Not Really

Deep inside, the old Lois Lane reasserted herself. Now that the moment of lust was past, and Rose pulled her little thorn out of the reporter's backside, letting her cocklet dribble on Lois Lane's swollen ass. The reporter reached out for the toilet paper to wipe her buttocks clean...and somehow, the thought of being stuck like this lost its luster.

I want to be me, she decided.

"So, um," Rose said. "Did you want to get a drink? Or hit up a gloryhole? I know a place where you can just suck dick all night..."

Lois pulled her pants up as high as they would go. She leaned in and kissed Rose on the cheek.

"Maybe another night," the reporter said. "I'm a bit tired. Think I'm going to turn in early."

"Oh," Rose said, blushing but a little crestfallen. The reporter reached between her legs to where the transwoman's little dicklet was hanging out. She gave the balls a light squeeze.

"I'm serious," Lois said, and rattled off the number to her burner phone. "Text me later. Maybe we can have some more fun another night."

Rose smiled...and Lois wandered out of the bathroom. Not really seeing anyone, she passed out of the crowded club, off into the cool, uncrowded streets...and closed her eyes. Pictured herself as she had been...as she was supposed to be...as she truly was.

There was a pins-and-needles sensation all over her body.

When Lois Lane opened her eyes, she was once again the Daily Planet's Greatest reporter, as she had been when she had first intoned the words of that spell. All woman, no piercings, no split tongue. She set off toward home, suddenly exhausted, as if all the desire had drained out of her...

...but the spell had not yet run its full course. Lois Lane had in her invocation called upon a supernatural power...and the demon Blaze had her say in how that power was used.