Tanned, Pierced, and Tattooed

Once, Lois had fallen asleep while tanning on a hot, sunny beach. In her dreams, she had been walking through a vast and eternal desert beneath a cloudless sky that seemed to go on forever, without even a breeze to offer a moment's respite. She had woken up feeling absolutely baked, skin burning, dying for a cold bath.

This came to her now, in a moment of déjà vu, as her eyelids fluttered. There was that same heat, the gasp for cold water. For a moment she was sure that she was back on that beach, cooking under a Mediterranean sun...and then reality reasserted itself.

She was in the shade of the pavilion, resting on a divan. A cold cup was pressed to her lips.

"Drink," Circe said, no supernatural command in her voice. "You must be very thirsty."

Lois opened dry lips and sipped hesitantly, and then fiercely. It was cold and clear, some aromatic wine, crisp and dry, that seemed to cut through all the dust in her throat. It brought her back to full awareness, dragged her back to consciousness...and with that came pain.

The reporter pushed the cup away and stared at Circe's handiwork.

Her once-pale skin had burned into a deep tan, the type that rich people only try to get with their tanning beds and spray-tans, but never really muster. For a moment. Two heavy black loops of metal hung through the reporter's nipples, which had been tattooed almost black with small vines and floral patterns.

There was a ring through the reporter's clitoris, too, and on either side of her labia. The crotch was completely hairless now, and no bikini-marks to interrupt the tan-lines there either. Instead, more tattoos, fresh and bloody, carefully done so that they could easily be concealed with a pair of panties...and yet covering every inch, right down to the lips of her labia. Although Lois couldn't see it, she could feel a similar pain stretch down her taint, around her asshole, and up the crack of her ass.

"Why?" Lois asked, when she could speak again.

"Because I can," the sorceress said, admiring the reporter's body. "Most would think me unsubtle, turning men into pigs, battling with heroes like Wonder Woman. Yet this is by far my preferred trade. You will carry these marks for the rest of your life, easy to conceal and yet difficult to remove."

One finger flicked the reporter's right nipple ring and Lois gasped as the little nub of flesh grew immediately and painfully erect.

"It amuses me to think of you carrying the marks of secret shame on your body. The slut, hidden beneath the prim and proper woman. Your true self."

Lois wasn't sure she wanted to laugh or cry. It was too much to think on...and then her eyelids fluttered heavily, a great lassitude sinking into her muscles. She could hardly keep her eyes open.

"The potion will help you heal swiftly. It is not good to engage in sex until your body has recovered. So sleep for a time, my dear...and when you awake, in an hour or so, we shall see what else I can think of to do to you."

Circe's laughter followed Lois into her dreams.