End: Take Her To The Hospital

In her dreams, a crimson cock plunged through her eye socket. Stabbed straight into her brain. Each thrust made the reporter's body flail in uncontrollable ecstasy. Sensations she could not describe as the cockhead slammed into her grey matter. Erased words. All that Lois Lane was fucked out of her skull, one bit of brain damage at a time, until finally the reporter was a drooling puppet with cum leaking out of her gaping eye-pussy...and the cock, wet with brains, moved to the other eye, so far unsullied, to even her up.

The soft susurrus of the hospital woke her. Lois Lane felt no pain, which she took as a sign that she was on really good ****; even though she could feel the bed beneath her and the sheets on top of that, Lois felt as if she was floating. She breathed, slowly and carefully, and smelled disinfectant...and something else. Slightly sulfurous, almost spicy, with an undercurrent of musk.

"Wakey wakey, sweetmeat," a familiar voice said, just soft enough for Lois to hear.

The reporter's eyes opened, just to slits at first, to get used to the light...but she found herself in a darkened room, and the horned figure of the demon Blaze sat at the foot of the bed.

"Blaze!" Lois hissed.

She couldn't see the demon's smile, but she felt it.

"No need to be angry, sweetmeat. You did win, after all. By default, as it were. After all, having sex with you while you're **** would be...against the terms of the bet."

Lois chewed that thought. She didn't completely trust Blaze. Yet the demonic dickgirl seemed to be keeping a respectful difference. And Lois couldn't feel anything down below to suggest she had been molested. Not that she would know unless she reached down and checked.

"So. I and the other women go free," Lois said.

"Yes, yes. Back to your wearisome mortal lives," Blaze said. Her white eyes seemed to shine in the darkness. "You play a clever game, sweetmeat. That little phone call of yours? Tricksy. That wasn't in the rules either."

Lois Lane kept her silence. She wished her body didn't feel so full of cotton wool right now. She wasn't even sure if she was thinking straight.

"Given that you...bent...the rules, I propose we play this game again. When you're better, of course. One night, you will wake up with no memory of me. There will be a knock at your door. And I'll have until dawn to seduce my way into your pants."

Blaze leaned over, and Lois realized the demon's hand had slipped under the bedding. Hot fingers slid around the reporter's ankle.

"Unless you want to surrender to me right now?"

Stone-faced, the reporter shot back: "Go to hell."

A tinkle of laughter. Then the dark form of the horned demon seemed to turn sideways, grow thin...and she was gone. Leaving only a hot ring around the reporter's ankle, a whiff of sulfur and musk.

Voices in the hall. The door creaked open. Lois squinted against the light, raised her hand to shield her eyes as a tall, broad form filled the doorway.

"Lois!" Clark Kent said. "The attending nurse said you had a fractured skull..."

"Hey, Smallville. Yeah, my night out got...a little out of control," Lois admitted. "But all's well that ends well, right?"

He grinned in relief as he came to the side of the bed. Yet Lois Lane's answering smile was weak. Sometime in the future, this would all play out again...and Lois had no idea if next time she'd win.