Epilogue: Lois Lane, The Daily Planet's Greatest Lesbian

Monday morning, before work, Lois Lane stared into the mirror.

"My name is Lois Lane," she said, to begin the mantra she had worked out for herself over the weekend. "And I'm a lesbian."

The reporter had retrieved the book, and experimented with the spells. The spell of desire was still there, active, inside of her...but after many weary hours, Lois Lane had returned to look something like her old self. A little thinner, her breasts and hips a little bigger. No longer did she transform every time an attractive woman appeared within view...unless she chose to.

"I am attracted to women," she said, as she etched the lines of her face into place. Those vivid violet eyes stared back at her. The raven-dark hair. White, even teeth. "I like to eat pussy."

The key, she had found, was to keep in mind who and what she was. Not some unobtainable ideal, but who she was, deep down inside.

"I'm a carpet-munching, cunt-licking dyke, and I don't care who knows it."

The meditation over, Lois finished her makeup. Going into work would be the real test.

A normal Monday at the Daily Planet. Clark Kent loomed quietly by the coffee pot, his suit was a little frumpy but his copy would be exquisite. Jimmy Olsen was wearing his turtle boy outfit again. Perry White looked like someone had personally pissed in his coffee mug, but he was determined to drink it anyway.

Most surprising of all...Cat Grant had stopped by for a visit.

Cat was blonde now, and slim and shapely despite being in her late 30s. The perky breasts were implants, Lois was sure, but modest ones that accentuated rather than dominated her figure. The white dress came down to mid-thigh, the white jacket on top of that came down to just past her elbows. Pink lipstick and pink eyeshadow, white pumps to match the dress, she laughed and giggled and gossiped...

Lois had known her when they worked together. The single mother coming off the bad divorce, the **** of her son...absolutely tragic. Now though...Lois looked at Cat through different eyes. Her ass was pressed against the back of that white dress. Her cleavage with the implants and wonderbra was mesmerizing. Even before Lois came up to say "hi," she wondered what Cat would look like with the dress off. Their hug lasted a little too long, and Lois wondered if it was just her, or...

What the hell, Lane, Lois said to herself. Go for it!

"Cat," she said, her smile broad. "It's been ages! You simply must let me take you out to lunch."

Their eyes met. Lois could feel the tingle of the spell. It wanted to shape Lois to her desires...but the reporter resisted. She could do this without magic. She knew she could.

"Of course, Lois," Cat said. "I'd like that."

Which is how, a few hours later, Lois Lane had Cat Grant all to herself at a little Mexican place. They sipped their margaritas, and every time they told a joke and laughed one or the other of them would touch their arms. They talked about everything. Cat bemoaned her lack of a lovelife, how much she missed her son, the stress of her new job. All of it.

"If I have one more of these," Cat said, and sipped her bright teal concoction. "I won't be able to drive home."

"We still have cabs in Metropolis, Cat," Lois said, and sipped her own bright red version of the same. "Let your hair down. Live a little."

Which is how, several margaritas and a number of enchiladas later, Cat Grant and Lois Lane leaned against each other for support as they took off their shoes in the reporter's apartment.

"Oh, my feet," Cat said, as Lois helped her off with the jacket. "I tell you, Lois, never get old. Every part of me is old and frumpy...I have cellulite!"

She pulled up her skirt to reveal her gams. The reporter caught a flash of Cat's kitty, the black thong panties not concealing so much as showcasing the goods. Lois licked her lips.

"Oh, you're gorgeous. Why don't you take a load off," Lois guided the tipsy MILF into her bedroom. Cat allowed herself to lie down on the bed.

"Just...just for a few minutes," Cat said. But by then Lois had sat down on the edge of the bed and began to rub her friend's feet. Grant moaned in soft appreciation.

"You like that?" Lois said softly. Her hands worked their way up the older woman's calves. Then her thighs. Cat lay on her stomach, a purr emanated from her throat.

It stopped as Lois unzipped Cat's dress. Suddenly, the older woman was much more sober.

"Lois?" Cat asked. "What are..."

The reporter's hands pushed against Cat's ass. Not implants...maybe some kind of lift. She could actually smell the pussy this close.

"You're okay with this, right?" Lois said as she massaged the motherly butt. "It's been a while for you. Let me make you feel good."

"But I'm..." Cat took a deep breath. "I'm straight!"

"So is a noodle," Lois countered. "Until it's nice and wet."

"Oh," Cat said as Lois pulled the thong aside. In the dim darkness of the bedroom, she could barely see the pussy...but she didn't need to see it to feel for it with her tongue. To plant her lips against that crack. Lois wanted more. She reached up to Cat's hips and helped her turn over...to slip out of the dress...and now Lois could see those breasts, and the little scars from the implants, the flat stomach that spoke of a tummy tuck, the shaved pussy.

"You could be a porn star," Lois said as she eased Cat's legs over her own shoulders.

The reporter buried her head between Cat Grant's thighs. Her lips fastened on the little clit. Sucked and licked. There was a pins and needles sensation in her brain, and Lois heard the mantra over and over in her head.

My name is Lois Lane.
And I'm a lesbian.
I am attracted to women.
I like to eat pussy.
I'm a carpet-munching, cunt-licking dyke, and I don't care who knows it.

As Cat Grant moaned beneath her tongue, Lois Lane could feel the words sink deeper and deeper into the very essence of her being.

It was all so true.