Mercy Shows Lois The Way

Mercy Graves could not clearly vocalize the directions. So the two dickgirls clung to one another, hastily dressed and leaning drunkenly against one another as they staggered down secret hallways and stair wells. The LexCorp bodyguard's keycard, palmprint, and codes got them through every door and potential checkpoint...and after a very long and circuitous route, the two drunken dickgirls ended up at a relatively plain door marked with a pair of golden Ls.

The door slipped open as Mercy keyed in the code...and Lois Lane's eyes went wide. She wasn't sure what she was expecting—and opulent bedroom, maybe, or a suite of rooms like a 5-star hotel. Lots of gold, sumptuous Classical paintings and art, or high-tech gadgetry. Yet what she saw when the door opened was...

"A throne?" She muttered.

It was a low, squat throne on an austere dias, wth a high arching back, all hard angles. It looked like something from the set of a Star Trek or Star Wars movie, and the aesthetic fulfilled the rest of the room—dark, bare metal, recessed lighting, glass panes on the wall that showed holographic images, the whole dark throne-room like the bridge of a space ship.

Except that the holographic art was all hardcore porn of transgender men and women. And around the dias were golden chains ending in high-tech collars.

As they staggered through the doorway, it slid shut behind them, and a soft chime sounded. From half-hidden arched doorways came a series of half-naked women, their nudity accentuated rather than hidden by golden bra-cups that exposed their nipples, swaying purple and crimson silks that left legs and asses bare, cunningly-crafted metal bracelets at wrist and ankle that could be high-tech bonds...

No, not women, Lois Lane realized. Their bare crotches showed flacid cocks, sometimes with scrotum and testes, sometimes bare, revealing the feminine slits beneath. The breasts too ranged everywhere from bulging and ridiculous implants to almost flat and mannish pecs. Here and there were glowing tattoos, yet every one bore a kind of bar code on the back of their neck...and their makeup was perfect, stylized as a geisha's.

"Lex Luthor made himself a harem of dickgirl space whores," Lois realized aloud, suddenly feeling much more sober as she realized the enormity of resources that had gone into this particular fetish.

"Sshlutsh!," Mercy Graves slurred, her eyes angry and hurt. "Why if Mishter Luthor wash her, I'd...I'd..."

"What would you do, Mercy?" A familiar masculine voice said...and Lex Luthor stepped forward out of the shadows, dressed in a kind of gi, black with silver trim, bald head and bared muscular breast dappled with perspiration.

Mercy Graves blinked, struck by the sudden and unexpected appearance of her boss...and Lois Lane noted the bulge in the bodyguard's pants, the wet spot at the tip. That was when she knew she had to take action.