To Learn Control


Clark Kent’s cry of anguish reverberated against the bedroom walls, like every night for the past few weeks. And like every night, Martha and Jonathan would come into the room and try to soothe his nightmares away. When asked what he dreamed about, he’d choke out the partial truth about hurting the person he was intimate with. They assumed he meant Lana or Chloe. He never corrected that assumption, never explaining that his dreams were always about Lex. About breaking Lex, about blood and guts and the horrible look in Lex’s eyes...

"Control," Jonathan said one morning at breakfast, after a particularly bad nightmare where Lex’s feet were permanently up around his ears. "Just like with your strength and other abilities, this is simply something you have to learn to control."

"How?" Clark asked in embarrassed misery. It wasn’t as if he could practice sex without the fear of mutilating his partner. Besides, no one wanted to have sex with him anyway. Clark told his parents the same.

Jonathan had a solution.



"Um, dad," Clark stared with trepidation into the paddock, "these are sheep."

"According to the Internet, sheep vaginas are the closest physically to human vaginas," Jonathan stated authoritatively.

Clark blinked his Bambi eyes many times, turning his incredulous stare on his father. "Where did you read this? Sheepsex-dot-com?"

Jonathan shook his head. "Whipme-Bleatme-dot-com," he corrected. "There was a links page to several other Barnyard sex sites. Moogasm-dot-com doesn’t recommend having a calf suck your penis like a teat because of the calf’s teeth, but you’re invulnerable down there, too, so you might want to give it a try."

"Uh. Okay."

Jonathan clapped Clark on the shoulder. "Good luck, son. And don’t worry — if you kill the sheep, we’ll just have her for dinner."




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