Epilogue: What Happened To The Missing Women?

There was a secret room, behind the racks of bottles. Angelica Blaze waited until Lois Lane had gone home before she slipped inside. The dickgirl whistled softly to herself, cock limp but happy, with that slight burning sensation in the urethra that came from cumming too hard, too much, too often. She could still taste Lois's lips, from when the reporter had kissed her goodbye...with the promise of meeting her for another "date" tomorrow night.

There were just four little problems to take care of first.

Blaze turned on the light. The four women winced and tried to move away from it...but the chains wouldn't help them. The dickgirl sniffed and made a face. Even though she had provided chemical toilets within easy reach, there was still that sour smell of unwashed bodies. The four missing women stared up at Blaze, ball-gags in their mouths, eyes hollow.

They were naked, because the dickgirl had not allowed them clothing. There were scratches and bite marks, because they had fought her at first...and later, had come to accept her claws down their back and thighs, the little love-nips as she fucked them hard. Thinner than they had been, because Blaze often forgot to feed them...and when she did, liked to mix her cum into the canned dog food which was all the bitches were worth.

Some had suffered her attentions better than others. Diana Reynolds, the oldest, still stared at Blaze defiantly. Jenny and Mara had found comfort in each others arms, and more than once Blaze had caught them playing together. Tonya...the small Asian woman had the hardest time. Her pussy had been too small, too tight, to take the dickgirl at first. Vaginismus, Angelica thought they called it. Well, the demonic dickgirl had cured her of that, but the pain of the reshaping seemed to have broken something inside of her mind. She rarely ate, except when the others helped her, and spent hour after hour playing with her now much looser and more sensitive cunt.

"Ladies, it's been fun," she said. "But the thing is, I've met someone else. Someone wonderful."

Blaze sighed.

"Her confidence is stunning. So smart, so sensual—she knows what she wants and goes for it, is open to new experiences, forgiving of little...mistakes...honestly, I can't remember the last time I've met anyone like her," Angelica lifted her limp dick. "And look! She drained me! I've balled you bitches from dawn to dusk for weeks, and none of you have ever matched that. No, I think this one is something special, and I don't want to fuck it up. Which means that, as much fun as we've had, you all have to go."

Three of the women whimpered and cowered away as far as their shackles and collars would let them. All except for Tonya, who sat there mindlessly toying with herself. Blaze noted with approval that the Asian woman could get her whole fist in her cunny now.

"Don't worry...it'll be alright. You're going to pick up your lives right where you left them off, and you won't remember anything of our time together."

Blaze knelt before Diana Reynolds. The blonde flinched as the dickgirl grabbed her head and stared into those haunted eyes. "Let's see...I'm thinking a torrid little affair with an older man. He gave you a taste of BDSM...and maybe you liked it, and maybe you didn't, but you weren't ready to become his full-time ****. So you broke it off after a couple of weeks."

The woman's eyes grew wide...but they were turned inward as her brain rewrote the memories of the last few weeks. Hours of bondage sex filled the gap that had been Angelica Blaze in her memories. The demonic dickgirl took her time, cutting and splicing, weaving new images in with the old. There was a bit of resistance...but only a bit. Diana wanted to move on, and so she would.

There was a clap of thunder, and the blonde disappeared, to awaken on her bed, tired, sore, and probably with a few new kinks, but otherwise unharmed.

"Now for you two..." Blaze grabbed both of them together. In her right hand, Mara; in her left, Jenny. Their eyes were full of fear. Not just for themselves...but for each other. The dickgirl smiled. She could work with that.

"A drunken makeout at a bar led to a long tryst in a hotel room...impulse sent you down to Atlantic City...a lucky break with a slot machine...and you were so fascinated with one another, you didn't leave, not even to get food. Two weeks in bed, tasting and feeling each other every way, living off room service until the money was gone...but you'll always have those memories, and each other."

It was trickier with two...but Blaze could reuse many of the same images, since their memories were supposed to match. **** **** helped; there would be nights that neither women would remember clearly, details neither would be able to verify. They would remember the room number, but not the name of the hotel; the amount they had won, but not what casino. They were holding hands as Blaze finished the memory-editing, and she bent down to kiss both of them on the forehead.

"You were okay fucks," she said. "Not great, but okay."

Thunder clapped. Mara lived alone, so the women would awake in her bed.

Which only left...Tonya Wong.

Blaze took a deep breath. This one was more challenging. There was real trauma there, and the demon wasn't exactly good at healing. A part of her thought of just wiping the slate clean entirely...some sort of traffic accident, maybe...but then there would be hospital records to deal with. **** or an abusive boyfriend would attract the police. The demon's hands gripped the fragile-looking skull as the woman drooled around her gag, Tonya still mindlessly fisting her own cunt...

"Business major," Blaze said as she shifted through Tonya's memories. "You want to make money, don't you? But you didn't like sex. It always hurt, to get penetrated. You had read up about your condition...how some women used dilators to help themselves get used to it, stretch themselves out, little by little. Then you had the great idea of making a little money off of it?"

Blaze's hair rose as black sparks began to light up the air. A webcam setup was easy enough to arrange...move some money into Tonya's accounts...

"You didn't want anybody to know what you were doing. That's why you 'disappeared.' But of course you were right there the whole time, where your viewers could see you. My, how the donations flowed in. More for each bigger toy you could stuff in your tight little cunt. At first they hurt, but then they felt good...too good. You began to be addicted to the attention, the stretching. Weeks went by, and it was like you were obsessed...until you could first yourself...stuff yourself with inhuman dildos..."

The demon's eyes went pure white. There were sex toys of all shape and sizes in Tonya Wong's apartment now, extra soundproofing in the walls, high-speed internet...and not a clean pair of panties in the house. In her mind, Tonya realized she hadn't worn clothes for over a week, and had the cam on even in the shower...even when she went to the toilet...and the donations had rolled in...

Slowly, the fisting stopped. Something like clarity came back into Tonya's mind as the sensation of Blaze's cock was overwritten with sex toys of every size and shape...her bank account was now big enough to cover her entire college tuition...and her pussy was so loose she could take almost anything. Sex felt good now. There was no need to keep on cam.

"...unless you want to," Blaze said with a tired sigh. Thunder cracked. Tonya Wong would wake up in the morning, still impaled on the biggest dildo she had, still streaming.

Alone, the demonic dickgirl stood up and stretched. She twirled, black lightning bursting from her fingertips. Chains and chemical toilets disappeared into Metropolis' harbor; all the rancid stink of human occupation was cleaned away, and the secret room was bare. Angelica looked around at it with a trained eye.

"I wonder what Lois would think," she thought out loud. "About what we could put here. A couple of suspension mounts on the ceiling...maybe a whipping post..."

Her Mona Lisa smiled flickered into place. The possibilities were endless.