That's Big Enough

Lois Lane's new piercing hurt. The red light was burning so bright, she could see it through their growing tit-flesh, like holding a flashlight against the palm of your hand. The reporter stared at the glowing boob with the dark veins running through it, and knew that if she didn't put an end to this now, she'd end up with tits bigger than her head...and as much as a part of her desperately wanted that, another, rational part of her didn't want to end up as a big-boobed freak.

"That's good! I'm good. Enough." Lois said.

Maria's fingers gripped Lois's pussy, her thumb coming down to rub the reporter's clitoris.

"Are you suuuuure?" The young woman said. "I mean, you're not even giving Dolly Parton a run for her money yet. I bet we could get you much bigger."

"No," Lois huffed, and she brought her arms up to push against Maria's shoulders. "Really, that's okay. I'm big enough."

The young woman sighed. She backed off, her hand sliding out of the reporter's pussy. The tingle in the reporter's bloated bosom faded, and Lois took stock of how big her tits were. While she didn't have a cup-size to reference, to her eyes they looked about the same size as cantaloupes. They jutted out like a shelf, hanging at about the edge of her sternum...but as her fingers explored them, they were soft, not hard like breast implants.

Great Caesar's ghost, the reporter thought to herself. My rack would give Jessica Rabbit a run for her money!

While they weren't quite as torpedo-like as those cartoon boobs, Lois had to admit that she no longer had breasts. There were tits. Fat fucking tits. Big fucking tits. Huge, jiggling, glorious, tits. Seated on the mattress Lois lifted them up with her hands and let them fall, watching them bounce and jiggle. They were so big, the reporter bet she could fit both nipples in her mouth with just a little effort.

"They are lovely," Maria said. "But I still think they'd look better bigger."

There was a hard mechanical clunk. Lois looked up from playing with her tits to see Maria had a gun in her hands...although it was not any model of pistol that Lois had ever seen. It almost looked like an airgun. The red crystal was nowhere to be seen, but something in the barrel of the rifle glowed red.

The young woman was in a shooter's posture, legs spread one hand on the grip and the other supporting, as if to assist with recoil. Lois Lane stared down the length of the barrel and knew that the woman was sighting at her tits...and especially at this range, they weren't a small target.