Epilogue: Prick Us, Do We Not Bleed?

"Ow. Ow. Ow. OW!" Lois Lane said. The reporter was on her hands and knees at a local motel, Rose's magically-enhanced dick plowing her ass. The muscular and tall dickgirl was using the reporter's upper back and head as a bookrest, paging through the grimoire as her cock plunged in and out of the reporter's anus.

"Quit squirming!" Rose growled. "I'm trying to read!"

"It hurts!" Lois protested. "Like, really hurts! Can you just stop fucking me for a minute."

Rose looked down. There was a crimson smear on her cock.

"You are bleeding a little. Probably an anal fissure. Let me finish right quick."

"I'm bleeding? What fu-OW!"

Huge, strong hands clamped onto either side of the reporter's ass. Rose's hips became a blur of moment, and Lois stuffed her face into the pillow to scream. The pain inside her ass was like nothing she'd ever experienced. Far beyond the pleasant burn she'd come to associate with anal sex, this was like being stabbed in the ass with a knife, or at least that was as close as the reporter could get to describe the sensation of the sharp, splitting pain which got worse and worse the more that Rose's thorn thrust in and out of her abused hole...and just went Lois thought she would vomit from the pain, Rose began to grunt, and the reporter tensed as liquid, salty nut poured into the open wound.

The dickgirl pulled out with a grunt, leaving Lois Lane facedown on the bed, her bloody, gaping asshole in the air. White jizz, turning pink as it mixed with blood, oozed from the red-rimmed anus.

"I'll get some toilet paper," Rose said, wandering off to the bathroom. "Right after I wash the blood off my dick."

Rose disappeared into the bathroom...and carefully, Lois took the book off her head. She had hoped that the spell would help solve some of Rose's problems, to make her life better, but the reporter now saw that Rose was nothing but a pain in her ass. Literally.

The dickgirl returned, handing Lois a wad of toilet tissue, which the reporter carefully dabbed at her bloody asshole. Rose, utterly unconcerned, plopped down on the bed and closed her eyes. Within moments, she was asleep, breathing regular...and then she began to snore.

In too much pain to sleep, Lois flicked through the spells. Most of them weren't relevant to this situation—Lois had no desire to summon a demon, or open a portal to hell, or send her astral self out among the subtle realms—but then she found a particular passage, on how a witch might steal a penis. The reporter read through the spell quickly, noting that it required as ingredients both blood and some of the target's vital fluid...and Lois grinned as she had both, immediately at hand. Speaking softly so as not to wake her "friend," she chanted out the Latin invocation:

Da mihi socius eorum, quia non merentur
Magna mihi fuit cum poena intulerint
Obsecro te de hoc beneficium, una infernalis Aestuo
Obsecro te de hoc beneficium, una pulchrae Aestuo
Obsecro te de hoc beneficium, una fortissimorum Aestuo
Et redde pretio tuo.

Pain flared inside the reporter's ass...not the stabbing pain as before, but a physical heat. She smelled smoke, and felt a terrible breath seem to pass out of aching asshole, as though she had passed gas...but the same moment, she felt a heavy weight dangle from between her legs, the reporter saw a heavy and familiar prick hanging there. A glance at Rose showed only a pussy between her legs. As if Rose had never had a cock.

The reporter eased herself off the bed, the book in hand. A bloody circle was left on the sheets, where Lois had sat for only a moment. Wincing, the reporter began to dress. She didn't want to be here when Rose woke up...just as she didn't want to think what the cost for this particular spell would be.