FIC: "Lavender" (SV, 1/1, NC-17, Clois)
Lavender
NC-17 femmeslash, femme!Clark/Lois, future Clois
A couple of months after “Gemini”: Bizarro is no longer a concern; Clark and Lana are no longer together; Lois is finally getting her act together.
Thanks to havocthecat, xenokattz, kalalanekent, voldything, moonshayde, and tobywolf13, for encouraging this insanity (especially kalalanekent, who gets extra bonus points for frequent encouragement).
Summary: Purple Kryptonite turns Clark into a girl. Lois finds this incredibly hot. You can guess what happens next.
Lavender
Smallville
2008
Clark Kent made a surprisingly beautiful girl, Lois decided.
She didn’t really ask questions - experience taught her that Clark and Chloe generally didn’t have many of those to offer when weird things happened - but she gave up her spot on the couch and just stood there as Chloe convinced Clark to stay put in the apartment:
“Chloe, I really should-”
“You don’t want Impulse to see you like this, do you?”
“Oh, god.”
“Exactly. So hang tight and I’ll help the guys get things done, and I’ll be back ASAP and we’ll go to your place and we’ll get some green kay and everything will be fine.”
“You really think that’ll work?”
Chloe shrugged; Lois was still stuck on whatever ‘green kay’ might be. Not that she was eavesdropping or anything. “Worked with all the other colors before, y’know, to make you sweat it out,” Chloe replied, “so why not purple?”
Clark wrinkled her - his - nose. “Lavender.”
“Lavender?”
“At this rate we’ll run out of colors and we might need ‘purple’ later,” Clark said, sounding melancholy.
Chloe shrugged again. “Okay. But promise me you’ll stay put? Freaked out and suffering testosterone withdrawal doesn’t exactly help with the heroics.”
Clark sighed. “Fine. Promise.” He paused. “You don’t think this is Jor-El’s latest punishment, do you?”
Chloe sputtered. “Only a guy could think being a girl is punishment from on high. Well, except maybe a day or three each month.”
Lois smiled to herself when she heard Chloe add that, but it took a few moments for Clark to realize what she meant, and his eyes went wide, clearly horrified at the thought. “Green kay. The first second you can after the heroics are over,” he said insistently.
Still smiling a little, Lois wondered what kind of heroics they could possibly be talking about, but before she could devote any serious thought to it, Chloe drew her aside. “Can you stay with Clark until I get back?”
She shouldn’t have been surprised at the earnest look in her cousin’s eyes, but she was. “Of course,” Lois replied. “What the hell happened?”
“Smallville weirdness strikes again,” Chloe said, trying but failing to sound light-hearted. “But seriously - Clark will be fine later, when I come back and take him home and everything, but until then - freaking out is to be expected.”
“You think you have a cure for sudden gender reassignment?” Lois asked skeptically.
Chloe gave her an indecisive look. “Like I said, Smallville weirdness, and you know I’m an expert on it.” She glanced back at Clark. “There’s been tons of freaking out already and I’d love to brief you on every little detail, but I need to hurry.”
That said, Chloe was gone and Lois was let with a Clark Kent too beautiful to be completely human. At this rate, everyone in Smallville was going to be a meteor mutant. She sat down at the other end of the couch and tried to look at Clark in a way that was not entirely staring.
“You don’t seem too weirded out by this,” Clark said. His new voice was a pleasant, clear alto.
Lois shrugged. “In the last two months I’ve found out my ex-boyfriend is a Luthorcorp clone and my cousin can magically heal people. You suddenly turning up with organs on the inside instead of the outside is a logical progression.”
Clark stared at her with an incredulous look. “You’re crazy, Lois.”
“Takes one to know one, I guess.”
Clark didn’t reply to that, turning to stare into the fire instead, and Lois took the opportunity to look. Clark was still tall, but tall for a woman rather than a man, like her. Still had dark hair, and a weird nose, and strong shoulders. His masculine clothes draped on him, too big everywhere but maybe his breasts and - she thought back to how it had all looked when he and Chloe’d first arrived - hips. Somewhere along the way he’d misplaced his shoes (work boots, knowing him) and his socks were pooling at his ankles. His face was prettier than before, very simply just more feminine from the side. If she wasn’t certain that he’d freak out even worse, she’d take a picture for posterity.
“Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any weirder,” Clark said morosely; Lois wasn’t sure what he meant by that - weird things happened in Smallville, of course, but the Kents were downright normal - but she reached out and put her hand on his arm, going out of her way for once to be nice. “Chloe thinks everything will work out,” she told him. “And you know she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t believe it.”
Clark seemed to stiffen at the contact, but when she started to life her arm, worried that he was getting too weirded out by everything, his free hand clamped down on it and held her there. She looked up. “Clark?” she asked, daring to try to meet his eyes - fringed even more prettily, if that was even possible, now that he was a girl. She was surprised by his grin, too glad and catlike and sly to be normal. And then he looked up from staring at her hand on him, his eyes full of heat, and he said, “Your hand is so warm.”
She frowned; something wasn’t right about the way he said it. “Are you okay, Clark?” she asked. Was this more Smallville weirdness, or what?
“I still think about it sometimes,” he said.
“Think about what?”
“The night you don’t remember,” he replied, one side of his smiling mouth rising into a smirk. “I lied. I remember every moment.”
There were two nights, actually, that she didn’t remember, but only one that he would have lied about: the one that had ended with crashing the Luthor-Lang engagement party. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Why did you lie about it?” Questions were good, right? Keep him talking and maybe Chloe’d be back before he got any weirder.
“Because normally I’m too busy chasing Lana to admit how hot you are,” he answered. The matter-of-fact tone made her shiver. “And how much fun we had,” he added. “We really should have had a lot more.”
Clearly the transformation had rattled his brain. “Really,” she said, but she couldn’t even lie to herself: the sarcasm was defensive. “You and me, and fun.”
His smirk grew. “Let me prove it to you,” he said and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her.
Oh.
My.
God.
She was robbed of higher brain function for several moments - not so much the fact that he was kissing her, or that he was technically female at that moment, but how good the kiss was, on a level with the Green Arrow kiss a year earlier. It was passionate and hungry and - once she started to think again and began to reciprocate - about as close to sex as you could get with just two mouths. She was panting for air when he finally broke the kiss and leaned forward. She felt his hot breath on her ear. “Ever had sex with another girl?” he asked.
Her shock at hearing Clark Kent ask so blunt a question must have explained her answer, and everything that followed: not “What’s wrong with you, Clark?” or “Like it’s any of your business!” but a simple, solid, breathy “Yes.”
He chuckled, like he didn’t believe her. “Really?”
“Really,” she affirmed, mad at his challenge. She was telling the truth: she’d just turned sixteen and the other girl had initiated it, but she’d gone along out of a mixture of honest curiosity and a need for something new to get the General’s attention. But when he’d found out, he’d simply said, “At least you won’t get pregnant,” and she’d gone back to trying his patience with boys. It was a rare woman that she found that hot, but damn if this femme Clark Kent wasn’t one of them.
He laughed again. “Prove it,” he whispered.
Lois Joanne Lane didn’t usually back down from a challenge. This wasn’t going to be one of those times.
Clark had brought his head back, smirking as though certain she wouldn’t follow through, and she smirked back at him, determined to prove him wrong. She pushed him away until he was nearly on his back and then pounced, kissing him. He seemed surprised but pleased, participatory, and he didn’t fight when she started to pull up his T-shirt. His skin was warm under it, and soft, and his new femininity was made real by the round, brown-tipped breasts she found where hard muscle had once been. She broke the kiss watching as Clark pulled his shirt over his head. His breasts danced with the movement, large but firm and natural and beautiful. He didn’t seem disturbed by their unveiling - another oddity of the evening that she wouldn’t register until later, too caught up to recognize it and to remember that Clark was generally modest, especially for a guy - and she didn’t hesitate to touch them. She ran her fingers over them, taking in their size - about the same as hers - and the crinkling of the dark areolae as the nipples began to harden in excitement. Clark began to breathe faster at her touch. She took it as encouragement and, thinking on what she liked, experimentally rolled one nipple between her fingers.
He gasped, but once again grabbed her hand when she began to pull away. “Do that again,” he ordered, and she did. She did anything and everything that came to mind, rubbing and rolling and massaging with her fingers and her palms, first one side and then the other, and then both at the same time and was half surprised to see, feel, hear him shudder suddenly in climax and then slacken a little under her.
Lois sighed, feeling envious. It figured that the one guy to cross the gender divide and come through with completely natural girl parts would end up one of those few women to come just from someone playing with their breasts. That, or it was so new that anything would have been enough.
She didn’t give him much time to recover before continuing. Taking advantage of his momentary break with reality, she drew her hands down his abdomen and quickly unbuttoned and then unzipped his jeans. They and the masculine underwear that hid underneath remained in place only by virtue of his wide - dare she even think ‘child-bearing’? - hips. She slipped her right hand inside, drawing a line south from his navel, and found what she was looking for. She grinned; she’d half expected to find something more obviously phallic and male, despite every other indication that Clark Kent was now a complete, fully-functional woman. She pushed a little further, wetting her fingers and then, deliberately, once, and suddenly, she touched his clitoris.
He - she, really; Clark was a woman now, entire - jumped. “What was that?” she - Clark - growled.
Lois watched Clark as she touched her again, saw her react again, more subtly this time, as if still wanting to believe she was in control. Lois knew better. “I heard what you said to Chloe,” she said, slowly running her free hand over Clark’s stomach and sides. “That being turned into a girl was a punishment. You feel that?” She touched the nub a third time. “That’s your clit, Clark. They say babies all start out girls, but if it’s a boy the nerves and the skin and veins stretch out and turn into a penis. But with girls, it all stays put. Guys’ll stick their dick into anything just to feel it. But girls…” She met Clark’s eyes. “Just think about it - all the nerves bundled up together, one little, special spot.”
Clark’s eyes darkened at the suggestion - mission complete. “Lois-” she said, but Lois cut her off: “I’m not done.”
Clark narrowed her eyes, a seething kind of anger or rebellion in them. Lois didn’t think she’d ever seen anything hotter. It took effort to continue the lesson:
“Penetration can be nice,” she said. “Most women like it, if it’s done right.” She suddenly slipped her hand down and under, between the slickened folds, and watched Clark squirm at the sudden intrusion of Lois’s finger inside her. “But on their own, a lot of girls go straight for this and nothing else.”
Her fingers returned to Clark’s clit and pressed, rubbing hard, and - remembering the earlier reactions - brought her other hand to Clark’s nipple. The new girl shuddered almost immediately. It was almost too easy, but at this point she didn’t care. Lois, two - Clark, zero.
Lois wasn’t sure what to do next, but at some point Clark’s pants were going to come off, so she pulled at them, revealing strong, muscled thighs, models from life for those artists who drew the Legendary Lady comics she’d liked when she was a kid. The skin wasn’t bare: it was lightly dusted with hair, but it made sense; this was Clark as a woman, completely natural, without any artifice or modification.
But before she could think of her next strategy, Lois found herself suddenly on her own back, almost six feet of Kansas farmgirl straddling her, naked and panting. She knew meteor-affected people could be damn strong, but Clark had been fast, too, managing to strip herself completely bare, socks and all, in seconds, and to push her back besides. Clark’s dark hair, only a smidgen longer than before, hung over her eyes, but there was no mistaking the look of unfulfilled determination in them. It gave Lois a secret thrill that she’d rattled Clark so much. It was unbelievably arousing.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” Clark said in a sultry tone. “Making me come?” She smirked and then kissed her so hard that Lois finally understood what romance writers meant by ‘bruised lips’: it was meant to be taken literally.
She breathed hard when Clark released her, too turned on to care about lack of air, and shivered as Clark leaned in to whisper in her ear again. “Just imagine, all the things I’ve ever fantasized about doing, I’m gonna do to you, all the things I’ve never done to anyone else. I’m going to do everything you did to me, and then some.” She hadn’t even noticed Clark’s hand finding its way into her shirt until then, fingers reaching her nipple and pinching it lightly, as if to emphasize what Clark had just said.
“By the way,” Clark added as Lois’s entire body raised another degree, “I like your new ring. Red’s my favorite color.”
Lois didn’t have time to think about what Clark had said before the other hand found its way to her own clit and began to play.
She woke up completely naked, smelling of sex and feeling gross with dried-on sweat. She tiptoed to the bathroom, not bothering to cover up: they were past that point, she figured, leaving Clark asleep on the ground. They never quite made it to the bed.
Clark was still a girl, and a quick glance at her cell phone told her they hadn’t slept through any calls from Chloe.
She took her time, thinking about the evening’s unexpected turn. There was something not right about what had happened: since when was Clark Kent so aggressive, especially in a sexual way, and having just been turned into a girl on top of that? She should have been too weirded out to form sentences. It had been hot, but not normal, as far as she knew. She let the hot water ease the sore spots from sleeping on the floor, determined not to let anything more happen until she was sure Clark was in her right mind.
But Clark wasn’t there.
Chloe, however, was. “Uh…” her cousin said, taking in the scene, and now Lois saw the room with refreshed eyes: the couch pillows on the floor, the chenille throw hanging off the coffee table, her clothes scattered. “Okay,” Chloe finally continued. “I was going to ask what happened, but I don’t think I want to know. Where’s Clark?”
“I don’t know,” Lois said, glad that she’d at least slipped on her bathrobe. The resolution to behave herself once she left the shower had been a really, really good idea. “She must have left while I was in the shower.”
Chloe blinked. “Okay,” she said slowly. And then, suddenly, she grabbed Lois’s hand. “Where did you get that ring?”
“At the craft fair in Granville last week,” Lois replied, a little surprised. What did jewelry have to do with anything? “You’re the one who dragged me there. What does that have to do with our disappearing genderbender?”
“Everything, if you were wearing it earlier, too,” Chloe told her - and then, almost as if she had super-speed, too, slipped it from her finger. “Hey!” Lois said. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get you a new one,” Chloe told her, sprinting over to the dresser and pulling something from the bottom drawer. Lois only caught the glimmer of something green and glowing as Chloe slipped her ring inside the container before putting it all into her purse. “I better go find him,” Chloe said, almost to herself. “Don’t wait up for me.”
And with that, Chloe left.
Sleep finally came for Lois hours later, the apartment back in order from their escapades, about five minutes after Lois admitted to herself that she found guy Clark as hot as girl Clark, and she’d’ve had sex with him almost as quickly as she’d done her.
Metropolis
Some years later
“Wait, what color Kryptonite was that? Pink?”
He blushed - not something Superman did very often these days - and said, “Lavender. Well, purple, really. The pink stuff-”
“The pink stuff what?” she demanded, watching him squirm under her gaze. “You know I’m going to force it out of you eventually, Smallville.”
He winced. “Batman made me swear never to speak of it again.”
If ever there had been a time to have a hard surface to bash her head against… “It made you gay, didn’t it.”
He nodded.
She sighed and let herself fall back onto the pillows. “I swear to god, some days I think I live in a comic book,” she said. “You didn’t have sex with Batman, did you?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, god, no. I was, um, more in control. With you, it was kind of an accident.”
“An accident. Like us right now,” she said shortly, getting angry, “with me figuring out the truth.”
“What I mean is,” he said, backpedaling, “that there was another kind of Kryptonite that accidentally entered the picture. Red Kryptonite, to be exact.”
“Just how many colors are there?” she said, a little incredulous. “And how did you go from being freaked out oh-my-god-I’m-a-girl with the purple stuff to let’s-have-hot-lesbian-sex-with-Lois with the red stuff?”
He laughed. “Red Kryptonite’s like a drug. It makes me lose control. I get aggressive, and, well, horny. It was in that ring you were wearing.”
Lois slapped her palm to her forehead. “That’s why Chloe took it. She knew.”
“Yeah, she knew pretty much everything. It wasn’t the first time I’d gone wild on red kay. I generally do things I end up regretting, and you know me and regret - that’s why she spent the night with me, to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid or rash. She’s why I stayed around a whole month before I left. Otherwise I would have gone straight up to the Fortress and started my training without even saying goodbye to anyone, the minute I was, well, a guy again.”
“Did you?” she asked. “Regret it, I mean?”
“At the time? Yes,” he explained, “but only because I was confused.”
“You did run away every time I entered the room before you left,” she said, remembering. “Like you were scared of me.”
He grinned. “You were pretty scary. You made me enjoy being a girl for a couple of hours. That’s not supposed to happen. Plus, the sex had been pretty awesome.”
She smirked and looked at him, turning her head slightly. “I don’t suppose there’s any of the purple stuff laying around somewhere, is there? You’d change back, right?” She was teasing, and she was sure he knew that, but - that night had given her fantasy material for years.
He gave her a calculated look. “You’re pretty scary these days, too, you know,” he told her. “But I think I remember everything I learned that night, regardless what I am right this second. Mind if I show you?”
And with that he dove under the blankets. As much as anyone over six feet could just ‘dive under’.
Lois squealed at the unexpected contact. If she had to live in a comic book, at least it was one of the good ones, with sex and everything.
And really hot aliens.
In the split second before he distracted her beyond reasoning, she suddenly remembered what else she’d bought with the ring that day - not that she’d ever need red Kryptonite to have sex with Clark Kent, aka Superman, ever again. But:
She still had the earrings that matched.
[END]
NC-17 femmeslash, femme!Clark/Lois, future Clois
A couple of months after “Gemini”: Bizarro is no longer a concern; Clark and Lana are no longer together; Lois is finally getting her act together.
Thanks to havocthecat, xenokattz, kalalanekent, voldything, moonshayde, and tobywolf13, for encouraging this insanity (especially kalalanekent, who gets extra bonus points for frequent encouragement).
Summary: Purple Kryptonite turns Clark into a girl. Lois finds this incredibly hot. You can guess what happens next.
Lavender
Smallville
2008
Clark Kent made a surprisingly beautiful girl, Lois decided.
She didn’t really ask questions - experience taught her that Clark and Chloe generally didn’t have many of those to offer when weird things happened - but she gave up her spot on the couch and just stood there as Chloe convinced Clark to stay put in the apartment:
“Chloe, I really should-”
“You don’t want Impulse to see you like this, do you?”
“Oh, god.”
“Exactly. So hang tight and I’ll help the guys get things done, and I’ll be back ASAP and we’ll go to your place and we’ll get some green kay and everything will be fine.”
“You really think that’ll work?”
Chloe shrugged; Lois was still stuck on whatever ‘green kay’ might be. Not that she was eavesdropping or anything. “Worked with all the other colors before, y’know, to make you sweat it out,” Chloe replied, “so why not purple?”
Clark wrinkled her - his - nose. “Lavender.”
“Lavender?”
“At this rate we’ll run out of colors and we might need ‘purple’ later,” Clark said, sounding melancholy.
Chloe shrugged again. “Okay. But promise me you’ll stay put? Freaked out and suffering testosterone withdrawal doesn’t exactly help with the heroics.”
Clark sighed. “Fine. Promise.” He paused. “You don’t think this is Jor-El’s latest punishment, do you?”
Chloe sputtered. “Only a guy could think being a girl is punishment from on high. Well, except maybe a day or three each month.”
Lois smiled to herself when she heard Chloe add that, but it took a few moments for Clark to realize what she meant, and his eyes went wide, clearly horrified at the thought. “Green kay. The first second you can after the heroics are over,” he said insistently.
Still smiling a little, Lois wondered what kind of heroics they could possibly be talking about, but before she could devote any serious thought to it, Chloe drew her aside. “Can you stay with Clark until I get back?”
She shouldn’t have been surprised at the earnest look in her cousin’s eyes, but she was. “Of course,” Lois replied. “What the hell happened?”
“Smallville weirdness strikes again,” Chloe said, trying but failing to sound light-hearted. “But seriously - Clark will be fine later, when I come back and take him home and everything, but until then - freaking out is to be expected.”
“You think you have a cure for sudden gender reassignment?” Lois asked skeptically.
Chloe gave her an indecisive look. “Like I said, Smallville weirdness, and you know I’m an expert on it.” She glanced back at Clark. “There’s been tons of freaking out already and I’d love to brief you on every little detail, but I need to hurry.”
That said, Chloe was gone and Lois was let with a Clark Kent too beautiful to be completely human. At this rate, everyone in Smallville was going to be a meteor mutant. She sat down at the other end of the couch and tried to look at Clark in a way that was not entirely staring.
“You don’t seem too weirded out by this,” Clark said. His new voice was a pleasant, clear alto.
Lois shrugged. “In the last two months I’ve found out my ex-boyfriend is a Luthorcorp clone and my cousin can magically heal people. You suddenly turning up with organs on the inside instead of the outside is a logical progression.”
Clark stared at her with an incredulous look. “You’re crazy, Lois.”
“Takes one to know one, I guess.”
Clark didn’t reply to that, turning to stare into the fire instead, and Lois took the opportunity to look. Clark was still tall, but tall for a woman rather than a man, like her. Still had dark hair, and a weird nose, and strong shoulders. His masculine clothes draped on him, too big everywhere but maybe his breasts and - she thought back to how it had all looked when he and Chloe’d first arrived - hips. Somewhere along the way he’d misplaced his shoes (work boots, knowing him) and his socks were pooling at his ankles. His face was prettier than before, very simply just more feminine from the side. If she wasn’t certain that he’d freak out even worse, she’d take a picture for posterity.
“Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any weirder,” Clark said morosely; Lois wasn’t sure what he meant by that - weird things happened in Smallville, of course, but the Kents were downright normal - but she reached out and put her hand on his arm, going out of her way for once to be nice. “Chloe thinks everything will work out,” she told him. “And you know she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t believe it.”
Clark seemed to stiffen at the contact, but when she started to life her arm, worried that he was getting too weirded out by everything, his free hand clamped down on it and held her there. She looked up. “Clark?” she asked, daring to try to meet his eyes - fringed even more prettily, if that was even possible, now that he was a girl. She was surprised by his grin, too glad and catlike and sly to be normal. And then he looked up from staring at her hand on him, his eyes full of heat, and he said, “Your hand is so warm.”
She frowned; something wasn’t right about the way he said it. “Are you okay, Clark?” she asked. Was this more Smallville weirdness, or what?
“I still think about it sometimes,” he said.
“Think about what?”
“The night you don’t remember,” he replied, one side of his smiling mouth rising into a smirk. “I lied. I remember every moment.”
There were two nights, actually, that she didn’t remember, but only one that he would have lied about: the one that had ended with crashing the Luthor-Lang engagement party. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Why did you lie about it?” Questions were good, right? Keep him talking and maybe Chloe’d be back before he got any weirder.
“Because normally I’m too busy chasing Lana to admit how hot you are,” he answered. The matter-of-fact tone made her shiver. “And how much fun we had,” he added. “We really should have had a lot more.”
Clearly the transformation had rattled his brain. “Really,” she said, but she couldn’t even lie to herself: the sarcasm was defensive. “You and me, and fun.”
His smirk grew. “Let me prove it to you,” he said and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her.
Oh.
My.
God.
She was robbed of higher brain function for several moments - not so much the fact that he was kissing her, or that he was technically female at that moment, but how good the kiss was, on a level with the Green Arrow kiss a year earlier. It was passionate and hungry and - once she started to think again and began to reciprocate - about as close to sex as you could get with just two mouths. She was panting for air when he finally broke the kiss and leaned forward. She felt his hot breath on her ear. “Ever had sex with another girl?” he asked.
Her shock at hearing Clark Kent ask so blunt a question must have explained her answer, and everything that followed: not “What’s wrong with you, Clark?” or “Like it’s any of your business!” but a simple, solid, breathy “Yes.”
He chuckled, like he didn’t believe her. “Really?”
“Really,” she affirmed, mad at his challenge. She was telling the truth: she’d just turned sixteen and the other girl had initiated it, but she’d gone along out of a mixture of honest curiosity and a need for something new to get the General’s attention. But when he’d found out, he’d simply said, “At least you won’t get pregnant,” and she’d gone back to trying his patience with boys. It was a rare woman that she found that hot, but damn if this femme Clark Kent wasn’t one of them.
He laughed again. “Prove it,” he whispered.
Lois Joanne Lane didn’t usually back down from a challenge. This wasn’t going to be one of those times.
Clark had brought his head back, smirking as though certain she wouldn’t follow through, and she smirked back at him, determined to prove him wrong. She pushed him away until he was nearly on his back and then pounced, kissing him. He seemed surprised but pleased, participatory, and he didn’t fight when she started to pull up his T-shirt. His skin was warm under it, and soft, and his new femininity was made real by the round, brown-tipped breasts she found where hard muscle had once been. She broke the kiss watching as Clark pulled his shirt over his head. His breasts danced with the movement, large but firm and natural and beautiful. He didn’t seem disturbed by their unveiling - another oddity of the evening that she wouldn’t register until later, too caught up to recognize it and to remember that Clark was generally modest, especially for a guy - and she didn’t hesitate to touch them. She ran her fingers over them, taking in their size - about the same as hers - and the crinkling of the dark areolae as the nipples began to harden in excitement. Clark began to breathe faster at her touch. She took it as encouragement and, thinking on what she liked, experimentally rolled one nipple between her fingers.
He gasped, but once again grabbed her hand when she began to pull away. “Do that again,” he ordered, and she did. She did anything and everything that came to mind, rubbing and rolling and massaging with her fingers and her palms, first one side and then the other, and then both at the same time and was half surprised to see, feel, hear him shudder suddenly in climax and then slacken a little under her.
Lois sighed, feeling envious. It figured that the one guy to cross the gender divide and come through with completely natural girl parts would end up one of those few women to come just from someone playing with their breasts. That, or it was so new that anything would have been enough.
She didn’t give him much time to recover before continuing. Taking advantage of his momentary break with reality, she drew her hands down his abdomen and quickly unbuttoned and then unzipped his jeans. They and the masculine underwear that hid underneath remained in place only by virtue of his wide - dare she even think ‘child-bearing’? - hips. She slipped her right hand inside, drawing a line south from his navel, and found what she was looking for. She grinned; she’d half expected to find something more obviously phallic and male, despite every other indication that Clark Kent was now a complete, fully-functional woman. She pushed a little further, wetting her fingers and then, deliberately, once, and suddenly, she touched his clitoris.
He - she, really; Clark was a woman now, entire - jumped. “What was that?” she - Clark - growled.
Lois watched Clark as she touched her again, saw her react again, more subtly this time, as if still wanting to believe she was in control. Lois knew better. “I heard what you said to Chloe,” she said, slowly running her free hand over Clark’s stomach and sides. “That being turned into a girl was a punishment. You feel that?” She touched the nub a third time. “That’s your clit, Clark. They say babies all start out girls, but if it’s a boy the nerves and the skin and veins stretch out and turn into a penis. But with girls, it all stays put. Guys’ll stick their dick into anything just to feel it. But girls…” She met Clark’s eyes. “Just think about it - all the nerves bundled up together, one little, special spot.”
Clark’s eyes darkened at the suggestion - mission complete. “Lois-” she said, but Lois cut her off: “I’m not done.”
Clark narrowed her eyes, a seething kind of anger or rebellion in them. Lois didn’t think she’d ever seen anything hotter. It took effort to continue the lesson:
“Penetration can be nice,” she said. “Most women like it, if it’s done right.” She suddenly slipped her hand down and under, between the slickened folds, and watched Clark squirm at the sudden intrusion of Lois’s finger inside her. “But on their own, a lot of girls go straight for this and nothing else.”
Her fingers returned to Clark’s clit and pressed, rubbing hard, and - remembering the earlier reactions - brought her other hand to Clark’s nipple. The new girl shuddered almost immediately. It was almost too easy, but at this point she didn’t care. Lois, two - Clark, zero.
Lois wasn’t sure what to do next, but at some point Clark’s pants were going to come off, so she pulled at them, revealing strong, muscled thighs, models from life for those artists who drew the Legendary Lady comics she’d liked when she was a kid. The skin wasn’t bare: it was lightly dusted with hair, but it made sense; this was Clark as a woman, completely natural, without any artifice or modification.
But before she could think of her next strategy, Lois found herself suddenly on her own back, almost six feet of Kansas farmgirl straddling her, naked and panting. She knew meteor-affected people could be damn strong, but Clark had been fast, too, managing to strip herself completely bare, socks and all, in seconds, and to push her back besides. Clark’s dark hair, only a smidgen longer than before, hung over her eyes, but there was no mistaking the look of unfulfilled determination in them. It gave Lois a secret thrill that she’d rattled Clark so much. It was unbelievably arousing.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” Clark said in a sultry tone. “Making me come?” She smirked and then kissed her so hard that Lois finally understood what romance writers meant by ‘bruised lips’: it was meant to be taken literally.
She breathed hard when Clark released her, too turned on to care about lack of air, and shivered as Clark leaned in to whisper in her ear again. “Just imagine, all the things I’ve ever fantasized about doing, I’m gonna do to you, all the things I’ve never done to anyone else. I’m going to do everything you did to me, and then some.” She hadn’t even noticed Clark’s hand finding its way into her shirt until then, fingers reaching her nipple and pinching it lightly, as if to emphasize what Clark had just said.
“By the way,” Clark added as Lois’s entire body raised another degree, “I like your new ring. Red’s my favorite color.”
Lois didn’t have time to think about what Clark had said before the other hand found its way to her own clit and began to play.
She woke up completely naked, smelling of sex and feeling gross with dried-on sweat. She tiptoed to the bathroom, not bothering to cover up: they were past that point, she figured, leaving Clark asleep on the ground. They never quite made it to the bed.
Clark was still a girl, and a quick glance at her cell phone told her they hadn’t slept through any calls from Chloe.
She took her time, thinking about the evening’s unexpected turn. There was something not right about what had happened: since when was Clark Kent so aggressive, especially in a sexual way, and having just been turned into a girl on top of that? She should have been too weirded out to form sentences. It had been hot, but not normal, as far as she knew. She let the hot water ease the sore spots from sleeping on the floor, determined not to let anything more happen until she was sure Clark was in her right mind.
But Clark wasn’t there.
Chloe, however, was. “Uh…” her cousin said, taking in the scene, and now Lois saw the room with refreshed eyes: the couch pillows on the floor, the chenille throw hanging off the coffee table, her clothes scattered. “Okay,” Chloe finally continued. “I was going to ask what happened, but I don’t think I want to know. Where’s Clark?”
“I don’t know,” Lois said, glad that she’d at least slipped on her bathrobe. The resolution to behave herself once she left the shower had been a really, really good idea. “She must have left while I was in the shower.”
Chloe blinked. “Okay,” she said slowly. And then, suddenly, she grabbed Lois’s hand. “Where did you get that ring?”
“At the craft fair in Granville last week,” Lois replied, a little surprised. What did jewelry have to do with anything? “You’re the one who dragged me there. What does that have to do with our disappearing genderbender?”
“Everything, if you were wearing it earlier, too,” Chloe told her - and then, almost as if she had super-speed, too, slipped it from her finger. “Hey!” Lois said. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get you a new one,” Chloe told her, sprinting over to the dresser and pulling something from the bottom drawer. Lois only caught the glimmer of something green and glowing as Chloe slipped her ring inside the container before putting it all into her purse. “I better go find him,” Chloe said, almost to herself. “Don’t wait up for me.”
And with that, Chloe left.
Sleep finally came for Lois hours later, the apartment back in order from their escapades, about five minutes after Lois admitted to herself that she found guy Clark as hot as girl Clark, and she’d’ve had sex with him almost as quickly as she’d done her.
Metropolis
Some years later
“Wait, what color Kryptonite was that? Pink?”
He blushed - not something Superman did very often these days - and said, “Lavender. Well, purple, really. The pink stuff-”
“The pink stuff what?” she demanded, watching him squirm under her gaze. “You know I’m going to force it out of you eventually, Smallville.”
He winced. “Batman made me swear never to speak of it again.”
If ever there had been a time to have a hard surface to bash her head against… “It made you gay, didn’t it.”
He nodded.
She sighed and let herself fall back onto the pillows. “I swear to god, some days I think I live in a comic book,” she said. “You didn’t have sex with Batman, did you?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, god, no. I was, um, more in control. With you, it was kind of an accident.”
“An accident. Like us right now,” she said shortly, getting angry, “with me figuring out the truth.”
“What I mean is,” he said, backpedaling, “that there was another kind of Kryptonite that accidentally entered the picture. Red Kryptonite, to be exact.”
“Just how many colors are there?” she said, a little incredulous. “And how did you go from being freaked out oh-my-god-I’m-a-girl with the purple stuff to let’s-have-hot-lesbian-sex-with-Lois with the red stuff?”
He laughed. “Red Kryptonite’s like a drug. It makes me lose control. I get aggressive, and, well, horny. It was in that ring you were wearing.”
Lois slapped her palm to her forehead. “That’s why Chloe took it. She knew.”
“Yeah, she knew pretty much everything. It wasn’t the first time I’d gone wild on red kay. I generally do things I end up regretting, and you know me and regret - that’s why she spent the night with me, to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid or rash. She’s why I stayed around a whole month before I left. Otherwise I would have gone straight up to the Fortress and started my training without even saying goodbye to anyone, the minute I was, well, a guy again.”
“Did you?” she asked. “Regret it, I mean?”
“At the time? Yes,” he explained, “but only because I was confused.”
“You did run away every time I entered the room before you left,” she said, remembering. “Like you were scared of me.”
He grinned. “You were pretty scary. You made me enjoy being a girl for a couple of hours. That’s not supposed to happen. Plus, the sex had been pretty awesome.”
She smirked and looked at him, turning her head slightly. “I don’t suppose there’s any of the purple stuff laying around somewhere, is there? You’d change back, right?” She was teasing, and she was sure he knew that, but - that night had given her fantasy material for years.
He gave her a calculated look. “You’re pretty scary these days, too, you know,” he told her. “But I think I remember everything I learned that night, regardless what I am right this second. Mind if I show you?”
And with that he dove under the blankets. As much as anyone over six feet could just ‘dive under’.
Lois squealed at the unexpected contact. If she had to live in a comic book, at least it was one of the good ones, with sex and everything.
And really hot aliens.
In the split second before he distracted her beyond reasoning, she suddenly remembered what else she’d bought with the ring that day - not that she’d ever need red Kryptonite to have sex with Clark Kent, aka Superman, ever again. But:
She still had the earrings that matched.
[END]