Lois looked down at the tiny, vulnerable little sexpot. She was heart-breakingly pretty, and the sight of her tears made Lois want to hug her. Granted, what she was babbling was nonsense. This creature? Superman? Impossible.
Unaware that her unspoken opinions were subtly re-writing the former Superman, Lois looked over the girl, and thought....
"My goodness, look at this cheap, little tart. Look at her tits! They're huge! They must be fake..."
Lois helped the girl inside, then went to her refrigerator and got her a glass of juice. She turned back...
...she hadn't noticed before...just how MUCH of a tramp she was. The girls face was slathered with makeup - cheap and tartish - and her hair was sloppily styled into waves, hairsprayed and fake-looking. Naked as she was, her breasts were swollen, bloated
globes - obviously the product of surgery. She guessed that the fake, cartoonish baloons were the product of those Polypropylene string breast implants that they only used in South America these days.
As she handed the tiny girl the juice, she saw the tell tale signs of surgery. The girl accepted the juice gratefully, saying "Oh, Lois...I've had such a hard time of it..." and Lois saw that her exposed vagina - well, pussy was more like it - was shaved
and swollen into the classic Camel Toe. The large clit was pierced twice...just as she'd expected.
Still, she spoke rather well for a cheap, little slut. Lois assumed she was on her best behavior, but eventually she'd devolve into a foul-talking tramp she really was. The girl raised the glass again to her lips, which were (just as she'd expected) the
obvious products of collagen and surgery. A thickly pillowed "trout pout" heavily smeared with dark red lipstick. She left a red trace on the glass when she pulled it away...
"Thanks a fuck-load, Lois....I've hadda a fuckin' bitch of a time gettin' heah t' tells yah about whut happen t' meh. I waz...yah'know, fuckin' round wit's some Krypto-whateva, an' th' shit jus' went nuts...or somethin' likes dat. Kinda hard t' member whut
waz goin' on at th' time."
The girl seemed calmer now. More together and relaxed. She moved like an undulating sex goddess - all wiggles and jiggles obviously intended to flaunt her grossly swollen charms - and she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed that the girl was in fishneck
stockings and bright red stelletos with six-inch heels. The girl moved very naturally in them, as if she'd worn them all her life. She smiled up at her with the loyal, trusting eyes of a stupid puppy. She was obviously just a simple, stupid creature. An utter
bimbo. A vapid sex-toy.
Still, in her nodoubt drug and booze addled mind, she had some grasp of who she was. She knew that she was Lois Lane, and knew the basic Superman lore...but then again, half the population of Metropolis knew that.
The nakid girl opened the tiny red purse she carried (Lois hadn't seen it when she'd stumbled in, but assumed she'd brought it with her) and pawed through the condoms, crumpled bills and loos change, and came out wuith a pack of cigarettes and a flashy lighter.
The girl looked at the cigarette with some slight confusion, then slipped it between her fat, pouty lips and lit it. She drew deeply and exhaled a plume of smoke, obviously enjoying it...just as Lois had assumed she did. The girl probibly smoked all the time...
The tiny, cartoonish little whore sat there, smoking and streatching her shaply legs and fondling her huge breasts. She moaned and gasped, before saying in a slow, syrupy drawl "So, like I waz sayin', Lois...I'm awl fucked ova an' shit likes dat...'cause
of th' fuckin' Krypto-shit, an' I needs yah t' help me...yah gotta get mah back t' normal, Lois..." she stood, and even in her absurd heels she was shorter than Lois. The girl seemed suprised for a momant, blinked, and squeaked "I...think I'm changin' again...or
somp'in likes dat...I'm awl fuzzy upstairs...like I wazn't no good at thinkin' an' shit...I'm like, really smart...but I'm kinda tired..."
Lois looked with pity upon the tiny girl, seeing her for the first time as a person. A girl who'd made so many mistakes over and over again durring her life, and was now far too bound up in her skanky, sleazy existance to ever struggle out of the mire. She
was obviously a dirty, little whore...to the very core of her being.
The girl smiled, slipped her hands between her legs and fondled her thickly projecting pussy lips. She moaned and drew again on her cigarette, looking as natural as can be.
"I mean, I think I wanna be a guy again...but mebby I could jus' change my costume...an' bounce my titties aroun' like a whore while fightin' Brainiac an' Luthor....'cause I'm like, way hot an' shit...I...Lois, I needs yer help! I kin feels it in my head...like
it waz kickin' ova what makes me ME, an' leavin' nuttin' but...I dunno...I'm so horny an' shit..."
Lois went to the girl, and felt...some kind of tickle in her head...she reached down and tried to help her up, but accidently brushed her hand along the girls massive, right breast. The girl moaned...and for some reason, so did Lois. Lois looked again at
the girl, and...her fakeness seemed less offensive...infact, she seemed...rather pretty. She's always liked guys, but this girl...was just so tasty...
Lois helped the girl to her feet, and slipped a hand between her thighs, fingering her clit. Lois paused for a momant, then slipped two fingers inside her...and one finger into her ass. The girl moaned and squealed, and Lois kissed her. She'd always LOVED
the feel of a well-sculpted mouth. Fakeness attracted her...fake...sleazy...slutty....she'd always watched such girls and secretly WANTED to have them...taste them. Infact, hadn't she seen this little tart on the street and invited her home with her. The girl
butted out her cigarette and Lois slipped another between her lips. They exchanged looks, and the girl moaned as Lois lit the tip of her cigarette. The girl (what was her name?) smiled, and said as she hefted her two big, swollen tits "I dunno what's wrong
wit me, Lois. I waz awl scared an' shit, but now...I wanna taste yer pussy juice...an' have you suck in my big, fake tits. I waz different...but I don' member how anymore. I jus' wanna make you squeal..."
Lois smiled, her own pussy dripping with desire. She looked at the girl (Candi Kane...that was her name) and led her into her bedroom. The girl was just the sweet, slutty little vixen she'd always wanted to taste. If she could...she'd keep her around like
a silly, sexy pet...
Eime passed, and as they made love...and made love...over and over again, Lois and Candi...and each time it made her changes deeper...darker...more permanent. AS the Kryptonite ran between them, Lois started to change...and change...and change...
The next morning...
Candi wiggled and jiggled into the kitchen of her mistress Lois, working hard to make her a nice, big breakfast. She was a tiny thing, with tits like over-stuffed rubber balloons and a butt like a bumper. Her deeply tanned skin was patterned with sleazy
tattoos, and a cigarette smouldered in the corner of her wide, smiling mouth. Her makeup was thick and tarty as it always was, and her heels, fishnets and piercings all created an image of a vapid, slutty sex-object. When she was done, she sauntered into the
bedroom and whispered "Wake up, Lois. Kandi's got'cher breakfast, jus' likes she awlways does..."
Lois woke slowly and looked st the tiny girl, smiling. She reached out...and her arm was huge, thickly muscled and tanned bronze. She looked down, and saw that she was a giantess. A tall woman of sculpted muscle, like one of those big muscle women...which
sort of made sense, as she WAS a muscle woman. She sat up, and saw her face in a mirror, her solid jaw...her strong cheeks...her face, but also NOT her face. It was the face of Lois Lane, but...
Her hair was cut short...har nails were painted black...her body had many piercings, and all of it seemed normal...but also very abnormal. She accepted the tray from Candi, and ate while the girl wiggled between her legs and licked her pussy out. Lois knew
this was how she ALWAYS enjoyed her mornings, but...it also seemed wrong. She looked at her huge, powerful hands...felt her thick, muscled arms, legs and torso. Her breasts were almost invisible, seeming like somewhat fuller pecs to the casual viewer. She
rose and began her morning routine of lifting, squats and push-ups, all the time watching her perfectly cut and sculpted body. Tanned dark, tattooed and looking like a female Hercules, she smiled. That was normal enough, wasn't it? She glanced at the tiny
Candi and smiled, and Candi giggled and moaned.
Lana Lang and Jimmy Olson watched as the gigantic Lois Lane stepped into the elevator with them. At her side - led on a leash attatched to her collar - Candi Kane posed and smoked a cigarette, making eyes at them both. Lois said "Good morning, you two. I
trust you're both having a good morning?" is her deep, yet sexy voice. Candi Kane winked at Jimmy and Lana, and the two of them blushed. Lois seemed wrong, but she also seemed pretty normal. A big, tough muscle dyke who...wrote articles and column about lesbian
issues, muscle culture and the Master/Slave relationship? Why did the Daily Planet employ someone like this? Why did...wait...the Daily Pervert? Yes, they all worked at the Daily Pervert...WHY DID THEY WORK AT THE DAILY PERVERT?
The Kryptonite ran among them, and they were in the elevator so long....things made so much sense when they were done. From the elevator stepped Lois and Candi....
Jasmine Olson stalked magnificently from the car, his huge hair a sculpted red fountain of waves. His dress was tight on his perfectly feminine frame, which made sense...as Jasmine wrote stories and articles about transvestites, drag queens and the homosexual
expierence. Looking like he'd just gotten madeup by RuPaul, he swept grandly into the office, his long black cigarette held at just the right angle. With his sexy looks (the freckles were so fetching, and were his trademark) and slinky gown, he looked like
he always did.
Meanwhile, Lana Lardette waddled slowly, magesticly from the reenforced car, her wide, swollen body a perfect globe of folds, flab and seculent fat. She was nearly 700 lbs now, which suited the magizines expert of all things Feeder/Feedie, BBW and SSBBW.
Her makeup was sexy and flaunted her size, as did the tight dress she wore. Her red hair was held in an updo, to better flaunt her many chins, jowls and wqide mouth. As she lowered herself into her massive chair, and started eating and dictating her next column
to her secratary. After all, they couldn't expect her to tire herself out tapping away at her computer, could they? Insted, all her words were written down by an assistant.
Both Lana and Jasmine felt some tiny thing was wrong, but neither could really put a finger on it. Instead they continued to work at what they assumed they'd always done, and decided to puzzle it out later.
(Meanwhile)