Epilogue: Bimbo Bodies

Lois Lane flipped the golden coin representing Blaze's tainted soul. The demon was staring cross-eyed at her mistress' clit, tongue eagerly lapping at the pussy, but the reporter was staring at her own fat tits. The mounds wobbled on top of her thin frame, unnaturally large and perfect...

...and her eyes fell down on the crimson cocktease sucking on her pussy with such single-minded abandon. Her expanded intellect was already working through the possibilities.

Why stop here...for either of us?

"Angie," Lois pulled the demon's face away from her cunt...and the lolling tongue was so long, the tip of it still tickled the reporter's pussy. "Look at your tiny titties."

The demon obediently did so. Something like disappointment flashed through those pure white eyes, that horned brown crinkled in confusion as it contemplated the flatness of its non-existent breasts.

"You're my fucktoy now, Angie. Do you understand?" Lois whispered. The demon tried to nod, but couldn't with Lois holding her hair. So the reporter let go, gently petting her new pet. "I want my fucktoy to have bigger tits than me. Make it so. Make them grow."

Black sparks surrounded the coin. Angie's hands went to her chest, the nipples looking dark and puffy....and then it wasn't just the nipples. Lois Lane stared in rapt fascination as the tits grew—not some cartoon inflation, but cells busily dividing and re-dividing, fat building on fat, skin stretching and sagging under the new weight. They were beginning to droop, like normal breasts would...

"No," Lois ordered. "Round. Hard. Big fake bimbo tits."

And the tits began to inflate, round and spherical, dark veins popping out on the surface as the internal anatomy re-arranged itself for whatever was substituting for breast implants. Lois thought of all few impossible women who had taken their bodies to the max...the Chelsea Charms and Beshines of the world, with massive, unnatural fake tits. And she petted and cooed until Angie Blaze was on all fours, and her massive, swollen tits hung like crimson medicine balls from from her chest, nipples scraping the floor.

"Stop," Lois ordered. She reached a hand down to squeeze...and it was flesh, warm, living flesh. Her hand wandered up to that face...that beautiful face. Her thumb drew back the lips, showing the sharp teeth, the long tongue...

"Puff out those lips," the reporter ordered. She could feel the coin spark in her hand, an electric tingle that seemed to run down her arm to the elbow. Blaze stared blankly forward as her lips started to fill out...not too much, Lois decided. Just enough for that bee-stung look. "Stop."

The tingle faded, and Lois sauntered around the demon, trying to decide what was next to give her the perfect bimbo look.

"Widen those hips and fill out that ass," the coin tingled in her hand. "I want that booty to clap when you walk."

Again, the strange alchemy, body building itself new tissue from some unfathomable reserve, anatomy re-arranging itself. The hips flared gently, even as the waist stayed trim and taut. The muscular glutes were lost as they rounded and sagged a little, hanging gently over the thighs.

"Stop," Lois ordered. She flipped the coin a few times, experimentally. "Roll over. Let me see your cock and balls."

Immediately, the demonic fucktoy rolled over onto her back. The tits flattened only slightly, little sag or give to the massive beanbags. The cock looked absurdly small by comparison, though the reporter knew from experience it was well above average.

Something to play with later, perhaps.

"Get up."

Angie clambered to her feet, superhuman muscles immediately adjusting for her changes in center of gravity, though there was now a defined thigh gap, her cock hanging limply, concealing her pussy. Lois Lane herself could feel her shoulders aching under the weight of her new breasts, but that was a small price to pay for such magnificence.

"Take on your human appearance." Lois knew that Blaze had to have one...and she was right. The red skin faded to an olive tan, the horns shrank and vanished, the eyes...she blinked and stared out at the world with dark eyes, almost black. A few of the harder angles in her body softened, but she was still stuck with those ridiculous fake tits, the generous callipygian ass, the cocksucker lips.

Lois ran her thumb over the coin. One last little change. The piece de la resistance.

"Your hair," she said, unable to resist a smile. "Strawberry blonde."

It started at the roots. Pale threads of gold growing backwards from the scalp, chasing the dark curly mass of hair away, until in moments her barbie fuckdoll stood there, a mass of gleaming golden curls hanging down to the middle of her back.

The reporter turned her back on Blaze as she squeezed into her tight red pants, her own posterior not quite fitting any more. the white t-shirt she brought barely covered the nipples on her tits, leaving the midriff bare and showing a great deal of underboob.

Lois smiled to herself. She had a body any man or woman would kill for...and it was just the start.

"Cover yourself. Something sexy. No underwear. Collar and a leash." She flipped the coin and caught it, feeling the familiar tingle up her arm as Blaze used her power. A simple pink tube top encompassed the breasts, a black frilly skirt that was barely long enough to pass for decent, three-inch pink heels that added to her statuesque height. Black lipstick, pink paint around the eyes...perfect.

The collar and leash were pink. Lois picked up the loop at the end.

"We're going for a walk." Lois announced.