Lois had harbored suspicions about Clark for a while.
Not him being Superman. She knew about that. Clark wasn't able to keep himself from telling her for very long after they got together.
No, her suspicions were about something else entirely.
It started before they had even stumbled into each other's arms, before Lois had grabbed his hand on the way out of The Planet one night and finally broke the tension that'd been simmering between them for months.
They were in a cab stuck in traffic, on their way to interview a source. She had forgotten to eat lunch and the constant stop-go motion of the cars was irritating her head even more. It didn't help that she was, admittedly, a little harsh with Clark at the time. His kind and gentle demeanor with everyone they came across was growing on her, but that didn't mean he was a good enough journalist to share her beat. So when she dropped her pen while going over her preliminary notes, and Clark quickly picked it up for her, she let herself tease him.
"Wow, what a good boy."
His cheeks immediately pinked. His eyes darted away, and he shuffled back into his seat to look out the window. He was quiet the rest of the ride.
Interesting.
Not that she was planning on getting involved with Clark Kent of all people, of course. But it was interesting.
………………………..
When they did start seeing each other on a regular basis, the memory crept up again. And again.
Maybe it was something in the way he lifted his eyebrows just a little when he asked her what she wanted for dinner, prepared to fly around the world to get her fresh Dim Sum. Maybe it was the sweet, slow grin that spread across his face in the morning when they woke up tangled together. Or the way those silly curls fell onto his forehead after a long day of research.
He was just so sweet.
She hadn't been this worked up since the first time she had dated a coworker. I didn't take her long to figure out he was using her for her story, but in the few days the grift had run, she had flexed her dominance as never before. Even if it was fake, the man at least knew how to please a Dom. And so did a few of the rare play partners she'd had since, she really couldn't complain. But she had yet to come across someone who acted as wholly devoted as him.
As Clark would be.
Stop it.
As much as she liked the idea, she just wasn't sure it was worth the risk. She remembered how defensive and terse he had gotten during his interview as Superman. If he couldn't handle her asking him basic questions about his choices, how we he react to the idea of her taking his choice away?
He looked up from his desk.
Shit. She had been staring. She dropped her chin and pretended to be preoccupied with the notes in front of her.
She was too late. Clark got up from his desk and was making his way over to her in his slightly gangly way. "Everything okay?"
Lois closed the folder she was pretending to study. "Fine," she said. "Just having a hard time focusing today. Do you still want to come by for dinner tonight?"
"Wouldn't miss it." He grinned. The dopey look lit up her corner of the world with sunshine.
God, that fucking smile.
She wanted to destroy him.
…………………………….
Lois sat at her kitchen island, nursing her wine and fiercely arguing with herself.
Clark was washing dishes from the dinner they had made together. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, a towel slung over his shoulder, and these facts were not helping her situation.
If she was losing her focus at work, then she couldn't keep trying to ignore the situation. She had to bring it up. It didn't matter if he accepted the idea, or (more likely) rejected it, she would have an answer.
And it would be fine if he said no. It wasn't like it was a requirement for her in a relationship. And even if it was, it's not like this would last forever. At some point, he would get sick of her combativeness and need for control, even if she wasn't acting on it during sex. That's what always happened.
Her stomach twisted. She had to get this over with.
"You're such a good boy for me."
Clark's shoulders stiffened beneath his shirt.
Her heart pounded.
Clark looked at her over his shoulder. The water ran over his still hands.
"Why do you say it like that?"
Lois sipped her wine innocently. "Like what?"
His eyebrows furrowed. “Like you mean it."
That wasn’t the answer she was expecting.
"Do you think I'm just teasing you?"
“Aren't you?"
Lois set down the glass and walked around the counter. She placed her hands on Clark’s hips and guided him around to face her. He went willingly.
He looked down at her. His impossibly bright blue eyes were wide and confused. It reminded her of his first days at The Planet, when he was brand new to a real city newsroom. She had to remember that under all the layers, he was still a farm boy from Kansas. She was going to have to ease him into this.
She placed one hand on his chest and fiddled with his top most shirt button. "I think," she said slowly. "That it makes you feel things when I call you a good boy."
He stiffened and let out a breathy laugh. He turned his head to the side, suddenly unable to look at her. "What? No. That doesn't make any sense."
Oh, honey.
It was one thing if Clark didn't want to try it. It was another if he didn't think he was allowed to have it.
Lois pulled back enough to look at his face. She gently touched his chin and angled his gaze back to hers. "Will you come sit on the couch with me? I want to talk to you about something."
His brow was still furrowed but he nodded, as trusting as she'd come to know. She kissed him.
Clark kissed her back just as hard, just as desperate for each other as they had become. Any other night she would let him pick her up and carry her, but she needed more control over the situation.
Lois broke the kiss. "Go sit," she said. "I'll make us some tea."
He opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind. He nodded and obeyed.
However this turned out, they were off to a good start.
………………………………..
Clark sipped his tea slowly, staring at Lois as he processed all the information she had just given him.
She had started off with a joke about Smallville's presumable lack of sex ed. When he didn't laugh, she cleared her throat and asked him if he had ever heard of a concept called BDSM.
"I have," Clark said. To his credit, his cheeks only darkened a little. "It's not something I have much knowledge of."
His expression didn't change much as she ran a brief walkthrough of sub and Dom dynamics. She left out more intense discussions of sadism and masochism for another time (if there was another time.) He looked just as he did when interviewing a source, focused on soaking up as much information as possible.
"I think..." Lois floundered.
After a few moments of silence, Clark leaned forward. "You think what?"
She swallowed. This was the scariest part.
This is where Clark could recoil, horrified by her words. When he would get offended and storm out, ignore her at work and never call her again. This is when he would yell at her for suggesting he was even capable of these kinds of thoughts.
Lois took a deep breath. She had to be brave. She had to know.
She could handle any answer, but the not knowing was tearing her apart.
She set her tea to the side and scooted closer to his side of the couch. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back ever so slightly, letting herself feel his warm weight move under her touch. She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.
"I think that you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders," Lois whispered. "I think there's never a moment when you're not thinking about what you can do to help people. I think you work two full-time jobs and do them both terrifically. I think you show up and do your best every moment of every day. And I think, after all of that, you deserve to be told how good you are."
Now she looked up at his face.
Clark stared down at her in awe.
"You do everything for everyone else," she blurted. Now that she had started, she couldn't stop. She hadn't realized how hard it was her for to hide this part of herself from him. Is this what he felt like keeping Superman a secret?
"I think that you would enjoy having a set structured time when you are intentionally not in control. I think you would like it, and it would be good for you. But you don't have to! It was just an idea. A spitball."
"You think I'm good?"
This stopped Lois's hyperactive train of thought in its tracks. "What? Of course I think you're good, Clark. Before you're anything else, you're a good man."
It was his turn not to meet her eyes. Apparently there was suddenly something interesting in his lap.
"But we fought. You said I made the wrong choices."
"Sweetheart," Lois said. It was uncharacteristically affectionate of her, and it brought Clark's eyes back up to hers immediately.
She ran her hand through his curls. To her surprise, he openly leaned into her touch.
"Just because I don't always agree with your choices doesn't mean I don't think you're a good person." She sighed. "This is exactly what I'm talking about."
Clark made a face. “You're going to have to explain it to me again," he said. "because I don't get it."
She took another deep breath. "It's like this, Clark. And if I'm wrong, you jump in and correct me at any point. But I don't think I'm wrong."
Lois put a few inches between them and squared her shoulders. Clark didn't seem to notice how he leaned in after her.
"Go on, then," he said.
"You live to please," she said. He opened his mouth to object, but nothing came out. After a beat of silence, she continued. "That's what I thought. You loving pleasing the entire world, of course, but there are a few select people you like pleasing more. Perry, for one, and your parents too. But I think you like pleasing me most of all. Do you want to know why?"
Clark only stared, for once speechless.
"I'll take that as a yes. You think I don't notice all the things you do for me, Clark? How my coffee is somehow still warm when everyone else's has gone cold? How my laundry is magically folded and put away when I come home? Not to mention how many hours you spend between my legs uninterrupted. You like doing things for me, and you like it when I praise you for it. Am I wrong?"
Now came the blush she had been waiting for. His dimples sneaked out in the surprised shape of his mouth.
Her stupid heart fluttered. This was going to hurt.
"I...guess not," Clark said.
It took her a moment to process what he had said. She had been so prepared for him to shut down and demand they never talk about this again.
A thrill ran through her. She felt a giddy urge to pump her fists and cheer, but she kept her composure.
“Good," she said. "Again, this is not something we have to explore if you're not comfortable with it. Just because I like something doesn't mean you have to like it, no matter how much you want to please. So if you want to stop talking about it now, let's stop now."
"I didn't say I wanted to stop talking about it."
She held his gaze, serious and steady. "Are you sure?"
"Not at all," he said. "But I want to try."
Lois couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. This was really happening.
"Okay," she said. "Let's talk about it."
She ended up brewing them two more pots of tea over the course of the next several hours. She explained her role and experience as a dominant, from her first discoveries in college to the estimated number of subs she’d been with since. She told him why she enjoyed established kink relationships and how she liked to treat her play partners. In return, he asked attentive questions about submission and the relationship structure.
"I still don't see why you think I would like this," Clark said.
"It's not a judgement of your character, Clark." She sighed. "I don't look at you and see a weak man I can pin down and do whatever I want with. I see a strong, capable person who is always carrying a full load. You have to make impossible decisions every day. All I'm offering is a pre-negotiated environment where you wouldn't have to make any choices at all. All you would have to do is trust me."
The corner of his lip twitched. " I can't say I hate the sound of that. I do have one more question though. How would this change us, what we have going here?" He gestured between them.
"That is a very good question, Clark," she said. "The relationships would be intersected in a sense, but independent of each other. If you decide you don't want a kink relationship, our romantic relationship will stay the same. In other words, I won't love you any less."
And oh, didn't he just bloom under those words. He always got that goofy smile when she said she loved him, but this time there was a beautiful vulnerability tethered to it.
"Okay," he said, his smile infecting his voice. "As long as you don't love me any less." He looked at her expectantly. "So what do I do?"
Lois raised her eyebrows. She had expected him to want to sleep on it, at the very least. But if he was ready, so was she.
"First things first," she said. "Ground rules. Not that you can't get out of anything I could put you in, but if you want to stop at any point, say the word 'red.' If your mouth is otherwise occupied, you can tap my leg twice instead. I don’t know what title I want you to use for me yet, so you can refer to me as Ma'am, if I allow you to refer to me at all. And finally, you will not come until I tell you to. Do you consent?"
Clark looked like a wide-eyed virgin on prom night. "Yes." He cleared his throat. "Yes, I consent."
"Good," she said. "Get on your knees in front of me. Now."
He was quick to obey, nearly stumbling as he made a way for himself between the couch and the coffee table. He looked up from his place beneath her.
Lois took advantage of this and placed her hand on his throat. He twitched at the touch, looking dubiously between Lois and her hand.
"Do you trust me?" she whispered.
Those bright blue eyes were full of adoration and devotion. She had been so right about him.
"With my life," he whispered back.
She pressed her hand harder, squeezing where his blood hypothetically flowed to his brain. She doubted she possessed the strength required to choke a Kryptonian, but that was hardly the point.
The result she hadn't been expecting, though, was the slight whimper that escaped.
She had been so right about him.
She slid her hand from his throat to his hair and leaned down to kiss him.
It was nothing like their kiss in the kitchen. That one had a sense of balance to it, a push and pull between her determination and his sheer size. Now, with him physically beneath her, her fingers threaded through his curls, there was no question who controlled the kiss.
She pulled her lips away. Clark chased after them ever so slightly.
Despite his apparent eagerness, she felt compelled to check in again. "What do you say if you need to stop?"
Clark swallowed. "Red."
"Good boy."
This time when she said it, she felt a whole shiver wrack his body. How much had he been containing himself the other times she said those words?
"Come here," Lois said. She coaxed him up on top of her, both of them horizontal on the couch. She grabbed his throat and kissed him again, soaking up every bit of his desperation.
She reached down with one hand to unbutton his pants. She pushed them just low enough on his hips to pull him out of his boxers.
Clark groaned and shook in her arms.
Lois made a quick assessment and pulled her hand away. A shuddering breath left his lips.
"There's a bottle in my nightstand. Be a good boy and go get it, won't you?"
He was back in less than a second.
She rearranged herself comfortably underneath him and pulled him in between her legs. She filled her palm with lube from the pump and reached down to touch him again.
Clark's frame shook against her. She maintained a steady pace, pulling soft moans and gasps from his throat.
Lois put her lips up to his ear. "You're being such a good boy for me," she whispered. "Do you want more?"
He nodded, his temple brushing against hers.
"I need to hear you say it."
"I-I want more," Clark stammered out, several shades redder than she'd ever seen him.
"Ask nicely," she teased. "I told you what to call me."
"Please, Ma'am," he groaned. "please, I want more."
His crystalline eyes pleaded with her, and for the first time, Lois realized she might be sunk.
"Good boy," she said. "I'm glad you're decent at begging, because I don't think I could wait much longer to have you."
Lois unbuttoned her pants and pushed them down to her knees, then her underwear. She pulled him back against her, aligning her lower lips with his tip. Instead of letting him inside her, she grinded back and forth against him.
Clark groaned and dropped his head on her shoulder. She put an arm around his back to keep him close as she teased him, letting him feel how wet she was while overstimulating his nerves.
His moans grew louder in her ear. She turned her head to kiss him first on his cheek, then on that silly little dimple.
"Beg for what you want," she said. "and you just might get it."
"Please Ma'am," Clark cried. "I want--I need--I need you."
Lois slid her hips down ever so slightly, letting Clark arch up into her. This part never disappointed, but there was something distinctly different about it this time. There was an electricity built up between them that made every touch and grind and thrust something otherworldly.
She let him pound her through several orgasms with the help of his obedient fingers on her clit. She kept her hand around his throat each time she came, squeezing to show him just how much pleasure he gave her. The more she praised him, the harder he gave it.
Just as she had predicted.
He could last a long time, but not forever—especially with the constant stream of Lois’s praise in his ear. Eventually his hips started to stutter, and he dropped his forehead to her collarbone.
"Please," his voice was barely a whisper.
"Please what?"
"Lois," he groaned.
She smacked him on the ass, hard. For a human, at least. "Not my name."
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," he said. "Please, ma'am, please let me finish."
God, he begged so prettily. Could he be more perfect?
"You have been good," she hummed. "Come for me, good boy."
It was hard to pick a favorite part of having sex with Superman, but this was certainly up there. When Clark was closing to coming and wasn't holding himself back anymore, he gave it fast, and he gave it hard.
He pounded her into a fifth orgasm, then a sixth, before his hips stuttered and stopped. He moaned, long and low, sinking his teeth into Lois's shoulder and coming inside her.
They laid together, clutching onto the other's sweaty bodies. He was heavy, but she found the weight of him comforting, especially after a scene.
When she finally caught her breath, she asked the question that would determine everything.
"Did you like that?"
Clark lifted his face from her chest and smiled at her. His hair was a mess from her hands, and his face was flushed, but his eyes were bright. He looked like a man without a care in the world.
Mission accomplished.
"I did," he said. "Do you promise that's not weird?"
"Don't be a prude, Kansas. It's not weird to like kinky sex."
"Let me rephrase--you promise it's not weird that Superman likes to be pinned down and told what to do?"
She tilted his chin up and kissed him. "Wanting to be dominated is the least weird thing about you."
He pressed his cheek back to her chest. She could feel his sleepy smile on her skin.
Lois may have found herself a sub after all.
END PART ONE
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if you’ve gotten this far, thank you so much for reading!