End: To Be Anointed With The Blood of Ares

Lois Lane felt her heart thump faster as Kallisto led her to the door. Her lithe body was nude, and her nipples hard. She felt that tension in her body, the same as she felt whenever she was in a rowdy crowd or a mosh pit. Her hands clamped into fists of themselves, and she had to **** herself to relax, to let the tension melt away or else she wouldn't be fast enough to react to whatever was about to happen.

"You have to be naked. There'll be a fight. Fight as hard as you can. You have to draw blood..." The strong woman leaned in and kissed Lois, on the mouth. She smiled wildly at the reporter. "It won't be what you expect. I promise. You'll do great. You're a fighter. Go on."

The door opened. A hard smack of Kallisto's hand on the reporter's ass. It still stung as Lois Lane stepped into the darkened room, and the door closed behind her.

This was it. This was why Lois had come out tonight. To find the missing women, and why they had gone missing.

The air was still, but warm. No goosebumps on her skin. It smelled like a gym, or a locker-room. Old body smells, sweat, exertion. Her bare feet felt polished wooden boards as she moved through the space...and then the darkness breathed.

"What do you know of Ares, supplicant?"

The voice was andogynous, deep, and Lois spun around into a crouch to face it. The darkness was absolute, but she heard the creek of the floor in front of her. Something, or someone, moved there.

"Ancient Greek god. An enemy of Athena, and Wonder Woman," Lois said, automatically.

"Yes. The Amazons, and their patrons. Great warrior women who do not pay homage to the god of war," the voice said. They circled each other in the dark, and Lois Lane strained every sense. Not sure when the first blow would come. "Yet war changes over time. Adapts to new weapons, strategies, tactics. The god of war much change too."

The crack of the blow against the reporter's shoulder made her stagger backward. Pain lanced through her body, left arm suddenly numb. Instead of swinging blindly, the reporter sidestepped and ducked, wove, tried to imagine what she would do. It was like playing chess in her head, right fist down by her side, a coiled spring ready to burst.

"Too many saw war as the domain of men. Yet women could be soldiers too. The Amazons resented Ares for his masculinity. Athena thought herself wise, to have her Amazons. So Ares determined to prove them wrong...to show that she could change..."

Lois ducked the next blow by a hair, and launched herself forward. Her fist flew and the shock of impact went down the whole length of her arm. Right hand buried in soft tit-flesh, and the hard muscle beneath. It was like she had punched a wall.

No more words then, for a space. The two were in contact now, and their hands fluttered over each other in naked grips. The hard, massive body of the unseen woman against Lois Lane's slim, lithe form. Lois immediately realized her disadvantage—yet she had trained for this kind of fight. Her leg slipped behind a knee and she pushed and pulled at once. They went to the ground and tumbled, one over the other, strove for joint locks, for position.

It wasn't enough. A hand clamped her lower face. Muscles thicker than her thigh in the forearm. Too strong. With a flash of fury, Lois opened her mouth wide, her teeth bit into the soft flesh between thumb and forefinger...harder and harder...until bright copper blossomed in her mouth. The hot blood trickled down her throat.

Then the grip relaxed. The hand moved from her mouth, and Lois felt the blood on her lips, painted on her chin.

"Good! You have fire. You will make a magnificent amazon...my daughter."

Lois Lane shook in the aftermath of the combat. She felt that huge, hot body against hers, but now the feel was different. She felt the hardness of the huge nipple that pressed against palm. The huge palm that cupped her buttock. It was as if she cuddled with a giant. A horny giant.

"Come," Ares rumbled, as one hand caressed the reporter's shoulder, and pushed her down. Lois Lane's face scraped the hard plain of well-defined abs. The trim, bristle of pubic hair. Her lips kissed the soft, pungent, impossibly hot sex of a goddess.

"Worship me," Ares whispered. "Partake of me."

Lois Lane understood as her tongue slipped between those netherlips. It reminded her of when she licked an open wound. The menses flowed, thick and sluggish, onto the reporter's tongue, and mingled with the blood Lois had already swallowed. It burned its way down her esophagus, and the pain faded as the reporter's heart pumped harder. Her excitement dripped down her thighs. A fire was lit in Lois Lane's brain as she sucked and slurped the huge cunt, as Ares' thick legs closed around her back and the great hands held her head. Lois lost herself in her act of worship.

It would be some hours later before Lois emerged, naked, with blood-stained lips, and a strange light in her eyes. Kallisto grinned and greeted her new sister...admired the the bulge of the reporter's muscles, the bruises left by Ares' fingers.

With uncharacteristic boldness, the reporter's fingers went to Kallisto's cleft. The reporter felt energized, wired, exhausted, excited...fervent in her need for a fight or fuck or both.

In the dark, Ares fingered her hole. With Lois Lane as her latest convert, the goddess of war could recruit others...her Amazons would grow in strength and skill to rival, and then exceed the sisters of Wonder Woman.

Ares would prove to them she didn't need a cock to wage war...and Lois Lane, anointed with her blood, would be her War Woman, to lead the charge.

Yet that is another story.