End: Just A Coke

You could have heard a pin drop. Every eye in the bar was on Bibbo and Blaze. There was a smile on his face that the demon would gladly have wiped off with one swipe of her claw.

"You sure? No milk? No water?" His left eye fluttered, and Blaze couldn't tell if it was a tic or a wink. "Maybe I throw a scoop of ice cream in there, make it a float?"

Blaze leaned forward. She didn't smile. Her eyes sank into her sockets...and then she opened her real eyes. Just for Bibbo to see.

"I need to stay sober tonight. Designated driver."

Bibbo leaned back. He still had that smile on his face, but there was a glint of respect in his demeanor now. The tension of the moment ended, and the drinkers went back to drinking. Bibbo brought up a glass-bottled Coca-Cola and popped the cap.

The demon eyed him warily. The bartender hadn't even blinked when Blaze had stared into his soul. He was pure of heart...or, if not pure, then pure enough. Not a threat, exactly, but in another age she could see him on a battlefield, gleefully swinging his cruciform sword and lopping off the heads of lesser demons.

"So, you and Miss Lane?" he said.

Blaze shrugged. "Maybe. We kind of hit it off tonight. I wouldn't mind if it turned into something."

Bibbo grunted. He grabbed a rag and wiped at the bar.

"You know, Mistah Supahman, my pal, he's sort of sweet on her."

The demon took a sip. Syrupy sweet cola buzzed around her tongue.

"I'm aware," Blaze said.

"Me, I always figgered he oughta be with someone like dat Wondah Woman," Bibbo opined. "Classy, classy dame. Not that Miss Lane ain't classy, but..."

Their eyes met.

"...Miss Lane, she got a bit of a wild side, you know? Likes to get into danger. Likes it better when someone helps her out."

The demon took another sip. She had a feeling Bibbo was trying to tell her something, but what exactly wasn't getting through to her.

Bibbo glanced at the wall clock. Lois Lane hadn't been gone long.

"The girls...they're good girls...but I gotta keep an eye on 'em, you know? See, ever since whatever happened to 'em, they get...handsy. With each other. With the clientele, if a skirt looks like anythin'...an' I had to make sure they didn't follow a couple o' ladies into the bathroom once or twice..."

Blaze's ears twitched. A high-pitched squeel. Bibbo met her eyes again, gave the slightest twitch of his head...and the demon slammed some money down on the bar and crossed the bar in long-legged strides, to rip open the locked door by main strength.

The four women were half-naked. They had Lois Lane's shirt pulled up tied around the reporter's wrists to expose her breasts, a ball gag had been **** into Lois' mouth, and one of them had a foot-long dildo in her hand.

Black sparks snapped in the air around Blaze's eyes.

"Mine," the demon spat the word.

Two and a half hours later, Lois Lane and Angelica Blaze left the bar, with four very thoroughly interviewed and scared women recuperating from their interrogation. Blaze's hand slid into the waistband of the reporter's pants as they left the bar...and she saw Bibbo raise a half-finished bottle of Coca-Cola and drink to her health as the two stepped out into the night.

Lois Lane didn't know what was going to happen to her. She felt so different, so alive. Angie's hand on her ass felt so right, like it was made to be there...and the reporter guided her back toward her apartment. There were so many things she wanted to ask Angie, about being a demon, about the Lesbian Pit, about her own transformation...but more importantly, right now, as the sun rose over Metropolis and Lois Lane's night out ended, she wanted one thing.

In the elevator on the way up to her apartment, Lois turned to face Blaze. Stretched up on her tip-toes and pressed her lips against Blaze's own...and grabbed the demon's ass and crushed it to her, so that the fat cock was squeezed between them.

"Thanks for rescuing me," Lois said. "That makes you a hero, you know? And heroes get a reward..."

Blaze smiled as Lois led her into her apartment. The demon let the glamour drop, as they stripped out of their clothes. She admired the reporter's bubble-gum pink skin, the little nubby horns. Her own crimson cock was so hard it hurt. It was as if Lois Lane was made for her...and perhaps, in a way, she was.

In all the clubs in all the world, Lois Lane had to walk into hers...and now Blaze knew her life would never be the same.