Epilogue: The Effects Are Mostly Temporary

Lois Lane didn't remember much about that night. She remembered waking up in her bad the morning after, a warm body curled around her own...and the reporter had stayed there, like that, with Angie's arms around her and those small breasts pressed into her back, until the demonic dickgirl's morning wood had risen up between her thighs. The warm heat pressed against her pussy lips, not penetrating but hard and smooth between her legs.

Not daring to move much for fear of waking her lover, Lois had pressed her thighs tight around that scarlet shaft and moved her lower body, just an inch or so, back and forth. Felt the heat of the friction on her thighs...and her cunny....wetter now than it normally was in the mornings, and there was an itch inside she couldn't scratch, but if Angelica Blaze could just stay hard long enough, the head of her dick was hitting the reporter's clit at just the right angle...

It was a quiet climax. Lois arched her back and didn't even allow a moan to pass her lips. Just a silent breath of relief as her thighs clamped and quivered. Lois lay panting in Angie's arms, fully awake and energized now. There was nothing of the hangover she expected, and though her memories of the club, and the club-beneath-the-club were dim, she recalled meeting the missing women who worked behind the Black Door...and inviting Angie back to her apartment, which is something that Lois never did.

Her fingers moved down to play with the swollen head of Angie's cock. Lois could almost feel the cum from last night inside of her. She knew she'd have to do something about that...got to the pharmacy, get a morning after pill. Somehow she didn't mind at all that her lover of the evening had turned out to be an hermaphroditic demon, but she wasn't in the right place in life to have kids. Not yet, anyway.

The pad of the reporter's index finger ran over the urethra. Swollen as the glans was, almost rubbery in texture, it was still flesh, still deformed to her touch. The reporter knew that she should feel some guilt or something at sleeping with Blaze...sure, she wasn't with Superman, but Lois and the Kryptonian had been dancing around the subject for what felt like decades. Yet she felt...content. Happy. Well fucked.

The lips of Blaze's urethra parted as Lois applied a bit more pressure. The small sperm-hole opened to admit her finger as she kept pressing down. In her slip, the demon moaned as Lois Lane began to slowly finger-fuck the scarlet succubus' urethra...and Lois smiled in devilish curiosity.

"That's it, babe," Lois whispered softly. "Show me you can take it."

There were no outward signs of Lois Lane's corruption. No more of the crude words, no horns or glowing eyes. Such effects are mostly temporary. Yet inside her mind and soul, though she knew it not, the taint of Blaze had taken root...and Lois Lane's life would never be the same.