Lois Lane's Insemination

Standing with her legs spread, bent over and grabbing her ankles, the reporter watched as the nurse removed one arm from her distended pussy and bent down. A part of the floor slid aside with the hiss of escaping gas. Lois blushed as she saw one hand—wet and gooey with lubricant and pussy juice up to those brawny forearms—and pull up a thin clear hose, with a strange nozzle on the very tip, about two inches wide.

"What...what's that?" Lois panted. Being in this position for so long, she was starting to feel a little light-headed, and bent her knees slightly, afraid of passing out.

"This is the treatment you're here for, sugar," the nurse assured her. "Now that you're dilated, we can fill that womb of yours right up."

"With what?" Lois pressed, apprehension rising inside of her—but something else too. Her pussy tried to clamp down on the nurse's arm that remained inside of her, but couldn't quite do it. The nurse still had one finger holding her cervix open, and Lois was aware of a growing...need, like an itch that had to be scratched. It was the kind of feeling that normally only came to her after periods of prolonged involuntary celibacy, when her cunt demanded release that she couldn't give it.

That it was happening here and now, under such circumstances...

"Don't worry," the nurse assured her as she brought the tube up to the reporter's pussy. Lois had to bite her lip as hand and nozzle worked to push her labia inside, to **** their way into that gaping cunt. "It's a potent treatment. They screen all the donors for disease and all the samples for sluggish sperm or undesirable traits...you're getting the best of the best from the inner city clinics..."

Lois Lane's eyes grew wide as the import of those words sank in.

"It's semen?" She said, and almost stood up—but then the nurse was pressing both arms deep inside of her, stretching her cunt wider than before, and Lois could feel the hard nozzle against the dilated opening of her womb. The reporter could not stop the moan that exploded from deep inside her throat, the quiver that went through her legs as her knees suddenly grew weak.

"The best semen! I hope you wanted a black baby...the demographics of the donors in the Suicide Slum clinics skews pretty hard toward African-Americans. Not that the other women objected."

"O-others?" Lois managed, knowing that she should put an end ot this right now, but unable to bring herself to move. It felt like the nozzle of the tube was just a little too wide for her cervix, but the Nurse's fingers were stretching the reporter out, just enough so that it slipped around the edge.

"You're subject number five for this treatment," the nurse told her. "Don't worry, you'll meet the others once we fill you up."

Lois Lane's eyes rolled up...which, given that her head was hanging down around her knees, meant she saw the white line of the fluid swiftly traveling up the clear tube, headed straight to her wide-open and undefended uterus.

"How...how much?" Lois asked, not sure why she cared...a teaspoon would be enough, if she was ovulating. But what was traveling up through the tube was far, far more than a teaspoon...