A Hard Spanking

There was a crystalline throne, because of course there was. Superboy's hand locked around her wrist and it was more solid and immovable than a steel manacle. He dragged Lois to the throne with utter effortlessness...and when he sat down on the crystalline seat, he bent the full-grown woman over his knee as though she was a petulant child.

She kicked and screamed, thrashed and swore as he bent her arm behind her back, to pin her chest against one thigh, the other placed against her lower abdomen. Lois twisted, ground her teeth at the pain in her shoulder as she tried to go too far, and her cheeks flushed as her naked breasts brushed his leg...but there was no way to get away from him so long as his hand was closed on her wrist.

Superboy raised his right hand. An uncharacteristic curl came to his lips, and the other women in the Kryptonian sex dungeon watched, a part of them jealous at the attention the new girl was getting, a part of them wincing in sympathy at what was about to happen. Lois Lane, who had endured sexual spanking and even enjoyed it a little, thought she could endure this...or maybe break through to Superboy with the right combination of words.

Then the hand came down, in a blur that was too fast to see.

The reporter's whole body jolted forward, even braced against his leg. Pain flared, not just in her ass, but in her entire body. It was the sudden impact of a car crash, and all the fight in the reporter evaporated in an instant at the intensity and **** of the ****. This was no playful spanking. It took a moment for Lois to remember to breathe again, to shocked to even scream.

Then the hand came down again.

He was methodical. Precise. His hand always came down on the same spot, the meatiest part of the reporter's slim ass. The crimson flush of his handprint quickly grew purple as the flesh bruised. Lois Lane's curses choked in her throat, and for a while the cold, crystalline BDSM chamber was silent except for the smack of his hand, the broken sobs of the reporter as threats stifled and turned into petulant begging...

...whispered sobs...

...and then a grim, quiet, as she lay limp in his lap. She ceased to fight, ceased to curse, let the tears leak down her face, her whole body shivering with the cold. There was nothing to gain by fighting, and she held on by ragged pride, hoping he would stop before her broke her tailbone...

...and then, to her horror, she felt something dig into her stomach. Something hard as steel. The tip of Superboy's cock.