End: Lois Lane Escapes...With A Little Help

They're almost upon you, the voice said in Lois Lane's head.

The reporter coughed hard. Globs of grey jizz splattered out from behind her teeth. Her body refused to move, caught in the convulsions.

I can help you. Give me control.

Behind her, the four women-things had shed their last vestiges of human guise. They had merged into a writhing greyish mass of phallic tentacles, the largest as thick as the reporter's thigh. Lois tried to crawl away, unable to stop her hacking. The urethras of the swollen phallic heads opened to show rows of razor-sharp teeth.

"O-okay," Lois choked out.

Immediately, the reporter's arms flew up, totally out of her control. Her fingers went through a complex series of gestures, and ended with thumbs and forefingers together to form a triangle. Green flame erupted from that space. It was impossible...but as the flame licked the grey flesh of the oncoming monsters, the flesh blackened and crackled. Lois felt her arms shake, her whole body caught up in a **** that moved through her, like the nozzle of a firehose.

It did not stop until all that was left of the four women was greasy, blackened bones. Her arms fell down by her side and she gulped in deep breaths.

Now you are safe, the voice said. Now, my price...

The reporter's hands moved of their own accord. Slipped under her pants. Lois Lane gasped as they groped at her pussy. Rubbed and explored.

"W-wait! N-not here...!" Lois protested.

Don't worry. No one will see us. I just need a little orgasm...to rebuild our strength.

The reporter moaned as two of her own fingers slid into her slit. She wasn't that wet, not yet, and her face cinched up in discomfort at the sudden intrusion.

"Who are you?" Lois whispered hoarsely.

Someone here to keep you safe...to help you, the voice's accent was strange, and strangely familiar. It reminded Lois of when she was dead...or near dead.

"Like...a guardian angel?" Lois said.

If you'd like. Now, relax. You should enjoy this.

Her fingers found her clit. The reporter shivered as she saw the blackened bones in the hallway. If anyone came down and saw her there...touching herself....

Despite herself, Lois couldn't help but feel a little turned on. It was so wrong, but it felt so good. Her fingers knew what they were doing. It wasn't as if she were touching herself, but if someone else were touching her...and yet she could feel it. Could feel, too, the edge of her climax as it inched closer and closer. The tension in her forearms as the fingers worked faster. Two of them plunged in and out of her pussy while the others rubbed her clit. The reporter's thichs and buttocks trembled as she writhed on the floor. Eyes closed. Lost in the moment.

She gasped...and felt a little piece of herself sucked away.

Good girl, the voice said, a little louder. Now, let's get you out of here...

Lois Lane's arms were back under her control. Her finger-tips were wet with her own juices as she scrambled back up onto her feet, away from the scene of carnage. In the back of her mind, Lois could almost imagine that she could feel her guardian angel...her passenger...the voice from the other side...and the reporter shivered as she imagined what was going to happen from here on.

Yet that is another story.