No, She Still Has A Job To Do

Lois Lane dried her tears. She was a grown woman, and even though she had just been fucked like a cheap slut, she wasn't going to let this bout of heartbreak (cuntbreak? Her pussy still throbbed, remembering that thick cock pushing her wide open, striking deep, Angelica's cum still sliding down her thigh...) interfere with what she had to do tonight.

"Missing women," Lois muttered to herself as she stepped back into the noise and bustle of the club. She stayed at the back of the room, letting her eyes adjust and unfocus. Not staring at anything in particular, just letting her gaze drift, watch the patterns of the people, zooming in on body language. She had learned that trick during an interview with an old whore, someone who could read a room at a glance and zero in on a likely mark or spot of trouble.

"Just breathe, Lois," she told herself, no one able to hear her over the noise of the club. "Don't think about that cock, don't think about it, you're not going to go back."

The reporter's eyes zoomed in on a face in the crowd. Short, Asian female. blue highlights. Tonya Wong. One of the missing women. There and gone.

Lois moved, not focusing on the spot where Tonya had been, but where the movement of the crowd showed she was going: a table in the corner, near a nondescript door. Plumes of smoke hung over the table, three women in the booths nursing a pitcher of some grey drink. As she drew closer, Lois recognized the other missing women.

They looked haggard. Older than their twenty-some years, even with the makeup. Dark bags under their eyes, faces too thin, tight dresses a little too revealing. They had little vaping machines, which they sucked on in turn, sharing them back and forth, and a part of Lois knew that it wasn't just nicotine in the mix.

She drew nearer, picking out more details. No track marks on the arms, no pinching of the nose, teeth...Lois frowned as she got closer. They looked like they were on something, but none of the usual suspects. Not crack, coke, meth, or heroin...so what? Pills? Were they here to score, or...

A pair of young black men approached the table. There was a quick transaction, one that Lois couldn't see. Jenny Dunlap, not smiling as she rose from the table, led the boys away through the door. Lois swallowed.

They were here to work.

Why? Lois wanted to know. What made four promising college students drop their lives and turn to prostitution?

There was only one way to find out.

Lois approached the table.

"Hello," she said, pulling up a chair. "Mind if I join you?"