What's Going On?

"This is a happening club, Rat," Lois gave his Prince Albert a gentle tug. "More happening than what we can see. What's going on here?"

He nodded. Lois noted the sweat run down his face, cold and a little rancid with fear. Sweat ran down her own ribs, but it was because of the flush of heat within her body. She shifted her hand inside his pants, to grip his half-hard member, rough thumb on the head of his trapped cock. He gave out something almost like a moan.

Lois let go of her arm, then slid her other hand down the front of the goth's pants, to cup his balls. He didn't move.

"Women come here. C-college cooze, for the most part. L-looking to score."

Lois' grip on his balls tightened at the word 'cooze.' She didn't like it. In response to the pressure, she felt Rat start to tighten and get hard.

"What happens to them Rat? Where do they go?" The reporter let a fingernail run across his taut scrotum. He gasped.

"The...the Black Door!" Rat said. "All the girls, the lady takes them down there, one by one. Never saw them again."

Almost unconsciously, Lois began a slow stroke as she massaged his balls. She liked to hear his little gasps of pain when the stroke ended with a flick of her thumb along his sensitive head.

"Tell me about the Black Door." She purred, as she began another stroke.

"It's the, the club beneath the club! That's where everything happens. All the VIPs and shit. I've...I've never been." He sounded a little dejected at that. Licked his lips. Lois gave pumped him a little faster. "And?" she said.

"They say...they say...it's like, just for women, right? No men. They say it's like...like...a cult."

Lois sped up her strokes. Felt that smooth little patch of skin along his taint tense. Rat responded in her hand; she played him like an instrument. Varied the rhythm a little, left him on edge and stopped.

"What kind of cult?" She said.

"I dunno," Rat said through gritted teeth, breath **** through in short gasps. "Just...I've seen something, okay? Downstairs. That's as close as I've gotten to it. Kind of shrine thing." Lois felt him relax. Her hand pumped again. He let out a croak. "Some of the Intergang types, they go down there with their cooze...argh." Rat let out a strangled gasp as Lois gripped him hard. "Aaa...ugh...I mean, it's this religion they have, and the Black Door, it's a kind of...holy place, for them. A shrine."

Lois pumped harder. She felt Rat tense in her hand. He was close. So was she. The reporter was as hot as Rat was, gulped down air. "You're going to show me where it is, aren't you Rat?'"

Suddenly, unexpected, she felt it, saw it, smelled it. A white stream hit the wall, rope after salty rope. A hot spurt of liquid over her hand, and she milked it, a sticky dribble that ran over her fingers, onto his belt, his pants, the floor. She almost laughed.

"Yeah," he said as he slumped against the wall. "I'll show you. Downstairs."