Chapter 17 by Zeebop

Does the camera have a memory card, or is it streaming live?

The Camera Is Streaming Live

The reporter frowned as her fingers poked and prodded at the camera, the glass eye catching the naked reporter with pink bimbo **** dripping from her chin, the red light showing that it was still live, still streaming...

An idea poked painfully slowly through Lois Lane's skull. This was a communication channel. A way to contact the outside world.

"M-my name is Lois Lane," she said as she stared into the camera. "I'm a reporter with the Daily Planet. I've been kidn—captured. I was undercover. Now I'm—I'm naked. They gave me ****. I need...need somebody to call 911...the police...I'm beneath this club..."

Lois babbled, her thoughts trailing off. It was so difficult to keep focused...and every time she lost focus, she stopped paying attention to where she was pointing the camera. About the time she was begging the perverts watching to dial 911, the glass eye of the camera was zooming in on her left nipple, which had began to swell, stiff and erect. Her tits itched, and the skin felt tight. She could feel a growing pain in her neck and shoulder.

Then she stared down at her titties.

And she had titties to stare at.

Lois Lane had been an A-cup since puberty. Sometimes, during the worst period bloating, she had to break out the B-cup. But not often. Diet, exercise...she was thin, and had no tits. So staring down at where her chesticles should be and seeing the modest flesh-colored balloons, swollen and tight on her chest was a revelation. She blinked, almost hypnotized at her cleavage.

Then she realized, slowly and painfully, what that meant.

The bimbo **** were affecting her. She was getting dumber.

With a panic, Lois Lane looked into the eye of the camera and begged.

"Superduperman! Save me! Save my titties!"

A plaintive call from the depths of Lois Lane's soul as her brain slowly curdled and her breasts slowly swelled...