Epilogue: Lois Lane, Blaze's Anal Slut

"I don't like to wait. When I want you, I'll come for you, and you had better be ready."

Lois Lane sighed as she put the enema away, and marked the time in her smartphone. The first couple of weeks had involved some messy and embarrassing accidents, but once the reporter had gotten into the habit of tracking her meals and bowel movements, and of regular enemas, it had just become part of her daily routine. She even sort of appreciated the attention it **** her to pay to her diet, and she had shed a few pounds, so that her flat stomach now showed the bare hint of her abdominal muscles.

Blaze, for her part, seemed to enjoy surprising Lois at unexpected times. On her way to work, an arm might slide itself between the reporter's arm and body and guide her into a public restroom. Or Lois might get an email during a slow moment at work, asking her to come to a certain stall in a certain restroom on another floor of the Daily Planet building. About once a week, the reporter's stomach would growl, and then there would be a knock at the door and the demon would be there, dressed in street clothes, with a bottle of wine and a bag of take-out food...so that Lois would spend the entire meal squirming, wondering when exactly they would get to the main business.

Sometimes, the demonic dickgirl wouldn't contact Lois for days. Other times, she would surprise Lois two, three times in a day...so that the reporter's ass was sore, cum oozing into her panties.

The third week, Lois Lane's period arrived. As she peeled away the stained panties and rinsed away the blood, she noticed the small black box with a scarlet ribbon on the toilet...and a slim white card. The reporter, standing there in only her nightshirt, turned the card over to read it.

Dear Anal Slut,
I can't imagine you'll be in the mood for the next few days, so a gift for you to remember me.
Wear it at work.
I'll know if you don't.
XXX

• Blaze

Lois sighed, opened the box...and was not surprised to see the shiny black, egg-shaped buttplug with the flared base nestled in the red tissue. She took it out and examined it. The whole thing seemed to be of a single piece of stone or glass—possibly obsidian—and surprisingly heavy. It fit snugly in the palm of her hand, but it wasn't any thicker than a cock at its widest part.

The half-naked reporter bit her lip, weighing the options. Before her night out, the idea of wearing a sex toy to work would have been pure fantasy. Now...the reporter rubbed her stomach as a period cramp began to set in. She definitely wasn't in the mood for Blaze to fuck her ass...why not have a little fun? If it proved too much of an effort or a distraction, the reporter knew she could always take it out, slip it into her purse.

Decision made, Lois resumed her little routine. The business with the enema was swift and painless, the waste of the night flushed away, a tampon slid in place...and then she squeezed a generous dollop of lube onto her new toy.

It was beautiful in its way. Hard and perfectly smooth, glassy and heavy. Cool to the touch, yet it warmed in her palm. The reporter felt a tingle of excitement as she carefully brought the slick stone toy behind her. She worked by touch until the rounded tip pressed at her anus.

There had been a time, not long ago, when Lois knew it would have hurt to press that toy into her ass. She had no illusions of being "loose"—but she was experienced now, squeezing her anal muscles and then relaxing them to help suck the toy in. The generous lube helped her as she applied ever more pressure, the round little egg forcing her anal ring wider and wider...as the tip of Blaze's cock did, at least three times a week...and then with a sigh it slid into place, her anal ring closing over the narrow neck...and that was it. Both of Lois Lane's holes were filled...and it felt oddly comforting.

Walking with the toy inside of her was something else though. Even though no one could see it, Lois could feel the mass and weight of the toy inside her bum. The little agitation of an asshole that couldn't fully close, and would sometimes squeeze hard on the neck before giving up the instinctive effort to dislodge it. The reporter found herself smiling as she passed through the milling crowds on the sidewalk, all of them completely unaware that she had a secret...and it was different, and yet somehow the same. Hadn't she always done this, every time she had a period? Carried around a little reminder inside of her? True, she hardly felt the tampon all day long. She got used to it, sometimes even forgot it was there...

Lois wondered if she would get used to this too.

At least, until she planted herself into her chair and almost yelped, the hard mass of the plug hitting her in just the right way. A crimson blush ran across the reporter's cheeks, and she glanced about her cubicle...but no one else seemed to have seen or heard her little moment. The reporter reminded herself to be more careful in the future.

Hours went by, as she went about the business of the day. Mandatory online training. Phone calls with sources. New assignment from her editor. Outlining an article, then writing it. More research. Lunch was brief; a bean sprout-and-pita-bread sandwich, washed down with an espresso and a bottle of water. Her period cramps gradually grew worse, and by the early afternoon Lois swallowed a couple of Tylenol and washed them down with a few sips of lukewarm tea.

Near the end of the day she found herself on the edge of her seat, shoes off. Rocking from the heels to the balls of her foot. Which caused the plug to wobble inside of her, just a little. A pleasant heat suffused the reporter's body as she lost herself in her writing. The added stimulation gave impetus to her typing, rather than being the distraction she thought it might be...and Lois only caught herself when she heard, softly but distinctly, the low moan that came from the back of her throat. The same sound she made when Blaze's cock rubbed hard just past the entrance to her ass.

Red-faced and sweating, Lois decided to call it a day.

Her ass began to burn. She needed to go home and clean herself out, wash her toy, change her tampon, eat dinner...and a part of her wondered if she would feel like masturbating. Normally she didn't, not while she was on the rag, but of course her ass wasn't the part of her that was bleeding...

There was a black box on the kitchen table when Lois arrived home. Almost identical to the first one, but longer. The reporter's lips twitched as she pulled the white card from the red ribbon.

Dearest Anal Slut,
I hope you enjoyed your day.
Take a little break.
Clean yourself out.
Wear this while you sleep.
I'll know if you don't.
XXX
-Blaze

Lois Lane opened the lid...and marveled at the smooth, slightly curved phallic rod with the flared tip. Carved out of a single piece of black obsidian, almost as long and thick as Blaze's cock...and a shiver ran through the reporter's whole body as she imagined what it would feel like inside of her.