Epilogue: Lois Lane, The Daily Planet's Ditziest Reporter

Lois Lane woke as she normally did on a Saturday morning—with a pleasant soreness between her legs. She looked over her shoulder and smiled when she recognized who was sharing her bed this morning. Cupped her pussy as she tip-toed to the bathroom, to keep from dripping cum onto the floor. Sat down on the toilet to begin her morning ablutions...and had the profound sensation that she was forgetting something.

It had been a month since that first night out, and she had at first been shocked and appalled at the blank spot in her memories from that first night...but over the ensuing weeks she had continued to explore and map the underworld of the bimbo ****. She had made contact with the Metropolis police department's narcotics squad, and they had shared info...the whole operation was small, as far as Lois could tell...but it had connections with all sorts of organized crime operations. Lois Lane's info had already lead to raids that had rolled up three separate human trafficking operations.

So she had continued to work undercover. Going to the club, buying ****, taking the ****—and then the night would largely be a blank from that point on, as conscious thought dimmed and memories became confused, rose-colored. Lois thought of it as her "bimbo time"—and it wasn't unpleasant, really. Sometimes she woke up in strange places, with strange people, but more and more recently she'd attracted a group of close friends that would look after her while she was under the influence.

They even took turns. Lois leaned back on the toilet seat, one hand lingering over her pussy. Her fingernails were much longer and pinker than they were a month ago. She didn't remember when she had decided to grow them out, but it helped with the image when she was undercover, even if it made it more difficult to type. Her editor, Perry White, had started to complain—but not too much.

She'd caught him staring at her tits more these days. Which was fair. There was more to stare at. In a month, Lois Lane had gone from a 32B to a 32D...and the reporter had woken up to find new bras in her closet, ones that fit her enhanced bosom. Nowadays when she went to the office, the reporter found herself wearing tighter shirts, ones more revealing of her cleavage...and twice last week, Lois had actually forgotten to wear a bra at all, and Perry White's eyes had almost popped out of his head to see the outline of her nipples against her shirt. That put a smile on Lois Lane's face...

The reporter found herself rubbing her clit as she thought about it. There was something she was supposed to do today...she saw a familiar circular container. Birth control pills. She popped open the top...and instead of the familiar little round tabs of hormonal birth control, there were the little pink circles of her bimbo pills.

Lois couldn't remember when she had actually taken a birth control pill last.

I'll have to remember to get some more, the reporter thought to herself...and immediately forgot as her lover of the evening walked into the room, the sight of his naked body and bare cock grabbing her attention.

"Lois," he said. "How do you feel?"

"Fine, Richard," Lois said, still rubbing her slit. Her eyes flicked down to his cock. The boys took turns taking care of her...and she, in return, helped take care of them. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. "I might need your help again. If you're up for it."

He smiled. Richard Grayson was young, fit, with the body of an athlete and a thick Gotham accent—like one of those old, old New Jersey accents, something out of a 1930s pre-Code Hollywood film or radioplay...and he had an uncircumcised cock that was seven inches long when hard. Lois couldn't remember much about her bimbo time, but she could remember that distinctly.

"It's Bruce's turn tonight," Richard said.

"Who said anything about tonight?" Lois said as she took three pills from the birth control dispenser. "I was going to have a little bimbo-time today. I think my tolerance is increasing...that could be useful for undercover operations. I just need somebody around to keep me out of trouble."

He watched her pop the pills into her mouth and dry-swallow. No effort to stop her.

"Are you sure you aren't forgetting something, Lois?" Richard asked her.

The reporter rubbed her slit with her left hand, and reached out with her right to grab his flaccid cock.

"Oh, right!" Lois said, as she waited to feel the warm flush in her breasts that signaled the **** was working. "I knew there was something else I was supposed to be doing this morning, but I'm such a ditz lately..."

She licked her lips and leaned forward as she brought her face toward his cock.

How could I forget his morning blowjob? I'll have to make it up to Dick...

Her lips were locked on his shaft, cheeks hollowed out, as her phone began to buzz. Reminders were piling up...appointments, bills to pay, deadlines for articles...but the one that might have stuck out to Lois was her period tracker app...