Come To Collect

Lois was rimming Maria's asshole when the green light played over the stall from behind her.

The light was pain.

The reporter recoiled, her strength seemed to drain from her instantly as the light hit her. Maria too hissed and tried to cover her skin. A familiar voice spoke.

"Looks like she's responding. On your feet, Lane. You too, Maria." The voice ordered.

The women staggered to their knees, then rose on wobbly legs. The whole time, the light burned across their skin. It wasn't bright, exactly, but it seemed to dazzle Lois' eyes, and every muscle seemed to ache.

"Out here," the voice said, and Lois focused on it. Focused on the shape that was holding the damn light.

Maria and Lois staggered out of the stall. Maria, Lois noticed, looked away from the light, and Lois followed her gaze into the bathroom mirror—and all the pieces fell into place.

"Mercy," she said. Lex Luthor's bodyguard and girl friday...and the thing she held in her hand...it was a chunk of green crystal. Kryptonite. She thought. Why would I be affected by Kryptonite? Why would Maria?

"Maria, strip," Mercy said. The woman did—not sexily or with much enthusiasm, but hurriedly she shed her clothes, to stand there naked and ****. Lois noticed the Kryptonite was held in a kind of curved metal reflector that focused the rays.

"The door." Mercy said. The barmaid rushed to a maintenance door in the bathroom—which, half-blinded and weakened by the kryptonite as she was, Lois noticed was newer and sturdier than the rest of the fixtures, and had a biometric keypad. The barmaid laid her palm flat against the electronic rectangle next to the door, and the bolts unlocked with a heavy thunk.

"Walk, ladies." Mercy said

Naked, her back burning from the emerald rays, Lois gritted her teeth and followed Maria, her eyes mostly on the shapely ass as she tried to focus through the pain.

They strange parade moved along a back corridor; doors led off to offices, storage closets, a breakroom. Employees stared at the two nude women, and Lois blushed a little at being marched naked through this semi-public space...she debated making a move, but there was no time and nowhere to go. Best to bide and be ready for the moment, whenever it presented itself.

A large man with a bald head, black glasses, and an earpiece stood in front of a door at the end of it, a heavy pistol visible in a shoulder holster—the lack of concealment alone let Lois know they were close to something big.

"Open it, Terry." Mercy said, and the big man moved quickly to do so.

"Inside. Both of you."

They walked inside. It was a cube of shiny white tile, with industrial-looking vertical lamps on every wall and the ceiling, along with small dark flatscreens. There was a little platform in the center. Then the door clicked shut...Lois felt an instant of relief, as the green light was blocked, and the burning and weakness ceased...and there was the thump of a bolt as it locked. Maria shivered.

The screens flickered into life. Mercy stared out from all around the reporter. "I'm sure you have questions," she began. "I have questions too. You will answer them, one way or another."

"Maria," Lois whispered. "Where are we?"

"The White Room," the woman hissed back. "This is...this is where they do the experiments..."

The lamps in the room began to brighten, and Lois felt...nothing. Barely a warmth, even as it got harder and harder to see. She felt better, in fact, than she had since she had come into the club. The light seemed to burn away the fever, the dizziness, the alcoholic haze...