Epilogue: More Trouble

Blaze could still feel her wife's lips on her cockhead as she strolled down to the park to pick up used needles and doggy doo. Even though Lois had spent half the night up vomiting and the other half working on her article, the pregnant reporter wouldn't let her spouse out the door without sucking her cock. It put a spring in the demon's step, starting the day off right...

Then something tugged her, not from up or down, forward or backward, one side or another, but in some other direction orthogonal to all others...and Blaze felt herself stretched thin, sliding through the subtle realms...and when her being reincorporated itself her boots landed on cold cement, inside a chalk circle and pentagram with black candles at every apex.

The demon, still in her human form and human clothes, with work gloves and durable jeans rolled up at the cuffs, long-sleeved flannel shirt and high-visibility vest, hair drawn back in a ponytail, growled.

The candles smelled of human baby fat, so much sweeter than bacon. There was virgin's blood ground into the chalk, giving it a pinkish tinge, and the signs and sigils were in old Atlantean. Blaze's frown deepened as she saw her name spelled out in carefully executed characters around the outside rim of the inscription. Someone was playing with fire...and was wearing asbestos gloves.

She looked up and saw, without much surprise, that she was in a basement. Some modern building, empty except for a huge old wooden work table against one wall, and a small brazier in which coals burned. Recently cleaned, fresh coats of soundproofing paint on the wall and...seated cross-legged before her, a book resting in his lap, a figure in a starry blue robe that rose to a kind of brass helmet or skull-cap. The face that looked into hers was worn and weathered as old leather boots, the hairs on his chin unnaturally black, the dark eyes shot through with madness...or maybe the kind of super-sanity that comes upon certain old and powerful sorcerers who have lived too long and seen too much.

"Felix Faust," she named him.

"Blaze, daughter of Shazam," he said, his voice hollow and dry, but powerful, as though he had practiced these lines many times. "You are bound to that circle, and it is ****, destruction, and the unmaking of you to leave it. I have questions for you, demon. Tasks to perform. Serve me well in this, and your service will be rewarded with blood and souls..."

"Not interested," the demon said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not in that business anymore."

His smile was ghastly. Young men and women would run from that leer, and even seasoned professionals of the flesh-pots would reach for a knife or can of mace, check discreetly to make sure their way of escape was clear.

"You will serve me. Your power may be diminished by your binding, but the bodily fluids of even a half-demon can be potent magical reagents...and I have not had a leman for many years."

Blaze measured her next words carefully. "Go fuck yourself."

Felix Faust stood. Drawn up to his full height, he was nearly as tall as Blaze, and he held the book closed before him.

"Perhaps I should bring your lover here?" He said. "No doubt she would enjoy the attentions of a true man."

He made a gesture, his fingers twisting through dimensions they should not have been able to, so that they seemed to pass through each other...and with a pop of displaced air, Lois Lane appeared in a clear space, naked and wet, dripping...obviously, she had just been in the shower. Quickly, the reporter covered herself, one hand across her breasts, the other down between her legs. Blaze's heart and cock ached as she saw the slightest of swells to Lois Lane's stomach.

"Who...what...why...?"

"SILENCE!" Faust's voice filled the room with deafening noise. The sorcerer made a flinging gesture and Lois Lane's hands were drawn back, revealing her naked body...and the wooden table began to walk toward her, limbs moving unnaturally as though suddenly plastic. The sorcerer's made gaze settled on her, and Blaze saw her wife's lips move, but no sound came out. Back, back the reporter was pressed until her stomach was jutting out, feet flat on the floor, her palms flat on the table.

He gave a cackle that sent a chill down Blaze's spine.

"Yes...I think it well that both of you learn who is master here. You, demon, shall watch me vent my lusts on this sow...and then I will **** you to pleasure yourself, so that I may harvest your seed for my own purposes!"

Faust set down the book. He pulled aside the blue robes, and unwound the loincloth. A skinny, but impressively long and veiny cock stood forth, the purplish head somehow lumpy and deformed with dark, blue-black warts. Dangling beneath, hanging in a long, skinny scrotum were a pair of balls like hard marbles, the skin sagging like a rooster's comb. Lois Lane's eyes shot back and forth between his monstrous cock and her wife...and Blaze quivered in indecision, knowing she risked destruction if she so much as tested the binding he had her in.

"Look not to the demon to save you, Lois Lane," Faust said as he stroked himself to hardness. "By her name I have bound her, and the demon Blaze can no more escape than she can move the stars above. Now...it has been long since I knew a woman's touch...I hope I have not forgotten which hole to put it in..."

Blaze was shaking with fury. Her wife's eyes were on her, pleading, lips moving...

No. Not pleading. The brow was furrowed, the gaze piercing. Like her wife was trying to tell her something. Blaze felt her own lips move in time, even as the sorcerer rubbed his poxy prick against the reporter's exposed and helpless cunt, and then...Blaze's eyes widened.

She stepped out of the circle. One boot kicked a black candle, sending it skittering into the corner. He turned, a moment of confusion on his face. Power roiled in Blaze and her right leg felt like lead as she dragged it forward. The mystic anklet that bound her kept her from using her powers offensively, but she still could move...her hands could grab at the old man and wrap around his skinny neck. The dark eyes began to bulge in their sockets as he mouthed incantations he couldn't voice...and with a wrench of pure strength, the demon dragged him bodily over to the brazier.

His looked a question at her, before she **** his balls into the hot coals. Blaze grinned.

"When I got married a few weeks ago," the demon said. "I changed my name. I'm now and forevermore Angelica Blaze Lane."

Felix Faust could not scream as his testes descended into the brazier. But the skin blackened, the hair browned and crackled. Hot fat sputtered and smoked...and Blaze held him there, for long minutes after his eyes rolled back in his head, as his raging erection spat yellowed jizz over his belly, fountaining up over and over in one final gasp, the semen dribbling back down into the flames. Blaze held him there until she felt her wife's hands on her shoulder.

"I really hope that doesn't count against your parole," Lois said.

"Believe me," the demon smiled grimly. "That should count as community service."