Blaze Offers To Let Lois Sample The Product

Lois felt nervous and anxious as Tyrell took her across the dance floor to the elevator. Butterflies in her stomach, an itch in her pussy, and surprisingly...giddy and unfocused. The doors to the freight elevator clanged shut, and then slowly lifted...and Lois found herself shaking, suddenly overheated.

Her eyes kept stealing back to Tyrell's crotch. She licked her lips, still able to taste him. Lois didn't like the taste of cum—what women except a complete bimbo did?—yet when her tongue found a little glob of unswallowed sperm, she felt a thrill of recognition. A shiver of excitement that went straight down her spine. The reporter took a deep breath, her braw suddenly tight, nipples pressing against the fabric, and wondered if she could "reward" Tyrell after they were done here.

Then the elevator clanged to a halt, shaking Lois out of her erotic reverie. Tyrell opened the door...and Lois found herself facing a converted loft apartment. No windows, and at a first glance it was empty...the furniture was basic, but also antique. Candles hovered like points of light in the darkness, some of them burned down to puddles of wax. An ancient table covered with a clutter of booze bottles, baggies of pills, piles of loose cash. A four-poster bed with carven headboard, with a bare mattress, no sheets. An ancient armoire that had to weigh several hundred pounds, a slab of a desk that any Satanist would gladly sacrifice a virgin on...

A flicker of movement drew Lois Lane's attention to the desk. It was stacked tall with glowing monitors...and the figure that had been sitting there, studying them, stood up.

She was tall, slim. A mane of wild, oily black locks fell down past her shoulders. The head was strangely shaped, like the bust of Nefertiti, and beneath the wide forehead were dark pits in which eyes hid, shadowed by her brows. She was lean to the point of emaciation, with barely any breasts to speak of, and walked barefoot on the floor, balanced on her toes, naked except for a pair of panties.

Her movement toward Lois brought a warm rush of air. The reporter blinked. Staring at this woman was like staring into an open oven.

"Blaze. Got a buyer for you," Tyrell said, but the almost naked woman held up a hand, silencing the black man.

She extended a hand...and Lois stood her ground as the back of the woman's fingers brushed the reporter's cheeks.

"A buyer," the woman said, and when she opened her mouth that wave of heat washed over Lois Lane's face. Eyes opened in those dark pits...pure white eyes, without pupil or iris, like two holes poked in darkness to an infinite white space beyond.

Definitely metahuman.

"I've got cash," Lois said, and realized she had forgotten the rest of her spiel.

"But do you even know what you're buying?" Blaze curled one finger in the reporter's dark hair.

The woman's other hand slid down into her panties...and Lois swallowed as she looked down and saw her pull something out, a wet-looking pink pill shaped like a little candy heart.

"Here," Blaze said, bringing the pill to the reporter's lip. "You must try a free sample. Before you buy any more."