The Cult of Chastity

"It's fucking humiliating. How are we supposed to piss through these things?" The first voice said.

"You know what the Mistress says. If we want to build up our magical potential, we have to be chaste. You were the one who couldn't go a fucking month without jerking off." The second voice said.

"Yeah, well I joined this cult to get laid, not to get blueballs."

"Look, you've seen what she can do. What those acolytes of hers can do. I don't know about you, but think of what we can do with that kind of power!"

"Fuck power, look at this shit!"

Lois Lane slid forward, her ass on the edge of the seat, so that she could peek out through the gloryhole.

They were two men in their mid-30s. Heavyset, with unkempt beards and scraggly beards and glasses. One white and one Black. The white cultist had his jeans open, and Lois saw that around his genitals was a kind of stainless steel cage, ridiculously small, his flesh straining inside of it. There was a visible drop hanging suspended from the keyhole where the tip of the penis should be, and hanging underneath the hairy testicles was a heavy padlock.

"Well, a few more hours and it'll come off. Just wait until the ceremony. Midnight tonight, she'll claim our virginities and our souls, and we'll be able to do everything her female acolytes can do." The black cultist grinned. "We'll have all the pussy we can handle!"

The white cultist let his chin sink to his chest. Lois realized he was wearing a Dungeons & Dragons t-shirt...a vintage one, with the old TSR wizard on it. Nerd chic. With a sigh, he turned and bellied up to the urinal.

"I hope you're right."

So, the reporter thought to herself. The cult is meeting tonight...