End: Shapeless

The tingle spread throughout the reporter's body, and she sucked harder at the soft schlong. A part of her tried to visualize herself growing arms and legs again...her old body, as it used to be. Pins and needles seemed to stab into her flesh but she felt a kind of loosening...

Gravity seemed to tug the reporter down, and she clung to the horsecock with her lips, **** for more of the mutagenic semen. Anything to save her from life as a living sex toy. Her tongue slithered deeper into that bitter-tasting piss slit, yet Lois felt herself slowly sinking.

Her lips stretched obscenely, cling to the fat black shaft. She couldn't work her jaw any more...could barely keep her head raised...and even that was failing. Muscles did not seem to obey her as she tried to shift and rock, and at last her lips fell off of the end of the horse-dick. Lois could only stare up at it forlornly from the floor, mouth gaping open.

The tingle began to fade...pain ceased...and Lois felt odd, almost weightless, as though floating. Her eyes, she could tell, were only a few inches above the floor. She was staring up at the great dark slit of the urethra, mouth open, hoping to catch any drop of jizz that might fall into her mouth. But her body...her body...

Her sense of her body was strange. She could feel herself laid out on the floor, a great irregular path. Part of herself was laying in the puddle of cum that had dripped from the cock before she had rolled over here. No sooner did she think about slurping it up than she felt a mouth—was it a mouth, or some other orifice?—press against the sticky puddle, slurping up the goo. The former reporter's body shuddered as she ingested this fallen seed.

Movement was difficult. Muscles were there, strange and unfamiliar in their proportions, but it was like trying to drag herself around by her tongue. She seemed to have no bones, her "head"—or at least, the part of her that she still thought of as her head—little more than a shapeless mass atop the rest of her form. Yet she found, by trial and error, that she could move. Strange though it was, she began to creep back and forth, a centimeter at a time.

What am I? she wondered...and then it happened.

The black shemale began to roll over in her sleep. The great horse-cock, soft as it was, began to descend toward her. As quickly as she could, the shapeless thing that was Lois Lane slithered, amoeba-like, her now-toothless mouth wide and pink, vaguely vagina-like in its shape but with the soft little tongue right in the center...and she aimed herself so that the cock slid right into the gaping orifice.

The mass of the dickgirl's body pressed against Lois, and she had the disconcerting sensation of being pressed down, excess mass distributed out to the side. She couldn't see anything, and worried for a brief moment about damage to her unprotected brain...and then that seemed to shift too, flattening out under pressure. Until Lois was little more than a squishy lump underneath the sleeping shemale.

But the cock was inside of her. It was something for Lois to focus on. Like learning to suck cock, all over again. The old familiar motions of mouth and jaw, pussy and ass were useless here. Yet in the dark, warm and safe, she found other things she could do. A kind of rippling motion, like swallowing. Rings of muscle gripping the soft shaft and stroking it into hardness. New tongues slithered into existence, playing over the hardening length. Though her ears had disappeared she did not know where, Lois could feel the press of those gigantic breasts against her epidermis, hear the beat of the shemale's heart.

There was much to learn about her new body, much to master. More than could be accomplished in a single night. Yet as Lois contemplated her new existence, she wondered if it was not without its rewards. For the cock was hard now, and she was learning so many things, her insatiable curiosity turned inward to the mysteries of her shapeless, protean body...and who knows? Perhaps in time, she would be able to retain a form like the one she had once known. To walk on two legs, to hold a lover in her arms. Yet as the warm pulse of a nocturnal emission flooded her shapeless body, tissues absorbing yet more of the mutagenic cum, Lois knew that this was the end of one story...and perhaps the beginning of another.