Talk to Tonya Wong

There was a narrow ladder that led down from the catwalk to the spaces between the sets. A secret panel that could be moved to allow access to to the room. Clever, clever, and yet also so utilitarian. Lois was used to thinking about things others didn't—like the kind of resources it would take to put this kind of operation in place, versus the payout. Even if whoever was behind this was charging top dollar for these women, and keeping them running 24/7...she didn't see how they could keep this up. It was just too much. Hollywood or theme park levels of production, maintenance. There was more to this than just a bordello for superfreaks...there had to be.

And Lois knew just who to ask...

Her breath fogged in front of her as she tiptoed to Tonya Wong. The tip of the stalagmite was brushing the Asian woman's clitoris, and Lois could see the fluids dripping down her leg...was that from the stalagmite melting from her body heat, or was she just that wet? Another question.

"My name is Lois Lane," she said, in a quiet whisper so none of the other women could hear her. "I'm a reporter for the Daily Planet. I came here looking for the women that had gone missing in the club above. I need to ask you a few questions."

This close, Lois could see how painfully erect Tonya's nipples were...but there were no bruises or other signs of injury, and her wide brown eyes, when Lois looked into them, were not dilated, as they might be if the woman was on ****.

"Mu-mu-my pussy..." the woman said, at last. "Stick your fingers into my pussy."