Lois Wants To Meet Blaze

"Yes, that's right," the reporter said. She stood and stretched. Lois Lane didn't feel any heavier—if anything, her muscles seemed a little more defined—but her tits were definitely heavier, and the reporter wondered if somehow her body was moving fat cells around inside her body. That didn't seem possible, but then neither was the sudden explosion of boob-flesh.

The reporter rolled her shoulders and watched her sensitive sweater-kittens jiggle. It was a good thing she was in good shape, or these babies would definitely throw her off-balance!

The faux-Vixen crawled over to a costume-box and pulled out...well, Lois wouldn't call them clothes, exactly. There was an orange leotard based on the original Vixen's costume, with a hole cut out so that the black dickgirl's massive horse-cock and balls could dangle freely. While she stuffed herself into that scanty garment, Lois picked out a leopard-print bikini top that could handle her new girls. With her tight red pants and her jacket on top of that, the reporter was almost decent.

The black dickgirl led Lois out of the room and down a plush, well-appointed corridor. It almost looked like an upscale hotel, with numbers on the doors and keycard locks, though Lois knew that behind them other women—and who said it was just women?—would be pleasuring clients, or themselves. A part of Lois wondered how they had been transformed...why they whored themselves out this way...

"What's your name?" Lois asked suddenly.

"It was Lamarr," the black dickgirl said. "But these days, I've been calling myself Latisha."

"Well, Latisha," Lois said. "Anything you can tell me about Blaze before I meet her?"

"She's the owner. Runs this place. I don't have a lot of experience as a...sex worker...but I owe her big for this body of mine, and she's very good about it. Doesn't charge us for room or food, always makes sure we understand how much we're earning, what debt we have to pay off still..."

"Has anyone paid off their debt yet?" Lois pressed.

"No," Latisha admitted. "But the club is pretty new...jsut the last month or so. I figure it'll take me maybe six months until I'm...paid off."

"Then what?" Lois asked. "What are you going to do with your new body?"

"I don't...I mean, I don't want to do hooking. On my own. I might ask if I can stay on for a while. Or maybe see if I can get into porn as a camgirl or something. I mean, back when I was...before, I used to love to see transgirls suck themselves off on camera, and none of them were as big as I am now."

I believe that, Lois thought, as she glanced at the two-foot-long horsecock that dangled between Latisha's legs. She thought of her own new assets. Few women had natural tits this big. Lois could probably make some money in the camwhore market herself...

Now where did that thought come from? Lois wondered. She shook her head. "How did you meet Blaze?"

"I came to the club. She...I guess she bought me this drink, this gray cocktail...and we got to talking. She's a great listener, you know? I just started unloading myself on her, and she was so sympathetic, and she said she could help me, but there was a price...and we talked some more and I said yes." Latisha paused then, in the middle of the corridor. "At least I think that's what happened. Everything before the transformation, it's a little...hazy."

They resumed walking. Latisha's face was screwed up in concentration, but Lois felt they were finally getting somewhere.

"You remember the transformation itself though, right?"

"There was a jewel," the black dickgirl's brow was furrowed. "A ruby, as big as your fist. I looked into it, and it was like I could see every reflection of myself in those depths...each one a bit different...and she told me I had to pick which one..."

She shook her head. They stopped in front of a door without a number. Instead, there was a brass inverted pentagram right in the middle of the door. No knob or lever either. Latisha reached over and rapped on the brass pentagram.