End: Lois Does Not Let Them Eat Her Pussy

"N-no! Great Ceasar's ghost, look at yourselves!" Lois Lane said. The reporter's exasperation with the pregnant women had reached a boiling point. "Think! You're trapped in here! Prisoners! You're being held against your will—impregnated—**** to conform to these antiquated feminist ideals! Is that who you really want to be? Barefoot and pregnant? Cunts in a kitchen!?"

Desperately, Lois stared into their eyes, hoping for some recognition, some glimmer of understanding. She had sought these women out, had wanted to find them, but now that she had, Lois was appalled at what was happening to them. It was like some sick joke...and the pregnant women, in their color-coded lingerie, paused and looked at their new "sister" with strangely blank eyes.

"She isn't ready yet," Diana Reynolds said. Her hands were still on Lois Lane's arm.

"She needs to learn her place," Tonya Wong said.

"She's just like us," Mara de la Cruz added.

Jenny Dunlap pulled...and Lois found they had her by arms and legs, carrying the reporter down the hall. The reporter twisted in her grip, and watched a patch of unassuming wall slide away...and revealing a metal chair.

"You are a cunt," Jenny said in a sing-song voice as though reciting something from memory.

"Cunts are made to be fucked," Diana echoed. "You need to learn to care for your pussy."

"Keep yourself presentable to Blaze," Mara said, a vapid smile on her face.

"Bear her children. They are her gift to you." Tonya said, her voice filled with reverence.

Lois Lane fought, but their strength had suddenly become fanatic. Hissing and struggling, Lois was **** into the chair.

"You are to be our sister-wife," Jenny said as she **** clamps on Lois Lane's arms.

"We will reward you when you are good," Diana said, as she clamped the reporter's legs.

"We will punish you when you are bad," Mara said, as she drew and secured straps across the reporter's chest and stomach.

"The harder you fight, the more it will hurt," Tonya Wong said as she began to affix electrodes to the reporter's body...and the Asian woman stared Lois in the eyes, her voice dropping down almost to a whisper. "The more you fight, the less of you will be left."

It was that moment that shocked Lois. The sad, tired eyes of the woman, whose pregnancy was not yet showing. The knowledge that deep beneath whatever programming she had undergone, the real woman remained...or at least a part of her...was more horrifying than thinking of these women as mere biological robots.

A helmet rose up from the back of the chair. Lois tried to fight as the women, working together, strapped the reporter's head down. Small metal hooks pried Lois Lane's eyelids open. The reporter tried and failed to blink.

Tonya gave a sad smile as she settled the helmet over the reporter's head.

"You're going to feel a bit of pain...at the base of your skull," she said. "That's where the the parasites go in. Just...watch what they show you, listen to what they want you to hear. Relax. Don't fight it. Or else..."

Lois didn't hear the rest of the warning. Something hard stabbed just where neck met head. Sharp, small, but cold. Her whole body froze. The inside of the helmet was dark...and then it lit up from within. Music began to play...strange, 50s exotica, jazzy yet subtly discordant, a kind of constant murmur underneath the tones. If Lois concentrated, she could pick out individual words.

"...aGoodCUNT...""...KeepMYpussyClean...""....suckYourCOCKdaddy...""....lickHerKITTY...""...myFuckholeNEEDS...""...gashIsTIREDpleaseFuckMYass...""...cumInMYcuntINEEDtoBePREGNANT...""...aNiceBLOWJOBdarling..."

Light flickered. It was like some 1950s retro slideshow. How to be a good housewife. Only it was the X-rated version. Lois watched the slides slip by, tutorials on dress, makeup, exercise, cooking, bridge, fellatio, cunnilingus, pregnancy, anal sex, cleaning...

Nothing that would normally affect how she thought or acted. Yet inside her brain, demonic parasites were busy mapping and rewiring the reporter's brain. A small computer chip slid into place. Ready to administer certain impulses when certain thoughts were detected. As Lois watched, a sensual warmth flooded her being as she watched the women with their perfect hair on their knees sucking their husband's cock...not neglecting his balls at all...spreading her legs and begging him to empty his seed into her waiting snatch...

Lois noticed that the models in the photos had shifted. The newer, cleaner versions all featured the women who had already undergone the process. She saw Diana Reynolds naked and ironing a suit. Mara de la Cruz under a Formica-top kitchen table sucking a cock. Jenny Dunlap shaving her pussy. Tonya Wong with a sticky chin, eating Diana out as someone pounded her from behind.

Briefly, the reporter wondered if she would feature in the next iteration of this program...and the demonic parasites sent out a chemical signal, and Lois Lane's whole body convulsed in sudden orgasmic delight.

The women standing around watched as their would-be savior was slowly programmed. She would be like them. There was a certainty about it. They rubbed at their pussies an leaned against one another as the chips in their heads made their bodies respond to that thought.

"It...it's going to be all right..." Tonya Wong said, wondering when Blaze would be by to visit them again. "She'll get with the program..."

Lois Lane couldn't hear them...couldn't reflect on the choices that had brought her to this end. She had found the missing women she had been looking for...and if she could have thought about it, perhaps Lois might have wondered who would come to find her, after Lois Lane had gone missing on her night out.