Degrading

The cock itself was...like dicksucking practice. The cybercock, for all its sophistication, was just plastic and metal, and gave nothing to back to her in terms of response. Lois Lane wrapped her lips around her teeth and slid her tongue under the vents, gathering the microscopic crimson crystals and sucking them into her throat, where the mucous membranes would transfer the radioactive dust to her brain. The reporter was on her knees, fellating the cock eagerly, but it was the eagerness of the addict, not of the slut.

If it hadn't been attached to Lex Luthor, Lois wouldn't have minded at all.

But it was, and she could feel those eyes on her. Whenever she took the cock deep, to let that gas into her throat, she had to stop herself before her nose touched his skin, the veins beneath it looking green and unhealthy. There was a sour, medicinal smell to his body that reminded her of visits to chemotherapy patients—sanitary and sickly all at once—and she wondered how much of his cancerous flesh they'd had to carve out before he'd attached this pathetic prosthetic pecker to his pelvis.

Yet she could feel his eyes on her, drinking in the sight of her utter degradation...and even though Lois Lane knew what she was doing and who she was doing it to...she couldn't stop.

The tingle in her pussy deepened as the **** took effect, and her mind began to dissociate from the act. It was only oral sex, after all. Perfectly natural. Nothing wrong with getting a little something for it.

Hell, I could probably charge for this...and it really isn't much different from how I was smoking the crystal K earlier, is it?

It was almost like her mind was becoming clearer. No more pesky conscience or inhibitions. Lois sucked harder, eager for more, wanting to follow the experience as far as she could go. Suck by suck, all the tattered shreds of her goody-goody nature were torn away again, and Lois reveled in the sense of power that brought her...

"Enough," Luthor said. "I think you're ready."