End: Lois Calls On Blaze

The thief was across the street, headed into the park. Lois Lane turned to her left, stared at her own reflection. Thought of everything she'd done to get that file. There really wasn't any choice.

"Blaze..." she said, not slowing down as the traffic light changed.

"Blaze..." running out of mirrored glass, cars moving forward. She could barely see the thief in the darkness.

"Blaze!" Lois yelled as the sidewalk ended and she ran straight out into traffic, horns blaring and brakes screeching.

An arm took her elbow and then...they were across the street. Blaze stood beside her, in dark jeans and a dark coat, smiling. She lifted the reporter's left hand to her lips...smiled at the bandage...and then the smile turned into a frown as she saw the darkening bruises on the reporter's fingers.

"Who did this to you?" The dickgirl growled.

"Thief..." Lois waved into the darkness where the purse-snatcher had gone. "Took...bag...file..."

The reporter leaned over the wall of the park and retched suddenly nauseous. The cum in her pants reached her ankles, and Lois could feel the cold, gummy jism drip over her bare feet, cut up from running on concrete. With grim determination she finished emptying her guts and stood up, sucked in the cool night air. Blaze was gone.

Did I imagine here? Lois shook her head to clear it, then set her sight on the task at hand. ...maybe he hasn't got too far, if I canvas the park, there could be a witness...

Angelica Blaze stepped out of the darkness, heels clicking on the path that Lois had last seen the thief on. The bag was in her hand. Her dark eyes seemed almost to glow in the darkness. Lois stood there awkwardly, and accepted the bag back when Blaze handed it to her.

"He won't steal from anyone ever again," Blaze said...and that was it. She took the reporter's elbow, and arm-in-arm they walked back to Lois Lane's apartment.

There were questions Lois wanted to ask...but she wasn't sure she wanted the answers. No one else stopped them on the way back to Lois Lane's apartment, nor did the dickgirl seem to have any problem finding the place, as though she had been there a thousand times before. They rode up the elevator in silence.

"You can ask," Blaze said, when the elevator reached the reporter's floor and the doors opened. "I will tell you the truth."

"Maybe that's what I'm afraid of." Lois said...and Blaze only smiled, dark eyes flashing.

Angelica followed Lois into the apartment before her, without asking. Not that she needed to. Lois knew she couldn't tell the dickgirl 'no.'

"Strip," the dickgirl said as she closed the door behind her. "You're hurt. We need to wash those feet, dress those wounds."

"Protecting your investment?" Lois said, voice bitter.

Angelica shucked her heels and jacket, padding forward on bare feet. The t-shirt she was wearing had the sleeves torn out, and there was no bra beneath, the pink nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric.

"If I told you to get on your knees and suck my cock, would you?"

"Yes," Lois said, knowing it was true. That was the deal they had made.

"Then be glad, for right now, that I am not telling you to. I am a monster, Lois. I do not pretend otherwise. But there is no reason that I cannot be your monster...nor need everything I do be monstrous. Come, let me wash your feet."

They moved into the bathroom. Hot water poured into the tub, and Lois grimaced as it hit her cold feet...there were scratches there, she saw now, bits of road rash, spots of blood and skin. Angelica worked carefully, calmly, with all the skill of a nurse.

Her hands moved higher. Washing at the cried cum on Lois Lane's legs. Headed toward the reporter's crotch.

"I can tell you to do it," Blaze said. "Or you can just let me do it."

Lois Lane said nothing as the dickgirl took a clean rad and began to run it up the reporter's thighs. The rough cloth scraped at Lois Lane's pussy, but perhaps surprisingly, Angelica didn't try to probe inside. Just a simple scrub up, and then she took a cup and filled it from the tap, used the cold water to rinse the reporter off.

With inhuman ease, Blaze lifted the naked reporter out of the tub and carried her over to the bed, to fuss over her feet and hand with iodine and bandaids. All the time, Lois waited for the question—the command—to suck her cock, jerk her off, roll over and let the dickgirl pump another load of cum inside of the reporter's pussy. She was still waiting when Angelica pulled the covers up and over Lois Lane's breast, tucking her lover in for the night.

"Why...didn't you ask me?" Lois said, before Blaze could put out the light.

That damned Mona Lisa smile.

"I will. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps in the morning. Perhaps I'll surprise you at work. Don't worry Lois, you will be pregnant, and I will pump you full of my cum morning, noon, and night." The light went out.

"But there will come a time, perhaps, when I won't have to ask you. Call on me again when you need me."

Like that, she was gone.

Lois Lane spent a long time lying in bed, feeling the pain of her bruised fingers, of her new tattoo, of her sore pussy and aching feet. Wondered who or what she had really made that bargain with, and whether she hadn't signed away more than her womb when she had agreed to be Blaze's surrogate. What kind of life they might lead, if Lois Lane not only couldn't say no...but stopped wanting to.

'Til she fell at last into a fitful sleep, and darkly erotic dreams.