Ten of Clubs

Lois' heart hammered in her chest as her fingers touched the deck.

She lifted up a stack of cards, flipped her wrist over... The Ten of Clubs stared up at her, stark and dark as an image drawn by Aubrey Beardsley, a woman on her knees surrounded by ten pricks, mouth open.

Blaze placed her own hand over what was left of the deck. Cut. Flip...

The Jack of Spades stared up at Lois, an ebony prince with an impossible phallus.

"You lose," Blaze smirked, drawing in the chips.

Lois Lane's heart sank. Her chin sank to her chest staring down at the mosquito bites...and was unable to hold back a small squawk of dispair as the little buds diminished, the nipples shrinking and flattening. She had a man's chest now, no hint of breasts at all, flat and completely undeveloped.

Her hands found her way to her nipples, tugging and pulling at them...but it was no good.

"I'm...I'm a cuntboy," Lois moaned. A part of her thought she should be shocked at the language, but it didn't seem to matter now.

"You still have...other virtues," Blaze said as she shuffled the cards. "What do you say, Lois? Care to put some of your other assets on the line?"

"Why the fuck not?" The reporter replied. She searched the chips piled in front of Blaze, but didn't see the one marked castitas. That was Latin for "chastity"—had the demon cashed it in already? What did that mean, losing a virtue?

Lois Lane didn't know, but at the moment she didn't fucking care. She felt like a titless freak.

"Let's cut again," she said.

"Bet first." Blaze said, sedately. "I take it you want your breasts back?"

The demon shoved four chips marked with tits into the center of the table.

"Yeah, I want my tits back," Lois said bitterly. "What do you want?"

As if answer to her question, Lois felt four chips under her left hand. She stared down at the table to see what they were.