"please, baby please, just look at me!" clark whines, as you lay up, staring at your phone in your shared bed. he's kneeling in front of you, peppering kisses up your legs.
he forgot your date, your big dinner date together after he had been so busy all week with daily planet mumbo jumbo. he flew home, late, opening the door and seeing you all dolled up waiting on the bed for him. heels and everything. and oh, did you look so sexy when you were mad.
so you glared at clark, after he was begging for forgiveness for about 30 minutes already. "oh stop, please! not like that..." he mumbles, large hands running over your thighs. "you know i didn't mean to miss it, i was-"
"-busy. sure, clark." this is the first you've spoken since his initial arrival, and you used his name. not honey, babe, baby. clark. boy was he in trouble.
"you know i was! i was on superman duty this time around, please. i didn't forget you."
"saving the world but couldn't save the date, huh?" you snap, rolling your eyes. "just get off me, go sleep on the couch."
but clark always believed in never going to bed mad. especially mad enough where you made him sleep in a different room. so he purred, thighs moving up higher. "please, hon, let me make it up to you," he grinned, with his stupid hung smile, and really tried to persuade you.
and it almost worked, almost. until his fingers rubbed over your clit and the sole of your heel instinctively went to his forehead, pushing him back onto his elbows. and although he could've resisted, he let you. "no, clark! you don't deserve it," you hissed, eyeing his body.
and that's when you saw his raging boner through his slacks. hm.
you moved your heel to his crotch, lightly grazing his hard-on. "oh, so you like this? me being mean to you?" clark inhaled sharply, face immediately turning red.
"no, n-no! i-" but you cut him off by pushing your foot into his cock, earning a moan from him.
"don't fucking lie to me." he instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, panting. but you added more pressure, literally and figuratively. "look at me, and answer my question."
"golly, baby. y-yes." he gulps, staring at you with puppydog eyes. you wanted to ruin him, show him what being mean really meant.
"who knew," you began, as you slowly stared rubbing your heel back and forth onto his clothed cock, "that superman gets turned on by being treated like a little bitch." he shivered at both your actions and your words. "say it, clark. you like being my bitch, hm?"
"i... i can't," he breathes, unable to bring himself to say such degrading words. especially about himself. he can't even bring himself to swear, what makes you think he can talk so dirty? but the thought of following you around helplessly like a servant, oh...
he snaps out of his thoughts when he hears the "oh. alright then, guess you're not serious about being sorry," you mumble, as you begin to move your feet back and turn over. but clark grabs your ankle, placing your heels back on his cock. you open your mouth to scold him for touching you, but he speaks before you can.
"i like being your bitch... please. don't stop." you smile at him, a real smile. first one he's seen all night. but there's something sinister behind your eyes. he can't think much about it when you continue to rub him through his slacks, hips bucking up to meet your movements.
"that wasn't so hard, was it clarkie? such a good boy for me," you purr, clarks hips stuttering at the pet name. you don't miss it, pushing even harder. he lets out a deep moan, like he was meant to be under you always.
"i'm, i'm close. please, baby." you increase the speed of your ministrations, clark falling apart underneath you. his lips part and whimpers fall from his mouth. he's sweating, hips bucking feverishly now. "please, oh gosh, that's it-"
until it stops. he tries to hold on to your ankle again, but you pull your foot away. harder. he meets your eyes with a betrayed gasp, "wh," following you forward. he humpschases your leg, looking up at you like a hurt puppy. "what, why? i... i was so close, i thought i was your good boy, why did you-"
you cut off his rambling. "not good enough, clark." he whines, guttural. like it really physically pains him to hear that from you. but it makes his cock throb in his pants. you lean forward to his ear, and whisper, "i'm gonna edge you for as long as i want, mkay? maybe, what, five times for the five hours you kept me waiting for? and then i'll forgive you."
he looks around nervously, and coughs. you can't be serious, right? while he begins to talk, you begin to unbuckle his belt. "five.. times..." he repeats, breathily, in utter disbelief.
"mhmm. then you'll really be my good boy." and then, suddenly, clark's ready and agreeing for a night of torture, just to be good for you.
