Just Do It

For all of her intelligence, for all of her experience as a reporter, Lois Lane was prone to acting by her gut. Following her journalistic instincts. The thrill of the chase, of discovery, sometimes made her act before thinking, and to come up with justifications only afterward. The little voice in her head fed that impulse, and Lois Lane found herself at the door almost before she could think.

The old woman opened the door.

"Out yo' go. Yo' come back as a bitch, or yo' don't come back."

The cool night air brushed against the naked reporter's body. Her nipples were so hard and stiff, she couldn't stand it. Rivulets of juice ran down her empty pussy. Her aching ass felt empty...and with the words of her mistress echoing in her ears, she stepped out into the deserted streets.

The door closed behind her. And locked.

The concrete was hard on the reporter's bare feet. She turned to the left, eyes wide as she looked straight ahead. Keenly aware of how exposed she was...how ****...but also how natural it felt. Human beings were born naked, after all. It was only an accident of civilization that made them wear clothes, that made nudity in public taboo.

That was her brain, retroactively trying to justify the decision. It was too late now to back out, to turn back and bang on the door, to try and hide or cover herself.

The wind kissed her skin, and Lois shivered...

Two blocks to the glory hole.

You can do it, the voice whispered in her ear, the devil on her shoulder egging her on. Who cares if anyone sees you?