christina has foretold it.”
Superman clambered onto all fours and then with a groan and a sway he held his hands on his knees and lifted himself halfway up. He was shaken, poised to fall over at any moment but fighting against the Kryptonite to carry out their order. Beads of perspiration fell from his forehead as the two guards pretended to yawn. He was finally upright again, and looked at the floor.
“Please,” he stuttered, “Pl… please. Is there anything… anything I can do to change this… to change your mind? One last plea for mercy?”
Anastacia stared at him sternly, utterly impassive.
“Take off your clothes Superman. Take off the last pieces of what makes you a Super Man. Because you’re not a Super Man anymore are you? You’re a weakling. You’re Christina’s. The Kryptonite has destroyed your power Superman. You are not a Super Man, so stop dressing like one.”
Britney joined in the teasing.
“Plus, we want to see you struggle. It took all that effort to stand up so watching you undress should be hilarious!”
Superman sighed. Anastacia and Britney approached him, close enough for him to feel their warm breath. Their fingers ran over his big ‘S’.
“Take it off,” they said in unison.
Superman bent down, slowly and feebly, and pulled down his red pants. Anastacia held out her hands and with his head bowed, Superman passed them to her. He then looked up again at the guards, and they nodded at him with a sadistic, yet seductive smile. He pulled his arms from the sleeves of his blue suit and lifted the top over his head, passing it to Britney to throw onto the pile. It was the first time Superman’s bare, heaving and muscular chest had ever been seen and both of his captors were impressed with his form. He was so impressively tanned as well and they could see why their leader Christina had been so obsessively hell bent on capturing him and subjecting him to subservience.
“What pleasure Christina could derive from such a body, such a catch and such a slave,” Britney thought as she tossed the top onto the pile. She watched with Anastacia, as Superman pulled down his trousers, revealing his long, thick cock. He stepped out of the trousers and left them on the floor.
At last, Superman was naked in front of Britney and Anastacia. Having been blown away by his impressive physique, they were dumbstruck by the length and girth of his cock.
Superman was stripped. Stripped of everything but his Kryptonite collar, which seemed to glow even brighter now that he was in such a submissive pose.
“Well, I have to admit it Britney,” said Anastacia, “I’m just a little bit jealous of Christina.”
“Mmm, me too.”
They split up, with Britney walking behind Superman and Anastacia taking both of his hands. They moved him to the very centre of the room, and stood him on a square that was drawn into the floor. The atmosphere for Superman was mournful, like a funeral march as he was led and marched into a life of sexual submission and repression. The room and its coldness seemed to emphasise the life being slowly dragged out of Superman and a new life being created for him. A new life personified by Kryptonite; one of weakness and subservience. The collar defined his future, one of slavery at the hands of Christina. It was such a symbolic moment. He was being led by the hand and crossing over into a new life. Anastacia held his hands, and Britney walked to the wall, which had an iron lever on it.
“That Kryptonite must be killing you now Superman,” Anastacia said smugly. “I bet if you could have one wish and one of your powers back, you’d choose your ability to fly wouldn’t you?”
Superman shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, we’re going to give you that back,” Anastacia lifted Superman’s hands up into the air. As she did this, Britney pulled the lever. There was a whirr of machinery and overhead a maze of chains moved into action. It was essentially a pulley system. The chains grinded along, until above Superman’s head were a pair of manacles, linked to a two foot long piece of chain that lowered onto Superman’s arms. Britney and Anastacia took a hand each and handcuffed Superman into the chains. Finally, he was restrained. For the first time in his life, Superman could not move. He could not break free.
His stunning guards went back to the lever and pulled it again. The chains moved back into the ceiling and the attached manacles lifted Superman off of the ground. He was about two to three feet off the ground, his collar glowing and his cock swaying. Britney and Anastacia blew him a kiss and waved goodbye, laughing sadistically as the pulley carried Superman towards the door that Christina had gone through. It opened as Superman was taken towards it, helplessly dangling from the restraints. His arms were aching and his muscles were tearing. He was plunged into darkness as he went through the door and it slammed behind him. He was carried down a ramp into the notorious torture chamber, which was an underground expanse of danger and torment. Christina’s infamous sadism was about to be joined by Superman’s enforced masochism. The chains carried him into the centre of the chamber and what an intimidating sight it was. His eyes had barely time to readjust to the light. The room was lit by a multitude of candles and there was a roaring fire on one side. A combination of this change in light and the effects of the Kryptonite upon his super vision meant that he hardly had time to take in all of the details. In any case, the sight of his arch nemesis and new Mistress distracted him. Christina stepped out of the darkness.
She embodied dominance. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail on the crown of her head, pulled back tightly. Her make up was dark and her lips were pursed. She wore a chain mail bra and black PVC hot pants with thigh high PVC boots. The chains stopped, leaving Superman dangling directly in front of her. She looked up at him, with a sadistic grin. She sighed with a shudder of excitement.
“How do you feel Superman?”
He ignored her.
“I do hope you’ve not been inconvenienced by the wait for me Super Babe. I never like to leave my guests… hanging around.” She laughed and tossed her head back, clapping her hands together.
Superman moaned and looked up at the manacles that held him so tightly.
“You think… You think you’re so powerful don’t you Christina?” he gasped. “You told me that you were preparing my bondage. I’d hardly call this impressive.” It was a desperate attempt at taunting his captor.
“Well, you don’t look like you’re going anywhere for a while Superman, so I won’t cash in my chips just yet,” she replied, deflecting his jibe easily. “And in any case, your manacles are only a sign of things to come. I have a stricter, more intensive bondage for you. And what’s more, I’ve got more Kryptonite. That collar is merely the tip of the iceberg.”
There was a rush of air from behind the wall and something slid down a tube. A hatch opened and there were Superman’s clothes in a pile.
“Ah, a special delivery from my girls,” said Christina. “Well, you won’t be needing these anymore will you?”
She picked up the pile of clothes and threw them on the fire.
Superman could only watch as his cape, red pants, yellow belt, red boots and blue suit went up in smoke. Through the glow of the flame he saw his big ‘S’ incinerate and melt away to nothing. Every last trace of his power was now destroyed.
Christina shimmied towards him again, standing only a few inches away from him. Her head was almost level with his stomach and her mouth in perfect line with his cock. The chain mail bra rattled on her impressive breasts and she stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.
“It is time Superman. Your destiny has arrived.”