Lois Lane Is Contained To Complete Her Transformation Into A Xenomorph Queen

The security team sent in by Lex Luthor had been trained for metahuman threats. Their personal body armor was designed to take blows from Venom-users, their tazer-tipped tonfas carried enough charge to put down a charging bull. They moved into the room in lockstep, their riot shields raised, covering each other...and utterly unfazed by the slim humanoid in the corner whose pale soft skin had given way to black chitin, the violet eyes hidden by a smooth carapace, lips peeled back to reveal grey, metallic teeth. Her small breasts had become dark, taut little domes, her naked torso restructured into a kind of skeletal carapace-cum-corset that held them up high while protecting her vitals. Between her legs, her vulva pulsed and oozed, the stub of a tail extended from the base of her spine.

The thing that had been Lois Lane back away warily as they filed into the room—and then, with impossible speed, burst forward. Her claws gouged chunks out of the shields, her hard, compact mass barreling into the troops. Against a less disciplined squad, the nascent queen might have sent them into disarray...but LexCorp's heavy security squad held their line.

As Lois scratched and spit, tazer-tipped weapons stabbed out. The half-xenomorph voiced a still-very-human scream as she shook and shivered in uncontrollable paroxysms...long enough for two members of the squad to attach two long pincer-like collars about her neck.

None of them would forget the next half hour, as the squad frog-marched the nascent queen to her new containment chamber. Even as they watched, the former reporter continued to transform—her tail elongating, skeletal limbs longer, sharp claws leaving scars on walls and any guard that got too close. Her skull had begun to elongate, a chitinous royal crest forming...and when her mouth opened a rudimentary secondary jaw jutted out, snapping at the air.

Yet the most impressive changes were sexual—her vagina, now glowing a lambent green, was puffy and larger; her hips had widened and shifted, her stomach had begun to distend into a soft black swell. Even her breasts had begun to grow, the dark nipples like spikes, but surrounded by small, smooth openings from which, perhaps, milk might one day flow...someday soon.

The containment chamber was deeper within the facility; every surface reinforced and treated to be resistant to fang, claw, and molecular acid. The collared queen was locked into place above a great depression intended as a broodpit, and troughs on either side provided a steady flow of water and nutrient sludge—which the famished queen immediately dunked her head in, swallowing greedily to feed her growth.

As the squad retreated and the chamber was sealed, Luthor stared at his prize through a monitor. Everything was going perfectly.