She Starts To Like It

Circe began to hum to herself as she scratched at the reporter's bare scalp. Lois closed her eyes, trying to ignore it. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. The branding was bad enough, but the tattoos, the piercings, and now her hair...

The sorceress tilted the reporter's head forward. Lois opened her eyes, staring at her crotch. From this angle, she could really see the tattoos, dark against the tanned skin; the gleam of metal at her clit, nipples, and labia. It was so strange to think of them as being a part of her, yet she knew they were.

As much as the reporter wanted to be disgusted by what she had become...she kind of liked it.

Her whole life, Lois Lane had never had the courage to get a tattoo, or a piercing below her ears. Daddy would never have allowed it, and a bad example for her sister Lucy. Now she was...well, not ruined. The work was good, even pretty. A bra and panties would cover the tattoos and piercings on her body. She wondered...

The reporter's right hand moved away from the arm of the chair. Lois froze, suddenly aware that she was moving. The witch's command only made her sit in the chair, it didn't cover movement in the chair. Circe herself was engrossed in her work.

Barely daring to breathe, afraid of being caught out at any moment, the reporter lowered her fingers to her transformed crotch. The brand declaring her Circe's property were raised flesh under her fingers, the tattoos smooth, hairless and click. She felt her heart pound as the fingers drifted lower, lifting the heavy metal ring that pierced through her clit.

Almost immediately, the little nub of flesh began to expand. With the ring, it couldn't quite retract all the way into its hood anyway, but now the simple action of moving the ring was enough to get the reporter's juices starting to flow. She could feel the warmth beginning to spread in her pussy, contrasted with the cold of the metal tugging at her nipples. Lois wondered about the rings piercing her labia, if it would have a similar effect. Her fingers dipped lower.

Lois slid her left hand off the arm of the chair, letting each hand grab a ring and slowly pry her labia apart. The black tattoo-work against the tanned, hairless pussy was exquisite, fine little floral patterns, like vines being parted, lapping right around to the edge of the pinky pussy within. The reporter's heart was thundering in her ears as she stared down at her pussy pulled apart in that way, the bring pink insides contrasting so strongly with the dark tattoos without.

She wondered what it would be like if she had some kind of chain that wrapped around her waist, holding her labia apart, pink insides on permanent display...it was a way of thinking about her body that she never had before. Lois had always been confident in her body, in her sexual attractiveness, but now she was thinking of...displaying herself.

And that thought didn't disgust her as she thought it would. In fact, she was getting excited thinking about it.