Chapter 18 by Zeebop

What Change Has The Mutagenic Cum Wrought?

Lois Lane Becomes A Living Onahole

The reporter opened her eyes. She could see the ceiling, high and with lights hanging from the girders, some of which were dressed up with fake plants to mimic a jungle canopy. Her pussy itched. The reporter reached down to scratch it...

...but she couldn't move her arm. Then she realized she couldn't feel her arm. Suddenly concerned, Lois tried to sit up.

Her back ached as she shifted forward. It wasn't that she couldn't do a situp, but her balance was off, body wobbling unsteadily. The reporter couldn't feel her legs either, but they had to be.

Lois Lane, sitting as upright as she could manage, stared down at her body.

Her legs were gone. The slim waist trailed down to her hips, but the thighs were gone, her oversized pussy resting directly on the floor, balanced only slightly by her ass. The reporter craned her neck and saw that her shoulders were smooth, rounded lumps as well. No arms...no sign that there ever had been arms.

There was a tightness in Lois Lane's chest, and she realized she was sucking in air, hyperventilating, body wobbling on her pussy...her pussy...she stared back down at the cunt. It was too big, the outer labia as wide as her hips, splayed out on the ground beneath her. The reporter estimated she could fit her whole head in there without effort, the clitoris nearly the size of her nose.

Seeking any escape from the nightmare, Lois twisted her head this way and that, taking stock of the room. Vixen was still on the floor, soft snores coming from her throat, cock limp and laying across her thigh, a little jizz dribbling out of the flat head of the horsecock.

The mutagenic cum! Lois thought, staring over at the black python. Maybe if I drank more...

She shook her head. A wild hope. There was no guarantee she might not end up as something even worse than she was now. On the other hand...she felt like a living sex toy. If the Vixen woke up...Lois had no defense against her. Utterly helpless. A living nightmare.

No. Lois Lane thought as she set her jaw. I may be quadriplegic and have a pussy fit for an elephant, but I refuse to be helpless. I've got to do something!

She surveyed the room again, evaluating her options. Without arms or legs, they seemed few.

...but what?