End: To The Lab To Complete Her Transformation

The worst part was, Lois Lane was awake the whole time. Her body spasmed uncontrollably as Brainiac's nanites slowly replaced her nervous system. The drones carried her to the freight elevator, and then descended down below. The reporter's jaw hung slack, while her tongue flagellated. Her eyes rolled in different directions, but she could hear the hum of computers and generators, smell ozone and plastic. The air was warm, and there were human-sized tubes set into the wall at a slight angle. Six of them. Inside five of them, female figures floated in a clear fluid, stiff and artificial as mannequins, only their glowing eyes any evidence of life.

The sixth was empty.

With mechanical effiency, the clothes were cut from the reporter's body. Her smartphone clattered to the floor. Lois Lane's eye fell to it. It began to ring. The screen lit up. There was an incoming call from Clark Kent...

Brainiac's heel came down on it, and Lois Lane's last link to the outside world shattered.

The alien grabbed the reporter's jaw and stared into her eyes. Desperately, Lois wanted to spit into his glowing eyes. To kick and scream. To do anything. Yet her body would not respond to her commands.

"The nanites have penetrated the blood/brain barrier," Brainiac observed. "Frontal cortex is untouched, but initial control of the muscular system has been achieved. Set it down."

The twitching reporter was laid on the floor. Then...something clicked, audibly, at the base of the reporter's skull. The twitching stopped. On her own, the reporter's body rose, smooth and steady.

Except Lois Lane wasn't doing it. Wasn't in control as her body covered the small distance to the tube, which opened as she approached. The reporter tried desperately to do something, anything, as her traitorous body, puppeted by the supervillain, eased itself down into the tube...and then bent over to grab a series of odd-looking hoses, fixed to a kind of scalloped metal plate.

Lois Lane grunted softly, uncontrollably, as her fingers slid the tubes into urethra and vagina. Too-roughly, the third hose slid into her ass. The sudden penetration shocked the reporter, the brief bite of pain almost sent her into a panic...but there was nothing she could do, as she closed the scalloped shell over her crotch and settled back.

The other drones leaned over Lois to attach the other leads. Small X-shaped clamps with sharp needles in the center slid into her nipples, the cold steel bright points of pain and discomfort. The reporter's mouth opened to accept the phallic feeding tube that went down her throat. No gag reflex as it pushed past the back of her mouth, only the uncomfortable sensation of the hose as it filled her esophagus.

The worst part was the last one. Lois felt the odd, prickly sensation on her scalp, and then her raven-dark hair fell out over her bare shoulders. The tiny sharp pin-pricks as the needles pressed against the skin at the base of her skull. The slow feed of twelve tiny spikes driven into her flesh was not as nerve-wracking as when the four tiny screws were drilled into the bone of her skull, to secure it in place.

Then Lois went limp again. The drones laid her back, and the tube closed. Through the glass, she could see Brainiac, who now ignored her. The warm, thick fluid began to flood the tube. Metal and plastics would be fed into her body for the hungry nanites to replace her mortal tissues. Her original form would be reshaped to Brainiac's desires. A part of Lois Lane hoped she wouldn't still be conscious when that happened.

The hoses began to thrum as the feeds began. Lois couldn't even frown in pain as she felt something hot flood into her breasts. The skin already looked grey and plastic as they started to inflate.

The reporter finally knew that this was it. There was no one coming to save her. No last-minute rescue. No happy ending. Her curiosity had finally taken her to someplace where she shouldn't have gone, and this was the consequence. Trapped inside the tube, Lois Lane cast her mind back over the events of her night out. All the decisions she had made. The paths not taken. She wondered what might have been...but she had made her choices. Now she had to face the consequences.