End: Circe Curses And Follows

Circe hesitated. She told herself that she owed Lois Lane nothing, that now that the woman was gone she could make good her own escape—to say to hell with this night and all of its indignities and...

A scream echoed down the corridor. Different from before.

Lois Lane's scream.

Balling her hands into fists, the sorceress turned toward where it had come from. Under her breathe she cursed meddling reporters, the gods in their halls, the spirits of light and darkness, and most of all herself.

As she moved down the corridor, bare feet on concrete, she gathered to herself her panoply of powers. Shadows clothed her, and her mind's eye expanded to reveal the adjacent astral planes, tracing the lines of power of broken spells, veins of energy from the living earth, the pale traces of old ghosts...and the lines all seemed to converge in the direction the reporter had headed.

Circe's mouth was a grim line as she wove her warding spells closer about her. She knew the taste of these energies, the burning darkness she sensed up ahead. Before, it had caught her by surprise; now she was alert, and whispered silent prayers, calling in favors from those who had cause to answer her. In the astral plane, dark shapes began to cloak her aura, translucent and sharp, occult weapons and armor on hand and ready to be unleashed.

Then Lois screamed again. Yet Circe did not hurry; she was no heroine to go barging into her enemy's sanctum unprepared. The sorceress extended her senses, pushing her sight around corners and through the darkness.

So it was she saw the room where the demon Blaze rested, before she stepped into it. The scarlet succubus had discarded her clothes and sat naked, her blood-red skin pale and wan in the light of security monitors hooked to the hidden cameras in the club above. Thin and lanky she was, tall and bony, with small breasts and a great mass of dark hair, two curling horns that arose above eyes that were pure burning white, without pupil or iris...and on her lips, a strange Mona Lisa smile. Her throne was a living thing, made from women who were blinded, gagged, and bound in place...and held aloft, arms and legs splayed in mid-air, was Lois Lane.

The horned demon made a mystic gesture, and Lois screamed. Although she appeared to hang on invisible tethers, Circe could see her limbs being stretched, the muscles straining as arms and legs were nearly torn from their sockets. With her supernatural senses, the sorceress could "see" the invisible spirits that held the reporter.

"I don't know how you escaped, Lois...and I suppose it matters little. You will still serve my purpose. When the time comes to deal with Superman, he will find your limbless torso mounted on a urinal in the club above. A fitting end for all of my enemies..."

There was a strange accent to Blaze's English, and Circe could see that there was more to her little speech than the standard villainous monologue—which Circe herself was partial to, from time to time. Waves of psychic **** were emanating from the succubus toward Lois Lane, crashing against the reporter's natural mental barriers. In time, those would break...and then the willful reporter would be a broken plaything to Blaze's whims. Circe admired the combination of physical and mental ****, the better to break down her victim swiftly and completely...but whatever Blaze's real plans were, Circe had not forgotten that the demon had captured her as well.

The demon was safe and secure in her lair...a direct confrontation was impossible. Yet as Circe thought back to her own recent imprisonment, she realized there was an alternative...

Silent and unseen, Circe stepped into the throne room. Around her, the spirits she had called on were unweaving the demon's spells, disrupting lines of power...slowly enough that Blaze herself would not be aware of it, at least not immediately, not with her attention so focused on Lois Lane. Ignoring for a moment the moans of pain that burst from Lois Lane's lips, the sorceress crossed to each wall and drew a sign with her fingertip. It was dangerous, passing behind the reporter to do this, but the naked succubus was lost in her game. The sorceress even saw the red fingers lazily rub at her own scarlet labia as invisible tentacles **** the reporter's pussy and ass to open. Lois Lane's screams choked off as an unseen mass **** itself into her mouth and down her throat. Tears dripped from the reporter's eyes and Lois quivered, powerless and effectively gagged and violated.

Then Circe's preparations were complete. She moved behind Blaze and her living throne, just as the spirits the sorceress had conjured unwove Blaze's spells to the degree that they collapsed. Immediately, Blaze ceased masturbating and sat up.

"What? Who dares..."

Circe's hand grabbed the demon's black hair and yanked it back. Pure white eyes burned away the shadows that hid Circe.

"I cast myself a prison: forged from blood and bone, sealed by my will..."

The sigils on the walls glowed. Blaze sat stricken, unable to move, as the snare of Circe's enchantment held her.

"Now, spirit, I draw thee to me!" Circe hissed, her whisper louder than a shout in that room. Lois Lane dropped as the spirits that held her departed, all that was Blaze retreating back into her scarlet shell.

"In hate's name, I bind thee to me!" Circe cried...and Lois Lane, groggily pulling herself up from the floor, would swear to the end of her days that she saw a door swing wide in Circe's chest, right between her breasts. That the form of Blaze seemed to melt into a smokeless fire that streamed into that cage of bone...and that, at the last, that door swung shut.

Until Circe simply stood there, her breasts on display, a terrible smile on her face.

"Now, little demon, we shall see how you like being my prisoner," Circe said with a mirthless smile.

The sorceress walked over to Lois Lane as the throne collapsed, the women struggling now against their bonds.

"We are even now, Lois Lane," the sorceress said...and then, feeling a bit of burning pain in her chest as Blaze railed against her new prison. "I won't be there next time to save you. Try not to get yourself killed."

Which is how the reporter's night ended. She had her story...the missing women found, their tales corroborated. A supervillain operating in the depths of Metropolis, depraved and insane, **** women for some strange plan. The reporter decided against mentioning Circe...only that the villain had been confronted by a rival and Lois had been there in the nick of time to get the victims to safety.

Lois Lane could not help but wonder what became of Circe and her captive after that...but that is another story.