End: Lois Wants Her Pussy Licked

She licked her lips. The taste of Blaze still on her lips. The demonic reporter stepped through shadow, behind the curtain of the world, and when her heels clicked on the floor again, it was in Blaze's control center...an oversized throne of bone, before an array of monitors. Each screen showed part of the club. From this nerve center, Blaze had first seen Lois Lane enter. Here, she received her servants and gave them their orders.

Lois B. Laze settled her ass into the chair. Spread her legs. The tight pants shifted into a wide, flowing skirt, taut between her knees. Violet eyes found the four women who had gone missing—for lost souls Blaze had wooed and won for Hell, now enslaved in mindless drudgery. With a thought, Lois sent out a command. On the screen, all four women straightened at once...and moved to answer their mistress' dark call.

Long, sensual fingers drew up her skirt to reveal the wet, puffy cunny. On the monitors, she traced the progress of the four women on their way here. Little did they know, this would be their final act in her service—the reporter had no need for such slaves, but their return would serve her ends, give her the material she needed for her article.

That Mona Lisa smile remained on her lips as she planned. With the demon's powers, "Lois Lane" would easily retain her reputation as the Daily Planet's greatest reporter—and with Lois' access to information and placement as a friend of various heroes, the demonic reporter could insinuate herself deeper into the structures of power. Establish herself securely, and then leverage that position to achieve greater goals...manipulate heroes, villains, mortals, and immortals alike.

"But, first things first," Lois mused aloud as the first of the women entered the room. They dropped to their knees and crawled toward her throne. The demonic reporter's eyes dropped from the screen to that blank, dull face. "I give head to get head, after all."

The idiot look on the face remained as the young woman crawled between Lois' legs. Asian. Black hair, with a streak of blue. Dull brown eyes, like a cow's. Her name was Tonya Wong...and just now, in hell, her soul was sucking cock. A legion of demons each had their turn, an endless line of them. An ironic punishment, for Tonya had bargained for the sexual experiences she had missed, focused as she had been on her study. The young woman had dreamed of being used. A sexual object.

Down in Hell, she could experience that. The endless, terrible ****. As the tongue slurped at the reporter's labia, Lois reached back, along the silver cord that connected that damned soul with its physical body. Tugged it back, up through the spiritual gulfs, to place it once more in its seat. Saw life and awareness awaken in those eyes. Tears of joy, confusion, gratitude...

"Lick," Lois B. Laze ordered. "Lick me long and hard. All the harsh memories will fade. This will just be like a bad dream..."

An eager puppy could not have attacked a jar of peanut butter more fervently than Tonya Wong slobbered on Lois Lane's slit. The demonic reporter slid lower in her throne of bone, and sighed gently at the tongue bath.

Only the first step...only the first eager mouth that clamped onto Lois Lane's cunny and sucked hard, that swallowed her juices eagerly, that lavished her clit with such **** gratitude.

There would be more. So more. Lois looked into the future and thought of the time when Superman's cock would be at her beck and call, his cum on tap for her thirst. When Wonder Woman would crawl between her legs and lavish kisses on her pussy. The world would love her...and come to her of their own free will.

It was the last night out of Lois Lane...and the first night of Lois B. Laze, whose devilry would know no bounds. Yet that is another story.