Epilogue: Troubled Mind

Three days. Lois Lane held off on calling Blaze again, but she knew she couldn't do so forever. Doubts plagued her in the quiet moments. She had douched after she got home...but not before she had sniffed the "cum" that Angelica had pumped inside of her. It had smelled...like the whiff of ammonia from a ripe cheese. Which should be impossible. Yet...

"There's something different about you, Lois," Clark Kent said. There was a slightly quizzical expression on his face.

Lois had smiled but said nothing. Every woman was allowed her secrets. Hers was the latex panties on underneath her knee-length skirt. The little plug inside her pussy that made her blush at odd moments, when she bent over to pick up a piece of paper from the floor, or sat down at the right angle. A little naughtiness in the workplace, but nothing that anyone should have noticed...except, of course, the ever-perceptive Clark Kent.

Clark didn't pry further.

By the end of the day, Lois still hadn't called her mistress. Couldn't sort out her thoughts.

Am I scared? She wondered. It was just a game, right? A sex game. That's what it is, right? Like watching a scary movie. You're not really in danger, your body just thinks you are. Some people get addicted to that...

There was a rose on the door to Lois Lane's apartment. Red. Fresh. A black strap wound between the thorns, tying it to the doorknob. The reporter carefully unwound the strap...

No. Not a strap. Black leather, carefully stitched, with a steel buckle.

A collar.

The reporter stepped inside. Sniffed the rose. Dropped her purse on the table and stepped into her bathroom. Brought her hands up and tied the collar around her neck. Looked at herself in the mirror.

A week ago, before that night out, Lois would have laughed. The collar was thin, flexible, and wide enough that it sat on her neck like a choker. Her heart skipped a beat. What was it that Blaze meant by this? It had to be Blaze, right? No one else would send her such a gift...if it was a gift...

The reporter nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang.

She checked the smartphone. Blaze's number. BLAZE as the name. Lois took a breath...and accepted the call.

"Sweetmeat," Blaze's voice was breathy in Lois's ear. "You got my gift?"

"Yes Mistress," Lois said. She looked at herself in the mirror. "I'm wearing it right now."

"That's good. I want to try something with you. Are you game, dear?"

Lois took a breath. She felt cagey. Trapped. Excited. "What did you have in mind?"

"Take off your clothes and lie on the bed."

Simple enough. Thoughts of dinner and email slid out of Lois Lane's mind as she quickly disrobed. She let her clothes hit the floor, everything except the latex panties, which she laid on the corner of her drawer.

Then her back was on the bed, on top of the comforter.

"I'm going to tell you how to touch yourself," Blaze said. "And you're going to do it. If you want to stop, use your safeword. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," Lois said, a little breathlessly.

"Good...now...I want you to pinch your right nipple. Just hard enough to hurt..."

Alone, in the dark, the smartphone pressed up against her ear, Lois Lane did as she was told. Her hands pinched and squeezed. Scratched and rubbed. She moaned so that her mistress could hear her. Sometimes she was asked to speak...to describe how she felt...

"Are you wet yet slut?"

"Yes, Mistress," Lois said. Her fingers were rubbing at her clit. "I'm so wet...I'm sitting in a puddle...I'm going to cum soon."

"Not yet, sweetmeat. Not until I give you permission."

"I don't..." Lois panted. "I don't know if I can hold out much longer."

"A little longer pet..."

Even while her fingers flicked her cunt-bean, Lois was aware of noises in the background. Angelica Blaze wasn't sitting at home in the dark. There were sounds of traffic...movement...Lois wondered where she was, where she was going, how many people heard her as she told Lois to taste the juices from her fingers, or to press against her asshole...

Then the door opened.

Lois Lane's heart stopped. She hadn't locked it when she came in! Immediately she sat up, the game forgotten, body in fight-or-flight mode...and Angelica Blaze was there, in sunglasses and a trenchcoat, a paper bag of hot takeout in her right hand, the phone pressed to her ear in her left.

"Sweetmeat," she said. "You stopped. Without permission."

The domme closed the door with her foot, and set the food on the table. She clicked off the phone.

"That deserves punishment, don't you think?"

The tall woman unbuttoned her trenchcoat and let it slip to the floor.

She was naked, beneath, except for elbow-length latex gloves, knee-high boots, and a familiar black strap-on that jutted out from her shaved crotch. Lois shuddered.

"Yes, Mistress," she said softly. "I deserve to be punished."

Bent over the bed. One hand on her lower back. The other came down on her ass in a flat plane. Smacking right at the swollen labia. Lois almost barked as pain flared through her. It didn't hurt much, but it was exciting...and she needed more...more...

"How many times have you masturbated since our last session?" Blaze asked.

SMACK. The reporter could feel her thin ass ripple from the blow.

"N-none Mistress!"

"Oh? You never thought of me late at night, reached between your legs, and fingered your beautiful cunt?"

SMACK.

"Aah! N-no, Mistress."

Latex-covered fingers pried the reporter's buttocks apart. Lois could feel the hard silicone shaft of the strap-on rub against her dripping twat. It felt so warm and alive.

"So you must be really **** for it, aren't you? Tell me, Lois. Tell me what you want."

"Your cock, Mistress," Lois said, and it was the truth. "PLease, I'm so close...fuck me with your cock!"

"You can beg better than that..." Blaze said...but Lois could hear the tremble of excitement in her mistress's voice, and it slid in without another word. Lois gasped in fulfillment at this new sensation.

"Rub your cunt," Blaze panted as she swiftly moved into a rhythm, her strap-on sliding easily in and out of the cunny. "Rub your cunt while I fuck you until you cum your little brains out!"

Lois reached under herself. One hand a blur on her clitty as that artificial cock plugged away at her hard and fast, Blaze's hips slammed into the reporter's buttocks, and the domme's free hand reached up and grabbed her hair, not to pull on it hard, but just enough for the reporter to feel it...

It wasn't long before they both were bucking, heaving, panting, squirting through their climaxes. Lois wasn't sure who had come first. But she knew her cunt spasmed around the cock, and hot wet juices splashed and dripped down her thighs, and when Lois sagged against the bed Angelica tore the strap-on off and turned Lois over, that hot mouth seeking out her neck, her breasts, her mouth in some urgent, burning need...and Angelica Blaze didn't stop until their lips locked together in a kiss of such passion that for a moment, Lois Lane almost forgot the sensation of something leaking out of her cunt.

Yet those troubled thoughts were there, in the back of her mind. There was dinner, and the rest of the pleasant evening of conversation and catching up, yet Lois knew she would squirm uncomfortably, dripping all over her apartment, unable to miss the ammonia-smell of fresh cum that came from her own pussy.