End: Lois Lane Loses Herself In Her Amazon Transformation

As a young woman, Lois Lane had seen the footage of Wonder Woman. She had never been able to express that sentiment that filled her as she saw that tall, statuesque beauty move so easily in motion. It was like the surge of desire that filled the reporter at every track and field meet when she saw someone that was better than her. Maybe because they were born that way, maybe because they had worked harder, but they were just stronger, faster, more agile.

Wonder Woman left them all behind. The Amazon was like a primeval archetype of what a woman should be. Lois Lane had watched her and known, deep in her heart, that it didn't matter how hard she trained or for how long, there was a pinnacle that she as a mere mortal would never reach. Muscles that could tear a rifle apart with her bare hands. Long legs that ate the miles easily. Black hair streamed behind her as she dodged and deflected bullets, charged machine gun nests, ripped men from their holes and flung them about with ease.

Lois had wanted that. She still wanted that.

Perhaps that was why, in the end, she fell so easily.

As her muscles bulged and grew. Spine cracked and long bones broke, stretched, and reset. All the excess fat seemed to drip off a frame that was built at another scale than the slim, petite reporter of the Daily Planet. Her eager mouth sucked on those tangy twats with renewed fervor as Lois drew into herself the very essence of the Amazons.

Her hands clutched at muscular buttocks, her ears rejoiced to the moans of the Amazonian sluts. Lois Lane's human life seemed to fade into the background. Newspapers, journalism...what she craved now was battle, and cunts to eat. Dark wines and midnight rendezvous. The taste of blood on her teeth, the triumph of overwhelming some worthy foe.

It was a long night. There were many pussies to taste. Each one added a bit of herself to Lois Lane. Each one buried the reporter's old identity a little deeper, as her muscles swelled and body shifted. Burned away any last lingering shreds of Lois Lane's heterosexuality.

Until, come the dawn, the exhausted Amazons grinned ferociously at the statuesque beauty in their midst, soaked in pussy juice, lips spread to show her white teeth, violet eyes flashing as she licked her lips.

"Your new name, sister," the tallest of the Amazons said. "Shall be Elena...the Executioner."

The new Amazon raised her fists. Muscles bulged.

"And who shall I execute?" she asked.

"Men," the Amazon spat the word. "Weak, vain men."

"Good," Elena said.

That night out was the beginning of a new life...and the end of Lois Lane.