Epilogue: Adjustments

The violet contacts were necessary, though it bothered Lois Lane to touch her eyeballs every morning. The cock was another adjustment; Lois Lane had, belatedly, had to learn about the fine art of "tucking"—using her fingers she gently pressed her balls up into her body, and then tucked the pink cock back along her pussy—and it wasn't great, but at least it presented a distinguishable bulge in her panties.

Yet as days turned into weeks, and the changes remained, Lois was aware that there were other adjustments that had to be made. With her new eyes, she could see—or maybe sight wasn't quite the right word—she could sense things she shouldn't be able to. Taste emotions, catch flashes of auras around people and objects, sudden insights into rooms when she walked in. New experiences for the Daily Planet's greatest reporter, who had never imagined herself as "psychic," but who now had to resist the urge to rely too heavily on the evidence of her new senses...though she had to admit that it came in handy during interviews, as her ability to tell when someone was lying became foolproof, and sometimes if she pressed it she could even "taste" the sins that clung to the people she was talking to.

Maybe there was something else that changed in her. Lois noticed that she attracted more attention from women—or maybe she was simply more aware of the attention that women paid to her. The reporter wasn't dressing any more provocatively, yet the women in the office seemed friendlier...more apt to touch her during their conversations...to talk about their sex lives, including confessions of things that they shouldn't...and whenever they got explicit, Lois could feel the warm burn down between her legs as her cock started to stiffen.

Yet the more serious adjustment that Lois faced were her "appointments" with Circe.

Sometimes, Lois would open the door to her apartment...and step into that familiar sunlit beach, with Circe lounging on a chair, or reading a book beneath the pavilion with a glass of wine. Sometimes she wore a white shift, other times a green bikini, and more and more often she was simply nude...

"Ah, darling," the sorceress said. "And how is my 'patient' doing."

"It's been a hard week," Lois said, and then winced at her unintended entendre.

"Show me," Circe said, as her finger traced a symbol in the air, and the reporter's clothes fell to the floor as though Lois' body was suddenly intangible. It was disconcerting to Lois that she could actually trace something of the energies at play during that exchange...and a part of her almost wanted to repeat the gesture, to see if she could do it too...but then h balls popped down and her cock came erect.

"Hmm, yes," the naked sorceress licked her lips. "Quite a dilemma. Let me take care of that for you."

Lois stepped forward. Ever since that night, Circe had seemed obsessed with sucking her cock. She called it a 'treatment'—and assured Lois that it was necessary, that the reporter had absorbed far too much of Blaze's demonic essence and needed regular ejaculations to keep her condition under control—but in truth, Lois wondered if the sorceress wasn't somehow addicted to her dick.

Or if Lois herself was addicted to getting her cock sucked.

On her knees. One finger pressed on that soft bit of skin just beneath her balls. Lips open and tongue out, so that the head of the pink cock slid inside, the foreskin peeled back as Circe took her cock inside. The witch's hazel eyes burned with green fire...and she didn't stop, not until the whole thing was inside her mouth and the lips were wrapped around the base of the reporter's dick, with just that tiny hinto ff teeth, and the reporter could feel her throat...

"Circe...can I..." Lois asked as her legs quivered and her balls began to ache.

She gave a thumb's up. With pathetic eagerness, Lois Lane's hands clamped onto the side of Circe's head, buried in that black hair, and her hips moved on their own. Her mouth slid in and out of that hot-wet mouth-pussy, and Circe sat there on her knees, ass perched on her heels as the dickgirl reporter fucked her face.

The pressure of pent-up sperm built within the reporter's body. As always, she felt a surge of energy within her...and lust. The contacts popped out of her pure white eyes as they began to glow from within, and she began to thrust further and harder. Each thrust bent Circe backwards another inch, until before long the sorceress was bent over backwards, the back of her head pressed against the sand, Lois Lane's knees on the ground as her ass thumped forward, fucking Circe's face straight into the ground...

"Aaaaargh!" Lois cried out in triumph as she unleashed a burst of black jizz straight down the sorceress' throat. Her balls tightened and Lois squeezed her eyes tight.

With contemptuous ease, the sorceress flipped the reporter over. Lois lay with her back against the sands as Circe sucked hard, head bobbing. She was never satisfied until Lois was drained dry...and increasingly, their appointments lasted longer and longer.

Not that Lois minded at all.