End: No—But Circe Lets Her Go, For Now

Much of the rest of the night was a blur. Lois Lane, never multi-orgasmic, remembered cumming and cumming. Circe had enjoyed tugging at the rings in her pussy and nipples, coaxing new orgasms out of the intrepid reporter. Yet even human women have their limits, and as the sun rose to the horizon, Lois lay in a daze, sexually exhausted. Disgusted with herself...with what she had done.

Something warm and wet rubbed against the reporter's face. Lois tried to turn away. Something trickled out over her lips. Tangy, but familiar.

Circe was wiping her pussy against the reporter's face. The sorceress grabbed the reporter's hair and pulled her head up, scrubbing her cunny with Lois's black locks...and then let the reporter fall back down into the stand.

"I've enjoyed our time here, Lois," Circe said. "You've been a good little fuck-puppet. And I love the changes."

The sorceress pulled on the rings in Lois Lane's nipples, and to keep her tits from being ripped off, the reporter sat up. Abs aching, Pussy leaking foully into the wet, tainted sand. Circe caught the back of her neck and **** her tongue in Lois's mouth, not even caring about her own piss beading the reporter's lips.

"I've put my mark on you," Circe whispered. "Open your eyes."

The reporter's eyes snapped open. She found herself staring into Circe's hazel eyes, glowing from within with green flames. Lois shook, as those flames stretched out...and seemed to slide through her own pupils.

"You will tell no one about tonight," Circe said. "I will visit you again, pet. Our pleasures are not yet done, oh no. But do not worry."

Circe smiled like a wolf. "I will give you gifts such as you cannot imagine. The chains that bind you will be of gold."

Lois wasn't sure what the sorceress meant...except that her sexual servitude was just beginning.

"Now...Sleep."

Lois Lane awoke, long after the night had ended. In her own bed, naked, the night's clothes dumped in a pile. She staggered into the shower on wobbly legs. Her cunt felt raw...and the rings of her new piercings jangled. The reporter wanted to vomit, unable to deny what had happened...and not even the pounding heat of the boiling water could wash away the utter shame and guilt she felt for what she had done.

Clean outside, if not inside, Lois emerged feeling a little better...when the phone rang.

"Lane," she answered. Listened. "Yes, those are the women I asked about...yes, I can be there in an hour. Thank you officer."

Lois hung up. All four of the missing women had showed up, at daybreak, in a local drunk tank...and that was too much of a coincidence for the reporter. But she didn't have time to wonder at what game the sorceress was playing. She needed to go down there, bail them out, conduct an interview...

The reporter paused as she pulled open her underwear drawer. There was a square of paper there, right on top of the folded clothing.

No more panties. - C

Lois touched the note...and the silk and cotton and polyester panties all crumbled beneath her touch, turning into a fine grey dust.

The reporter set her jaw. Her night out was over...but she had a long, terrible road ahead.