End: None of Them

"Krypto? Technically Kryptonian, but I couldn't possibly do that to that poor dog..." Lois Lane muttered to herself as she wandered the streets of Metropolis, the magic red kryptonite held beneath her immense bosom. She ignored the people that stopped and stared as she walked past, her head-sized breasts, barely contained in a borrowed white hoodie from the club's lost-and-found bin, which zipped up as far as it would go just barely contained her massive girls while leaving the reporter's midriff bare.

Lois knew she couldn't expose Superman, Supergirl, Superboy, or even Power Girl. Which left a very limited list of possible Kryptonians. Phantom Zone criminals, Kryptonians from alternate Earths, the Bottle City of Kandor...did Daxamites count? Did Bizarro? The reporter ground her teeth. There had to be a way...someone who was willing, for whom it was safe, who...

The reporter stopped dead in her tracks. She looked up, at the towering eminence of LexCorp Tower on a televised ad, playing on a billboard...and smiled to herself.

One phone call and a taxi ride later, and the enormously endowed reporter was standing before Lex Luthor himself.

"You want me to turn you into a Kryptonian?" the bald scientist said.

"I know you've done it before—grafted an overlay of Kryptonian genes on people," Lois said. "I need you to do it to me."

"If I could," Luthor said, still cagey. "What do I get out of it?"

Lois held up the red kryptonite jewel...and gave Luthor the lite version of the events of her night out.

"Magic," the scientist spat the word, his eyes fixed on the crimson jewel. "Mumbo-jumbo."

The reporter smiled. She saw the opening and took it.

"Does that mean Lex Luthor's super-science isn't good enough to fool some magic mumbo-jumbo?" she said.

This is how, without much further ado, Lois Lane found herself on a table, naked, in a white room filled with sunlamps. Her massive tits flattened out like two heavy balloons against her chest. The reporter still clutched the red kryptonite in both hands, afraid to let Lex have it just yet...and he, dressed in a full hazmat suit, was placing a needle against her arm.

"Do I have to be nude?" Lois said, feeling short of breath with the massive weight on her chest.

"Yes. The retrovirus will overwrite a few of your cells' DNA with Kryptonian DNA sequences. The new Kryptonian cells will begin to absorb the yellow solar radiation from the sunlamps, which will supercharge, if you'll forgive the term, the spread of the retrovirus in your system. Weeks of painful retroviral therapy can be accomplished in minutes...and you will be, in a genetic sense, a Kryptonian," he said with smug satisfaction.

Ever curious, Lois asked the obvious question.

"So...why haven't you done it yourself?" she said.

He pushed the needle in and depressed the plunger before answering.

"Because the odds of immediate survival are about twelve-point-five percent, and none of the experimental test subjects have lived long enough to measure long-term survival rates," Lex said menacingly.

Lois opened her mouth...and then screamed, as at the point of injection, her arm began to burn.

Time dragged on, measured by the burning pain that crept through the reporter's bodies. Beneath the blinding lights of the sun lamps, which gradually increased in intensity, the reporter writhed. The terrible virus moved along her veins, spreading out into bones, muscles, and surrounding tissues. Her screams echoed back at her throughout the chamber, her massive tits quaked and shook...and the reporter clutched the magic kryptonite in both hands, so hard the facets cut into her fingers.

It might have been minutes later, or hours. Lois wasn't sure when, exactly, the pain began to diminish. All she knew was that at some point, she could no longer feel the table beneath her back...or the weight of her massive tits. The reporter took a breath, and found she could breathe easily now, despite the weight of the head-sized boobs that wobbled and shook...and she looked around, to see that she was hovering, just an inch or two, above the table.

"It worked," she whispered to herself...and it had worked well.

Because the red kryptonite gem flashed, and a familiar electric tingle ripped through the newborn Kryptonian's entire body.

The Daily Planet's Bustiest reporter arched her back in midair...and her tits, the swollen, head-sized globes, flopped down over her face. She twisted in mid-air as Blaze's magic interacted with Lex Luthor's science...and as she flipped over so that her breasts hung downward, Lois Lane saw exactly what the red kryptonite was doing to her.

Moments before, Lois Lane's boobs had been as large as her head, in the rarified territory of porn stars with massive implants. Now...now her growing tits defied normal physics. They hung from her chest, each as large as a medicine ball, the pale tit-flesh swelling and growing, pins and needles of pain radiating through the masses of flesh as cells split, divided, and split again. Fat, muscle, skin, nerves, milk ducts and glans...Lois Lane's vision suddenly blurred and zoomed in, X-ray and microscopic vision watching the cells race through their growth cycles.

Once, Lois Lane had seen a woman carrying octuplets. The belly of the woman had looked unreal, shiny, taut, massive, the belly button standing out like the nipple on a giant's tit...and as the table collapsed beneath her, the reporter saw that each of her tits now resembled that massive belly. They stood out from her body, unnaturally perky, the nipples just barely within reach of her fingertips.

I'm the bustiest woman in the world! Lois thought to herself in awe. In all of history! I've got the biggest tits of any woman, ever!

She couldn't keep a stupid smile off her face. The reporter laughed, the pain a distant memory now. Lois bounced in midair, and her massive ta-tas danced. In a mere human, the mass of that titflesh would have torn itself free of her torso, but for a Kryptonian...the ungainly, massive tits were as invulnerable as the rest of her.

A sizzle and pop caught the reporter's attention away from her massive tits for a moment.

The red kryptonite was blackened, smoking. Lois watched in fascination as it cracked and crumbled into a dark, grayish powder, its power apparently spent.

"I did it," Lois whispered. She slid her hands under her tatas, and lifted them high...high enough to block her vision. The reporter was more breast than woman now. "I did it! I fulfilled Blaze's condition and I kept my tits!"

Her laughter filled the chamber.

"Look out world! Lois Lane is now the bustiest woman in the whole world!" she shouted.

In the monitoring room, Lex Luthor frowned as he assessed the data. The Kryptonian gene graft was holding, and appeared to be stable. More importantly, his sensors had analyzed the odd red kryptonite radiation that had emanated from the jewel Lois had been holding. He frowned as the multi-spectrum analysis showed the extradimensional components to the radiation, which was unlike any kryptonite radiation he had ever seen...but not, he thought, impossible to replicate.

Lex Luthor grinned as the reporter, high on her massive tits, bounced around the room, her massive mammaries swinging and swaying.

"Any sufficiently analyzed magic is indistinguishable from science!" he said. Already in his mind, he was beginning to design the red kryptonite projector based on this data. Lois Lane and her colossal tits was almost an afterthought; he was already imagining what would happen when he turned this new weapon on Superman...how the Man of Steel would feel when his beloved S-shield was distorted by the growing head-sized tatas his manly pecs grew into.

"Enjoy your victory while you can, Lois Lane," he whispered to himself. "Because you've given me exactly what I need to turn Superman into the Shemale of Steel!"

Yet all of that—and Blaze's response to Lois Lane's trick—are another story.