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Luthor had called for him again. Ultraman was excited and nervous. Knowing what was expected of him now. To serve his father well.
When he came to the big, dark, empty room again, Luthor wore his shirt unbuttoned and half hanging loose from his elegant suit trousers and belt. He was striding on the marble floor barefoot, swaying a half emptied glass of Whiskey in his hand and barely looking at the clone. Ultraman knew by now what was expected of him. He routinely removed his clothes, flexing his muscles in the process as he knew his father liked this.
“Superman, the perfect hero, the oh so altruistic saviour from Mars or Jupiter or where ever the fuck he came from!”, Luthor rambled, more to himself than to Ultraman.
“Superman the invincible, Superman the untouchable, perfect fighter. Oh how I wish that he could see this now!”
He suddenly threw his glass on the floor, making it break. He then picked up one of the shards, careful not to step into any of them and went to Ultraman, fully looking at him for the first time for today. Ultraman got nervous and longing all again. His father allowed him to be in his presence again. His father looked at him again. He wondered if maybe, if he was satisfactory enough this time, he might even hug him afterwards for the very first time. This was all Ultraman ever wanted, that he had ever dreamed of since he was growing in his tank and seeing the disappointment in his fathers eyes. For his father to like him. To be proud of him. To say that he was his son.
***
Ever since he could remember father had been there. SK-0046 - this was his identification number - had been created in a secret high security lab, being conceived and perfected in a glass tank full of nutrient liquid without the imperfections of human flesh. The first few months of his existence - his ‘childhood’ he liked to call it in his mind, as he had not yet grown to his adult form - he mostly spent in the nutritional tank that excellarated his growth and development, speeding up his ripening.
It was painful. The growth hormones and specially designed chemicals made him grow as fast as possible, which meant that he could literally feel his bones breaking and healing over and over again, his joints stretching, his muscles pulling and pushing under his tight, sensitive skin. He often screamed silent cries in the liquid filled tank, his cries swallowed up into his oxygen mask. He cried for hours until he finally fell into an unconscious sleep. Not that it would have made a difference if he were audible. Nobody ever took notice of his ached writhing. The scientists and lab workers observed him either fascinated and distanced like he was some strange virus they studied. Or they looked at him terrified and irritated, scared of the monstrous power he emitted even in his childlike form. Most of them hardly ever looked at him at all. The only one who came by again and again and looked at him, really looked at him, was Mr. Luthor, his father.
***
Luthor brought the shard right up to Ultraman's face. The clone didn't flinch. He was ready to serve in every way that his father deemed fit.
“Open your mouth”, Luthor commanded, and so he did.
“Lick it!”, he said, and Ultraman obediently licked the shard of glass several times, cutting his tongue in the process. The taste of his own blood and the burning of alcohol filled his mouth.
“You're such a good pet”, Luthor said grinning. Ultraman knew by now that this was not meant as a compliment but as a humiliation. Expressing Luthor's enjoyment of having his enemies mirror image as his pet slave to do with him everything he wanted. Luthor loved to degrade, punish, hurt and mock him, enjoying the thought of torturing the real Superman instead. Ultraman knew all this but he could not help but love his father regardless. Against all reason he yearned for his father's affection, to be more to him one day than a tool to be used. And so he did the best that he could to please him.
Luthor finally threw away the shard of glass after a while and undressed.
***
Ever since he had learned what a father was in one of his countless lessons with the computers and human instructors he secretly thought of Mr. Luthor as his father. The staff was rotating positions every few weeks, coming and going. People who acted friendly towards him, like that one woman with the brown hair who had once looked and smiled at him sadly, seemed to disappear more quickly and never turn up again.
But Luthor came to him again and again, inquiring about him, instructing the staff, looking at his growing body with both amazement and disdain. He was impatient. Urging the staff to make the process of his growth even faster, disregarding their complaints of the dangers.
He even stopped by some times to oversee his instructions. SK-0046 was given special medications to enhance his cognitive abilities and learning speed. When he was not in the tank he was instructed in language, basic knowledge of the outside world, battle tactics and made to excessively exercise every single day. While he excelled in all physical abilities and strength tests he disappointed in the cognitive abilities. Learning all of these concepts, names, social abilities and facts never came easy to him. They tried everything they could: subconscious programming, electrical nerve stimulation, incentives, physical punishments - nothing would make him reach the cognitive abilities of Superman. He overheard the nervous staff members talking about how he was even below the average mental capabilities of normal humans and how worried they were that they would get punished for it.
And Lex Luthor knew it of course as well. He was incredibly disappointed with him. SK-0046 could see it in his fathers eyes whenever he looked at him through the window of his tank. He was a disappointment and no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he trained, that didn’t change.
He once heard one of the scientists that ran some tests on him say that he would never be a true match to Superman. Superman. The one name he had heard almost as often as his father's. He had learned about him in countless lessons. Superman was evil, Superman was a threat to all of humanity. And he was his clone.
Superman was the reason he existed. He had been created by his father to defeat this alien once and for all. Lex Luthor had sacrificed so much and put so much work into creating him. To give hope to humanity. But he was not good enough. He was the greatest possible disappointment as became clearer every single day. He was a shame. A disgrace.
Still, again and again Luthor came to him, looking at his naked shape, floating around helplessly in his tank, growing and aching and using up valuable resources. He looked at him brooding and frowning, impatiently, doubtful. It was in one of these moments that the young clone decided that he wanted to make his father proud no matter what. He was insufficient and unworthy to be alive but he had to, he just had to defeat Superman. Maybe then his father would finally think of him as something more than a disappointment.
***
“On your knees!”, he barked and Ultraman followed suit, not caring about the possibility of kneeling in some of the glass.
“Suck it. You can use your blood as lube now, can you”, Luthor said with that diabolical smile of his.
And Ultraman did what he was told. He kneeled before his father and gently grabbed his half-erect length at the base. His heart was racing and his nervousness increased. Being so close to his father and even touching him was still so new to him and always felt so very exciting and heartwarming, even if he wished he would not have to do such things with him.
He tried to push the feeling of unease as far away as he could for now, just focussing on the fact that his father allowed him now to prove his affection to him. He tenderly stroked his fathers testicles and base and placed sloppy kisses all over his penis, leaving bloody smears on it in the process.
His heart filled with pride and love as he heard his father moan full of lust in response. It felt easiest in moments like these to imagine that his father really did love him. Maybe not in the way he wanted but in some way, regardless. That Ultraman really had a worth and was meaningful to his father. That he was not just a pathetic mistake.
As always he gave it his all. Soon taking him into his mouth, doing everything that might be enjoyable for Mr. Luthor. He pleasured his father's cock diligently with his mouth and tongue, ignoring the sharp pain in it and the sickening taste of his own blood. Pain meant nothing. He meant nothing. His father was everything that mattered.
He eagerly worshiped Luthor's cock in every way he had learned until now, working tirelessly to make him moan with lust. He felt so so so lucky that he at least had this ability to make his father feel pleasure. The feelings of shame and disgust never fully went away when they did such things but he had to ignore that. He just had to make his father happy.
He was willing to make his father come in his mouth like so many times before but Luthor told him to stop long before this could happen. He pointed to the bed and Ultraman, instantly knowing what this meant, hurried over there and got onto it, positioning himself on his hands and knees and facing his ass towards his father. He heard Luthor strut towards him and casually grab one of the bottles of lube that lay around everywhere.
***
When he had been living almost a year it was finally time for him to leave his tank permanently. He was fully grown now, large and muscular, an adult or at least looking like one. When the day came that he stepped out of his tank for the last time ever his father came personally to greet him. It was then that Luthor for the first time looked into his eyes acknowledgingly, like he was a real person, not just a thing and that made his heart race with excitement.
“Good work everyone”, Luthor said towards his staff who sighed in relief and applauded. His blue eyes pierced into SK-0046’s eyes like blades. He spoke the first words he ever directed at him:
“From now on your name is Ultraman.”
Ultraman! A name! A real name! His name. His heart raced and he internally overflowed with joy and gratitude. He did not show it of course. Open expression of his feelings had been punished again and again by his instructors. Still he just had to say it.
“Thank you father”, he said and bowed his head.
After that the real training began. Because he was not adequate enough to defeat Superman with his own tactical decisions his ingenious father had analyzed Superman's fighting style and designed countless attack moves that would work against him. Ultraman had to memorize and instantaneously act them out when he was instructed. He was given a training suit that tracked all of his movements. Any mistakes were punished instantly with an electric shock that would knock a normal human unconscious. But he would not have needed this kind of motivation anyway. Mr. Luthor, his creator, his father, had given him a second chance to prove himself, to still be useful, and he was not going to disappoint him ever again.
Now in his adult form he was given some more privileges. His own room, occasional free time, selective media access, the opportunity to walk through the secret places of LuthorCorp on his own and fraternize with staff. But all he ever did when he had the opportunity was train. He devoted himself to it. He had only one dream: to one day make his father proud. To make his father love him. He doubted that he had it in him. He was just too imperfect. Yet he had to at least try.
***
Luthor suddenly pulled out the buttplug Ultraman wore which made the clone gasp. Ever since the first time that Luthor had fucked him he wore a buttplug most of the time to train his hole for his father and be ready for him. Ultraman immediately relaxed his anal muscles as he had practiced again and again. He knew his father would not waste any time on preparing him and just expected him to be ready. He heard the squeezing of the lube tube and Luthor's moans as he glazed his dick with it. Not for his slave's sake but to have a better experience for himself of course.
Luthor then unceremoniously rammed his cock into Ultraman's tight butthole, pushing inside mercilessly. The clone moaned both in pain and arousal, putting all of his concentration into relaxing his muscles and making himself accessible for his father. He had to prove his love to him in any way he could.
Luckily his control of his body had always been high and thus Luthor was able to fully glide into him after just a few seconds. The feeling of being so filled by him was painful, hot and heartwarming at the same time. Ultraman still could not believe that his father wanted to have sex with him. Yes, he was always fucking him harshly and aggressively, probably just enjoying to rape the spitting image of his bitter enemy. But Ultraman still liked to pretend that this was making love, that this was his father's way to show him that he loved him back. That he was proud of him.
***
It was another training session. One of the hardest. One of the best. His father had come personally to train him.
“46A”
Grab, pull, knee to the face.
“Faster! 29G”
Over shoulder throw, dislocating the shoulder.
“Too slow! 22D”
Kick, mock attack, upper cut.
“Too weak! Harder! 22D!”
Full force! Kick, mock attack, upper cut.
“I said harder you wimp! 22D!”
Everything he got! Kick, mock attack, upper cut.
“Yes finally! Again!”
Luthor made him execute the move again and again, throwing in other commands to test his concentration.
“22D! 37F! 6G! 22D! 30Y! 1A! 1A! 1A!”
The steel robot dummy he had fought against was completely destroyed and out of function at this point. Ultraman's fists, knees and elbows were red with his blood, his own force being the only thing that could really hurt him. But he hardly felt the pain. The excitement and praise in his father's voice was all he wanted, all he needed!
“Stop!”, his father commanded and he immediately stood still in salute, his breath and heart racing. Luthor came towards him, looking at his sweaty, muscular body that pulsed under his tight training suit. He looked at him with that strange mixture of admiration and disdain that Ultraman had so often seen in his eyes. The clone looked forward into the distance, not daring to directly look into his creator's eyes even though he longed so much for his appraisal.
“You truly are Superman's equal in physique”, Luthor said, fascinated, more to himself than to Ultraman. Then Ultraman suddenly felt Luthor's fingers gently caressing his jaw line. A shiver ran down his spine. This was the most tender touch by a person he had ever gotten in his life. The most beautiful thing he ever experienced. He tried to steady his breath and keep his face stony while he suppressed the tears of affection and joy that filled his eyes. Father!
“Look at me!”, Luthor commanded and he obeyed of course, finally reciprocating the intense gaze in Luthor's bright blue eyes. Ultraman felt incredibly nervous and hopeful at the same time. He loved it when his father treated him like a real person like this. Maybe he would one day be worthy to be called his son.
Lex Luthor looked at him with an array of conflicting and opposing emotions. Hate, for Ultraman was the perfect mirror image of his nemesis. Pride for his own ability and genius. And… something else. An expression Ultraman could not quite understand yet. It reminded him of the looks men gave attractive women in movies. A hunger that felt dangerous and possessive.
“Are you loyal to me, Ultraman?”, he asked, his voice low and threatening.
“Yes, father! I would do anything for you!”, Ultraman exclaimed, barely able to hide his deep felt emotions.
“Anything you say… What if I told you to kill yourself? Would you do that?”
“Yes of course, father! I will glady bleed and die for you!”, he said passionately.
Did his father still not know that he meant everything to him?! That he was his whole world?!
Luthor looked at him bewildered at first, then content. He seemed to realize the amount of success the conditioning of his clone had had.
“Good”, he said with ice in his eyes which made Ultraman's heart explode with joy. Good! His father had called something he had said good! He had praised him! Ultraman fought really hard to hold back his tears. This was the happiest day of his life!
***
Ultraman felt an unfamiliarly strong feeling of lust build up in him as Luthor mercilessly pounded into him, ramming his prostate again and again in the process. His own cock soon got hard and leaked precum as his heart was filled with confusion and longing. Tears streaked down his face by now. He loved his father so so much and he was as close to him now as he could ever be. Yet he knew by now, he felt that his father fucked him out of hatred for Superman. Not because he loved him in any way. He would never love him, how could he? He wasn't worthy, a total disappointment.
Luthor, noticing his crying and probably misinterpreting it, said something Ultraman would have never expected.
“Go ahead, touch yourself wimp!”
Ultraman was shocked and amazed. His father was allowing him pleasure?! He then touched his dick and pumped himself, quickly feeling his lust mounting. His fathers dick relentlessly rammed into him as he touched himself and then, suddenly, for the first time in his life he got an orgasm. He sighed loudly as he felt an ecstatic pleasure building up inside of him with force and his hot cum finally shooting out of his throbbing cock. It felt so great and it was all granted and given to him by his father!
His hole clenched involuntarily, bringing his father to the edge as well. Soon he heard and felt Luthor coming very hard with mercilessly deep and erratic thrusts. Feeling his fathers orgasm inside of him felt simultaneously very wrong and amazing. Helping his creator to satisfy his needs was its own reward to him. Something that he valued much more than his own pleasure. Maybe he could be worthy of his father's love after all.
***
Luthor came back to him again and again to train him. Ultraman was given his armour and allowed - when he was fully covered - to train outside for the first time, together with The Engineer and other fighter's of his father. He felt his father's gaze on him. Still oftentimes disappointed. Slightly disgusted and hateful because he looked so much like the enemy. But also with that strange hunger in his eyes that made Ultraman's skin tingle with excitement.
The first time Luthor called him to his luxurious office flat on his own felt like a dream come true. Ultraman felt elated, nervous, overjoyed to receive his fathers unshared attention. And not just for training! His father really wanted to spend time with him. When he was led to the office by a guard he imagined what his father might do with him.
He had seen some typical activities in movies. Maybe his father would have dinner with him and talk to him. Maybe he would read a story to him - though this seemed to be something done particularly with child sons. Maybe they would go fishing. Killing fish together somehow seemed to be a typical father-son-activity. He knew it was ridiculous and probably futile but he could not help but imagine his father smiling at him and giving him a hug. What would a hug feel like? He could only imagine.
When he finally arrived at the right door in the spacious flat and stepped in he found himself in a very bland room. It was a big room with dark, high walls. The sealing was glowing with a low, cold light that gave some scarce illumination. The black marble floor was reflecting the bluish light elegantly. There was no furniture safe for a huge bed with a dark grey sheet. Luthor stood in the middle of the room, wearing all black. Ultraman came to him nervously, suddenly feeling like this was a test again. Maybe this would be yet another training session.
“Stop!”, Luthor commanded as he was a few steps away from him.
His cold gaze was the most hungry and threatening Ultraman had ever seen on him. It made a shiver run down his spine.
“Undress”, Luthor said coldly, not giving any reasons for it.
Ultraman obeyed without hesitation and without even thinking about why he had been given this command. He was created to serve. He took off his clothes quickly, peace by peace and because Luthor never told him to stop he undressed until he was nude.
Luthor inhaled sharply, something between anger and lust rushing over his face but said nothing for now.
Ultraman suddenly felt like he had in his childhood, when he was floating in the tank naked. When he was still only called SK-0046 and looked at like the strange experiment that he was. Back then his father had been the only one that had stayed and had really looked at him. His father that had given him life. His father that had given him freedoms and his name, despite his inadequacy. His father that he was built for to serve. His father that he would gladly die for.
Luthor stepped closer, right in front of him. His eyes dark and scary, impossible to read. Ultraman wondered for a moment if his father had made him come here to kill him. To destroy this imperfect work of his and start the project from scratch again. This was always a possibility of course.
“You look just like him. Like this filthy Marsian Superman”, he hissed with venom in his eyes.
“But you are not he. You are mine!”, he exclaimed and suddenly grabbed him by the throat, digging his nails into his skin. Ultraman flinched at the sudden touch, feeling more and more afraid and confused. He did not know what his father meant, what he could need to be pleased now and that deeply troubled him.
“How can I serve you, father?”, he asked with difficulty, hoping that it was not an impudence of him to speak now.
“By doing everything I command!”, Luthor said and let his fingers dig even deeper into his throat, choking him. It would have been the easiest thing to resist the human man's touch but this thought never even crossed Ultraman's mind. He would gladly have his father choke him to death if that was what pleased him. But to his surprise his father loosened his grip. He moved his hand lower to his chest. Ultraman expected that his father would hurt him in other ways next.
But instead Luthor began caressing Ultraman's chest tenderly all of a sudden. The surprising touch felt so incredibly gentle, warm and good that Ultraman sighed heavily. He felt all fuzzy and longing again. Did this mean that his father liked him? Luthor observed his reaction, curious what Ultraman would do. The clone closed his eyes, afraid that his affection would be too obvious.
Lex Luthor was not done with him though, he was just getting started. He was caressing and squeezing Ultraman's body with curiosity, making him gasp and sigh at the unfamiliar sensations. When his father's hand reached his pubic hair his eyes shot open again.
He only had a very basic knowledge of such things but he had learned that the touching of other people's genitals was usually considered sexual and not appropriate in public, except for medical procedures. Was that something fathers did with sons too? He was not entirely sure. The thought came to his mind that Luthor did not in fact see him as a son but he pushed this thought far away quickly. These were intimate, gentle touches. It surely had to mean that his father cared for him deeply.
The next things Luthor did even further confused him. Luthor caressed his member with tender and skillful strokes. He carefully observed Ultraman's reaction, seemingly looking for any signs of rebellion or protest in the clone. But that was the furthest from Ultraman's mind. The feeling was breathtaking and amazing. In his short life and the even shorter span in that he had had some level of privacy and free time such a thing - touching himself sexually - had never even crossed Ultraman's mind. It would have been a waste of time and entirely undeserved. So this shockingly sensual touching of his penis, this intimate touch by a human being - by his beloved father! - designed just to make him feel good was amazing, unbelievable.
His member reacted and for the first time ever he got an erection. Ultraman felt himself lose control over his face quickly, he could not hide his shock and amazement anymore. Yet somehow he also felt deeply ashamed. It felt… wrong. Much too close, much too personal, even though it was clearly ridiculous to think of himself as someone who deserved dignity or control over his own body. These feelings of shame and doubt were clearly just signs of his inherent imperfection. His father was caressing him and making him feel good. He should of course be grateful, deeply grateful.
Suddenly Luthor took his hand away, leaving his skin feel cold and denied. The yearning for stimulation Ultraman felt now was so strong that he even thought about touching himself for a millisecond. He immediately berated himself for that in his thoughts. Seeking pleasure was not his purpose. His purpose was to be used.
“Whom do you belong to?”, Luthor asked coldly.
“You, father”, Ultraman said shakily, insecure, confused that Mr. Luther demanded him to affirm his loyalty over and over again when the only thing that he honestly had ever wanted was to please his father. Was he still not showing his loyalty sufficiently?
Luthor's tongue quickly shot out to lick his lips. An unmistakable look of desire was in his eyes now.
“You will learn to satisfy me”, he said in a low, threatening voice but Ultraman did not feel fear, only gratitude.
***
From then on Mr. Luthor made his creation come to this special room again and again to use him. Ultraman was as eager as in any task he was given. He did not have sexual feelings for his father, he still wanted to really be worthy to be his son. But this was what his father wanted so he gave it his all. He followed every direction and instruction his father gave and tried to get better at guessing what kind of stimulation his father would want next. He started to watch pornography to get accustomed to sexual practices. And he tried touching himself a few times to get a feeling of what could feel good for his father. It felt weird and wrong though. To give himself pleasure. He stopped early enough any time, not feeling himself worthy for real satisfaction. His body, mind and soul belonged to his father. His ability to please Mr. Luthor was, as he knew, the only real justification for him to live.
***
Afterwards Luthor as per usual didn't look at him. He waited impatiently as Ultraman quickly got dressed again to leave.
“Come to the training ground one hour earlier tomorrow, we must intensify your training. The time to fight Superman is coming soon”, he said coolly, not in the slightest showing any tenderness towards the clone.
“Yes father, of course”, he replied and bowed his head obediently. Luthor turned his back on him to go to the other direction to his private rooms.
Suddenly Ultraman could not repress the urge to say it any longer.
“I love you father”, he said, immediately biting his still bleeding tongue afterwards.
Luthor stopped for a short moment, taking in what Ultraman had just said to him. Ultraman's heart raced. Would his father shout at him angrily now? Or would he… turn around and hug him as he had always dreamed of?
But Luthor did neither. He just resumed walking away, not acknowledging his words at all. He did not care for the feelings of a worthless clone, of course. That meant nothing to him. Ultraman felt tears building up in his eyes again. Why did something that he already knew still hurt so much?
But he hoped… no he knew that there was a way to make his father like him one day. He had to defeat Superman! This was his purpose, this was why he was made. This was what he needed to do to make his father proud. To one day make him love him.