End: Lois Rubs Her Growing Breasts Against The Titanic Tits Pinning Her Down

Legs bound. Mouth gagged. Barely able to wriggle beneath the buxom boulders that descended from Jenny Dunlap's chest. If Lois Lane had a fetish for massive mammaries, she could have been joyfully smothered by the hot and heavy juggs, each of which now felt twice as heavy as a medicine ball. The reporter struggled to breathe beneath them...all the more so because her own breasts, once bare handfuls, had begun to swell thanks to the jizz spilling from the overflowing cunt into her own slit.

Which is what gave Lois an idea, **** as it might have been:

If you can't beat 'em—join 'em.

Beneath the ever-growing tits, Lois Lane writhed. She moaned. Sweat slicked her own breasts, which had swollen cup sizes during the course of the night. She squeezed her arms, trapping nipples that were now bigger than the reporter's thumb between her armpits. Stared up into the blonde's eyes and moaned around the gag. Did all she could to arouse, to titillate...

...and perhaps because of the desperation in Lois Lane's eyes, the real ardor in her performance, the blonde responded to it. Her tired face, flushed from hours of sex, twisted in a strange rictus. Jenny's white teeth bit her lower lip as the reporter squeezed the other woman's uncanny udders as hard as she could. Lois couldn't even tell if a customer was plowing her right now, but she could hear the little moans from Jenny Dunlap's lips...feel the quivers that shook those titanic teats like massive sacks of body-warm jelly.

Lois watched as Jenny Dunlap finally lost it. Watched the eyes roll up back inside of her head...the mouth fall open, the breastbone heave, the ars shake...and slip...and with a cry and a crash the big-titted wonder of the world collapsed, losing her grip on the bar that was all that held her upright.

Blonde hair hung limp beneath that ginormous cleavage. Lois panted, wondering if she had moved enough to escape...and then a clap came.

Women, naked save for panties, unbound the reporter's legs and dragged her out from beneath the recumbent whore. Immediately, Lois tore the gag out of her mouth...and watched the same women winching a small crane in place, the kind used to lift engine blocks in automobile shops.

"You did well," a voice came from behind her, and Lois turned to see the smiling figure of Blaze. She held a fluffy white towel in one hand, and a set of clean clothes in the other, with the reporter's wallet and smartphone on top. "Record profits. Thank you."

"You..." Lois choked back a curse. "I'm putting an end to this!"

The reporter grabbed the phone...and scowled as she saw it had run out of charge. Blaze smiled.

"Oh, I'm sure you can call your super-friends soon. They'll probably even believe you. Afer all, you're a bit bigger than when you came here tonight," Blaze playfully poked at the reporter's expanded bosom. The tits hung heavy off the reporter's chest...bigger than anything Lois had imagined, though she hesitated to guess her cup size now. E? G? They felt like a pair of ripe cantaloupes, firm and jutting out, though sagging a bit under their own weight onto her rib cage.

"By which time," Blaze said. "I'll have moved my operation. Oh, don't worry about Jenny and the others...as you can see, they like it here."

"You won't get away with this!" Lois Lane swore, but even to her ears the threat sounded empty, even if she meant ever word.

There was something almost sad in Blaze's smirk. "My dear...I already have."

She snapped her fingers.

There was a crash of thunder, so loud that it shook the sweat-stained reporter to the core. Her pussy squeezed tight, forcing second-hand sperm to squirt out between her legs in a fierce stream. Instinctively, Lois Lane's eyes clamped tight as every bone in her body rumbled, the whole world a cacophony of sound...

...and when she opened them again she stood in a dark, empty basement. Naked, cum dripping between her legs, shoulders and back beginning to ache from carrying her new tits...and Lois Lane's heart sank as she realized how utterly she had been toyed with and humiliated. The reporter toweled off as best she could, and then squeezed into her borrowed clothes, her new breasts barely fitting into a shirt far too small to contain them, so that she felt a wash of cool air on her exposed midriff and underboobs.

"This isn't over," Lois swore to herself.

Yet as the sun broke over Metropolis, and the Daily Planet's bustiest reporter made her exhausted way home, she knew that this chapter, at least, was over. Blaze had gotten the best of Lois Lane...for now.