End: It Does Not Work

As a young woman, Lois Lane had sometimes closed her eyes and imagined the cock she was sucking was something else. An ice-pop, a banana, any of the things she had trained with before having her first real, live dick inside her mouth. It had worked a little, at the time. Helped her get over the psychological hump of having a man's thing inside her mouth.

When eating ass, however, Lois Lane couldn't pretend it was anything else. Even clean as it was, the knowledge that she was sticking her tongue in someone's poop-shoot...and that Lex Luthor of all people was filming this! Made her skin crawl. Reluctantly, Lois tried to continue, licking and kissing, wanting to just eat some pussy and be done with it, vowing to brush her teeth for an hour once she got home...

Back In The Monitoring Room

"Mr. Luthor? Subject's red kryptonite flux has flatlined," a technician said.

"Already?" The bald villain stepped over to the screen and double-checked the readings. "Hmm. Normally the changes take hours or days to fade. Of course, the effects of this particular isotope of red kryptonite are mostly psychologically..."

"Stress levels in the subject are spiking," another technician said. "She's not happy about eating ass, sir."

Luthor grunted. One hand stroked his gleaming pate.

"It appears this experiment is a failure, then." He stepped over to the control board and flipped a switch. "Time to end the experiment."

Lois Lane was still unhappily rimming the woman's asshole when a red light burst throughout the room...and she felt the tell-tale body-wide pins-and-needles sensation. She had the sudden, modestly unpleasant feeling of a burning in her frontal lobes, like the exact inverse of an ice cream headache...but she could see no sign of change on her body.

The gas that flooded the chamber shortly thereafter was mostly odorless. Lois blinked heavily, swayed, suddenly too tired to continue to lick the woman's ass. Her head felt fuzzy...her balance uncoordinated. The naked reporter stumbled about, trying to keep her eyes open.

Then she crumpled to the floor.

Navy SEALS could hold their breath for up to five minutes. Luthor kept the gas in the chamber for a full ten before the air-recyclers pumped it out, and technicians in biohazard suits came in to remove the **** inhabitants. With exaggerated care, Lois Lane was re-dressed in club clothes, her wallet and smartphone returned to her.

The particular variety of red kryptonite Luthor exposed her created retrograde amnesia. Combined with a liberal dousing of her clothing with whiskey, and Lois Lane would, the next morning, believe herself the subject of an alcoholic blackout. No memory of the club, or what she found there.

He watched on the monitor as the **** reporter, smelling of booze, was shuffled into a LexCorp cab and driven to her apartment building, where the helpful cabby would assist the **** reporter to her door. Mentally, the bald villain replayed the events of the night...all the decisions Lois Lane had made, her reactions to various stimuli. Knowing the reporter as he did, Luthor had no doubt that she would be back...and he needed a plan in place for that.

Of course, what Lex Luthor could not know was that the sexual inversion induced in the reporter by the first piece of kryptonite she was exposed to would not wear off.

On the floor of her apartment, Lois Lane came gradually to wakefulness. The inside of her skull seemed two sizes too small, and a mad dwarf was drilling right behind her left eye. Reeking of tequila, body aching with bruises she didn't remember the source of, mouth tasting like something died in it, the reporter crawled on her hands and knees into her bathroom. Ten minutes of being messily sick and three glasses of water and a furious tooth-brushing and tongue-scraping later, she felt better...if not exactly human.

Dizzily, as she stripped off her ****-sodden club clothes, the reporter tried to recall the events of the night...but it was like probing the gap where a tooth had been pulled. Lois could remember nothing beyond taking the cab to the club. She shook her head and stumbled into the shower, letting the water run cold before it went hot. Her hands numbly rubbed soap over her pits, her chest...down between her legs...

A tingle hit Lois there. It had been months since she had felt another human being's touch, and sometimes that was all it took to arouse her. More than once over the last few weeks she had rubbed her clit with frantic need in the shower, thinking about Superman...but now...the mental image of the Man of Steel didn't seem to be doing it for her. She shivered under the hot water, fingers flitting between her legs with a sudden **** need...but the mental image that came to her suddenly, that made her knees shake and drew a hoarse gasp from her lips was utterly unexpected.

The star-spangled panties that gripped that crotch. The supply waist and long thighs. The pretty pussy pussy that was tucked away in there, out of sight but never out of mind.

"Oh...Wonder Woman!" Lois moaned.

She bit her lip. Eyes squeezed tight. In her mind's eye she focused on the generous well of the Amazon's breasts beneath her costume, the long bare legs, muscular arms and shoulders. A real woman...with a wet pussy just dying for another woman's touch...and as Lois Lane's fingers blurred on her joy button she imagined what she would do if Wonder Woman was right here.

Across the world, Wonder Woman felt a little tingle down her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. It was like someone had walked across her grave...and yet for some reason she felt a tingle of warmth touch her cheeks. The Amazon wondered what could have caused that...

Up on Olympus, Aphrodite's laugh was like the tinkle of silver bells...smiling as manipulated the mortals. Lex Luthor had not yet begun to question the source of the kryptonite, or why he had exposed Lois Lane to it. Yet as far as the goddess of love was concerned, everything was going exactly according to her plan. It only remained to bring Lois and Wonder Woman together...but that is another story.