End: Someplace Private

"Lezzzgo shomewhere..." Lois slurred. The room was spinning. Smiling faces, laughing faces. Music so loud she couldn't think. Absently, the drunken reporter felt Angelica's shoulder digging into her stomach, the dickgirl's hand on her ass as she carried Lois away...back behind the bar, past shelves of napkins, trash bags, boxes of beer...past a dingy bathroom...and then through a door as black as midnight.

Lois was laid down on a feather mattress on a four-poster bed. Stared up at a mirrored ceiling and saw she rested on bright white sheets, soft as Egyptian cotton. Staring at herself, the drunk woman moved on sudden impulse to shed what was left of her clothes...to stare at her naked body, black hair splayed out around her. She raised her head to see the dickgirl slowly shedding her own clothes, nowhere near as **** as Lois herself was, dark eyes drinking in the sight of the reporter's body...her hard cock standing out tall and proud.

The reporter leered, because she knew that cock was all for her...and drunk as she was, she was still intelligent, and creative. Now her inhibitions were gone, and strange fantasies bubbled through her brain.

With an athletic heave, Lois brought her legs up...and then, giving silent thanks to years of pilates and yoga lessons, and maybe just a little to how the **** helped her ignore the grunts and moans of her body, she bent them back...pressed her shoulders forward...and, with a grunt of triumph, abs burning, she crossed her ankles behind her head.

Blaze stood, utterly naked now except for a cowboy hat, that half-smile gracing her lips. She gave a little silent clap...but Lois was only getting started. The reporter spit on her hands and reached for her butt.

"Want...to do...shomething shpeshial..." Lois wheezed. It was hard to breathe in this position, her spine and hamstrings were aching, but Lois had ignored worse pains than that when she became focused on something.

"Oh?" Blaze stepped toward the bed, her raging erection ready to despoil either of Lois Lane's wide open and unprotected holes. "What's that?"

In answer, Lois pressed her index fingers against her butthole...and with a grimace, pressed them in. Even with the spit acting as lube, it was unpleasant work, and Lois winced, fighting through the sudden pain. Blaze watched, as fascinated as a cat would be by a mouse caught with its tail in a trap, struggling to get out.

"Want you to...shtuff your ballsh in my assh."

Blaze almost laughed...her smile lost in a manic grin...and then she saw the reporter's face and knew she was utterly, deadly serious.

Intrigued despite herself, the dickgirl slid herself up on the bed. Her cock hovered above the reporter's saliva-sticky cunny, and Lois grinned as she felt the hairless sack with its precious cargo against her stretched-out anus...and then, Blaze reached down behind her.

Drunk as she was, Lois could not read the expression on the demon's face as she pressed her first testicle against the reporter's asshole. Even sober, it would have been difficult to read, as elastic flesh slowly gave way before ever-more strength, but the small "o" that Blaze's mouth made, the widening of the eyes, the way those eyes turned pure white for a moment as thought they rolled up into her head, spoke of wonder at a sensation the dickgirl had never experienced before...

It took long minutes, and Lois Lane's joints were aching, her leg muscles tense, her spine cramped, her pussy drooling, and her ass stuffed and on fire as both of the testicles were shoved inside her ass. The dickgirl's rigid, quivering cock was pressed tight against the reporter's cunny, unable to penetrate it because of the angle, but both of them could feel the heat in each other's loins, and the purple head of the cock seemed ready to burst...boiling hot precum drizzling out in a steady stream into the reporter's bellybutton.

The reporter's leer deepened.

"Loish...shmash!"

The fingers holding up the overstretched anus pulled out. With all the strength in her drunken body, Lois Lane's anal orifice snapped shut...her gluteus maximus squeeze...and the dickgirl's balls were crushed. Blaze didn't even have a chance to scream; her jaw dropped in a wordless roar as thick black jizz like squid ink sprayed out of the end of her cock. Every vein and artery in the dickgirl's body stood out on her skin as the black rain went on and on, splattering against Lois Lane's tits...her face...staining the white sheets indelibly...and Lois opened her mouth and stretched out her tongue to catch the black burning drops, bitter as anise that fell on her...

...and maybe it was the black seed she swallowed, and maybe it was the ****, but darkness crowded in on Lois after that, and for a long time she was lost in dreamless sleep.

She awoke, with a mouth parched and tongue fuzzy, head pounding and ass burning. There was no sign of the dickgirl...no sign of Angelica Blaze, except her cowboy hat and boots. Somehow, through some superhuman effort, the reporter put her filthy clothes back on her sticky body, and taking the dickgirl's hat and boots as souvenirs, stumbled back to the bar...and from the empty bar to the empty club...and then out onto the streets of Metropolis, where the sun beat down cruel as the devil's own mistress...and Lois Lane would never quite remember everything that had happened to her in that club on her night out.