Black Manta; Atlantis Needs Whores

The naked reporter was groggy and discombobulated as a small army of technicians or nurses extracted her from the strange device with its pounding dildoes, flashing lights, and commanding voice. Lois Lane could muster no resistance as she was strapped into a straitjacket, a ball gag forced between her lips and secured around the back of her head, and carried to a waiting car.

Her purchaser, a tall slim black man with hair cropped close to his head, sat next to her in the backseat as they drove through the streets of Metropolis. Away from the club and the hypnotic machine, Lois Lane felt more...present. She eyed the crotch of his suit, and a bit of drool dribbled out of the corners of her mouth. If not for the gag, the reporter was sure she could unzip him with his teeth, and then dig his cock out with her mouth...

He began to disrobe. Lois felt her heart pound with hope, her pussy gush wetly as she imagined perhaps he would fuck her, right here, right now in the car...but no, there was a dark costume like a wetsuit beneath the business suit he wore. The black man crumpled up the suit and pressed a hidden button...and a part of the seat between him and Lois folded down, to reveal a distinct helmet.

Black Manta! Lois recognized the villain at last.

"You should feel honored, Miss Lane," Black Manta said as he fixed the helmet onto his suit. It locked into place with a hiss, and his voice came through strangely distorted. "The Atlantean colonies off the coast of Africa have enjoyed surface women for centuries...but white women are still relatively rare. You will fetch a good price, in service to the cocks of those dark undersea princes!"

Lois Lane's violet eyes went wide. Her heart leaped into her chest at the mention of black cock...but beneath or mingled with Lex Luthor's programming, the reporter could not help memorizing every detail, and thinking that perhaps this was where the other women had gone.

The car stopped. Black Manta opened the door and pulled the reporter out, not ungently. Her naked feet touched the wood of a wharf...her eyes saw that she was out by the harbor. Clouds hid the moon, but something surfaced silently next to the pier...a dark, curved, phallic shape...

Effortlessly, the villain scooped the reporter up and carried her to the submarine. Lois Lane's journey to Atlantis had begun.