End: Answer Lois Lane's Questions

Lois Lane asked the questions. Circe answered. The twin tips of the energy construct dildos teased the sorceress' holes as Circe spelled out a tale of the demon Blaze, her brothel, the women she had enchanted to work as whores for the villains of the world, so that the scarlet succubus could accrue influence among the metahuman underworld and souls for her realm in hell.

As she spoke, the reporter's hands hovered over the wounded ass. Green sparks burst as Circe instinctively healed her wounds. It made the reporter's imagination flare. She wondered what Circe's limits were. How far she could hurt the sorceress without endangering her immortal life.

So after she had all the information she needed for her mission, Lois asked Circe about that too.

Now, the sadistic Star Sapphire pushed, and the tips of her spike dildos gouged furrows in Circe's pussy and ass. The masochistic mystic groaned and tensed against her bonds as blood burst from her holes, then swiftly dropped down to a trickle as the healing magic took hold. Lois grinned, her awakened cruelty stirred by the fact that even when healed, the violet strap-on kept Circe's holes gaping open.

"You've done good, slut," Lois whispered. "Mistress is pleased. Mistress is going to fuck you slow and hard, now. Stretch your holes. I want to ruin your beautiful body."

"Yes!" Circe gasped, lost in her sub-space as the reporter pushed the dildos deeper. "Ruin me! Ruin me!"

As Lois Lane's hips jerked, her ring flared. Fine violet strands, thin as fishing wire, burst out into a web that gripped the sorceress' whole body. Every slight twitch and wiggle against that razor-thin wire caused it to bite into the sorceress' flesh...to bite, and heal, and then tear the wound open again.

They were lost, the two women, in an orgy of blood and sex. The sun burned timelessly overhead, and the sand beneath them became red and muddy, as Circe's blood squished out between the tanned and sweaty reporter's toes. In the second hour before dawn, the inhuman strap-ons were fully embedded in Circe's holes, the bases four inches in diameter, the tips of the curved, sharpened spikes stabbed so deep that the tip threatened to tear through Circe's cervix...and when, at last, Lois let the bonds that held Circe up disperse, the Greek goddess fell face first, ass up, and Lois behind the sight of two holes that had been torn and healed so many times that they stretched out of recognition.

Which is why, perhaps, as the power of her ring sputtered and died, Lois fell to her knees and buried her face in that ghastly mess. As Circe quivered, Lois slaked her thirst on the blood that oozed from the rents carved in the gaping ass...until finally, after what seemed an eternity, this too slowly closed, and Lois found the tight sphincter of Circe's asshole cinch around her tongue.

"So," Lois Lane said, exhausted from her ordeal. "Here is how things are going to be, ****..."

The Justice League was informed. They came with fire and sword, super science and magic, to cleanse the place and rescue the women who were **** to prostitute themselves by the demon's spell. Lois Lane stood outside, jittery as she sipped the coffee which was all that kept her going, and if anyone saw the light of new madness in her eye, they might have attributed to the things she had seen down below.

The sun was up as the exhausted reporter finally arrived back at her own apartment. There was a noise from the closet, and Lois Lane hauled out the old Army duffel bag and untied the hood. A lavender-haired face looked out at her, and whimpered around its gag. Lois grinned tiredly as she heard the buzz of the dildos embedded in Circe's pussy and ass.

"Alright, slut. You've had enough fun. Time for a bath...and sleep...I'll **** you again in the morning."

Circe moaned happily...and through the shared madness of that night out, a bond had been forged between the two women. How long it would last, before the realities of life tore such a fragile relationship asunder, neither knew. Yet while it lasted, both sadist and masochist would indulge themselves to the fullest.