What Turns You On?

The sun lamps against the walls began to heat up. Lois worried for a moment, but suddenly felt...good. All the aches, nausea, and fever she'd been experiencing vanished in moments as she soaked up the rays.

"What turns you on, Lois?" Luthor asked, his tone inquisitive.

Lois said nothing. Pensive and a little angry. Treat it like an interview. She thought. Let him talk.

"Everyone has sensual triggers. Some aspect of things that just works for them. Large penises. Black penises. Small breasts. Soft curves. Hard muscles. And those are just the physical features..."

As Lex talked, a succession of images flitted across the screen, just long enough for Lois to register them. Naked forms, all different types, and shapes. Pink vulvas. Fat, veiny pricks. Dark nipples, standing tall like towers on smooth hilltops. A plush ass, the buttocks hanging down and away from the back of the thighs. Pouty lips that begged to suck and be sucked.

The lights continued to intensify, and though Lois knew she should start to feel the burn from the lamps, it felt no more than being out on a summer's day...albeit naked.

Images continued to flicker across the screens, briefly replacing Le's image, though they were doing so more frequently and staying for longer—Lois could see them, wherever she looked in the room; even when she tried to avoid looking at them directly, the constant activity in her peripheral vision annoyed her. Finally, she closed her eyes.

"You don't have to say anything, Lois." Lex said. "I've been reading your autonomic responses. I can tell which images caused a physical sensation of arousal." He paused. "But I want to hear you say it."

The voice echoed throughout the room, and began to layer on itself, the words overlapping, a constant low-level susurrus of barely-discernible noise...

Lois opened her eyes. The slideshow of images continued, but now it was focused on a particular anatomical type. Her breath quickened. He knew.

Putting aside her better judgement, Lois watched the slideshow, trying to discern a pattern, a progression.

"Talk to me Lois. Tell me what you like. What you want. What you need."

She could almost distinguish a beat in the words now, a curious emphasis when the overlapping refrain synchronized for a moment. Lois no longer cared about her nudity, but moved around, but there was only the lamps and the screens, and the door was locked from the outside... The naked reporter looked back at the screen.

Lois herself began to feel a tingle in her pussy, nipples already hard, hands straying to her breasts...not just crossing her hands over them, but cupping them, feeling the hard nipples.

The light was almost blinding now, but Lois felt...alive, almost burning with excess energy. Even the tinge of pleasant alcoholic haze had vanished. She felt better than she ever had in her life...but also incredibly horny.

"Answer me Lois," Lex said, urgency in his voice. "Answer me, and we can move on."

Lois half-whispered, unable to look away from the screen. She could feel the drops of sweat running down her brow now. Something in Lois knew, then, that he was getting off on this. They both knew what the answer was...it was there on the screen. But he wanted her to say it. To admit to it. That was his idea of having power over her. Something she could use...

So she did. Staring straight up at the screens, the images superimposed over Lex Luthor's image. And a terrible feverish look came into Lex's eyes.