End: Girls Will Be Dickgirls

Lois Lane blinked. She had, once, attended an adult film convention in Las Vegas as a journalist. Mostly she was doing a piece on how technology was transforming the industry, but she had been sidetracked into a long display of sex furniture. There was kinds of couches and lounges with odd curved and cushioning, to better facilitate different positions. Designed for fucking, they hadn't looked very comfortable to sit in, and Lois couldn't really put herself into the position of wanted to own such furniture. After all, how often would she want to make love on such a thing, to justify the purchase.

There were sex couches in the four corners of the room, and a fifth in the middle. A naked woman was bent over each, except for the center which was empty. The women's long legs ended in three-inch heels, which barely kept their toes on the floor as they were plowed from behind. There were straps on the sides of the couch, which the women were grasping. The hump of the couches put their cunts on just the right level for fucking...and so they were being fucked.

The reporter recognized the women doing the plowing. Tall, athletic Diana Reynolds, green eyes flashing, coppery red hair swaying as her hips pumped into the rump of the black woman before her. Mara de la Cruz, shorter and stouter, with swinging breasts, was slapping the ass of the woman she was fucking. Tonya Wong, Jenny Dunlap...these were the missing women that Lois Lane had been searching for.

Only they weren't women. Not any longer.

An egg timer chimed.

"Change!" Diana said laughing, and pulled out. A long, skinny cock pulled out of the pussy in front of her, dripping with spunk. Like an obscene game of musical chairs, each dickgirl pulled out and ran to the next pussy to their right. In something like twenty seconds, they were sticking their cocks back into the fresh cunts, laughing and joking.

"Gonna spunk this bitch up!" Tonya Wong said loudly. "Make her carry my dickgirl babies!"

"Bitch, if you spunk that cunt before I get to it, I'll put a dickgirl baby in you!" Mara shot back.

Jenny Dunlap simply grunted, plunging into the pussy in front of her with earnest need and desperation.

"So," Angelica Blaze said wearily. "This is what they do all day. Fuck until they can't move, stay up all night drinking, and then the next day they do it again."

"...and the women they're fucking?" Lois said, weirdly unable to look away as Jenny Dunlap, her cock as deep into the young black woman bent over the sex couch as it could go, began shuddering and shaking as she blew a load of spunk into the cunt in front of her.

"Sex workers. Honestly, it's where most of the profits of the bar have been going of late." Blaze shook her head. "I just can't get them to do anything else! If they don't fuck someone else, they spend the day blowing each other. Everything I can do to get them to not dehydrate. They're supposed to be out there spreading evil like the Four Dickgirls of the Apocalypse, but they just..."

Angelica's shoulders drooped. "Honestly, I don't know what to do. I can't turn them back without permission, and they love being dickgirls!"

Lois reached down and grabbed Blaze's dick. The smell and sound and sight of sex was getting her going, and she gently began to pump her lover's shaft.

The egg timer ran. "Change!"

The four dickgirls, absolutely heedless of their new audience, ran around the room again. They were flustered, laughing, cum dripping from their cocks, utterly happy. Even Jenny Dunlap, who was pushing rope into the sloppy pussy in front of her, the poor prostitute probably already filled with a couple virile loads grunting as the soft schlong was crammed into her well-creamed cunt.

"I think I have a solution," Lois said. "At least, until these dickgirls can get themselves under control. You need to open up a sperm bank & fertility clinic."

Angelica Blaze blinked.

"You think that would work?"

"Are they virile?"

"Yes," Blaze said. "Absolutely."

"Then you might as well do it." Lois dragged Blaze by the dick to the center couch. "Speaking of which, I think I could use a little fertilization myself..."

When she had entered the club that night, Lois Lane had been hoping to find the missing women—and so she had. Now, bent over a sex couch, a hard dick pounding into her fertile cunny, moaning as she was surrounded by whores in the exact same position, the reporter reflected that the night had been successful, albeit in a very unexpected way...and Blaze, unlike the other dickgirls, did not run around the room when the egg timer went off again. For her, there was only Lois Lane, her pussy the only one that she wanted to fuck.

Which, the reporter reflected, was a victory of the heart.