The Knife

Lois Lane picked up the knife. If it was a knife. The blade was flat and dull, with a rounded tip. She shined the light of the smartphone over it: the handle cast from cold, heavy metal in the shape of a nude, squatting woman, belly swollen, her tiny cleft little more than a notch.

Still...staring at it gave the reporter an idea.

Wincing at the weight of the stone embedded in her vaginal canal, Lois struggled to pull off her tight pants. It was harder than she thought it would be, her stomach seemed to be on fire, every effort and bending over a painful chore as the weight and mass between her hips shifted. But after several minutes, Lois kicked the garment free, and sat heavily, bottomless, in the middle of the magic circle.

She brought the knife up to her labia.

The metal was cold, but no colder than a speculum or other tool at the gynecologist's office. Lois took a deep breath and brought her fingers down to spread her lips and help guide the "blade" in. The flat, dull tip smoothly plunged through her inner folds, and Lois pressed it deeper...knowing she couldn't exactly stab herself, because there was something in the way, but wanting to be careful...

The handle was only about two inches from her labia when the rounded tip hit the stone cock with a slight "tink."

The reporter found herself holding her breath, and let it out. Now for the hard part. She was pretty sure this "knife" wasn't a weapon—it was some kind of midwife's tool, meant to ease birth. And if Lois was lucky, she could lever the thin metal "blade" between the walls of her pussy and the stone prick lodged deep within, maybe lever it out.

It was blind work, Lois unable to see what she was doing, using one hand to grasp the handle, and working the fingers of her other hand inside her poor abused cunny, guiding the blade as she sought to find the lip or edge of the stone cock. A few minutes painstaking work had her sweating and panting, body shivering at the inadvertent stimulation...but with a laugh she felt the rounded tip find the edge.

There was a sense of terrible release as she pushed the dagger in another couple of inches, until the handle was pressing against her pussy, two inches of "blade" between the stone cock and her pussy.

"Okay Lane," she said out loud. "Now to just work the dagger around...loosen up the old cooter...and try to get this thing out of you. Easy."

In the dark, Lois Lane's heart thundered, stomach feeling a little sick. She hoped it would be that easy...but something told her it wouldn't be.