End: Slap Circe With Her Tits

Lois Lane blinked, suddenly thinking clearer. Circe swayed toward her, obviously having expended a considerable amount of power in the reporter's sudden explosion of mass. Even as Lois looked, however, the sorceress was regaining her equilibrium...and the reporter realized she had only one **** moment to act.

Her whole body shrieked as Lois **** herself to her feet. The unaccustomed mass of her bosom could be felt in her entire frame. Shoulders burned, back ached, muscles along the spine tensed. With one titanic effort Lois spun...spun...childhood ballet lessons come back to her as she lifted her arms...and as the entranced sorceress grew closer...and then Lois lurched, toes twisting in the sand, and her massive mammaries were briefly airborne as they slapped into Circe's head.

It was like being hit by a pillow...but each of Lois Lane's "pillows" now weighed upwards of fifty pounds. In the space of an hour the reporter had nearly doubled her body weight, and the heavy tits hanging off her chest were heavier than medicine balls. The grossly heavy tit slammed into Circe's head and her head snapped back like it was on hinges. She crumpled to the ground...

...and just like that, Lois found she was no longer on the beach. She was in a dim, concrete-floored closet, with a bare ten-watt bulb overhead that had once been a tropical sun. Lois sighed, looked around...and found something she didn't expect attached to the wall: an old-fashioned telephone.

Of course, the reporter thought. Circe is a customer in this brothel, she had to have some way to call for room service...

Lois slumped against the wall. Her shoulders sagged, the great soft masses of her tits hanging down to her hips. She grabbed at the phone, wondering who to call...the police? The Justice League?

No, the reporter decided as she plugged in a particular emergency number, This looks like a job for Superman.

She dialed the number...and he picked up.

"Lois," his strong tenor voice came through the line. "What's up?"

"I'm...trapped in a brothel with Circe. The sorceress. I knocked her out with my breasts, which she's made enormous. Like, seriously huge. I can barely stand. I've seen full term pregnant women with smaller stomachs than my breasts right now. Also, some women have gone missing and..."

He listened. Asked pertinent questions, such as the address of the club. She could hear the woosh of air, the occasional crackle of static. His muffled voice as he talked to someone else. More wooshing. Lois leaned against the wall, legs suddenly sore. Just standing here, leaning against a bare wall felt like she was slowly being crushed to ****. Her immense tits were dragging her to the ground.

Club music. Silence.

A knock at the door.

"Lois?" Superman said. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," she said, with a grin. "But I've got to warn you, I'm not decent."

The door opened...and bless his innocent heart, his eyes were actually closed. It would have been more adorable if she didn't know he had X-ray vision, though she doubted he was using it.

"You can look, Superman," she said. "They're just breasts. Even your mother had them."

He opened his eyes...and looked into her eyes. Smiling, he carefully took off his cape. Lois lifted her arms as he set about fashioning a kind of brassiere...although it covered her nipples, it did nothing for her nakedness. That he fixed by grabbing the sheet Lois had dropped and fashioning it into a kind of toga.

"Well, I'm decent," she said. "But these are so heavy...I can't lift these. Look, I know you're a good guy but..." Lois took a deep breath. "Help me lift my tits? Please."

Which is why, when Wonder Woman stepped into the room a moment later, she found Lois Lane cradled in Superman's arms, his big hands holding up the reporter's massive wobbling, jiggling tits in their bright red fabric holster.

The Amazon raised an eyebrow. "I knew it."

Wonder Woman quickly turned to the **** Circe, and began to hog-tie her with the golden lasso. Lois leaned back against Superman...and smiled a little as her butt touched something very hard. Feeling a little naughty, she rubbed her ass against his crotch a little, just to make sure it was what she thought it was...and in response, it grew bigger.

"Not making things too hard for you, am I Superman?" she whispered.

"No more than you usually do, Lois," he said back, and his great hands gave a little squeeze.

The Flash appeared at the doorway. "I've surveyed the building. There's a lot of supervillains here. I'm going to start evacuating civilians from the club upstairs..."

"I've secured Circe," Wonder Woman said, hefting the bound, naked, and **** sorceress effortlessly onto one shoulder. "And Superman has his hands full."

The Amazon turned and looked at the Man of Steel.

"I suggest you take Miss Lane home...the rest of the League can take it from here."

She winked...and Lois felt the sudden heft as Superman floated an inch off the ground. The reporter rose to her toes...and then slid back and rested on Superman's flat feet.

"If you need me, call," he said.

Wonder Woman caught Lois Lane's eye and winked. "We won't."

They alighted on the balcony of Lois Lane's apartment. Once inside, Lois breathed, a bit relieved. After all the terrible strangeness of the night, it felt good to be home. Even with all the changes she had been through tonight.

"I'm sure soon the Amazons will convince Circe to restore you to your old form," Superman said. "And if not, we'll talk to Zatanna and Doctor Fate..."

Lois was sitting on the edge of the bed. Even with her giant red bra, her humongous tits were in her lap. The reporter reached up and undid the knot...and unfolded the cape.

Gigantomastia normally left breasts uneven, misproportioned, mismatched. Yet Circe had expanded the reporter's breasts with a single-minded goal toward perfect. Except for their massive size, they were two long, heavy torpedoes, bulging at the ends, the nipples hard in the cool night air. The reporter spread her knees, so that the tits rested on either leg.

She was wearing no underwear beneath the makeshift toga.

"I know I'm...not how you're used to seeing me," Lois said, voice soft and low. "But maybe we could...take advantage of this situation?"

He tugged at his blue collar. It was so weird to see him without a cape on. Lois Lane's arms slid under her breasts, so that she could reach down and spread her labia lewdly.

For decades, Lois Lane had done everything except throw her pussy at the Man of Steel...and as he dropped to his knees before her, and his tongue slid into her depths, the reporter felt her big, soft, warm boobs squeeze around his head...and she wondered if maybe that's what she should have done a long, long time ago.

Dawn came...and Lois, writhing on the bed, her whole body shaking, tits quaking violently, came with it.

It was the end of Lois Lane's night out...and the beginning of something more.