End: Wetnurses

Lois couldn't find her shirt. Her jacket and pants were covered in drying cum. Bra and panties long gone. The heels, though, were in good shape. So she squeezed her ass into the pants, feeling oddly exposed as she put the jacket on over bare shoulders, zipping it up just far enough for modesty's sake.

Blaze was waiting for her, in a black one-piece that hugged every curve like a piece of the night, spotless and perfect. Lois felt tawdry and filthy next to her...but then the dark-haired shemale held out her hand, and their fingers slid together. They exited the bathroom arm-in-arm.

Back into the noise and rush of the club. Music thumped, women gyrated in cages, college students drank and wobbled on the dance floor. Lois felt very distant from it all as her lover guided her to a door marked VIP with a security guard standing in front of it. She didn't even have to nod, he saw her coming and opened it for her.

Lois stepped through into soft lighting, a more subdued music...one of those odd electronic pieces that seem to have no beginning or end...and four women on chairs under spotlights, naked to the waist, their swollen breasts heavy and full. Playing on their smartphones.

"Welcome to the milk bar," Angelica said softly, giving Lois' hand a squeeze.

The reporter blinked. She recognized these women—Diana Reynolds, Mara de la Cruz, Tonya Wong, Jenny Dunlap—but none of them were past a C-cup. All of these women had huge, prominent chests, their nipples and areolae dark and...Lois stepped closer...yes, Diana Reynolds was leaking, a thin stream of white flowing down from her right nipple. Lois stared at in in fascination.

"What...how...why?" Was all she managed to get out.

"Well, we all had our little encounters..." Angelica began. "...but none of them were really interested in, ah..."

"Getting pregnant with your spawn," Lois offered.

"That, yes. But they were broke college students, so when I offered them a job...they accepted. I made a few alterations so that they would begin lactating...you've probably noticed those. That's part of the payment, the increased bust size. All natural." Blaze paused. "They haven't quite 'disappeared,' they've just been spending a lot of time here."

"Doing what?" Lois' voice was incredulous.

"Wetnurses," Blaze ejaculated. "I mean, I was hoping to have a child and it's always better to use natural breast milk rather than formula..."

"I mean here." The reporter let a little irritation into her voice.

"Oh, right. Well, there are some discerning customers that like lactating women—and will pay handsomely to drink from the source—plus it helps them keep the milk coming without recourse to **** or magic..."

Lois shook her head. The worst part was, this was all-too-believable. She remembered when she herself had been a broke college student. Working at a milk bar was better than stripping. Probably paid better, too.

All the time they had been talking, Blaze had been leading them closer and closer...and now Lois was standing right before the women, who smiled at her vacantly, playing on their phones.

"Can I...talk to them?" The reporter asked.

Blaze shrugged. "Be my guest. Hell, if you're thirsty you can latch onto a nipple. They're all on salary, and they get tips like you wouldn't believe. And I hear milk is good for...pregnant women."

Lois licked her lips. She disentangled her hand from Blaze's own. Took a deep breath and reached into her pocket for her own smartphone.

"Hi." The reporter said to Diana Reynolds. The blonde turned to her, setting her amazing rack to jiggling. A warm smile broke out on the woman's face.

"Hi yourself," Diana lifted up her right tit with her left hand, giving it a little squeeze near the nipple. A thin stream of milk shot out, droplets spraying on Lois' jacket. "Thirsty?"

"Maybe later. I'm Lois Lane, a reporter for the Daily Planet. I'd like to interview you..."

It was a weird end to a wild night. And Lois knew when it was over, there were things she would have to deal with—her relationship with Angelica Blaze, the baby that might be growing in her belly already, the article she'd have to write tomorrow—but for right now there was only these women and their stories.