End: More Than She Thought She Did

"...and now that I think of it, some of the sigils that the coven members are tattooed with are reminiscent of those in the Dictionnaire Infernal 1818, but they've been modified with a ring of cuneiform inscriptions which I suspect is meant to invoke the powers of the demons but prevent their influence..."

Lois Lane nodded her head absently as they approached the Black Door. Rose had turned out to be an absolute occult nerd, and more astute and observant than Lois had credited. The reporter was rapidly warming up to the transgirl...and it didn't hurt that watching her ass sway back and forth was making things hard for the reporter down below.

Once in the temple itself, Rose was in awe...her jaw dropped as she saw the statue of the demon with its massive cock...and dropped even more when Lois showed her how it slid aside, and the treasure it held.

"This book," Rose said, barely able to breathe. "It's...it should be in a library or a museum. It's magnificent. A grimoire. A real grimoire. A real, functional..."

She turned to Lois. "Do me! Please!"

Lois Lane grinned and flipped the pages until she came once more to the spell "To Obtain The ſorme of Your Deſire..." and was it her imagination, or did the pages turn a little too easily, and open to readily to the page she wanted. Lois ignored that. With the ceremonial knife she moved to prick her finger.

"Not yours!" Rose stopped her. The transgirl already had her pants off, and held her pierced cock toward Lois. "Here. Pierce my glans. Use my blood."

The reporter hesitated. "Are you sure? I mean, that's going to hurt...and if it doesn't work..."

Rose gave a tight-lipped smiled. "It has to work. It has to. And the Aztecs used to make blood sacrifices by piercing their cockheads with a thorn. I...just, do it. Please? I need this to work. I'll do anything."

Lois hesitated...but only for a moment. She pressed the tip of the blade against the middle part of the glans, away from the Prince Albert piercing...and pressed down until bright red blood welled up. Rose muffled a whimper of pain, but Lois quickly dabbed her forefinger in the bloody wound, and drew the sigil on Rose's flat stomach.

"I'm going to saw the incantation...just try to fix the image of your ideal self in your mind. As you are now...but female. With a pussy, a uterus, ovaries, breasts."

"Fertile," Rose said fervently.

Lois turned back to the book and read: "O friend and companion of night, thou who rejoicest in the baying of dogs and spilt blood..."

It was as before. The very air of the room seemed to hold its breath. The blood from Rose's wounded cock dripped down onto the floor in bright crimson splashes. Lois could feel the anticipation rise...the hair stood up on her neck and arms, her words seemed to echo in her ears...and the image, the image of Rose as a woman, a true woman, a biological woman with working cunt and womb...it made her cock hard and her balls throb.

The image wavered in Lois Lane's mind. She could feel something tugging at it, distorting her vision...and realized that it was Rose, Rose's image of herself warring with Lois Lane's vision of who she wanted Rose to be...and in realizing that, Lois felt a sudden slackening, as a tug-of-war when the line goes limp, and a surge inside her head that filled the reporter's skull to bursting.

Lois pointed the bloody tip of the dagger at Rose's sigil and nearly shouted:

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos...so mote it be!"

Everything drained from Lois. The **** of the pronouncement seemed to take everything she had from her, and her knees hit the stone floor hard enough to raise a yelp. She almost swooned in place, suddenly hollow, hungry, exhausted, mentally dull...and she collapsed, finally, eyes closed. The dagger hit the floor with a clatter.

When Lois Lane awoke, it was in her own bed, in her own apartment. She might have never left for her night out...except a very top-heavy, thick-assed, short girl with blonde locks and cock-sucking lips was bouncing on top of the reporter's rigid cock. Lois could see a metal ring piercing the shortstack's clitoral hood and little barbels through her nipples as her tits jiggled and shook. She looked just as Lois Lane had pictured her...and the transgender reporter was, for once, not one to ask questions as she grabbed those childbearing hips, thrust upwards, and unloaded her balls into that tight cunny.

"I...hope you don't mind," Rose said as she ground her cunny around the reporter's cock, which make sloppy sucking noises. "I shoveled us into a cab and used your key to get in. I don't...I can't really go back to my old life looking like this. And with this much cum you're almost guaranteed to have knocked me up. So you better take responsibility!"

Lois nearly groaned at this speech, which sounded like it had been plagiarized from a Japanese manga. One of the really bad hentai ones, where drunken dickgirls could come twelve times in a row until their lover's stomachs were swollen and looked pregnant already.

The reporter ran her hands over Rose's stomach. Hard and flat. The jizz was already leaking out of Rose's cunny, in cowgirl position, so that Lois could feel it run over her balls.

"Well," Lois said. "I suppose I could let you stay here...and I might be able to convince Perry to let me take you on as my assistant, or as an intern...we'll have to pay you under the table until we get your paperwork sorted out...but our first assignment is going to be to write an article on that cult! Understood?"

Rose grinned hugely and gave a snappy salute. "Yes ma'am, boss!"

Lois Lane sighed.

Magic was real. She had cock. She had a new assistant, who was quite the piece of ass. And if she wasn't already pregnant, the reporter had no doubt she would be soon...and somehow, the reporter couldn't find a problem with any of that.

Now, whether Blaze would have a problem with that when she found out that her grimoire and dagger were missing...that is another story.