Follow The Other Waitress

Maybe it was the shock. Lois Lane moved into automatic pilot, her journalistic instinct tugging her toward her goal. The other woman, when she had been fucked, had walked through that door...and now Lois, her knees weak and wobbly, semen dripping down her thighs, made her way around the tables toward that exact same door. She noticed there was a little light above the handle that glowed green.

No one stopped to help her. Ask her how she was doing. No one here gave a shit about the woman who had just been bent over and **** in public. The reporter felt her lungs grow tight in her chest, stomach churning with sudden nausea. Trying not to process what just happened, to put one foot in front of the other...and she watched her own hand open that door, and stepped through it.

Into something that looked like a clean, ultramodern bathroom. All sparkling smooth white tile floor, subdued white lighting on the slightly arched ceiling, mirrored walls, with two doors—the one Lois had come in, and another one opposite it. Except there was no sink, no trash can, no hand dryers. Empty except for something that looked like a backless toilet in the very middle of the room. When Lois closed the door behind her, there was an audible suction, and a light above the handle turned red.

Unsure of what else to do, the reporter sat on the toilet...or what she took to be a toilet. There was no handle, no foot pedal, no way to flush; not even any water in the bowl. Just a smooth ovoid of cool porcelain beneath her buttocks. Lois Lane's abdomen flexed and she bore down. Doctor Polaris' sperm dripped into the bowl below.

Then the suction started. Lois gave a sound of alarm as her flesh was sucked firmly against the seat...and then the suction increased. The reporter tried to pull herself off the seat, but it was too much. She had to stifle a scream as she felt something press against her recently-violated puss...and then paused as she felt what it was doing. It felt like at the dentist, when the technician placed the suction tube in her mouth, except that the tube was poking around her pussy. Lois panted, panic dying slightly as she felt the tube suck up the sperm her had dumped inside of her.

Then she grimaced and hung on as the thin tube pushed deeper, slurping up all the spilled seed from her violated cunny. Tears came to the reporter's eyes, her chest a tumult of emotions she couldn't sort out at this second unexpected violation, and the weird way it was...cleaning her.

It didn't take long, though the probe, thin as it was, went deep. Lois grimaced in discomfort as the thing poked her cervix, like during a gynecological exam...and then it pulled back. The reporter waited, patiently. The suction ceased, and she could pull herself off of the seat. A voice, feminine and strangely accented, spoke from above:

THANK YOU FOR YOUR DONATION. YOUR ACCOUNT HAS BEEN CREDITED.