Epilogue: A Knock At The Door

Lois Lane was on the bed, faced down, cum bubbling out of her well-fucked slit, snoring softly. Blaze admired the sight. As a demon, she didn't need to sleep, and just the sight of that beautiful victim utterly fucked out and contended as her Satanic sperm swam about, looking for an egg made her cock twitch...but there are only so many times a night even a Queen of Hell could get it up, and in the pale morning light, the great soft trouser snake remained quiescent.

The knock came again. Blaze slipped out of bed, grabbed the sheet off the floor and held it over her front. It was probably just a delivery or something...and she still had her human guise on, even if her hair was a muss.

Blaze opened the door...and her eyes widened in recognition. Despite the frumpy suit, the black plastic eyeglass frames, and the hunched shoulders, there was no way her supernatural senses could miss the sense of sheer power exuded from that body...or the sense of recognition as the sky-blue eyes widened and then narrowed.

He was carrying two cups of coffee, and a box of donuts.

"Angie?" A sleepy Lois called out from the bedroom. "Who is it?"

Blaze turned her head...so that both she and the Man of Steel saw Lois staggered out into the open, naked, jizz dripping down from her snatch, bleary-eyed and covered with bruises, scratches, and love-bites.

CRUNCH

The demon never saw the fist that slammed hard into the side of her jaw...harder than Superman had ever struck her during any of their battles...and unprepared as the demon was, she found the floor rushing up to greet her, form flowing as her natural demonic figure reasserted herself...and then darkness came over her.

Where do demons go when they die? Blaze wondered. She seemed to float in an endless black void. The Abyss. The total negation of self, where over time even the spirit would rot and decay until every shred of being was gone, dispersed, reduced to its constituent energies...and nullified. The demon could already feel it happening, her form growing hazy around the edges as her very being evaporated away...lost forever...

Something wet hit the demon's face, and she spluttered. Her head ached as though some evil little gnome was drilling at her skull from the inside, and the left side of her face throbbed, painfully swollen.

"...coming around," Lois said. "Did you have to hit her so hard, Clark?"

"Yes," his voice was dry, flat, even testy. Blearily, the demo tried to open her eyes...and found the left eye was swollen shut.

They were seated at Lois Lane's kitchen table. The reporter had thrown on a black silk robe embroidered with golden dragons. Clark Kent sat on Blaze's left side, where she had to turn her head to see him. Someone had splashed water on Blaze's face.

On the table in front of her was a dark horn, cracked at the base where it had broken off.

Instinctively, Blaze's hand came up to her forehead, fingertips wincing as they found the shattered remnants of horn. She frowned with the side of her mouth that was still working.

"Have to sand that down before regrowing it," Blaze mumbled. "Or it'll be all messed up."

"You're lucky Clark didn't shove it up your ass," Lois said. "We've been talking, while you had your nap. He isn't very happy with you, Angie."

The demon twisted her head to glance at the Man of Steel. She knew he'd never willingly commit ****, but he looked like he'd gladly pull her cock off from her body and feed it to her. She'd never seen him so angry.

Blaze coughed. "Is there any more coffee?"

Begrudgingly, he pushed his untouched Starbucks cup towards her.

"You've committed a lot of crimes," he said. "If you're going to continue with your...relationship...with Lois, you need to answer for them."

The demon slurped the bitter bean juice—it seemed Superman was neither a sugar or cream person—and raised an eyebrow.

Lois reached forward and grabbed the demon's hand.

"You do want to be with me, right? It wasn't all just...pillow talk?"

Blaze gripped her hand back. A part of her was already thinking about how she could just teleport out of here, vanish back to hell where Superman could never follow...maybe come back for Lois later...but it would look bad if she did it right then and there.

"What did you have in mind?" Blaze said.

"Lois and I have discussed it. Indefinite house arrest," he said coolly. "And community service."

Blaze took a little sip of her coffee. That seemed...oddly reasonable. If it got the Kryptonian out of her hair, she could easily slip away, and...

"You'll need to make a binding contract," he added, "Dr. Fate and Zatanna are already working on an ankle bracelet to enforce it. No going back to hell, no resuming your throne. You'll be stuck in the mortal world, helping the community. That will provide...some measure of justice."

Lois leaned forward. One of her hands slipped under the table, grabbing for the demon's knee. She missed, and Blaze felt the blood rush to her face as the soft fingers grabbed ahold of her dick and squeezed, a dribble of last night's sperm oozing out of the pisshole.

"It's the only way," the reporter said slowly, "that we can be together. You understand that, don't you Angie?"

Blaze took a deep breath. She was basically being asked to give up her entire life...just so that she could keep fucking Lois Lane. For a moment, she thought of all the skanky succubi in the depths, the incubus bois, the innocent virgins she had corrupted, the souls she had bought and sold for mere carnal pleasures...and let out a sigh, sinking back into her chair.

"What kind of community service are we talking about?"