Epilogue: Trapped

Jimmy Olsen was in a dress again.

Which wouldn't normally be a problem. His closet had a revolving door. Genderqueer, or genderfluid; Lois had never asked the details. The problem was that he was at the height of femme today...and that was making things very, very hard for Lois Lane.

Inside its cage, her cock throbbed.

It's not like I'm not getting any at home, Lois told herself. I mean, I love Angie. She gave me a blowjob just this morning.

Jimmy was bent over in front of the printer. The skirt was too short for decency. The panties had little blue stripes on them. His ass was rounder than she thought it would be...and she could see the little bulge of his balls.

The Daily Planet's Greatest Reporter bit her lip, swallowed hard...and pushed away from her desk. She staggered into the bathroom and turned on the taps. Splashed some water onto her face.

"Get a grip, Lois," she said, staring at herself in the mirror. "Pregnant girlfriend at home. Only a couple hours to the workday left. You can do this. Just wait 'til tonight, and when you're pounding Angie like the Energizer bunny, you can...you can imagine..."

She didn't let herself finish the sentence. Her dick was leaking, and she could feel the wetness running down her leg.

"Miss Lane," a familiar voice came from next to her.

The reporter looked over. Jimmy stood there. Red hair in a pixie cut. Chest flat, but he was wearing a bra anyway. Pretty sundress. Two-inch heels. White ankle-socks, with the little frilly bits around the top. He took up a position in the sink next to her and began to fix his makeup.

"This is the women's restroom, Jimmy," Lois heard herself say.

He leaned over and whispered. "I know. But I won't tell if you don't."

With exaggerated care, he put a fresh glossy coat on his lips. Lois watched him, panting. Her cock was straining inside its cage.

"You know, Miss Lane," he said, without looking her in the eye. "I heard you were going to get married to that girlfriend of yours."

Lois sucked in her breath. She'd mentioned her plans to propose to Clark yesterday.

"Thinking about it," she said.

"I think that's a great idea," he smacked his lips at the mirror, and tried on a smile. "Do you know why?"

"Why is that...Jimmy?" Lois Lane's heart raced.

He turned toward her and batted his eyes. Fake eyelashes. Long and feminine. they set off the freckles across his cheek and nose.

"Because sex with married cocks is so much hotter, don't you think?" Jimmy popped a breathmint in his mouth.

The reporter's mouth went dry. "I wouldn't know. Haven't tried it."

"Hmm. I'll bet there are a lot of things you haven't tried," he stepped toward her, closed the distance. Even with the heels, he was an inch or two shorter than her. Slim...girly...

One finger touched the tip of Lois Lane's beltbuckle.

"I know you're having a hard time," he said. "Maybe I could help you out with that?"

"I'm in a relationship, Jimmy," Lois said. "I can't cheat on her. I won't."

"Who said anything about cheating?" he said, and the tip of his finger curled around the waistband. "There are plenty of things we can do that aren't...sex."

She could smell his breath...minty and fresh...and below that, the perfume he was wearing. Sweet, floral, almost citrus-y...

He lifted his skirt. There was a little bulge there, stretching out his panties. A familiar one. She could make out the outlines of the chastity cage...but who held the key to his? Lois didn't know. Wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Sometimes...when I'm having a hard time," Jimmy said, batting his eyelashes. "I helps to rub it up against something. Soft. Like this."

He turned around, flipped the skirt up in the back. That ass was there, straining the panties. Jimmy backed up toward her, until his butt was pressing against her crotch.

"Come on, Miss Lane," Jimmy said, giving his bum a wiggle. "I've shown you mine. It's only fair to show me yours."

Lois Lane seldom ran from anything, but she bolted from that bathroom as quickly as she could. Stopped at her desk only long enough to pick up her phone and her purse and yelled at her editor "PERRYIMTAKINGTHERESTOFTHEDAYOFFBYE" as she careened out of the office.

In the bathroom, Jimmy looked at himself in the mirror, and tried on a pout.

"Next time," he told his reflection. "I have to be sexier!"