What does the "S" stand for? (Supes story)

What Does the “S” Stand For?

Written by SteeleBlazer

The battle raged over the Metropolis skyline, lighting up the night with bursts of energy that seemed to tear the very fabric of the sky. Superman dodged a series of particularly powerful energy blasts from the alien invaders, his cape fluttering as he soared through the chaos. Below him, Lois Lane clung to the edge of a damaged rooftop, fearless as ever despite the precarious situation.

“Lois, you need to get to safety!” Superman called out, zipping toward her.

“Not a chance, Supes!” Lois shouted back. “I’m not missing the story of the century!”

Another blast came hurtling toward her, and Superman dove to intercept it. The energy slammed into him with the force of a thousand suns, and for the first time in years, Superman felt pain. Real, searing pain. His vision blurred, the world tilted, and he fell, unconscious, to the rooftop.

When Superman came to, he wasn’t on the rooftop anymore. He was lying in a soft bed, his head resting on a pillow that smelled faintly of Lois’s favorite perfume. Blinking, he sat up—and immediately froze.

Standing at the foot of the bed was Lois Lane, but not the Lois he knew. She was taller. Much taller. He tried to sit up but immediately froze, realizing something was off. The first thing he noticed was the chill against his skin—he wasn’t in his uniform anymore. Instead, he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. And when he stood up and got to his feet, that’s when he noticed the second thing.

How much Lois was now towering over him—he couldn’t miss just how big she had become. And what’s worse, that’s when he noticed she was wearing his superhero suit—and it fit her better than it ever fit him.

The iconic blue and red suit clung to her like a second skin, stretched taut across her impossibly muscular frame. Her shoulders were broad enough to block the doorway behind her, and her arms, crossed casually over her chest and stretching out the "S" on emblem that was adorned on it, making it look bigger, broader, more pronounced than it ever had on him. The cape, which normally draped majestically behind him, barely managed to cascade down to top of her thick muscular calves each the size of bowling balls. Her biceps pushed so hard against the sleeves that he was sure they’d give way at any moment.

“Morning, sunshine,” Lois said with a smirk. “Sleep well?” she asked, playfully tousling his hair. But it wasn’t just his hair she tousled—it felt like she tussled his entire body with the effortless motion.

Superman squirmed as he tried to free himself from her hand. When she finally let go, he couldn’t help but rub his head, trying to both straighten out his thoughts and his hair. “Lois, what—why are you wearing my suit?”

Lois glanced down at herself and grinned. “Oh, this? It seemed fitting. Yours didn’t exactly fit you anymore. But on me?” She flexed her arm, and the fabric strained audibly. “It’s a perfect fit. Well, almost.”

Superman’s jaw dropped as he took in the sight of her. “Lois… what happened?”

“Oh, just a little rooftop incident,” she said, crossing the room toward him. “You were asleep on the job—knocked out cold by that energy blast, so I had to step in and take care of things. A woman’s job is never done, am I right?”

She nudged Superman teasingly in the ribs with her elbow, and if the statement didn’t leave him speechless, the elbow certainly did—knocking the words out of his rebuttal, the wind from his lungs, and the figurative winds from his sails. He staggered slightly before managing to recover… or at least recover as best he could, given the strange situation and circumstances.

“Y-you… t-took care of them?” Superman asked, his voice incredulous and full of disbelief.

Lois nodded, planting her hands on her hips and striking a truly heroic, truly powerful pose as the superhero suit of his—or rather Lois’s—stretched tight and taut and to the limit by those supercharged, superpowered muscles of hers. “Took ‘em down faster than you ever could. Those alien invaders didn’t stand a chance.” She leaned in closer, her grin widening. “Turns out, that blast didn’t just knock you out—it gave me some of your powers.”

“My...my p-powers?” Superman stammered, neither fully asking nor stating, but instead questioning fate itself—why had all this happened?

With Lois looming over him with those muscles, it was easy to feel weak in her presence. But he was Superman; he shouldn’t be feeling weak. Yet it wasn’t just her towering form that loomed over him—it was the sheer weight of so many questions, thoughts, and fears. They pressed down on him, each one heavier than the last. And while it was strange enough to be looking up at Lois, he couldn’t help but feel as though more than just his perspective had shifted. The world itself seemed to be looming over him and weighing heavier than ever on him now, and with it came a growing sense of dread that mirrored a strange shrinking fear deep inside him.

Superman stood and stumbled toward a nearby mirror. His eyes widened in horror. His once god-like physique was gone. He was still fit, but his broad chest and powerful shoulders had shrunk. His arms, once brimming with power and muscles, looked barely above average. Even his iconic jawline seemed softer.

“Oh, and I didn’t just grow,” Lois said casually, flexing her arms in tandem, smiling at the way her biceps swelled and stretched the fabric of her shiny, taut sleeves. She couldn’t help but smirk as she added, “You shrank, too.”

“No…” he whispered, running his hands over his now-slimmer frame. “This can’t be happening.” He even pinched himself, and while this might, in fact, be a nightmare, the pain he felt told him it was no dream.

“Oh, it happened,” Lois said, crossing her arms. “And honestly? I think it’s an improvement.”

Superman turned back to her, his face red with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “This isn’t fair! Those are my powers, Lois. I’m the hero, not you.”

Lois raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because from where I’m standing, you don’t look very heroic.” She gestured to his boxers with a teasing smile. “And speaking of standing—how many pairs of underwear do you wear, exactly? Between the boxers and the red trunks, I’m starting to think your secret power is layering.”

Superman groaned, his face burning with shame. “This isn’t funny, Lois. We need to reverse this.”

Lois shrugged. “Why? I like it this way. Besides, you’re still super… just not as super as me.”

“But I’m Superman, no one is supposed to be more super than me!” He cried out in a statement that sounded more whiney than he wanted.

“Yeah, well, I am now,” she said smugly, once again striking the heroic hands-on-hips pose. She straightened out and stretched her chest along with the increasingly taut fabric of her claimed superhero suit. “Besides, it’s just a name—it doesn’t mean anything.”

Her words stung more than Superman wanted to admit. He was Superman, the greatest hero the world had ever known. He had saved both the planet and Lois countless times, and now his name didn’t mean anything? This was all so belittling to him, in so many ways—figuratively and literally. Her words hurt like a slap across the face, only instead of leaving a sting, they left a deep ache. He felt it almost as painful as if she had physically slapped him, but as he looked up at her powerful, imposing figure, the thought crossed his mind that a literal slap from her would hurt far worse. His throat tightened as he both gulped and swallowed his pride, forcing himself to look her in the eyes.

“Lois, please,” he pleaded. “This is serious. We need to go to the Fortress of Solitude and figure out how to fix this.”

Lois smirked. “Fine, but you might want to put some clothes on first. I don’t want Metropolis getting an eyeful of its not-so-superman in his birthday suit and not his super suit.”

Superman sighed, brushing a hand through his still-mussed hair. “Okay, I guess you’re right. I should get changed.” His eyes flicked over to Lois, standing proudly in his uniform, every inch of the taut fabric stretched to its breaking point by her impossibly muscular and heroic figure. The way she smirked down at him didn’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach. “I’ll, uh, need my suit back.”

"Actually..." Lois said, eyeing Superman up and down in his boxers, a mischievous glint in her eye, "I have a better idea."

Before he could respond, Lois zoomed past him, a gust of wind sending him spinning round and round and round like a top. He barely caught himself on the edge of the bed before she was at her closet, zipping through her wardrobe at super-speed. Clothes flew in every direction, drifting to the ground like snowflakes as she muttered to herself, pausing occasionally to examine an outfit before discarding it with a shrug. Superman could only gape, wobbling as he tried to make sense of the whirlwind and blizzard of falling clothes that was in front of him.

"This will do perfectly!" she announced triumphantly, holding up a blue sweater dress.

Superman, still wobbly from the wind force of her super speed, stared at the garment in disbelief. "What... for me? You've got to be joking..."

At that exact moment, his boxers, now too loose for his diminished frame, chose that moment to slid down to his ankles. He quickly tried to cover himself, face burning red with embarrassment.

Lois just grinned. "I do have super x-ray vision now, you know. No need to be shy." She thrust the dress at him with a playful force that nearly knocked him over. "But here, take this..."

Before he could protest, she disappeared back into the closet in another burst of super speed, catching him once again in her supersonic slipstream. The gust of wind sent him spinning like a top, his arms flailing as he struggled to stay upright. In the midst of his chaotic spin, he clutched desperately at the blue sweater dress she’d shoved at him earlier, holding it tightly against his chest to shield his shameful nakedness. He didn’t have time to think about why he suddenly felt so exposed—after all, his super suit used to fit him so tightly it might as well have been painted on, though not nearly as tight and snugly as it now fit Lois.

From the closet, Lois’s delighted squeal echoed, “These will be just perfect!” When he finally stopped spinning and steadied himself, he looked up—and found himself face-to-face with Lois, her grin wide and mischievous, holding a pair of pink panties aloft in her hand.

Lois, I am not wearing those panties or this dress," Superman protested, his voice cracking along with his pride. Clearing his throat, he tried to reclaim what little dignity he had left, but it seemed that everything had been stripped away—his powers, his size, strength, stature, and even his superhero outfit—all claimed by Lois.

"Why not?" Lois challenged, flexing her massive muscles until the stolen super-suit fabric creaked and groaned under the sheer pressure of her supercharged physique. "They're good enough for me to wear. Do you think you're better than me?"

Superman gulped at the display of power. "That's not it... these are women's clothes!"

"And they're the only clothes that will fit you right now," Lois stated matter-of-factly.

"Can't I just wear my superhero outfit?"

"I'm wearing it right now," Lois replied, striking her heroic hands-on-hips pose. The fabric and seams groaned audibly as her chest swelled—not just with pride, but with the sheer power of her mighty female muscles. More seams popped, unable to withstand the strain of her muscular strength. "It's the only thing that fits me... and it fits... just barely!"

She turned her gaze to him, raising an eyebrow with a playful yet challenging smirk. "So, are you too proud to wear this, Superman? Too proud to wear my clothes?"

Superman sighed, staring at the dress in his hands. Looking up at Lois—her towering, impossibly muscular form clad in his superhero suit stretched to its very limits—he’d never felt smaller in his entire life. Reluctantly and begrudgingly, he slipped the dress over his head, a small, strange part of him oddly grateful to finally cover up his skinny, shamefully diminished form.

However, once the dress was on, a fresh wave of humiliation washed over him. That feeling of smallness grew even deeper as the dress hung loosely on his shrunken frame, the hem brushing below the bottoms of his calves—far lower than it ever fit on Lois. And as for the panties? They fit far more snugly than he would’ve liked, a constant and uncomfortable reminder of just how much he had lost.

“Well,” she said, tilting her head with a playful grin. “Don’t you look cute.”

Superman opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. His face burned, and he looked away, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. He could still feel her gaze on him—a mix of amusement and approval that was as overwhelming as her sheer physical presence.

Lois licked her lips and crossed her arms, the taut fabric of the sleeves groaning under the strain as her biceps flexed ever so slightly. Meanwhile, Superman felt a humiliating tightening of his own, the pink panties he now wore straining uncomfortably as he watched the suit struggle to contain her impossibly powerful muscles. Her eyes swept approvingly over him one last time, sparkling with mischief and undeniable satisfaction.

“Come on,” Lois said, giving him a playful but firm slap on the booty. The sharp crack of her hand against him made Superman squeal in surprise and stumble forward, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson—no doubt the same shade as the sore cheeks beneath his pink panties—as he tried to regain his balance. “Let’s head to the Fortress. You might want to grab a scarf. It’s cold up there.”

She adjusted her cape with a dramatic flourish, tossing it behind her with effortless confidence, as if being a hero came as naturally to her as breathing. The outfit—his—her super suit—seemed to belong to her now, much like his powers. She wore it with a commanding ease, almost as though it had been crafted specifically for her. But of course, her broad shoulders and powerful frame belied that notion; she was clearly too big for his—her—super suit. Still, Lois carried it with a familiarity, like it was something she had always been destined to wear.

Superman, meanwhile, reached for a scarf, wrapping it clumsily around his neck. He tried to mimic the familiar gesture of adjusting his cape, but as he threw the scarf’s ends over his shoulder, the motion felt small and meaningless.

It wasn’t his cape.

It was just a scarf. And he wasn’t the Superman he used to be. Not anymore. Not while wearing a dress and standing in Lois’s shadow—in more ways than one. Frustration tightened in his chest, and with a sharp huff, he ripped the scarf off and tossed it to the floor.

“Let’s go, slowpoke!” Lois’s voice echoed from outside, full of playful impatience. She was already soaring through the air, her powerful form cutting effortlessly across the sky. Superman took a deep breath and launched after her, knowing full well that no matter how fast he flew, catching up to her now would be impossible.

The flight to the Fortress of Solitude was nothing short of humiliating. The Arctic winds bit into Superman's exposed legs as they flew north, making him almost wish Lois had remembered to give him pantyhose to wear as well. Almost. But even that indignity might have been preferable to the bone-chilling cold that gnawed at his skin, a cold so biting it seemed to mock him for how far he'd fallen—not just reduced, but reduced to wearing women’s clothing, and so diminished that even the women’s clothing was a bit too big on him.

What’s worse, the sweater dress provided little protection against the elements, the loose knit doing nothing to shield his shrunken frame from the unforgiving winds. The silky pink panties beneath offered even less, seeming only to amplify the icy gusts that swept mercilessly up his legs. Each chill sent a tingly shiver racing up his legs and down his spine meeting in the middle, creating strange and uncomfortable sensations that made the snug underwear feel even tighter against him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget what he was wearing, no matter how hard he tried—and a part of him was trying awfully hard.

Ahead of him, Lois soared effortlessly, as if the cold didn’t even register. She laughed as she looped and twirled through the air, her figure cutting an imposing, almost regal silhouette against the backdrop of the frozen wasteland. At times, she literally flew circles around him, each pass accompanied by a gust of wind that left him wobbling in her slipstream.

“Come on, Superman, try and keep up!” she called out, her voice bright with playful mockery. “Don’t tell me that S on your chest stands for slowpoke!”

She paused midair, striking a mockingly heroic pose—or at least the way her muscles bulged and swelled seemed mocking to him, especially that big, broad chest of hers, which she puffed out proudly. The super suit stretched taut across her powerful frame, every seam pushed to its absolute limit. And just when Superman thought the fabric couldn’t possibly stretch any tighter, he noticed something else—something that made his frustration deepen and his embarrassment rise: her nipples, hardened from the cold, pressing firmly against the fabric. That sight made a part of him respond likewise against the silky fabric of his own outfit.

With her physique, it wasn’t hyperbole to think those rock-hard points could cut glass. And for just a second, Superman couldn’t help but think—they absolutely could. But he didn’t have time to gawk, as Lois once again turned her attention back to teasing him.

“I thought you were supposed to be faster than a speeding bullet!” she called out, her tone dripping with feigned disappointment.

“Stop being a showboat, Lois!” Superman snapped, his teeth chattering from the cold.

He’d made this journey thousands of times, but never had it been so arduous. Lois’s antics weren’t making things any easier for him, even if he could occasionally drift in her slipstream—which, he couldn’t help but admit, offered a view far more captivating than the Arctic scenery below. In the past, when he’d taken her to the Fortress, he’d wrapped her in his cape to protect her from the elements, holding her close against his massive chest in his strong, brawny arms. Those trips were always too short for his liking.

Now, he found himself wishing this journey—and the entire humiliating ordeal—would end as quickly as possible. Though it had been only a day since this strange reversal of powers and fortunes began, it felt as if the Superman he once was, the man he used to be, was just as distant now as the Fortress itself.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime—or perhaps just a completely different life—they reached the Fortress of Solitude. Lois landed first, her boots crunching into the snow, and waited. Superman, lagging far behind, struggled against the biting Arctic winds. Lois, impatient and unused to her newfound power, began tapping her foot absentmindedly.

The ground beneath her started to quiver and then quake. Cracks spiderwebbed across the icy surface, the sound of shattering ice echoing through the frozen landscape.

“Oopsie,” she said with a sheepish grin, shrugging those impossibly large and even more impossibly strong shoulders. When Superman finally landed next to her, panting and rubbing his thighs to warm them against the chill, she added with a chuckle, “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”

Before he could respond, she gave him a hearty smack on the back. The force sent him doubling over and somersaulting through the snow. He landed unceremoniously on his pink-panty-clad bottom, his sweater dress fanning out like a ridiculous tutu around him. Snow shot up his bare legs and right into his derriere, the icy sting making him yelp in shock.

Lois leaned over, her eyes leering as she scanned every inch of his legs—not that there were as many inches as before. Her grin widened as she wiggled her eyebrows in approval. “Nice landing, champ,” she teased, her tone dripping with amusement.

Superman scrambled to his feet, hurriedly brushing the snow off his thighs and backside, trying in vain to dislodge whatever had made its way inside. His face burned crimson as Lois chuckled softly, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

“Aww, poor thing,” Lois cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You look like you’re freezing. Want me to warm you up a bit?” Before he could protest, her eyes glowed red with the unmistakable fire of heat vision.

“Lois, don’t you da—” Superman began, but a quick, focused burst of heat shot from her eyes, striking him square on his behind.

The heat was just enough to burn through the delicate fabric of the dress’s backside, leaving a small, singed hole. It went deeper still, scorching the edges of his pink panties and delivering a sharp sting that had Superman yelping and hopping in place.

“Yeow!” he squealed, his hands darting behind him to frantically fan his bottom as he bounced up and down. Each jump sent the hem of the dress fluttering upward, offering Lois an increasingly clear view of his scorched, lace-clad posterior.

Lois burst out laughing, crossing her bulging arms smugly as she raised an eyebrow. “Oopsie,” she said, her voice full of faux innocence and girly glee. “I was only trying to help.”

Superman spun to face her, still hopping in place as he alternated between rubbing and fanning his stinging bottom. His face was a blazing crimson, and he glared at her with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “Help? You call that help?” he snapped, wincing as he finally came to a stop.

Lois shrugged, still grinning as her eyes twinkled with mischief. “At least you’re not cold anymore, are you?”

Superman groaned, glaring at her as he tugged the hem of the dress down in a futile attempt to cover the hole. “Let’s just get inside,” he muttered, his voice tinged with exasperation as he trudged toward the towering doors of the Fortress, the faint scent of singed fabric trailing behind him.

As he approached the Fortress, his steps slowed, and his gaze lifted to take in the massive crystalline structure rising before him. It felt almost like he was seeing it for the first time, though he’d been here countless times before. The towering doors loomed larger than ever, but somehow, they still didn’t feel as imposing as Lois. She stood beside him, her broad shoulders and towering frame making her feel more imposing, more intimidating than anything Kryptonian architecture could manage. Even with the Fortress standing tall before him, it was Lois who truly made him feel small.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Superman had hoped Lois might have already opened the doors. But no, they remained sealed. He straightened his back and puffed out his chest, telling himself there was nothing to fear. This was his Fortress, his home, his birthright. This was where he would set everything right. All he had to do was get inside.

Easier said than done.

Only a handful of beings in the world could open those massive doors, and Superman had always been one of them. He stepped forward, his resolve firm, and braced himself against the icy surface. The moment his hands touched the crystal, though, reality set in. His shrunken muscles felt small, inadequate, against the weight of the door. Still, he pushed with everything he had.

The doors creaked faintly. Sweat broke out on his brow as he gritted his teeth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His feet slid against the icy ground, and his arms trembled from the strain. Slowly—agonizingly slowly—the doors moved a fraction of an inch, just barely enough to let in the faintest breeze from the Arctic chill outside.

Superman refused to give up, summoning every ounce of strength he had left. Which, compared to what he once was, wasn’t much. But compared to anyone else—besides Lois, who would have made his past self look like a 100-pound weakling—it was still something. Right now, though, he felt every bit like that 100-pound weakling, straining and sweating as he shoved with all his might. But 100-pound weakling or not, he still was Superman, and his resolve was unshakable, his never-say-die attitude refusing to let him quit. He had that heroic, never-say-die mindset, but you better believe in his mind, he was practically shouting, Move, damn you, move!

Finally, the massive doors seemed to listen—or at the very least took pity on him—groaning and shifting, and opening the very least they could—just barely wide enough for him to squeeze through. He stumbled back, panting, his arms and legs trembling as he caught his breath.

“Good to know your sense of chivalry hasn’t diminished,” Lois quipped, her voice light and teasing. “Just your body and superpowers.”

Superman wiped the sweat from his brow with the long sleeve of his blue dress as he glared at her over his shoulder. But before he could respond, Lois stepped forward, brushing him aside with one large hand.

“This is one woman who doesn’t even need a Superman to open the doors for her,” she said with a smirk. “So step aside, lil’ guy. Empowered woman coming through.”

With that, she reached out, her massive, bulging arms flexing as she placed her hands on the doors. Lois barely seemed to exert herself as she pushed, and the great crystalline doors groaned before swinging wide open, yielding effortlessly to her strength, and Superman watched in dismay as she strode into his sanctuary like she owned it. He couldn’t help but think to himself, it was bad enough she'd taken his powers, but now she was claiming his fortress too?

"Coming, sidekick?" Lois called over her shoulder with a wink.

Superman rubbed his cold thighs, brushing snow from his legs and bottom. "I'm not your sidekick, I'm S—"

"Sidekick boy?" Lois cut him off. "Oh fine, sidekick man. But really, why don't you forget this silly notion of reversing anything?" She flexed, her massive frame seeming to expand even further, muscles rippling beneath the stretched fabric of his former suit. Her shoulders spread wide enough to cast him in shadow, biceps bulging like mountains. “How about giving me a tour of my new home? Fine… our home.”

Before he could respond, Lois bumped her hips into him playfully, sending him stumbling to the side. Though it wasn’t truly a sidekick, Superman couldn’t help but feel like Lois was pushing him aside, inch by inch, and glancing at her thick, towering muscles, she had so many, many more inches than him. Still, she should listen to him, he thought. He was Superman, and he had important things to say to her.

“But the s-second thing…” Superman stammered, trying to interject.

Too late. Lois zipped off into the Fortress at super speed, her excited calls echoing all throughout the sprawling structure. One moment, she was in one room; the next, she was at the far end of the Fortress, her movements a blur of red and blue. With burst after burst of super speed, she moved like a tornado through his Fortress, sending gusts of wind swirling in her wake. All the while, her voice rang out, extolling and exclaiming over the strange crystalline palace.

“This place is huge! Is that your super gym? My super gym… our super gym! Look at these weights—wow, that barbell’s bigger than a city bus. I can’t wait to try them out! I bet I’m stronger than you... Well, stronger than what you were...”

“Lois, will you stop and lis—” Superman tried, but before he could finish, he found himself floundering in the breeze—if you could call Lois’s supersonic speed force a breeze. Before he could do anything, Superman once again found himself caught up in her wake. The gusts from her super-speed buffeted him, tugging at his dress and sending the hem whipping embarrassingly high, revealing flashes of his pink panties.

“The s-second thing is—” he shouted, but he was literally shouting into the wind of Lois’s supersonic whirlwind. He tried to stop her, to warn her, but she just wouldn’t listen, and his spinning head made it hard to think straight as she zipped by again, sending him reeling.

“I n-need to—” he started, only to be rocked and spun again as Lois zipped past.

Each time she passed him, the wind from her super-speed sent him spinning like a top, his dress twirling up embarrassingly.

Superman sighed, realizing he couldn’t possibly keep up with her. Heck, he couldn’t even follow her with his eyes, let alone physically. Her path through the Fortress was as erratic as it was ecstatic, a dizzying maze that left him dazed. As he tried to trace her journey, his eyes began to spin. With a resigned sigh, he decided he’d do the second thing at the console in the science lab—it would be easier to handle there than trying to shout over the windy supersonic maelstrom Lois was leaving in her wake. He wouldn’t let her boundless enthusiasm or penchant for distractions divert him any further.

But as he trudged determinedly forward, another gust from her super-speed caught him squarely. This time, it wasn’t just his eyes spinning; his entire body whirled like a top, his dress flaring out embarrassingly like a parachute as he flailed to regain balance.

"Oh, this must be the central hub... the command center... your science lab... and what's this? Oh, those must be your robots!" Lois said, her voice ringing out gleefully.

The security robots activated immediately. "Intruder detected."

"They look like you," Lois observed with a smirk. "Well, how you used to look before you shrank."

"Surrender and no harm will befall you," the robots warned.

"Hands off, mister!" Lois snapped. There was a loud crash, followed by a loud smash. "It was a bit handsy, now it's just in bits and pieces!"

Superman sighed. "I need to deactivate the alarm—"

"Ooh, more robots!" Lois called out. "Let's see if these ones know how to treat a lady!"

"Halt, intruder!"

"Guess not!" More sounds of smashing and crashing and of tearing metal filled the air, punctuated by Lois's delighted grunts and laughter.

"Computer, deactivate alarm and power down all robot defenses!" Superman commanded.

"Voice not recognized," the computer responded.

"Computer, listen to me!" Superman shrieked in frustration then froze as an unfamiliar high-pitched voice came from his throat.

"Voice not recognized." And Superman realized it wasn’t just the computer who didn’t recognize his voice but himself too, it was higher than before.

"More robots!" Lois whooped. "At least a dozen! This should be fun – I always liked Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots! Come at me, boys!"

"Computer, deactivate alarm," Superman said again, lowering his voice and trying to force out that deep, commanding, booming heroic tone he was once known for. Only he couldn’t. What came out instead was soft, delicate, and higher-pitched—lacking the power, and seemingly, the confidence of his old voice.

"Voice not recognized," the computer replied again.

"Take this! And that! Oh, and some of this!" Lois shouted, each word punctuated by the sound of destruction. Metal crunched and clanged as her laughter and grunts rang out, echoing through the Fortress.

"Nooooo!" Superman whined in his new higher voice, his frustration mounting as the sounds of destruction continued. The metallic crashes seemed endless, mingled with Lois’s enthusiastic cheers and taunts.

Finally, in desperation, he called out, "Krypton-Beta-Command-Lara-Sorok-Myrn-Mazs-Syra-Itren-Altis-Wor-Nerel: Emergency protocol deactivate security!"

"Command code accepted. Security disabled."

The crashing sounds slowed, each impact becoming more spaced out, before finally stopping altogether. A final faint metallic rattling and tinkling was all that could be heard as all sounds of the destruction and devastation of his private security force has come to an end, along with most likely the vast majority of the robots that comprised his force.

"Aww, they just turned off!" Lois’s disappointed voice rang out. "But I was having so much fun!"

Superman sighed, attempting to puff up his chest and instinctively reaching to adjust a cape and emblem that weren't there. Sheepishly, he smoothed out his dress instead and adjusted the pink panties that had ridden up during all the spinning.

He trudged toward the lab, muttering to himself, and when he finally stepped foot inside, he noticed Lois was not there yet. Incredibly, despite all her zipping around, he had actually beaten her there. So incensed and incredulous, he shouted, "Lois, g—" he started to call, but a red and blue blur shot past him, the gust of wind sending him spinning yet again, his dress twirling wildly. "—et in here!"

"Already here, slowpoke," Lois smirked from her position in the lab, leaning casually against a console. "Maybe that's what the 'S' stands for now – Slowpoke?"

Superman just sighed in response.

“Or maybe… Sigh Man. You’ll put all the bad guys to sleep with all that exasperation!”

Superman started to sigh again but caught himself as he noticed Lois grinning at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Clamping his mouth shut, he quickly averted his gaze. Lois's grin only widened as she watched him fight off the sigh, her expression practically daring him to let it slip. She winked playfully, then crossed her arms, the motion causing her massive biceps to bulge and press against her chest, which rose powerfully with the movement. The striations of her muscles rippled visibly beneath the taut, overstretched fabric of his former super suit. Her muscles were both hypnotic and mocking to him. Forcing himself to tear his gaze away, he muttered under his breath, “Let’s get started on fixing this…”

"It's time we started on reversing this," he managed to say, though another sigh escaped despite his best efforts.

"What's to fix?" Lois flexed again, causing more seams to pop. "There's nothing wrong with either of us."

Superman either didn’t hear what Lois said, or he pretended not to, which seemed fitting since, as far as he was concerned, Lois was the one pretending that nothing was wrong. After all, just the way she fit and filled out his superhero outfit should have been more than enough for her—or anyone else—to realize that something was really, really wrong. And he was going to fix it, or by Krypton, he isn’t Superman.

Superman dove into his work, running test after test on the Fortress's advanced scientific equipment. Each scan, each calibration, felt like a step closer to undoing this nightmare—or at least he told himself that. Lois, meanwhile, stood to the side for all of five seconds before stretching her arms overhead and yawning loudly, the sound echoing through the lab.

Superman paid her as little attention as possible, which, of course, was hard to do, because she was very big—not just in stature but in presence. He couldn’t miss all her sighing or shuffling, and her tapping foot was far from subtle—it was seismic. The vibrations rippled through the lab, shaking not just Superman and the consoles and equipment, but also his belief that he might ever be able to reverse this—or worse, deep down, that he should. The almost-indestructible floor beneath her foot cracked under the earthquaking relentless rhythm of her impatient tapping.

Finally, Superman whined—or rather, he told her, though with his high-pitched voice, it came off more as a whine—“Lois, could you please stop tapping your foot?”

Lois immediately stopped and glanced at him, her expression somewhere between amused and apologetic. “Oopsie,” she said, giving a slight shrug. “I guess I keep forgetting my own strength.”

Superman shot her a tired, warning look as she raised her hand to playfully slap him on the back. Catching his gaze, she stopped mere inches away. “Right,” she said, flashing him a playful smirk. “Sorry about that.”

She then lightly patted him on the back, though “lightly” was relative when it came to Lois. The force of her hand sent him stumbling forward, his arms flailing for balance.

“Oopsie,” she said again, this time with a soft laugh.

Superman sighed deeply, smoothing his dress and adjusting for an imaginary “S” insignia and cape that weren’t there. Muttering to himself, he turned back to the console. He resumed his tests with dogged determination, the hum and flicker of the machines filling the air as he tried desperately to find answers. All he needed was peace and quiet, and he thought he could solve this—only he wouldn’t be getting any answers, just as he wouldn’t be getting any peace and quiet.

Within minutes Lois was bored again...

"You're getting nowhere fast," Lois observed, stretching her massive frame. "Actually..." She smirked, "You're getting nowhere slowly. This is taking forever!"

She casually reached out and poked him in the chest where his S-shield would normally be. The seemingly playful gesture sent him wobbling backward, his balance completely thrown off by her impossible strength.

"Maybe that's what the 'S' stands for – SLOW. Captain Slow could be your new superhero name!"

Superman grumbled under his breath, trying to maintain his focus on the readouts. "Just stay put and hold your horses..."

"I've got a better idea!" In a flash, Lois was gone, the force of her departure sending Superman spinning like a ballet dancer, his dress flaring up around his thighs. The cool air kissed his legs and sent a chill through the silky pink panties. Before he could stop spinning, another gust of super-speed sent him pirouetting in the opposite direction as Lois returned.

When he finally steadied himself, she was holding the largest dumbbell from his super-gym – a weight forged from dark star matter that even he, at full strength, had found challenging. "Why don't I hold this instead?"

Lois sat down and began curling the massive weight with casual ease. "One... two... three..."

Superman's eyes lingered despite himself. Her arm, densely corded with thick muscle, stretched the limits of the sleeves of her super suit—his super suit—although it had never fit like that on him. No matter how many times he looked upon her, it just didn’t feel right, and each movement, each flex, each rep was a reminder of not just who he was, but how much greater Lois now was. Each rep made her bicep mound grow bigger and thicker, swelling and bulging higher with each controlled motion. The peak of her mountainous biceps rose higher and higher, that prominent vein in her beefy, boulder-like bicep pulsing and thickening with every pump, pressing against the tight, taut fabric of the suit like it was a second skin.

Something about watching her curl that dumbbell—so effortlessly commanding its unfathomable weight—it didn’t just make him jealous, it unnerved him and made him feel strange. The rhythmic motion, the relentless swelling of her muscles growing bigger and thicker, thicker and bigger, as her arm stretched the taut fabric of her super suit thinner and thinner, and she wasn’t the only one getting bigger and harder. He felt something else too. With rep after rep, not only was she getting her blood pumping, but she got his pumping too. Albeit his was pumping in a different way, to a different appendage, causing his own outfit to stretch out in its own way as well. He swallowed hard, trying to discreetly adjust his pink panties and the hem of his blue dress, careful not to draw attention to himself.

He carefully adjusted his pink panties and the hem of his blue dress, trying not to draw attention to himself, trying not to let Lois notice. But then he saw it—the raised eyebrow, the slow smile, the teasing wink.

His face flushed red hot.

She knew.

Of course, she knew.

She had his powers now, which was evident not just in her super-charged, pumped-up muscular physique, but by the ease with which she was impossibly lifting that impossibly large and heavy dumbbell. She had just finished her thirtieth rep and was switching arms effortlessly, so of course, she also had his super x-ray vision—something which she had said she had used on him before. And judging by that leering smile, he couldn’t be certain just how often she had used it since then.

His face burned red, and while he found this all to be so very testing, he realized he had other tests to worry about. So, he forced himself to turn back to his tests. He needed to focus. He needed to find a way to fix this. He needed things to go back to normal.

Superman tried to focus on his tests, but his eyes kept drifting to Lois. Each curl made her bicep swell to impossible size, the peak rising higher and higher as she lifted the impossibly heavy weight that only a select few in the entire universe could even budge. Her soft grunts of exertion seemed almost mocking – not because she was struggling, but because she clearly wasn't struggling enough with a weight that was denser and heavier than some planets.

More tests. More failures. His frustration mounted with each passing minute, though not as much as Lois's boredom. Even the spectacle of her own strength – muscles swelling and bulging to sizes that defied belief – wasn't enough to keep her entertained. The sight of her casually curling the universe's densest metal one-handed while stifling yawns only added to Superman's growing irritation, and Lois’s increasing boredom.

More time passed as Superman kept conducting his tests, each proving more futile and ending in failure, while Lois just kept curling that massive dumbbell of hers, over and over and over and over again...

Lois exhaled dramatically, finally growing tired of her endless curling. "One thousand," she announced, then grinned. "Or two thousand if you count both arms."

And then, with zero regard for anything around her, she let the dumbbell drop.

The impact was instant and catastrophic.

The massive weight, dense beyond comprehension, crashed into the Fortress floor like a meteor strike. The entire room quaked as a deep crater formed beneath it, the once-pristine crystalline ground fracturing out in jagged lines from the sheer force. Consoles flickered, machines rattled, and Superman barely managed to steady himself as the tremors rocked through his feet.

That was it. Just like Lois dropping the dumbbell and cracking the floor, something inside Superman dropped and cracked too.

"I’ve had enough of your attitude, missy!" Superman shouted as he whirled around, finger raised accusatorily. "First, you take my powers, then you take my superhero outfit, and you just think you can take o—OW!"

His dramatic moment was cut short as his foot slammed into the embedded dumbbell. He hopped around in pain, the borrowed blue dress he was wearing billowing up and down, giving Lois an excellent view of the pink panties underneath. If he hadn’t made a big showing of what an ass he was, he certainly was showing off his ass right now.

"I knew I should have given you the matching heels to wear," Lois smirked.

Incensed and still irate—though not truly injured—while his foot stung, his pride stung far worse. Superman grabbed the weight with both hands. "This is a lab, not a gym! I'm going to throw it out of here!"

He reached down with all the sound and fury he could muster, but truly it signified nothing, because despite straining with all his might, the weight wouldn't budge. He wasn’t used to failure; he’d never failed to lift anything in his entire life—not a weight, not a car, a city bus, an airplane, not even mountains or planets. And yet, despite him trying with every ounce and fiber of his being, he couldn’t lift the weight. There just weren’t the same amount of ounces and fibers in his being as before, and the failure to lift that dark star matter dumbbell from the crystalline crater in his floor caused his ego to crater along with it.

"You want it gone? Fine." Lois casually batted him aside, sending him all the way back across the room, and picked up the weight with just one hand. With a flick of her wrist, she flipped the dumbbell up and balanced it on her pointer finger. She held it there easily, then flexed and smiled for them both.

Then, with another flick of her wrist, she tossed it into the air and caught it between both hands. Her shoulders rippled with power as she began crushing it between her bare hands. The hardest metal known to both Earth and Krypton crumpled like tinfoil in her grip. The corded muscles in her forearms danced as she compressed the weight smaller and smaller, the metallic groaning punctuating Superman's growing humiliation.

"Face it, Superman," she said, tossing the tiny ball of compressed metal aside and causing another seismic shake throughout the lab, leaving yet another crater in the floor. "I'm more super than you. I can best use these powers."

"But they're mine!" he protested weakly.

"They were yours," she corrected. "And you had more than enough to share. What's wrong with me being the stronger one now?" She struck another pose, her muscles threatening to burst through the suit completely. "Are you really such a small man that you can't stand me being bigger?"

Superman felt smaller than ever, shrinking inside as reality refused to bend to his will, and he’d be damned if he would let Lois bend him to her will. "But... but it's not right!"

Lois pumped up her biceps, causing more seams to pop. "Feels right to me."

“That’s not how it works!” Superman snapped. “I’m the hero, not you!”

Lois’s smile faded, replaced by an amused smirk. “You sure about that?” She took a step closer, her shadow looming over him. “Because from where I’m standing, you don’t look like much of a hero right now.”

Superman stomped his foot, his voice cracking, but instead of the crystalline floor shattering beneath him, it merely quivered and trembled—just like his lips were starting to. "They're my birthright!" he cried out.

Lois let out an easy chuckle. "And why does that make it your right? Besides, you had plenty of power to share."

"You've taken more than enough of your share!" he shot back, his fists clenched.

Lois flexed, her muscles swelling impossibly large, her body radiating power. "Maybe that just makes me the greater hero."

"It's not fair!" Tears welled up in his eyes.

"Life isn't fair," Lois replied calmly, but strongly. Her biceps swelled up so large that the sleeves burst apart, the fabric ripping asunder.

And something burst inside Superman.

"If you won't give them back, I'll take them back!"

In a moment of frustrated rage, Superman slapped her face. But it only hurt him more than it hurt Lois. He yelped and rubbed his hand, and by the stern look she gave him, he wanted to shrivel up and disappear. But that was precisely why he was so angry.

He clenched his fists, looking up at Lois, at the way she loomed over him, at the way she outmuscled him in every way imaginable. He couldn't take it.

So, he decided it was Lois’s time to take it.

With all the power he had left, he reared back and threw the most powerful punch he could muster. He was a man who once obliterated meteors with a single blow, who could shake planets with his fists.

But could his punch stem the tide of Lois’s meteoric rise and overwhelming power?

The answer came in an instant.

His fist struck her steely abdominals. While it might have broken the sound barrier with a thunderous crack, it only served to break him. His wrist snapped, knuckles fracturing upon impact with her unyielding core. The pain shot through his arm like lightning.

Superman clutched his wrist, gasping in agony. But worse than the physical pain was the way Lois looked down at him.

Not as an equal.

Not even as a threat.

But as something less.

He wasn’t the Man of Steel any longer. She was however every inch and every sinew and many, many more—the Woman of Steel now.

And what did that make him?

He didn't feel like Superman anymore.

He didn’t even feel like a man.

He felt like a petulant child.

And judging by Lois’s expression, that’s exactly how she saw him.

In one fluid motion, she grabbed him and bent him over her knee. The dress flew up as her hand came down hard on the pink panties underneath. Each spank echoed through the Fortress, accompanied by Superman's yelps of pain and protest. He struggled, but her grip was iron, her strength absolute. All he could do was endure as she thoroughly taught him a lesson about respect and acceptance.

In one fluid motion, she grabbed him and bent him over her knee. The dress flew up as her hand came down hard on the pink panties underneath. Each spank echoed through the Fortress, accompanied by Superman’s yelps of pain and protest. He struggled, but her grip was iron, her strength absolute. All he could do was endure as she thoroughly taught him a lesson about respect and acceptance.

Lois’s biceps swelled and surged with power, the dense muscle flexing as she effortlessly controlled him with one arm while raising her other hand high. Her powerful palm slammed down, smacking against the lacy fabric of his pink underwear with enough force to send a sharp sting rippling through his backside. No doubt his bottom was already swelling with pain, turning a deep, rosy hue beneath the thin fabric—a sight Lois could see clearly, thanks to her super-powered vision. And as Superman was starting to see—no, realize—his struggles were in vain. He wasn’t going anywhere. He really was learning a painful lesson, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he didn’t know what hurt more: the physical sting of Lois’s smacks, or the crushing truth of her muscular and super-powered supremacy.

Smack!

“Are you ready to behave?” Lois asked, her voice still teasing but undercut with authority.

Smack!

“Are you ready to be a big boy and not a little baby?”

Smack!

“Ready to apologize?”

Superman kicked his legs weakly, his hands pushing against her thick thighs, but it was hopeless. She was immovable, her grip unbreakable. His body jolted with every smack, and the fortress walls rang with the sharp sounds of her discipline.

Smack!

“If you can’t act like Superman—”

Smack!

“Then at least act like a man.”

“I’m sorry!” he finally cried out between spanks, his voice cracking. “You’re more super now! I accept it! I accept you!”

Lois finally relented, lifting him with ease and setting him on her lap. He barely even noticed how small he felt there until she shifted, drawing his attention to the fact that he fit entirely within her grasp. Just one of her thighs was practically larger than his whole body, her calves bigger than his once-powerful thighs.

Superman wasn’t just truly and deeply sorry.

He felt like a properly punished child.

“Are you sorry?” Lois asked, her tone stern.

“Yes!” Superman sobbed. “I’m sorry!”

Lois set him back on his feet, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Good. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before throwing a tantrum.”

Superman sniffled, his face burning with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Lois.”

“You’re more than just sorry,” Lois said with a smirk. “You’re a sorry excuse for a Superman. But don’t worry—you’ll make a great sidekick.”

As Superman rubbed his sore bottom, he realized she was right. He wasn’t Superman anymore. The S on his super suit might as well stand for sad sap—that was if he was wearing his super suit and not Lois’s blue dress. But in a way, he realized just how fitting it was that he was wearing Lois’s dress. Not that it actually fit him, but because it made him realize they had done more than just swap clothes...

Looking at Lois, he realized for the first time, without any jealousy or pangs of envy, that she not only filled out his super suit better than he ever had or could, but that she would fill his role as Earth’s greatest hero. And it was as if he looked upon her for the very first time, admiring every curve, every bulge, every ripple, every sinew, every pulsing and throbbing vein. Lois, noticing the awestruck look in his eyes, struck a heroic hands-on-hips pose for him, puffing up her chest, flaring out her lats, squaring up her shoulders, and stretching that smile of hers just as she stretched the outfit to its limits. Then she brought up her arms and flexed, and her biceps exploded to a size that made all her prior flexes look small. Whatever remained of her sleeves ripped and tore away, falling to the ground like confetti in a celebration of her muscular supremacy.

Seeing such a muscular display nearly blew Superman’s mind, but he also nearly blew his top as well, as those panties on him had never been tighter than they were now. Watching Lois flex made him do a little... well, not really little, flex of his own in approval. But when Lois gave the palm of her hand a soft, sensual kiss while squeezing that arm’s bicep as hard as she could, making it swell up, the veins pulsing out, she really blew him away, as she blew him that kiss.

At first, Superman tried to stand his ground, his blue dress billowing in the gust of Lois’s super breath. He had to put his hands down in front of him to keep it from exposing his pink panties and his admiration of Lois and her mighty female muscles.

But the gale-force wind of her sweet kiss was too much for Superman, and once again, he found himself spinning round and round. He spun there, enraptured, caught in Lois’s kiss, and he realized how much he loved her. And that wasn’t just hot air. He lost himself in her sweet breeze, spinning round and round and round—until, with a sudden burst of super-speed, Lois zipped past him, positioning herself just right—so he spun straight into her waiting arms. She took him in with those brawny, bulging arms and kissed him like he had never been kissed before, dipping him, nibbling on his lips, kissing him softly, all while squeezing him in a loving but hard crushing embrace.

The kiss left Superman breathless, but it also made him feel like he was floating. Perhaps that was partially because he was actually floating, hovering above the ground for a few seconds before he set himself back down and came back down to Earth. And as he touched down on wobbly knees, he had never felt weaker, swooning over Lois and that super kiss she’d just given him. He realized it really was quite super that she now had superpowers. And while he might not be the same Superman he once was, he was still every inch the man he was where it counted.

Something he noticed Lois noticing.

The bulge from his pink panties was sticking out, lifting the hem of his blue dress up.

His face burned with embarrassment. While most of his blood was diverted elsewhere, he still found enough to color his cheeks a rosy hue. As he tried to pull down the front of the dress to cover himself, Lois smiled and really looked him over with an intense and approving gaze. He knew full well she was using her super X-ray vision on him, and Superman found that exciting. But he still fawned and covered up, playing along with it, because it made him feel so strange and tingly.

Lois smiled. “I knew you’d come around... Maybe later, you can come around again. But why don’t we go out for patrol, and you show me the ropes?”

Then, without warning, smack!

She slapped his behind, and he squealed.

“Go change,” she teased.

Superman rubbed his bottom, grinning at her, then zoomed off. Maybe not as fast as he once was, but he was back in a flash, wearing one of his spare superhero suits.

It fit his shrunken form. Though not sagging, it wasn’t exactly tight either. A bit loose in some parts, but just as snug as where it mattered.

He couldn’t help himself. He struck the old pose.

Lois smiled at him, looking him over with approval, lingering over his red trunks.

Superman smiled and returned her wink with one of his own.

He knew that she knew that he was still wearing her pink panties...

His pink panties.

And why not? They felt good on him. They made him feel sexy.

And to him, that was what the S could stand for—her sexy little Superman.

Or, as Lois put it, slapping his ass one last time...

Her sexy little sidekick.

“Come on, my sexy lil’ sidekick. We got a world to save.”

And regardless of what the S actually stood for, he knew he’d always stand by Lois, supporting her in her fight for truth, justice and the Amer—make that and the Amazonian way!