End: Masturbate While Thinking Of Him

Lois Lane stared at the ceiling, heart racing, breasts heaving. Normally, sex helped clear her mind, and her body calmed down. This time, though...his heat seemed to linger where he had touched his body. His smell, like the yolks of hardboiled eggs and masculine musk, filled her nostrils. Her hands reached down her sweat-slick body...fingers combed through the carefully trimmed patch of pubic hair above her clit, the short and curlies hot and wet...

As her fingers ran over her clit, Lois Lane's hips bucked and her toes curled. She quivered, sore cunt muscles clenching, and something hot ran out of her super-sensitive cunt and down over her asshole. In a sudden urge made Lois dip her fingers down and bury them in her steaming slit. The fingers were covered in oily blackness as she brought them to her face...and then she stuffed the salty ambrosia into her mouth while her left hand circled her clitty.

Head empty, lost in the echoes of him, the reporter bucked and moaned, frigging herself harder and faster. Fucking the night away, until her hands grew cramped and stiff, her raw pussy aching. In animal heat, Lois crawled to the corner of the bed and rubbed her aching cunt against that triangular nub of the mattress. All human dignity falling away as she closed her eyes and bucked her hips, clenched her ass cheeks and moaned, over and over, his name...

"Lucifer...Lucifer...my lord...my lover...Lucifer...aaagh!"

And so on until morning.

The Morningstar smiled to himself as he heard her cries, as he went about his business. She had called him; she had paid his price; and now he owed her a service. It pleased him that she had not sought to barter with him like he was a fishmonger of souls, nor had she sought to seduce him. No, he had simply taken his due...and she had been willing, all too willing, in that moment, and the honesty and innocence of their coupling had moved him to do something he had not done for ages.

A part of him wondered what she would name the child. Yet that was not the business of the moment.

Through shadows he stepped, bypassing all the cleverly-placed wards and spells of concealment and protection. Right into the heart of Blaze's domain, beneath the club that was her foothold in this mortal realm. The scarlet succubus lay in her chair before a bank of monitors, attended to be naked slaves. Lucifer's nostrils' twitched as he tasted the hell-stink on them. Simple women who had sold themselves body and soul, and had profited nothing from it.

With a snap of his fingers, the monitors went dark.

In an instant, Blaze was on her feet, pushing the women away, senses alert and attuned as she sought what power worked against her. Lucifer stood silent as one by one he unwove her spells. The succubus wasted no breath in curses, but swiftly worked to rebuild her crumbling defenses, to reinforce and protect what was left, letting the outer-most wards fall first in order to shore up her most important inner defenses.

The Morningstar imagined that very soon, all over the world, mystics and sorcerers would be alerted to Blaze's presence here. It amused him to watch her work, with all the speed and skill and power he knew her to possess, utterly unaware of him standing behind her. In her blindspot.

The women saw him. Lucifer winked at them, and gave the tiniest nods of his head. Their souls, stolen from Blaze's realm, slipped back into their bodies...and the naked women fled, perhaps to resume their old lives, perhaps to find new ones. Blaze, so enrapt in the ongoing collapse of all the structures of power she had built, barely noticed.

At last, he tired of the game. Blaze's increasing desperation had begun to tell on her mystic resources, and she began to invoke names that she ought not to. Lucifer frowned as she begged a favor of Yog-Sothoth...of Nyarlathotep...offered praise and promises to the Many-Angled Ones...and at last, he cleared his throat.

She turned, loudly, a terrible name on her lips...and his hand grasped her throat.

In an instant, like the shake of the table that causes the house of cards, all her spells and enchantments collapsed about her.

"You have had your fun, little succubus," Lucifer said quietly. "But your work has all been undone, and there are forces now moving against you against which you cannot stand...not even with their help. And you of all should know that some favors come at too high a price."

Her throat twisted under his grip, but Lucifer knew shapeshifters of old, and beneath his grasp and his will, it was his reality that prevailed.

"Go now with whatever you have gained form your little venture. I will clean up your mess," he said.

His grip slackened just enough for her to mutter a few words.

"My lord, please...no! I can still..." she blathered. His countenance showed his boredom.

"It was not a request," he said. The portal opened beneath her feet, too small, and ash she was drawn through it her body stretched and bones cracked. Her features ran together as wormlike she was drawn back down to Hell by its own infernal gravity, like the thread drawn through the eye of a needle.

The portal closed with a bare thought. Lucifer looked around and sighed. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel Lois Lane wrapped around his cock.

"We will meet again, Lois Lane," he said, dark eyes flashing. "On some other night out."