A Game of Truths

In the pitch darkness, Lois stood her ground defiantly. "What kind of game?" The reporter asked.

"You came seeking truths," the feminine voice said in the darkness. "Let us make this a game of truths, then. I will allow you ten questions. Each, I must honor truthfully. After each question, I will pose one for you. What you answer must be the truth. Neither of us can stop the game once it is begun; all questions must be answered."

"What's to stop one of us from lying?"

"We shall bind ourselves to a pact. All questions must be answered. All answers must be the truth. Do you agree?"

The whole situation stank of magic. Lois didn't know much about that, but she knew that supernatural creatures had to stick to their word. "Deal. But I go first. What happened to the four women that went missing—Diana Reynolds, Mara de la Cruz, Tonya Wong, and Jenny Dunlap?"

A light wind ruffled through Lois' clothes.

"To tell you what happened, you must know who I am: Blaze, daughter of the great wizard Shazam and a she-demon. Born of Hell and Earth, my fate has always waxed and waned between the two; mine are the appetites of both the succubus and the mortal woman—I feed on lust and corruption, but I hunger for...companionship. So as I grow lonely in the pit, I return once more to mortal realms, and seek out the company I so crave. Thus I created the Black Door—a tavern that has known many names, in many ages—where women can be free to be themselves."

The breeze shifted and turned, like an ethereal caress. The voice shifted to move with it, and Lois had to restrain herself from turning to follow it.

"Thick and thin, rich and poor, virgins and whores, all the wonderful variety of womankind...Diana and Mara, Tonya and Susan, they came to the club above, like you Lois. Seeking a good time." The voice was like a purr in her ear, but Lois knew the woman, or whatever she was, was just playing with her lack of orientation in the darkness.

The breeze slipped, unexpectedly, down the front of Lois shirt, picked at the loose lapels of her jacket.

"But there was an emptiness inside them. Deep needs that called out to me. That is what draws them to the Black Door. An answering darkness. Most of my clientele are...empty creatures. Wanting to spread their legs without guilt. Drowning their conscience in ****. Little more than animals to the rut, so caught up in their dreary little lives, unable to see behind the next tongue or pick in their well-plowed cunts. Ah, but those four are different. Like you."

A cool breeze blew across her crotch, between her legs.

"It isn't repression exactly...it is more... potential. Women that could be extraordinary, if they looked beyond themselves. They could be queens or courtesans, witches or demon-slayers, if their energies were properly directed. More than that, they had...imagination, intelligence, and strange needs that could not easily be answered."

The wind between her legs picked up in speed and ****, a sudden, not-unpleasant pressure of air buffeting the reporter's nether regions. She could feel it even through her pants.

"Except by me."

The wind ceased, suddenly. Lois was shaken by the loss of sensation.

"So they opened themselves to me—and I gave them what they wanted. I unlock their hidden potential—and in so doing bind them to me. Their pleasure feeds me, their bodies and minds serve me. You've seen them, my faithful acolytes and paramours. The crux of my new coven." There was a pause. "That's one. Now, for my question. What is your deepest, darkest sexual fantasy?"