What happens?

A whole lotta nothin'. But then!

With one final exertion, Lois managed to extricate the bottle. She hadn't really had time to examine it thoroughly at the club, but now that she could she could clearly see that it was just an ordinary bottle. An ordinary empty bottle. All that trouble for a dead end. It's not like she could go back to the club and demand to know why they had taken so much effort to hide an empty bottle. At least she'd gotten a bit of cock out of all of it. Not much though, just enough to make her wish she had more. Oh, well. She had come back to the hotel to take a shower and maybe a visit from Mr. Shower-head would be enough to, if not satisfy, at least pacify her. As she started to head to the bathroom Lois caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her lips were shiny with the remnants of her still slightly sticky prize, and the sight of her taut, curvy, and cum stained body made her smile. "I look so damned hot right now," she thought. "August Ames eat your heart out." What would the world think if they saw her like this? "Pulitzer Prize winner Lois Lane, covered in cum and loving it. Film at 11." She could think of dozens of slurs and epithets they would label her with...Label her wi...Label! Maybe there was a clue on the label! Forgetting all about the shower Lois rushed back and began scrutinizing the label on the bottle. Just as she thought, instead of an ingredients list there were what appeared to be a number of addresses. This must be how the other members of whatever the hell this conspiracy was kept track of each other. She quickly got dressed, splashed some water in her face to wipe off the most obvious traces of cum, and with a copied list of the addresses set off once more on her undercover investigation.