Epilogue: Third Party

"I have a task for you."

Lois Lane was on her knees, naked except for her collar. Angelica had turned down the temperature in the apartment, so that the reporter's nipples were hard, and gooseflesh covered her bare arms and legs. The dickgirl sat on the edge of the bed, so close that Lois could smell the cock. The reporter did her best not to shiver...and not just from the cold. They had been tracking her cycle all month. Tonight was one of her "dangerous" days.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Put on a trenchcoat. Go down into the streets. Bring me a whore to fuck."

"M-mistress?" Lois Lane's heart seemed to leap into her throat. Tonight was supposed to be the night that Angelica knocked her up...they had talked about it, planned it...

Blaze leaned forward. Her breath was warm on the reporter's skin. A smooth, hot hand caressed Lois Lane's jaw.

"Do you trust me?"

"Y-yes, mistress."

"Then do as I say. Find a whore. Bring her here." Blaze leaned back, still stroking her dick. Lois knew she hadn't cum in three days. "I'll be waiting."

Suicide Slum was three blocks away. Lois blushed, naked beneath her trench coat, heels clicking on the sidewalk. There was no time to find an escort online, she needed a whore that would walk back with her, do the deed...someone clean, hopefully, and willing. That meant hungry. That meant the newsies.

With all the developments in technology, the Daily Planet and many other newspapers still had a hardcopy edition. Many were distributed to newsstands, bookstores, but tens of thousands of copies were sold on the street. Wages were low, but the Newsie Legions were loyal to each other as any gang...and like a gang, the older members sometimes did other things on the side. Eighteen and nineteen years old, living on the streets, thin as rough-looking...no models these, and most of them weren't professionals. Yet a few of them did turn tricks.

Lois knocked on the door of the newsie house—one of their illegal squats. A slot pulled back. Almond-shaped hazel eyes, hint of epicanthic folds, orange eyebrows, the left one split by a small pink scar, a scattering of freckles.

"Whaddya want?"

"Home delivery," Lois said.

One of the eyebrows rose.

"Boy or girl?"

"Girl," Lois said. "No rough stuff. Half up front."

"Where?"

Lois gave her address. The girl named a price. The reporter pushed the bills through the slot.

The door opened. The young woman was older than Lois thought. Copper hair tucked under her flat cap, pale and thin, dressed like a boy in baggy brown pants and grey hoodie...but Lois could see the swell of the breasts. No makeup or lipstick. There was Chinese somewhere in his ancestry, maybe a grandparent, lent her the eyes and a kind of flat face, but if she wasn't half-Irish, Lois would be surprised.

"Molly," the young woman said, a copy of the Daily Planet's evening edition in her hand. "Okay?"

"Okay." Lois said. "Walk with me?"

They walked, side by side, no talking. Somewhere on Molly would be at least one weapon. The Newsies were known to carry metal pipes, switchblades—guns were too heavy a sentence if you got caught with one. Still, she looked clean.

"I like girls," Molly said, three blocks later, as Lois let her into the building.

"You're not here for me," Lois said, a pang in her belly as she said it.

"What?" The hazel eyes widened.

Lois pulled open the trenchcoat, enough to show the collar.

"It's...a BDSM thing. My girlfriend...she's got a dick. She told me to bring her someone...someone else to fuck." Lois swallowed. "I'm supposed to watch."

Hazel eyes blinked.

"That's fucked up." A pause. "Are you okay with that?"

Lois gave a wan smile, tried to put some enthusiasm into her voice. "Yeah. I want to see her fuck you."

"Huh. Okay," she said. The elevator hit Lois Lane's floor. "Big dick?"

"Yes," Lois said, without any detail.

The apartment was dark, when they entered, except for a line of candles illuminating the path through the kitchen to the bedroom.

Blaze sat on the edge of the bed, clearly visible as Molly entered. The young whore's eyes grew wide.

"Wowzers."

"Take off your clothes," Angelica Blaze said from the bedroom.

Lois obediently shucked her coat, and Molly turned to stare at the naked woman. The prostitute hesitated.

"Lois," Angelica said. "She's nervous. Pay her. Pour her a drink. Bring me a condom."

"Yes, mistress," the naked reporter said, more for Molly's benefit. She laid the bills on the edge of the kitchen table, and brought out a clean glass and a new bottle of rum. Molly laid her paper on the table...and then the money was gone. The flat cap came off, showing a neck-length mess of straight coppery hair. Hoodie and undershirt came off in one slick move. No bra underneath. Her breasts were smaller than Lois Lane's, the nipples pink, hard in the cold air; a cheap gold crucifix glittered between them. So thin Lois could see her ribs.

Molly pounded the shot straight back. Lois poured her another one as the young woman worked her way out of pants and socks and shoes.

The reporter brought Angelica the condom. The dickgirl accepted it without a word, and unrolled it over her dick. Lambskin, magnum. Lois stared at the swollen, hairless balls. It was a kind of ****...and yet Lois could feel the dampness behind her thighs, imagining what that cock would look like sliding in and out of Molly's tight little cunt.

There was a slurp. The empty glass touched the table. The naked young woman walked into the bedroom.

"So...how do you want me?"

Blaze stood up. She was taller than Molly by a head, so that it looked like her cock was about to fuck the young prostitute's belly button. That smile Lois knew so well on her lips.

"On your knees, on the bed. Nothing...too kinky."

Looking over at Lois, Molly clambered onto the bed. Presenting her hairy cunt. Angelica ran a finger up it.

"A little dry." She turned to Lois. "Get her wet."

"Yes, mistress," Lois said. Her heart hammered as she moved toward Molly. She had never eaten out another woman before...but Molly liked girls. Lois had paid her extra. That made it okay, right?

She breathed in the scent of the unwashed pussy. A little fishy, a little musty...Lois found herself panting into that box, felt the heat of Molly's labia in the cold apartment air. Closed her eyes and pressed forward.

The cunt was hot against her mouth. Her tongue ran up the slit, catching some of the soft, curly hairs. Molly leaned back a little, and Lois took that as a sign to run her tongue right up the middle, into that hot, wet cunny, and she tasted the slight sourness of another woman's cunt for the first time. The reporter repressed a shiver as she began to lick more earnestly, tongue delving deeper as it found the tight little hole within, letting herself slather it with saliva...trying to remember what she liked when Blaze would eat her out...

Too soon, her mistress' voice.

"That's enough."

Lois stopped, retreated. Molly was breathing hard enough that Lois could hear her.

"On the bed. On your back. Underneath her."

There was a confused shuffling, and then Lois was staring up at Molly's face, the crucifix suspended between them, the reporter's thighs spread wide. Lois could see the very moment that Blaze entered her. That look of shock...that grew as the cock delved deeper, stretched that tight little cunt wider and wider...until Molly grimaced as she was pushed beyond anything she had ever known...and Lois wondered if she had made the same face, the first time...

"Play with yourself," Angelica told Lois. "Play with your cunt while I fuck her. I want you to be wet and ready."

Ready for what, was the question. Yet with a whispered "Yes, mistress," Lois reached down between her legs, one finger and then another sliding easily into her cunny, and then...Blaze began to move. Slowly, surely, and Molly stared at Lois as the prostitute was fucked and as Lois jilled herself off at the sight of it. There was that weird intimacy of the moment, the both women utter strangers yet bound to Angelica Blaze's whims, and the dickgirl picked up speed and ****, and Lois could see Molly begin to shake and grimace, hear the moans as Blaze began to seriously slam her cock inside of her, tasted the drool the dripped down from her lips, felt the dangling crucifix and the tips of the young woman's hard nipples brush against her own chest...

...and Lois was frigging herself faster and faster, and despite the cold air there was a layer of heat between them, their bodies so close, so hot, and the reporter was literally stabbing her cunt with one hand while the other rubbed her clit, and all the time she imagined what it must feel like for this young whore, getting a fat cock like that for the first time, her young pussy stretched out taut by that raging prick.

Then...Lois saw the shock and loss on Molly's face as Blaze pulled out. Heard the rip as the dickgirl ripped off the condom. Felt the stiff prick against her cunt as the cock ruthlessly plunged in, too fast for Lois to extract her fingers. Lois Lane's back arched and her eyes widened as the cock **** it's way in, the reporter's own fingers stretching her even wider than before...and her whole body shook as she felt the hot sperm burst deep inside of her, Blaze grunting as she slammed her cock home, **** to impregnate her servant, her lover, her pet, her ****...

Lois looked up at Molly...and there was something in her eyes, which were wet with tears dripping down into the reporter's face. Jealousy maybe, or regret...or maybe just pain aggravated by frustration, as she was left without climax.

Blaze's head rested on Molly's shoulder.

"Thank you, my dear. You see, she's ovulating today," Angelica smiled. "And I wanted to make tonight special."

"No...no problem," Molly said. "Happy to, uh, help."

Lois laughed, and raised her head up to press her lips against Molly's. The kiss was impromptu, and Blaze laughed at how the young whore's eyes widened in shock. It was a night that none of them would ever forget.