End: Lois Lane Forgets Why She Came Here Tonight

They were just getting started.

Maria's box of toys seemed endless. The young woman with the hungry smile seemed insatiable. Yet Lois Lane found her own libido off the charts. No matter how many times she came...no matter what Maria did to her...the reporter found herself wanting more.

Early on in her career, Lois had interviewed a staff psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. Not the supervillain wing, but one devoted to those with sexual disorders. She'd seen a afflicted with nymphomania, trapped in a straitjacket, bent over like a contortionist with her ankles behind her head, mindlessly licking her own pussy. The flesh of which had looked raw and painfully swollen.

"It's a compulsion," the doctor had told her. "'Nymphomania' is a misnomer. It's not even that she enjoys sex, she just can't stop. Men and women alike used and abused her for it. Yet she couldn't stop. It's not just a psychological issue, there's a neurological basis. We're hoping with therapy and the right ****, we can make progress in controlling her compulsions. Even if we can help her, it's going to be a hell of a time putting her life back together. The things she did before she was arrested..."

Lois Lane had locked eyes with the woman as she ate her own pussy. Tired, exhausted eyes. It had shaken Lois more than anything else she had seen on that trip. The infinite weariness of a Sisyphus doomed to lick their own clit for all eternity.

Sometime late in the night, Lois Lane found herself staring into the mirror. Her own violet eyes had that look to them. Dimly, she was aware of things happening around her. Happening to her. Cold metal probes on her skin. Between her legs.

"Body temperature is optimal," a strident male voice, calm and confident. Lois Lane recognized Lex Luthor's tones. "Inserting..."

Something touched Lois, deep within. There was a short, sharp pain. Her mouth opened to scream.

Then Maria's cunt settled on her face. The young woman was covered in sweat. Shaking with barely contained excitement, or perhaps exhaustion. With one hand, she wiped the perspiration from the reporter's forehead. Her smile blotted out the fact that they were somewhere else. Lois had caught sight of mirrors, medical equipment, stainless and sanitized.

Now there was only her, only the heat of her pussy on Lois Lane's face. The taste of her tangy juices as they dripped into Lois Lane's mouth. Trickled down the reporter's throat. The smell of that cunt filled her mind and drove out every other thought. Lois couldn't tell what Lex Luthor was doing to her body. The very thought of him was forgotten as her lover began to moan. An erotic thrill ran down the exhausted reporter's spine like the first tremor that precedes an earthquake.

"Make me cum," Maria said, her voice low and husky. "Make me cum and I'll make you cum and cum and cum..."

The words pounded into Lois Lane's head like nails. Like the wires that Lex Luthor fed into her ears to touch her brain. The small changes he made in her body to mimic, as closely as possible, the physiological and biochemical characteristics recorded in cases of sexually obsessed patients at Arkham Asylum. By the time dawn came, the exhausted reporter was helped into a cab, the events of the night a sapphic blur. As her tired hand fumbled with the key for her door, she couldn't remember why she had gone to the club that night...only the feel of Maria's nipple against her tongue, the hand that had stretched her ass to breaking...

The key slid into the lock. An electric shock went through the reporter's body and she moaned, uncontrollably. Staggered into her own kitchen, tore at her clothes.

The door didn't even close as she collapsed to the floor, four fingers buried in her swollen pussy. She didn't care if any of her neighbors saw her there. Eyes rolled up into the back of her head, tongue out. her free hand found its way to her ass. Moaned louder as she pushed three fingers into the red raw and aching ashole, which had taken such **** over the course of the night.

Dimly, as dawn broke through the window of her balcony, Lois Lane realized she couldn't stop. Not that she didn't want to stop, didn't want to drag herself into the shower or the bed. But absolutely could not stop. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own...and her animalistic grunt as she kicked and squirmed on the floor, in full view of anyone that might walk past in the hallway, was the first battle in a long and difficult struggle.