Until She Begins To Fight Back

Vandal Savage was relentless. His hands pawed at her breasts. Grabbed her throat and **** his tongue into her mouth. Left bruises on her arms. Scratched red lines down her body. Lois could feel her pussy being torn up by the constant forceful thrusts, each one designed to hurt her as much as maximize his own pleasure.

And she came.

As the women with the tired eyes held her down, as his cock pushed and pulled until red streaks of blood mixed with the frothy jizz that had already poured into her unprotected cunt, Lois Lane's traitorous body shook in unwanted, unavoidable climax. She shook and groaned each time, fought them harder and harder, but he never stopped, and her body never ceased to respond.

Then he began to hit her.

Light, painful, open-handed slaps. Contemptuous. Cruel. He struck her breasts more than her face. Punched that fat dick into her aching hole while he did it, as if to punctuate each conquest of his cock over her pussy. Lois Lane's limbs tensed, her body was streaked with sweat, and she knew that he had cum in her more than once but somehow the villain was still hard, still unsated...

Lois Lane lost track of time. Yet something changed inside of her. This passivity, this unrelenting torment...something in her nature balked against it. Deep down inside of her, something fought and clawed against the programming that had her spread her legs so easily for this Cro Magnon cock...and as her eyes met his, she caught for a moment the utter depths of cruelty there.

He had not yet begun. This was foreplay for him.

If Lois wanted to survive this night, she would have to do more than lie back and take it. She would need to fight.

Resolve hardened inside of her. The ****-out women were tired, her arms were sweaty, their grip weak. She might be able to break free and have one good shot at him, if she picked her moment correctly...