Bound To An Altar

Cool, hard stone against her back. Colder metal shackles at wrist and ankle. Her bare nipples were hard. Gooseflesh rose on her skin. Lois could hear the people in the room breathing, and could almost feel the eyes on her. Involuntarily, her cheeks flushed at the thought of people staring at her naked and helpless...

"Oh good," a woman's voice said, in an unfamiliar accent. "You're awake."

The reporter opened her eyes. She found herself in a room with a vaulted ceiling, like a church or chapel, but all of concrete. wept her head around to see that it did indeed look like a church, albeit one with no windows, no crosses, only electric candles that gave a pale and flickering light. Women in dark robes, open at the front to show their nakedness, each holding a small candle, filled the pews, separated from Lois by a low wooden railing. Lois could see Maria, front and center, not ten feet from her.

A hand came down to rush the dark hair out of Lois Lane's eyes. The reporter turned.

This one was different. Her skin was red as fresh blood on parchment. She was dressed in some kind of ceremonial outfit that left little to the imagination; Lois could clearly see the finely-defined muscles move on her slim, bony form, the small breasts outlined by a kind of V of orange cloth; a chain of metal medallions swung low along her hips to conceal her loins. Dark horns rose from her forehead, and behind them a kind of golden tiara; dark hair hung down to her shoulders like a mane...but what caught Lois Lane's attention were her eyes.

They were pure white. No pupil, no iris. Like someone had cut a hole in darkness and beyond was an endless white space. They caught and held her gaze.

"Let me go," Lois said, almost by reflex.

"Of course," the demon said. Her lips curled into a Mona Lisa smile, as if she new a secret that Lois didn't. Red fingers snapped. Lois caught a crackle of black lightning....and the metal shackles at wrist and ankle opened.

Lois sat up, wary. She could feel the eyes on her naked body.

"Who are you?" The reporter demanded. "What is this?"

"I am Blaze," the demon said. "And this, Lois Lane, is your initiation."

Lois raised an eyebrow. "You want me to join you?"

"You will join us," Blaze said. She stood back, her hands on her hips...and there was something about that stance which struck Lois as impossibly lewd, the way the hips were thrust out, and the long orange sash that served Blaze as a skirt seemed to move. "The only question is if you'll do it the easy way, or the hard way."