Bitches Come

The voice from Angelica's throat was inhuman. Lois could feel it rumble through her bones, deeper than the lowest bass note she'd ever heard. There was something in that voice to the growl of a big cat, the hiss of a serpent, the skitter of a spider across paper—it was a voice that reached past the ears and tickled parts of the brain directly.

Lois stared uncomprehendingly as a red stain spread over her Lover's skin...and as they disentangled themselves, she saw the shemale's outline and shimmer into something...thinner, leaner, more muscular, like a human built on the scale of a greyhound. There was no fat on that frame, except for the modest breasts, and curling horns, a translucent orange, appeared on her forehead.

"So...not human?" Lois asked, standing up.

Blaze coughed, dark cheeks flushing a deeper scarlet. "Half-human."

The reporter rubbed her abdomen. "Guess that makes the little one three-quarters human. Not too bad."

The demoness was about to speak when the first of the missing wandered behind the bar. Lois recognized Diana Reynolds, although only barely. The woman had shaved her head, which was covered in an elaborate tattoo, still in the scabby stage. She was dressed in a nondescript black t-shirt and slacks, black sneakers, and she was smiling. Lois felt suddenly conscious of her nudity...but in truth, Diana Reynolds barely looked at her.

One by one the women came behind the bar, she immediately came over to Angelica and knelt before the succubus, knocking her forehead against the dirty floor, and moving to kiss the scarlet foot.

"That's enough, acolyte." Lois noticed that the leg twitched, but stopped short of kicking the kneeling woman. "The fivefold kiss is not required."

"Yes, mistress!" Diana uttered eagerly, and before Blaze could stop her knocked her forehead against the floor again, then rose to one knee. "How may I serve you."

"Why don't you...help Miss Lane get dressed." The scarlet shemale said, and the shaven-headed woman eagerly went about her task.

Lois had an eyebrow raised when her lover dared to turn back to her. "'Acolyte.' 'Misstress.'" The reporter kept her tone even.

Blaze's explanation was interrupted by the sudden arrival of the other three missing women—all of them shaven bald, tattooed, and wearing identical nondescript black clothing—and all of whom repeated the head-banging, foot-kissing ordeal.

Silently, Diana Reynolds sidled up to Lois, holding the reporter's pants out to her. The reporter ignored the spectacle as Blaze tried to get them not to bow and got dressed, Diana helping the reporter squeeze back into her pants.

"So...how long have you been an acolyte to the mistress?" Lois whispered.

"Three weeks!" Diana smiled. "Ever since I received her dark blessing!"

"Uh huh," Lois clicked her teeth. "Is this before or after you refused to let her cum in you?"

"Oh, after." Diana nodded. "That's when she taught me...another means of pleasure."

"Right. Well, thank you for your help." Lois looked down at the ragged remains of her shirt and tossed them aside. The jacket could cover her nipples and keep her decent, at least for the moment.

The reporter turned to her lover, the cock that had impregnated her. The other three women had found Blaze's own clothes and helped her into them—a black two-part dress which didn't quite hide the bulge of her hefty cock. Lois actually admired the almost regal manner that the demoness put on as they served her. You'd think she'd been born to it...until she saw Lois tapping her toes on the floor of the bar, and a sheepish look stole across the features.

"So..." Angelica started. "I can explain."

"You started a cult." Lois stated, matter-of-factly.

"...yes." The demon flushed. It was amusing to Lois how quickly she could pick up on the slight darkening of those cheekbones.

"Is it a sex cult?" The reporter insisted.

"Sortof?" Blaze licked her lips with a long pink tongue. "Let me start from the beginning."