Mercy's Safehouse

Naked beneath her labcoat, Lois Lane followed Mercy through the corridors, out a firedoor. There was a car in the alley, windows tinted a little darker than the reporter thought was legal. Mercy thumbed a fob, and the doors unlocked.

"Get in," she said.

The bodyguard took the driver's seat, body language tense. Lois slid in, buckled up. Her cock was still hard, and with the belt across her lap, it tented the lab coat ridiculously. The reporter used her hands to hold it down as Mercy brought the car into gear, and then they were moving...

The car locks engaged a moment after the wheels started moving. Lois jumped, momentarily panicked, and then chided herself. It was an automatic safety feature of the car. Nothing sinister. Mercy was focused on her driving, eyes on the road, hand on the gear stick as she shifted.

"Where are we going?" Lois asked, after a while.

"I have a place," Mercy said. Her tone was ****, as though measuring her words. "Safehouse. Someplace to get away if...things go bad. Mr. Luthor doesn't know about it. Probably."

They hit the highway. The bay was off to their left, and beyond that the Atlantic Ocean. Headed north then...and what was north? The satellite suburbs of Metropolis, the small towns that fed into it. Beyond that...Lois had hazy images of mountains, forests, farms.

Mercy seemed to relax, once they were outside the city limits. They took a west-bound exit, headed inland, began to climb in elevation.

"Why did save me?" Lois asked.

"Because you're right." Mercy said. "About the missing women. What Lex is doing." A muscle worked in the bodyguard's jaw. "About me."

Lois bit her lower lip, chewing over the woman's words.

"So...you want me to..."

"When we get there," Mercy said. "Yes. It's been...a long time for me."

Lois sucked in her breath. She looked at Mercy a little differently now. Knowing what was expected of her. To...perform. Like a stud horse or a gigolo.

"I wasn't sure you were even into men," the reporter joked. Mercy shot her an angry glance.

"I like...both." She said, very fixedly.

"Oh," Lois said. The conversation felt like a minefield, but she needed to talk. "That's really more common than you'd think."

"Someone in my position...can't afford to indulge. Mr. Luthor can be very demanding. It's important to be there when he needs me. This is the first time I've taken any personal time off in...a long time."

The reporter took a deep breath. "Well, I do appreciate it, Mercy. I hope I..." she fumbled for words. "...satisfy you."

Mercy's hand moved from the stick. Groped in the reporter's lap. Lois lifted her hands out of the way, and the cock spring up, out of the labcoat. The woman grabbed it, eyes on the road, fingers exploring the sweaty skin, thumb running over the head, smearing itself with precum. She brought the hand up to her face, sniffed it, licked her thumb. Hand back on the gearstick, shifting as she passed a slow-moving truck.

"You'll do." Mercy said. Her voice seemed to soften for a moment. "I...thought about you. Before you were like this. Have you...ever thought about me?"

It almost felt like a confession. Lois knew she had to answer quickly.

"When I first met you, I wondered what you looked like naked." she said with utter honesty. In truth, it was something that Lois did with every new person she met. She'd never thought of Mercy as a potential girlfriend of sexual partner, not seriously. Just the idle imagining of how big her breasts were, whether she had any interesting scars.

"You'll find out," Mercy grunted.

They pulled off the highway, and onto a private road. Fields gave way to trees. The pavement gave way to dirt. Night closed in on them. Lois couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a telephone pole, power lines, a cell tower.

A turn down a gravel drive. Right up to the porch of the cabin, looking dark and lonely in the headlights.

"Home sweet home," Mercy said, as she killed the engine of the car.