End: Lois Lane's Life Hinges On A Game Of Chess

"Now," Blaze said as she surveyed the board. "How do the horsey-pieces move again?"

The beach and its pavilion had disappeared. In its place was now a great chessboard, Sixty-four squares, each a meter wide...and each piece a sex ****. Lois Lane, who stood in her golden chains with a little tiara on her head, was Circe's King.

Lois couldn't see Blaze and Circe, but she could hear them, their great voices boomed from above, and the reporter wondered if she had been shrunk down or...something else. The two great magical women called out their moves, and the women who were their pieces moved in accordance. Other than that, they could not move at all. Lois knew; she tried and struggled, but was frozen in place. Unable to do anything except stare straight ahead.

Chess with a bunch of scantily-clad sex slaves was not, Lois Lane found, particularly erotic or exciting. The women did not couple when people collided; the piece that was "taken" simply walked off the board. It would have been ridiculous, a skit from a Mel Brooks movie, except that both Blaze and Circe were dead serious in their game...

...and, as far as Lois could tell, they had very different styles of play.

Circe was straightforward, and went for the quick kill with a Queen's gambit. Blaze's style was more chaotic, but as the reporter soon saw, contained a rather deep strategy. Her attacks tended to come from odd directions, and Circe was soon on the defensive...shedding pieces...

...and Lois sensed an air of frustration as she and the tall, well-built woman who served as the nearest rook "castled" with her.

The game went on, minute after minute, and Circe took longer now before each move. Blaze. Lois wished she could fidget...or maybe charge forward, jump off the board, do something...but she was no more than an object now. A piece in a game. Her tattooed, pierced body on display, a plug in her ass. Her fate was out of her hands.

The end came sooner than she thought. The pawns around her vanished, and then...a regal, dark woman with sad eyes, clad only in black tattoos that ran around her whole neck and down her shoulders and breasts, stepped forward. They exchanged a glance...and then Blaze's voice boomed.

"Check and mate."

Lois Lane blinked at the sudden transition. She stood once more beneath the beach...but now she faced Circe, rather than by her side. The lavender-haired sorceress' face was a mask of fury.

"Good game," Blaze said as she reached in front of the reporter and cupped her pussy with one scarlet hand, which set Lois Lane's "skirt" of gold chains swinging. "I'll be sure to keep this warm for you."

Which is how Lois Lane's night ended...unable to resist as Blaze ordered her to follow. Leaving one mistress behind her as she followed another. Not sure how her decisions this night had led her to such a fate...or how she might escape.