Lois Lane Feels More Fucked Than Any Woman Has Ever Been

In her more drunk and horny moments, Lois Lane liked to watch women fuck machines. She'd swirl the merlot around in her glass, let her fingers comb through her carefully trimmed black pubic hair to lazily circle her clit, and see women pounded with mechanical and untiring precision by a bevy of homemade conglomerations. The crudest were power tools with dildo attachments, spinning blurrily as they ravaged cunt or ass...but Lois preferred to watch the more sophisticated set-ups. The ones which involved a motor and real jackhammer action. Especially if the woman was bound, unable to escape, trapped for a moment and helpless beneath the frantic fucking machine...

Probably, the reporter's own experiences being caught and held captive had bled into her sex life. Certainly, Lois had faced many mechanical menaces. Yet she had never gone the distance...never felt one of them hold her tight in its metal clutches as it effortlessly violated her.

Until now.

Now, the cunthugger robot jackhammered the reporter's pussy. Its legs gripped her tight, utterly impossible for her to dislodge...and its pistoning ovipositor popped into her super-elastic cervix and with each lunge another egg was **** into her rapidly swelling womb.

The reporter groaned and screamed as it felt like a hundred steel ball bearings forcing their way into pussy, one at a time. She gripped her stomach as the mass increased, thrust by thrust, second by second, the skin stretching and distending with terrible easel To Lois Lane's eyes, she looked like her bloated belly was racing through the stages of pregnancy, her cunt chafed raw but not tearing thanks to the elasticity of her augmented flesh...but in fact, she was being implanted with over a hundred eggs, her body struggling to adapt to the sudden flood of hormones as it tried to gestate them all.