End: Lois Blaze

Cell by cell, Lois Lane was replaced. Like a virus, Blaze slipped into her tissues...her nerves...her very bones. All that was the Daily Planet's greatest reporter was suborned, corrupted, remade. The worst part wasn't that Lois had no defense against such an attack. It was that over the long, lonely hours of the process, her body jerked and spasmed within its demonic womb, climax after climax rippled through her thin frame as she floated in that warm hell, the tentacles squirmed and swelled and shifted inside of her ass and pussy and throat constantly. Never to drown, never to die...just to be held at the edge of consciousness as slowly everything she was was replaced, and she couldn't stop cumming and cumming and cumming...

Dawn broke over Metropolis, grey and wan. A pale light came through the balcony window and hit the dark red mound by Lois Lane's bed. The mass heaved from within. Once, twice, three times. The smooth outer layer distended as something pushed against it from within...stretched and stretched...and finally a fist pierced the thick membrane. Black goo like crude oil spilled out of the rupture as the slick, naked form pulled herself out.

She stepped out of the ruin of the deflated sack that had been the demon Blaze. The slick tentacles fell from between her thighs. The creature looked about her as one newborn...yet there was a strange, old knowledge in those eyes as well. Flickers of recognition. A Mona Lisa smile graced her lips as she stepped lightly into the bathroom.

Hands explored her naked body as she washed away the filth of her rebirth. Shampoo and bodywash...a hard scrub brush that delighted her skin its roughness...the pallid pink handmade soap that a part of her remembered buying at the farmer's market, made from the finest pigfat and blood...she stepped forth clean and wet. Wiped the steam away from the mirror.

Lois Lane's face stared back at her. Except not just Lois, not anymore. Her memories, her form, perfect in every detail...but mixed together with the memories of Blaze.

Black sparks crackled in her irises.

She returned to her bedroom, held up her hands. Power that Lois Lane never possessed arched from her fingertips, to reduce the remains of the demonic womb to dust...and then to sweep the dust into the trash can in the kitchen. She began to open the reporter's drawers, hunt through her clothes...a new day had dawned, and as Lois Lane's night out had ended, so had Lois Lane's old life. Now, it was Lois Blaze that sought out her most revealing clothes, who planned how she would best use her old self's life and reputation to achieve her goals...for with the power of Blaze and the body of Lois Lane, the demon in human form was sure that at last she would achieve her final and fitting **** on the Man of Steel.

The naked woman held up a blue t-shirt marked with the familiar S-shield...and laughed as she clasped it to her bosom. Laughed as she fell back on the bed, the bunched shirt in her hands as she rubbed it between her legs. Scrubbed at her slit with the cheap t-shirt, and wondered how, soon, she would do much, much worse with Superman himself.

She would break his heart.

Yet that is another story...