End: Lois Confesses

"So..." Lois said, the young acolyte's squirt dripping from her lips. "...I have to tell you something."

She took it well, all things considered. No histrionics, no screaming for help or threats to go tell 'the Mistress.' They got dressed in their street clothes and left through the back door, Lois still limping. Her pussy was still incredibly painful.

Her name was Julie Lee, and she was a religious studies major at Metropolis University. The cult-thing had been a kind of work/study thing. The women Lois had been looking for had been sent off to a retreat in Arizona.

"Between the two of us," Julie whispered. "I think they just do peyote and fuck all the time. The Mistress tries to get them to save it all for the rituals but how many people get into Satanism to not get laid at every opportunity?"

She had names, phone numbers, addresses, recordings. All the information Lois needed for her article and then some. All she wanted was one little favor.

In the reporter's apartment, Julie stripped out of her clothes. Lois felt a little more self-conscious about stripping down, but it was nothing that Julie hadn't seen before.

"Fuck me with that giant red cock!" The young Asian woman said, chugging a bottle of water and bouncing down on Lois Lane's bed. "I want you to fucking split me in two!"

Lois swallowed, staring at the huge crimson dildo they had taken from beneath the statue. While she had her misgivings, she really couldn't turn the young woman down. Although she hoped that this evening wouldn't end with them both limping into the emergency room at the crack of dawn.

There wasn't a drop of lube in the house, so Lois ended up digging out the Canola oil. She rubbed the clear yellow ooze into the red dildo with increasing concern. The thing was smaller than the statue's horsecock, but it was still as big as her forearm, with a lovingly-sculpted head at the end the size of her fist.

The reporter remembered, as she rubbed the slick head up and down the pink slit, how "Canola" had been invented because the actual oil was pressed from rapeseed. Calling it **** was a bad marketing move. Lois could appreciate that as her slick hands grabbed the crossbars of the crimson cock. About a foot of hard cock was about to disappear up that itty bitty pussy.

"Are you ready?" She asked. Julie, on her third bottle of water, gave a thumbs up.

"Here we go," Lois said, pressing forward.

Slowly, steadily, the reporter pushed the cock forward. Just getting the head in required a bit of muscle, the pink flesh of the pussy stretched so taught over the smooth head that Lois thought it was going to break. Julie shuddered and was breathing hard, coughing as she kept trying to drink, but urged Lois on.

So the reporter pressed harder. Little by little, the scarlet shaft shrank into the stuffed slit. Despite herself, Lois couldn't help but watch in fascination. It was like watching someone give birth in reverse. Even though she doubted that the small woman could take the whole thing—there was already apparent distension in her stomach where the head of the dildo was pressing up the flesh—already half the thing was in her, and she was taking it like a champ.

Julie reached down with one hand, fiddling with her clit, and she began to urge the reporter on.

"Fuck me with it Lois! Fuck me! Make me take it. Ooooh!"

Excited despite herself, the reporter began to pull and push the crimson cock in and out of her, just a little. The pussy was slick with oil and its own juices, and it moved a lot easier than Lois thought it would. She began to lean into it, as Julie's finger became a blur on her love button, wondering how much more the young woman could take—

Then and there, Julie screamed, thighs tensing, nipples hard as rocks. Yet what caught Lois unprepared was the pale stream of urine that shot out of her urethra, right into her face.

This time, the reporter didn't sputter. Just closed her eyes and waited for Julie to finish her golden shower, the young woman's orgasm sputtering out as she was nearly split in town on the diabolic dildo. Lois Lane hoped she wasn't getting used to this, but realized that despite what people claimed, getting pissed on wasn't quite as bad as all that.

"We really need to work on your bladder control," Lois commented. "Or else get you a diaper."

"Oooh," Julie said, collapsing backwards into the reporter's bed, utterly fucked out. "Kinky."

Which was not anything like what Lois Lane thought would happen on her night out.

But then again, she considered, leaving her young lover impaled on the scarlet sex toy as she limped into the kitchen for an icepack for her wounded pussy. At least I got my story. I solved the mystery of the missing women. Everything else is gravy.