End: Pull Down Mercy's Pants And Push Her Toward Lex Luthor

"Oh, for the love of..." Lois Lane shook her head, grabbed Mercy Grave's pants, and tugged them down around her knees. The bodyguard's prick jumped out, slinging a drizzle of precum. With a shove, the reporter sent the dickgirl stumbling into Lex Luthor's arms.

"Just fuck already!" Lois growled.

"Mercy!" Luthor growled. "Get ahold of yourself. You've let an intruder into my innermost sanctum, and..." He sniffed. "Are you drunk?"

The dickgirl wasn't listening. Her hands tore at Lex Luthor's gi, ripping it open. The reporter caught a flash of pale, hairless skin, and a half-erect prick. Then Mercy Graves buried her face in his crotch. His hands grappled ineffectively with Mercy's shoulders for a moment as he sought to throw her off him.

Which meant that he wasn't watching what Lois Lane was doing.

The reporter grabbed Luthor's gi and tugged it down around his elbows. With the drunken dickgirl sucking his cock and clinging to him in lovesick adulation, the billionaire genius mad scientist was unprepared and unable to stop the reporter as she used the sleeves of his shirt to bind his arms behind his back.

"Damn you, Lane!" he growled. "What are you..."

Knees are meant to fold one way. A slight tap on the back of the knees was all it took to get Luthor to begin to fold...and then was half tied-up as the reporter pressed him down onto his knees. Mercy pulled her face from his prick long enough to see what Lois was doing...and then she grinned savagely and went to help.

Which is how the smartest man in Metropolis ended up with his ass in the air, pants down around his legs, as Mercy Graves rubbed the head of her cock against his butthole.

"Oh, Mister Luthor," she said. "I've wanted this for so long...you never needed any of those sluts. I would have been your whore...if only you could have seen me as more than just an employee!"

Lois Lane didn't catch Luthor's answer to that. All she could hear was the muffled roar as Mercy Grave's cock pushed its way slowly into his ass. The assembled space-sluts watched with interest, hands stroking their cocks with professional interest.

"He never let us put it in," one of them said. "He'd suck our cocks sometimes, or let us lick his asshole, but he said taking a dick was 'too gay.'"

"Right!" Lois Lane said as she staggered up. The reporter didn't want to know how deep in his own strange closet Lex Luthor was. Mercy Graves was well in the saddle now, her hips moving on their own, drunken face locked in bliss as she slowly, methodically enjoyed the pleasures of Lex Luthor's ass. "Is there any sort of a phone around here? With an outside line?"

One of the whores pointed a languid finger toward a panel on the wall that seemed to be a glowing circuit; a moment's inspection revealed this ornamental panel concealed a telephone.

The clap of Mercy's thighs against Lex Luthor's butt cheeks formed the background noise as the reporter made the call to the Justice League hotline.

"I still can't believe Lex Luthor escaped again," Superman said, as he handed Lois Lane a much-needed cup of black coffee.

"I don't know what to tell you," the reporter said as she stared at Batman. "One moment Mercy Graves had him pinned down, confessing her eternal love for him, and the next moment they escaped through that secret tunnel I didn't even know was there."

The Caped Crusader's eyes took in the ripped gi, the odd body fluids on the floor, and the escape tunnel which hid behind yet another decorative panel.

"I suppose Mercy knew of some secret safe house," he said. "Well stocked, perhaps for weeks or months. Far away from everyone. Just the two of them."

Lois Lane sipped her coffee. It hid her smile. By the time Mercy Graves had left with him, Lex Luthor had been moaning like a girl.

"Well, at least we've rescued these women." Wonder Woman said, then added in disgust. "Although it will be difficult to prove any real crimes have taken place...they're technically all LexCorp employees who volunteered for medical experiments in gender alteration. The cosmetic surgery was all written off as employee perks."

"I believe the alterations go beyond their bodies," J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter said. "I can feel unnatural lust and passivity in their minds. I believe they have been subject to mental conditioning to make them more effective in their roles."

As soon as the women were free of their chains and collars, they had flocked to the Martian. Even now, they pressed their silicone-swollen breasts against him as they crowded close, and ran their hands over his green, bald dome.

"Do Martians like chicks with dicks?" One of them asked.

"Our species is not constrained to mere Terran standards of gender or beauty. We enjoy all manner of genitalia on our partners," the Martian said.

"What about harems?" another said as she wrapped her hands around one great green bicep. "Do Martians have like...group marriages?"

Wonder Woman scowled. Batman smirked.

"I think the victims have accommodated well to their current circumstances," Superman said. "But what about you, Lois?"

The reporter drained the last of the cup. Right down to the bitter dregs.

"Me? I have a column to write. This may have been the weirdest night out I've ever had—but Great Caesar's ghost, what a story!"