They're In The Toilets

"They still wanted to be of service," Blaze said, wiping down the bar with a rag. "And I had hopes that one of them would come around, eventually. So I put them to work in the toilets. Cleaning, you know."

Lois Lane swallowed. She could still taste the sticky goo that Blaze had sprayed down her throat. Could feel the big bulges moving through her stomach. It was weird, like having eaten too large of a meal, except they were staying all in one place. Like a pair of baseballs slowly being carried along by her muscles.

"I think I need to see it," the reporter said.

"Of course!" Blaze smiled and gave Lois her hands, helping her up.

The bottomless pair drew no looks from the people in the club. They crossed the floor to the heavy oak door with elegant brass fittings, marked only with the word Ladies on a shiny plaque.

They emerged into a very large and tastefully-appointed bathroom. Spotlessly clean blue and white tile. Vases of fresh flowers. A wide series of white sinks, a topless attendant standing ready with a pair of tongs and hot towels. Several stalls. And, opposite the stalls...

There were four women, naked, ankles and wrists chained to a long pipe set against the floor. Lois recognized them immediately. Jenny Dunlap, Mara de la Cruz, Tonya Wong, Diana Reynolds—these were the women that Lois had been searching for, the ones that had gone missing.

"I don't..." Lois started.

Then a toilet flushed.

A woman emerged, pants down around her ankles. She waddled forward to the nearest of the women—Jenny Dunlap, the tall blonde—and turned around. Eagerly, the blonde leaned forward, burying her face among the woman's cheeks.

"That's it," the woman moaned. "Get deep in there!"

Lois took half a step back, horrified.

"That's...disgusting!"

"No more so than a bidet, I assure you," Angelica Blaze's hands caught Lois Lane's shoulders. "The 'cleaners' are freshened up and sanitized between rounds by the attendant. Some of the customers don't even come in here to pee. Can you imagine what it would be like if you could get eaten out whenever you want?"

Lois was leaning back into Blaze's hands, her eyes on the face of the woman getting her asshole eaten out by Jenny Dunlap. The eyes were closed, face in a kind of half-smile, utterly lost in bliss. Like a kitten getting licked clean by its mother.

"You should try it," Blaze urged. "It'll do you good."