End: Bigger

The pierced cock slid home. Lois Lane yelped—not because of the size, but because of the cold metal that brushed hard against her g-spot. Her young lover stared at her feverishly, the hands gripped the reporter's hips like a drowning woman a floatation device in a storm. The reporter was shocked...momentarily speechless as the transwoman bucked her hips with frantic need...and, strangely, turned on.

"How big?" Lois asked.

"Huge!" The transgirl said, her already double-d titties flopping about. "Just...fucking massive! J-cups! M-cups! As big as you can make me. I've always...I always wanted...to be...like one of those anime girls, the futanari with their perfect womanly bodies and utterly impossible tits and dicks, and..."

Her face scrunched up. The hazel eyes grew watery. Lois thought she was about to cry.

"I'll do anything...I'll...I'll be your ****! Please!"

Lois Lane considered her answer...and as she considered, the young transwoman continued to plunge her cock in and out of the reporter at a steady pace. It had been a long time since Lois had a real live dick inside of her...unprotected at that...and the way the Prince Albert piercing scraped along her inner walls sent a shiver down her spine. Lois knew, intellectually, that this was insane...that she shouldn't be having sex in public like this, with someone she had just met, who was asking her for some ridiculous tits...

But she is yours! The voice inside of Lois Lane's head said. You can feel the power rise again. Young and fresh and comely...and are not the breasts you have given her beautiful? Did it not turn you on, to feel her body shaped to your will? Why not answer her dream? What harm is there, when she asks for it herself?

It was like the devil on the reporter's shoulder, urging her on...and something inside Lois Lane decided she wanted to see what would happen. Curiosity had always been the reporter's weakness. It was what had set her off on her night out, looking for those missing women. What had sent her downstairs, and finally to trying that spell out of that book. Now here she was, a small-dicked, big-breasted transgirl begging Lois to turn her into some kind of titty monster...

...and Lois Lane was down for it.

"Okay," the reporter said. "We'll try. What's your name?"

"Rose," the young goth said.

"Well, Rose," Lois reached up and sank her hands into the soft, sensitive DD breasts. "If you want really big tits, I need to be on the cusp of cumming hard. So you need to fuck me really...really good. Okay? Not just pumping. Find my g-spot and smash it. I'll help you..."

She did, too. Her legs rose and ankles crossed behind Rose's back, so the flex of her thighs could help control the pace. With one hand to maul the transgirl's tits, the reporter's other hand was free to play with her own clit, which she rubbed in small circles, tugged at the ring that now pierced the clitoral hood. The reporter could hardly remember adding that little detail when she had reshaped her pussy earlier, but it was there now, and the bare metal felt as good against her clit as Rose's cock-piercing felt good as it rubbed against her from within.

They moved together, learned about each other's bodies...and Lois Lane could feel what she now thought of her "reservoir" slowly fill. Her body responded as the desire increased, more sensitive now after last time...her pierced pussy was a sloppy mess that seemed to swallow the small, stiff cock of the transgirl, her own breasts were smaller than the fat titties that heaved above her, the double-d's especially massive on Rose's thin frame. The transgirl fucked her with a determination born of something more than just lust, and having already cum so hard earlier her stamina let her plunge away at the reporter as Lois played with those funbags, fascinated at how they could stretch, how sensitive the nipples were, the sounds that Rose made when she pinched and pulled them...

...but even a young transwoman on HRT has her limits. Lois could see the mascara run down her cheeks in black streaks as Rose perspired freely, her hips started to jitter, off-rhythm, the fucking more frantic, the cock softened a little as it did for a lot of men before they were about to cum...

"A little longer!" Lois hissed as she felt the heat rise inside of her. She slapped the tits in front of her, and the pain drew a bit of steel back into that little dick. "Hold it, Rose! Hold it! Don't cum yet, not if you want the fat fucking milkers you want! I'm not there yet!"

Lois Lane was close...and geared up as she was, she knew it was going to be a big one. She could feel the frisson...the excitement...the thrill every time she slapped those tits and set them to sway, the red hand-marks lingered for just a moment on the pale flesh, and Rose looked like she was about to cry.

"I...I can't!" Rose yelled and pushed in as deep as little cock would allow. Her head darted downward like a wading bird and Lois felt those hot lips press against hers as tears burst from her eyes...and just like that, Lois Lane was sent over her own personal edge.

Except instead of cumming, she pushed all that accumulated power into Rose's tits.

Once, Lois Lane had spilled hot rising bread dough on her arm. She would never forget the sensation of that hot, smooth, expanding mass that left a burn on her skin that took weeks to heal. The weight of it, the solid-yet-flowing nature of the whole thing...and she felt it again, now, as something seemed to drain from the core of her being, her promised orgasm fading out the double-d teats shot through the alphabet...Lois couldn't even accurately judge their size, she could only feel the heavy mass as they spread and spread, her ankles locked behind Rose's ass as the watery spunk spurted deep inside the reporter's pierced cunny...

...and when, at last, Lois felt the last erg of desire drain out of her, and she let the young transwoman go, Rose staggered back, half-bent under the weight of her new tits.

Large breasts, of course, sagged...they could not defy gravity...but these tits were like those of a young woman, and stood out from the chest, only bowed down across Rose's ribs because of their immense weight. Lois was in awe at the sight of them...it looked as though the short, thin transwoman had tried to stuff two massive pumpkins under her shirt...except now Rose's shirt couldn't even stretch to cover her nipples. The young transwoman stood there, her flaccid, as her pierced dick dripped between her legs, and struggled to hold her new breasts.

"They're so heavy!" Rose said, as her hands found her new nipples, with the puffy areola were now bigger than her old breasts had been. "They're perfect."

Lois Lane smiled. One hand lingered between her legs, where she felt the scum ooze out of her. The reporter knew she needed to go home, to wash the semen out of the eyelet piercings in her labia before it became disgusting. In her brain, the devil on her shoulder whispered.

You should take her with you. There are other parts of her you might...improve.

A strange, unfamiliar half-smile came to Lois Lane's lips. She liked that thought.

"Rose," Lois said. "I think we should talk some more. Why don't you come back to my place?"

So they left, Rose's massive tits barely contained in Lois Lane's jacket, the reporter herself walked stiffly as the seed dripped from her cunny...and she knew that she would have to come back here, some other night, to hunt out the cult and the missing women. Not tonight, however. Tonight, Lois Lane listened to the devilish voice inside of her, with all of its wonderful suggestions...and the more she thought of what she could do to Rose, and herself, the more the desire began to grow inside of her once again.