Not At All

The chest heaved, but the tits did not grow.

The cock twitched, the balls tightened, but there was no sign that a pussy was imminent.

Lex Luthor's frown turned into a scowl. Veins were throbbing in his temple.

"Biometrics?" he said.

The technician stared at the screen. "Stable, sir. No red kryptonite radiation flux, body temperature and heart rate are stable. Some activity in the frontal cortex...I think she's confused."

"But why? Why isn't she changing!? It's Superman, he's...he's telling her what to be!" The villain trailed off. He bit his lower lip, powerful brain working to crack an apparently unsolvable puzzle.

At his terminal, the technician took out a 5-Hour Energy and gulped it in a swallow. His name was Greg, he was being paid enough for this, and Lex Luthor wouldn't have hired him for a secret project that involved illegal human experimentation without copious **** material anyway, so he was very willing. Yet he still knew he took his life in his hands just stating the obvious.

"Maybe the subject...doesn't see Superman the same way you do, sir? I mean, the program is calibrated to your psyche profile, after all. You can't expect this...woman...to respond the same way to Superman."

The temperature in the room did not literally decrease, but Greg felt a sudden itch at the back of his neck. Not unlike what Mary Queen of Scots felt as as lowered her head above the chopping block.

"What exactly are you implying?" Lex Luthor said quietly.

Greg licked his lips nervously. "I mean, obviously she's not a genius like you...she's never engaged with Superman as an...as an opponent. An equal. Obviously she doesn't understand him the way you do, sir. Maybe if, uh...maybe if we tweaked the scenario to...meet her tastes?"

Luthor stroked his chin.

"Hmm. Biofeedback. If we cull her social media for an initial scenario profile, we can then monitor her responses and then use that to train an AI to modify the scenario on the fly...it will take a while but if I authorize access to the main LexCorp servers we should have enough processing power...yes...yesss..."

Twenty minutes later, the internet in Metropolis slowed to a crawl as LexCorp services switched to a priority processing request. Brown-outs rolled across the outlying suburbs as LexCorp power stations re-routed the load in response to a command they could not deny.

Inside Lois Lane's virtual world, Superman stopped being a dick. His perfect jaw seemed to shudder and glitch, and then Lois Lane found herself...in an scene from her deepest, darkest wet dream.