The Power Split (Supes story)

The Power Split

Written by SteeleBlazer

I’m Superman, the world’s greatest superhero—and the strongest, and of course most super man in the entire world. If that all sounds boastful to you, it’s not, because it’s all true… Besides, I spend my days as my alter ego, the mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent, working at the Daily Planet newspaper.

Alongside me is Lois Lane, and she has always helped champion me as Superman and my fight for truth, justice, and the American way… even if she winds up being kidnapped, or captured, and tied up and held captive, and ends up being a damsel in distress more often than not.

While she might not have my powers, she certainly has spunk—and I have to give it to her, she sure is brave. Just as she sure does have a knack for not just getting in trouble—but for getting kidnapped.

Lucky for her, as Superman, I’m always there to save the day and rescue her. It’s just what I do, and I not only love Lois—I really do love rescuing her.

And I think Lois loves it too!

You know… for years I knew Lois wanted to marry me. She always had a super crush on me and my powers. She was so in love with them and me, but then again who wouldn’t be, I am after all Superman.  And of all the people in the world who could ever wear me down—who could ever defeat me—it wasn’t Lex Luthor, it wasn’t some super huge and super powerful super villain… it was her… Lois Lane.

For years we played the cat-and-mouse game of her trying to figure out my secret identity, never realizing that I was working alongside her the whole time as my mild-mannered alter ego—Clark Kent. And boy, did she love belittling and teasing me as Clark Kent, never realizing that we were one and the same.

I also fought for truth and justice as a reporter… and you know what they say: the pen is mightier than the sword—and I had a very mighty pen indeed. But still, all that paled before my might as the Man of Steel.

Lois’s pen was just as mighty, if not mightier—and as I said before, she has spunk, grit, and determination unlike any other woman I’ve ever known. Time after time, she proved herself to me, even if she still proved to be just as prone to being captured, kidnapped, and in need of rescue as ever.

Which suited me just fine—almost as fine as how my skin-tight superhero outfit suited me—because I really loved rescuing Lois.

It was the way I felt her tiny, frail, feminine figure cling to mine. I could feel her elevated heartbeat pounding like a big bass drum, and it wasn’t just in fear—because I could also smell her arousal when I took her in my steely arms. And let’s just say… her excitement really took flight when we’d fly together, and I’d hold her tightly but softly in my powerful arms.

I’ve lifted entire buildings and actual, literal mountains, yet nothing made me feel more super than holding Lois in my arms. And rescue after rescue, something strange started to happen. I not only loved rescuing her—I found myself falling in love with Lois herself.

She was just so indomitable. She just never quit. Never quit trying to find out my secret identity, never stopped trying to win my affection, and never stopped getting in trouble and needing rescuing.

And while I might be a Superman, I’m also a man—and a man only has so much strength and resistance to women and falling in love.

And try as I might, it would appear Lois Lane had an effect on me stronger than Kryptonite.

She wore me down. She outlasted me. She brought me to my knees… only, I wasn’t the one who proposed… and I agreed to marry her. Just like I agreed—when she told me marriage was 50/50—that that meant shared responsibilities, and shared superpowers… and of course, well, that meant sharing my powers 50/50 too.

And I was just as surprised to hear that proposal from Lois as I was when I heard her marriage proposal—which again, I can’t believe I said yes to!

And just like that we married…

And just like that I still can’t believe I said yes to that power split.

Just like I really can’t believe I already had a device in my super-science Kryptonian lab that could do such a thing.

And as a show of faith, I let Lois man the controls. After all, what does a superman like me need to be afraid of? Even at half the man, I’d be more than man enough to still be the all-powerful Superman to Lois, but also strong and steely enough to be the Man of Steel.

Only… turns out, with superpowers and as a super woman, Lois is way more woman than I’d ever imagined she could be.

To this day, I don’t know what I was thinking when I let her run the machine. I don’t just now consider that a mistake—I consider it a super-mistake on my part. And I won’t lie: that’s how I view this whole affair with Lois. Well, marriage to Lois—as one great big super-mistake on my part.

But I’m getting ahead of myself…

Let’s back up to right after the power transfer.

Because, you see, after the transfer… well, I always got this nagging feeling she took a little more than 50/50.

Why? Because…

Her superhero suit—which used to be my superhero suit, since we’re sharing them 50/50—seemed to fit her tighter. And her muscles just seemed a little bigger than mine…

Just a little, but even a little can be a lot. Especially when it’s your wife—your former damsel in distress, the one you’ve rescued more times than you can remember—who now has a lot bigger muscles than you.

And you wish you could remember what it felt like being stronger and more super than her.

Or when was the last time she looked at you—or rather, looked at me—like she used to.

I know things changed between us.

I know I should’ve handled this whole situation better than just accusing her and always nagging and whining that she took more than her fair share of my powers—especially since she proved on more than one occasion that she was doing more than her fair share of the crime fighting.

She was doing the lion’s share—or rather, the lioness’s share—of it all.

But I just couldn’t handle that she was simply more super than me.

And so I guess I changed.

But… she did too.

She didn’t just become more super and more powerful than me—

She became smug.

She no longer looked at me the same way.

She no longer had that look of love and awe on her face.

She looked at me with—well, I don’t know what—but it was as belittling a gaze as any I’ve ever felt.

And that’s how I felt next to her. Belittled.

And if I thought she loved to tease and belittle me before as my alter ego Clark Kent, well that all paled compared to how now Lois, as a superwoman, belittled me as Superman…

See, I always played up the bumblings and stumblings of Clark Kent as a joke.

A performance.

A mask to disguise me, so no one could ever know I was the all-powerful and mighty Superman. And I always laughed at how inept Clark could be, never realizing I could ever feel the same way as Superman.

And don’t think for a single second that I didn’t take my marriage vows seriously—only I didn’t realize that those same vows would end up turning me, Superman, into the punchline.

But that’s just how it turned out.

Right from the start.

Something that started that very wedding night, when she just wanted to test out her powers and strength, and challenged me to an arm-wrestling match. Something I thought would be no real challenge for me—only it turned out I was no real challenge for Lois, as she wound up beating me so easily…

And that’s when I jokingly asked her, “Are you sure you only took fifty percent of my powers?”

And she just looked at me—like I was the joke—and flexed, and smirked, and told me not to be jealous.

And then she said to me, “Jealousy doesn’t suit a superman.”

That’s when she decided she needed to suit up.

And in a blur, she streaked past me—brushing my shoulder ever so slightly—but just enough to send me spinning like a top, round and round…

And when I finally stopped spinning, and my vision likewise did so, I saw her standing there—for the first time—wearing my super-suit.

And despite being tight in all the right places on her, it still seemed so wrong—because it was tight in areas it never should’ve been tight on a woman.

If you don’t know what I mean, I mean that she didn’t just have muscles, but great big muscles. She had arms that were thick, brawny, bulging with muscle… and her legs were even worse… and by that I mean even bigger—even more muscular—as her thighs were like tree trunks, each steely sinew sculpted and chiseled, visible beneath the straining fabric.

My super-suit wasn’t just tight on her—it was tighter on her musclebound girly physique than it ever had been on my supposedly superhuman Superman frame.

Next to her, I looked like a mere mortal.

A regular human.

Only I’m not human—I’m Kryptonian!

She’s the human. The woman.

Only…

There isn’t anything “mere” about her.

Not when it comes to those mighty female muscles of hers.

And if you think this is all a bit of a stretch—it gets worse.

Because when she flexed those arms of hers, the sleeves stretched to their limit…

They couldn’t take anymore… and split!

Her biceps burst free—tearing through the sleeves, which were made from a nigh-indestructible fabric. And yet—she was so brimming with power, the sleeves tore like tissue.

And seeing that, it tore me too.

Tore my ego to shreds, just like those sleeves.

Yes—it was a humbling and emasculating sight. Seeing Lois Lane—now my superpowered, super musclebound wife. But it was also… the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. She was more woman than she ever was before. And those muscles of hers, they looked good on her.

Almost as if they were meant for her.

Which is absurd.

Because those are my powers she had.

Only, of course…

Even I, as Superman, never had muscles like hers.

And while she was flexing and pumping up her muscles, and they were swelling larger and larger, making her super suit tighter in all the right and wrong places—except for the arms, which were shredded—I was doing a type of flexing and swelling of my own, as my own super suit got tighter and tighter… at least in the trunks.

And I tried not to focus on her muscles being bigger than mine, because at that moment, at that time, I’d never ever had a bigger or harder erection. And seeing as this was our wedding night, and seeing she—in her rather unusual way—already began undressing, and when she flexed her quads, those titanic thighs of hers flexed with thunderous might, splitting right through the tight and strained fabric of my—or rather her—super suit… as she owned it now, just like she owned that body of hers, and those muscles, and those powers…

It was more than a little scary seeing her flex like that, but again, there was more to it than that—as belittling and emasculating as it was, I couldn’t help but be aroused, and in a way I never felt like a bigger man. Sure, I was scared—but then again, I was scared stiff…

And so I thought why not continue to undress, as I felt like it was time to consummate our marriage and for me to show Lois how much of a Superman I still was…

So I walked up to her, and I was about to finish what she started and rip her fully out of her super suit, but she had other ideas… I kissed her—a good, strong, romantic, passionate kiss—a kiss like she’d never had in her entire life, and then she kissed me, and whoa boy…

Let’s just say: GREAT SCOTT!

She kissed me like I’d never been kissed before in my entire life—it was so passionate and powerful it left me breathless, as she didn’t just suck on my tongue, but sucked the air from my lungs… And then what she did next really tears it…

She tore off my super suit—she just grabbed me by the collar, which I guess was good, as I’ve never felt hotter under the collar than that moment—and she just, with one simple tear, stripped me of my super suit, gave me another superpowered, lust-filled kiss that left me swooning, and threw me—right through the lab’s wall and onto our matrimonial bed…

And I won’t kiss and tell, but I will say she proceeded to have her way with me… And never in my life had I ever been so manhandled… And not just because this was different—this was sexual—but that night of lovemaking left me more battered and bruised than any supervillain encounter in my life.

And the humiliation of that night didn’t just leave my body black and blue and bruised—but my ego too. And it really, really cratered that night, much like the crater that Lois made with her thrusts and her steely hips as she crushed me and that bed to bits.

You could say she rocked my world—but the truth is, she actually rocked the entire world, as the seismic shockwaves of our passion were felt worldwide. And that would just be the harbinger of all the shocking changes that were to come...

Because, when I woke up that morning, I was still in for more earthshaking revelations…

And I don’t just mean figuratively, because when I woke up in the crater—I would have thought I already hit rock bottom, having been grinded and pounded into it—but then I felt the ground shake...

And I, in turn—did the same—because that wasn’t an earthquake shaking my Fortress of Solitude, or even my mental solitude, but it was Lois Lane working out in my super gym.

And she was actually lifting my weights.

First, my powers…

Then, my super suit…

And now she was lifting my weights… Actually lifting them!

No other man in the entire world is strong enough to lift those weights—and there she was, lifting them. What’s more, she was lifting even the biggest of my weights. One so big I could barely lift it… and even then, only with both of my arms… and even then, only once.

And here she was, lifting that weight… for reps… with just one arm!

And what’s worse—making it look easy!

I couldn’t believe it.

In so, so many different ways, I couldn’t believe it.

Yes, she was stronger than me—but did she really have to work out? Did she really have to rub it in?

But also—I couldn’t believe why she would be working out.

We’re superpowered. We don’t need to work out!

I’ve never worked out a single day in my life—not really.

The only time I ever lifted in my super gym was to demonstrate. To show off my strength.

I especially loved showing off to Lois…

And I’d always save lifting the biggest barbell I had for last—the one she was lifting now with just one of her arms. I just loved how she’d look at me when I lifted that bus-sized barbell. And I loved how, after my lift, she would fawn over and feel all my muscles.

Of course, I loved letting the weight drop to the ground.

Sure, I could set it down lightly—but I loved dropping it.

I loved feeling the ground quake, and I know it made Lois tremble. Physically, of course—but not just from the shaking of the floor… but from the shaking of pleasure that rippled through her entire body.

It really turned her on seeing me lift those super weights of mine…

And I guess they were hers now, as she was holding that same barbell.

And when she noticed me watching her, she gave her free arm a big, bulging flex—and dropped that big, bulky, bus-sized barbell.

And now, it was my turn to swoon and fawn and fall over Lois, as I stumbled from the shockwave mini-earthquake the dropped barbell caused—and fell right into her big, brawny, bulging arms.

She couldn’t help but flex—and gush on and on, incessantly, about just how super she felt—and how she loved being strong…

But she especially loved being stronger than me.

How do you like that?

Let me tell you, I didn’t like that!

There she was… with my superpowers, wearing one of my super suits—this one with the arms and legs removed neatly, more like a leotard with a red cape affixed—lifting my super weights, and flexing, and grinning, and bragging how she’s stronger than me.

The mighty Superman.

It was enough to drive me crazy—just like I was crazy about her muscles.

And I couldn’t help but touch them… and kiss them…

Don’t get me wrong—I was still mad at her.

Mad that she not only had bigger muscles than mine, but stronger.

I hated being weaker than her.

Just as I hated those muscles of hers—but I also hated that I loved them.

Just as I hate to say it—I knew she was truly stronger than me.

You see, with all her boasting and flexing, I couldn’t help but make a boast of my own—and do a little bit of flexing myself…

Sadly, a very little bit of flexing.

Because next to Lois’s big, boulderous biceps, my muscles looked—well—little!

I said to her that I could lift that barbell too.

And I proved it to her.

That’s right—I lifted it.

Even after that 50/50 power split with Lois.

I mean, if Lois could lift this weight, then so could I—despite being fifty percent of my former self… Or less, I thought, as I looked at Lois and her great big muscles… Way, way, way less.

Because she had to have taken more than 50%. She just had to!

Just like I just had to lift that barbell.

Especially in front of Lois.

And again—guess what?

I lifted it.

I lifted it… With both of my arms… But not like how I used to.

I had to dig deep. And with superhuman effort, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

But I did it.

I did it because I wanted to impress Lois.

And so I pressed that big, bulky, bus-sized barbell twice over my head.

I figured Lois would be impressed.

But I figured wrong.

Because she just reached out… And grabbed the barbell with one hand—and pressed me instead!

Lifting me over and over and over again—easily—thanks to her hypertrophic, musclebound figure.

And she really did lift me—over and over again.

I lost count after 100 reps.

She sure was a show-off.

And I just hated her for that.

Almost as much as I hated that she kept working out in my super gym.

We’re superpowered.

We’re super-strong.

We’re superheroes.

We don’t need to work out.

And I told her as much.

But she’d just smile and say, “I just love feeling strong. Isn’t it such a great feeling?”

And it is…

But sadly, next to Lois, I no longer felt strong.

I no longer felt super.

And I swear—she didn’t just love showing off.

She loved showing me up.

And I swear she was always trying to show me up…

Always picking and punching and destroying the bigger asteroids when they were on collision courses with Earth.

Always lifting the falling building or bridge herself—and forcing me to help evacuate while she did the heavy lifting.

But I didn’t take that lying down—or I guess, there would be times when I was lying down—such as during a bench press, as I took up weightlifting. I told Lois it was stupid to waste our time working out, but she wouldn’t listen.

It turns out I was right… but only half right—as nothing I ever did seemed to make me any stronger or bigger or more muscular. Lois, on the other hand—well, she could lift with just one hand more than I could with my entire body. But as it turns out, while working out just didn’t work out on me, it sure worked out for Lois—and all those workouts of hers made her even bigger and stronger.

It was just impossible.

Not just her being stronger than me—but then becoming even bigger and stronger still. And the bigger she got, the bigger her ego would grow as well—or maybe that’s just how it felt whenever I would see the newspapers and magazine covers, or the news, showing off those huge muscles of hers.

By then, it wasn’t so much huge as humongous.

Just like that humongous smile of hers, when I told her to ease up on all the flexing—she told me she couldn’t help it, that her muscles were just so big, they practically flexed themselves. And she’d just giggle as she’d flex and make her muscles ripple.

I told her I was tired of her strong-arming and flexing, pushing me out of the way, and hogging the spotlight—that I was feeling more like a sidekick and not an equal, and that I was growing tired of being in her shadow. Because the more and more she lifted, the bigger and bigger she grew… and the shadow she cast grew bigger and bigger as well.

This was a partnership—with everything split, especially my powers—evenly at a 50/50 split!

But even if we shared the spotlight 50/50… she still cast the bigger shadow.

Yet looking at her, it sure didn’t seem like a 50/50 split—not with the spotlight… and certainly not with my powers.

And the thought of me becoming a sidekick was enough to make my sanity split at the seams.

But I had to keep my composure.

Especially when the reporters and photographers were nearby.

I always had to be on the lookout for them while out patrolling with Lois—but not Lois. She had a superpower for knowing when she was being recorded. Never an unflattering angle—something I thought was never an issue for me… but has been happening more and more lately.

She always looked not just bigger and stronger than me… but bigger than life itself—which is how I always used to look—until… well… until her and her muscles made me look not just average, but plain. And not just plain, but—to put it plain and simply—small.

And there was no playing coy about how super-strong and super-muscular she was.

Just as there was no missing that coy smile of hers and how she was always nonchalantly flexing and showing off in our group pictures—showing the world how much bigger and stronger she is than Superman.

 If there’s a camera flashing, then she’s flexing and posing for it. And there is nothing I hate more than having her bulging muscles make her look bigger—and subsequently make me look smaller—on the front pages of newspapers across the world. She’s so smug about her superior muscles and superior super-strength. She just never stops showing off. Never stops flexing. It’s not fair—she gets to boast and showboat all the time just because her chest and shoulders are bigger than an actual boat!

And it was for her solo pictures that she saved her biggest flexes. And it seemed she was only too happy to strong arm out of the way, even of only in the figurative sense, even though she could easily do so in the physical too, and pose all by herself…  She might as well taken all the credit… and glory—as she flexed those gloriously engorged muscles of hers.

I feel like she pushed me straight out of the headlines, worse is when we split the headlines. Because after our power split, the headlines read Superwoman and her sidekick … Sometimes they’ll mention me as Superman, but even who do it’s very emasculating and makes me feel like half the man I was… And I guess in a way that’s exactly how I was feeling. Only I was feeling even less than that, and I couldn’t help but still wonder why.

Could it be that she really took more than 50% of my superpowers?

Could she have taken more than we decreed in our holy matrimony? Holey moley, I can’t help but believe it.

I mean, you’d all find it hard to believe that any woman could be stronger than a man… let alone a superman!

We all know women are just weaker than men.

And even a superwoman should always be weaker than a superman—let alone thee Superman!

That’s just how it is… or how it should be.

But as it turns out, that’s not how it is…

As it so happened to actually have turned out—after sharing my powers with her, at an even 50/50 split—Lois Lane had somehow, in some way, as impossible as it sounds… become more super than me.

I’m Superman. But Lois, with her superpowers—which actually are mine—now she’s taller than me… and stronger…

And even has bigger muscles than me.

I’m Superman—how is this even possible that a woman can be stronger and more super than me…

It was enough to drive me mad.

And so one day I was just so mad, I just couldn’t leave it well enough be.

And so I confronted her… OR as she said I accused her.

And I behaved in a way that felt split from my personality—or was it spitting, because I was so spitting mad.

So I told her to admit it.

Just as I hate to admit it… but my decision to marry Lois—and to marry or, more accurately, split my powers with her—is my biggest regret.

And it’s not just because her muscles are so much bigger than mine!

No, I admit that while I knew with marriage there came sacrifice, and shared responsibilities, and in our case, shared powers—I always thought I’d still be the man of the house. That I’d always be Superman… especially in Lois’s eyes.

But I can’t even split or go 50/50 on either of those odds anymore. Not since the power split.

I admit it.

I hated that Lois had bigger, stronger muscles than me.

So, again, I asked her—no, I demanded—that she admit it.

Admit that she took more of my superpowers!

And while in the past she’d always laugh it off, this time it wasn’t funny.

Not to me—not when her muscles were bigger… and, regretfully, as I’ve said before over and over again, it turns out… stronger.

I just hate that she is stronger than me, and I know I’ve said that over and over again. I’ll say it again. And again. I hate that she is stronger than me.

Apparently, she hated it whenever I said that. Hated it whenever I accused her—over and over again—of taking more than 50% of my powers. Well, I guess I said it once too often.

She’d heard it one time too many, and enough was enough.

Because when I said it that last time, she got mad. Can you believe that? She takes more of my powers and only now—now—she gets fed up?

She yelled at me. Told me she only took 50% of my powers.

And you know what?

She was awfully convincing.

So I’m not going to tell you the awful things she said. About me being weaker. About me not even being enough of a Superman for her.

And that wasn’t all she convinced me of—she also convinced me to a winner-take-all arm wrestling match for our superpowers.

With all of our superpowers on the line.

And the thing is… now she’s thinking about the big D.

And no, I don’t mean divorce—I mean drained.

As in, draining me of everything I’ve got. My strength. My powers. My muscles.

So maybe she is thinking of divorce… as in divorcing me from my powers!

And now, since that 50/50 power split, I’m looking at not just one but two big splits—both the love of my life, and the superpowers I’ve had all my life—going away.

I guess I should’ve been more mild-mannered with my accusations about Lois taking more than her fair share of my powers…

Because it really looks like I pushed too far, said too much—and now there’s no alternative.

I’ll be spending the rest of my days not as Superman, but as my alter ego: the mild-mannered Clark Kent.

A mere mortal…

While there isn’t anything mere about Lois anymore.

Just as there isn’t any mercy with her—because soon she’ll have taken everything from me.

Not just half of my powers, but now all of them.

My super suits—practically the shirt off my back.

And my home. The Fortress of Solitude.

And I don’t know why I agreed.

All I can say is… I wasn’t thinking.

Because I don’t think—I know—Lois isn’t just stronger than she looks.

By Krypton, I know she’s stronger than me. And she’s even stronger now than she was when we first split the powers.

I can’t believe Lois and I might split… just as I can’t believe I actually split my superpowers with her, fifty-fifty.

And something tells me… I won’t be holding on to those powers much longer.

Just like I won’t be Superman anymore.

Only—I guess I’m the one telling you that.

Only—I hate to tell you, her muscles have kind of grown on me…

Like everything else she’s taken… they, like my super suits, suit her better than they ever did me.