End: Lois Can Cum

Something warm and soft pressed against Lois Lane's asshole. Blaze's hands were prying her cheeks apart, the reporter's immense scrotum dangled between her knees, pink and full as a cow's udder. She couldn't see her own cock, only the chrome cylinder plugged snuggly over top of it. The reporter could see the topless nurses attach straps to that too, so the cold length of it was snug against her belly, held onto the harness.

Lois instinctively tried to clench as the soft thing pushed against her rectum, but there was a hard core there, something stiff enough that with the gobs of clear lubricant her anal barrier slowly, steadily gave way against the slow relentless pressure.

"Don't fight it," Blaze's voice echoed from behind Lois. "Relax. I know you can feel it. You need the release."

It was true. Her massive, swollen testicles ached. There was a point heat somewhere between her legs, beneath the root of her new prick, that felt like it was the size of her fist. It throbbed gently to Lois' beating heart. She could feel the terrible unfamiliar need deep inside of her, past the point of pain, body **** for something. Her cock was hard inside its tight metal sleeve. The harness allowed her to hang almost without effort, but it did nothing to help her get to the point where she could...

Cum. Lois admitted to herself. She had a flash of that other-Lois in the dream, the vision provided by the Black Grail. The nuns had made her kneel as they put her in stocks, wrists and neck bound within a wooden board. Her cock and balls held in a separate board, the orbs reddish-purple, a bowl set out before her to catch the release...and they were doing something behind her, the other-Lois' face flushed, mouth set in a hard line. Across the centuries, Lois felt her heart go out to that other.

They were both about to be buggered.

The reporter felt the hard, hot heat of Blaze's prick slide into her, well-greased, inevitable. Instinctively Lois tried to bite down on the cock-shaped nozzle in her mouth, the spongy plastic or rubber indifferent to her teeth. It was unfamiliar, this intrusion. A little painful, though less than Lois thought it might be, as the head slipped past her barrier.

Dazed, struggling, the cool liquid still dribbling down into her stomach, Lois came to terms with what was happening. She was going to get fucked. If she fought it, she might damage herself...but it was still going to happen. The reporter knew that. So she let her body relax. Go limp. Let her body hang in the harness, swaying slightly as Blaze pressed her cock deeper and deeper into the reporter's colon.

Once or twice, the head actually touched—something. Grazed that terrible, fist-sized point of pressure inside of Lois. The reporter grunted around the cock-hose in her mouth, eyes watering, feeling something dribble down the full length of her dick. It wasn't pleasant, exactly. But she wanted more. She breathed hard in and out her nose, struggling to maintain loose, not to fight it, Blaze's cock seeming to go on forever, deeper and deeper, inching slowly into the reporter...

...and then the hips touched Lois Lane's ass.

"You're tight," Blaze purred, releasing the reporter's asscheeks, running her hands over the reporter's hips. "First time?"

Lois gave an inarticulate grunt.

"Don't worry," the dickgirl said, getting a good grip on the reporter's waist. "The next time I fuck your ass, it'll be as smooth as a ninety-year-old whore's."

There were no words for that. No words at all for a while, as Blaze began to slide her cock in and out of the reporter's asshole. Lois felt sick to her stomach, ugly, used. There was no connection there as Blaze fucked her, nothing mutual about it. She felt like an exercise machine that the dickgirl was using, no more a human being than a knothole in a fence and...

...and she spasmed every time the head of that cock brushed against her throbbing prostate. Her asshole was warm now, fiction building up heat, the little flexible pink rim being pushed in and out by the girth of Blaze's prick, but what was killing Lois was the stimulation to her prostate, the little drops of dribbling jizz she could feel slowly being pushed along the length of her cock.

She was swaying gently in the harness now, the cock moving faster and faster inside of her. Tears fell from the reporter's eyes as weird sensations were washing over her...the cold dribble down her throat, her ass feeling like she had to take a shit, the penetration of Blaze's cock, her own prick hard now, a burning dribbling line all along her penis but still that terrible pressure within her that wasn't releasing, couldn't release.

"Vacuum," Lois heard Blaze order to someone. "I think she's ready."

The cock sped up, the dickgirl slamming her hips into Lois in short, fast strokes, every one of which seemed to push directly into her throbbing prostate. The sleeve on Lois Lane's cock tightened suddenly, head swelling, whole cock painfully stiff, inching forward... The former reporter wanted to scream as an unfamiliar tingle started deep within, some internal barrier broken, ass clamping down instinctively, hips shaking with an **** desire to hump.

And a burning line of jizz traveled the length of Lois Lane's captured cock, not the dribble before, but her first anal orgasm, a massive surge of cum that surged the length of her dick and, though Lois feebly tried to hold it, finally burst out of the tip.

Her whole body shook, fingers pawing at nothing, thighs and calves clamping. She stared down at her legs, the white flow of her first ejaculation traveling down the length of the clear plastic tube. It was like nothing Lois had ever experienced as a woman, intense and localized, her whole world shrinking down to just her cock, the swollen sensitive tip, urethra burning from the **** of the ejaculation, rope after rope spraying into the metal sleeve, only to be whisked away by the hose.

It didn't stop. Lois couldn't pant, **** to breathe through her nose, but her hips kept jerking, testicles swaying slightly, and the cum kept cumming and cumming, rope after salty white rope. The reporter felt herself sag into the harness, all strength going out of her body, all of her concentration focused on the endless ejaculation.

She barely noticed when Blaze slipped out of her aching ass. One of the nurses quickly replaced the dickgirl's hard cock with a smooth plastic cylinder, strapping it in place with soft ties that fitted over the reporter's hips.

"Let her keep going until she's empty," the dickgirl panted. "It might take the rest of the night. Let her sleep in the harness, if she can. Best to get her used to it. Keep an eye on any chafing. This one is going to be a prize milker."

Lois Lane let her head hang as much as the harness allowed. She stared at nothing in particular, eyes unfocused, all attention turned inward. Every time she came, her cock twitched; she could see the steady movement of the steel sleeve that encompassed her cock, like the arm of a metronome. Wondered how often she was ejaculating per second, although even that curiosity quickly eroded, endorphins washing away every conscious thought.

She had seen men like that, at the moment of orgasm. The way they completely lost it, when they finally came. Now she knew why. Now she was living in that moment, stretched out for what seemed like forever. Her balls shifted slightly, harness swinging, and Lois wondered how fast they could make sperm, with an endless supply of nutrients feeding into her stomach.

It was going to be a long, wild night before the dawn...and Lois Lane wasn't going anywhere.