End: A Little Blonder, A Little Bustier, A Little More...Powerful

It was a world of alien heroes from outer space, of demigods from the ancient past, kings of undersea realms that walked among regular human beings. Lost peoples, hidden cities, scientific experiments gone wrong. In one lab, a scientist might inject themselves with an extract drawn from bats to gain their powers, and transform into the monstrous Man-Bat. In another, a man might rebuild the broken body of his son into the powerful Cyborg, as much man as machine.

To Lois Lane and the other inhabitants of Metropolis, the origin stories of heroes and villains seemed mythic and fantastic. Most people exposed to radiation simply got cancer, not superpowers. A veteran of the U. S. military was glad to get a prosthetic limb to replace one lost to an IED, and didn't expect it to come with super-strength. For nine hundred ninety-nine thousand and ninety-nine people out of a million, one might become something greater—or less—than human.

Everyone else was just in for a bad day.

So when Lois Lane woke up, alone, in the bed, with nothing more than a sniffle and sore breasts, she considered herself lucky to have fared no worse from her night out. Naked and achy all over as from a flu, she scratched her ass—surprised to find the plug gone, until she remembered the events of last night—and stumbled into the shower.

Hot water. Clean towels. Soft soap. When Lois Lane emerged, wet and naked, she felt alive, awake, and thoroughly more human. All she needed now was clothes and coffee, and...

There was a crunch as the towel rack broke off in her hand. The reporter blinked and stared at the bar that had come right off the wall with ridiculous ease. She mentally groaned at the added expense...but set the piece of metal on the back of the toilet and walked to the sink area, to dry her hair.

Which is when she noted the blonde roots. Barely visible. Just at the scalp. Lois Lane leaned close, her violet eyes focused hard...yet it was unmistakable. At the base of her naturally black hair was a thin line of gold.

Then she saw the same thing was starting with her eyebrows. Automatically, the reporter looked down at her carefully trimmed pussy hair...and swore out loud.

Her pubic hair had golden roots too. But in the way of seeing them was her tits.

Lois Lane had never been busty. Puberty had left her with a palmable pair of A-cups, perfect in shape, but modest in size. Sometimes, during her period, when she was bloated, Lois had to get out her 34B bras, the soft ones that lifted and separated her sore breasts. But staring down at her breasts now, Lois couldn's shake the feeling that they were larger than they had been last night. Bigger than they had ever been in her life.

That was when Maria returned. She was wearing Lois Lane's clothes from last night, and had, in one hand, a cup of coffee from Starbucks, and in the other a bag of miscellaneous clothes.

"The hotel concierge found some things in the lost and found—I told him you lost your luggage—and I've got coffee," the young woman said.

The naked reporter rushed over to her. She grabbed the coffee first, but then she asked.

"Do you notice anything about my boobs?"

Maria must have caught the tone of worry. She fixated on the reporter's rack, which brought a blush to Lois Lane's cheeks.

"Well, they look good," Maria said, and then reached forward. Lois didn't shy away as the soft hands gently squeezed the sore funbags. The reporter grimaced a little, but didn't retreat. She could feel Maria make the small circling motions that medical practitioners did when they checked for lumps. Of course, it didn't help that her stupid sensitive nipples started to swell...

"And they feel good," Maria said.

Before Lois could stop the auburn-haired young woman, she had dropped to a crouch and latched onto the reporter's left nipple. A playful tongue teased Lois as Maria gently sucked, and the reporter moaned aloud as a sudden heat flashed through her body, making her light-headed.

"And you definitely taste good," Maria said, after releasing the nipple with a wet smack.

Lois shook her head and sipped her coffee. Maybe it was her imagination, but she almost imagined a bitter, medicinal aftertaste that even the cream and sugar couldn't quite hide.

"If you're not feeling well," Maria said, "We can extend our stay. Spend the whole day in bed..."

Warm fingers slid along the reporter's labia. Even half-feverish as she was, Lois Lane knew that was probably a bad idea. She had no idea what was going on with her body...why her breasts were so swollen...why she was going blonde...but one thing she did know.

Sick as she was, Lois Lane didn't feel powerless.

With surprising strength, Lois grabbed Maria's pussy right back. One-handed, she lifted the auburn-haired young woman into the air. Maria yelped in shock, more than pain, as Lois immediately dumped the young woman on the bed.

Lois Lane sipped her coffee. Sunlight peeked in through the cracks in the curtains. An unusual warmth suffused her, and she ran her fingers through that gold-and-black pubic hair as she sipped her coffee.

"Maybe we should spend the day in bed," Lois Lane told her. "But this time, I'm on top."

Lois Lane didn't put the pieces together quite yet, though she would. It would make sense, with Lex Luthor's focus on Kryptonians, that he would try to make his own. And there was one Kryptonian that was blonde, busty, and very, very powerful...but Lois would put those pieces together later. For now, new, strange instincts and drives burned inside her brain. Her body shook as the retrovirus continued her work. Little by little, Lois Lane was changing...

She was one in a million.