SuperSons - Part 2: Training and Lesson's Learned

Here is Part 2! Thank you again to my anonymous friend who wrote the first one. I wouldn't have written this without his inspiration and help!

Part 1: So Much for Superboy

 

Damian’s mind raced the entire night and considered how he could best help his young friend. Undoubtedly, this is a sensitive topic in more ways than one. After a kick and a punch, back to back yesterday, Jon was out of commission and needed to be taken care of and carried to his bed. Damian realized how easy it might be for a villain to do that to Jon, which is certainly a bad thing; Jon isn’t used to taking damage and if he can be defeated so easily and the bad guys learned that… it wouldn’t be good.

Damian thought and thought, and considered if he should really wait and talk about it with Jon tomorrow. One side of him knows that playing soft and nice is exactly the type of training that would lead Jon to getting taken advantage of; and since he knows now, that he isn't as "Super" as his dad, it's extra important to compensate for that. But at the same time, Damian knows that Jon's his friend and he shouldn't push him to do anything he's not comfortable with. Damian pondered for some time, but decided that he'll decide tomorrow after seeing how Jon is in the morning. After all, Damian knows what makes him such a prodigy is his flexibility and intellect. There's no reason to decide now, what could be wrong tomorrow.
 
Damian let his mind wander and drifted to sleep without any trouble.


Damian woke up, shaking his head, groaning and stretching out in his sleeping back with an “R” on it. His soft, smooth and trained arms stretched out, pulling their sinew to their maximum as he turned his head and slowly opened his eyes. Jon was sitting up in his bed, wearing his Superman pajamas and crossing his legs as he yawned out. He groaned lightly, bent over slightly and pulled a hand down to his package and rearranged. Damian could see the discomfort on Jon’s face as he went through his motions. Damian started to remember everything he thought about before he fell asleep. 

 
 “Damiaan… ugh. I’m still sore…” Jon grimaced as he stood up. Damian’s eyes followed Jon's body, and saw stuff shift in his pajamas as he stood up.

“Your nuts?” Damian asked with a smirk on. Damian himself started to get out of his sleeping bag. He still had on his black tank top and shorts. He pulled his shorts down a bit as Jon groggily approached him. Wide open, Damian noticed. A bit careless, considering what they both learned yesterday.
 

SuperSons - Part 1: So Much for Superboy

New series of stories! This first one, was sent to me by an anonymous friend who did pretty great with this! Thank you for this and giving me so much context!

 

I really liked this story, talked with my friend and felt inspired to write some to continue (despite me not being very familiar with the characters before this). He helped me a lot with the characters, so I hope they feel natural in the next parts! There will be a few more stories coming over the summer that are related to this, so stay tuned! This was an experiment for me, so I hope you guys enjoy! :)

Damian Wayne A.K.A. Robin was sleeping over at the Kent Farm this weekend, after spending the day battling foes with his best friend, Superboy A.K.A. Jon Kent. The "Super Sons" have bonded fiercely over the past year despite their friendship's rocky beginnings. Bruce was happy to let his child stay over with a family he trusted, feeling guilt over Damian's life being hampered by vigilantism. Clark felt similarly and is often the one suggesting that the boys bond whenever possible. Of course, this also means that the Kent family can have trouble resting as they hear occasional bickering and loud snack bags torn open from Jon's bedroom. Tonight was no different.

 

Jon had on his Superman pajamas while Damian wore his combo of a black tank top and shorts, both sitting on the floor and furiously mashing buttons as they fought each other in a round of Mortal Kombat. Clark would object to Jon playing any game with that much gore, so Damian has resorted to sneaking in his own copies upon every visit. Jon almost always plays as Raiden and can typically keep up with Damian's skills. Being trained by Batman doesn't mean you're perfect at everything. Damian doesn't have a "main" character, but instead tries to master everyone on the game's roster, deciding to develop his skills with Johnny Cage tonight.

 

"Gotcha! Again!" Shouted Jon after another well-fought victory. 

 

This would go on like this an hour as the boys kept adapting to each other's plays. They deeply needed this, as this month had been particularly exhausting with school and bad guys piling up. It was nothing the Super Sons couldn't handle with incredible parents like theirs. Regardless, these nights have become the highlights of their lives, bonding and having fun as best friends always should despite their peculiar circumstances. Their families know it's for the best that they can enjoy it while it lasts.

 

The two are able to match each other for many more rounds, but something keeps bothering Jon. Every time Damian defeats him, he goes to end the fight with Johnny Cage's classic "nut punch" move, putting a mischievous smirk on Damian's face. It felt as if he kept rubbing his losses in. Jon was usually a good sport about things but this was a particularly humiliating way to lose a fight. After two more matches of this and Damian getting progressively fired up, Jon got upset. "C'mon dude, stop that!" he whined out while suddenly standing up.

 

"What's the problem here?" Damian asked cheekily, obviously knowing Jon is annoyed but too amused by the situation to take his best friend seriously. Jon just rolled his eyes and put his controller down, sitting on his bed with his arms crossed and looking mopey. Damian followed suit and sat down across from Jon, facing him with his hand resting on his chin. "It's just a really embarrassing way to lose!" Jon said while staring at the wall, avoiding eye-contact. Damian quickly realized there was something more going on here. He's beaten his best friend dozens of times and has never really gotten this reaction before. There was something up, but he needed Jon to say more. "Embarrassing way to lose?" he asked inquisitively, awaiting the despondent Superboy to elaborate. Jon eventually blurted out "Getting hit in the nuts! You kept punching my Raiden in the nuts and smiling about it."

 

Damian was caught off guard to say the least. I mean, out of the hundreds of ways to be brutally killed in Mortal Kombat, why was this the method that set Jon off? After a few seconds passed, Damian suspected something and clicked his tongue, asking "So it's not just the game, I take it?" while adjusting his position to something more attentive. They've opened up to each other about more serious subjects as of late, to the point where Damian quickly recognizes Jon's body language when he desperately needs to let something off his chest. The situation was still a little funny to him but he'd hear his friend out over anything. Jon sighed and took a moment to compose himself before airing his thoughts.

 

A True Encounter: Found Story

Hello! I told you guys I'd be posting more haha. If you haven't seen the previous Eric and Adam stories, please read them! They're really great, fresh and there will be more with them later in the year! 

 

Anyways, I was on Pixiv, a mostly eastern/Japanese website with a lot of fan art and decent busting images. And I realized I could look for stories, though they were almost entirely in Japanese. So, I decided to translate a story that I found that sounded promising off the limited translating I did for the "blurb" at the start. And as it turns out, something about this story just stuck with me and I needed to do something with it (I didn't get to read the whole story either, so I don't know how it really ends)

 

The translation was a bit... choppy, so I fixed it up as I saw fit. Changed something, leaned into others. I took some liberties with this, but this is a terrible story.

 WARNING: This is messed up. Probably the most messed up story on here. I don't think I'll be working with anything like this again, and I do no condone anything written below. PERMANENT DAMAGE AHEAD

 

Original link here (you need to make an account to view it):

 

A park at dusk. 

 

I used duct tape to secure the legs of the stray cat I had lured in with Actinidia and placed it on the ground. I watched, curiously as the cat struggled in pain on the ground. 

 

Did you know that if you burn cat's fur with a lighter, it would create a sulfur aroma? There's a lot you can learn when experimenting, and of course a lot to gain. My mouth loosened at the sound of the cat's whining, it's tinged fur  casting a familiar odor for me to inhale. These moments made me feel kind of high. The process too. Burning the materials and ingesting as much of the effects as possible. But this was more active. It was more like conducting an improvisation orchestra, in command and bringing everything to new heights. You follow the intrinsic wave of sounds, you learn how to read the sheet music. You listen to the energy around you and realize how to use the tools at your disposal. 

 

Just as I was about to stick the needle into the cat’s body I heard a sudden and loud yell. It was strong and deep, causing me to jump and look up, pulling me from my enchantment. My eyes opened wide, pulled back in realization that I may no longer be the predator here. 

 

A young man stood over me in the uniform of the local high school. 

 

I was stunned. The high school student ripped off the duct tape that had been wrapped around the cat's leg and let the cat escape before I could use the needle. . 

 

"What the fuck is the matter with you! Humans who abuse animals are the worst kind of scum! You're human trash! Fuck you!"

 

The kid spat his words and stood in front of me, taking on my full attention. I was no longer scared, but I couldn't react either. I haven't seen a look like that in years. He hated me. 

Eric and Adam - Part 2 and 3: Uncharted Territory and The Club

 Part One: Best Friends

Part Two: Uncharted Territory

Eric sits there, feeling lost and confused. He wants to pound at Adam's door and demand answers, but he also knows he should probably give Adam some space. While he is concerned for his friend, Eric can't help but feel a twinge of anger at Adam leaving him high and dry. Was it something he said? Did he push too hard? He tries to calm himself down, taking deep breaths, but it doesn't help. Was he just not good enough for Adam?

 

He rocks back and forth as a barrage of thoughts assault his mind. How dare Adam leave him here alone after kissing him back. He stands up and paces around the room as he tries to calm himself down again. He needs to give Adam some time, but he feels abandoned. He had let himself hope that they could be something more, what a stupid decision. He walks to Adam's door and knocks twice, hoping to hear his friend's voice from the other side, but he gets no reply. He almost begins to pound on the door in his frustration but stops himself. Instead, stalks back to his own room and slams the door. 

 

Eric drops face down on his bed as anger and confusion courses through him. What the hell even happened there? Was he really dumb enough to believe that someone like Adam would be into his scrawny ass? He tosses and turns, unable to find a comfortable position as sleep eludes him completely. 

 

As the night wears on, his mind replays the events from earlier, trying to make sense of it all. Why had Adam not tried to stop him? Or had he tried and gotten ignored by Eric? He goes down the spiral as he stares at the ceiling. When he picks up his phone to distract himself, he finds that he can't focus on anything else. Eric gives up on the tactic after about an hour, he throws his phone on the bed with a sigh and yells into a pillow.

 

Even though his emotions are in complete turmoil right now, the memory of having his muscular roommate by the balls is crystal clear in his head. Eric sits up, feeling the warmth spreading in his groin, his dick starting to chub up again. Annoyed at his own body, he decides that the best way to deal with it is to get the release that he was denied when Adam decided to bolt.

 

Eric reaches into his shorts and takes out his semi-hard dick, starting to stroke it slowly, reliving their wrestling match in his head. He remembers how Adam's strong and solid body had seemed utterly helpless when Eric had punted his dangling package from behind. How the heavy orbs deformed as Eric had punched them from below. And then there was that moment when Eric had his hand wrapped around Adam's manhood, a promise to get him back for when he'd flattened Eric's own package. It all comes rushing back to him as his hand moves faster on his rock hard dick.

 

Eric and Adam - Part 1: Best Friends

An anonymous friend was working with an AI (linked here) and was able to make their own story with it! They did a lot of editing and directing the AI, so this is really his own story that I'm sharing here. I went over it a bit to touch up somethings and I love the result! It feels really fresh and exciting, so huge shout out to my friend for working so hard on this and letting me share it! 

 

I'm sure you guys will love this :)  

 

The rest of this story will come out in a few weeks, so be sure to check this blog more regularly! Things will be a bit more active here for a little bit :)

 

 

 

Eric and Adam are hanging out in their shared apartment. It's a cosy two bedroom place, but the only mess-free zone in the entire apartment is Eric’s room. They've been roommates for a year and friends for around three years. Eric doesn't mind cleaning up after Adam, but he frequently badgers Adam to keep the place clean.

 

It is late afternoon on a Saturday, Eric is wearing grey shorts and a white tee. Adam is wearing sweats and a black tank top. But it’s a warm day, and Adam is feeling it. He promptly removes the sweats to throw them into a pile of clothes next to the couch. 

 

“Dude, you're such a mess!" Eric says, pushing Adam a bit, as they sit side by side on the couch. 

 

"Why don't you ever pick up after yourself?" 

 

Adam groans, laughing as he pushes himself back up, but says nothing otherwise. Eric groans.

 

"Oh, come on! It's not that hard," Eric continues, pointing at a pile of clothes on the floor. "You could at least throw those in the hamper or something." 

 

Adam rolls his eyes, feeling a bit annoyed by Eric's constant nagging. "Oh, please! You're the messiest person I know! At least I can admit it," he lies, knowing it will annoy Eric. "Besides, it's not like you're perfect or anything." As Adam says this, he sits up, pulling a leg up and spreading the other further away, bumping into Eric with his leg. 

 

There's a moment of silence as Eric takes this in. He looks at Adam, the 23 year-old stud, legs wide open on the couch, one leg bumping his and the other swaying gently. Eric can't help but admire his friend's physique. Adam is 6'4" and muscular, with broad shoulders and toned arms. He has dark hair that falls over his eyes, and a smile that could light up a room. His toned thighs are strong enough to suffocate someone, and they frame his ample bulge perfectly. Eric’s seen Adam’s bulge before, but he has never complained about the view. In red briefs, Eric can see the outline of Adam’s manhood clearly and as usual, he is not disappointed. 

 

"Oh yeah?" Eric finally says, trying to play it cool and pushing his leg back into Adam’s. "And what makes you think I'm not perfect?"

 

Avatar the Last Airbender: Critical Hit 3 - Bonding and Honor

This story has a part of another story I read awhile ago! Link here for the original. (Most of my story is orignial, but a flashback comes from here.)

ATLA: Critcal Hit 1 - Redux

ATLA: Critical Hit 2 - Lessons and Fun 

 

“Come on, Zuko!”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. No.”

“But it’s for Aaang!” Sokka pleaded.

“I’m saying no for Aang! That isn’t what he needs. And that’s why I’m going to go back home to confront my Father!” Zuko exclaimed with a serious expression, up in Sokka’s face.

“Dude. Sparky.” Toph spoke up. “Do you really think what Twinkletoes needs is vengeance? He’s a vegetarian!”

Zuko raised his eyebrows and took a step back.

“Yeah!” Sokka jumped on. “He needs to move on! We’ve all been hit in the junk before. But Aang needs to know it’s nothing to cry about! It’s something to laugh about!” Sokka said with a smile, hands at his side.

“Smile about.” Zuko grimaced, looking down. “That never led to a smile back home.”

“Looks like it’s something you need to learn to smile about too, Sparky.” Toph said, approaching Zuko. “With a sister like yours, a memory like that might be one of the few things you can smile about!”

Zuko grimaced. “Me and Azula used to get along really well. But… things changed.” He said, looking away. Then turning back with a renewed determination, “But that’s not important right now! I’m not playing!”

“Come on! Aang will have more fun with you!” Sokka pleaded. “And I’m gonna do it with or without you.”

That seems to have caused Zuko some hesitation, looking down and considering. Sokka and Toph looked at each other with a shared grin. We got him!

“But… it’s so stupid.” Zuko said, looking up.

“Listen. That’s why it’s fun.” Sokka said with a smile, an arm around Zuko’s shoulder. “Plus. Don’t you want to get me back?” Sokka said.

“Get you back? For whaUGH!”

As Zuko looked confused, Sokka rocked a hand in and up towards Zuko’s lower midsection, swinging from down below. Sokka’s knuckles made healthy contact with Zuko’s meat and potatoes. The Exiled Prince Zuko’s eyes went out as he bent back and clutched his groin with a shocked expression. Then his mouth clenched with pain as he lowered towards the ground as pain rocked his core, and he felt it difficult to stand.

“Oooh! I’m soOOoO getting you back!” Zuko groaned, going through a wave of pain as he exclaimed his discontent. He stumbled and moaned out a little sickly before putting his head down and curling it in. With a grimace, he looked back up at Sokka, who was smiling and sharing congratulations with Toph.

Zuko yelled out as he jumped up and started to chase Sokka with a hand still clutching his crotch. Sokka shrieked out and ran away from Zuko, who was much quicker than Sokka thought he would be, post nut-tap. Then as Zuko started throwing fire bolts at Sokka’s feet, Sokka kicked it up a gear and screamed out again.

“No bending, no fair! No bending, no fair!”  

Avatar The Last Airbender: Critical Hit 2 - Lessons and Fun

Hello, everyone! I meant to post this earlier, but I have a few stories waiting to get posted, so I gotta get them out there. There's one more story coming after this, so stay tuned!

 

ATLA: Critcal Hit 1 - Redux

 

 

Ever since Aang saved the world and defeated Fire Lord Ozai, he hasn’t been the same. And not in a good way; after Fire Lord Ozai forcibly relinquished his bending, he made sure to get his kicks in. Literally.

While Aang’s back was turned, the Fire Lord crushed the young Avatar’s balls with two devastating kicks, exerting all of his adult, fiery fury. Aang did not expect this and was completely helpless and writhing in pain on the border of consciousness as Sokka found him and brought him back. Then as Katara healed him and brought him back, he relieved his trauma and unearthed some memories as an air nomad, which caused Aang to question things; what’s the point of being good when people laugh at this terrible pain, good or bad? And when this can hurt so, so much… Aang didn’t know the point of fighting. Does respect and honor even matter?

 

It was a traumatic couple of days for Aang, and Katara was soft and delicate with him as a result. She already had tender feelings for Aang, and after his story and seeing the pain he was in, she’s been softer and treated him more delicately. Which on one hand, was kind and done to benefit Aang but it also emasculated him even more. Even more emasculating than attacking his manhood made him feel, to some extent.

Aang wasn’t made to feel any better when after a day, Toph and Sokka started to make light of his condition.

“112 years old, and never got hit in the balls before!”

“Oh, how I wish I could really see Twinkletoes right now!”

“Ha! You’re not missing much. He’s just curled up and grumpy!”

“Sounds like a baby nephew after they wake up from their nap! Come on twinkletoes, you’ve been resting all day, why are you still grumpy!?”

“Guys!” Zuko interrupted them. “It’s not funny, drop it.”

“Come on Sparky, relax. Or are we hitting too close to home?” Toph asked, tilting her head.

Zuko grimaced and huffed. He turned and walked away, not wanting to engage with this right now.

“Oh, it definitely hits too close to home. All guys get hit close to home sometimes! Especially with a sister like Azula.” Sokka shivered and moved a hand low to his thighs when he did so. “Poor Zuko…” Sokka’s face lowered, shaking his head in remembrance of a fallen brother, despite the brother frowning across from him.

“I’m right here, you know!”

“And I bet a brother like you Snoozles, got a bunch of stories that you deserved. Right, Sweetness?” Toph asked, smiling and turning towards Katara, who was busy trying to message Aang with her water.

“Yes, he does. Which is why I don’t understand!” Sokka said, dropping the water and turning around. Aang groaned and turned his back on his loud friends. “Why are you picking on Aang like this! He’s been through a lot!”

“Not more than you put me through.” Sokka pouted.

“And not more than I’m about to if you don’t shut up!” Katara threatened. Sokka shrieked and put some distance between himself and his angry sister.