Superman gets big

by Richard Jasper

Perry White sends Clark Kent off to cover his first bodybuilding contest, prompting interesting developments!

Added: 14 Nov 2020 9,920 words 1,914 views No votes yet

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Please note: Even though I employ the names of some real people, this is a work of fiction. Nothing in this fantasy is meant to imply anything at all about the real people who bear these fictional characters’ names.—rpj
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The North American Bodybuilding and Fitness Championship was being held in Metropolis and Perry White, editor of the Daily Planet, assigned Clark Kent to cover the story.

He’s such a wuss, White thought. Maybe those big guys will shake him up.

Clark quite enjoyed the expo. Aside from the few criminals he’d met who were doing illegal steroids, he had never paid much attention to bodybuilding. He was straight, for one thing, so hugely muscled men did nothing for him. Likewise, he preferred women who were soft and feminine.

Like Lois, he thought, then thought better of it. Control, Clark, control!

It was just as well that the Man of Steel had a Will of Steel, too. For whatever reason, Kryptonian men were apparently much better hung than the average human and when Clark’s rod sprang to life it could be positively terrifying. Still, it was cool to see these guys working so hard to make themselves big and strong. He was quite astounded at just how big and just how strong.

Nothing compared to me, of course, he thought to himself.

Well, not in the strength department. Under his dowdy street clothes, of course, Superman had a killer bod, 6’4” tall and 225 pounds of ripped muscle, with ridiculously broad shoulders and a slender, cobble-stoned midsection. Everything bulged in perfect proportions. But that wasn’t all that much compared to these guys. There were men a foot shorter than he was carrying the same amount of muscle. And the few who were his height or taller.

My goodness, Clark thought, ever the good little Sunday school boy. These men make me feel like a little girl!

He had a good time talking to Branch and Victor and Kai and Frank and that “new kid,” Lorenzo Becker, and all the other top competitors. At last he came to the booth featuring the former soldier, Noah Steere, who, at 6’6” tall, was the only competitor actually taller than Clark. Steere was pleased to meet Clark, giving him a good looking over, a rather more intense assessment than the other guys had made. He held onto Clark’s hand a bit longer than the others had, locked eyes with him a bit longer.

I wonder, Clark thought… And then he found himself falling into Noah’s big arms!

“Whoa, buddy,” Noah said. “Are you feeling okay? Let’s get you settled down here.”

Clark felt light-headed and nauseous. Kryptonite, his mind hissed. It’s got to be Kryptonite! But where? If anything, sitting down made him more light-headed but the nausea began to recede. Clark found himself looking at a display recounting Noah’s distinguished military career. He’d gotten into bodybuilding in the military and had served in Iraq and Afghanistan with distinction. In fact…

That’s it, Clark gasped. There on the display was the Purple Heart Noah had received for valor and wounds received while under fire. The Purple Heart glowed in a way that only Clark, a Kryptonian, could perceive. Purple kyrptonite? He wondered. Since when…?

Then he passed out.

“Whu, wha where am I?” Clark muttered.

“Hey, buddy,” Noah said. “Take it easy there. You just passed out for a minute. I’m gonna call 911…”

Clark sat up. “No,” he said. “That’s really okay. I skipped lunch before I came out, I think I was just hungry, that’s all.” Noah was on one knee in front of Clark. Jeezus, Clark thought to himself. He really is fucking huge. Which was true enough. In addition to being 2 inches taller than Clark, Noah weighed in at a phenomenal 350 pounds of off-season muscle. His 26 inch biceps were nearly as big as Clark’s shapely, 28 inch quads.

Noah’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile threatening to break out. “Well, in that case,” he said. “You ought to let me take you to lunch.” Clark shook his head. “Oh, no,” he replied, beginning to stand up. “I really…” Noah reached out and effortlessly pulled Clark to his feet.

Wow, Clark thought. For an Earthling he’s fucking strong!

“Hey, now,” Noah said. “It’s not exactly charity, ya know? I wouldn’t mind being the one guy here to have a one-on-one interview with the celebrated Clark Kent!” Clark blushed. “Uh, well,” he began. “Really? You know my stuff?” Noah chuckled.

“I grew up in Massington,” Noah pointed out. Massington, like Smallville, was a farming town about 50 miles distant from Metropolis, only in the opposite direction. “We’ve always taken the Daily Planet as well as the local paper.”

Clark waited while Noah gathered up his stuff, including the Purple Heart, which no longer seemed to have quite the same effect on Clark. Instead of light-headed and nauseous, he was feeling warm and, well, mellow maybe? This is really weird, Clark realized, but that was about as much as he could deal with. Like a lost puppy, he followed Noah to his Jeep in the convention center loading dock area.

“I know just the place to feed a big boy like you,” Noah said, as they settled in. Noah’s words brought a warm glow to Clark’s cheeks.

I think he likes me!

As they pulled away, Noah settled his large powerful hand on Clark’s knee. The feeling was electric. It didn’t occur to Clark to wonder what was going on. He loosened his tie and put his left arm around the back of Noah’s seat.

“Let’s go, Big Fella,” Clark said.

This is going to be an interesting ride! Noah said to himself with a smile.
Noah took Clark to Mo’s, a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place on the Southside.

“I really got into Tex-Mex when I was stationed at Ft. Hood,” Noah said, squeezing into the booth.

Jeez, Clark thought. His shoulders are nearly as wide as the whole booth! Clark ate, of course, even though he didn’t need it (and didn’t excrete it, for that matter; his super Kryptonian body metabolized all of it.) But people expected him to eat (and go to the bathroom, for that matter) so he’d long ago learned how to go through the motions. Still, having grown up in Smallville and with no particular incentive to try new things, Clark’s taste in food was Midwestern at best. Bland this, bland that, blah, blah, blah.

Noah made recommendations and asked Clark how spicy he liked it? “Oh, I’m tough,” Clark said. His super tongue and super gullet could consume a whole field of chili peppers if need be. “I’ll take it like you do.” Noah smirked. “Maybe not that hot,” he replied. “I’ll order for you, okay?”

Clark nodded. The nausea was gone but he was still feeling, well, odd. Definitely mellow but also somewhat muzzy headed, as if he were wrapped in cotton.

“Wow,” Clark said when the food arrived and he started shoveling it in. “This is really good and…” Clark spluttered, turned red, then broke out into a sweat. “Here, drink this down,” Noah said, handing Clark a big glass of sweet tea. “You bit right into a jalapeno.”

Clark quickly drained the glass, sat it down, and leaned back. “Oh my god,” he said. “What was that?” Noah just chuckled. “Hey, man, you told me you liked it hot! I guess you meant hot from a Smallville point of view, huh? That rates about half a pepper most places!”

Clark touched the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “Ya know,” he said wonderingly. “I think I burned the roof of my mouth.” Noah motioned the cute Latina waitress over and asked for a glass of ice. “You suck on that,” he told Clark, when it came. “That’ll take care of it. You know how to suck, don’t you?”

Clark blushed.

“So tell me, Noah,” he said, aiming for a distraction. “Just how did you get to be so fucking, uh, I mean, impressively huge?”

Noah shrugged his massive shoulders. He outweighed Clark by more than 100 pounds, all of it in the right places. “I was always naturally athletic as a kid,” he said. “I played all the sports, did all the PT stuff in school and in boot camp. But I didn’t really work on getting big until I was already in the Army.” Clark nodded. His own natural athleticism was always something he had to hide, even though his high school chums, especially that hottie Tom Welling, had always been after him to sign up for football and whatnot.

“By the time I started, I was already 225 pounds and was benching 315 pounds for reps,” Noah continued.

“Really?” Clark asked. “That’s as much as I weigh. 315 sounds like a lot!”

Noah chuckled.

“315’s not bad when you only weigh 225 and you’ve never touched a weight before,” he observed. “But that was 125 pounds ago. Now I’m 350 and bench 1050 for reps.”

Clark thought about that. “Sounds impressive!” Noah looked at him, frowning slightly. “Sounds impressive? How much do you bench?” Clark thought about that. As far as he could tell, Superman’s strength had no known limits; he was, after all, capable of distorting the space time continuum.

“Uh…”

Noah laughed. “Don’t tell me a big guy like you has never hit the weights?” Noah asked, reaching across the table and feeling Clark’s big arm through his starched white shirt. Without thinking, Clark flexed it a bit. “Actually,” Clark said. “I don’t. It’s all, uh, what do you call it? Calisthenics. You know. Push-ups and chin ups and deep knee bends and that kinda stuff.”

Noah whistled. “Jeez, boy, that’s pretty fucking incredible. You’re obviously built like a brick shit house. And you’ve never touched a weight? Wow!” Clark blushed again. “Oh, I’m not all that,” he said. “Especially compared to a guy like you.”

Noah grinned at that and flexed his gigantic 26 inch arm. “You like these big muscles, Clark?” Clark licked his lips. “You bet, Noah,” Clark replied. “I’ve never seen anything like ‘em!” Noah just looked at Clark, as if trying to decide something. “Well, I’d be happy to give you a show,” he said. “Ultimately, y’know, it’s all about how a guy looks on the stage, not how much he hangs out in the Expo hall.”

Clark felt another jolt of electricity go through his body. Dayum, he thought. What I wouldn’t give… “Y’know,” Clark said. “I think you’re absolutely right. I need to see what this posing stuff is like. But, uh…”

Noah laughed. “Where? Not here, obviously!” he said. “We could go back to my hotel or…” Clark didn’t think twice “Heck, we can go to my condo,” he said. “There’s plenty of room and I bet the lighting is a lot better.” Noah smiled.

Gotcha.

“Just tell me where to go, Big Guy,” Noah said, draping his arm around Clark’s broad shoulders as they walked back to the Jeep.

Silvia, the cute Latina waitress, rolled her eyes. “Look at those two big guys,” she hissed at Julio, the bus boy. “In public, no less.” Julio just nodded, a dreamy smile on his sexy young face. “Someday,” he said.

Silvia whacked his ass with her dish towel.

“You’re all alike!”

“I’d offer you a beer or something,” Clark said, looking at his nearly empty fridge, “but all I’ve got is Capri Sun.”

He turned to see Noah standing on the other side of the kitchen counter, slowly pulling off his 4XL Boston Celtics jersey. thwap. The Capri Sun containers burst when they hit floor and Clark slipped in the puddle, banging his elbow on the granite counter top. Noah was on Clark in a flash.

“Sorry, man, sorry!” Noah exclaimed. “I thought you wanted me to pose.”

Again, he effortlessly lifted Clark from the floor, Clark gripping Noah’s massive forearms. They feel like steel columns, Clark thought. And they’re about as thick.

“We may need to have that elbow seen about,” Noah said. “Here I’ll get some ice for it.”

Clark looked at his elbow, which had an egg-sized bump on it that was already turning black and blue. It throbbed with…Pain?!!! “Holy crap,” Clark said. “Look at that!” Noah gave him puzzled glance. “Well, yep, that’s a beaut all right,” he said. “But nothing I haven’t done a thousand times. You really didn’t play any sports, did you?”

Clark ignored him. He was running a quick diagnostic check list. Super Eyesight: Nada. Super Hearing: Zip. Super Strength: Zilch! Since when couldn’t he crush a granite counter top to dust?

“Buddy, you doing okay?” Noah asked, beginning to get concerned.

Clark stood quickly and moved to the terrace; Clark’s condo overlooked Metropolis’ famed Elm Avenue from 10 floors up. Noah watched as Clark looked at the parapet, then turned and looked at one of patio chairs. Quickly Clark stood on the chair and stepped off. It was almost as if he expected to float!

“Oh my God,” Clark said. He stumbled back inside, once again falling into Noah’s arms. The big man guided Clark to the sofa and sat down beside him. “I feel so weak.”

Noah tsk’ed and slapped himself on the forehead.

“Dammit, I guess I shouldn’t have taken you to Mo’s after all,” Noah said. “I forget what it’s like to grow up eating food in a place like Smallville.”

Clark shook his head. “That’s not it, it’s just…” He stopped. He stared at Noah, sitting there shirtless next to him on the Italian leather sofa. “Jesus,” Clark breathed. “You are totally fucking huge.” Noah smiled, again flexing that tremendous arm of his. “You like it?” Clark moaned. “God, I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said. Noah stood up and looked down at Clark.

“Then you’re gonna like this, I bet.”

With that Noah peeled off his pants and went through the standard posing routine. Clark’s eyes got bigger and bigger. A faint sheen of perspiration coated his forehead. As Noah posed, he called off his stats:

“Height: 6 feet 6 inches, tallest pro in the sport.”
“Weight: 350 pounds, biggest pro in the sport.”
“Forearms: 22 inches—about the same size as Arnold’s upper arm, back in the day.”
“Upper arms: 26 inches—bigger than a normal man’s thigh.”
“Chest: 70 inches. Gotta work on that. I’m not gonna be happy until my chest measurement matches my height, 8 inches to go!”
“Waist: 35 inches. Big compared to most pros but it doesn’t look it, does it?”
“Quads: 36 inches.”
“Calves: 25 inches.”

When he was done, Noah stood in front of Clark with his hands on his hips.

“Whaddya think, Clark?” he asked. “You think I ought to try on some blue tights and a red cape?” Clark’s eyes bugged out. “I, uh, well…” Noah laughed. “Just teasin’ ya, man, I don’t get off on that kinda dress up stuff,” he said. “Although, in fact, I’ve always thought Superman was a major hottie.”

Clark’s head jerked up.

“Really?”

Noah nodded quickly.

“Oh, yeah, man, he’s got a great body, not just super strength, ya know? Not very big, of course, probably about your size but ripped as shit.”

Clark began to feel flustered. “Not very big?” Noah squared his big broad shoulders, flexed his monstrous pecs, and locked his giant lats into place. “Do you really think Superman would have any chance in a posedown with this?” he asked, his voice a low rumble. Clark suddenly realized that his penis was more engorged that it ever had been in his life. Whatever self-control he may have possessed seemed to have deserted him along with his super powers.

“So, Clark,” Noah said. “Is that an RPG in your pocket or were you happy with my posing routine?”

Clark’s eyes traveled down the two meters of power that was Noah Steere, from his ruggedly handsome face, over the tremendous expanse of his chest, and his impossibly large, rippled abs, and rested upon…”Wow,” Clark said. “I guess you’re big all over, huh?” Noah reached his big hand down and pulled Clark up off the sofa. “I think you’re feeling a bit better,” Noah said. “Isn’t it about time you took off these clothes to show me what you have under there?”

Clark blushed but he didn’t protest when Noah pulled off his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. He didn’t protest when Noah reached in and began nuzzling his neck with his handsome, manly face, the stubble on his sexy chin scraping across Clark’s smooth one.

“Woof,” Clark said.

“Damn,” Noah said, when he had Clark’s shirt off. “Look at you, man! You’re ripped as shit. Superman wouldn’t stand a chance posing against you either!”

The irony in that statement was lost to Clark, his mind being filled with lust. Noah put his huge strong hand behind Clark’s thick powerful neck and pulled Clark’s face toward his own.

“Give us a kiss?”

Clark’s lips parted. He let Noah’s tongue in. And then he wasn’t letting Noah do anything. He was kissing back. He was kissing back hard. His hands were running all over Noah’s huge body, his body was trying to meld itself with Noah’s.

“Fuck,” Clark said. Noah chuckled. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Clark was no longer capable of making a coherent sentence; his head nodded, slowly at first, and then vigorously, and then his mouth resume its exploration of Noah’s granite pecs.

“Whatever you say, buddy boy,” Noah said, hoisting Clark over his shoulder.

Whatever you say!

“I’m coming out,” Clark told Perry White the next morning. The editor-publisher’s famously unlit cigar fell from his mouth.

“Get out,” White exclaimed.

“Well,” Clark said, “if that’s the way you want it…” White rushed around his desk and gave Clark a big hug. “Don’t be ridiculous, man, I’m proud of you,” White said, pounding Clark’s back. “I always knew, of course, I just didn’t think you had it in you!” Clark’s jaw dropped. As far he could recall, White had never given anyone, even his mother or his dog, a hug. And he was fairly certain the words I’m proud of you had never crossed White’s lips, except perhaps as a quotation and then almost certainly accompanied by a sneer.

“Why, to tell you the truth,” White said, getting all choked up. “I’ve always felt like you were the son I never had, Clark. I’m so pleased that you’ve figured it out.”

Clark went to his desk and banged out a story. White put it above the fold on the front page, with Clark’s mug shot as well as his by-line.

I’m Coming Out

The headline on the afternoon edition was in Second Coming type.

Lex Luthor chortled when he read it.

Jimmy Olson pumped his fist in the air.

“Yeah,” he shouted. “I knew it.”

Lois Lane stood up from her desk so fast she knocked her coffee cup into her lap.

“Jeezus *&^%$#@ Christ,” she exclaimed. The girl had a mouth on her, after all.

“Clark!”

“Clark!”

“Clark!”

The newsroom was in an uproar and Clark’s phone was ringing off the hook. So were his cell phone, pager, and blackberry, which he had left in his desk as (once again) he sneaked out the back door.


“Clark!” Noah wrapped Clark in his big arms and swept him off his feet, twirling him around, then setting him down. “That was so fucking sweet,” Noah said, glancing at the headline.

Clark blushed. “I know it’s sudden, Noah, but, will you, would you consider…?” Noah laughed, placed his big bear paws under Clark’s armpits, and—whoosh!—lifted him high in the air. “Be your boyfriend? Marry you? Bear your children?” Noah asked.

Clark grinned delightedly. “Put me down, you big oaf!” Noah complied, then pulled Clark close. “Yes,” he whispered in Clark’s ear, then held him at arm’s length and continued: “Yes, yes, yes!” Clark beamed.

“The best thing is Perry is giving me a six-month sabbatical,” Clark continued. “He wants me to come back and do a series on my ‘journey of personal exploration and growth,’ can you believe it? Who’d have thought he was an old softie?” Noah laughed. “You could have fooled me!”

Then Clark turned serious.

“But what about you, Noah, how is all this going to work for you?” Noah pointed out that he spent probably thirty percent of his time on the road, going to shows and expos and promoting his products. “The rest of the time I’m at the gym or at home with mom and dad in Massington,” he continued. “I think they’re about ready for me to move out! Have been for the past 4-5 years, actually.”

Clark looked at his lover closely.

“Are you sure?”

Noah laughed. “Babe, I’m sure. I can do my job from anywhere so long as there’s a good gym and Metropolis isn’t lacking, that’s for sure.”

And that’s how they started their time together.


“Noah,” Clark said the next morning over breakfast. “I want to get big.”

God he’s so fucking huge and gorgeous, Clark thought. Noah was sitting at the patio table wearing nothing more than a pair of white cotton boxers, his big dick stretching out along the inside of his monstrous quads.

“You are big, babe,” Noah replied, eating his cottage cheese and nectarines. “Compared to most men you’re huge.” Clark blushed. “I wasn’t talking about down there,” he observed. Noah grinned. “I wasn’t either,” he replied, “although now that you mention it, Big Man, I can’t say I’ve ever seen one bigger or finer. That’s one helluva muscle you’ve got between your legs.”

This blushing thing is really weird, Clark thought. But I kinda like it.

“Be that as it may,” Clark said primly. “The fact is, I want to be big like you, Noah. I think my Big Man deserves one of his own!”

Noah set aside the Daily Planet. Today’s headline read:

Whither Superman?

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Clark,” Noah said. “It’s a tremendous amount of work.” Clark sat a bit straighter. “I’m a hard worker,” he pointed out. Noah reached across the table and ruffled Clark’s dark blue-black hair. “And you’ve got outstanding potential, that’s obvious.”

Clark grinned at that.

“So let’s do it!”


“Okay,” Noah said. “Let’s check you out on the three building block exercises.” Noah told Clark that the core of strength training / bodybuilding rested on just three heavy duty compound exercises: the bench press, the squat, and the dead lift. “There are a million variations on them, plus all the ancillary exercises that target a particular body part, like curls for arms,” Noah continued. “I want to see how well you do with each. It’s important to have good form.”

Clark tucked his head down and kind of hemmed and hawed, as if he felt embarrassed about what he was about to ask. “Could we, uh, you know, take my m-me-measurements first?” he stammered. Noah smacked himself on the forehead. “D’oh,” he replied. “Of course! Always keep track of where you’re starting from.”

Noah grabbed a measuring tape from the front desk and led Clark to the changing area where there was an electronic scale and a height measure.

“Yep, right at 6 feet 4 inches, just two inches shorter than I am,” Noah said, then added. “And 225 pounds in your boxer briefs and no shoes, and, damn boy, you are totally ripped.”

Noah pulled out the tape and showed Clark how to flex. Then he took the measurements, one at a time, and carefully wrote them down on the personal history card he’s set up for Clark. Noah whistled when he was done. “Shee-it, boy,” he said. “Yer fucking amazing.”

Clark read the stats: Forearms, 17 inches / Upper arms, 19 3/4 inches / Neck, 19½ inches / Chest, 51 inches / Waist, 31 inches / Quads, 28 inches / Calves, 20 inches.

He looked at Noah, who was beaming. “So these are good?” Noah guffawed. “They’re fucking awesome, Clark, that’s all there is to it,” Noah replied. “Most guys would kill to have stats like that. Hell, most pros would kill to have a body like yours—you’ve got the proportions of a Greek God!” Clark cleared his throat. “So…” Noah laughed. “So this is going to be a breeze.”

They started with bench press.

“This is probably going to be light for you,” Noah said as he added a 45-pound plate to each end of the bar. “You’re plenty big but there’s a bit of technique to it.”

Noah showed Clark how, then Clark slid onto the bench and under the bar. The feel of the cold steel in his hands was invigorating.

Two days ago I could have twisted this like a pretzel, Clark thought. I wonder how I will do now that I’m human?

Clark easily lifted the bar off the stanchions and started cranking out reps, one after the other, in perfect form. Noah nodded when he saw that Clark was doing it right, then glanced down at Clark’s stats sheet again. When he looked up…

“How am I doing?” Clark said, still effortlessly churning out reps. “Good, good, I think that’s enough!” Noah said. “How many was that?” Clark squinted and thought. “About 30 when I asked how am I doing and maybe 4-5 after that?”

Noah whistled. He added two more plates to the bar. “You may want a lift off…” Noah began. Clark, without pausing, grabbed the bar and started churning out reps again. When he got to 20, Noah cleared his throat. “Okay, okay, I got it, light weight baby,” he said. He added two more plates.

Again, Clark grabbed the bar and lifted it off with no assistance. Again, he pumped out the first 4-5 reps effortlessly, then he began to slow down. He did another 5 with medium effort, then really worked to get out the last 5. Noah was frowning.

“What’s the matter?” Clark asked, alarmed. “I’m not doing it right?”

Noah glared at him. “You told me you’d never touched a weight,” he accused. Clark was mortified. “And I haven’t,” Clark said. “Why would I lie?” Noah just shook his head. “All I know is you just benched 315 pounds for 15 reps,” Noah said. “That’s not a beginner’s lift, even for a big guy like you.”

Clark settled back down on the bench. “Add two more plates,” he said. Noah’s eyebrows went up. “Are you sure?” Clark snorted. “No, hell, I’m not sure. I don’t have a frickin’ clue. Only one way to find out.” Noah complied. “I think I’ll need an assist,” Clark said.

It was an effort but Clark managed six more reps. When he sat up he looked like he’d just run a marathon. Noah looked like he’d been hit with a pole-axe. “That was 405 pounds,” he pointed out.

Clark shrugged his broad shoulders—and damn if they didn’t look broader than when they walked in the gym. His pump was fierce. “Uh, are there smaller plates?” Clark asked. “I don’t think I can take two more of these big guys, they’re how much, 35 pounds each?” Noah rolled his eyes. “They’re 45 pounds each, doofus,” he said. “Let’s add a couple of 25’s.”

Clark nodded his approval, then slid back under the bar. “I’m gonna hold my hands around the bar like so,” Noah told him. “We’ll pause, then take it down to your chest, then push up and lock out, okay?” Clark nodded. “Got it.” And a one and a two and a three…

BOOM!

The bar went up, the bar went down.

ROAR!

Clark bellowed like a wounded buffalo as he drove the weight back up, then let it crash down on the stanchions again.

“Ooh fucking rah!” Noah said. Clark sat up and leaned forward, resting his engorged forearms on his totally smooth quads. “I, uh, I think I’m gonna be…”

BLORF

“Oh, crap, honey,” Noah said. “I should have warned you.” Clark sat upright again and woozily looked around the gym. “Clean up on Aisle 13!” Noah called out, while he wiped the sweat off Clark’s face.

Clark looked up at his hero.

“Boss,” he said. “Did I do okay?”

Noah pinched Clark’s perky nipple.

“Boy, you just benched 455 pounds—5 pounds more than twice your bodyweight—on your first ever trip to the gym,” Noah said. “You were fucking phenomenal!”

Clark smiled.

This is a lot more fun than saving the planet, he thought.

Noah put Clark through the paces with dead lift and squat, too, with similar results! Clark’s 1RM (“One rep maximum,” Noah told him) for the deadlift was 500 pounds; his squat 1RM, 675 pounds. “Shit, boy,” Noah said, when they were done. “Nobody squats three times their body weight on their first visit to the gym.”

Clark smiled.

“I guess I do, huh?”

Noah couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled Clark into his arms and began kissing him passionately. Everyone stopped and stared. You could have head a pin drop. “Awww, hell, no,” Lois Lane said, watching from the elliptical machine where she was doing her daily cardio work out. She turned off the machine and headed over to the two big brutes.

“Excuse me!” she bellowed. “Hello!”

Clark came up for air, his glasses askew.

“Uh, Lois,” he said, looking down at the petite brunette. “What are you doing here?”

She snorted. “I could ask you the same thing, Lover Boy,” she said. “The fact is, I’ve been training here for years. Where have you been?” Her tirade lasted a good five minutes and covered everything from missed telephone calls, unanswered pages and e-mails, to fairly ripe speculation regarding just what Clark and Noah had been up to.

“Uh, Lois,” Clark said, finally getting a word in edgewise. “I’d like you to meet Noah. Noah, my colleague, Lois Lane. Lois, Noah Steere.”

Lois stood there arms akimbo, her tiny wrists on her shapely hips. At 5’4” tall, she had to tilt her head back to take in all of Noah.

“So this is the big oaf, huh?”

Clark glared at her.

“No, Lois, he is NOT the big oaf,” he replied. “This is my partner.”

The expression on Lois’ face said it all:

He’s still a big oaf as far as I’m concerned!

“Miss Lane,” Noah said, reaching out to shake her dainty hand with both of his giant paws. “It is such a pleasure to meet you. I have been a fan of your work for a long, long time!”

Lois brightened. “Hmm,” Lois said. “Maybe you’re not such an oaf after all. Perhaps your questionable taste in boyfriends doesn’t extend to all areas of your life.” Noah quickly pointed out that he had been “absolutely mesmerized” by Lois’ last adventure with Superman, earlier in the summer.

“It must be amazing to be friends with him,” Noah gushed.

Lois smiled. “Oh, yes,” Lois said. “He’s quite a guy. But, then, so are you! I daresay you’d almost give him a run for the money in the brawn department.” Clark spluttered. “Lois, you’re not using your eyes,” Clark protested. “Noah is just plain huge compared to Superman.”

Lois glanced at Clark, then glanced at Noah.

“I guess it turns out I’m not the only one at the Daily Planet who has a thing for big guys,” she observed, her catty remark causing Clark to blush profusely. “Well, look at that,” Lois continued. “I guess you’re not such a Sunday school kid after all, huh?” And with that she stormed off to the ladies’ locker room. By that time people had resumed what they were doing before Clark and Noah had begun macking on each other. Now they carefully avoided looking directly at the two big men.

Noah wiped his brow.

“Jeezus,” he said. “I could use a drink!”

Clark sighed.

“Ya know,” he replied. “For once in my life I think I could, too!”


They fucked like bunnies once they got home. Noah was amazed at how easily Clark could take his thick 10 inches. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked.

I gotta get over this blushing thing, Clark thought. “Uh, actually, to tell you the truth, I’ve never done it,” he finally fessed up. Noah stopped in mid-fuck, his big dick throbbing against Clark’s pulsating prostate. “Never been fucked?” Noah asked. “Really?” Clark shook his head. “Never had sex, period,” he replied. “Never. Not with anyone. You’re the first.” Just hearing those words caused Noah to unload in Clark’s ass, the resulting spasms pushing Clark over the edge.

“You’re amazing,” Noah said. “I always wondered what it would be like to fuck Superman.” Clark tensed. Does he know…? “But I can tell you this,” Noah continued. “He can’t possibly be as hot and sexy as you are!” Clark laughed. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “But I can tell you this: I am not Superman!” Not anymore, he added to himself.

For the next few months, gym and fucking defined Clark’s and Noah’s lives. Noah canceled all his engagements, promising his sponsors that he was going to be doing some intense training and that he’d be back “bigger and better than ever.” And if I’m lucky, he added to himself, with a promising new sidekick!

Clark did exactly what Noah did. He ate when Noah ate, slept when Noah slept, trained when Noah trained. He wasn’t remotely in Noah’s league in terms of size or strength but he was ferociously focused and on task. Clark also pissed when Noah pissed and crapped when Noah crapped. All those nutrients formerly instantaneously metabolized by his body were now being processed, turned into muscle and excreta.

His gains were staggering. In the first month of training Clark put on 30 pounds of solid muscle. At 6’4 and 255 pounds of ripped muscle, Clark looked ready to compete on the national level and his strength gains were equally impressive. Noah put it down to freaky genetics and beginner’s luck but the growth had only just started. In the second month, Clark put on 35 pounds more muscle. Weighing in at 290 pounds, he was 65 pounds heavier than when Noah took him to the gym the first time and the results were reflected by the tape measure:

Chest: 60 inches (+ 9 inches!)
Biceps: 24½ inches (+ 5 inches!)
Waist: 32 inches (+ 1 inch.)
Quads: 33 inches.

Same with neck and calves and forearms. Plus Clark’s bench had gone from a very impressive 455 pounds to a staggering 715 pounds, a gain of 20 pounds per week for eight weeks in a row!

Surely he can’t keep this up, Noah thought to himself. Noah was mistaken. By the end of the third month, Clark had packed on 45 pounds of premium muscle. He was gaining at least 1.5 pounds of muscle per day and he did not appear to be slowing down. And even though Noah had been gaining a highly respectable 5 pounds per month, Clark was only 30 pounds behind him:

Weight: 335 pounds
Chest: 67 inches.
Biceps: 27 inches (just an inch smaller than Noah’s!)
Waist: 33 inches.
Quads: 36 inches.

The day Noah took those stats Clark benched 1050 pounds for a single rep. It was more than three times Clark’s body weight and exactly the same amount Noah was benching when they first met (only Clark was 15 pounds lighter than Noah had been.) Noah’s bench was up to a solid 1100 pounds but…

“You’ve caught up with me,” Noah said, shaking his head in wonder. “What do you mean?” Clark said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with an arm that would put most speed skater’s quads to shame. “I mean, Clark,” Noah continued patiently. “That for all practical purposes we’re the same size. I outweigh you by 30 pounds but I’m two inches taller. Proportionally speaking, you’ve caught up.”

Clark just blinked, his eyes relaying his incomprehension. Noah put his big hands on Clark’s now 747-wide shoulders and turned him to the mirror. “Look, dammit,” he said, standing side-by-side with his lover, and began to pose, motioning Clark to match his movements. Clark’s eyes grew big. “Damn,” he said. “I’m huge!”

Noah grinned.

“You’re not huge, Clark,” Noah said. “You’re fucking huge!”

That night Noah fucked Clark good and hard, then rolled over.

“It’s your turn, Big Man,” he said, his thick hand lubing up Clark’s monster cock.

“Uh, I dunno,” Clark said.

Noah grinned up at his huge lover.

“I know, I know, you’ve never done this before,” he said, nailing Clark’s intonation perfectly. “But I’ll tell you something else,” Noah added. “I’ve never had a dick up my ass. I never found a man who I thought was worthy. I always thought, ‘Someday there will be a guy who is as big or bigger than I am, then I’ll do it!’ But I never found one.” Clark’s 14-inch pole was dripping and throbbing in anticipation. “Until I met you, that is,” Noah said. “And I would have done it three months ago, I was that impressed with you. But I figured you ought to know what it was like before you plowed my field.”

Clark was panting like a race horse.

“Do it, Clark,” Noah said.

“Do your daddy.”

Clark’s fucking Noah seemed to jump start growth for both men (as if Clark’s needed any assistance!) By the end of the 4th month of working out together, Noah was up to 380 pounds, a gain of 15 pounds of solid muscle.

“This is totally amazing,” Noah said, looking at himself in the mirror at the gym. “I’ve never been this big before and I’ve never grown this fast before. What the hell is going on?” Clark grinned. “I guess I must be feeding you right, Big Man,” he said. Noah laughed. “That’s for damn sure,” he agreed. “And not just in the food department either!” As for Clark…

He weighed in at 385 pounds, 5 pounds more than Noah, a gain of 50 pounds in one month.

“You’re a freak, Clark,” Noah said. “That’s all there is to it.” Clark didn’t know whether to grin or frown. “Ya better smile when you say that, Mister,” he said in mock seriousness. Noah chuckled. “Or what?” he asked. “Are you gonna fuck me up? In which case, be my guest!”

They were working out alone now, the gym management having exiled them to after-hours work outs only: once they were both repping over 1,000 pounds on bench press, they couldn’t work out without an audience, so just as well. The increased focus resulted in even more amazing strength gains, with Noah benching 1500 pounds for 1 rep and Clark closing in on 2000 pounds.

“It’s a good thing, Clark,” Noah continued. “I like being a freak and I love having a freak boyfriend.” It occurred to Clark that perhaps something was going on, something that had to do with the Purple Heart on the mantle in their bedroom. And then, like a machine, he went back to bulldozing the weights into submission.

The following month Noah was up to 400 pounds. “I don’t freakin’ believe it,” Noah said. “There’s never been a pro bodybuilder as huge as I am.” Clark chuckled. “Well…” “You don’t count,” Noah said. “You’re not a competitor.” And perhaps just as well, Noah added to himself. At 6’4 and 440 pounds of mountainous muscle, Clark was just plain scary. His chest was pushing 90 inches, his biceps were close to 35 inches, and he was benching 2200 pounds for reps.

Good thing I seem to be catching up, Noah thought. In addition to an extra 20 pounds of muscle, the latest month had brought an explosive increase in strength, so that Noah was benching around 1700 pounds for reps. Ditto, his 1RM was up to a cool 2000 pounds.


Meanwhile, Lex Luthor had seen several lucrative deals come to fruition, each one of them noted, with a growing sense of outrage, by the Daily Planet:

Lex Buys Nuclear Power Plants

Lexpac Formed: Lex to run?

Lex Called "Strong Candidate" for Mayor

The ongoing absence of Superman received an equally shrill response.

Whither Superman? had given way to…

Where the Hell Is He?

Earth to Superman: Get Your Keister Down Here

And worst of all…

Hero Goes AWOL

Lois was not happy. No visits from Superman, not a peep out of Clark’s love nest with Noah. She was working twice as hard and getting half the results. Plus that insufferable little Jimmy Olson was yapping at her heels, having seized on Perry White’s suggestion that he fill in for Clark during the latter’s absence.

Jimmy, of course, was thrilled, although he missed hanging with the Super dude. On the other hand, he was getting to hang with Clark and Noah and either one of them made Superman look anorexic. The two of them, together, well, let’s just say that thanks to Clark’s coming out story he now had a good grip on his own sexual orientation.


Another month passed. Noah gained a pound of muscle per day. At the end of the month he weigh 430 pounds.

“Aside from you,” Noah said. “I’m far and away the strongest man who ever lived.” Noah had just achieved his latest personal best, bench pressing 2580 pounds, six times his own weight. Clark looked down at Noah and wrapped his mighty hands around the extra reinforced bar (100 pounds) and the dozen 100-pound plates on either end. Slowly, carefully, he lifted the bar off the stanchions and curled it for a single rep. “Show off,” Noah snorted. Clark was now 500 pounds of solid muscle. His chest measurement was 100 inches, his biceps were 40 inches. He could bench 2 tons (4000 pounds) for 1 rep.

“Noah,” he said to his hunky, huge lover. “There’s something we need to talk about…”

KRRRAAAASSHHH!!

Clark and Noah leaped up in dismay as they watched an M-1 tank barrel through the wall of the gym. It screeched to a halt and a hatch popped open.

“Kent,” Lex Luthor bellowed, as he stuck his head up from the tank’s innards. “There’s something we need to talk about!”

“Kent,” Lex Luthor bellowed, as he stuck his head up from the tank’s innards. “There’s something we need to talk about!”

Before Clark could answer, Lois Lane, wearing spandex, and Perry White, clad in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, sneakers and a very 80s headband, clambered over the rubble left by Lex’s M1 Abrams.

“Clark, goddammit,” Lois and Perry said in unison. “We need to talk.” Clark opened his mouth, only to have it fall completely open when Jimmy Olson and Julio, the cute busboy from Mo’s, stepped out of the men’s steam room, wearing only towels. “Awww right!” Jimmy yelped. “The gang’s all here!”

Noah just gawped.

“What have you done with Superman?” Lex, Lois, Perry, Jimmy, and Julio all said at the same time. Clark gulped.

“Babe, why the hell are they asking you?” Noah asked.

Clark held up his finger in a just a moment gesture, then bounded over to Lex’s M1. Casually, he grasped the barrel of the tank’s 105mm gun with one hand—and bent it into a pretzel.

The room erupted, Lex’s foghorn voice cutting out all the rest.

“I knew it,” he yelled. “Knew it, knew it, knew it!”

Lois threw at brick at Lex’s bullet dome head but Clark, faster than a speeding brick, snagged it and casually ground it to dust.

“Knew what, Mr. Alopecia?” Lois demanded.

“Knew what?” Perry echoed.

“He’s right, I’m sure,” Jimmy chimed in.

Judging by the way Julio’s eyes were bulging out, it seemed clear he was incapable of speech.

“Damn, babe,” Noah said, “I knew you were strong but I didn’t think…” Clark interrupted. “Noah, come here fast,” Clark said. In an eye blink Noah was standing with him on the tank. “Whoaaa,” they all said, everyone but Clark.

Clark pointed to the gun barrel, armored with a composite, depleted-uranium material. “Unbend it,” he told Noah. Noah looked at Clark in disbelief but gave it a try. In no time the barrel was straight again, albeit rather lumpy.

“Holy shit,” Lex said. “Two of you!”

Perry was trying to catch up. “So are you trying to say that…” Jimmy chimed in. “Mr. White, meet Superman, also known as Clark Kent.” Lois fainted. Fortunately, Julio was standing nearby and caught her in mid-swoon. Of course, that dislodged his towel.

“Shit, boy,” Clark said. “That’s one helluva piece of meat!”

Jimmy beamed.

“You got that right,” Jimmy said. “And he knows how to use it.”

Perry looked around.

“Christ, it’s a fucking fairy convention here,” he exclaimed, then added. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

When Lois fell, Lex leaped from the tank. Gently, he took her in his arms and cradled her while she came to.

“Uh, oh, wha…” She sounded woozy. “Lex, is that you?”

Lex let out a strangled sob.

“Oh, Lois,” he said. “You gave me such a fright.”

Clark spared his big lover a glance. The expression on Noah’s face, was, well, indescribable.

“Okay,” Clark said. “If the dramatics are over, I will tell you the story.”

They turned as one as the giant man sat on the front of the tank, one hand resting on his tremendous quad, the other on Noah’s massive shoulder. He told them the story of Superman, from his birth on Krypton, his arrival as an infant on Earth, his childhood with John and Martha Kent, his public infatuation with Lana Lang and then Lois, his secret (even to himself) crush on Tom Welling.

“And you know the rest,” Clark finished. “Noah came into my life and…”

Lex interrupted at that point. “You lost your powers,” he declared. “Or at least pretended to. Or lost them and then…” Lois interrupted Lex. “Regained them?” she asked. “But I don’t understand, Clark. You and Superman look nothing alike!”

Clark’s mouth twitched.

“Uh, Jimmy,” he said. “You know where to find it, right?”

Jimmy smirked.

“I took the liberty, Clark,” Jimmy said. “I have it right here.”

He handed Clark the blue, red and yellow outfit and the matching red cape.

“I’m not sure it will fit,” Clark said. “I’m more than twice the size I was previously.”

But it did fit, it fit just fine.

“Oh,” Lois said. “It is you. You don’t look anything like Clark.”

Clark peeled out of it and threw it to Noah.

“Here, Big Man, you try it on.”

Eyes wide, as if he were approaching some sacred mystery, Noah took the suit in his hands…only to have it snatched away by Lex, who quickly stripped and put it on.

“Now I’m Superman!” he bellowed. “UP, up, and away!”

Lex jumped from the tank—and promptly crashed to ground.

“How interesting,” White said. “He looks just like Superman. But he’s still the same size as Lex.”

Julio observed:

“No super powers either!”

Comprehension flashed across Jimmy’s face. “D’oh,” he said. “Why didn’t I think of that? It’s the suit. It makes you see what you think Superman ought to look like, right?” Clark patted his young friend on the shoulder. “Right again, Jimmy.” Lois shook her head. “I still don’t understand,” she complained. “Neither do I,” Noah added.

Clark told them about the purple kryptonite. “At first,” he said, “I thought it was like gold kryptonite, which permanently takes your powers away.” Noah frowned; it certainly hadn’t done anything to his powers! “But I was wrong about that,” Clark continued. “It does something entirely different.”

They looked at him.

“Well?”

“Well?”

“Well?”

Clark wrapped Noah in his gigantic arms; their boners were plain for all to see. Perry, Lois and Lex looked away; Jimmy and Julio tried not to drool.

“Purple kryptonite apparently gives what you’ve always wanted,” Clark said. “How, I don’t know. But in retrospect it’s clear because what I always wanted…”

Well, there were a few things, he continued:

To be fully human;

To lead an open, honest life, with no secret identity;

To have a lover who could be his equal in every measure.

“You’re a wonderful woman, Lois,” Clark said. “I love you a lot. But you know we could never have had a physical relationship when I was Superman, right?” Lois nodded. She’d read Larry Niven’s speculative thesis. “But I thought…”

“You are my girlfriend,” Clark added. “In the best sense of the word.” Lois rolled her eyes. “Great! I’m a fag hag!” she turned and buried her face in Lex’s broad shoulders.

“But what about me?” Noah said. Clark kissed him. “You are what I always wanted,” Clark said. “A man who could be my equal.”

Julio raised his hand, as if he were in class. “But what about the fully human part?”

Clark winked at him.

“It’s true,” Clark said. “I am truly human now. I eat and I drink, I crap and I piss. I build muscle and I grow.”

Lex cleared his throat. “And the super powers?”

Clark jumped to the floor. He bent down and put his big thick hand under the tread of the Abrams. Gently, easily, he lifted the tank into the air, then shifted all its weight to one hand, and then to one finger.

“The M1,” Jimmy pointed out, helpfully. “Is the heaviest tank in service, weighing in at right around 68 short tons.”

Julio added.

“That’s 136,000 pounds.”

Lex’s eyes bulged out.

“They weren’t gone,” Clark said. “Just on hold. Babe, hold this for me…?” He tossed the tank to Noah, who caught it like it was an air-filled beach ball. “But how…?”

Clark smiled.

“We don’t need to go into that here,” he pointed out. “Remember what we did after I benched 1050 pounds for the first time?” Noah blushed. “I’m unlikely to ever forget that day!”

Jimmy and Julio giggled.

Perry lit his nasty cigar.

Lois was feeling up Lex’s well-developed pecs.

“It’s a helluva world,” Perry allowed.

“You guys rock,” Jimmy and Julio said.

“Why, Lex, is that a rocket in your pocket or are you happy to see me,” Lois cooed.

“Now what?” Lex asked.

What indeed?

A year later…

“Do you, Clark, take Noah…”

“Do you, Julio, take Jimmy…”

Perry White turned out to be not the best possible best man for Clark’s and Noah’s and Jimmy’s and Julio’s double wedding at Metropolis City Hall. He blubbered constantly, so much so that Mayor Lex Luthor, who was doing a bang up job of officiating, had to pause from time to time and glare at him. At last, though, it was over, and the two couples kissed.

“Hmmf,” muttered Lois Luthor, first lady of Metropolis. “We had a civilized wedding!”

It was hard to know whether Lois was complaining about Perry’s waterworks or the couples’ wedding ensembles. She was seriously afraid after the wedding photos were posted in the Daily Planet that tights and capes would become de rigeur for husbands-to-be. Well, and codpieces, too, she told herself, once again thanking the Powers That Be that Lex was perfectly comfortable wearing a tuxedo, even if it had been all white.

She couldn’t complain about the color choices, though. The boys had done a good job of mixing it up. Clark’s bodysuit was purple with gold lettering / outlining and a gold cape; Noah’s was the reverse, with a gold bodysuit and a purple cape. Jimmy and Julio were similarly clad, only green and silver.

“It’s like frickin’ Mardi Gras,” Lois opined.

On the other hand, at least you could tell who was who; unlike Superman’s old suit, Clark and Noah looked just the same out of their suits as in them.

“Fucking huge,” said Silvia, the cute Latina who had taken Jimmy’s position as cub photographer. “I’m having trouble fitting them in the viewfinder!”

True enough, Lois thought. And not just down there!

In the previous year, Clark and Noah had each continued to grow. Clark was now 6’9, Noah was closing in on 7 ft. And they’d each added a couple hundred pounds of muscle, too.

Jimmy and Julio look like munchkins next to them, Lois thought. Very well-hung munchkins but that’s a different story—it’s ridiculous!

The grooms kissed one another, the music swelled, and Lois led the procession to the Great Hall where Silvia’s Aunt Mo had put on a fabulous spread. It seemed that all of Smallville and Massington were present, those two dopey burgs, and half of Metropolis.

“Super Clark, Super Clark!”

That was Trish Trugottis, the bleached blonde reporter from Channel 4.

“Super Steele, Super Steele!”

That was Mark Murman, the bleached blond anchorman from Channel 5.

“Thank God I’m out of that business,” Lois muttered.

Clark reached down and rested his giant hand on Lois’ tiny shoulder.

“You don’t miss it just a little bit?” he asked with a smile in his voice.

Lois pointed to her bulging tummy—she was six months along.

“I’ve got better things to worry about now,” she pointed out, then added. “Besides, being a Mayor’s wife rocks! The only thing better than speaking truth to power is having the *&^%$#@ power.” Noah tsked, tsked. “Language!” he said. “Baby needs to learn how to go potty before learning how to be a potty mouth!” Jimmy and Julio laughed. “You can take the momma out of the newsroom,” Julio opined. “But you can’t take the newsroom out of the momma,” Jimmy added.

Lex, entering the Great Hall from the Mayor’s chambers, walked past all of the well wishes, glad-handers, office seekers, and hangers on directly to his wife. “Are you sure you should be standing, dear heart?” he asked solicitously. Lois rolled her eyes, then kissed her husband full on the mouth. When the lip-lock ended, there was a slightly dazed expression on Lex’s face. “Hunny bunch,” Lois said, ignoring the fact that Clark, Noah, Julio, and Jimmy were all cracking up. “I need to stand up. Sitting down makes my ankles swell.”

Perry joined the wedding party, still dabbing his eyes.

“I’m so happy,” he said, for the 1000th time. “My boys are all grown up!”

Lois snorted.

“If they grow any more, they’re not going to fit in here!”

As if on cue, Clark turned to Noah.

“I think we should fly,” he said.

Noah grinned.

“Ready for your honeymoon, Mister?”

Clark blushed. There was something kinda scary about a 700-pound mountain of muscle blushing, especially since it usually prompted a tsunami like motion in his jock strap.

“Oh great,” Lois said. “The anaconda awakens.”

Jimmy, clearing his throat, changed the subject. “Now will you tell us where you’re going? We really could have gotten a great deal if all four of us had booked that cruise together!” The two giant men looked down at Jimmy and Julio, their best buds. “We’ll bring back pictures,” Clark said. “We promise,” Noah added.

Lois girded her loins. “Okay, then, boys,” she said. “Give me a kiss, you big oafs.” The two reached down and gave her a sweet smooch on each cheek. “Now get the hell out of here before I hafta borrow Perry’s hanky,” she said.

Ewww, they all thought.

Noah looked at Clark, Clark looked at Noah.

“Up, up and away!”

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