End: Lois Lane Cannot Fight Blaze's Influence

In her mind, Lois Lane tried to fight—yet it was a battle she was ill-equipped for. She raged as her body moved of its own accord, arranging Zatanna on the empty altar. Watched helplessly as her own hands stripped the witch of her clothes, those magnificent breasts popping free as the shirt was loosened, unable even to scream as she tore off stockings and panties. All of the reporter's psychic **** spent uselessly, as though flailing against a fog.

Once Zatanna lay naked and exposed, the reporter felt herself begin to disrobe. The reporter tried in vain to stop her own hands...or, while the hands were occupied, to move her feet, cry out for help, to do anything—but the demon's control seemed total. Toward the end, the reporter tried to focus—the hands fumbled at catches, her knees trembled—but it was too little, too late.

Naked, the reporter felt something move into her more fully, almost crowding her out of her own skull. The tiny acts of defiance were entirely stilled, and Lois could only rage impotently as she felt two fingers slip between her own labia. Could not even wince as the fingers stirred her cunt, coating themselves with her juices.

Could only watch as those slick fingers painted the symbol ⚲ on Zatanna's forehead—and **** themselves between the **** magician's lips.

At that, Zatanna's eyes opened. They were perfectly white, without pupil or iris, and seemed to glow from within. The symbol on the witch's forehead burned...and as Lois Lane's possessed body spun around, she saw that the other four women were the same, eyes open and glowing, symbol burning bright on their forehead.

The mark of Blaze.

Something shifted as the demon guided Lois Lane's body into the center of the pentagram. The light shone from the eyes of the five women like lasers, and before they hit the ceiling the lines bent and twisted into incandescent shapes. In the very center of the sigil, Lois Lane drew herself up straight, hands raised above her shoulders, head thrown back to stare at the glowing sigil, incredibly bright and complex...and Lois fought now, not for freedom or to interrupt the demon's plans, but simply for her own independent existence.

She could feel the demon crowd her. Already her access to the sense of her body were shrinking...and through the dim and shifting vision she saw a bloody pallor come to her limbs, felt the pop of vertebrae as her body stretched taller, the shock of pain as horns burst from her forehead, and the growing weight as they grew. Lois Lane, whatever was left of her spirit or ego, now felt herself a stranger in a stranger land, a last spark of light and decency in an ocean of dark flames, and as the ritual neared its climax, the terrible pressure threatened to swallow the reporter whole.

In the darkness of Blaze's soul, the bright astral self of Lois Lane collapsed in on itself...condensed...all trace of thought and identity slowly crushed out of it, until it was no more than a burning diamond point of soul-flame, and that Blaze could not touch...but as the women on the altars withered, their bodies wrinkling and hair greying as Blaze drained their life forces one by one, saving Zatanna for last, the demon turned her eyes inward and focused her power on that last speck of Lois Lane in existence...and into that she poured all of her lust, her carnal thoughts, the seething tide of her libido...and the little piece of Blaze's essence within Lois Lane's soul blossomed.

In the darkness that was Blaze's spirit, the pearl shown white....and then it quivered. a pinkish taint slid over its surface. Then another, and another. With aching slowness, it seemed to shrink, to diminish, the bright purity shifted to a bloody red...and yet it stuck there, unable to be absorbed...

...and at last, Blaze opened her eyes.

She rested one crimson hand on the slightly swollen scarlet abdomen. A flicker of a smile crossed her wide lips.

"Curious," she whispered aloud, hearing her own voice with her own ears, for the first time incarnate on the mortal plane. "It will be interesting to see what you become...daughter."

Blaze laughed...and on the altars around her were four piles of dust, and Zatanna, the once-voluptuous magician now withered and aged as a woman in middle age, her magnificent breasts sagging and flattened out, the pink nipples faded, streaks of grey in her hair...and across the world, the ripples of Blaze's ascension echoed throughout the aether.

She had crossed over into the mortal world, in her full power, and could no longer be banished or bound, for she had taken mortal flesh...and with that power and Zatanna as a battery of magical might, who knows what evil the demon might wreak? Or how she might treat the being that even now gestated spontaneously inside of her dark womb?

For Lois Lane as she was, was no more—and little did she know at the beginning that this would be her final night out.