A Hand

Fingers were curled around the reporter's ankle, gripping it tight...and Lois Lane kicked backward with her free leg, tried to brace herself against the sides of the duct, but no matter how hard she fought, the stubbornly clinging hand drew her back into the darkness with inhuman strength.

Lois Lane began to pant. Her fingernails clung at any edge, if only to slow the inevitable. Her heart pounded, breasts sweaty, which with the grime of the duct was quickly making them stick to her shirt. The hand was clamped painfully tight about her ankle, but worse than that with her free leg flailing and kicking, she could feel the statue's cum inside her pussy leaking out, down her pants leg.

It was the dark and unknown that gripped Lois Lane as inch by inch she was drawn deeper into the duct, the square of light that had been the vent she'd entered in growing smaller and smaller. She didn't know who or what had taken ahold of her, but she knew that it was strong and that her rain of kicks had been utterly useless to dislodge it. The reporter hardly dared to breathe in the **** dust, but she considered her options...because now, of all times, maybe it was time to scream for help.

But what help would come? Superman?

The torturous journey felt like hours, though Lois knew it must have only been minutes; like miles, though she could tell by looking at the vent that it had hardly been twenty feet. If she could just get free of that inhuman grip, the reporter had no doubt she could shimmy like a cockroach and be straight out of that duct in no time at all.

Then Lois felt a change in air on her legs, and she was aware of an opening to her left—another shaft! If she could wedge her arm into it...

The duct was too tight for Lois to twist her body much, but she thrust her arm into the space, found the edge, and braced her upper torso against it as much as she could. The hand tugged stubbornly, but now that Lois was anchored it didn't seem strong enough to dislodge her. It pulled and pulled, and Lois hung on, grimacing into the darkness...but she stayed where she was.

Lois panted in the darkness as the pulling suddenly slackened. The hand was still there, gripping her ankle...but it was no longer trying to pull her back. No, that hand, and whatever it was attached to, had different plans...