End: A Lesbian Orgy

The door opened, as if by some pre-arranged signal. Women filed in, each naked save for the strap-on girded about their loins. The reporter's eyes went wide. She knew those women—their names, their faces from social media. These were the women who had gone missing, the ones that Lois Lane had come out tonight to find.

Only they had found her first. The four smiling young women knelt down and each grabbed a limb, to hoist Lois in the air.

"Where are you taking me!?" Lois gasped.

"There's a room with a bigger bed," Tonya Wong said. The young Asian woman giggled. "It has a bigger bed."

"And toys," Diana Reynolds added, the tall strawberry blonde grinning like the cat that got the canary.

"And a barrel of lube," Mara de la Cruz chimed in. The heavy-bottomed Latina had the biggest strap-on of them all. "You're going to need it!"

"Smoke and booze too," Jenny Dunlap added, as they stepped out the door.

Maria followed along behind them. Lois Lane had so many questions...but one thing she was sure of.

She was fucked. In the best possible way.

The night was long, and full of magic. Never in her life did Lois imagine she would taste so many pussies. Or have her holes stretched in so many new and exciting ways. She would never forget the sensation as Jenny Dunlap and Diana Reynolds both stretched her cunt out with their strap-ons at the same time. Or how she had taught Tonya Wong how to deep throat Mara de la Cruz's womb-tickler. Drinking tequila out of Maria's pussy. The cold ice-cubes stuffed in her own ass, filled with booze, and then four straws sucking it out. The pall of marijuana-smoke that hovered over everything by the time dawn rolled around. Maria holding her hair as Lois vomited into the toilet, as Mara's silicone shaft pumped the reporter's ass raw.

It was like the paradise of the assassins, to Lois Lane's ****-dulled mind. The hedonistic taste of bliss and abandon that the fanatics of Ismaili were said to have experienced before they were sent out on their suicidal missions.

Little did Lois Lane know, her absent-minded surmise was closer to true than she imagined.

Down below, Lex Luthor watched the proceedings. Tracked the progress of the nanites that had infected the reporter's system. Tiny robots now distributed throughout her nervous system. Programming her neurons to await his command. Normally, Lois Lane might have noticed the creeping infection...but not during a ****-and-booze-fueled sapphic orgy.

"You have loved well, Lois Lane," Lex Luthor said to himself as all his systems registered that the reporter was completely under his control. A Manchurian candidate, awaiting his order. To awaken...and strike...at any target he desired. She was not even aware that he had compromised her.

"But not at all wisely."

In the morning, a very hungover reporter would stagger away from the now-empty club, with hugs and kisses from her new friends. To shower and sober up a bit before work. Never knowing that she was now Lex Luthor's agent at the Daily Planet. Unaware of the danger she posed to her friends...and to Superman.

She would discover that, in time. Yet that is another story.