Lois Sticks Her Fingers In The Woman's Pussy

Maybe it was the ecstasy. Maybe it was just the queer mix of suffering and sexual need on Tonya Wong's face, irises big and black. Maybe it was just that Lois Lane needed answers.

There was no hesitation in the reporter as the first two fingers of her right hand formed a claw and slipped inside the young Asian woman's tight cunt, drawing out a moan and gasp from the desperately horny bitch.

"Ah...more...more..." Tonya's eyes rolled back, thighs sweaty and tight, calves flexed... Lois pressed her finger on the young woman's clit, pinching the meaty pussy between her fingers.

"Tell me...why are you here?" Lois asked. "What's going on?"

"W-whores!" the nude co-ed gasped. "We-we're dirty fucking whores, paying our way through college with our bodies, letting him fuck us...and fuck us...anywhere, everywhere, the money is so good, the sex is so good, ah!"

Lois started moving her fingers inside of her. It was wet and tight...she had expected that. But it was different from her own pussy. The reporter could never remember herself being this slimy inside, the insides so soft and hot. For some reason she thought it would be like sticking her finger into a warm chicken, but it wasn't. She could feel the pulse through her fingers, the dark stubble of the woman's shaved labia, unfamiliar internal geography.

"When did it start?" She asked, interview instincts taking over as she finger-fucked the young woman.

"Th-the beginning of the semester. Once a week...it was just modeling at first. Costumes. Glamour shots. They liked what they saw. There was more money. All we had to do was...y'know, I would have done it with him, even without money. But it was great. All that cash. Enough to pay for my books, my dorm, the whole semester...but he started getting...demanding..."

Lois looked over at the other women. They stared at her hungrily as she fingered Tonya's cunt.

"You've been missing for two weeks Tonya. What happened?"

"I...we...we got into it. All of us." The Asian woman's eyes opened wide, face flushed, little tongue running over and over her lips as though trying to taste something that wasn't there. "He wanted us around more. And we...we agreed. You wouldn't believe how good it is. The sex. What he does to us. What he makes us do. The Master."

The reporter raised an eyebrow. She couldn't tell if this was full-tilt BDSM speak or some sort of Stockholm syndrome. Her fingers slid in deep, all the way to the knuckle, and pulled forward. The young woman was **** to flex her hips, tip of the stalagmite pressing against the rear of her pussy.

There was only one question left, really. Who would create a Kryptonian sex dungeon? Who would even know enough about the Fortress of Solitude to do it?

Lois drew her face close to Tonya Wong's, her lips almost on the other woman's. Full eye contact, seeing herself reflected in those wide, dark pupils.

"Who is your Master?"