End: A Week. Two weeks, Tops.

Not without effort, Lois Lane sat up. Her breasts hung off her chest licke a pair of jiggly cantaloupes, the nipples swollen until they hung off the end like little pink strawberries. She coughed to clear her throat, swallowed grainy dust, and coughed again, trying to work up enough saliva to actually talk.

"A week!?" the reporter croaked. "I can't go to work like this! What the heck am I supposed to do for an entire week?"

Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy turned to look at each other. Each one raised an eyebrow, a smile on their lips. Lois Lane was too busy hefting her new funbags with her hands to notice the exchange.

Lois just couldn't get over the weight. Her shoulders were already aching, her skin felt three sizes too small, and the reporter could swear she saw the tell-tale white streaks of stretch marks on the sides. The reporter didn't have much hope for those fading away in a week's time. She licked her lips, salivating and swallowing, trying to clear her throat and mouth of the last remnants of the pollen.

"Maybe some kind of binder," she muttered to herself, in some semblance of her old voice.

"Y'know, babe," Harley Quinn said, settling in behind Lois on the ground, wrapping her legs around the reporter's waist and sliding her hands under the reporter's hefty tits, lifting and squeezing them. "I think Pam and I can keep you occupied 'til your titties shrink again."

"I. Uh. Huh?" The Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter felt her tongue-tied as Poison Ivy, naked and red hair hanging down like a curtain about her face, began to stalk forward on her hands and knees like a panther.

She swallowed hard. Harley Quinn's feet slid in behind the reporter's legs and **** them open, exposing the pussy to the woman crawling forward. Lois could feel the hot breath blowing on her pussy.

"I'm really...tired..." Lois hedged, as the plant-woman parted her hair to push her face into the reporter's hedge.

"You don't have to do a thing, babe. This is ain't a three-way. This is a one way. From us...to you."

The hands squeezed Lois Lane's breasts until she thought they were about to burst. Poison Ivy's honey'd tongue buried itself in the reporter's cleft...and Lois could feel the odd tingle as the plant-woman released chemicals into her membranes. Unable to resist, Lois felt the tingling spread...and with it a great slackness, so that she seemed to melt into Harley Quinn's arms, her head lolling on the villain's shoulder as Harley planted a series of hard kisses on her neck, sucking and biting to leave a string of little hickeys.

For the first time, Lois Lane realized she was completely naked...and so were Harley and Ivy. Their hands wandered over her, seeking, exploring, caressing... Ivy's mouth fastened on the reporter's clit, and Lois Lane moaned, back arching, thrusting her massive tits out into the hot air of the growhouse.

"I'm a doctor, y'know," Harley said. "An I'm gonna write you a note for work. You need a vacation. Way too stressed. You need, like two weeks of bedrest."

Ivy lifted up her mouth for a moment. "She won't get any rest in our bed."

Lois moaned again as the redhead went back to licking the reporter's little honeypot.

"True," Harley said. "Guess Dr. Quinzel is going to have to write you a prescription. How do you feel about medical marijuana?"

The reporter opened her eyes and looked around at the rows of pot plants.

"I, uh...sure," the reporter said, unable to say no to that pale, happy face.

"Great!" Harley said with a grin.

The smiles dropped. Lois and Harley's faces tilted, mouths open, and met. Lips locked, their tongues slid forward, testing, tasting. Sucking on each other's spittle, sharing one breath between them. Down below, Lois Lane felt a tightness in her belly as the plant woman's tongue began to twirl in the reporter's crotch.

Two weeks getting high and fucking, Lois Lane mused as her kiss with Harley broke down into a series of smaller kisses, the lips flashing at one another, mouths puckering and landing on cheek, chin, and nose. Harley laughed, one hand dropping Lois Lane's tit to creep down the valley of the reporter's flat stomach. Lois Lane gasped in new pleasure as the nimble fingers caught her clit and began to rub it gently in time with Ivy's lapping tongue.

There are far worse ways this night could end.