Not As Stupid As They Think

"...can't get a good reading." A female voice, educated. "Frontal lobe activity seems to be down, but it's impossible to tell how much her intelligence has been impacted."

The reporter's cock twitched, and she slid out of the glowing portal—and her own pussy. Stared down at the hole in space and said out loud:

"Pussy empty. Where cock? Need cock..."

Don't overdo it, Lane, Lois told herself, afraid she'd put too much cavewoman/hillbilly bumpkin into the sound of her own voice. You want them to think you're a lot dumber than you really are.

Which left the question open as to how much intelligence she had lost with that orgasm.

Lois Lane blinked and kept drooling, acting like someone who had just cum their brains out. She felt...fuzzy around the edges. A lot of words just weren't coming, and she had to work around their absence. Like, she could think, but it was harder than it should be. Took real concentration to focus on a train of thought. Right now, what she focused on was playing dumb...literally.

"Your cock is right here, Lois." A voice, male, confident, familiar. The reporter turned her head and saw the pale bald dome of Lex Luthor, standing there in a labcoat. Beside him, a shorter, slimmer woman in a white labcoat that hid her figure, holding a computer tablet. Red hair, vivid green eyes.

The "bimbo" took a step forward, tried a smile, let it fade. The confusion on her features appeared to work—but Lois found herself unsure how much of it was faked and how much was real.

"Cock?" she said.

"Yes," Luthor patted his crotch. "Right here."

The redhead looked at the bald mad scientist with disgust. "Really, Lex? You're going to whip it out right in front of her?"

"Of course not, Dr. Isley," his own piercing blue eyes met Lois Lane's gaze and held it. "She will. Continue monitoring, it should be a good test of her fine motor control."

Lois swallowed, suddenly aware of her thirst, and stumbled forward, then found her footing. A kind of sway, more exaggerated than her normal walk, that made her drooling dick shift back and forth between her legs. When she was a few feet from Lex, she seemed to trip, and caught herself on the floor with her hands.

Licking her lips, hair disheveled, the reporter sauntered forward on hands and knees, right up to where Lex had parted his labcoat to display his bespoke trousers. It was an old-fashioned cut, five buttons instead of a zipper.

"Cock?" she asked, hopefully.

"Yes, Lois." He said, slowly, carefully. "Get the cock. Get the cock out."

Hands shaking a little, Lois brought her hands up to Lex Luthor's trousers.

I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought, feeling her sweat run cold as her fingers fumbled with the buttons. Luthor's stiff cock was tangible beneath the cloth of his trousers. But if I don't suck his cock, the gig might be up...

From somewhere to her left, Isley was tapping at a pad. "Some misfirings in the frontal lobe...registering confusion, hesitancy, sexual excitement...data is still coming in on language recognition and memory recall. Did you want her to retain her vocabulary?"

"Only what is necessary for her new role," he stared down at Lois and said in a commanding tone. "Suck."