End: Stub Out Her Cigarette

Lois Lane watched the cancerstick descend. The white paper tube with the burning coal a the tip. The reporter went cross-eyed, not even bothering to move as it swept past her nose, the burning tobacco reek filling her nostrils.

Heat registered, just a moment before the pain. A circle of red-hot agony on her tongue, the taste of ash and blood, the sizzle of flesh burning, a bacon scent mixed with the tobacco smoke...and Lois sat there rooted to the spot, her tongue stuck to that hard cock-tip, her whole body so alive.

Blaze stared down into the reporter's eyes.

"You've gone deep now, haven't you Lois? Like you're dreaming, yet know it. Except you're not in control here are you? I am. You invited me in. Gave me an opening. Now you're here, in my place of power...and I can see the gears and levers of your mind, know which buttons to push...blink, Lois. Blink if you can taste the ash on your tongue."

Slowly, deliberately, the reporter's eyes opened and closed. The tip of her tongue was still stuck to the demon's prick, the circle of pain where she had stubbed out her cigarette was there, throbbing, the grey ash flowing over her tongue. Lois kept thinking about cigarettes...and what came after cigarettes, what her mother had said...

Gathering control of herself, Lois leaned forward. Her upper lip curled around her teeth. Her mouth closed around the head. Lips sealed behind the glans, and Lois could still taste ash, and the spot on her tongue was a throbbing little point of pain. She had to blink back tears as she began to suck.

Momma said, momma said...

"Yes, momma said bad girls smoke. Momma said bad girls suck cock. You're a bad girl now, Lois Lane. A bad woman. I bet all the other women at your work are jealous of you, aren't they? The snooty bitches that don't know how to give head to get ahead, isn't that right?"

Faces filled the reporter's mind's eye. The women at the Daily Planet. Even the friendliest of them was still her sexual rival in some way, constantly judging how she looked, dressed, acted. If a hair was out of place, it was around the building in an hour. More than one of them had accused her of doing favors to get to where she had gotten by dint of hard work and prize-winning journalism.

The reporter blinked, her head began to move, tongue sliding lower, along the soft skin at the bottom of the scarlet shaft. Something was wrong, with the words...with her head...

"Hmm, maybe pushing a little too hard there. But you do pride yourself in giving head, don't you?" The demon said. "You like being able to get your boyfriends off, maybe feel a little proud if you overheard them talking about that incredible blowjob they got last night?"

That much was true, Lois thought, as the tip of the stiff prick grazed the top of her mouth. She attempted to swirl her tongue around the glans and almost choked; that circle of burned flesh on her tongue was like a point of fire, the ash was gritty as it circulated around her mouth. Like she was licking an ashtray.

"You should feel proud. It takes more than a warm hole to get a guy off. Any of them can do that with their hand. No, you know what you're doing. You take pride in your hard-won skills. After all, you practiced, didn't you?"

Lois had practiced, she remembered as she bobbed her head a little faster, palms sweaty on her knees. At university she had worked to fellate different things, watched tutorial videos, did everything she could to prepare herself for the real thing...only to discover that nothing could quite prepare her for the real thing. The heat of a living body in her mouth, the taste of the latex, the feel of sucking on their balls as the shaft lay over her face, that hot bitter splooge spraying on her waiting tongue...

"You've dreamed of it haven't you? Sucking off someone you didn't know. Dirty, anonymous sex. The kind of thing bad women do."

The reporter was trying to take the cock deeper now, the head brushing against the back of her mouth. The pain in her tongue had settled into a dull throb. Of course she had those dreams. Most women did. Of course, her mother would thing she was a slut, so Lois could never tell her, but in the safety of her own head...

"You went into the men's room once at the Daily Planet, didn't you?" Blaze's voice was all that Lois could hear now, her eyes closed as her saliva dissolved the ash and she swallowed it. The cocktip was weeping precum now, salty and surprisingly not that bitter at all.

Lois knew what Blaze was talking about. It had been her first week at the Daily Planet, the "old bathroom" on the first floor that had never been remodeled. And in the back...the very last stall...there was a hole in the wall. So that someone could lock themselves in and stare into the other one, just at cock-height.

Stare, and do other things...

"That's good Lois, very good. Now, listen carefully. This is what you're going to do. This is who you are..."

Waking up to the dawn, the night was a blank to Lois. She remembered the taste and texture of the cock. The nasty smell of cigarettes was in her clothes and hair, and Lois wrinkled her nose at that. There was a painful spot on her tongue, as though she had burned it.

Lois Lane was absolutely certain she had sucked a cock. Licked her lips. It wasn't the first time. She was good at sucking cock. In fact, there was that little gloryhole at work...Lois licked her lips again, stared into the mirror. Someone would be there tonight, she was sure of it. A nice, tasty cock. The reporter smiled, thinking of the salty load that would spray down her throat, the anonymous sperm donor giving her a gift for letting her practice on their hard prick. It got her wet just thinking about it.

"Such a bad girl," Lois whispered as she selected the lipstick she would leave on the cock she sucked tonight. Her mother wouldn't approve...and that alone sent a thrill through the reporter's body. She was so bad!

The night out was over, but Lois Lane couldn't wait for the cocks she'd suck in the days and nights to cum.