Crawl

It was a simple order. Part of the game. Lois Lane aimed herself at the bed, and began to crawl on hands and knees out of the bathroom. Wagging her butt a little, butterflies in her belly as she realized this is it, she was about to get fucked in the ass...

That's why I came here, isn't it? She asked herself...but a part of her knew that it wasn't, not really. As she crossed the threshold, hard clean tile giving away to carpet, Lois Lane couldn't stop trying to work out what had happened in her head. A part of her could still remember staggering into the bathroom...the gloryhole...feel the cock in her mouth...then Blaze had showed up.

Except she could also remember standing at the bar downstairs, sipping the cocktail that Angelica had made for her. The shock and surprise when Blaze had unzipped in front of her, and the reporter had been confronted with that cock. She couldn't remember the words though...Blaze had told her something about the women, but she couldn't remember what she had said, and that was bothering her.

As Lois Lane crawled up onto the bed, her breasts pressed into the covers, knees hanging about a foot off the floor...she wondered if she were going insane. It didn't seem possible to reconcile the different memories she had of the night. Yet here she was, in Blaze's BDSM-themed boudoir, about to get fucked in the ass. So that had to be real, right? She couldn't be back in that filthy club bathroom, preparing to take a dick up her ass where anyone could see her...

Right?

Angelica Blaze's warm hands interrupted that chain of thought. "Comfy, sweetmeat? I know it took a little while, but I assure you the preparations are to make this easier, cleaner, and more enjoyable for us both. You're going to be so much more sensitive now..."

The girlcock rested between the reporter's asscheeks. The reporter could feel her ears burn in embarrassment...although she couldn't say why. Looking around at the bedroom, with its spreader bars and whips and chains on the wall, the cross with the straps, the handcuffs hanging from pegs...there was no-one else in the room except her and Blaze. The dickgirl gently poured lube over her cock, rubbing it back and forth on the reporter's buttcheeks, getting ready for penetration.

So why do I feel like someone is watching? Lois wondered.