Epilogue: Cumqueen Lois Lane

Nervousness ate at the reporter's belly as she paced the set. She wore a robe, because they kept the set cool. Diana told her that once the set lights were on, the whole studio would heat up and she wouldn't notice it, but right now the reporter's nipples were poking headlights in the robe.

The women were busy. The sets were set up. The throne room, the toilet stall with the broken mirror set up over the seat with holes drilled into the walls of various sizes. The smallest would permit a cock to slip through, your typical gloryhole, but there were larger holes. Lois remembered the script...they had talked about what they would do. It was important to strike that balance between arthouse aesthetic and what Tonya Wong called "gonzo sensuality."

"They want to see you prim, proper, pure, even haughty," the Asian woman said. "And they want to see that utterly degraded, in a way that can't be faked. Not just fucked, they've seen a thousand women fucked. They want to see you broken. Taken to your limits. They want to see you suffer, and suffer, and when you've hit your bottom you'll be this utterly pathetic thing...and then," she smiled. "You wash off the cum, and you're once more the prim and proper woman. They need to see that redemption, the utter perfection. They need to see that a woman can be defiled and made clean."

The reporter could get it, at least a little. In the weeks following her expose, the reporter had felt the eyes on her. Heard the whispers, the accusation. the traffic on the internet was hateful; she'd had to block large chunks of social media, and her father hadn't spoken to her at all. Not until she had called him up, to tell him about the positive pregnancy test...and that had been a hard, strained conversation. Her friends, her true friends, at work hadn't said anything...Clark Kent and JImmy Olsen and Perry White stuck by her, treating her no different from before.

Yet Angie had gotten the ball rolling on the new script, and Lois had attended the pre-production meetings, saying yay or nay as they refined the script. By the time she had arrived here, Lois had convinced herself that this is what she wanted. something to prove to the world that she was not ashamed of what she had done, who she was. Except now...

"I can't believe I'm going to do this," Lois said aloud.

"You ready?" Angelica came up behind her. She hadn't bothered with a robe. Her arms came around the reporter wrapping Lois in a hug, hands resting down on her stomach. Lois wasn't showing yet, but it was only a matter of time. The reporter knew it was better to do this now, before the pregnancy advanced.

Lois Lane took a deep breath and let it out. I must not fear, fear is the mind killer..

She ran through the mantra, and felt better. Blaze's hands grasped her robe, and Lois let her pull it off.

"Yes," Lois said. "Let's do this."

Scene 1.

The imperious queen, held to the throne by her traitorous maids, as the Black Knight came over her tits.

Scene 2.

The queen, stripped, dragged by her hair to the dungeon toilet. One of the maids pins her down, head in the toilet, laughing. The other squats on her face, the recumbent queens tongue thrust into the woman's twat. Closeup as the piss squirts out, the woman's cheeks filling, mouth overflowing. Hands grasp her neck, and the camera zooms in on that soft throat as it gulps, the hot urine sliding down her throat.

Scene 3.

The ****. The cameras are positioned over the stall to capture the action as the queen's head is **** into the toilet, while the Black Knight thrusts harshly into her ass. The woman fights, air bubbles rising from the water, and she flushes the toilet, the boom mics catching her gasps for breath as the Black Knight seeds her.

Scene 4.

Days later. The once noble queen chained to the toilet. Dried jizz covers her face, fresh bruises overlay old ones on her body. Her cunt is a sticky, disgusting mess, caked with sperm. She cups water from the toilet and laps it from her palm. Her stomach grumbles. A cock is thrust through the hole, and with a mix of hunger and trepidation, she crawls over to it, sucking on it hungrily.

Scene 5.

The queen screams as the hand from the wall slides up her ass. The maids hold her down, in their borrowed finery, forcing the woman to remain as her ass is spread, and the arm continues to go deeper...and deeper...a spurt of blood, from the carefully-concealed blood pack. She falls onto her face, ass in the air, the camera zooming in on the gaping, blood-spattered hole...and the Black Knight comes in, hard. The maids hold the gaping asshole open as he jerks off into her, mouthing obscenities.

Scene 6.

With bloody fingers, the queen pulls the broken mirror from the wall. She stares at her own reflection, blood, cum, and dirt smeared and streaked on her beautiful face. A moment of indecision...the sharp edge against her wrist...and then the door opens.

The action scene is all one cut, well-choreographed, the naked queen's rage against the unprepared maids, her impromptu weapon slicing through veins, splattering the set with fake blood. From the dead maid's pocket, a key. The collar comes off. She faces the Black Knight...

Scene 7.

The queen stands, naked but once more carrying herself with confidence. Filth covers her like warpaint, the shard of glass a claw in her hands. The Knight is on the throne when she comes to him...the shard of glass is held at the Knight's throat. With her left hand, the queen imperiously pulls away the codpiece. The cock appears, is stroked and sucked to hardness. The queen climbs onto it, hips pumping. No longer the person getting fucked, but the person doing the fucking, the roles reversed, sexuality embraced. Fake blood and cum squirt out of her ass every time she bottoms out and in the final climax she cuts the Knight's throat.

Scene 8.

The queen, back on her throne, in her finery. The swell of her stomach suggests pregnancy. A strange smile on her lips. Beautiful, powerful, wiser than before...and the story ends.

"Cut! That's a wrap!"

Lois Lane sagged on the throne, exhausted. Angelica, the rubber scar of her slit throat still half-glued to her neck, smiled.

"How was I?" Lois asked.

"A fucking goddess," Diana Reynolds said. "Fuck, I need to go one rub one out now."

"Babe," Blaze said, a strange twinkle in her eye. "When this gets out, your whole life is going to change. You'll see. They won't be able to stop talking about you."

Lois smiled...and felt the edge of her nervousness and exhaustion. A part of her still feared that was exactly what would happen. She felt her hand rest on the fake pregnancy belly, wondering how soon she would be this big.