Lois Does Not Want To Go Into The Cage

The reporter's instincts kicked in. She ignored the voice inside of her head and began to back away from the cage and its occupant. Lois Lane didn't care how horny she was, the fun and games were over...

Or so she thought, until she felt the metal prongs press against the back of her neck.

"Ya can crawl into da cage," the old woman said. "Or I can drag ya."

Desperately, Lois thought about kicking out—catching the taxi driver's legs, knocking her down. Her eyes remained fixed on "Puppy's" dark eyes. The man's drooling prick was pointed right out here, the head a vivid purple against his dark brown skin. It was big...bigger than any of her previous lovers, in serious porn star territory, probably eight inches long. The voice in the reporter's head urged her to move into the cage, to be a good submissive bitch, to play along and maybe get railed by that big black cock...

Instead, Lois Lane's leg shot out...and there was a soft click.

The sensation of being tazed is almost impossible to describe. Every muscle on the body convulses at once. Your heart feels like it stops, the pounding muscle becoming a tight knot in your chest. Time stretches out, so that what lasts for only a fraction of a second seems to stretch on for eternity. Lois thought she even peed a little.

Then the current ends, and all the muscles relax at once. Lois collapsed onto the ground, gulping air, heart thudding erratically, every muscle in her body aching, limbs limp as noodles.

Unable to muster any resistance as the old woman grabbed the reporter beneath the armpits and half-lifted, half-dragged her into the cage. The reporter's legs were next, folded up so that they would fit. Lois found the sweaty scrotum pressed against her temple as the door to the cage was shut and locked.

"You and Puppy get along now, y'hear?" The old woman said with a cackling laugh.