"Are you going to mind control me?"

The reporter's question came out naturally, her curiosity already caught by those swirling green lights in the sorceress' eyes, that seemed to suck Lois forward into deep, dark depths.

"No," Circe said. "There shall be no control. Everything you do will be of your own will. It is important you understand that. I can feel your ardor, just beneath the surface. You are resisting your own instincts, your own desires. Denying your inner self. What I am going to do is suppress that denial, just for a little while."

The swirling lights seemed to be all that Lois could see. The sorceress' voice seemed to come from all around.

"Think of it like what you sought with ****—a release of your inhibitions—only this release shall be guided by my sorcery. You need not worry about losing control of your bowels, or saying the wrong thing. Only your sexual mores will be diminished...and only for a little time. Nothing permanent. You may still say no..."

Lois blinked. She and Circe were standing now, on the sand. The green glow in the sorceress' eyes was diminishing down to green coals...and then they were just perfectly normal hazel eyes. A breeze blew, whipping that lavender hair in her face, and Lois was aware of the sun on her bare back, the warm palms of older woman on her shoulder. Her eyes fell...

To stare at the other woman's breasts.

The Daily Planet's greatest reporter had seen breasts before—her own every day, other women's on the internet, in books, in the locker rooms at the gym. Now she couldn't take her eyes off them. They were a little fuller than her own, which made them stand out farther, and hang a little lower, though there was only the barest touch of sag. The nipples were bigger, and darker than she had first thought, the blue veins just visible through the areola.

"Were you pregnant?" Lois asked, then blushed as she wondered if that was a rude question.

"I have a daughter—somewhere out there, living her own life," Circe said. "Although I could still make some milk for you, if you'd like?"

"You're kidding," Lois said, eyes still glued on the breasts. It was as if she couldn't look away...no, that wasn't quite right. Lois closed her eyes, counted to five, and opened them again. **** her gaze left and right, up and down. Yes, she could look away—but as her violet eyes came to rest on those breasts again, she realized that she didn't want to.

Circe took her hands off the reporter's shoulders and grasped her own breasts. With a smooth, practiced motion, the older woman squeezed them back to front, toward Lois, the fingers pinching as they came near the nipples. She did it several times, the reporter watching in fascination, and then...just at the tip of the nipple, that rough surface covered with bumps...a white bead of liquid appeared.