End: Breed Her

Time did not slow down as Lois popped her cock free, grabbed Maria's hip to lift her skirt, and pressed the warm length of it up along the barmaid's bare slit. Lois felt like she could cream just feeling the heat as her meat slid along the top of the young woman's thighs, that spot of heat pulsing inside of her, pressure building between her legs, demanding release...

Heart pounding, Lois felt like her body was on automatic pilot, moving on its own, cock so **** to slam into that pussy and breed that hole that it took deliberate effort not to do it. The reporter trembled with the strain of restraining herself, fighting off the **** hunger for sex...and even as part of her wanted to hump Maria like a horny teenage boy, she found herself forming the words, asking the question.

"Tell me," Lois hissed through clenched teeth. "Tell me you want it."

Even if Maria wanted to, she couldn't go away. Lois' hands were locked on her hips, holding that beautiful ass right next to her crotch, and the shemale reporter could feel the heat of that pussy on her dick. Part of her knew it didn't matter whether Maria wanted it or not, but deep down inside Lois knew it was the only thing that mattered...and she tottered on the verge of ****, waiting for Maria's answer, not sure what she would do if the young woman said no.

"Fuck me," Maria whispered. "I want you to fuck me."

It was enough. With a quiet roar, Lois drew herself back, until the head of her cock slipped into those silky folds—and then she drove it home, Maria gasping at the sudden intrusion. Buried almost to the hilt, Lois wanted to cum right there...but some instinct held her back, and right now she was entirely a creature of instinct.

Lois began a hard, driving fuck, watching the generous ass jiggle each time her hips slammed into them, holding the hips tightly as she slid her cock in and out faster and faster, until it was a steady pussy-pounding blur. Maria held onto the doorframe, crying out for God in English and Spanish, but the reporter wasn't letting up, even as the pressure built inside of her...and every thrust, every push, showed the tramp stamp tattooed across the young woman's lower back.

CROATOAN

The sight of it made Lois' nostrils flare, her heart race faster, pulse pounding in her temples, and her erection stiffen until her cock felt like an iron bar...and then Lois felt Maria spasm and clench around her dick, then she felt the beginning of her release...

Lois fucked Maria through her orgasm, the cum pulsing out of the sore tip of her dick, hot seed spitting deep inside the young woman's hungry snatch. The reporter came until Maria sagged against the door, the barmaid's knees suddenly weak. With a growl, Lois roughly pushed Maria down until she was on her knees, ass in the air, pumping her semen into the young woman the whole time.

Knees akimbo, Lois mounted Maria from behind like she'd seen male dogs do to a bitch in heat. Her ejaculation felt unstoppable, her urethra burning as though she was pissing white straight into the barmaid's young fertile womb. All thought had left her, all qualms, all mores. Lois knew that it didn't matter who saw them, right now she was going to fuck this bitch pregnant—and if anyone else came by, she'd do the same to them too.

Elsewhere, on a monitor, Lex Luthor watched his latest experiment. Subtle scanners in the hallway read out vital statistics, monitored the flow of heat in their bodies, calculated tedious probabilities, recorded the entire encounter for posterity. He noted that the probability of impregnation for Maria was at 89.3%, rising for every milliliter of cum pumped into her fertile womb.

"When is she going to stop?" Mercy Graves asked, staring at the screen.

"Maria's been instructed to cover the trigger word if it lasts more than an hour," Lex replied with a bored tone. "Without further simulation, the subject's conditioning will cause her to enter a refractory period. The hesitation at the beginning is non-ideal, but within acceptable parameters...especially given how little time we've had with her. A few more conditioning sessions should remove any trace of conscience."

Mercy said nothing, only biting her lip. "How are we going to get her to come back for another session?"

Lex snorted. "She will do that on her own. Lois Lane is a consummate professional—driven, focused, persistent. We administered flunitrazepam in her 'recharge' supplement—the date **** ****. Retroactive amnesia, akin to an alcoholic blackout. All she will remember of tonight's episode is that she didn't find what she was looking for. Lois Lane will return for answers...and find her way back to us again."

Luthor watched Mercy squirm in her seat. Maria's chances of impregnation had increased to 94.9%. On the screen, the young woman was desperately trying to cover her tattoo with her shirt.

Lex smiled. "You're welcome to participate in the next session if you'd like."

Sometime later, Lois fell backwards, her limp prick sagging out of Maria's overfucked pussy. The lips were raw and unable to fully close to keep the cum from leaking out of them, and Lois saw the tell-tale bright red streaks that spoke of vaginal tears. Lips dry and body weak, Lois staggered to her feet, mind suddenly hazy.

As if on automatic pilot, the reporter crammed her cock back into her pants. She staggered past the prostrate young woman with the jizz dripping out of her, instinct leading her down the corridor...she was tired...thirsty...and wanted to go home.

Events got confused. Doors opened for Lois, though she didn't see who opened them. Someone pressed a bottled water into her hand and she drank greedily. The cool kiss of Metropolis air, the light of the moon overhead. There was a cab waiting outside the club. A short drive where no words were spoken, and Lois didn't remember paying the cabbie as she staggered out into the night again, in front of her apartment building.

The doorman, seeing that Lois Lane had had a wild night, ushered her into the elevator. She was riding a wave of exhaustion as her fingers tried to fit the key to the lock. It took the last effort of her mindfulness to close the door behind her.

She collapsed on the bed fully clothed, head pounding, darkness claiming her. The last conscious thought she had was:

Why does my dick hurt?

But the answer to that mystery, as with many others of that night, would not be apparent to Lois for a long time.