End: Lois Joins The Dickgirl Cult

"Well, you two ladies can go suck all the cock you want, but I'm going to look into this dickgirl cult," the reporter declared. "I might really enjoy being a dickgirl full-time, getting all the cock I want..."

Lois Lane's violet eyes met theirs...and Aisha and Maria withered a little under that gaze.

"I mean...as long as somebody fucks my hungry ass," Aisha said, the black transwoman trying to put on a brave face.

Maria hung on her shoulder. "Aisha, I'll always have cock for your ass. But maybe she's right. It could be fun. I haven't had anybody run a train on me since I graduated highschool..."

The reporter smiled. She had them hooked, the utter and complete sluts.

Aisha and Maria led the way—down into the depths of the building, which had once been a warehouse. Except the corridors and rooms they passed through were older; Lois saw modern concrete give way to red brick, and brick give way to chiseled stone. It was liking descending through all the ages of the city, Metropolis built up over itself decade after decade, century after century, from when the first European colonists landed until now...and after what seemed like forever, though it could not have been more than a few minutes, they came to stone archway guarded by two women in the habit of nuns.

But not like any nuns Lois had ever seen.

Their habits had once been white, but now they were stained and stiff with semen. Holes had been cut at crotch-level in their skirts, from which hard, jutting cocks emerged. The light glinted off the gold of the rings that pierced their rubbery glans, and Lois could see the dark ink of tattooed phrases in Latin down the length of those shafts.

Most disturbing, however, were their faces, framed by those stained wimples. The nun on the right had her eyes sewn shut, black drips of blood or mascara running down her face like tears. The other had her brown eyes open, but her lips were sewn shut with the same crude stitches, dried jizz covering her face and chin.

"Who comes?" the blind nun said. "Who seeks out the Sisters of Sin?"

Aisha and Maria fell back, cocks limp at this bizarre sight, but Lois Lane pushed further.

"I heard this is where the dickgirl **** are made," Lois said. She liked her lips and stared at the silent nun's eyes. "I was thinking of joining."

There was no word between the two...and Lois stared through the open doorway. Despite the ancient appearance of the rooms, she could see electric lights, and what looked like modern laboratory equipment, naked women walking around seeing to various tasks...and Lois recognized some of those women, from the ones that had gone missing, the pictures she had seen on their social media.

"What offering do you bring to the guardians of the gate?" the blind nun said, as she stroked her stiff prick. "I smell a luscious brown ass...and a soft pair of tits, eager to be fucked..."

Aisha and Maria looked at each other. They smirked and stared back at Lois.

"Go on girl," Aisha said as she hitched up her skirt, cock flopping out. "We got this."

The last that Lois Lane saw of them that night, Aisha had bent over to grab her ankles, the blind nun guiding her cock into the warm dark hole by touch, while the silent nune leaned back against the gateway, Maria on her knees before her, warm, soft tits with their pierced nipples wrapped around the dickgirl cock.

Once inside, Lois Lane looked around her in wonder. The whole place stank of semen...and she could see the naked dickgirls seemed to be leaking continually as they went about their tasks. At one table, a slim Asian woman with small breasts and a comparatively slender cock mixed semen in a binker with other chemicals; at another, a Black woman with a fat ass was packaging pills into small plastic sleeves.Under the table before her, a sporty-looking brunette was sucking on the Black dickgirl's cock with the glazed eyes of a calf nursing from its mother.

Lois...

The sound of her name caused the reporter to turn. There was another open doorway, and Lois found herself drawn to it. She stepped forward...and it was not until after she had passed the stone archway that she stopped to think why.

Hands came out from either side and grabbed at the reporter's clothes...but Lois Lane's eyes were focused on the sight that occupied the far end of the room.

It was like a church. There were wooden pews, a rail where parishioners would come to take communion, stained-glass windows set in the walls and lit from behind by electric lights...but where the altar should have been was a throne, seemingly carved from stone...and on that throne, a figure of myth.

Dark horns culred up from a broad brow. Skin the color of fresh blood on parchment was wrapped tight against a tall, lean, lithe body with no spare fat at all. The breasts on the chest were small, the nipples puffy and swollen, a surprisingly delicate pink; dark hair, oily and curled, fell down from the tall head and down past the seated figure's shoulders. Bright eyes, pure white without pupil or iris, glowed from beneath the dark horns, as though twin lights peered out from the deep sockets of a skull. Soft lips were twisted in a Mona Lisa smile.

Yet what commanded the reporter's attention were the cock and balls that occupied the demon's lap. Each teste was the size of a bowling ball, the scrotum darker than the rest of her skin, with dark purple veins that stood out from the surface. The cock that stood up was not unusual in size...it was among the largest human cocks that Lois had personally seen, but not some monstrous cuntbuster...but the shape was like nothing Lois had ever seen. It writhed as she watched, the flared head undulating like a cobra opening its hood, and the Y-shaped glans opened and closed as thought it smelled her.

All this the reporter saw, took in...yet smeow she found it difficult to put all the separate pieces together. It felt like a dream, as the two attendant nuns cut the last of her clothes off of her with rusty scissors, and the reporter stood there quite naked, her cock hard and quivering.

Come here, Lois. Do not be afraid. I have been waiting for you.

The reporter stepped forward, as though sleepwalking. The scent of sperm was strongr now, and it made her head light and dizzy. Dimly she was aware that there were monitors set up around the seated figure's thrown, showing footage from the club's security cameras.

Yes. I've been watching you since you arrived. I had hoped you would make your way here, freely and of your own will. I have answers to all of your questions.

Lois stepped past the wooden rail...and she realized, for the first time, that the mouth set in that enigmatic half-smile never moved. The words she heard sounded directly in her head.

The closer our communion, the easier it is for me to slide into your thoughts. We will be very close, you and I.

The reporter stood before that throne, and she saw a single black drop bead the tip of that strange, stiff cock. It oozed down the crimson cleft of the glans like molasses, the darkness seeming to drink in the light.

All those who partake of my body and blood become a part of me, and I of them. You are already one of them Lois. They are your sisters, and you will know them. hey will tell you their stories, and you will write your article. Allay the fears of those fools who might hamper me. And in exchange...you will know the pleasures only I can give you.

"Pleasures," Lois said, voice hoarse, throat dry. Her cock was so stiff now it was painful. Her temples throbbed, and she shook. A part of her wanted to run, to escape...but how can you escape when your cock twitches you forward? When something throbs deep within you, demanding release? Lois had an inkling then of how men might feel, who had not been able to cum for long weeks or months.

Pay homage to your desires.

The reporter's knees hit the step at the base of the throne, painfully. Her hands raised and wrapped around the massive sack, the heat of those balls against her sweaty palms like sticking her hand into an open oven. For just one moment, Lois Lane hesitated...knowing that if she did as she was commanded, then she was lost, in some fundamental way she only dimly understood..and then the hands of the attendants were on her neck and the back of her head, and the reporter did not resist much as her lips touched that black bead of demonic cum...and then opened, to take as much of the cock inside of her as possible.

The demon Blaze smiled smugly. The key to a trap was to have the correct bait; she had dangled secrets before Lois Lane, and the reporter's insatiable curiosity and her own tainted **** had done the rest.

Your night out is over, Lois Lane. Now begins your new life, as a Sister of Sin.

Lois Lane heard her...but down between her legs, the warm mouth of an attendant nun was fastened on her dick, and her own mouth was full of throbbing crimson cock...and there was no way she could answer as she lost herself for what might have been hours or forever.