Lois Lane Is Dragged Back Against Her Will

The reporter kicked at the hand holding her ankle. Her fingers grabbed at the slick, smooth glass. She screamed until her voice grew hoarse, thrashed and twisted, bucked and heaved. Down below, the thick cum pool remained, the honorable **** that the reporter had sought thwarted.

The scarlet hand gripping her ankle never wavered. It tugged, slowly, an inch at a time. Enjoying the reporter's struggle. The reporter looked back over her shoulder...and caught her first glimpse of the horror that owned that strange voice.

She was naked, tall, lanky and inhumanly lean. Skin as red as fresh blood on parchment, the hyde like shiny red leather of some animal, the muscles and bones visible beneath it. Dark horns curled up from a broad brow, dark hair fell down across her shoulders in inky black curls. The eyes were dark shadows, like the gaping sockets of a skull, but the thin lips were held in a Mona Lisa smile.

The figure was naked, and balanced with the balls of her feet on the rim of the pit, perfectly and effortlessly balanced. A cock—animalistic, inhuman, sharp and pointed as a spike at the tip—jutted out in a gentle curve, hovering near the bony knees.

"Come, my followers," the creature's voice burned, husky and with that strange unplaceable accent. "Shower her with your worship. She wanted to drown in cum...let us see how that feels..."

Naked men crowded the edge of her pit. Hands went to cocks, stroking furiously. Hips bucked in the air. There was no hesitation, no shame in their frenzied masturbation. Something drove them on, every one of them hard at the creature's command...and then, as if to add insult to injury, they began to cum.

Not far, because men cannot cum very far. But the ones standing nearest the red figure's shoulders came first, and by then the reporter had been drawn up far enough that her free leg slammed ineffectually against the scarlet shin. Pain stabbed through the reporter's leg every time she made contact: it was like kicking a stone statue. With an effort, Lois did a sit-up against gravity and swung her left fist at the figure...but it missed the crimson face by an inch, and the reporter fell back down against the glass.

Hot wet white drops fell onto the reporter's naked legs. Ran in rivulets down toward her unprotected pussy, her cum-matted pubic hair. When the two nearest the red figure had spent, the next two shuffled closer and exploded, sending forth their contributions...and if Lois had voice she would have screamed her fury.

Yet it was the cock between the creature's legs that began to twitch. Something stirred within the creature, and Lois felt her bowels grow cold as she imagined what that thing could do to her.