(Why am I fixated on THIS situation?)

 

   ...before realizing her cell phone was dead.

 

   They pulled up the Daily Planet building, and the doorman rushed out to open the back door, saying "I'm so sorry, Mrs Luthor. I didn't realize you were coming by today. If I'd known, I'd have..."

   "Don't sweat it, Hank..." she said, having always been on a first name basis with the man. But...and it was itching at the back of her...that it was unfair to speak to him this way. After all, he was of the service class...and it was best that he knew his place. "...I just have to make a call. I'll be in and out."

   She walked to the door, and only realized afterwards that she was walking far faster than poor Clarabelle, who had struggled her way out of the car and was waddling after her. She thought she should slow down. After all, Clarabelle was her 'husband' in the real world. Instead, she stepped into the elevator and waited for the massive woman to catch up. As she waited...she fumed and rolled her eyes. As Clarabelle squeezed into the elevator though, she unwrapped a candy bar (had she paused at the vending machine on the way in?) and gasped out "I's sorry dat I's so big an' slow, Miz Lutha. But...I's jus' so hungry. When I usa be Supa'man, I nevah hadda worry 'bout eatin' much. But now...ah NEEDS t' eats awl de time. It lak mah belly be's a junkyard dawg whut NEEDS t' feed..."

   Lois couldn't help it. She snarled "Don't you EVER hold me up so you can stuff your fat face, Clarabelle! If you've got to gorge on sweets, than always keep your purse filled with them...but don't...you...EVER MAKE ME WAIT AGAIN!"

   Lois paused, feeling ashamed at her outburst...untill she saw Clarabelle (dammit, what was the fat womans real name? Clint...no, Clark? She was her husband! But...it was hard to imagine her beeing anything but 'Clarabelle' now.) and noticed that as she ate her candy, she was smiling. Her big, wide mouth chewed and smiled, and she said "Don' yo' be sad fo' talkin' ta me likes dat, Miz Lutha. Dat's awl dat I is now. Dat's awl Clarabelle eva was. Jus' lookn at meh. Big an' slow an' fat an' simple. I ain't dumb or nuthin', Miz Lutha. Mista Lutha, he such a wunnerful man, he didn't takes none o' mah brain, but he made meh awl simple an' loyal an' happy. I luvs doin' whuteva yo' sez, Miz Lutha. Jus' let go, an' accept it lak I dids."

   As she spoke, her sing-song voice so sweet, Lois tried to focus on...something. Hadn't Clarabelle been...important some how? Trapped in the elevator with her, Clarabelles organic truth - a staggeringly obese black woman of sideshow proportions, with the ponderous grace of a parade float - was impossible to deny. Lois tried to grasp some...elemental truth ("She's my husband!") but all she could see, hear and feel was the huge bulk of Clarabelle. She KNEW who Clarabelle had been, but...that knowledge wasn't important any more. What WAS important was what the outside world knew. To the rest of the Daily Planet, Clarabelle wasn't either 'Superman' or her own transformed husband...but was a simple, country woman from rural Kansas who'd come to the big cirty and been lucky enough to bump into Lois. She looked into Clarabelles face, and though she knew she'd been someone else before...she was now a servant, but also sort of a friend. Clarabelle...Clarabelle...

   "You were Clark, my husband. But...you're Clarabelle, now."

   The black woman nods and smiles. "Yes I is, Miz Lutha."

   "And...you wish to remain Clarabelle? Forever?"

   "I jus' wanna be yo simple servant, Miz Lutha. Dat's awl I eva' wanna be. Mista Lutha, he change de way mah brain works, an' now I jus' wanna serve..."

   "Does it have to be as a maid? I would think it would be tireing for a woman in your physical condition."

   Clarabelle paused, then said with a touch of confusion "Well...it is kinda hard t' gats aroun', an' mah joins an' back hurts at de end o' th' day. But as long as I's doin' whut yo' wants meh t' do...workin' fo yo'..."

   "Good. Do you still have all your old skills?"

   Clarabelle nodded again. "Yo' means readin', writtin' and stuff? Usin' de computa, an' awl likes dat? Yeah, I guess I does."

   Lois smiled, and the elevator door opened. Lois saw the press room...the rows of reporters, writers and editors...and felt at home. Lana Lang looked up, saw her, and smiled. "Morning boss. I didn't expect you in till later."

   Lois smirked at the subservient tone in her former rivals voice, and said "I had some things I had to do. Send my personal tailor up to my office, Miss Lang. Tell him to bring several bolts on red and blue cloth, and to be ready to work."

   An hour later, Lois was dazzled by the media empire that was hers...all hers. The Daily Planet was a national institution instead of just another paper from Metropolis, but that was just one of several hundred international newspapers controlled by LuthorCorp...compared to the 24-hour cable news network (LuthorNews), the online presence (LuthorNet), not to mention the magazines, book publishers, foundations and political action groups. She looked on her empire and felt like Rupert Murdoch.

   "How does I look, Miz Lutha?"

   Lois smiled at Clarabelle, who now wore an expertly tailored blue and red dress that simply exaggerated her size, while making her look at least semi-professional. Her hair was fluffed out into an afro, makeup had been applied to her face, sparkly gold jewelry...she looked like quite a character.

   "You look wonderful, Clarabelle. And you understand your duties?"

   The massive woman laughed happily, gushing "I's yo personal secretary an' all aroun' assistant. I works fo' yo' awl day long, an' at night I's gonna go home wit'chu an' hep' yo' dere as well. Clarabelle gonna be de bestestv assistant yo' eva did have, Miz Lutha."

   Lois smiled at the simple joy in Clarabelles face. She knew who she'd been, but it no longer mattered. She would be Clarabelle forever...and that was just fine. Still...some trace of old affection clung, and Lois stepped forward...and brushed her thumb oner Clarabelles thick, turgid nipple.

   "And?"

   Clarabelle smiled, her eyes full of loyalty and need. "An' when yo' wants meh to, I cums in an' eats yo' pussy out. Or mebbe yo' sucks on mah big titties. Or you bends mah black ass ova de desk, an' you fucks meh wit' a strap on. Whateva' yo' wants. Cause...I still luves yo, Lois. An dis fat, black bitch knows who she works fo'."

   The two women smiled - one subservient and the other dominant - and Lois gave silent thanks to her husband, Lex. She'd still find a way out of this, but she no longer had the slightest intention of being 'Lois Lane' again. And 'Clark'? He was obviously a lost cause, so she should embrace her new Clarabelle and move on with her life. After all, that's what Clarabelle was doing. Lois leaned in and kissed Clarabelle on the lips, then sent her out to sit at her desk, eat (she had several big boxes of candy, and the doughnut cart would be by soon) and answer the phones like a good secretary should.<span style="font-size: 0.8em;">