A Strap-On

Even as the words came out, Lois Lane's cheeks flushed hotly. She crossed her arms in front of her exposed breasts and turned to face away from the direction of Mercy's voice. Grit her teeth as she waited for the inevitable follow-up.

"And how do you use it?" Mercy Graves' voice came down from the speakers.

Lois whirled, and the dark skirt swirled.

"I fuck men up the ass, okay!? I get them down on their knees like little bitches and make them suck my silicone shaft, and then I cram it up their boi-pussies!"

The reporter quivered in embarrassment and rage. Her swollen lips instinctively dropped into a pout. In truth, Lois had rare opportunity to use her strap-on—most men were too insecure to even countenance it—but the rare times that Lois had been with anyone willing to indulge her little kink, she had enjoyed it immensely. Not that Mercy Graves and Lex Luthor needed to know any of that.

Mercy Graves was silent for a moment, as if to process this information.

"And would you ever use a strap-on on a woman?"

Lois Lane blinked. Her eyes went wide. Heart suddenly hammered in her chest. In truth, she hadn't really thought about it before...but now... The reporter's tongue slid over her plump, sensitive lips. Panties suddenly a little damp. She told herself it was just the effects of the Kryptonite that had altered her sexuality. Yet she had to answer truthfully.

"I mean, I wouldn't refuse if asked," Lois Lane said.

The tray that held Lois Lane's outfit slid back into the wall...and another tray slid forward. This one contained a familiar-looking harness, and a very realistic-looking black phallus, a little over six inches long and an inch and a half wide at the base. There were black molded testes too...and the longer Lois looked at it, the more uneasy the reporter felt. There were little details that were off. The harness was made out of some kind of military-grade ballistic fiber, the base of the phallus that would press against her clit was a flush metal circle, and the prick was almost too realistic in its detail, right down to the skin grain.

"Put it on, Lane," Mercy Graves said. "I have a task for you. Do it well, and you'll be out of here."