Epilogue: Lois Lane's New Job

"Think of it as a side hustle, sweetmeat," Angelica Blaze said. She gave Lois Lane's breasts a little squeeze through the golden dress. The wonderbra did absolute wonders for her cleavage. "You like getting fucked up the ass, right? So think of it like a date, except you don't have to get to know him, don't have to waste any time on small talk, and you get paid at the end of it."

The reporter-cum-prostitute was nervous, though she tried not to act like it. Part of her concern was the dress itself. There was a heart-shaped gap cut out over her ass, putting her buttocks on clear display...and her freshly cleaned and lubed asshole felt strangely exposed.

A part of Lois couldn't believe she was really doing this. Only a couple hours earlier, she had been at the Daily Planet, where she was a headlining investigative reporter. Now, here she was in a brothel, wearing a blonde wig and with her face heavily made up, about to get paid hard cash to take a cock up her ass.

It made her clitty hard.

Blaze smiled at that. She seemed to know, though Lois never figured out how, about the spell of desire. How Lois's breasts were bigger than they had been, the new piercings. Under the madame's direction, Lois had learned a degree of control. Now she could go from a pierced pussy to a pierced cock and balls with barely a thought. Make her lips a little puffier, her tits could go up or down a cup with barely any effort, her skin tone could shift from albino pale to dusky to tanned to almost midnight black. The reporter wasn't sure exactly what the limits of the ability were, but now, after weeks of work, the dickgirl said that Lois was ready.

"Your client is going to come in any second," Angelica Blaze said. "Just lay down on the bed. Do whatever they want...but remind them it's extra, okay?"

"Okay," Lois said, her heart pounding.

She sidled into her room. Golden curtains covered the wall, golden sheets on the double bed, a rich amber carpet. On the bedside table, which had been painted gold, was a yellow ceramic bowl filled with gold-colored condoms. It was all a bit tacky for Lois Lane's tastes...but then she smiled as she thought of her golden dress, the blonde wig, the gold lipstick and nail polish...

"I guess I'm a bit tacky too," she said out loud.

The other door opened. Lois Lane's eyes opened at the rough-looking bruiser that walked in. He had to duck under the door, and turn at an angle because his shoulders were too broad otherwise. There were band-aids across his rough, scarred face; the greying hair had been cropped into a crew cut, and he was dressed like a dockworker with the stained jeans and white wifebeater over his scarred, muscled chest...except for the long duster coat he wore, that ran all the way down to his heavy boots.

"What do they call you?" He barked.

"Goldie," Lois said, automatically.

"Hmm," he grunted. "Turn around."

She did. Felt his eyes run down the back of her, and focus on her exposed bum.

"Go kneel over the bed," he said.

Suddenly breathless, Lois did as she was told.

She heard him hang up his coat on a hook on the back of the door. The metal-on-metal riff as he unzipped his pants.

Huge hands gripped her ass and spread her cheeks. Lois swallowed, realizing she was about to take the step from which there was no going back.

"A condom!" she said.

"I'm clean," he said and pressed forward.

Lois Lane moaned like the whore she was as the cock slid inside of her. Not as big as Angelica's—but it was big enough, and stiff as a length of rebar. The big man leaned over her as Lois grabbed the golden sheets. One hand pressed into her right shoulder, the other kept a grip on her left hip...and he plunged away. Not too fast, not too hard, but with a relentless, driving need. By instinct, Lois felt her genitalia switch, so that she had a little cock with a big ballsack hanging out between her thighs, which she couldn't open with this dress, and her client's sack hit hers with a steady, pounding rhythm that made Lois gasp...and gasp...and gasp...

Something about that seemed to excite him. Without pause, his left hand left her hip and reached down to grab at his cock, which was stiff and dribbling onto her dress. He began to stroke it downward with his big hand, and now she could hear him breathe harder as he plugged away at her ass with greater fervor, the whole bed shaking. Her ass began to burn a little, and Lois could feel the pressure build inside of her, and the head of his cock was rubbing against her swollen prostate and she swore he knew it, because he altered the depths of his strokes, relentlessly pushing his head into that little swollen nub over and over and over and...

"Aaaah!" Lois gasped, the hot seed spurting from her little dick.

That pushed her customer to even greater effort, and Lois could feel her cock spurt a little more every time his dick hit her prostate, eliciting another little gasp, and he kept milking her like that for what felt like far too long...until her urethra burned, and she had to pee...and just when she couldn't squeeze out another drop of jizz, he pushed forward and unloaded inside of her, hot warm baby batter bursting deep inside her colon...and he let out a little sigh.

"That was pretty good," he said. "Tell you what Goldie...I think you got a regular."

Lois Lane smiled and struggled to breathe. She loved her new job.