Epilogue: A Hope In Hell

They do sing songs in hell, for cruel is that realm and full of terrible laughter. For long hours past counting, Lois Lane was subject to the endless refrains of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." The poppy tune had at first been a pleasant background noise to the first dozen cocks she had sucked, bobbing her head airly in time to the pulsing beat, the voice in her ears so light and fuzzy and fun...

Yet even the greatest pleasures can grow monotonous over time, and while the erstwhile reporter's attention span was nowhere near what it once had been, as time passed and her jaw ached, the endless repetition of the ditzy jingle made the raven-haired slut feel as though the few brains she had left were about to melt out of her ears. Yet her head kept bopping to the beat, bobbing along the frankly unimpressive mushroom-tip that had been poked into her glass prison.

When the music stopped, her head slammed into the glass wall. There was a brief, exciting moment as the cock hit the back of her throat, something warm and sticky pumping down into her belly. The deflating prick withdrew hurriedly from her lips and Lois sat back, rubbing her forehead.

There were no new cocks. No music. She stared confusedly out through the clear walls of her prison, mouth sucking gently on air for a few minutes out of sheer muscle memory. Beyond...she had not really caught more than a glimpse beyond the cocks she had been sucking. She had an impression of a city, strange and confusing, and beyond that, mountains...and no sun, no stars overhead.

There was a sound of thunder. Bright light burst overhead. Something hit the top of her glass prison with a hard, wet smack that sent cracks all the way down the walls. Lois looked up at a broken red body, the tip of the limp dick poking through the topmost hole. Wondered if she should try to climb up and suck it...

And then the body was brushed aside, and Lois saw a face...eyes burning red with a terrible rage...but as they locked on her they softened to a familiar, comforting blue. She had seen those eyes before. A name floated up from deep in the back of her mind, **** itself past cum-caked lips, voice soggy and long-unused.

"Superman?"

He lifted the top of her glass prison away and floated down to her, red cape gathered in his hands. She trembled, not sure whether she could believe if this was real, or just another trick. Then he was standing right in front of her, his arms pulling her close to his broad muscled chest, the cape covering her nakedness...and she smelled something, light Old Spice and sun-dried laundry. Stupid tears fell over her cheeks, her arms wrapping around him, hugging him back.

"Superman."

Lois Lane cried. Her feet left the ground. They began to climb, gaining height. Straight up. Faster than a speeding bullet.