End: By Taking Her Foot Up His Ass

Lois Lane had no idea, when her night out began, how it would go. She had imagined herself dealing with criminals, interviewing patrons, maybe uncovering a human trafficking operation or underground brothel. Yet all of that had gone right out the window. Her head swam as if she was intoxicated...and her plan was coming together.

All thanks to Jimmy Olsen.

Who was currently on his hands and knees, pants down around his knees. The tip of Lois Lane's left heel was pressed against the young man's pert anus, still lubed up from the rusty trombone. Lois had made sure that the photographer's embarrassing position was clearly viewable by the camera.

"Beg, you pathetic ginger prick!" Lois barked, all part of the part. "Beg for my heel up your ass!"

Jimmy babbled something incomprehensible. Not that it mattered to Lois. Her foot was going up his ass one way or another. Balanced on her other foot, back against the door of the stall, Lois Lane had her smartphone out as if to record the whole thing.

Except Lois wasn't recording. As her heel sank slowly between the paste-pale cheeks of Jimmy Olsen, Lois contacted a friend. A hacker extraordinaire.

Oracle: I'm cracking their system now. Keep the show going for as long as you can.

LoisLane: Will do.

"You like that, Jimmy?" Lois said, voice loud enough that she hoped any hidden speakers would pick it up. "You like being my little bitch? Tell me how much you love it!"

"I love it...I love it...oooh..." Jimmy pressed his forehead against the floor as the thin heel sank deeper into his greedy ass. His dick, which had cum earlier, hung limp and useless between his legs. The reporter grinned savagely, and she knew in her heart that this wasn't just mugging for a camera. A part of her enjoyed this act of power over Jimmy, just as a part of her had relished the bit of perversion earlier. Not that she would ever want to fuck Jimmy...but to tease him mercilessly like this.

Lois pulled her heel out until only the steel tip was still inside, and then she tugged downward. Jimmy gave a gasp and moan, and his hips shifted until his dripping dick touched the filthy floor. Such a shame after he had just washed his cock, to get it all filthy again...but that gave Lois an idea.

"Lay down on the floor. Legs spread! I want that cock and balls on the floor, sticking out toward me!"

He did as he was told. Lois couldn't tell if Jimmy was just that utterly cowed, or if he was so into this that he would do anything. Maybe a bit of both. She'd always suspected him of having submissive tendencies. After his little stunt earlier, he was certainly a pervert.

Lois took her heel completely out of his ass. She let her toe rest on his soft, fragile balls. The reporter knew if she put her weight on them, they'd squish into jelly. She could castrate him, right here and now. Yet that wouldn't serve her purpose at all.

"You like being bullied, don't you Jimmy?" Lois asked. "Like being dominated?"

"Yes. Oh God, yes," He shuddered, face-down on that filthy bathroom floor, hands clenched into fists.

"I'll bet you like it up the ass, too. You want it, don't you Jimmy? Something big and hard up your little boipussy?"

The young man's shoulders clenched...but she saw the ginger head nod, ever so slightly.

"Well that's good, Jimmy. Because I've got something for you."

The pointed toe of Lois Lane's shoe touched his anus. Already soft and somewhat relaxed from the earlier penetration. Yet the reporter's foot was much wider. The angle was different, too. Lois had to shift forward, brace herself against the sink, so that she could bring her strength to bear as she slowly...achingly slowly...pushed her foot forward. Wiggled it a little, and her heart sped up each time, as she heard the sexy moan of the helpless male bitch beneath her feet.

By the time Lois Lane's phone bleeped to confirm that Oracle had complete ownership of the club's computer system's, Lois Lane's toes had disappeared up Jimmy Olsen's ass, and the taut pink line of his sphinter was a warm line against the exposed skin of Lois Lane's foot. With the tiniest pressure, she shifted forward. There was a little something there, like a walnut underfoot. She was pretty sure it was his prostate...and as she stepped on it, Jimmy uttered a sound like a cow mounted by her first bull, and white drops squeezed out of his flaccid prick.

Oracle: I've got it. Get out now. I'll send you the details later.

Lois Lane wasn't so cruel as to pull her foot out all at once. She even helped the flush-faced, trembling redhead to stand, and half-carried him out of the club. There was a cab there, and they got in...Jimmy turned onto his side, obviously too sore to sit on his violated ass. The reporter patted her lap, and Jimmy laid his head down.

She gave the driver her address.

"You'll stay with me tonight, Jimmy," Lois said smoothly. "I'll put some ointment on it. We wouldn't want it to hurt all night, would we? Of course, if you want to avoid injury in the future, you'll have to take care of your boipussy better. Keep it clean. Ready. I've got a little plug you can use. It's just perfect..."

By the time Lois Lane got home, Oracle had downloaded all of the files on Lex Luthor's operation to her laptop, and alerted the Justice League. By morning, the Daily Planet would run her article on the front page—LEX LUTHOR IN HUMAN TRAFFICKING SCAM—and Jimmy Olsen would be sound asleep on her couch, a little plug up his ass.

Oracle, in her tower, would watch the video from the bathroom camera. She had made sure to erase it from all the archives, but had kept her own copy. For personal reasons. Her hand slipped down between her legs, surprised at how wet she was. A part of her wondered what it might be like...if Nightwing would be interested in that kind of thing. She couldn't do the foot thing, but if she wore a strap-on, he could lower that perfect ass down. Fuck himself on her silicone shaft. That idea was exciting...

...but what happened to Lois and Jimmy, and Oracle and Nightwing, is another story.