Scribe's POV

*groan*

Ohhh, fuck. What a hangover. How much did I drink last night? I thought I'd decided to stick with champagne. I didn't think I could hold enough bubble water to get me drunk enough to justify this. I'd think a hwadache like this would at least take tequila.

*shift*

*moan*

That did not help. *smack smack* Well, I don't have the usual morning mouth that I get after a good drunk. I don't taste booze or upchuck. That's a good sign. I must've managed to keep everything down. Of course, I probably wouldn't have this piledriver in my skull if I'd thrown up some of what I drank.

*runs tongue over teeth* I must've brushed my teeth before I passed out. I'm getting more intelligent in my old age. I can't remember...

That isn't good. I've never gotten to the black-out stage before. Well, unless you count that one time I woke up wearing my clothes inside-out. That was better than Lawrence, though. We never did figure out how he got ahold of that State Trooper uniform, but I noticed that he didn't get any speeding tickets on the highway after that.

I'd better check for embarrassing entanglements. I slide my right arm carefully out to the side. Okay, that's the edge of the bed. I slide my left arm out, and it keeps on slinding. Wait a minute. I sleep in a single bed. The booger is narrow. What's going on here? Uh-oh. Unless I'm not in my own bed. Eesh. This could be awkward. I slide my leg out to the side, scooting when necessar. I eventually encounter the other side of the bed.

Whew. No one there. So, unless they're in the potty, or real considerate, and are making me breakfast, I'm alone. Maybe I just spent the night in someone's guest bedroom? I hope so. I'd hate to think I got deflowered and didn't know it. That really would be losing my virginity. Stupid term, though. Sounds like you misplaced it. 'Did you look under the sofa cushions? Maybe it's there'.

I do a quick physical tally of aches and pains. Just my head, so I'm going to assume that I'm still factory direct. I'm pretty sure that I'd feel something if I'd done the deed anytime recently.

Okay, I was somewhere other than my own bed. On the plus side, I wasn't naked. I was...

Wait a minute. I moved my legs again. Something doesn't feel right. I reached up under my skirt, running my hand up my leg..

. ...past my hip, to my side with no fucking panties anywhere in between!

Shit! This can-not be a good sign! I think that my reaching a state where I'd remove my panties and forget them somewhere would approach 'she's-got-alcohol-poisoning-pump-her-stomach' territory.

Okay, Scribe. Think calmly. You did not remove your panties. That means that someone else did.

Holy crap, I've been pantsed. Thank God they were clean. Mom said to wear nice underwear in case I got in an accident, but she never mentioned possible lingerie snatchers.

By now I'm afraid to open my eyes. Okay, think, think. Bruce won me at the auction, right? The last bid I remember was about twenty-five large, that pretty much had to be it. I mean, it was, like, about twice what I make a year. Quadruple, if you consider it in 1960s cash. Damn, how impressed was I? I wouldn't think he'd be the kind to take advantage of a drunk woman. But then again, when I'm drunk, I might be the kind to take advantage of him. Can't say for sure. Never got sloshed around someone that yummy without chaperones. I suppose the main question would be, 'Did we have a good time?'

I'm trying to avoid certain disturbing thoughts here, and I know it. Bruce wouldn't do something like that. Well, maybe Bruce would, but I'm pretty sure the Batman persona would whoa him up on it.

And I suddenly recall that the auction didn't come to a natural conclusion. The simps in ski masks. Yeah, now I remember. Something that cliched, how could I forget? Man, that knit must've been hellish in this heat. I hope they all get rashes. Let's see... They broke in. They started looting the place. Supey couldn't change because of the audience, so...

I don't need a blanket, I'm providing my own heat with the blush. Eey-ah. I provided diversionary tactics. I'm glad now I invested in the fancy booby hammock. Which... A quick feel, and a wash of relief. I am still wearing. Okay, distraction provided, Clark Kent, exit to broom closet. What next?

Think, think, think. Yeah, Scribe exit to kitchen. Waitaminute. There were donuts in there, but I didn't snag one. Why not, if I knew Superman was about to do his bit? I mean, things were pretty well settled after he got out of sight long enough to change. I must not have stayed in the kitchen, but where...

There was only one other place to go. The alley. And in the alley was a big ol' car. And in the car was a back seat. And in the back seat was...

I groaned. "Oh, nooooo. Lex Luthor."

"Yes?"

My eyes pop open. I may have flashed my bosum earlier, but I'm feeling rather protective of it right now, and I clutch the sheet up high. He's sitting comfortably in a chair beside the bed, watching me. The bastard is smiling. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Watching you sleep. You look so innocent. Even the tiny bit of drool was rather charming."

I wipe my mouth quickly, looking around. I don't know this place. It's an ordinary enough looking room, but it's unfamiliar. "This isn't my room."

He crosses his legs, folding his hands on his knee. "Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't. I know my room, and this isn't it."

"Let me rephrase that: It's your room now."

I take a moment to let that sink in. I say, as calmly as I can manage, "No--fucking--way."

"Interesting qualifier you used there, my dear. Very perceptive."

I cross my legs under the covers. "You didn't. I can tell."

"Not yet."

I don't think two words could ever be any more chilling. Well, except maybe 'tax audit', and that's in a whole 'nother realm of experience. The screwing it refers to is only metaphoric. I reacted in a mature and intelligent manner. I flipped the covers up over my head.

I heard Lex chuckle. "Oh, come now. That only works with the boogey man. Despite rumors to the contrary, I am not the boogey man. He's a pussy."

"If you touch me, I'll scream so loud that people will call 911 back in my home universe."

"Since they're in your universe, they won't do you much good here, will they? And we don't have this 911 thing over here. If we did, I hardly think the noise will get past the sound-proofing. I've gone through quite a bit of trouble and expense for you, young lady."

"If you're expecting awe and gratitude... Aw. Forget the gratitude." I lowered the sheet, realizing that if I got pounced on, it might be better not to be any more restricted than I had to be. "I seem to be missing a certain article of clothing. You wouldn't happen to know what happened to them, would you?"

He pulled a wad of white cloth out of his pocket, and shook it open. "I assume you mean these?" They were my panties, all right. As I watched, he waved them under his nose, sniffing for all the world like he was savoring the bouquet of a fine brandy or wine.

"That... is disturbing. Can I have them back?"

"Mm. You might want to have them laundered first."

"I only put them on before I went to the auction. I didn't get them that dirty."

"No, you didn't. I, on the other hand..."

I winced. "Say it isn't so."

"They're very soft for cotton."

The sheet went over the head again. "Squick squick squick squick squick! That is entirely more than I needed to know in this lifetime. You can keep them."

"Thank you. I'm considering having them framed. Eventually. Dear, am I going to have to remove that sheet? I don't want to deprive you of any of the little comforts if I don't have to."

I lowered the sheet again and pointed to a door in the corner. "Is that door locked?"

"No." I started edging toward the side of the bed, trying to gauge if I had a chance of reaching it before he grabbed me. "That's the bathroom. It would be cruel to lock you out of it, and pointless from a security standpoint." He waved his hand toward a door on the other side of the room. "However, that door is locked, and shall remain so unless I am in the process of entering or leaving."

I sighed heavily. "Please tell me that you've kidnapped me for ransom." He shook his head. "You plan to use me as a hostage because of my fame to negotiate something?" He shook his head again. I knew what was going on, but I desperately didn't want to. "I was on the list for a scavenger hunt?"

He smiled. "I love your sense of humor. I hope you'll be able to retain it, but I rather doubt you will."

"I should warn you before you try anything. I know that you people don't have much to worry about over here in the way of social diseases. Well, they have a little something called AIDS where I came from, and you really don't want to mess with that. I'm patient Zero for this world."

He smiled again. "Nice try. According to that physical you had, you're in robust health."

"Physical?"

"For that nice little freebie insurance policy."

"You mean you...?" I scowled. "I told Lois there was no such thing as a free lunch."

"And it would be quite hard for you to have contracted a sexually transmitted disease without actually having had sex."

I think I turned a lovely shade of creme de menthe. A few people knew about my maiden state: Superman, Lois, Jimmy, and Clive. But I hadn't exactly done press releases on it. Knowing that he knew shook me big time. He could tell, and I could tell that it amused him, the son of a bitch. So I tried to put up a brave front. "That exam was a couple of weeks ago. A lot can happen in a couple of weeks." Maybe if he thought I was used goods...

"It will be easy enough to determine."

Crap. Okay, time to reason with the unreasonable. "Look, I know from long experience in comic book reading that this sort of enterprise never suceeds. I've got a friend out there with X Ray vision who has been known to rip the top off buildings in order to get to something inside."

"Yes, however, he feels bound by the silly rules of law pertaining to 'legal search', and won't go ripping up any of my property unless he has just cause. And he won't be locating you so easily, because I took the precaution of having this room lead lined."

"Don't you think that a lead lined room in one of your buildings will make him suspcious?"

"Oh, I have no doubt. But then, I have dozens of buildings all over the city and surrounding area, and quite a few of them have similar lead lined rooms." He smiled. "No judge on earth would give him permission to break into all of them. I'd say the odds are on my side."

"I hate people who think ahead."

"No need for that, my dear. You'll have plenty of excellent reasons to hate me before long." He stood up, reaching for his belt. Sheet up. "Stop that, or I'll strip you the rest of the way."

"Does that statement mean that I have a chance to keep my clothes?"

"For the time being, if you co-operate."

"Define co-operate."

"Not much for right now. You may not believe this, Scribe, but I'm very good at postponing my own gratification. What with you being a virgin, there are just so MANY possibilities. I'm going to take my time. All I intend to do right now is... shall we say, relieve a little tension? If you sit there like a good girl and watch, I'll leave you alone for a while."

"You're kidding, right?"

"It's your choice. You can either practise a bit of voyeurism, or I can pop your cherry right now. Which will it be? If you won't watch, I need to go get condoms before I go any further."

"Jesus." Anything to keep him off me a little longer. I lowered the sheet, crossed my arms, and tucked my chin, trying to look beligerant instead of scared.

"Sensible girl." He came over to the side of the bed. I started to lean away, and he said, "Sit still. I'm not going to touch you yet, but I want you to stay right there. Keep your eyes open, and don't look away from me unless you want me to finish this as a duet instead of a solo. Do you understand?" He'd reached into his fly and eased out his cock, which was more than half-hard.

I nodded my understanding, not trusting my voice right then. Plus I wasn't too keen on the idea of opening my mouth with him standing there like that, if you know what I mean.

Okay, after a fair selection of videos and magazines at home, and a few romps with Clive and Superman, I knew what to expect. He was... how do I put this? His ego and his IQ weren't the only things big about him. I hadn't thought it was possible to get any more worried than I already was, but once again I proved myself wrong. The anxiety factor went way up.

And that seemed to please him, the snot. At least he didn't talk to me about it. He just went about his business, stroking and squeezing with increasing speed and strength. Then, right at the end, he whipped out my panties and they got another step closer to laundry hell.

My heart was thudding as he wadded them up and put them away again. He was staring at me as he zipped back up, and I felt the need to say something smart-ass. Don't ask me why. Death wish, I suppose. Anyway, I said, "Do all men make funny faces when they come?"

He just shrugged. "I couldn't say. I've never had the desire to look at another man's face during that particular happy event." He reached over and patted my cheek, and I cringed back. "I'm looking forward to seeing what you look like when you climax, though."

"You'll never know."

"We'll see." He went to the door. "There are some breakfast things in the mini refrigerator over by the dresser. I have to get to work. I'll try and get something to you for lunch." He left.

I waited for a minute, then crawled out of the bed and went over to inspect the door. I tried the handle gently. From the other side, I heard Lex Luthor's voice say, "You're just going to frustrate yourself even more, Scribe. Have breakfast and relax. It doesn't have to be a fate worse than death, you know."

I turned and leaned back against the door, sighing. "Oh, cripes."