The Walk of Shame

Lois Lane, nude and hairless, walked forwards, head held high. She had come this far. She would not falter now.

The hands with their threatening blades retreated, leaving Lois all alone. The glass walls ended. The demonic crowd, tugging at their obscene pricks, crowded in on her. She could smell their filthy bodies, the locker-room reek of their sweaty cocks. The path narrowed, and Lois had to slow her walk, picking her way carefully as it shrank to only eight inches across, one foot in front of the other, hips swaying...

None of them touched her. But as Lois looked down at the narrowing path, she could see the evil eyes of their cocks staring at her...and one horned, goat-headed freak dared inch in closer than the next, slavering madly...and then erupted in a high white arc, the warm strand landing on her bare left foot.

Like the leak that begins a flood, the others began to go off, one after another.

Lois Lane's mouth was set in a grim line as the air filled with arcs of sperm, some thin and watery, some thick and yellowish. Some of it landed on her bare feet, sticky streams lacing her feat, splashing her ankles, rising higher and higher...but most of it was landing on the path in front of her, which was down to four inches across, the reporter had her hands out on either side, recalling the days as a girl on the balance beam...but balance beams weren't this slippery, and the smell was thick about her now.

The path began to descend, and Lois struggled to stay aright on the narrow, slippery path. She could feel the weird drop, because the crowd was all about her now, the streams of rank jizz reaching higher and higher...past her knees and up her thighs. Lois was walking among them now as the masturbating crowd ejaculated over her hips, trying to aim their sperm at her belly so that the streams would flow down her crotch and drip off her labia.

Still she descended.

The path was leading below the level of the crowd now. The cocks were rising higher and higher, demons scrabbling around one another, fists pumping on their cocks as they spat their seed higher and higher on her chest. Lois kept her head raised as high as she dared, but she knew she had to look at the path right in front of her, and she could see and feel the white streams spray on her breasts, drip off her nipples, and every step brought it higher...and higher...

Lois Lane's lips trembled as the first hot ejaculation hit her chin. She was breathing through her nose, lips sealed tight as the cocks, now at eye-level, aimed for her face. Latecomers rained a hot spray on her back and buttocks, but the reporter knew most of them were intent on covering her with their seed, their stench filling her head, seeming to sink into her pores. The reporter wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball or scrub her skin off...but she knew this was just a test. They couldn't hurt her, couldn't stop her.

She passed below the level of the crowd, a foul shower of drops splattering on her from up above...but to her relief the path widened once more. The noise of the crowd faded and finally vanished, and Lois was walking on level ground once more, inching forward in the darkness.