(Superman to Slutty Female Maid)
Superman landed with his usual grace, which is to say Lex Luthor would need a groundwork crew to handle the mess he’d made of a perfectly polished terrace. The supervillain made a mental note to add it to the list of the Kryptonian’s transgressions.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Man of Steel?” Lex turned towards the glowering hero.
“Lex. This time you’ve gone too far.” Superman growled. It took him a usual amount of perfect self-restraint to keep himself from hitting the man with a dose of heat vision, and he was glad for it. Such temptations reminded him he wasn’t perfect, reminded him that he was more human than the press gave him credit for.
“You’ll have to be more specific.” Lex drawled, and Superman grit his teeth.
“I know that your drones have been inspecting the wreckage of Kryptonian artifacts on Earth.” Superman growled. “It’s a desecration of the dead.”
“And yet I have every right to. I don’t see anyone marking them as historical sites, or protected regions.” Lex smiled quietly, and Superman could hear that his heartbeat hadn’t even hitched a beat. “It’s really no different from excavating tombs, and restoring the contents.”
“It’s personal.”
Lex smiled at that. It was good to know that he was getting beneath the Kryptonian’s skin, and he leaned back on his desk. “Personal? My, and here I thought you fought for the common man, and not yourself. Do yourself a favor and care for the living before the dead, or”
The punch took him off guard. It shattered Lex’s refractor field in an instant, winding him. Superman hadn’t even seemed to move. One second he was there, the next his clenched hand was embedded in Lex’s gut.
“And what,” Lex wheezed, “if I hadn’t been wearing any protection? You can’t solve everything with your fists.”
“X-Ray vision. As to that latter statement, I’ve found my fists work well so far. You’ve been warned, and next time you dig through my people’s history I’ll make it League business. I’m sure we have more than a few grounds to stand on.”
“So. The League doesn’t know.” Lex grinned, gleaning the important information from the righteous tirade. “Perfect.”
With that, he pressed his big toe down into his shoe, hitting a recessed, lead-lined button. Superman might be close to perfect, but he wasn’t. He had his weaknesses, and this was one of them.
An obsidian necklace fell across Superman’s neck, and the man wheezed as though injured.
“What’s…” Superman huffed, looking to his hands in distress, watching as the muscle began to sap itself from his bones. “This is… How?”
“Black Kryptonite. Something of my own design, with help from… Well, no sense revealing associate’s identities.” Lex paced around his desk, sitting down and folding his hands. “Let’s just say I had to bargain with some charlatan magicians.”
“Magic?” Superman gasped. He could feel it, feel the arcane energy setting the hairs on the back of his neck on end. Then the hairs began to recede into his body, as did the hairs on his arms and his legs. He gasped, looking to his dwindling body.
Diminishing muscles, receding body hair… “You’re making me into a child?” He asked, gritting his teeth. Quickly he reached for the necklace, but it was like a mental block was keeping him from taking it off.
“Not exactly.” Luthor smirked, leaning back in his seat.
Superman had a moment to consider his words before an ache began to settle in his chest. He looked down and grunted in shock as he watched a pair of breasts swell out from his toned chest, clearly visible in the looser fabric of his uniform.
His ass was swelling too, and it seemed the growth was at the cost of his muscles, at his bulk, and at… His eyes widened as he felt his manhood ache. It was like an erection in reverse, the pleasure was still there but he could feel himself diminish rather than swell.
As Superman stumbled towards the desk, he realized that both parts of his moniker weren’t as accurate as they might have once been. The Kryptonite was stripping him of the former, and it seemed the magic was stripping him of the latter.
With every step he took, his hair lengthened more, though it didn’t grow to the same extent that he’d seen his cousin sport. Rather, this was neck-length, curled so it didn’t quite touch his shoulders. He could feel it bob as he sank against the desk, his new breasts jiggling.
“My, my… It really is something, seeing your plans come together.” Lex folded his fingers, delighting in the superhuman’s struggles. “But you wouldn’t know about that, given that you hardly plan things. Fly in, threaten your superiors… Honestly, I’m impressed it’s taken me this long.”
The tyrant placed his hands on the desk, looking closer to Superman’s face and smirking as he saw it lose definition, lose tone. The hero was becoming a rather fetching woman, and one that Lex would be glad to have on his staff.
He rose, circling around behind Superman and tugging his uniform down. It exposed Superman’s shapely curves, his erect nipples, his dripping pussy. It didn’t really feel right to think of Superman as a ‘him’ anymore, or even as ‘Superman’.
“I think you’ll need a new name.” Lex lorded over the fallen hero, grabbing her by an arm and tugging her to her feet. “So, let’s go with something simple. Beatrice in French means ‘bringer of joy’, and I imagine you’ll bring me a good deal of it.”
Beatrice looked up at her captor in terror, realizing that he’d overwritten her mind. She couldn’t even think of herself as a man, much less recall the details of who she’d been. “Non, monsieur!” She gasped, her voice breathy and dusky.
Her voice made her blink in surprise, both for its dulcet tones and for the fact that she’d spoken in flawless French. “Pourquoi je parle en français?” She asked, trying to reason why he’d changed her language.
“Because it will make you infinitely simpler to hide, and because it’s a language befitting a maid.” Lex explained slowly, as though he was talking to a rather dimwitted girl. The venom-laced tone he used made the intelligence drip from Beatrice’s mind, and she audibly squealed as she felt herself become stupid.
Then the feeling passed, and the maid looked to her master, jiggling her breasts. “Mass-ter?” She asked, trying her best to speak his language. “Bea horny…”
“Of course you are. And I have just the cure for your ailment.” Lex grinned, undoing his pants and exposing himself to her.
Beatrice gasped, lifting a delicate hand to her lips. “Mass-ter! Non! That not meddysin!”
Beatrice pouted as Lex rolled his eyes, then squealed with carnal delight as he demonstrated to her just how he could cure her ailment.
A week later, Lex cupped his head in his hands. “Honestly, I don’t know why I decided to keep you on staff, rather than lock you in a ward.”
“Eet was just the one vase!” Beatrice pouted, her raven locks bobbing as she swayed from side to side. The hem of her dress grazed Lex’s desk as she looked to him guiltily, a whine slipping from past her lips.
“Today. One vase today. Two yesterday, one the day before… It adds up, you realize. If you don’t provide me with some reason to keep you on staff, I’m shipping you off.” Lex spoke surely and darkly, his head aching. Somehow she was just as annoying as a maid as she was a superhuman.
She didn’t reply, which only grated at his nerves. “Well? Can you do anything right?”
Beatrice answered him this time, with actions rather than words. She hopped onto his desk, breaking a priceless Ming artifact in the process, then turned towards him, revealing her soaked panties. “Bea can theenk of one thing…”