The Women Are In Danger!

With the shortstack reporter back on the case, she and the demonic dickgirl—now in a slightly more human guise, sans the red skin and horns—quickly squeezed back into their clothing. Lois Lane hardly noticed how her lacy bra had turned into boulder holders fit to barely contain her new milkbags, or how the tight red pants rose low enough in the back that people could see the black thong running up the crack of her ass. In fact, Lois only briefly wondered why she was bothering to wear underwear at all; it was damn inconvenient when she wanted some dick or to let the girls out for some air.

Blaze gave the information she had, and Lois Lane did the rest with her phone. It was amazing what a journalist could find out, with just a little more information...and it didn't take long for Lois to find the bits and pieces she was missing: newly registered websites, very x-rated ones, no content yet but the domain registry included an address not far.

"Field trip," Lois said, and the demonic dickgirl followed in the reporter's wake. Why, didn't say, but as the reporter's hips rolled and her fat booty jiggled, she was fairly positive that Blaze's eyes were stuck on the short woman's assets...and would love to get another crack at that pussy.

Maybe I'll even let her, Lois thought, feeling how sloppy her cunt was. I don't like to go to bed alone if I can help it.

New memories were flooding the reporter's mind as they pushed their way through the club and back out onto the street. Lois Lane now recalled her collection of sex toys, arranged by size and shape, and how she had trouble falling asleep without at least one of them snug inside of her. The kind of thing which they old Lois Lane would have found appallingly slutty, but which the new Lois recalled with warmth. There was nothing quite like settling down after a hard day's work to a swathe of lube and big silicone cock up her cunt as she caught up on her reading and enjoyed a cup of tea.

A real dick, however, would be a nice change of pace.

It was two blocks to the address, and Lois glowered at all the tall people around her, staring down her cleavage and trying not to look like they were. She was only about 4'8" at this point...not a little person, exactly, but it meant that she would only have to stoop to kiss the tip of most of the dicks that got hard as they passed. Lois licked puffy lips, remembering what that tasted like...

Yet as soon as they rounded the corner of the street the address was on, Lois Lane knew they had a problem.

Unmarked white van outside the door. Pair of beefy guys in blue jumpsuits without labels on them, gloves and face masks, baseball caps and sunglasses at night. They were moving what looked like rugs, rolled up and wrapped in plastic, but the driver had the engine running and there was a fourth one watching guard.

Lois crossed the street, Blaze trailing behind. The reporter walked straight past the van, caught a glimpse of three other "rugs"—one of which had a six-inch high heeled pump sticking out of it. The same kind that Lois had in her closet back in her apartment; real "fuck me" pumps.

"Shit," Lois murmured. "Something going down."

"What?" said, looking down at her companion. Blaze was tall enough that if she stopped suddenly, the demonic dickgirl's tits would rest on the top of the reporter's head. Lois knew that because she stopped suddenly, just to feel the comforting masses up there. then she turned around, staring up at Blaze and grabbing her ass with both hands, so that onlookers would just think she was having a moment with her dickgirlfriend.

"That van. The women are being kidnapped!"

"Oh," Blaze blinked. She'd left her demon eyes on, pure white without pupil or iris. They gave Lois the creeps...or maybe turned her on a little. It was hard to tell. "What do you wish to do?"

"Find out who's behind it," Lois said firmly. "And kick their ass!"