Costume Party Part 2: Shattered Kryptonite

Clark Kent blinked as the light shining in his eyes began to clear. He glanced out the window out onto the Metropolis skyline wondering what on Earth could have flashed so bright it caused his Kryptonian eyes to water. A glance around the Daily Planet offices indicated that only he seemed to notice the flash. Had it been some sort of UV blast? Or had the sleepless October nights investigating the recent disappearances of bodybuilders under both of his personas started to get to him? Not likely. Clark knew his limits and was certain he had not reached them. He decided he’d do a scan of the area in the direction of the light later. Could lead him to clues, or something else altogether.

His attention returned to the image on his monitor. Jeff Stacco, age 26, a good-looking young man (isn’t every bodybuilder?) ironically dressed in a screen printed version of his very own uniform as the S-man. He was notable as the first reported instance of a bodybuilder gone missing in the past week. His girlfriend reported they had gone to a costume party hosted by their next-door neighbor and she went home early, and he never returned. What’s weird is police investigated the house next door, and found that no one lived there. In fact, no one had lived there in years according to city records. There was no explanation for why the house was sitting abandoned, or why it’s holding company had never sold it. Another, even weirder, aspect of this case was that all the men were reported to have gone missing on Halloween… But that couldn’t be right, because TONIGHT was halloween, and Clark had been investigating this story for at least a month now, right? He couldn’t pin down the exact date Jeff should have gone missing but he knew it had been a while.

The weirdest thing about this case, however, was just how familiar Jeff seemed to Clark. Like he knew this guy. Not in a “I’ve seen this guy” sense, like perhaps they had run into him in the odd appearance Clark made at the gym to help hide suspicions of his alter ego. No, it was like something about Jeff, this picture in particular, made Clark feel like he should be a close friend, like maybe Clark was even present when this picture was taken. He could imagine distinctly Jeff struggling to get the costume on- but perhaps that’s just him crossing wires with his own experiences with skin tight suits. In any case, it was this strange familiarity that inspired Clark to take on this case to begin with, like he owed it to his old friend to find him.

Clark’s phone vibrated in his pocket. A text from a top secret number delivered through an encrypted app Bruce had installed on his phone. It seems there’s been a string of murders somewhere along Lampkin Lane on the outskirts of Metropolis, in the neigbhoring town of Haddonfield.

Larry Strode was hiding in the closet. Not in the sense that he was hiding his sexuality; He was definitely straight (he thinks.) No he was hiding from the masked killer that was roaming around his neighbors house, half naked, revealing a physique that had him questioning his sexuality as deeply as he was fearing for his life. His best friend, Andy Bracket was bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and this guy was covered in his blood, and yet something about the way it clung to his body and the way the moonlight hit him filled Larry’s thoughts with a strange mixture of fear and lust.

The closet doors began to shake telling Larry that the savage killer had found him. When the knot Larry had tied around the doorhandkes held strong the man resorted to brute forcing his way in, punching through the thin wooden blinds like paper with a sturdy fist and forearm. With some flailing the killer managed to both turn overhead closet light on and barge his way inside. He towered over Larry, giving the questioning young man a full frontal view. A white mask resembling some famous actor or another convered his real presumably handsome face. Around his waste was tied the arms of the the mechanics jumpsuit he appeared to be wearing. It’s a wonder this monster even bother to cover up at all.

Larry didn’t have to ponder what the half-worn jumpsuit was hiding as the boogieman pulled at one of the arms causing the entire garment to unfurl down to his knees revealing cartoonishly sizeable genitalia. The monster breathed heavily beneath the mask as he stepped closer to Larry, putting him nose to head with the monsters monstrous cock. An unexpectantly pleasant musk invaded his nose, masking the acrid smell of piss that was now emanating from Larry’s own warm crotch. Larry tried to resist his carnal instincts but his body betrayed him. Tears formed in his eyes as he opened his mouth allowing his lust to overtake his fear.

“Unf fuck yeah, Larry, suck your Brothers cock.” The voice came from the open balcony across the room from the closet door. The monster and Larry both looked in the voice’s direction as an urge more powerful even than his own lust  compelled Larry to keep his moth latched to the Phallus before him, not even questioning what the voice meant by his brother.

Standing there, watching them with his own cock out, was a non-descript man in a bright Pink suit.

The Monster gave a moan from under the mask, as if he was being gagged, and he turned to walk towards the Pink Man, causing Larry to topple over in trying to maintain a connection between his mouth and the Monsters penis.

“What’s that Mikey? I’m sorry did you forget you can’t talk? You never talked in any of your movies so what makes you think you can start now.” The Pink Man smile maliciously, eliciting a growl from the Boogie Man. He was going to take another step closer but Larry had crawled in front of him and had reattached himself to his cock. “I have to say it was an interesting couples costume. Laurie Strode in Drag and Michael Myers himself. Gives a whole new meaning to gays guys looking like they date their brothers.”

The Monster growled again, raising his knife to strike the Pink Man, when yet another voice emerged from the window. “Stop right there!” In a flash of blue the Monster found himself pinned against the closet wall. The dust quickly settled revealing and handsome man with slick black hair and twirling spit curl on his forehead, donning a blue spandex jumpsuit and a long black cape. Immediately the Monster attempted to stab the interloper with a knife, but found his skin did not give the way his other victims had.

“Drop the knife! I don’t want to harm you!” the Interloper exclaimed as the Monster continued to slash away at him. When the masked man refused the command, opting instead to groan angrily and attempt to stab even harder, the costumed hero focused his gaze on the knife itself and a quick beam of light blasted from his eyes, obliterating the knife handle, rendering it useless. Unperturbed, the killer continued swinging his fist, in an attempt to remove his accoster. The hero was left with no choice, but knock the monster unconscious with a swift but measure punch to the jaw.

Clark lowered the assailant’s body down to the ground as and was brushed aside by the apparent victim who seemed to have an overwhelming compulsion to fellate his attack. “What on earth is going on here?” He remarked, and was met with a slow clap from the man in the Pink Suit.

“Look who finally decided to join the party! I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Jeff!” The name struck Clarks mind like a lobotomy pick.

“Nice try, but my name’s not Jeff. You must be the infamous Pink Man I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“Oh that’s right! You’re Clark now! Sorry, I keep getting my timelines mixed up. All the reality warping lately.”

“How did you…” but Clark caught himself. “Ahem, my name isn’t Clark either. I’m Superman, and I’m taking you to the authorities.”

“Oh? On what grounds, Superman?” the Pink Man replied sardonically.

“You’re wanted in connection with the disappearances of several young men.”

“Huh. Did that little aspect of reality make it’s way in here? Funny. I think the only place you’re taking me is back to my headquarters. Isn’t that right, Superman”

The crack that formed in Clark’s mind when he was called Jeff shattered. Of course he was taking this man back to his headquarters. It was exactly the appropriate move. He need to find the villain’s lair to find the missing men and here the villain was willing to take him straight there.

“Of course! There’s just one problem, I don’t know where it is!”

“Well pick me up like a damsel in distress, and I’ll show you!”

An odd instruction Clark had to admit, but there weren’t many other ways to carry a person. He grasped the Pink Man from under his shoulder and reached down to tuck his other arm beneath the man’s knees. Though the man was sizeable, it wasn’t nothing Clark’s kryptonian strength couldn’t handle. The two lifted into the air, and flew out of the window and out of Haddonfield, towards a tower in Metropolis that strangely Clark didn’t recognize. The word VOUGHT was spelled out over top of it. The Pink Man directed Clark to a balcony and he set the man down, before following him into a rather ravishly patriotic penthouse. The two were greeted by an eerily handsome blond man in a jumpsuit not too dissimilar to Clark’s own, albeit a bit more pompous, with a smile that seemed to be hiding an heir of menace.

“Killgrave! Where on earth have you been? You missed me in today’s press briefing!”

“Killgrave, is it? You must mad at me Johnny using my government name and in front of our new guest even!”

“I’m sorry Pink Man, and uh… I’m sorry I don’t think I know your name. I thought I knew every Supe in the area.”

“Supe?” Superman said, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, introductions are in order. Homelander, this is Superman, Superman, Homelander. You’ll find you both have similar capabilities, but I’m afraid your personalities are quite different. No worries, I’m sure I can help us all along. Now Johnnyboy, I’m sure you must dying for daily treat, and I’m certainly quite ready to give it.”

Homelander’s eyes went wide. “Pink Man, in front of another- Are you sure?”

“It’s Daddy, right now, and Yes I’m sure. Get on your knees baby boy.”

Homeland did so as The Pink Man slipped his cock out of his trousers, which apparently did not have any form of crotch zipper, giving him regular easy access. Homelander slurped up the short but fat chode with the enthusiasm of a hungry pup, bobbing his head and lapping his tongue around the shaft and down to the scrotum.

Clark wanted to vomit. Not necessarily from the homosexual nature of what was happening (that part seemed to be hitting in a strangely arousing way) but from the altogether strange and absurd nature of the entire interaction. He was about leave the room to investigate but the Pink Man saw him go to move and spoke up.

“Don’t go anywhere, Jeff! Or should I say Clark! You and I will have some playtime soon, and you’re really looking forward to it.”

Clar didn’t know what he meant by Play time, but he imagined it was going to be well worth the wait, so he decided to remain in the room. He quickly scanned it and realized they weren’t alone. Off in the corner’s of the room were what Clark thought were Greek style statues, but he soon realized where living men, holding incredibly still poses. Their eyes looked to him with a worried fear, but it was clear they couldn’t say anything or make a move to help themselves. Well there’s two of the missing men, Clark thought to himself. A moan from the Man in Pink pulled Clark out of thoughts and into the situation that was now confronting him. A being of supposedly equal power to Clarks (Was he Kryptonian? Martian? Born in a lab?) was debasing himself for a man in a Pink Suit, and calling him daddy. The man, (Killgrave was it?) shook as he appeared to ejaculate into this powerful beings mouth. Homelander looked up at Killgrave as cum dribbled from his mouth and said “Thank you, Daddy!”

Kilgrave patted Homelander’s face, “You’re very welcome Johnny! Why don’t you share some of that with our new friend here?” Clark felt like a pit opened in his stomach. Why did he mean “Share some of that?” It didn’t take long for Clark to ponder as Homelander rose to his feet and approached him, looking into his eyes with lust. “Don’t worry Clark,” Kilgrave reassured him. “You find Homelander very sexy, and you want nothing more than to make out with him, and taste his daddy’s milk on his tongue.”

It was true, Clark thought, Homelander was very sexy. His piercing blue eyes, his crooked smile. They pulled each other close causing their capes to ripple. Our lips met and they’re hands grasped at each other’s thick muscles bulging and stretching their skin tight suits. Clarks raven hair contrasted beautifully with Homelanders blonde.

“Augh fuck that’s so hot,” said Kilgrave as their tongues continued to wrestle. His cock had returned to it’s rock hard status.

“Probably assisted by the rock,” Jeff thought to himself.

“Wait what was that thought?” Clark pondered. “That at wasn’t my voice”

And what rock was it talking about? Clark opened his eyes as he continued to swap spit with the blonde hunk before him. His eyes darted around the room seeking… something, anything to summon that voice in his head again. His cock was throbbing as he continued to kiss the menacing man before him, and in a fit of passion he started to turn him, allowing his eyes more vantage points to find purchase upon this “rock” that was wiggling at the back of his mind. Then he saw it,

On the bedside table, beside a grand bed canopied with American Flag curtains, a dazzling large ruby on a gold chain hung from a stand. THERE. The cracks in his mind began to fork, widening, and allowing memories of another life began to slip through. Killgrave sitting by a fireplace. Lydia, trying her best to warn Jeff. LYDIA. Jeff being forced to follow Kilgrave's commands, but Clark was seeing it through Jeff’s eyes. Why does he suddenly remember so much about Jeff.

The kissing was getting so passionate now, Clark was caught between the extreme arousal for this apparent antithesis of himself, and the sudden splitting that was happening inside his skull, but both urge were pulling him towards the bed, for some superhero supersuited super fucking, and to end the reality bending mind fucking that was being caused by that crystal.

Superman pushed Homelander onto the bed, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from both the blonde anti-hero and their pink-suited observer.

“That’s right Superman. Fuck Homelander in the ass. Put your wanna be in your place. You’re so gay and dominant. You’re the true defender of humanity.”

All thoughts of the gem were brushed aside as the overwhelming desire to dominate this faker and put him in his place consumed Clark. He deftly flipped Homelander onto his stomach and found a strangely convenient zipper running up his bulbous backside (doing a nice job to accentuate his cheeks. He then noticed a strange sensation on his bulging super cock- there seemed to have been a crotch zipper in his own super suit this entire time. After freeing both his cock and Homelander’s crack Clark lubed up with his own spit, and plunged deep into Homelander without warning. Homelander screamed in both pain and ecstasy and part of him seemed to want to resist the urge to be fucked by his compatriot, which Killgrave seemed to notice.

“Come on Homelander! You need Superman’s cock balls deep in your ass! Give in! Let’s light this candle!” The expression Johnny wore changed from pain the adoration.

“Fuuuck give it to me Superguy! Fuck me with that cock!” Clark needed no further invite. He unleashed all of his superhuman strength and speed plowing away and Homelander’s loosening hole. Luckily the bed and the building was reinforced for just this level of supe fucking that it held on like no tommorow. The ruby, now gone completely from Clark’s mind swayed on the stand to the rhythm of the pseudo-copulation. Every so often it caught Jeff’s attention, but Killgrave, perhaps intentionally, kept directing Clarks back to the sex at hand. At one point in the throes of passion Homelander unleashed an eyebeam which struck the ruby, shattering it. But Killgrave was unconcerned. The party had already started and the guests had all arrived, enough to sate his sexual appetite for a very long time.