Supes blown away (short story)

Blown Away

Written by SteeleBlazer

Superman expected a puff piece.

Just a breezy little feature for The Daily Planet—the kind of story and interview that Lois, despite her reputation as a hard-hitting news reporter, always wrote for him. You could say she handled him with soft kiddie gloves—never challenging his boasts, letting him bloviate about truth, justice, and ramble through all his favorite cornball catchphrases. A real windbag, and she let him be.

Only... little did he know, Lois had a big surprise for him. And this puff interview? It would be less puff piece, more maelstrom—leaving his ego in pieces, blown away, by what was supposed to be a breezy little interview…

He stepped through the door of her office with his chest out, cape still catching the breeze from his super strut. But the moment he saw her—really saw her—he stalled. His cape went limp, and his eyes went wide, and his shoulders and chest drooped along with his spit curl, which sagged and went a little limp.

This wasn’t what he was expecting. Lois somehow, in some way, she had transformed into a burly, brawny, beefcake bodybuilder, and he knew he’d have his hands full—if she was still the busybody she was, just now with a bodybuilder physique that not only rivaled his own super physique but dwarfed his.

Her white blouse strained at every stitch, seams screaming, buttons clinging for dear life over pectorals that didn’t just look powerful, but pumped—and pretty—as they framed her beautiful bosom perfectly in an intoxicating mixture of femininity and muscularity. Her black mini skirt looked even smaller and shorter than usual, and for a change he didn’t need his super vision to peek at her pink panties, because he could see them peeking out at the bottom of the mini skirt. And while her skirt was mini—there was nothing mini about those leg muscles of hers—her quads not only stretched the seams of the skirt, but also disbelief, as he’d never seen such a pair of legs that were so muscular and yet wholly feminine. All her muscular curves just made her more of a woman. And her shoulders—broad, rounded, capped with raw power—wider than his.

She wasn’t just more of a woman…

It appeared she was more muscular than a Superman!

While his cape fluttered, and his strut faltered—his confidence... didn’t.

He was the Man of Steel, and while Lois had big, bulging, hardbody muscles, the hard truth was… she’d always be weaker than him. He wasn’t just a superman—he was Superman. And Lois was just a woman. A very muscular woman, sure.

But still… human.

And still… just a woman.

And—at the risk of spoilers—Superman was about to learn, the hard way, that his bigoted, blowhard beliefs weren’t just about to be challenged… but blown away by Lois and her Mighty Female Muscles.

Then she stood, extended her hand while standing in front of her desk, and greeted the Man of Steel with friendly words and a polite handshake.

“Superman, it’s always great to see you. You’re looking as strong and super as ever.”

He reached out—polite. Heroic. Bulletproof. Invulnerable.

And then… that polite little handshake of Lois’s turned out to be more powerful than he thought—more powerful than he could have ever imagined—as her hand clamped down onto his.

And didn’t let go.

He felt the pressure first—firm. Then fierce. Then freakish.

He didn’t want to groan.

But he did.

Just like he didn’t want to keep shaking Lois’s hand, so he tried to pull away…

Only he couldn’t pull it free.

So he tried again.

Still, he couldn’t pull free from Lois—and her surprisingly strong, undeniably powerful grip.

“Something the matter?” Lois smiled, like the cat that caught the canary—only she caught Superman instead, in her vice-like grip.

“No, no,” Superman said, shifting in his boots. “Just... surprised.”

She sweetly said, “By what?” and smiled just as sweetly—while squeezing his hand anything but sweetly, but painfully, the most pain since... well, since he could remember. And as an invulnerable Superman, that was an awfully long time.

He again shifted more in his boots, and said, “It’s just that... you’re so big.”

Lois’s smile beamed, as her forearms bulged and her hand squeezed tighter—which made Superman’s voice grow higher as he squeaked out, “...and muscular.”

“Just big or muscular? I thought you might have said how strong I am,” she said, while squeezing and really laying down the emphasis—and the pain—in her grip when she said strong.

Superman couldn’t help but grunt his own little exclamation at her strength.

“S-Strong,” he squeaked, “you’re strong for a—”

Crunch—and Lois interrupted him, not just with her crushing squeeze.

“For a?”

“G-g—GIRL!” Superman almost shrieked as she gave him another bone-grinding squeeze.

“Oh, come on. We both know I’m more than just strong for a girl,” she cooed, looking him right in the eyes—eyes which he could feel starting to water. And no sooner had he nodded his approval, she asked, “Isn’t that right?”

But by the power and strength she squeezed his hand with, it was almost as if she already knew the answer.

“Yes, you’re much stronger than any girl,” Superman said, biting his lip—both because of the pain, and something else he just didn’t want to admit—Lois’s strength, and just how strong she was.

“It’s quite impressive,” Superman said, giving her hand a squeeze that could crumple granite, trying to impress upon her who he was—and to impress her with his strength. But he still didn’t quite get a hold of this strange situation, nor could he get a hold of Lois’s dainty but devastating grip.

Painful as it was to admit—but there was no denying it—Lois was strong.

And it was, in fact, getting harder and harder to hide his discomfort... the harder and harder Lois squeezed his hand.

Something Superman hoped Lois wouldn’t notice.

But, by that look in her eyes, Superman knew little escaped Lois’s notice—just like right now, try as he could, he still couldn’t escape her grasp. And Lois looked at him and asked him a question, “What’s wrong, Superman…”

He knew there was no escaping this question, so he locked his knees and jaw and answered Lois as stoically as possible.

“N-nothing…” is what he should say.

Not quite as convinced as he would have liked, and Lois wasn’t fully convinced either as she looked at him closer—and looked at their hands, which you didn’t need super vision like his to notice were a bit discolored, and a bit squished beneath Lois’s dainty but dangerous grip.

He put on a brave face, but it was a face masked in pain, and again Superman hoped that his discomfort would escape Lois’s notice—unlike his hand.

Lois just giggled as she looked at him so serenely and sweetly.

“You’re Superman. Don’t tell me I’m hurting you.”

“Of course not,” Superman had to say between his grinding teeth, as Lois just kept on smiling sweetly, and squeezing, and grinding on Superman’s hand—

Crunch!

“If you say so,” she again teased, as she squeezed his hand.

He was the Man of Steel—but when he tried to return her squeeze, his hand felt more like tinfoil than steel. Of course, he had to be careful. If he squeezed too hard, he could break Lois’s hand.

Or so he thought.

But he also couldn’t help but think… if she wasn’t careful, she might just do the same to him.

“So enough with the pleasantries, let’s get on with the interview, shall we?” she said, looking at him.

He nodded—and he at least agreed with ending the handshake.

As for the pleasantries, he didn’t find them very pleasant and would be more than happy with them being over.

With one final, crushing squeeze—followed by a sharp crack that made something in his knuckles pop—Lois finally released his hand.

Like his hand, his expression cracked. And while he was relieved to finally have his hand free, it was still hurting. He tried not to show his discomfort, but he couldn’t help rubbing his hand, and he just hoped Lois wouldn’t notice. But he knew—by her smile—she had. And he also knew she had something else up her sleeve.

“So Lois, what’s this big news you have for me?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as he hoped to move along the interview.

“Oh, I thought you’d already have guessed my big news,” she said. “But here—let me show you the big news. Let me give you an up-front exclusive.”

She took a step back and gave him a smirk. Then she flexed.

RIIIP!

Both sleeves tore open at once, as not just Lois’s biceps swelled and expanded, but her whole body seemed to flex along with her biceps. The seams of her shirt gave up in surrender as her biceps exploded outward, swelling bigger and harder—tearing not just in the center of her beefy biceps, but down the full length of her arms, splitting along the shoulders and upper arms, and ripping wide to reveal the tight, taut muscular flesh underneath. Threads snapped, buttons popped, and her blouse tore open, revealing a lacy bra that was struggling to contain the brawny, bulging bosom—and the hunky, hefty muscular pectorals that framed them.

And her biceps—they weren’t just big, they were thick, round, and ridiculously overdeveloped. Bigger than softballs. Bigger than cannonballs. Bigger than his.

With another big flex, her bicep peaks rose up to their pinnacle peak of feminine power—and Superman’s jaw hit the floor.

And that’s when Lois, with perfect posture and a playful strut, walked up to him—her muscles rippling, her brawny bosom undulating, and her thighs shaking with each step, hinting at the rumble and thunder each thigh possessed. Her veins pulsed and throbbed powerfully.

She gently pressed one finger under his chin... and pushed his mouth closed.

She kept right on pushing, and not even the weight of Superman and the gravitational force of the Earth stopped her.

Her finger kept rising. And as it did—so did he.

She lifted him off the ground. With only one finger. One polished nail and a single casual motion.

“The big news isn’t that I just got big muscles,” Lois said with a smirk. “The big news is I’m even stronger than I look.”

She pulled back her finger.

Superman fell. His boots hit the floor harder than they should have, and he wobbled, trying to stand straight again.

He must admit—he wasn’t just off balance. He was on shaky ground.

As sure as he was Superman—and sure as he was the strongest man in the world—he didn’t know just how strong Lois was.

But he was certain it was well beyond human limits.

Just as he was certain it was nowhere near as strong as him.

While she had a grip—a heck of a strong grip—he knew he was Superman, and she was just a woman. With big muscles, sure, but still not really that much of a big deal.

Besides, he also knew, deep down, he was just going easy on her.

To believe otherwise... would mean losing his grip on reality.

And besides, even if he was still absentmindedly rubbing his hand, Lois’s grip wasn’t that painful. Or that strong.

“But I’ve got even bigger news,” Lois said, as she needled him in the side with her elbow. “I don’t just have bigger muscles than you, Superman... I’m also stronger than you.”

And Superman couldn’t help but gasp—not just from Lois’s declaration, but from that elbow of hers knocking the wind out of him.

Superman straightened up, adjusting his disheveled hair and crooked cape, squaring his posture. With all the incredulity and incredulousness he could muster, he sternly looked at Lois—who just stood there smirking and gave her eyebrows a playful shimmy and shake just for him, shrugging those swole, hunky shoulders up and down in perfect rhythm.

He cleared his throat—not to make a point, but to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack like one of his ribs might have.

“Shirley, you can’t be serious,” he said.

Lois just smiled. “Yes, I am. And my name—and byline—is Lois Lane,” she said, then playfully slapped him on the back to punctuate her punchline.

While he didn’t think her joke was that funny, it still nearly floored him, as he nearly buckled from the playful slap.

Superman, trying to hide both the sting of the slap and the ache in his hand, once again adjusted his hair, then his cape, and then tried to puff up his chest. But he couldn’t help but notice Lois doing the same—smiling at him as hers was so much wider than his. And when she caught his eyes going wide—just like her chest and shoulders—Lois gave him a wink and a smile and gave her pecs a shimmy and shake this time.

Popping them off. Making them dance. Up and down. Up and down. Out and in. Together and apart.

POP!

Went the topmost button of her blouse. It flew off like a bullet shot from a gun—and struck Superman right between the eyes.

“Ouch,” Superman said, wincing. Bullets tickled compared to that button.

“Oops,” Lois said.

That’s it, Superman thought to himself. Enough was enough. He was through playing her games. She had finally pushed him too far—and he just needed to know one thing.

“How the heck did you get so big and strong?” he asked.

Lois just looked at him and flashed a big, broad smile as she flexed her big, brawny arms and broad, powerful shoulders. Then she playfully leaned in, as if to tell him a secret, and whispered in his ear:

“I’m the reporter. I ask the questions,” she said. “You wouldn’t want me taking over your role as the world’s greatest and most super superhero, would you, Superman?”

Then she gave him a playful shove—pushing Superman even further.

Only this time... literally.

She pushed him a couple of feet backwards. And try as he might—and this was a man who had moved actual mountains—he found that next to Lois’s mighty female muscles...he couldn’t stand his ground.

“Surely, you can’t be serious about taking over my mantle,” Superman said. “I’m Superman! It'll take more than a little bit of muscle to muscle me out of the picture.”

“Oh, we both know there’s nothing little about my muscles,” Lois said, bringing her arm up in a flex right up close to Superman’s face. With another quick, hard squeeze, she popped that bicep of hers right into Superman’s jaw—smacking him across the face with it while reminding him:

“And my name’s not Shirley.”

That bicep smack of hers not only left Superman gobsmacked—it smacked the words and rebuttal right out of his mouth too.

“Wouldn’t you say I’ve had quite the transformation?” she said, flexing at him, pumping her arms in front of him.

Superman couldn’t help but wince at Lois’s flexes.

Which made Lois give him another sly wink and many, many more big, bulging flexes, smiling as she popped off her muscles one by one.

“Yes... you’ve had q-quite the transformation,” Superman agreed, rubbing his sore jaw.

“Super, actually,” Lois replied. “Yes, I’ve had quite the super transformation, wouldn’t you say?”

She punched him playfully again on the shoulder, to once again punctuate her remark.

He rubbed his shoulder again—but stopped when he realized she was watching him.

“Yes,” he admitted. “A most super transformation…”

He tried to square his shoulders and puff out his chest.

Only... Lois hit the same pose right along with him.

Smiling that broad smile as her even broader shoulders stretched with it.

Deflated, he asked, “So you’re not going to tell me?”

His shoulders slumped.

And his chest drooped—along with the ‘S’ symbol, which now seemed to frown across his chest.

With a grin, she told him, “No.” Because she already knew the answer, and she was only interested in one thing—and having said all of that, she playfully punched his shoulder.

And ouch—he had to bite his lip to stifle a squeal.

“W-what...” he squeaked. Then he cleared his throat. “...are you interested in, then?”

With that, Lois smiled and walked back to her desk and sat down across from him.

Her powerful calves flexed with every step, her heels clicking hard against the floor. The ground trembled with every confident stride, and—despite himself—Superman did too. He actually trembled.

The tension in the room grew as Lois settled in.

“I just have one question for this interview,” she said, placing her elbow on the desk.

“Which one of us is now more super?”

He tried to laugh.

She didn’t.

The table groaned and splintered beneath her elbow.

She wasn’t just serious.

She was seriously strong.

She raised an eyebrow, motioning for him to join her—wiggling her fingers. The densely corded muscles in her forearms rippled and twitched with every playful wave.

He looked over her body. And it wasn’t just the size of her muscles that impressed him—it was the density.

He gave her figure a full scan with his super vision, and it revealed more than just her birthday suit. He didn’t really need his super vision to see either her bra or underwear—both pink, of course—and the rest of her clothes, or what remained after her flexing display that didn’t just stretch her muscles to obscene proportions, but stretched, ripped, and tore her clothes to the point where they were teetering on the edge between decency and obscenity, as there was nothing modest about that musclebound physique of hers.

He was no prude, but there was no doubt—her muscles were obscene. Obscenely huge.

But there was even more to them than just that, because while scanning them, he realized her muscles were so dense... he couldn’t even see through them—and that made him doubt if even he, the mighty Superman, was stronger than her and those mighty female muscles of hers.

But that was only a little, tiny, lagging doubt…

Despite how big, brawny, beefy, and bulging Lois’s muscles were.

You could say he was dense or at least thick-headed, but that is what he believed, despite the fact that only a handful of substances in the universe were too dense for his super vision.

Still he knew she was strong, even he wasn’t dense and thick-headed enough not to admit that.

But he still wasn’t ready to admit she could be stronger than him.

So he decided it was time to prove to Lois—and to himself—just who was stronger.

With his typical swagger, he strutted over to Lois’s desk, sat down, and took her hand.

CRUNCH!

His hand went limp. Completely flaccid in her grip.

His chest and shoulders dipped. His hair—slick and damp with sweat—drooped even further.

Lois smiled sweetly.

“Ready?” she asked.

He shook his head while biting his lip. And it was a good thing he was biting it—because part of him wanted to tell her, rather impolitely, to hurry up.

Lois just took her sweet time.

Smiling sweetly, almost as if she were unaware of his discomfort—and muscular dominance—but by the way her smile grew with each and every not-so-subtle groan from Superman, she wasn’t quite as sweet as she let on. She sneakily played coy with each of those steely squeezes.

“You don’t look ready,” she said, in her sugary sweet voice—just dripping in sweetness, as Superman’s face was starting to drip with sweat.

“Well I am!” he blurted—half scream, half squeak.

Lois just giggled, and her muscular bosom and pecs rippled along with her thick neck muscles.

“Okay… here we go. One... two... three!”

He summoned all his strength—strength that had never once in his life failed to not just meet but conquer any and all challenges. But this wasn’t like any other challenge. He thought it would be easier.

He couldn’t believe it.

Lois’s hardbody muscles were proving even harder than he thought—or imagined—to budge.

And as her bicep proudly bulged and brimmed with unknown power, Superman realized Lois’s physique was more formidable than he’d like to admit. But he wasn’t quite ready to admit—yet—that she could actually be stronger than him.

That was a growing concern though.

The more he strained and struggled to move her arm, despite calling on more and more of his vast, superpowered, super strength... the more it felt like she might not be made of muscle, but Kryptonite.

No—worse.

She was made of impossibly dense, impossibly strong muscle.

And Superman couldn’t believe it.

No matter how densely built she was... she was strong.

Stronger than she looked.

Stronger than him, he feared.

By now he was giving it all he had, and sweat and desperation were pouring out of him in buckets.

He couldn’t budge her arm.

He tried.

He groaned.

He strained.

He raged!

His eyes bulged.

And Lois’s muscles bulged and swelled in kind.

But her arm didn’t move an inch.

Then she leaned in, lips pursed.

“It’s time for you to kiss goodbye to being the most super person in the room,” she purred, with a wink.

M’uh.

She blew him the kiss.

And then—

Whoosh!

He was blown away.

Literally.

The kiss knocked him back.

He flew across the room, slammed into the wall, and landed in a heap.

His cape wrapped over his face.

His pride lay crumpled beside him.

When he finally sat up, he looked back across the room.

Lois was still seated.

Arm resting casually on the desk.

Her biceps bulging in victory, and that hardbody of hers looking as easy and relaxed as ever.

And Superman, in contrast, had never tried harder—and yet Lois had easily beaten him.

Her strength had truly blown him away.

He rubbed his hand, still sore, still crushed… just like his ego.

Then rubbed the back of his head.

Then slowly…he realized that despite Lois blowing him clear across the room—she wasn’t a blowhard.

She truly was stronger than him.

And she blew away any such doubt.

This was supposed to be a puff piece—meant to puff up his ego, to bolster his social stature—but he never expected Lois Lane to blow him away. Blow his ego away. And no doubt, in the ensuing weeks, she'd blow away his standing as the most super superhero—not just in Metropolis, not just in the world—but anywhere.

Once again, Lois had surprised him, not just with that steely musclebound physique.

He looked at her, nodded once, and simply said, “You really blew me away.”

Lois just flexed and smiled sweetly.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I promise you, what happens next is really going to blow your mind.”

And Superman couldn’t help but gulp, as he wondered just what she had in min