End: Don't Drink The Cum, Try To Escape

The reporter pointedly ignored the cum faucet as she examined the cell. There were no seams in floor, wall, or ceiling except for the mirrored wall...so either she was teleported in here, or the giant glass wall slid open. Lois Lane decided the latter was more likely; if only because if she had been teleported in here, all she could do was drink the water out of the toilet and hope Superman would come save her before she died of hunger.

Lois rapped her knuckles on the mirror. There was a slight echo...which suggested an empty space behind it. She carefully measured out the length of the wall with her steps, knocked at regular intervals. Noted how it sounded less hollow near the edges, which is where presumably the frame and moving assembly were.

She moved to the center of the room. Throwing herself straight at the glass probably wouldn't work...and her gaze fell to the mattress.

Ten minutes later, the futon was in shreds. Thick bands of cloth were wrapped around the naked reporter's hands, and she gave a few experimental blows to the middle of the glass. It didn't even shudder beneath her blows, but Lois wasn't looking to break it...just to confirm that she could hit it without injury.

The next part was the hardest. Lois Lane had interviewed prisoners before...and there were things they told her which didn't go into her articles. How to buy **** inside. Murders. One woman there for life had told Lois how she had killed her cellmate, and over the course of a night torn her body apart and flushed it piece by piece down the toilet, except for the skull, which wouldn't fit.

One thing the reporter had learned was how, with a ceramic toilet, if you stood on top of it and hit it hard enough...

Lois felt the impact all the way up her arm. Water gushed out onto the floor, along with broken shards of pottery. She picked up the biggest, sharpest piece; the wadded cloth kept it from scratching her hands.

The ceramic, sharp as it would, could scratch the mirror. Lois Lane saw the grim set of her own mouth as she worked to score the mirror, first in a rough square, and then another and another, the lines overlapping. She could also see the cum dispenser behind her, on the wall. All the motivation she needed to work harder. Minutes ticked by, as the naked reporter worked up a sweat bringing the sharp shard down on the glass again and again. The reporter's hope was that the window was thin enough. This was how cat burglars did it, after all...albeit with much better tools. Cut a little, then apply pressure, pop it right out.

Maybe hours went by. Lois Lane lost track...but eventually she got to the point where she could see the furrows deep enough and thick enough to get her fingernails in.

She dropped the shard in what was left of the mattress. Backed herself up until her naked buttocks were pressed against the bare concrete wall.

Ten feet wasn't much of a distance for a run up. But if you run as hard as you can...and hit the wall with all your mass behind it...

The wall shuddered.

Lois Lane staggered back, stunned. She pressed her palms against the wall, took a deep breath.

Leaped forward.

Again...and again. No-one stopped her. Lois Lane couldn't see that what she was doing had any effect, but it was all she had. The steady impact of her body against the ungiving wall became her entire universe. Until her pulse rushed in her ears, and pain flared through her body.

It was almost a surprise when she crashed through...

Instinctively, Lois closed her eyes and brought her head down. Her forearms hit the bare concrete floor, and she had sense enough to roll with the impact, she came up and lifted her tired arms, ready to fight or flee...

...and found herself in a cell identical to the one that she had just left. Except that the toilet and mattress were intact.

Even the cum dispenser was the same. The reporter's shoulder's sank and she panted, picked her way carefully through the shards of broken glass on the floor, and collapsed on the mattress. Her swollen labia throbbed and her stomach rumbled. The reporter closed her eyes and tried not to think about the hunger...and the only thing she had in here to assuage it.

Lois Lane's night out was going to last a little longer than she had hoped.