Snoop

I'm in, Lois said. Now I just need to find out if the missing women are here.

She counted to twenty, and then cracked open the door. The madam was nowhere in sight.

The reporter looked down the corridor. Knocking at a random door seemed like a bad idea; it didn't seem likely that she could be pretending that she had to borrow a tube of lube or something. But there was the door at the end of the hallways, the unmarked one. That screamed security, and Lois Lane was almost positive that the rooms were all wired for sound and video.

So she sauntered to the door, heels sinking into the carpet. Good sound-proofing in these walls, she couldn't hear anything from the doors she passed. The lockpicks were hidden in the left sleeve of her jacket. One step away from the door, the reporter bent over as if she had broken the heel of her shoe. Her left hand rested on the doorknob to steady herself as she raised her leg up to look at the offending footwear.

Click-click-CA-lick

Lois felt the tumblers shift, gave her wrist a little twist, and the door opened.

The room was dark, except for the light of about sixteen monitors, set into a kind of wall surrounding a desk with three keyboards and a large ergonomic chair. There was a wheezing sound, and the creak of mechanical joints. Lois could see that each of the screens displayed some image from one of the brothel's rooms—several of which were occupied and "in use"—and including one that Lois immediately recognized as showing the door she had just come through, her ass on the screen for all to see.

Quickly and quietly Lois closed the door. She winced at the mechanical click as the lock engaged. The wheezing paused...and the chair swiveled.

He was black, and must have weighed three hundred pounds. Hair cropped close to his head, thick coke-bottle glasses, a complexion like the surface of a pizza. The grease-stained hoodie covered with anime-girl faces didn't quite cover his gut, and his flabby legs where hidden by massive grey sweatpants, which were pulled down to expose his cock and balls. One pudgy fist was wrapped his dick. The whole setup screamed "virgin" and "nerd."

"Y-you're not supposed to be here!" he said, voice high-pitched, jowls quivering.

"Sorry, the door was unlocked," Lois lied smoothly. "I'm new here. My name is Margot. Who are you?"

"I-I-I'm Leroy. I-I-I saw you come in. Y-y-you should be in y-your r-room."

Lois inched closer, eyes on Leroy's cock. It wasn't very long, but it looked almost as thick as a beer can.

"Leroy," she said. "Is it your job to watch the monitors?"

"Y-y-yes," he said. Despite his bulk, he seemed to sink against the back of his chair. "I-it's my j-job."

"And I bet you're good at it," Lois purred. "You like watching the pretty girls, don't you Leroy?"

The nerd swallowed hard, and Lois let a smile show on her face. Leroy, she was sure, was the key she needed to bust this story wide open. All he needed was the right motivation.