End: Lois Lane Follows Poison Ivy's Lead

Curiosity, they say, killed the cat.

Lois Lane wasn't sure who "they" were, but she soon learned that there were fates far worse than **** that the fateful feline might have suffered.

Poison Ivy told Lois everything—about Blaze, the scarlet succubus behind it all; the women they had gotten as "volunteers" for Ivy's little project, who were the missing women that Lois had been looking for on her night out. Lois hung on every word, and steeled herself for what she was about to see as Ivy led her into her inner lab...

...and was totally unprepared for the fog of marijuana smoke and flashing multicolored lights.

The reporter coughed as Ivy guided the reporter inside and shut and locked the door behind her. It was like walking into one of the more psychedelic parts of a giallo film. Lois Lane's eyes watered as she looked around... It was a metal shed, spotlessly clean, and deliciously cool. The lights overhead were less intense than the grow lights out in the marijuana hothouse, and a projector on the ceiling broadcast various strange colors and patterns over everything. Against the far wall was a kind of metal rack, in which four women were lashed, hands above their heads, tubes stuck in their nose. They seemed to each of them to be humping a pot...but as Ivy led Lois nearer, the reporter saw that wasn't quite the case.

Something green grew out of the dark soil in the pots, right up into the hairy, unshaven pussies. Smoke dribbled out of the captive women's nostrils, and their eyes were bloodshot and irises dilated. Their abdomens were protuberant, and there were dark lines and red stretch marks.

"Blaze said that these seeds come from hell," Ivy said as she led the unresisting reporter to the end of the row, where there was an empty space. "I'm not sure about that, but they are absolutely fascinating—motile, and able to form a symbiotic bond with women, drawing nutrients from her womb to fuel their explosive growth. In return, the plant releases a number of narcotics and hallucinogens into the host's system...these women are basically high all the time! In the wild, they would no doubt die of starvation and dehydration, but in controlled circumstances I've been able to keep them all alive...and the fruits they produce have very strange qualities. Blaze claims they have magical uses."

Lois Lane nodded. She felt woozy, but in a pleasant way. The reporter smiled easily and giggled. Somehow it was so funny to see these women like this, potted like plants. The reporter scratched at her sore pussy, which had begun to itch...

"What does it feel like?" Lois Lane said, a last curious question that sealed her fate.

Ivy was stronger than she looked. It helped that Lois could put up no defense. The more she breathed of the ****-tainted air, the less coordinated her body became. There was no sense of danger at all as she soon found herself naked and tied into a squat on the rack. Her arms were bound behind her, knees drawn up, her pussy spread and exposed. The nosepiece was fitted into her nostrils, and a sweet, sickly smell was drawn into the reporter's lungs...and suddenly the lights were brighter, the colors more vivid, the patterns of light and shade more fascinating.

There was nothing to hold the reporter's head in place. She watched Ivy pull forth a pot and situate it just below Lois Lane's cunny. A greenish-red bulb was in the very middle of the black soil. The plant wiggled and, as the reporter watched, seemed to bloom or open...and a bright red growth emerged.

Someone else stepped into the room. The door was still locked. She simply emerged from the shadows, tall and slim, skin the color of fresh blood on parchment, dark hair spilling down from behind her dark horns, eyes bright and white without pupil or iris...

"Perfect," Blaze said as she saw the smooth red stem grow upwards and push past the reporter's pussy lips. "I can't wait to see how big this one gets. I have a feeling her fruit will be...potent."

Lois Lane smiled, not sure if she understood the joke. Except it didn't matter anymore. She could feel the smooth stem slide deeper and deeper into her pussy. The potted reporter gasped in pain as it pierced into her still-dilated cervix...and then a warmth, a rush ran through the reporter's entire body. It was as though she had been plugged into an electric socket, every nerve on fire, and Lois gasped and quivered.

A red hand caressed the reporter's face.

"Enjoy it while you can, Lois Lane," Blaze said. "Because I am going to wring you dry."

The curious cat only died. Lois Lane shivered as the two villains left, trapped in ecstasy and torment as some alien seed grew in her womb. For all her cleverness, she had fallen into the same trap as the women whom she had come to find...and her trial would be neither pleasant nor over quickly.