End: A Magical Ritual, Already In Progress

The room was dark. A tall woman stood in the center of the room, and a flame without any apparent source burned above her head. It hung between her dark horns like a great candle flame, but there was no wick. The dark robe seemed to meld with the darkness, but it was open at the front, to reveal her naked body. In that strange light, her body looked red as blood...and the eyes burned pure white, without pupil or iris, as if illuminated from within.

One hand held a great red gem, which seemed to glow in the light and sent crimson shadows over the faces of the half-dozen women, naked except for blindfolds, that clustered around her. The other held a leather-bound book, from which she read, her English strangely accented:

"The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them, They walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen. Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth’s fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread. By Their smell can men sometimes know Them near, but of Their semblance can no man know, saving only in the features of those They have begotten on mankind; and of those are there many sorts, differing in likeness from man’s truest eidolon to that shape without sight or substance which is Them. They walk unseen and foul in lonely places where the Words have been spoken and the Rites howled through at their Seasons. The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city, yet may not forest or city behold the hand that smites. Kadath in the cold waste hath known Them, and what man knows Kadath? The ice desert of the South and the sunken isles of Ocean hold stones whereon Their seal is engraven, but who hath seen the deep frozen city or the sealed tower long garlanded with seaweed and barnacles? Great Cthulhu is Their cousin, yet can he spy Them only dimly. Iä! Shub-Niggurath!"

"Iä! Shub-Niggurath!" The naked acolytes chorused.

In the doorway, Lois and Selina spied on the scene. The reporter chewed the inside of her cheek. She recognized some of the women as those who had gone missing—Lois had scrolled through all their social media to find any hint of where they had gone, memorized their faces and names. Selina, on the other hand, was fixated on the gem in the leader's hand.

"Those horns look real," Lois whispered.

"You're right," Selina whispered back. "And that isn't the collector who took out the insurance policy. I wonder what happened to him."

Then, with a subtle twist of the horned woman's wrist, a bright red light blinded Lois and Selina.

"Bring out guests here," the woman said, "And welcome them."

"Yes, Mistress Blaze," the naked acolytes said in unison...and Lois and Selina stood frozen in that brilliant crimson glare, unable to move as the naked women grabbed them. The reporter's muscles were locked tight, but she couldn't even twitch...not even blink, as tears flowed down her cheeks. Selina must have been the same way, for Lois could not hear the other woman fight.

"Lois Lane. I wondered where you had gone off to," Blaze said, and her wide mouth twisted into a smug smile. "And Selina Kyle. A surprise."

Without prompt, the naked women began to strip the two women of their clothes. The reporter was unable to fight them, unable to look away...but when, for a moment, her shirt blocked the rays of the gem from view, she launched herself forward.

Hands held her back. The blindfolded women had been waiting for that very moment, and the reporter slammed onto the ground, the weight of three women on top of her as they peeled off what was left of her clothing. A moment later, Selina Kyle slammed tits-first into the hard floor, likewise overpowered.

Blaze dropped into a squat. Lois turned her head to avoid the rays of the gem...and the sight of the horned woman's hairless pussy, on lewd display, the slightly fishy smell oddly unnatural.

"It would be interesting to see if I could turn the two of you to my cause...welcome you as acolytes even as I have these souls," Blaze mused. "But your wills are strong, and your...paramours...are likely to show up if you go missing, or fall under strange influence. So I think, perhaps, I will simply amuse myself, and then vanish into the night."

Lois and Selina fought, as much as they could. But the red light of the gem burned bright, and eager hands pried their eyelids open. So in the end, there was nothing that Lois or Selina could do as the blindfolded acolytes arranged the two naked women according to Blaze's direction.

Heads tilted. Mouths locked. Lois felt Selina's moan as one end of the dildo was slipped inside her pussy...and Lois moaned herself when it was her turn. Pressed tight against each other, breast to breast, in obscene embrace.

Then the rolls of plastic wrap and duct tape came out. The film clung to their sweaty bodies as it passed around and around them. Lois stared into Selina's eye, the red light of the gem reflected in its depths, and saw rage there...and something else. An unexpected vulnerability. Lois swallowed the woman's spit and felt the flutter of Selina's heart as it beat against her own breast. As Blaze's light faded, their tongues met.

When, near dawn, Superman and Batman entered the chamber, they found the women wrapped together in plastic. The strange, mummy-like figure writhed as they struggled against their bonds, and the two men shared a glance...but it was only the work of a moment with a sharp batarang and a burst of heat vision to separate the two sweaty, exhausted women. The double dildo slid out of their pussies and fell to the floor, where it lay like a dead worm.

"What happened?" Batman asked Selina, as he put his cape around Selina. Her clothes were nowhere to be seen.

"Here," Superman said as he gallantly wrapped his own crimson cape around the naked reporter.

Lois and Selina shared a glance.

"Well...I was tracking these missing women," Lois said, as the two men carried the women out. "I met Selina down in the sewer..."

It wasn't the story. Not the whole story. Not the hours that Lois Lane and Selina Kyle had spent together. Unable to escape, but able to grind, to taste, to kiss, to feel as the heat built and built between them. To hear the soft moans that seemed to rattle through their skulls. To feel the ache of the dildo as it squirmed within them.

It was a night that Lois Lane would never forget...nor would Selina Kyle. A night that would see the Catwoman knock on the door of the reporter's apartment some dark night...and welcomed into the reporter's arms.

Yet that is another story.