Poison Ivy Takes Lois Lane Somewhere The Reporter's Melons Can Really Grow

Lois Lane fought. Her left hand ripped out in a savage jab toward Ivy's smiling face. Only to find her fist swing wide, and the inertia of her enormous tits sent the reporter sprawling forward...to be caught by Ivy's minions, dressed in club-clothes but with collars about their neck, who waited just beyond the door.

The reporter kicked. She screamed. Yet it was useless. Her breasts hung off her chest like a pair of medicine balls as Ivy opened a secret door in the back of the bathroom, and Lois was carried down stairs, through a brick-lined tunnel that must have run beneath the neighboring alley, and then back up more stairs...to emerge into Ivy's true lair.

It was one-half growhouse, and one-half mad scientist's laboratory. Great growlights hung from the ceiling, so that it was bright and hot as noon. Rows of growing plants basked beneath that light, attended by naked women with collars tied around their necks. The plants looked like small orange or lemon trees, but the plants that hung off them looked disturbingly like pendulous green breasts, obviously not ripe yet, but with disturbingly human nipples on the bottom. Tables full of glassware contained odd-colored chemicals, laptops buzzed softly next to devices Lois Lane recognized as autoclaves, mass spectrometers, X-ray machines, and other electronic equipment she had no names for.

"Hang her over there," Ivy gestured at bare slab of concrete with a drain in the middle. A hook hung from the rafters, and the minions tied the reporter's wrists together and lifted her up until Lois hung there, able to stand comfortably, but not to sit.

Briefly, Lois tried to lift herself up, but the mass of her swollen tits made it too awkward...and then the minions began to strip her clothes off of her, cutting away at her jacket and shirt until the reporter stood naked, her massive chest on vulgar display.

Ivy smiled at those tits.

"Oh, how ripe your melons are going to be," the villain's hands groped at the reporter's swollen jugs, which looked hideously fake and spherical against Lois Lane's thin frame. "You're responding so well to this new formula. I can't wait to see how much bigger your melons will grow."

Lois Lane gulped. Already, she was beginning to sweat. The naked minions approached her, the collars about their necks included small electronic devices, and their eyes were dull and dead. At Ivy's direction, they brought forward syringes, IV bags on metal stands, and—most worryingly—a pair of hoses.

The reporter's mouth became a thin line. She knew she had to buy time. The Justice League was on its way. Or at least, the reservists...