End: Hard, Fast, And Loving Every Minute of Her Pussy Being Destroyed

Lois Lane had heard all her life of people just snapping. Like there's a sudden, sharp break between sanity and insanity. Like a switch flipped deep in their brain. As she **** herself up and down, sharp spikes of pleasure piercing her brain every time she bottomed out and crushed the entrance to her womb against the flared head of the sorceress' animalistic prick, Lois realized that wasn't true.

This whole experience, from the very moment she had stepped into this room, or maybe even earlier, when she had entered this club—her decisions had led her to this point. She could have, perhaps should have, left at any time before this. Turned around, walked away, fought back. Instead she had adapted to the situation, gone with the flow, consciously chosen to keep going...and where she was now, panting and eyes wide, hands on her knees as she **** her pussy down on that throbbing pike that she had impaled herself on...Lois knew that this wasn't some sudden break from before.

She had slipped into this utter depravity, giving up her cunt and her will to this horse-cocked sorceress, to whom Lois Lane was no more than a plaything, a pussy ****, a momentary distraction in a life of evil...and going that final distance, making that final decision, giving up the last shred of hope and free will, was as easy as standing up and letting her well-greased cunt slide back down that equine pole.

Lois Lane didn't fall into sin. She jumped.

The former reporter's tongue lolled and her head hung panting, eyes rolling into her head as Circe's nails scratched at her thighs. The extra little pain was all the reporter needed to send her over the edge. With a brain-melting scream, her cunt clamped tight, cervix spasming as it slurped at the drooling puddle of precum leaking from the flared tip of the cock that was crushed against the back of Lois Lane's vaginal canal. Synapses fired and died in the reporter's brain, and structural changes took place that were normally only seen in the brains of certified nymphomaniacs and crack addicts.

Circe smiled. The reporter hung limp and twitching, her hips spasmodically humping on autopilot, but the reporter was lost in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss.

It was time to end this.

With a practiced effort, Blaze's hand made a clawlike gesture. At the base of her cock, a microscopic portal opened...and what burst out, the full length of her shaft, was not horse sperm—but something far more virile. Something that hit the reporter's pussy like the burst of a machine gun, threatening to tear a hole straight through Lois Lane and out the top of her head, if Circe's magic hadn't already warded the reporter's cunny against just such an eventuality.

Lois Lane barely felt it as she was inseminated. Her eyelids fluttered, and a hand came up to press against her stomach.

"It's so warm..."

"Yes," Circe said. "My gift to you, ****. The first of many duties you will carry out for me."

The cock began to soften. It tottered, collapsing slowly, and Lois sank down, her naked body pressing against Circe's own. Their lips met then...Lois tenderly, Circe's more aggressively, her teeth pulling at Lois Lane's lower lip until the reporter cried and shuddered once more.

Circe let her pass out then, the softening horsecock plugging the reporter's cunny. Almost as an afterthought, the sorceress reached up and turned off the sun, so that they lay in each other's arms on a moonlit beach.

"You came for a night out," Circe whispered, groping the ass of her ****. "Yet you found so much more than what you were looking for. The purpose of your life has changed, Lois Lane. You are now my **** in all things...and oh, what plans I have for you! What pleasures and pains you will experience! What woe you will inflict on my enemies when they see what a whore I have made of you!"

Lois smiled. Perhaps she heard, perhaps she was already asleep. Her pussy squeezed the cock, milking it instinctively. For truly, her old life, like the night, was at an end.