Dress Her As Befits A Minion

Unable to resist now, Lois Lane was lifted into a sitting position. She grimaced at the green thong panties that looked like it was made out of spinach leaves. They were altogether too skimpy, the thin fabric strip so tight that the reporter's ass cheeks were bared and her labia were clearly exposed on either side—but it helped hold in the control spud that stuffed her poor pussy.

Then came the green half-cup bra that left the reporter's nipples exposed...the sandals with three-inch heels like thorns that the reporter wobbled around in, her calves already threatening to cramp up. Elbow-length green gloves without fingertips...a domino mask like five green leaves with two holes cut out, affixed to the reporter's face with spirit gum...and then, almost as an afterthought, her black hair was tied back with small vines, and an exotic flower tucked in front of her right ear.

The reporter stood there, feeling utterly humiliated and exposed. Her nipples were hard, her stuffed pussy was leaking, and she had no idea how to walk in these sandals. She stood stiffly, cheeks burning, eyes staring out through that mask as Ivy walked around her and tapped her chin.

"Not bad," the villain said. "But it needs a certain something."

Her hand smacked the reporter's buttocks and Lois let out a little yelp, more from shock than pain.

"She looked like a weed-themed stripper," one of Ivy's goons said.

The redhead turned toward her...and a terrible smile creased the villain's face.

"Yes, exactly. That's just what we're going for. Now, what we need to complete the look is..."