Date: Wed, 25 Aug 2021 20:32:33 +0000 (UTC)
From: ropingtop@aol.com
Subject: The capture of Superman's protege - instalment 1 - authoritarian/science fiction-fantasy

Writer's note:  this story is fiction .  Any similarities in names,
locations, and so forth are purely coincidental.  There is absolutely no
connection whatsoever to any story published previously via any means,
including television comic books, movies, etc.


Bolt threw his laser gun out over the fence.  It was empty, as anyone
could have guessed from the last weak shot he had directed at the
Locadians massed outside.
"You win.  I surrender.  Stop firing!"  He called out.  In response, he
heard Lex Luthor's voice.

"Then step outside the gate, Bolt, with your hands up.  NO TRICKS."  Lex
was beginning to gloat.  He already had Superman and now, he had his
protege'.

"Ok Lex.  Ok.  Bolt, the name that Mike Mancuso had taken when he had
graduated from the superhero academy, walked out to the front of the
wall, frustrated, bruised and captured.  He saw Lex pointing a laser at
him.
"You worked in law enforcement, Mancuso, assume the position."
Bolt took a deep breath.  He had called him "Mancuso."  How the hell did
he know?  How deep did Luthor's spies go?
VERY deep his mentor Superman could have told him.  He hadn't because his
warning to Bolt had been clear.  At least Superman thought it was.
"If something happens to me, if Lex wins, don't come looking.  You're not
ready.  You won't be for a while. "  Bolt had heard, but he hadn't
listened.  This was before the battle between the two of them - the one
Bolt had seen while locked in a crystal cage, where Luthor had gotten
Superman into a choke hold and, in a bitter fight, slipped a kryptonite
collar around his neck.  Once that was done, Superman had weakened
quickly.  The sleeper hold Lex had put on him had its effect.  Before
long, the man of s steel had his wrists bound behind him, his ankles
tied, and was riding on top of Lex' shoulder as Lex headed to his
supersonic jet.  He turned to the cage where Bolt was trapped.
"The salt crystals will dissolve as soon as it rains, boy blunder.  Then
you'll be free."  He patted superman's ass.  "Too bad your pal won't be.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHA."
That was the last time Bolt had seen his mentor.

Mike Mancuso had been a rookie police officer when the Academy of
Superheroes had formed.  Names we all recognize:  Superman, Batman,
Flash, Golden Arrow, Wonder Woman, etc, had formed the Academy.  Not
everyone knows that not every superhero is immortal.  Wonder Woman was,
and Superman PROBABLY was, but there was no way of knowing what impact
exposure to kryptonite would have on his lifespan.  The other heroes,
extraordinary human beings, but human beings nonetheless, would age. It
was something they all faced and, in order to make sure that their legacy
was passed down, had formed an academy to train young men and women to
fill in when they were... gone.
Mancuso had enrolled immediately.  He had fought to get on the police
force, and it had been a struggle.  He was just above the height
requirement, he was just above the minimum weight, his grades were just
high enough, and he was reminded of his marginal status just about every
day.  What he lacked in factors that everyone considered important, he
made up for in bravery, in craftiness, in so many unmeasurable qualities
that he was doing well. Except no one noticed.  There were no
requirements at the Academy.  He passed the basic strength tests, the
speed tests,  and everything else they had thrown at him for admission.
Passed them?  He ACED them.  He WAS afraid that he would be rejected at
his final interview.  His committee was Wonder Woman, Flash, and Robin.
He needn't have worried.  He sat down opposite them and Wonder Woman, who
was chairing the committee asked.
"Do you have any questions, Mike?"
His answer was "uh, no. "  She smiled.
"Then congratulations.  Class starts on Monday at 7 a.m.  We'll see
you."
Now he did have questions.
"Uh.  You're not concerned about my height?"  The three of them looked at
each other.
"No.  Should we be?"
"Well, everyone else always has been so."  Flash cracked a smile.
"The academy isn't everyone else, Mike.  Either you'll make it, or you
won't.  " He looked at Robin.
"How tall are you, Robin?"
"5'7"
"REALLY? " Mike blurted out.  "You look so much taller."  Robin began to
laugh.
"Batman taught me about confidence and swagger.  It's something you'll
learn here."
"But...my grades..."
Now it was Flash's turn:  "Know what my GPA was?"
"Uh, no."
"2.85"
"HUH?  And ...."
"And you learn on the job.  Your aptitude tests say you can."
"If that's all Mike, we have a few more candidates to talk to today.  We
all teach at the Academy.  We'll all see you."
And that was it.  He resigned from the police force, packed a bag and
moved in to the Academy grounds with 75 other young men and women.
It was grueling.  They weren't kidding when they said 7am.  Classes for
the beginners ran for ten hours every day. Not Monday to Friday:  EVERY
day.  Classes in physical training, like climbing walls, rope climbing,
breath control, and also classes in strategy: how to figure your way out
of a trap, how to resist interrogation, etc.    Of the 76 recruits, they
were down to 45 after 6 months.  That's when the students were assigned
mentors.  They found out who those mentors were, when the mentors showed
up.  And one night, just as Mike was getting ready for bed,  there was a
knock on his door.  Mike gulped when he looked up.  It was Superman.
"I'm looking for Mike Mancuso?"
"Uh, that's me, Superman."  Superman smiled.
"Well, Mike Mancuso, I'll be mentoring you from now on.  I enjoyed
teaching you in my classes (Superman had taught hand to hand fighting and
also judo), and you had more heart than anyone else there." He smiled.
Remember when you won the boxing tournament.
Mike smiled.  He had worked so hard.  He had done all of the extra
exercises that Superman had assigned.  Every one of his victories was
considered an upset.  And in the final, had there been betting (of course
there had been betting), if you wagered on Mike, every dollar got you 200
dollars back.  He had been matched against the biggest guy in the
school:  6'6", 250, with muscles that had muscles.  The fight had gone on
for about four hours before Mike had won.
Superman (and Flash), had taught him that when you met an opponent much
bigger than you were, use your skills.  However "short" he was on others,
Mike was fast.  And he could spot weaknesses.  He let the bigger guy
think he was gonna win, but slowly tired him out, and then, after about 3
hours of careful observation, he observed something about the way his
opponent punched with his left hand.  He left an opening where someone
with a fast snap kick could get in.
And that's how Mike had gotten in.  Both Superman and Flash had been
impressed.  They had both wanted to mentor.  It came down to a toss of a
coin.  And now, Mike would be teamed with Superman for the last six
months of the program.
At graduation,  each of the remaining 32 students had met with the full
committee to decide on a "super " identity and a "super"  uniform.  Mike
remembered that meeting vividly.
"You have so much speed Mike, that something that moves fast, well, that
needs to be in your name."
"But also.. when you attack, your attack is strong, and focused and...
it's hard to recover."   The committee had decided on "Bolt,"  because of
the connection to lightning, and also to electricity in general.  His
constume:  almost solid black, except for the dark green mask.  And of
course, on the front of his jersey, a golden yellow "B."

After the year, the graduates began apprenticing with their mentors.
That's how Bolt learned that, while Superman could take out just about
every villain they faced.  Luthor always managed to escape.  And he
frequently seemed like a match for Superman.  Bolt had come across a
bound and gagged Superman at least three times, as Luthor flew off.
What Bolt didn't know was that Superman was gay.  And submissive.  Luthor
had figured it out.  A little kryptonite, a few words about what he would
do to Superman if he had the chance, and he had Superman every time, much
to Superman's chagrin.
"Develop Bolt.  DEVELOP.  Luthor doesn't know you the way he does me.
You'll surpass me.  You'll bring him down."
What Superman didn't know was that Luthor had used the same means he did
in delving into Superman's background to delve into Bolt's.  Finding
Superman's alter ego was easy.  Once he knew that, Luthor was able to
track down and "milk" any  man Clark Kent had dated for information about
him. He had assumed, correctly, that anything he learned about Clark Kent
applied to Superman as well.  All of it culminated in that battle, where
Superman, much to Bolt's helpless distress, had knelt before Luthor, put
his hands behind his back and said  "I yield Sir.  I yield to my
Master."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"  Bolt had yelled from the
cage as Luthor smiled.  Now, Superman spent his time as a captive in
Luthor's headquarters on the asteroid behind Mars.  Luthor milked him at
least once a week, fucked him at least once a day, and displayed him to
his allies and friends whenever possible.
Luthor's techniques had led him to find out that Bolt - Mike Mancuso -
had the background in law enforcement.  He also turned one of Mike's key
assets - his focus - against him.  It was the easiest trick in the book,
Luthor had gloated, when he told Superman how he had rendered Bolt
helpless, allowing  him to capture the man of steel:  Bolt was chasing
one of Luthor's lead henchman and was catching him, when the clouds
crystallized into a cage made of salt.  Salt is, surprisingly, one of the
hardest of all minerals, and Bolt, without super powers, had no means to
escape.  Only water could break the cage, and it wasn't until it fell,
out of the sky and away from the battle, that it had melted and Bolt had
escaped.
And Superman, his mentor, his friend, was gone.

And now, he had fallen into ANOTHER one of Luthor's traps, together with
six other of the academy graduates.  Word had "leaked" about a  planned
attempt to steal a large cache of nuclear material:  enough for at least
100 bombs.  Most of the new graduates, as well as most of the resident
senior superheroes, were on guard there.  The ten who were left, were
called when what seemed to be a minor jewelry heist was going on.  Luthor
seemed to be involved.
"Luthor?  Why would he want jewelry? "  was a question on everyone's
mind.  It was  Bolt who thought:  "were those emeralds, rubies,
sapphires, actually different forms of kryptonite?
They weren't, but the false lead was enough.  Luthor wasn't after the
gems:  he was after the young superheroes.  Luthor had a taste for
beefier men like superman, but many of his allies preferred younger,
slimmer men. One ally in particular. Vulpus, found Bolt "one of the
tastiest bits of manhood I've ever seen."  He had promised Luthor a
million stellar credits if he could bring him in.  And that is where we
are now:  all of the others had been captured.  Bolt had been the last
one, until he had been led into one more trap: he THOUGHT he knew where
his mentor was being held, and walked right into it.

Now, as Luthor did a VERY thorough pat down, and pulled Bolt's wrists
behind him roughly.  all Bolt could do was grunt.
"YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS LUTHOR."  Luthor laughed.  "That's exactly
what  your buddy said."  Then he leaned in and whispered into the ear of
the helpless Bolt.  "Before I fucked him.  THE FIRST TIME."
"BASTARD .  YOU DIDN'T FUCK SUPERMAN. YOU'RE LYING."  Luthor laughed. "I
did, and I do.  And you're going to watch.  Before I turn you over to
your new owner."  Then, he threw Bolt over his shoulder, the same way he
had done it to Superman, and carried Bolt off to his plane. Squirming,
but helpless, Bolt was on his way to a meeting with his mentor, and his
new owner.