Chapter 15 by Zeebop

What Does Lois Do?

Please Don't Put Anything Else In My Body!

Lois cried as rancid semen and stomach acid burned the back of her throat. The immense amounts of jizz she had swallowed were threatening to burst out of her stomach. The reporter couldn't stand the idea of having even one more drop of cum inside of her.

"Too late!" Blaze hissed, thrusting her prick balls-deep in the reporter's cunt.

"Noooooo!" Lois screamed.

She could feel it, or thought she could. Her stomach gurgled, pressure increasing that tiniest fraction, guts churning as the gallon of splooge she'd already drank threatened to escape. The reporter laid on the desk, stupid tears leaking from her eyes. Lois didn't even resist as Angelica Blaze slipped her dick out of the reporter and two of the waitresses grabbed her arms and pulled her up off the desk, sliding their shoulders underneath the reporter to carry her weight as her limp legs dangled beneath her.

"This one isn't done yet," Blaze said, triumph in her voice. "Take her to the chair."

Even through her pain and despair, Lois Lane was still a reporter. She memorized the hallways they **** her through, the combination one of the waitresses typed one-handed into the number-pad at the final door...into a room of dark brick with arching vaults, drains set into the floor, which smelled like a stable.

She recognized the four women strapped into wooden chairs.

Jenny Dunlap, Mara de la Cruz, Tonya Wong, and Diana Reynolds, the four missing women she had come to find, were naked, strapped in place. Tight leather bands sunk into soft flesh. There were tubes running down their throats, attached to funnels above their heads. Their bloated bellies looked almost pregnant. White stains crusted their lips. But Lois Lane only glanced at their protruding abdomens, focused as she was on their eyes.

They were dumb and glazed, placid as cows, like animals ready for slaughter.

Lois turned her head in time to see the fifth chair that had been prepared for her.