End: Not Big Enough

It is difficult to judge the size of breasts by the naked eye. Cup sizes and band sizes are unintuitive, without a reference point. It is why so many people, when the time comes, resort to comparison to fruit, or balls used in sport. Some common frame of reference that gives, in some way, a hint of the volume, the heft, the shape and mass of the things.

Lex Luthor, of course, had a keen analytical eye. Lois Lane had worn a 32B bra when she had come to the club. As her pleasantly plump breasts swelled, her estimated that they had more than doubled in overall volume...the half-tearddrop shapes sagging slightly under their own weight, but still firm, the pink nipples puffier and firmly erect, even though the areolae had stretched out and were less defined than before, rising like small pink hills.

"I would say...34D," he whispered aloud to himself. He gave a smile. "Not big enough. I expect her to be at least a J-cup before we're—"

The lights died suddenly. Lex Luthor and Greg the technician immediately froze in the pitch blackness.

"Nobody panic!" Luthor announced. "The emergency generator should kick in momentarily, and—"

"Um, Mr. Luthor?" Greg said, nervously.

"What?" Luthor growled.

"We were already using the emergency generator to handle the extra load for the AI processing. If we're dark...then that's gone too."

Greg did not add that if Lex Luthor''s secret lab had blown its fuses, then it had probably taken out at least twelve city blocks of Metropolis with it. He could just about imagine he heard the noise of the club as over a hundred drunken, horny, scared people began trying to head for the exits.

"Damnation," Luthor hissed. "Alright, let's get the subject prepped for transport. It was working, all we need to do is get her to another facility and..."

A red line burned in the darkness. The lightspill illuminated the shadowed lab in its ruddy glow. A single red laser, thinner than a pencil, burned straight down from the ceiling and to the floor...which began to bubble and smoke. In the crimson shadows, Greg could see Lois Lane hang limply, with her nine-inch cock and massive balls and D-cup breasts...and then the line wavered, describing an arc.

"Sir?" Greg said. "What is...?"

Lex Luthor was already running for the exit. Greg, survival instincts kicking in, pulled himself out of his chair in a crash of coffee cups and empty energy drink cans. When a mad scientist runs, your best bet is to try and keep up.

When the burning red line had described a perfect circle, a chunk of the ceiling fell in...and Superman descended. The heat vision cut out, but he quickly floated down to where the reporter was bound on her X-shaped cross.

"Lois," he said quietly. "What have they done to you?"

There was panic in the streets. Nobody looked up at the sky. No one mistook the dark shape that floated gently above for a bird or a plane. Just Superman rescuing Lois Lane again.

"How are you feeling?"

Lois Lane opened her eyes, and blinked against the bright hospital lights. Superman was there, and an old man in a white lab coat...but he was wearing a costume underneath the labcoat, and dark goggles over his eyes. Her memory provided a name.

"Dr. Midnite," she said. Sat up, found an IV in her arm...monitors taped her her chest.

There was a lot more chest than she was used to.

Lois blinked and, not caring who else was in the room, pulled up the white sheet that preserved her modesty.

"I have tits...and a dick. I have balls!" She said.

"Testiculos habet et bene pendentes," Dr. Midnite said dryly. "Are you in any pain or discomfort?"

"I...don't think so. Great Caesar's ghost, I'm hung!" Lois shook her head in disbelief. "It's the biggest cock I've ever seen. And my balls!"

"Someone...changed your body," Superman said. "We don't know if they're permanent yet, but there hasn't been any change for the last few hours."

Lois raised her head to stare at him. "You mean...I'm stuck like this? I'm a guy? With tits?"

"In a manner of speaking," Dr. Midnite said. "I've collected DNA samples to be tested, but I suspect most of your anatomy is actually still female—only your male reproductive system is genetically male. Something like a case of chimerism. Of course, the hormonal imbalance to your system may cause additional changes over the long term—similar to taking testosterone. We'll need to monitor your condition regularly. It will be quite an adjustment," Dr. Midnite said. "And, of course, there are...surgical options."

Lois Lane nodded her head. This was a lot to take in.

Superman came and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Lois," he said with a smile. "I'll be here to help you. Count on it."

She smiled up at him...and a dirty thought ran through her mind. Between her legs, the sheet began to tent. Dr. Midnite coughed.

"Well, at least we know it's functional," the old hero said. He stood up and left them alone for a while.

"I just don't understand," Lois said, her mind going back over the bizarre events of the night. "Who would do this? Why?"

"We'll find out," Superman said. "But one thing's for certain...they didn't get what they were after. Because you're here, with me."

She reached up and squeezed his hand...and yet a part of her couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her...it had to be the same person behind the missing women...but who and why?

Finding out would be another story. Lois let her fingers stroke Superman's hand. Her erection was still tenting the sheets. She wondered if, after all she had been through, he might help her with a little...stress relief.