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Supershe I By Cooper What's this?" Clark asked Lois, holding up a box wrapped in plain brown paper he'd found sitting on the table. "I don't know. I thought it was yours." Clark turned his back to Lois and quickly scanned the package with his x-ray vision. Nothing. It was clean. "Odd." "What is it?" Clark tore the brown paper from the box and held it up to show Lois: inside was a box holding a Barbie dressed in a Superman outfit. Lois took the box and examined the doll. "Someone's idea of a joke?" "So this isn't yours?" "I'm a little old to play with Barbie's." "Stay put. I want to do a quick fly around. Whoever put that here might still be around." Clark burst out the window in a streak of red and blue, and Lois, feeling a little nervous at the thought that someone had come into their house, opened the box and removed the Barbie. It was the typical Barbie, Lois noted with distaste, the over-developed chest, tiny waist and permanently empty smile. The Superman costume must have been specially made; it hugged her curves flawlessly. Checking the box, Lois found no note, no hint. Clark flew back into the room and immediately threw his work clothes back on, noticing that Lois had opened the box and taken the doll out. "Any clues inside?" "Not a thing. No note. No anything." "I'll bag it up and take it by the Batcave later. It's a long shot, but maybe there are some fingerprints or other clues." "Is it really that serious?" "Someone knows I'm Superman, and someone can get into and out of our house without being detected. I'd call that serious." Lois nodded. "You're right." The two finished up their breakfast in silence, thinking about what might happen next, then headed out the door. Clark then has the strangest feeling he was forgetting something and just as he closed the door and turned to join Lois it hit him; the empty feeling on his shoulder. "Hold on I forgot my..." He stopped himself before the word "purse" escaped his lips. He felt strangely that he should have a purse on his shoulder, and the fact that it wasn't there had been bothering him. Lois smiled awkwardly. "What?" "Nothing." "You're acting kind of weird." Clark kissed Lois on the cheek, careful not to mess her make-up. "I am weird, but you still love me, right?" "Always." Clark took off during his lunch break and brought the doll to the Batcave. Batman did an analysis. Found nothing. "Someone took special care to make sure this thing was totally clean, Superman. There's not a trace of dust on it let alone any kind of print or even some perspirational residue. The cloth in the uniform came from the same factory as most Barbie clothes, and the box is from the facility that makes all the Barbie boxes. Nothing to go on here." "Thanks for trying." "Is it something serious?" Batman asked, putting the Barbie back in its box and handing it to the Man of Steel. "I found it in my house this morning, and I don't know how it got there." "Well, be careful and let me know if there's anything I can do." "Right." During the flight back to Metropolis, Superman thought about what the doll could mean and who might have put it there. It was someone who knew his secret identity, someone with the means and the ability to get in and out without being detected. But who? And why? In the morning, he got his first real sense of what the doll meant when he woke up and found that during the night small breasts had blossomed on his chest. They were just little puddles of soft flesh now, tiny cones of jiggling female bosoms, but they there were unmistakably breasts and as he looked at them in the mirror he felt angry, ashamed and violated. Lois, still groggy with sleep, walked into the bathroom, and Superman immediately crossed his arms over his new acquisitions, slouching in embarrassment and trying to back out of the bathroom. "Morning," Lois said. "Morning," Superman answered, voice cracking. He dressed quickly, realized that his young breasts were obvious through his work shirt and threw on a sports jacket. 'I've got to find out who did this-is doing this-' He thought. 'I've got to make it stop. I can't let Lois find out.' Back in the kitchen, Clark found another box, larger and heavier than the last one. This one he opened without hesitation to find a large plastic box that contained dozens of Barbie outfits from dresses to skirts, to sweaters and riding clothes. He threw it down and scanned around the building with his x-ray vision. Nothing. No one. It had to be magic. As he made the coffee and tried to pretend that everything was fine, Clark couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't fully dressed. His skin felt cold and exposed, like he was missing an essential piece of clothing. When Lois came in the room, her held tilted to one side as she put on her earring, Clark looked at her and realized why he felt undressed: he wasn't wearing a bra, and it was the absence of the bra that was making him feel half naked. It was like he had been used to wearing a bra. He put his hands on Lois' shoulders and kissed her good morning. He was afraid if she got too close she'd find out about his chest, and he felt too ashamed and ridiculous to have his wife find out he was growing breasts. Lois saw the box with all the outfits. "Another gift from our special friend?" "I found it out here this morning," Clark answered, his voice scratchy. "Clothes for Barbie. It doesn't make any sense." Only, as he stood there fighting some kind of subconscious desire to put on a bra, Clark felt the clothes made only too much sense; he fought back the tangle of emotions that sight of the clothes brought, the forebodings about what they suggested about his future changes. Lois picked up a lavender leather mini-dress and smiled. "Cute," she said. "If only I were a few years younger, I could have a lot of fun with this stuff." Lois laughed, examining the other outfits. "I don't think it's funny." Lois stopped and looked at Clark. "Oh, I'm sorry. I know you're upset. I'm just trying to make the best of the situation." "We shouldn't stay here until we find out what's going on. We're too vulnerable." "Well, I see your point. Let's get a hotel room." "I'm going to find Zantanna and she if she can come over here and help out. I think magic may be involved." "Oh, why magic?" "It's just a feeling I have. I want to check it out and see." For the second day in a row, Clark couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't have left the house without his purse. Later that day, Clark took off his sports coat and, throwing his shoulders back, let Zantanna see the breasts pushing out against the front of his dress shirt. "Do you need to see them?" Clark's face was crimson with embarrassment. Zantanna, sensitive to how self-conscious Superman was about his chest, kept her face calm and dispassionate. "It would help if I could... examine them." Clark nodded grimly, undoing his shirt and pulled his t- shirt off to let his small fleshy cones bounce freely in the cool air. His nipples hardened and he fought back the urge to cover them with his hands. Zantanna murmured an incantation and placed her hands against the soft swellings, gently pressing the flesh, squeezing it, feeling it. Clark felt himself stiffen and fought back the desire, trying to ignore the tremblings of pleasure going through his body as Zantanna fondled his breasts. Finally, she finished. "You can dress now," she said softly, giving Clark a little pat on the shoulder. He dressed and joined her where she was examining the doll and the outfits. "These were magically placed inside your house, but they themselves aren't magical. I find only traces of the transportation spell on them. You are the fulcrum for the transformation spell." "How far is this going to go?" He gestured at his chest. The look on Zantanna's face told him what he feared, but when she spoke the words it still hit him like a sledgehammer. "Unless we stop the spell, you're going to become a female, Superman. It's just a matter of days." Female. He turned the idea over in his mind. It didn't make sense. He couldn't be a female. Couldn't. "Can you stop the spell?" "No. We have to stop the spellcaster. I'll start trying to track down the source of the magic. It may take some time." Superman swallowed. Shook his head. "Isn't there anything you can do? I don't want to be a woman." Zantanna patted him on the shoulder. "At least you won't lose your powers. I'll do what I can, okay?" Superman nodded. He wondered about telling Lois, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was too ashamed. They'd get separate hotel rooms. Sleep in separate beds. She wouldn't have to know. They'd find out who was doing it, and they would stop the spell. He flew to the Fortress of Solitude and ran speculative programs through his computer. Mr. Mxyzptlk wasn't due back for another ten days. No other former enemy showed up as likely. Finally, he ran a list of all known sorcerers who might have the ability to create such a change. Only one name appeared: Circe. But why? Did it matter? "Circe?" Lois sat at her desk, legs crossed at the knee. "Okay. But what does it mean? Why is she sending you Barbie dolls?" Clark shrugged. He'd buttoned his coat to make sure it didn't come open and reveal his secret. "It's obviously building up to something, and I don't think we should be together until I figure out what." "Not together?" "Right. You get a hotel room separate from mine. Someplace safe." "I don't want to leave you alone, Clark, I mean I knew what I was getting into when I married you." "Yeah, but why take chances when we don't have to? I don't want anything to happen to you Lois." Lois smiled. "Well, if you think it's best." She got up to kiss Clark. He kept her at arm's distance again. She gave him an odd look, but let it pass. "Maybe I could go over and stay with Lana?" "That's not a bad idea." Clark's voice cracked again. Lois pretended not to notice. With Lois out of the way, Clark went in search of the one person he was confident could provide insight into Circe's plans and motives, Wonder Woman, but he couldn't find her. Wherever she was, on whatever mission, she was unlocatable. No one knew where she had gone or for what reason. Could Circe have captured her? Clark flew home, wondering what changes the night would bring. As he got ready for bed, Clark found himself thinking about Lois' make-up table. He looked over at it with its bottles and jars, big, soft brushes for applying base and blush, pencils and tubes. He very badly wanted to go over and play with the make-up. To try different colors of lipstick and eyeshadow. Curling up in bed, he pushed the thoughts from his mind, blocking them out and determining that he would go after Circe in the morning one way or another. That night he dreamt of horses. Big powerful stallions. He was riding one through the forest, splashing across streams, guiding the big, strong animal to leap over fallen tress, his legs clasped tight around its powerful frame as it charged ahead, eager to obey Clark's directions, totally under control. Clark was happy in the dream, happy to have such complete control of a big, strong, masculine animal despite his own slender, female body. In the morning, he dreaded removing the covers, but he finally tossed them aside, rolled onto the edge of the bed and looked down at his body. His breasts were bigger now, like the size of a young woman's, round and firm and fleshy. His legs were round and smooth, and they looked like they might have grown longer, certainly more slender. His hands and arms were smaller and more feminine. "Clark!" He screeched in fright at the sound of the voice, wrapping his arms around the swelling of his breasts and pulling his knees to his chest. "Lois!" His voice was high and pretty, like the voice of a teen-age girl. Lois was sitting in the corner in the darkness, but she now jumped to her feet and rushed to Clark's side. "Clark, it's okay. It's me." "Go away," Superman pleaded, "I don't want you to see me like this." Lois ignored him, sitting on the bed and putting a hand on his smooth shoulder. "Hush... hush... it's okay, honey. I knew something was going on, but I just didn't know... well, look at you." Clark shied away from Lois' touch, but she held his shoulder and pulled him to her. "What are you doing here?" Clark asked. "You were supposed to be with Lana." "I knew something was going on. I decided to come and see for myself. I never expected to find... this..." "I'm turning into a woman," Clark finally admitted. "It started the day we got that doll." Lois started to speak, but just then Clark heard someone calling for help and the word, "Metallo!" "Someone needs help," Clark said, getting to his feet, forgetting about his problems for a moment. "Downtown." "What is it?" Lois asked, but Clark was already in his costume and zooming out the door in a blur. Superman flew to the scene as fast as he could, vaguely aware of the weight of his breasts and the new swerve of his rounding, widening hips. He ignored the awkward sensations, seeing Metallo throw a young woman off the top of a building, and he dove down to grab her in his arms to whisks her to safety. Superman flew to the top of the building and landed about ten feet from Metallo, his hands on his hips, feet set wide apart. "This isn't your style. What are you trying to prove?" He was surprised at how soft and girlish his voice sounded, but again he tried to ignore the changes and simply act as he always did. Metallo's eyes fell to Superman's breasts, and then went back up to his face. "And who are you, muffin? Could there possibly be another Superfreak in this town?" Superman felt his skin crawl as Metallo scanned his new assets. "Never mind who I am. I'm the one that's going to lock you up forever this time." Superman charged Metallo and locked arms with the giant steel robot, intending to twist his metal arms into pretzels and tie him up into a ball. Metallo's chest opened. Superman gasped as the green radiation from the kryptonite bathed him, sapping his strength. "But, Luthor took the kryptonite..." Metallo swept Superman into his arms and, firing the thrusters in his steel boots, flew from the top of the building down to the street where photographers snapped photos of him cradling the helpless... Woman... in his arms, then lifting her to her feet and, grabbing one of her breasts, tossing at the crowd. "Send me Superman," Metallo howled. "This ugly woman is no match for me." Superman tried to get to his feet, but fell on his side, his hip in the air. But just then, Metallo fired his boots and rocketed into the air as the sounds of running feet filled the air all around Superman and a soldier wearing the uniform of LexCorps pulled him to his feet and said, "It's okay miss. I'm here to help." The afternoon editions of the papers had to story on Metallo's return as well as the mysterious woman who tried to fight him. They have the pictures, Superman helpless in Metallo's arms, Metallo waving Superman around like a rag doll, one steel hand covering his breast. Superman, on the ground, helpless. Superman clinging to a young man from LexCorps, gazing gratefully up into the man's face as he helped him to safety. Superman looked like a stocky woman with somewhat masculine features, a tall, lanky girl with a square chin and bushy eyebrows. He hadn't looked in the mirror that morning, and he was surprised at how much he had already changed. Lois brought him a cup of chicken soup. He was in his robe and pajamas. "This is humiliating," he said, tapping the picture. "I look like a..." "Girl?" Lois offered. "Yes!" "You should go public with it now, before the changes are complete." "What?" "So people know who you really are. You should go public, get the story out in the open." "Lois, it's embarrassing." "You have to deal with it now, Clark." They argued, Superman blushing with shame at the thought of telling the world what was happening to him, but Lois hammered away, insisting he had an obligation to the people of Metropolis and the world that outweighed his personal discomfort. Finally, he agreed. Lois would write an article about his sex change to appear in the morning paper. He would appear at a news conference with her to announce the change and assure the public that Superman still had his powers, was still on the job. When Lois left to file the story, Clark wandered into their bedroom to get dressed. As if drawn by magnetic force, he went right to Lois walk-in closet and started looking at her clothes. This time, he couldn't fight the urge and soon he was wearing a long black skirt, a fluffy white sweater and glossy, knee high black boots, posing in front of the mirror, smiling. The clothes were too small, really, he was still too big and stocky, but he found an electric thrill in looking through the things, picking out outfits and slipping into them. He squirmed into dresses and shorts, blouses and tank tops, heels and boots and sandals. Finally, dressed in a big, baggy skirt and a peasant blouse, he sat happily at Lois' dressing table and brushed on blush and eye shadow before painting his lips a deep burgundy. He'd lost all track of time, and when Lois came through the door and found him leaning close to the mirror, his painted mouth wide open as he brushed mascara into his eyelashes, he just froze, looking at her stunned face with a forced, plastic smile. "There's something else about the spell I've been meaning to tell you," he finally managed in a small, girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar voice. "It... well, you can see." He was afraid she would laugh at him, or mock him. But she'd caught him and there was nothing he could do. "Oh, Clark. This has to be so hard for you." Lois shook her head sadly, and smiled, walking over and giving her husband a hug. This time he accepted it gratefully, not feeling self-conscious at all as his soft young breasts pressed into his wife's. "God, Circe really went all out, didn't she, honey? She really wanted to force a change." "I was afraid you'd laugh at me," Clark admitted, letting the words come out, tying to keep his small voice as small as he felt now in his skirt. "I'm ashamed of how I look and what I'm feeling, but I can't fight it. My thoughts are changing; I'm feeling like I've always been a girl and wanted to do girl things." "You poor thing," was all Lois could manage. "You poor thing." She was shocked to find her husband, to find Superman, dressed in women's clothes and putting on make-up. She felt angry at whoever had done this to him, had changed his body and his mind, turned her man into this... this girl. But there was another feeling there, something about seeing him looking so small and pretty, seeing him in a blouse and a skirt, putting on mascara contentedly, something that, seeing him reduced? Humiliated? Diminished? Something that felt happy and wanted to see the changes continue. The next morning brought more changes. To Clark's relief, his breasts hadn't gotten any bigger, but his waist has slimmed considerably and his hips and legs had taken on an entirely female shape. His hair was now half blonde half black, and it poured down to his shoulders and golden waves and ringlets, and his face had grown more feminine and more youthful. He looked like an 18 year-old girl now with the long, lanky legs and slender arms of a cheerleader. He looked, in fact, very much like Barbie, and they found Barbie's pink Mustang convertible waiting for them in the kitchen. In preparation, Clark had put on his old Superman uniform, and he felt ridiculous. "This thing wasn't in style when I first started wearing it," he said plucking at the material. "And with the shape I have now, it just looks silly." Lois nodded. Clark was talking with the speech patterns of the young woman he was becoming. It wasn't just his voice that was changing, but he was speaking in the musical, singsong so many perky young women seemed to use. "Well, I think you should wear it today for continuity. You can pick out something else later if you want. Maybe something a little more girly." Clark paused. "I don't know about that. I mean, shouldn't I be fighting this? I'm not sure I should just give in and start dressing and acting like a girl. I'm a man, Lois. Right?" Lois raised an eyebrow. "Well... yeah?" "You don't sound so sure?" "You don't sound so masculine." "Lois!" Lois fought the urge to smile, fought back the pleasure she felt. "Oh, I'm sorry. Let's just get you ready for today, okay?" "Okay. What else do I need?" One thing," Lois said, taking Clark by the elbow and leading him back to the bedroom mirror. "Look." She gestured toward his breasts. The cloth of Superman's outfit was clinging to the girlish swellings on his chest, and his nipples could be seen poking at the fabric. Clark shrugged, smiling shyly. "So?" "Do you really want to give every guy in Metropolis a bonner?" "Lois!" "Well, I'm sorry, but it's true. Look at yourself." "What should I do?" "Wear a bra, or at least an undershirt that might give you a little more modesty." The feeling from the day before returned to Clark, the feeling that he was missing the feeling of cups supporting his chest, the straps on his shoulders or the one across his back, the feeling that he should have been wearing a bra. But he knew, logically, that he was a man and that he had never worn a bra. And, anyway, some girls didn't, either. He swiveled his shoulders, watching how his chest moved. "I don't know about a bra just yet," he finally managed. "I mean, what if someone notices it? What will they say in the paper if they see?" "Okay, but let's at least get another layer between your 'girls' and the outside world, okay?" "Okay," Superman smiled gratefully. "Thanks." Across town, Luthor sat waiting for the news conference to start. He was holding the newspaper in his hands, looking at the picture of the helpless woman in Metallo's arms, and staring at the headline. "Superman suffers Sex Change." He read the article again. His men had already checked the story out to make sure it wasn't a prank. He felt strange stirring in heart, odd feelings he'd never acknowledged growing and taking shape. He let his finger run across the face of the woman, as she lay helpless in Metallo's arms, he studied the swelling of her breast, the way her feet dangled. He felt hot, but he had the shivers. What's wrong with me? What am I feeling? The news conference started. Luthor gasped. The changes had accelerated. A gorgeous young woman with black and blonde hair stepped to the microphone and in a tiny, feminine voice explained that she was Superman, that she was turning into a woman, and that she still had her powers and would continue fighting crime. She had big, inquisitive brown eyes and the most sensuous mouth. Luthor realized that he wanted her. Badly. As his wife. He had to possess her. He... did he really mean this? Did he even understand what the word meant? He had to love her. A reporter asked a question. The woman who was Superman giggled, put a slender hand to her mouth and did a little knee bend. "That's a silly question, Karen," he said brightly. "Of course I want to get back to being a man." He put a hand on a hip and ran the other one through his long thick, curly hair. "Next question?" Will you marry me? Luthor thought. Then smiled. Willingly? II "I sound like an idiot," Superman said, his arms crossed over his chest. "What the... goodness... was wrong with me?" He and Lois were watching a tape of the news conference. Superman, fighting the urge to slip into some of Lois' things, had changed into some of his old clothes and sat on the couch, his sleeves and pants legs rolled up, disgustedly watching himself giggle and smile and mince around the stage. As soon as he'd gotten in front of the crowd, he'd felt like there were butterflies in his tummy, his whole body had tingled with pleasure and he'd barely been able to contain his feminine excitement. He'd walked, talked and flirted like a girl, and it was only now as he watched the tape and felt ill at the sight of himself that he realized how totally his demeanor had changed. "It must be the spell, Clark. Once you were in front of the cameras, you just changed." "I don't know what to make of this, of me. Why is Circe doing this to me? What does she want?" "Is there anyway to contact her? To track her?" "None that I know of. I'm going to have to get some help somehow. Zatanna, maybe the Justice League... Oh, I just don't know what to do." Suddenly and without warning, tears brimmed in his pretty eyes and rolled down his cheeks. "Look at me," Clark said, wiping the tears, "crying like a girl." Lois came over and put an arm around him, pulling his head down onto her shoulder. "It's okay, sweetie. Let the tears come. It will be good for you." Clark didn't resist, but put his head on her shoulder and sobbed. After a time the tears stopped and Clark felt himself grow calm. "Feel better?" Lois asked. Clark smiled up at her gratefully. "Yeah, but silly." "Hey, it goes with the territory." "I guess." "Listen, Clark, I've got some things I better do work wise. I better get over to the Daily Planet. Will you be okay?" "Of course. I'm still Superman." "Well, is it okay if I still worry about you, Superman?" "Yeah." With Lois gone, Clark sat on the coach uncertainly, not really even aware that he was sitting with his knees together and his hands in his lap. He felt the now familiar urges to try on Lois' clothes, to make-up his face. But he resolved not to give in, to try and remain as true to his real identity as he could. But what should I do? He wondered, looking around. It might be time to visit the Justice League satellite and call for help. He didn't like the idea of facing them-any of them- like he was now, but he had very little choice. He'd have to face them all sooner or later- later, he thought, looking down at his perky young breasts. Later. The make-up table called to him. He pictures Lois' closet, the rows of skirts and dressed and blouses... but no, he was a man and he had to remain a man no matter what changes occurred in his body. That was one thing he was determined to see through to the end no matter what. A half hour later, he found himself in a slinky black cocktail dress, painting smoky eye shadow on his face and admiring how smooth and soft his rounded shoulders looked in the thin black straps. Finished painting his face, Clark fussed with his hair, pinning it up on his head, a couple golden ringlets tumbling down on either side of his smooth face before finally clipping on a pair of large, diamond earrings as well as a necklace and some of Lois' bracelets as well. Done, he slipped into a pair of black heels, grabbed the cute little black leather purse that went with the outfit, and walked back and forth in front of the mirror, admiring his long, smooth legs. The dress came only to mid-thing, revealing plenty of leg, but he also smiled and tried different poses, turning and admiring his plump, round but and his perky, firm if girlish breasts. Some parts of his body were still disappointingly masculine: his waist was a little think and his biceps a little thicker than he wanted, but he was pleased and proud at how feminine he appeared, and thought excitedly about the day his transformation would be complete. Lois came in to find Clark on the couch, still in her cocktail dress, carefully painting his press on nails a deep crimson. He smiled at her brightly, feeling less embarrassed than nervous. He badly wanted the approval of another female and leapt to his feet with his brightest smile. "How do I look?" Lois stopped halfway in the door, stunned, but finally shrugged. "Great?" "Really?" "Clark, you look fantastic. I'm very impressed." "You don't seem impressed." She looked at his glossy lips, lightly blushed cheeks, deep, passionate, eyes. "You did a great job on your make- up, dear. And your hair. I'm just... I wasn't expecting it." Clark did a triumphant knee bend, his earrings and bracelets glittering. "I wasn't expecting it either, but I just wanted to look as good as I could." "Well, I have some bad news." "What?" "Luthor is buying the Daily Planet. He says he will lay off most of the staff and fill the paper with syndicated material." "What?" "He did send you a message through me." Lois handed Clark the envelope, an envelope that looked like an invitation and smelled heavily of cologne. Clark, his face a mask of girlish concern, opened the envelope. It was an invitation to a lunch date at Luthor's office. The date was set for two days away. If you want to save the Daily Planet and your friend's Lois' job, be there. "What does he want?" Clark was emotionally confused; he didn't know whether to feel scared or angry, so he looked at Lois for guidance. Lois shrugged. "He must have gotten the news on your sex- change, and maybe he wants to push his advantage believing you're weak now." Clark, seeing Lois was calm and confident, felt better. "Should I go?" he asked sweetly. Lois tried to hide her surprise. He seemed so indecisive, so feminine. If the spell continued to go this way, Clark would be selling Mary Kay cosmetic door to door. He'd be useless in a fight super strength or no. "Well, it's up to you, Clark, but I think you might as well go and see what he has to say. It would be a shame for so many people to lose their jobs. But, I wouldn't dress like that." Clark suddenly felt awkward in his cute little black dress, his arms and legs bare, the tops of his breasts exposed. "God no, I hate to have Luthor see me like this at all, let alone dressed to kill." "Good thinking." Lois, suddenly, found herself entertaining an odd thought, a thought that seemed to come out of nowhere. "It seems a shame to eat in with you all dressed up like that, Clark. Why don't we go out tonight?" "Out? Like this?" "Why not? You look great. It would be fun. We could go to our favorite place. My treat?" "Divinci's?" Clark bit his lower lip. He was embarrassed at the idea of going out dressed like he was, looking like he was, but another part of him wanted to go out and have everyone see how pretty he was now. The fact that no one would know the pretty girl in the black dress was actually Superman just filed him with even more delight. "Oh, why not? No one will know who I am, anyway. Let's have some fun." Lois remained in her slacks, slipping on a black leather jacket and helping Clark into her full-length mink coat. "You'd freeze to death in that little dress." Clark smiled at his wife gratefully, feeling all snug and sexy in her coat. "You take such good care of me, Lois." The two chit-chatted happily all through dinner. At one point, one of the junior editors from the Daily Planet came over to say hi. He was a guy in his early thirties, short and average looking. "Lois," he said approaching the table, "how are you?" "Fine, Charlie. This is my cousin, Barbara. She's in town visiting." Charlie took Clark's hand and shook it, letting his grip linger just a moment too long. "It's always nice to meet a pretty young lady such as yourself." Charlie hadn't been able to keep his eyes off Clark's face- or his cleavage-during the 5 minute too boring conversation. When Charlie left, Clark made a gagging sign. "He is such a loser," Lois agreed with a shake of her head. "Yuck." "I thought he was going to fall down the front of my dress," Clark said in disgust. "Now I know how you girls feel." "See how annoying it is?" "Ugh! But, hey, what's with this Barbara?" "I couldn't introduce you as Clark, my sex-changed husband, could I?" "But why Barbara?" "It just sounds right." Clark thought about it for a moment. It did sound right. It felt right. "Well, I guess it's okay. The name is the least of my problems." He gestured down at his body. "The least." That night after scrubbing his make-up off, Clark slipped into one of Lois' nighties. It was a diaphanous blue gown with a lacy fringe around the top. Lois wore a white one in the same style, and they almost looked like two sisters as they lay down, their hair up, in matching nighties. "Goodnight, Barbie," Lois said, turning out the light. "'Night," Clark answered. Lois woke that night at 4 am, unable to sleep. For a time, she stared at the smooth, feminine face next to her, the soft features of her husband, topped with thick golden locks. His small but firm breasts rose and fell gracefully in his lacy nightie, and she could see that subtle changes had continued during the night as his neck had grown longer and more graceful, his arms smaller and more shell-like. He was such a pretty girl now. Lois got up and went into the other room, where Clark had put all of the strange Barbie stuff that had appeared in the days of the transformation. Some impulse over took her, and she went through the various outfits in Barbie's wardrobe, putting the cutest ones of the doll, enjoying the little make-overs. She wanted to do the same for Clark now; she wanted to buy different outfits and dress him like a living doll. One some level, she knew that she'd been put under a spell as well, a spell that made her want to make her husband into a living doll. But, she didn't care. It would be fun. She heard Clark get up and pad his way softly to the bathroom. Suddenly, she realized there was light streaming into the windows. Morning had come; she hadn't noticed. Then, she heard the sound of Clark emptying his bladder, the fits and starts, the delicate tinkling-she knew that Clark was now truly a woman. She smiled, looking at the Barbie in her hands. The doll was wearing a blue and white pleated skirt and a gauzy white sleeveless sweater that hugged her breasts and left her belly exposed. On the right breast was Superman's S. She had saddle shoes on her feet. Welcome to your new life, Clark, Lois thought with a smile. Love your new costume, Superman. For his part, Clark was not surprised at all to wake up and find that he had become completely female. He got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, eager to relieve the pressure in his belly. Hiking up his nightie around his waist, he sat down on the cold toilet seat, wincing at how chilly it felt against his behind, and let the pressure flow out from between his legs. It had been gross to have a-thing- with this body, he decided. It was good to be complete, but he would now HAVE to concentrate his energy on confronting Circe. After wiping himself, Clark took a moment to look in the mirror. Wow, he thought, looking at himself. His hair was now a thick, curly mane of platinum that tumbled down over his shoulders and halfway down his back, and his face had further refined itself to an ideal of teen-age beauty you'd see on YM or 16 magazines. His arms had finally gotten as slender as they should be, his hands long and delicate. His breasts, he felt a little disappointed. They were average size, smaller than Lois'. But, turning to get a look at his bust from the side, he shrugged and laughed. They were high, firm and perky. Plus, as young as this body was, they would probably get bigger. Clark took a quick shower, wrapped a towel around his hair and his body and vacated the bathroom. Lois was sitting on the edge of the bed holding the Barbie in a cute little pleated skirt, waiting her turn in the bathroom. "Morning," Clark chirped. "Morning, cutie." Lois held up the Barbie. "How do you like this for a new costume?" Superman gave the Barbie a quick look and burst into a radiant, feminine smile. "I looooove it," he said. "It's so cute." He took the Barbie in hand and admired how pretty it was. "The outfit looks familiar..." Lois stood up and made her way toward the bathroom. "Get dressed. I have plans for today." Clark turned and watched Lois make her way to the bathroom, admiring how gracefully she moved and admonishing himself to learn to walk in a more appropriate manner. When Lois came out of the bathroom, also towel-wrapped, she found Clark at her dressing table, carefully painting his lips a glossy crimson. He was dressed in a pair of her slacks--black and white checkered-and wearing a matching halter-top. They made eye contact in the mirror but didn't speak as Lois dressed herself and followed Clark at the make-up table. While Lois did her own face, Clark found a pair of sandals and went out to the kitchen and prepared breakfast for both of them. When Lois came out to eat, sitting down to a half a grapefruit, yogurt and cottage cheese that matched her husband's meal, Clark brought each of them a cup of coffee and, sitting down across from Lois, put a small hand under his chin. "I think I'm done transforming." Lois swallowed a spoonful of yogurt and took Clark's other hand. "I got that impression. How are you with it?" "Better than I should be. It feels... right somehow. I know I shouldn't feel this way. I guess it's part of the spell." "It must be." "Does it bother you?" "Not as much as it should." Clark nodded, smiling as supportively as he could. "You said you had plans?" "Yes." Clark grinned. It was fun being teased. "And?" "And, you'll see." "Tell me! Tell me!" Clark was practically bouncing in his chair, squealing prettily. "Tell me!" Lois couldn't help but give in. "We're going shopping. For you. You should have some clothes that fit better than mine. And, a new costume. What do you think?" Clark's eyes lit up. "I really do need some clothes that fit. I think I would feel more confident about facing people if I looked a little more stylish." "Good," Lois said. "Then it's settled. Just a couple of girls at the mall." "What fun," Clark said with a fake little clap of the hands. The whole day, Lois and the sales girls picked out different outfits for Clark. He had no idea what a girl should wear and was more than happy to try and outfit they suggested, disappearing into the changing room to emerge a little later, doing a little twirl, showing off the pretty clothes and smiling, eager to see if 'the look' worked. When Lois frowned and shook her head he was quick to agree, and when she smiled and told him he looked sexy or cute in a particular outfit he gushed with pride. They used his new name-Barbie-and he got used to the name. "Barbie, walk towards me, then do a turn." "Barbie, straighten your back and stand in the light so I can get a better look." "Barbie is so sweet..." "Thanks, Barbie, it was great to meet you..." Barbie, try that dress with this belt... or Barbie, try that skirt with this blouse. Slacks... sweaters... skirts and dresses... belts, jeans, blouses and bras... they spent all day outfitting Barbie, putting together mix and match ensembles, marveling at how good she made a leopard spotted tank top look, or a pair of fashionably ripped hip hugger jeans. Finally, weighed down with packages, the two tired females left the mall and made their way home. Barbie was glowing, happy and excited, chattering incessantly about her experiences at the mall and how excited she was to have her own clothes now. Once home, Lois had Clark try on his new Superman outfit. It was exactly as she had dressed the Barbie--pleated skirt, tight white sweater with custom S, saddle shoes. Clark decided to wear red panties with the Superman logo under the skirt in case there was a big wind, and added a blue scrunchie for his hair and some jewelry. He stood in the living room, one hand on his hip; the other buried in his thick blonde hair, leaning to one side, his long, tone, tan legs going on forever. "I like it," he said. "It's wholesome, but sexy." Lois nodded. "The make-up scheme is perfect." She and Barbie had spent a solid hour working out what color scheme would perfectly suit Superman, and had finally ended up with a gorgeous combination of pearly baby blue and pink that suggested virginal innocence and kept with the color scheme of the costume. Superman picked up a compact and examined his face, pursing his lips doubtfully. "I still think it's too girly? I'm an adult?" "It's perfect, sweetie. But, there is one thing you are missing." Lois went into her bedroom, dug through the closet and came back with a petite black backpack. "Here." "A backpack?" "Clark, you need a place to keep your make-up, possibly a change of clothes, even some tampons." "Tampons!" "Of course. What if Braniac attacks on a high flow day? In fact, you should keep some Midol in there as well." "You are so crazy!" "Not at all, Clark. You're a girl now and periods are going to be a part of your life." For the first time that day, the old, masculine Clark recoiled. Periods? Tampons? I don't want to deal with that, he thought. Good god. He was aware, once more, that he was a man with breasts and a slit, a man with lipstick smeared on his mouth, wearing a little skirt and a pair of crimson panties. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Lois, you're right. I mean, what have I been thinking? I should have been out trying to end this, not shopping for clothes. What's happening to me?" Lois was surprised to see her little Barbie's sudden change in attitude. "Clark? What's happening? You seemed perfectly content with things just a minute ago." "I know, but when you mentioned my period, it was like a wake-up call. I'm a man, Lois. A man, but look at me. Look how I'm dressed, how I'm acting. I shouldn't be worrying about getting my Superman make-up right. I shouldn't be wearing..." Suddenly he stopped, tilting his head to the side. "Now what?" "Metallo!" And with that, Superman burst out the window in his new outfit, golden earrings leaving behind streaks of glittering light as he launched himself into action.