Epilogue: Lois Lane's Lesbian Alter Ego

By day, the mild-mannered reporter at the Daily Planet.

By night...

"Lizzie Long! Who's cunt are you eating tonight?"

Lois turned in response to the name, smiling. It was so easier and easier to slip into her "other" personality. Lois Lane was nothing if not vivacious, but she was also principled and had a reputation to protect as a single woman who had elbowed her way to the top of her profession. Lizzie Long, by comparison, with her tattoos, piercings, and huge tits, had just as quickly begun a meteoric descent into the bowels of the porn industry...

...and loved every minute of it.

"Whoever's on the menu," she said with a smile, showcasing those perfect white teeth, now ornamented with a golden grill. Lois had seen the accouterment on a female wrapper, and no sooner had she seen than she had it. Her split tongue with its piercings tapped against the gold inlays lasciviously.

Into the club. It was full of industry people tonight, in-between shoots. Lois had picked up on that right away as the place to see and be seen, to make the connections that would get her the next contract. Not just gonzo straight-to-streaming affairs like her debut, but harder affairs—feature films, fetish stuff, the big money private films that would never see distribution...

The undercover reporter moved through the crowd. Technically, she was wearing an oversized t-shirt and tight jeans, but each had been systematically ripped and cut until there was more skin showing than not. A careful (or careless) tug would reveal a pierced nipple, a dark tattoo, an inch of cunny...and eye did follow her as she sauntered through the crowd toward the bar, rubbing and being rubbed against the hot, tight bodies. She was headed for drinks, but her ears were open.

"...not exactly legal..."

"...the nicest piebald pony you ever met..."

"...no money, but they've got weed and blow..."

"...little old aunt needs to make rent, will do anything..."

"...fucking cultists and magic shit, y'know?"

The reporter's ears perked up. She held up two fingers and the bartender slid her a double vodka; Lois slammed the cash on the bar. Even in her new lesbian persona the reporter was still in there, and Lizzie Long swallowed her booze and moved toward the sound of the voice...and found her.

A little mousy thing with dirty blonde hair, glasses, pink lipstick, acne scars across the cheeks, a half-dozen piercings in each ear. A little overweight, and nervous in a black dress that revealed far more pale flesh and fat thig than the woman was comfortable with. Sitting at a table with a bottle-blonde black woman who was completely more composed, comfortable, and based on the way her pierced nostril was twitching, looking to score.

Lois sat down at the table and smiled.

"Lizzie," she said, extending a long dark hand with short pink nails.

"Es-esme," the plump young woman said, evidently taken aback.

"Esme," Lois tasted the word, and let the woman see her tongue. "Have you ever had someone eat out your pussy in a restroom?"

The glasses looked like they were about to steam. Esme didn't quite have a second chin yet, but it was starting. Lois grabbed the wrist, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. She stood and gently tugged Esme to her feet, and pulled her toward the bathroom. Her friend watched in utter awe as her wingwoman was poached right before her eyes.

In the stall. The bigger woman bent over the toilet as Lizzie Long pushed the dress up, revealing a thick, jiggly ass, the sex, frilly blue panties covering a wide area. Lois peeled them down, and she could already hear Esme's heavy breathing, unable to comprehend that this was really happening.

"Tell me about yourself, Esme," Lois said in Lizzie's husky voice. "What do you do?"

"I'm...I'm a camera operator, mostly," the woman said, chin jiggling as the bombshell behind her spread a meaty, soft expanse of buttock to reveal a slim salmon-colored slit buried in a matt of golden pubic hair.

"News affiliates? Or do you work in porn?" Lois said, her thumb tracing the wetness. Working carefully, the lesbian reporter slipped her thumb into the hot channel, as her forefinger worked to rub the woman's clit.

"B-both!" Esme said. "Oh that feels...God, no one's touched me in so long..."

"Really? Let's see how you taste."

The reporter's thumb tugged down, and her mouth darted forward, tongue pressing into the bottom of the proffered cunt. There was quite a bit of hair that pressed against her face and lips, and the faint whiff of a fart as Lois plunged her whole face forward...but Lizzie Long liked her cunny a little nasty. She was a bit of a nasty cuntlicker herself.

"Oh...oh...oh!" Esme shook like a bowl full of jelly. Some might have found that unattractive, and Lizzie Long had found that all women had attractive features. Pornstar good looks were often the result of dieting, exercise, cosmetic surgery...and the women that chased those ideals were, to her mind, often obsessed and boring in the mundanity of their desires. To look good and marry rich, to get to the top of the game and out of it. Lizzie Long found those who struggled much more interesting...because they often had better stories to tell.

Her thumb and forefinger worked, stroking and penetrating as her tongue ran up and down the labia, slurping on the juices that dripped from the hot young cunny, Esme quivering as if her flanks were about to give. Right where Lois and Lizzie wanted her.

The lesbian reporter ran her pierced tongue-tips up either side of Esme's asshole.

"Shoot anything interesting recently?" She teased as she moved her fingers in and out of the whole.

"Y-yeah!" Esme said, **** to get that tongue back inside of her. "These, these cultists want me to shoot their ceremony...some kind of occult rite. They've got this book they read from, and this woman comes in made up like a demon, all red skin and horns...well, I say she's a woman, because she's got the biggest cock I've ever seen..."

"What kind of ceremonies?" Lois let her tongue-tips drag over Esme's taint, the will-she-won't-she of whether the reporter was going to lick cunt or ass next.

"Black mass...naked woman on the altar...except this demon, she's jizzing over these wafers like you get at church, and promising the women they'll be changed...I can't really do justice to it, I know it sounds like a bad horror movie but it's creepy fucking shit. She has the women do these demeaning things to prove themselves ready for the transformation, and the bitches are just like...totally into it, like they're beaten dogs or hypnotized or something. I saw one young Asian woman drink this other woman's period, blood all over her face and chin, and..."

The ass quivered with something that wasn't ecstasy. Lizzie Long took over, her tongue-tips pressing against the unwashed asshole in front of her, shifting her grip on the pussy so that she could slide two fingers in...and there was plenty of room to spare. Esme was a big girl. She could take it.

By the end of the night, back at Esme's cramped little apartment, making her little dog scratch at the door in frustration as her mistress writhed around Lizzie Long's fist, the lesbian reporter found out just how much she could take it.

Behind Lizzie's eyes, Lois was remembering everything. She recognized where this filming was taking place. The same club where Lois had found the book that fateful night, which had given birth to Lizzie Long.

As the exhausted, naked young woman squeezed and convulsed, her whole body jiggling like a massive slab of dough during an earthquake, Lois Lane knew she had the lead she needed on where the missing women had gone.

Idly, Lizzie pulled her hand from the unresisting pussy and began to lick it clean, like a cat, tongue-tips twirling around each finger.