End: "...I'm not letting you go until I'm knocked up."

It wasn't just the words themselves that sent a shiver down Lois Lane's spine, but the way Mercy Graves said it. For perhaps the first time the reporter felt a sense of helplessness, how completely she had put herself under the rapacious woman's power.

"Lex is going to be looking for you. He hates to lose one of his precious experiments. It isn't safe for you out there," Mercy said, as her hands wandered up to Lois Lane's neck, her lips kissing Lois Lane's face. "So you really don't have anywhere to go, not for a while. A nice little vacation. All the pussy you want. Think of it almost like a...honeymoon."

The woman's smile was a little crazed. Lois stared up at her as though seeing her for the first time. What kind of woman would willingly work for Lex Luthor? What did she actually know about Mercy Graves? Too little, the reporter knew as the pussy squeezed.

"People...people will come looking for me," Lois swallowed. "Superman..."

"Hmm, maybe." Mercy said. "I wonder what he's going to say when he sees his precious girlfriend is hung like a horse and has been acting as my personal stud? Maybe he won't want a beautiful freak like you anymore."

The words were cruel, and Mercy seemed to know she'd gone too far. Her grin faltered, the neutral mask slipping back into place. She paused in her humping, though her pussy kept squeezing and relaxing, squeezing and relaxing. Milking Lois on toward her inevitable climax.

"It's a game Lane. Just a game. I know you don't...want me. Like that." One hand moved from the reporter's **** neck to push the hair away from Lois Lane's face. "And you are in danger. I'll let you go. I just want...something to remember our time together."

The mask slipped. The grin returned.

"Someone to remember you by."

Mercy's hands moved to grasp the back of Lois Lane's neck, pulling the reporter against her bonds as the muscular bodyguard resumed a frenzied humping, slamming her hips down painfully into the reporter's crotch, stabbing the dick as deep as it could go into her cunt, and Lois couldn't imagine that it was pleasurable for either of them except...except...she could see the light in Mercy Graves' eyes and knew she was starting at a genuine masochist, reveling in the mixture of pleasure and pain, and Lois herself could feel the need building inside of, hips striving instinctively to drive her cock in even deeper, as though she would shove it straight through the woman's cervix and spit her seed like machine bullets straight into her womb.

Then Lois really was cumming, the hot spunk exploding out of the tip of her dick, and the collar was **** her and Mercy Graves bent down and pressed her mouth against the bound reporter's, as though to suck out her last breath.

To lay there, finally, Lois Lane still bound by the chains to the bed, Mercy Graves curled up on top of her.

"I know you're not mine," Graves said. "That you don't love me. That's okay. I'm used to it. Just stay with me a little while. A week, maybe two...I've got everything we need here. Food, water, viagra, pregnancy tests..."

The woman traced a line of sweat down Lois Lane's sternum with her index finger. She laughed gently to herself.

"...your night out is over, Lane. But your night in is just beginning."

The reporter had nothing to say to that.