Tonya Wong

Tonya Wong. 21 years old. Business major. Studious, ambitious...wanted to be in charge of a company, make some serious money. Lois recounted the details in her head as she followed Maria through the maze of passages. I can't see her as somebody's toilet. If she's here, she's got to be here against her will. I can talk to her, find out what's going on.

Yet the barmaid didn't seem the least bit perturbed when Lois asked about her. Only nodded, that same enigmatic half-smile on her lips, and off they went.

Doubts began to nibble at the reporter's resolve. Could Tonya Wong be into some kinky shit? Business is a high-stress occupation, she'd heard of more than a few CEOs who were into some serious BDSM groups...liked to just give up control utterly. Nothing of what Lois had read or heard about Wong pointed to that, but people were always full of surprises.

They emerged from the backways into...a well-lit cubicle farm. Offices with doors against one wall. Lois blinked under the lights, heard the chatter of the women present. It seemed like some sort of call center...and then Lois blushed as she figured out what kind of call center.

"...I'm not wearing any panties at all, baby, my pussy's bare and wet..."

"...slide another finger in my ass. Hmm, oh baby I wish you were here right now, wish it was your cock fucking me..."

"...I flushed all my pills daddy. I'm totally unprotected. If you fuck me tonight, I..."

"...want to hold your mouth to my cunt until your screams echo in my pussy..."

"...a-another finger? O-okay, I...oh fuck, I don't know if I can...it's going in! It's going in..."

Sex phone lines. Lois thought, turning her gaze to left and right...but no, not quite that either. Each cubicle was a miniature bedroom mock-up, with part of a bed and a camera and props. From the viewpoint of the camera, they were women of every shape and size in their own rooms, acting out their parts for the camera.

Cam whores. A cam whore farm. Lois had never heard of anything like that...

Finally, they arrived at one of the wooden office doors. There was a little nameplate on it, in brass with stamped letters.

TONYA WONG

Then beneath that, in all caps:

MANAGER

The reporter steeled herself for what she would find as she rapped her knuckles on the door.

"Come in," the voice came from beyond the door. Lois Lane's hand fell on the knob, twisted, turned, pushed...