End: When Your Transformation Is Complete

Pussy juice ran in rivulets down Lois Lane's chin. Down over her swollen, fake-looking tits, down the hard-packed cum-gutters of her abs, down to where the bimbo's cunt humped the air.

"Every dose you take leaves its mark on you. Fats cells that don't go away. Tiny shifts to your metabolism. A few more brain cells that die, or connections that don't get made anymore. It isn't just that you need bigger and bigger doses to get the same effect, but you're going to start looking more and more like the brainless, cockhungry slut you are even when you're not on your knees, sucking dick or eating pussy to get a few dollars for your next hit."

Lois slurped, not really listening. Blaze's foot was perched on the chair between her legs, and the bimbo had found by arching her back and scooting her hips forward, she could rub her cunny against the demon's toes. The nake demon allowed her that privilege. It was only the start of things, after all.

"Until finally you won't need the **** at all. But of course by that point, you'll be too fucking dumb to know it. You won't be able to think about anything more than cock or pussy for more than a few minutes. You won't be able to remember your father's name, but you'll be able to remember the shape and taste of the pizza boy's cock. And the best part?"

Blaze let the reporter's hands go. Immediately, the reporter gripped the demon's buttocks, her tongue buried itself in the demon's twat, eyes dilated, sucking and slurping at the slit as she humped her cuny furiously against Blaze's leg.

"It's going to happen so slow, that by the time you actually realize how much you've lost, it'll be too late to go back. You won't be able to help yourself. All it took to get you to this point was a little taste...and you've basically sealed your destiny as a big-titted, bimbo whore. My whore."

The demon's hands clasped the reporter's head and turned it upward so that she could stare into those vacant violet eyes.

"I'm going to give you all the pills you want. I'm going to let you earn them by degrading yourself, night after night. Whenever your guard slips, whenever you just want to get away from thinking, you'll do what it takes...and then, after a while, you'll find yourself doing those things anyway. I'll have you fuck hundreds. I'll make you legendary...and you'll beg for me to stuff your cunt with pills, just so that you can feel your tits balloon and your brain fry. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Lois Lane stared upward...she was drooling, lost in some inner space of being. Not thinking, not remembering, just...existing. It wouldn't last. A half-hour more at most, and then the crash would come, the painful reality of thinking, her tits would start to shrink a little...and Blaze smiled as she thought about the baggie of samples that Lois Lane would leave with, and what she would do with them.

Lois staggered into the elevator. The last hour or so was a blur, but the naked woman was there, and the reporter could feel the ziploc baggie full of pulls stuffed into her pussy. Her bra was gone, but Lois could still see her breasts unnaturally swollen.

"Remember," Blaze said with a smile. "Whenever you need more...you know where to come."

The reporter nodded. Her head felt thick, and it was hard to talk...but she felt a flush of success. She was onto a big story now, much bigger than just those missing women. All she had to do was...was...

Lois went blank for a moment as the elevator door closed. She had lost her train of thought. Her hands closed on her boobies and gave them a squeeze. It was sad to think that they would go away soon.

Maybe just one more pill, Lois thought, biting her lip. After all, what could it hurt? I can stop anytime I want...