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Lois woke up in an unfamiliar and downright uncanny room. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she took in the view of a room that looked more appropriate for a five year old girl than a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. Pink wallpaper with smiling elephants holding umbrellas in their trunks lined all four sides. A collection of stuffed animals sat on top of a toy chest, and now that she wasn’t so groggy anymore, she could feel the soft fur of a teddy bear tucked in her right arm.
"Oh, right. Now I remember," Lois remarked. "The Toyman."
Winslow Schott was a criminal obsessed with old toys, and he had a penchant for designing oversized robotic versions of said playthings to carry out his crimes. He wasn’t usually the kind of villain one worried about while living in Metropolis. But with the Man of Steel off-world to assist the Green Lanterns with yet another intergalactic tyrant, he'd seized the moment... and the Daily Planet. Dozens of human-sized robots dressed and armed like toy soldiers had broken into the newspaper establishment, terrorizing columnists and photographers.
Ever the one to make the sacrifice play, Lois Lane had offered herself up as a hostage. The Toyman might be an odd fellow who teetered on the edge of sanity, but he was willing to strike a bargain. If Lois left with him, he'd leave the Planet without harming anyone else. The next thing she knew, she was knocked out by a foul-smelling liquid and passed out in his arms.
And now she was here, in what might as well be a nursery. Panicking, she checked the bear she was holding to see if there was an explosive or a biological weapon. But as far as she could tell, it really was just a harmless old teddy bear. Thoroughly vexed, she tossed it across the room to bounce off of the other stuffies.
"Creep," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Where is he anyway?"
Lois got up and surveyed the room. Looking through the west side window, she could see that she was not in some remote country home. Rather she was in an enormous dollhouse, which was inside of a presumably abandoned warehouse. There was a lawn two stories down, where four robots who looked like anthropomorphic mice tossed a ball back and forth. Just outside of the gates were the army men that had attacked the Planet, now patrolling the building.
She was trapped.
Turning her mind to what was actually in the room, she opened the wardrobe and found a surprising number of dresses, shoes and accessories. They were several decades out of fashion, but cute in their own way. Lois had played with dolls that wore similar clothes when she was a child. She closed the wardrobe, and made her way over to the vanity table, where she was in for quite a shock.
While she was still in the violet business jacket and matching pencil skirt she always wore on Thursdays, there was an obvious change in her appearance. Her face had been carefully done in makeup- she had blue eyeshadow, pale lipstick and her cheeks were downright rosy. At first she wanted to say that she had been painted like a clown. But what she quickly realized was that she looked like a doll... and a baby one at that.
"Oh for the love of...!" Lois stopped short and fumbled through the drawers of the vanity to find something to remove her makeup.
"I would not do that if I were you, Ms. Lane. I worked ever so hard on it."
"You!" Lois spun on her heel and pointed an accusatory finger at her captor. "Where have you brought me? What do you want with me?"
"To my playhouse, Ms. Lane," Schott said, gesturing around the room with glowing pride. "And I want you to be my playmate this evening."
Lois thought she was going to be sick. "Is this some weird sex thing, Winslow?"
To her surprise, Winslow looked disgusted and offended by the idea.
"Please don't think so little of me, Ms. Lane," he scoffed. "The only thing I desire is your company at my tea party downstairs. And, if you would indulge me by dressing for the occasion, I would be most delighted."
Lois was relieved, though no less confused. What was his angle here?
"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?" Lois asked, setting her hands on her hips and scowling at him.
"I don't want the company of a successful adult woman, Ms. Lane," Winslow explained, crossing the room and opening the wardrobe again. "If you were to dress as a charming young girl, however? Well then, you'd be perfectly at home in this dollhouse - and not distracting from the reality I've created for myself here."
"Are you sure this isn't a sex thing?" Lois asked again, wondering just what kind of pervert she was really dealing with here.
"Positive," Winslow said darkly. "I have never been interested in that sort of thing, and in fact I would prefer if you kept such filthy talk out of your mouth while in my presence."
Lois balked. "Or what?"
"I'll wash your mouth with soap, for starters," Winslow answered with utter confidence. "That's non-negotiable. However, your manner of dress is entirely up to you. If you will not comply with my wishes, feel free to stay confined to this room and starve yourself to death. If you would like anything to eat however, you must dress the part of a darling doll and come to my dining room."
Lois was flabbergasted. She hadn’t been threatened with a mouth soaping in almost twenty years. And before she could even consider what soap would taste like, her stomach growled at the mention of food.
"So everything is going to be fine as long as I play by your rules, huh? Is that what I'm understanding?" she asked, thoroughly insulted.
"That is the nature of the game, yes," Winslow said with an approving smile. "Goodbye, Ms. Lane. I surely hope that little Miss Lane will join me shortly."
With that, he left the room and closed the door, leaving Lois completely alone with her thoughts. They dwelled primarily on how his pointed use of “Miss” felt particularly infantilizing in tandem with his particular dress code.
"Dammit. Where's Superman when you really need him?" Lois demanded of the universe. She had expected him to come to her rescue long before now, as was his custom. The mysterious and gorgeous Kryptonian had saved her life no less than seven times in the last year, and that was just in person. With how often he saved Metropolis as a whole from Lex Luthor’s schemes or invading aliens, she was sure she owed him at least a dozen more life debts. He clearly had some kind of interest in her that went beyond his general protective nature. Either that, or she really had a knack for getting into trouble.
She spent a full five minutes pondering his whereabouts and daydreaming about being whisked away in his powerful arms. But soon, her empty tummy started to nag at her, and brought her back to the reality of the present.
"Ohh... I swear, if Perry ever hears about this I'm moving to Star City!" she declared, going to the wardrobe and looking over what was available to her.
In another twenty minutes, Lois descended the stairs and followed the sound of a kettle brewing. It seemed that the Toyman had been completely serious about throwing a tea party after all. When she found Winslow, he was sitting at the head of a table that would comfortably sit six. A platter of sandwiches adorned the middle, while trays of fruits and vegetables flanked it. At the other end, there was a plate and silverware obviously intended for her use, as well as a teacup next to a bowl with cream and sugar.
"Goodness, Miss Lane," Winslow greeted her enthusiastically. "You look as cute as a button."
Lois grumbled, lifted the skirt of her dress in an awkward, cranky curtsy and sighed. "Yeah, I guess so."
Lois had chosen a navy blue dress that went past her knees, adorned with red polkadots and held together with a scarlet sash that had a bow in the back. She had traded her pantyhose for bobby socks and her work heels for ballet flats. And while she wouldn't admit it, she had enjoyed finding a large bow to put on the back of her head, framing the ponytail she'd tied her hair into. It matched the one around her waist and that brought Lois as much satisfaction as she could glean from being made to wear such a saccharine outfit.
The next half hour was filled with an awkward lunch. Winslow seemed truly appreciative of her company, and was happy to bring her tea or napkins or anything else she asked for. But to stop him from pestering her, Lois followed her reporter’s instinct and asked him questions to get him to talk about himself. She learned of his sad and lonely childhood, where he was bullied for loving toys even when he was too old for them, and how his father had been set up as a fall guy for a powerful gangster and died in prison before his parole was up. For a little while, she could even sympathize with him - until he explained that his plan to make up for his unhappy adolescence was to take it out on Metropolis and turn the city into his own personal toybox.
"When I run this town, everyone will love me!" he declared, slamming his fist on the table. "They'll see how much better life is when things are fun and carefree, and all you ever have to do is play."
"So under all the robots and the bombs and bluster, you're really just a sad little boy crying out for attention?" Lois observed smugly.
"Miss Lane, I suppose you intend that to be an insult," Winslow growled. His angrier, more unhinged side was starting to show. "I do not care for bullies in my playhouse. Perhaps I ought to wash your mouth out after all."
Schott never got a chance to carry out such a humiliating consequence. Just as Lois had suspected, Superman arrived on the scene. In short order, he dispatched the robots and booby traps in spectacular fashion. There was nothing the Toyman could throw at him that was really threatening, and soon the two colorfully costumed foes were face to face. After one measured punch, Lois' kidnapper was on the floor.
"My hero!" Lois exclaimed without irony, rushing over to throw herself into his arms. She placed her hands on his pectoral muscles and rested her head against his chest so she could hear his heartbeat trumpeting like a marching band. "You sure took your time!"
"Despero is a lot tougher than this poor fellow," Superman explained. He patted Lois' back to comfort her and then held her at arm's length before she got too attached. "What on earth are you wearing?"
Lois looked down at her clothes, and suddenly remembered that she was wearing an outfit that her mother might have worn growing up. In all of the excitement, she had forgotten about her attire, and was now overcome with embarrassment. Blushing furiously, she tried to pass it off as humorous by giggling unconvincingly.
“Oh ho, this old thing? Haha. Well, this might not surprise you, but since I was Mister Schott’s hostage over here, he wanted me to dress like a little girl. Or a doll. So here I am, looking ‘cute as a button’ according to him,” she explained. “Isn’t it dreadful?”
Were her eyes playing tricks on her, or did Superman swallow a lump in his throat?
“Dreadful isn’t exactly the word I would use,” he confessed, scratching the back of his neck. Then his brow furrowed, and he looked at the now sleeping Toyman, who was drooling on the tacky rug in front of the kitchen sink. “Did he put this on you?”
“No, I don’t think he could have handled undressing me,” Lois said honestly. “He seemed skeeved out by the idea of anything related to sex. Which is a blessing, you know?”
“Then why are you wearing it?” Superman raised his eyebrow, clearly not connecting the dots.
“Well, I was a hostage! He said if I wanted to come out of my room and eat, I had to dress up and be his playmate,” she explained.
“You have a room?” Superman inquired.
“Yes, I woke up in a room that looks like a damn nursery with a teddy bear in my arms. He’s a weird guy, okay? Stop interrupting! Anyway, he said I had to play by his rules or he’d wash my mouth with soap!” Lois recalled, stomping her foot in irritation. “Can you believe him? The absolute nerve.”
“And there’s such better ways to punish you,” the Kryptonian mumbled.
Lois’ jaw slacked. Her eyes blinked several times, as if waking up from a dream. But no, Superman was still there, all six foot three of him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, crossing her arms.
“What’s what supposed to mean?” he said innocently.
“What on earth would you ever want to punish me for, Superman?” she tapped her foot expectantly, believing that she was in complete control of the situation and was about to make Superman apologize profusely.
Instead, he smirked. He crossed his arms and stood up straighter, so that he could look down at her in a way that was somewhere between condescending and protective. It made her weak in the knees.
“Did you volunteer to be his hostage, Ms. Lane?” he accused. “That’s the word I heard around the Planet.”
“Why, yes, as a matter of fact. Is that a crime?” Lois balked. “I bargained with him so he wouldn’t hurt anyone else, and it worked. It’s exactly what you would have done!”
“Perhaps,” Superman conceded. “But you aren’t invulnerable, are you? You could have gotten hurt in any number of ways.”
“I knew you’d rescue me!” Lois exclaimed, waving him off. “You always do.”
Superman walked over to her, and Lois somehow managed to stand her ground. Even when he was walking with determination, it was impossible for such a kind and gentle man to look threatening to her. She wasn’t a criminal or a mad scientist after all. She was an innocent bystander who had acted heroically. What on earth did she have to fear?
Then he pressed his open palm under her chin and gently lifted it so that she was looking directly into his piercing blue eyes.
“That sounds familiar,” Superman stated gruffly. “Do you remember the last you told me that you hadn’t actually done something dangerous because you knew I would be there to save you?”
Now it was Lois’ turn to gulp. She recalled that occasion vividly. Her brilliant deductive skills had led her to believe that Clark Kent, the office milksop, was actually Superman. Yes, his posture was awful and his voice was mousey and he was clumsy as all get out. But the two men were never in the same place at the same time, and he had a knack for turning in Superman pieces before she’d even gotten started. It made sense, and she’d boldly confronted him at the Daily Planet a few months ago. When he denied it over and over again, she resorted to the drastic measure of jumping out of a fifteenth story window with an impish grin on her face.
“After all, we both know you’ll catch me,” she’d declared in a sing-song voice.
She’d expected to be in Superman’s arms before she reached the tenth story. That hadn’t happened. In fact she was still falling when she was halfway to the concrete. When she was three fourths down and confronted with her mortality, she woefully declared that Clark wasn’t Superman after all, only to be rescued at the very last moment by Superman and deposited on the roof. It was the scariest moment she’d had in a very long time.
“Yes, I remember,” she said simply.
“And do you remember what I told you when I set you safely down next to the globe on the roof?”
“You said that I mustn’t ever deliberately put myself in danger again, and you joked that I deserved a good spanking for the stunt,” she recalled, flustered and ashamed all over again.
“I wasn’t joking.”
Her eyes grew as big as saucers. Surely, she was imagining things. Her sweet, soft-hearted romance novel model from another planet had not just said such a thing.
“Su...Superman?” she stammered. “Of course you were joking!”
“No, I was completely serious,” he assured her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Just because I’ve rescued you every time in the past, doesn’t mean there won’t come a day that I won’t be able to. Which means you should not go looking for trouble. We already had this discussion before, didn’t we?”
“Well, yes, but I-”
“And since you didn’t listen, I’m not going to be a gentleman this time,” Superman stated plainly.
Lois whined. “Superman, you’re not going to-”
“I am going to give you a spanking, Lois. A good, hard one that will make the lesson stick.”
There was absolutely no hint of humor or falsehood in his tone. Lois knew beyond all reasonable doubt that he intended to spank her. And since he was Superman, no force on Earth could stop him from doing so.
“But I’m a grown woman!” she beseeched, whimpering helplessly.
“Who should know how to act better!” he chided sharply, scolding her in the same tone he used when telling off Jimmy Olsen. “And grown you may be, but right now? You look every bit the sorry little girl who knows she’s in trouble.”
Lois could not deny this point. It wasn’t just the polka dot dress and the adorable bows or the painted blush on her cheeks that was making her look small and childish. Her knees were wobbly, her fingers were fidgety, her teeth were biting her bottom lip. And she had a powerful urge to cover her bottom.
“But! Superman, you-”
“Go to your room, young lady,” he ordered, with no room for disagreement.
Lois had butterflies the size of pelicans fluttering about in her stomach. She wanted to argue again, but lost the nerve. How could she disagree? The most moral, ethical, decent man she’d ever met thought she deserved to be punished for her actions. Surely he must be right? Superman always made the right choices precisely because they were the right choices. She deserved a spanking, now didn’t she?
“Yes Sir,” she answered after some thought. “I’ll go to my room.”
“And you’ll put your nose in the corner,” he added confidently.
“Superman!” she squeaked in protest.
She regretted it immediately. Superman snagged her wrists in his massive right hand. With his left, he administered two sharp slaps to her posterior.
“You’ll put your nose in the corner, Lois Lane,” he instructed again.
“I’ll put my nose in the corner, Sir!” she repeated, falling back on her only real reference point for this sort of situation. Before she was a reporter, she was an army brat, and her strict father had always insisted on being called “Sir” when he was disciplining her. It rarely involved spanking, but time outs weren’t unusual whenever she got too big for her britches.
“That’s better,” Clark said, delivering a third smack to Lois’ behind. “Go on!”
"Oh, that's not fair!" Lois whimpered, her voice going up several octaves.
Without heels, it was a much quicker run to the room she'd woken up in. Once she was there, she looked around for an empty corner, and found that she had two choices - the northwest one by the window, and the northeast one between the wardrobe and the vanity table. After briefly considering the thought of climbing through it on a rope made of bedding, Lois decided she didn't want to be anywhere near it and chose the northeast corner instead. Pressing her nose where one elephant covered wall met another, she rubbed and patted her bottom for comfort. She couldn’t help thinking about how sore it would be in short order. Why, with Superman's limitless strength, she might not be able to sit for a week!
Lois lost track of time as she waited for him to meet her there. But enough minutes passed that she began to wonder what he was doing. She wondered if perhaps he did not know where she'd gone, but that was ridiculous. His ears would have caught her going up the stairs, running down the hall and making a left turn. If he hadn't been paying attention, he could just use that blasted X-Ray vision of his. No, there was only one logical conclusion.
Superman was making her wait.
"How dare he?" Lois asked the universe, thoroughly offended at the notion. "I'm up here obeying his every word and he's dawdling?"
With her ire growing, Lois crossed her arms and glared menacingly at her stupid little corner. Several times she imagined that she would walk out of the corner and give him a piece of her mind, but she could not seem to find the gumption to actually do it. Her nose stayed glued to its post, and her mind settled on thoughts of how she'd volunteered for all of this. She'd made the dangerous choice to be Toyman's prisoner. It was her fault that she was in his dollhouse, and in this sickeningly cute outfit, and about to get her naughty bottom spanked by the Man of Steel.
My naughty bottom?! Lois silently demanded of herself, wondering how such an utterly mad thought had come into her head without even bothering to knock. Was she under some kind of hypnotic suggestion? Was that another of the five dozen powers the alien seemed to possess?
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Lane," came his familiar gentle baritone. Like Winslow, he was purposefully calling her 'Miss' instead of 'Ms.' and she took note of it. But while the Toyman's use had irritated her, hearing Superman call her "Miss Lane", knowing full well what he had promised to do, made her feel very naughty indeed.
"I had to make sure the Toyman was given over to the proper authorities," he explained. She could hear him walking closer to her, and then felt his strong hands press against her shoulders. "Now that he's taken care of, I can take care of you."
Hearing it phrased like that made Lois' heart beat so vehemently she thought it would burst through her chest.
"Have you been a good girl and stayed in time out for me, Lois?" he inquired in a way that almost seemed like teasing to her.
Lois wished he would use his heat vision to turn her into a pile of ashes. It would have been more bearable.
"Yes Sir. I've stayed put, just like you said."
"That must have been very hard," Superman acknowledged, and it filled Lois with relief. That was, it did until she felt his hand patting her rear end ominously. "I'm very proud of you."
"Does that mean I can get out of a spanking?" Lois pleaded, choking on the last word and suddenly finding herself unable to speak.
"No. I should have blistered your bottom last time you were so reckless, and this time I'm going to correct my mistake. And yours," he promised. She felt him take her by the hand, and started to pull her free from the corner. "Come on Lois. Let's get this started."
"Nooo!" she wailed, digging her heels into the carpet and trying to touch the corner with her free hand. "I don't want to get started!"
"I don't believe I was asking, Miss Lane," Superman grumbled, tugging her all the way across the room and nudging her forward with mean little pats on her behind.
"Oh! Ow! No, don't do that!" Lois sputtered in keeping with the tune of those terrible taps that signaled her imminent doom. Still, she walked towards the bed as he directed. Part of her wished she hadn’t thrown the teddy bear earlier, as she had an alarming urge to cuddle it.
"Lois, those did not even hurt," Superman admonished with a shake of his head. Then he dramatically took a seat in the middle of the mattress.
"Hmmph," Lois scoffed, putting her one free hand on her hip and turning up her nose. "Well, they hurt my pride if nothing else."
"You don't have anything to be proud about right now anyway," Superman bemoaned, condemning her with an agitated "tsk" noise. "Over my knee, young lady."
Lois gave into the toddlerish impulse to jump up and down while yelling "But I don’t want to!" She had no shame anymore, since the only person who could possibly see her acting this way was about to tan her hide.
"Oh, that settles it," he asserted, clearly exasperated with her. Using what Lois imagined was very little of his strength, he lifted her entire frame and placed her into position. "You are acting like a spoiled brat, Lois. And you are going to get the serious reprimand you've been asking for for a long time."
"I am not a spoiled brat!" Lois barked, wiggling frantically on his knee until he grabbed her tightly with his right arm. Being held snugly only made her squirm with more fervor. "And I have never once asked for a stupid spanking!"
In reply, the Man of Steel brought his hand down twice. They stung enough to make her shout, but were more to get her attention than anything. It worked, as she immediately stopped running amok on his lap and held still.
"Ouch! Superman!" she implored once again, knowing full well he would not grant her amnesty.
"Lois Lane," he began, smoothing out her skirt until he could feel the shape of her butt in his cupped hand. Lois clenched down on her bottom lip as she felt him resting there. "You are acting like a naughty little girl, so you are going to be treated accordingly. If I hear one word of sass..." His hand cracked against her upturned bottom. "Or disobedience..." Again his palm coaxed a yelp from her lips. "Or even coarse language, do you know what is going to happen to you?"
Lois kicked her legs at the knee in complaint, but otherwise stayed still, accepting her fate with some measure of cooperation. "No, I don't have the faintest idea! Oww!"
"If you can't talk like a good girl, then I'm going to wash your mouth out," he announced, punctuating this decree with five smacks of increasing sharpness before he spoke again. "Are we crystal clear?"
"Ouch! Yes! Yes we're clear! No backtalk, no arguing, no cursing!" she listed off urgently. If there was one thing that could possibly be worse than a spanking from Superman, it was an even more childish consequence after the fact. "No soap, Superman, please! I promise I'll be a good girl for you, I swear."
"I sure hope so, little lady," he recited, patting her bottom and making her sob drily. "Now, do you know what I think someone who deliberately breaks the rules deserves?"
"A spanking, obviously," Lois moped.
"Yes, but what kind of spanking?" he pressed.
"I don't know? Am I going to get a whipping?" she guessed, praying that she was wrong. Superman’s hand was plenty enough for her without the leather she remembered her Daddy using.
"No, I don’t need a belt. The spanking I'm thinking of is more embarrassing than painful. Though it will still sting plenty."
Lois was at a loss for an answer until he gave her a clue by tossing her skirt up so that it rested over her preposterous bow.
Lois gasped with sudden comprehension. "Not a bare bottom spanking?" Yesterday, she would have fantasized about Superman inching her panties down her shapely legs. Now the thought was making her panic.
"There’s no doubt you deserve one," Superman assessed. "But since I am a gentleman, I'm not going to undress a lady without consent. Not even a young lady."
Lois felt her stomach twisting into a knot and wondered if she would stop breathing. There was no way her mind, not to mention her heart, could handle the sheer humiliation he was putting her through.
"Are you expecting me to give you permission to spank my naked behind?" she blubbered in lament.
"No, I expect that you are going to try to give me a good reason not to pull down these cute little panties and punish your bare bottom," he clarified. "But I am not always right. What is it gonna be, Lois?"
Lois very much wanted to disappear, or fade from existence. Instead she was stuck on Superman's lap, faced with two choices. She could buck up and accept what she deserved with dignity, or she could beg him to go easy on her. Neither option was appealing, but she only had enough strength to ask for one of them.
"Please don't spank my bare bottom even though I deserve it!" she mewled pitifully. "I swear I will be a good girl if you will only spank me with my panties on."
Lois couldn't believe she'd reached a point in her life where she was openly campaigning to be spanked in her fancy pink underwear. But here she was.
"I will grant your request," Superman allowed, then did exactly as she'd asked of him. His hand came down again and again and made her bottom burn with stinging heat. "But understand me now Lois. If you put a single toe out of line, I will consider that a signal that you don't really want to be a good girl for me, and you need your bottom bared and smacked. Does that sound fair?"
Lois did not think so. Not one little bit. And the smarting slaps scorching her barely covered buttocks were not doing anything to change her mind. But she recalled that backtalk and arguing were strictly forbidden, and now punishable by both soap and the removal of her bikini briefs. And besides that, she really did want to be his good girl. So she bit her tongue until something amenable could come to her mind.
"Yes Sir. Ouch! Ow! Ohh! It's perfectly fair," she acquiesced with a tone honeyed by desperation.
With all conditions and parameters set, Lois was subjected to a sound thrashing. She tried very hard to stay still as Superman reddened her pert cheeks and even the tops of her thighs, but could not always manage. She squirmed and bucked and cried out, not bothering to pretend he wasn’t making her miserable. But that did not deter him - indeed, he seemed determined to make her flail and fuss and burst into tears. And when she thought she might give into the urge to do so, he asked a pointed question.
"Why are you getting spanked, Lois Lane?"
She sniffled and buried her face in the palms of her hands. Oh, she knew damn well, but she did not want to admit it.
"Because you gave me explicit instructions to not put myself in danger on purpose, and I disobeyed you," she confessed, utterly heartbroken by her failure to comply with his wishes.
"And what does that make you, young lady?" he inquired, giving her bottom an encouraging pat.
"Foolish and reckless," she admitted woefully. "And horribly, terribly naughty."
"That's correct," Superman agreed, and teed off on her bottom with proper wallops once more. "How do you think it makes me feel when you do dangerous stunts like this?"
"Angry!" Lois crooned. "And upset, and... and worried. Scared that something will happen to me before you can save me."
"Uh huh. That's exactly how I feel. Because I care about you, Lois Lane," he reminded her tenderly. "I am very fond of you, and I would be devastated if I lost you. You're a good person, and you inspire me to be better."
"I inspire you?" she blurted out, clearly dubious. "But you're Superman! You're the shining example of goodness we're all trying to live up to! Including me."
"Yes, Miss Lane. You inspire me with your compassion, and your honesty. You are smart and brave and forthright and incredibly strong," he praised relentlessly as he slapped her bottom with equal fervor. "And you are fundamentally good. Well, when you aren’t being terribly, horribly naughty, that is."
The contrast between his sincere compliments and his admonishing spanks were too much for Lois to take. She started to weep, shedding a flood of tears that soaked her bed in moments.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to disobey you, I just wasn't thinking!" She felt absolutely contrite, and longed to be absolved of her misdeeds. "I'm really so incredibly sorry. I won't do it again, I won't!"
As Lois apologized, she found a strange form of peace in the proceedings. Superman's discipline felt as natural to her as the warmth of the sun or the chill of her tears. The ache in her muscles felt like a heavy blanket, keeping her safe and secure. And deep down in her soul, she knew she didn't want him to stop.
"Su-Superman?" she hiccupped, barely louder than a field mouse but coming in perfectly clear to him.
"Yes, Lois?"
"I'll take that bare bottom spanking now," she muttered, shocked that she'd managed to get it out. "It's what I deserve."
"Good girl, Lois. You are so brave," he commended as he freed her from the garment. Now there was nothing between their skin as he resumed his percussive bombardment. "Just go ahead and cry now. You're almost done."
As Lois finally received what she so richly deserved, she was positive of one thing. She was a sorry little girl getting her naughty bottom spanked by Superman, and that was not really so bad. Surrendering herself to his will and receiving his loving discipline, and then his real forgiveness, satisfied needs she didn’t even know she had. And when he finally deemed her sufficiently punished, he stopped spanking and pulled her into a warm, all encompassing hug. Lois sobbed on his shoulder for what felt like ages, though in truth it was only a few minutes.
"There, there," Superman started. "Are you going to be alright?"
"My poor bottom might not be," she winced, reaching up to wipe her tears. "But I will be good. In every sense of the word."
Superman pulled her away from the hug, just enough so their eyes could meet.
"That's right. You're my good girl, Lois," he applauded. "And good girls can keep a secret, right?"
In spite of her misery, Lois giggled. As awful as it was to hear him call her spoiled and naughty, it was utter bliss to hear him call her his good girl. "Oh yes. I can keep a secret."
"I really am Clark Kent," he admitted shyly. "I figure by this point I owe you that much."
Whatever bizarre wonderland the ordeal had sent Lois to quickly lost its grip on her when she heard this. She was no longer so enchanted by the romance of being Superman's good girl. With the spell broken, she folded her arms and prepared to give Clark Kent a piece of her mind.
"I knew it!" she hissed. "You lying, sneaky little..."
"Lois," Clark warned.
"Oh stick it up your John Deere, Smallville!" she pressed on belligerently. "You've got some gall lying to my face like that. Maybe I ought to be spanking you!"
"Lois..." Clark interjected again, his tone full of caution.
"Don't 'Lois' me, you rotten liar. I've earned my damn hissy fit over this!"
Clark narrowed his eyes. "What you've earned, Little Miss Lane, is a mouthful of soap."
"What? No, no, my punishment is over! That's not fair, that's not- oww!" her tirade was cut off with a sound smack.
"I never said to stop acting like a sweet and polite young lady," Clark countered. "Now go to your restroom and fetch me some soap."
Lois was not able to finagle her way out of this new penalty. In fact, she was so combative about it that Clark made her serve another corner sentence with the bar of soap in her mouth, and then followed up with an alarmingly efficient dose of smacking that set her bottom alight all over again.
Lois was cranky as she took her medicine. But by the time he was through, she was just as sorry as before her little tantrum. And she realized she could no longer be angry with Clark over the secret identity. Now it was their secret, and it meant that they could take their relationship more seriously in the future.
Clark spanked her until her attitude was completely adjusted. And while Lois would not tell him yet, she was already scheming more mischief. She was going to keep this dress as a souvenir of this adventure, and wear it whenever she longed for one of his warm, effective, and astonishingly satisfying spankings.