Lois Uses Sleight Of Hand To Make Tyrell Take The Pill

Suspicion flared in Lois Lane's mind...after all, she didn't know Tyrell at all. The reporter smiled and nodded as though agreeing with the Black man's plan...but when she went to cut the pill with the razor blade, she palmed it and merely mimed popping it into her mouth. Yet the dark eyes were fixed on Lois as she pretended to take a drink to wash it down...and while Tyrell was focused on her throat, Lois Lane's fingers slipped the broken pill into his own glass.

She set the glass down with an easy smile.

"How long until it takes effect?" the reporter asked, the better to pretend to be under the pill's effects.

Tyrell shrugged. "Depends on the dose. A few minutes, perhaps. Finish your drink."

Another flare of suspicion stabbed into the reporter's brain. She made to pick up her drink again...and it slipped, as though by accident, from her slick fingers; crashed against the edge of the table, and spilled in her lap.

"Great Caesar's ghost!" she exclaimed as she stood up, to make a great fuss. "I need to get this out before it stains...bathroom...just a minute...order me another drink, will you?"

Lois Lane was gone before Tyrell could argue the point...and in the bathroom the reporter stripped out of jacket and shirt, rinsing the latter in the sink. She felt oddly buzzed...and wondered if, perhaps, there was something more in that drink than she had thought.

Topless, clad in only her bra, the reporter stared into the grungy mirror. Her breasts had never been very generous; mere handfuls, though Lois had always been proud that they sat high on her chest, that perfect half-teardrop shape, with small and delicate pink nipples...but now her bra felt tight, and Lois frowned as she saw that the straps were actually digging into her shoulders a little. With a moment's thought, Lois unclasped her bra...

Yes, they are swollen, Lois decided as she leaned back and squared her shoulders to best display her "girls." The reporter felt as though she had avoided some kind of trap, as she tucked the bra into the pocket of her jacket, put the wet t-shirt back on over her bare breasts, and the jacket on top of that. Stalling for time, she checked her smartphone for messages, and freshened her lipstick. When she had taken as many minutes as she dared, the reporter headed back out into the club, her pink nipples stiff against the white cotton fabric of her shirt.

The question is, Lois thought to herself, how will that little pill affect Tyrell?

When she returned to the table, Lois Lane found out...