Kiss My Ass!

The words came out as a growl. Something broke inside of Lois Lane, some inner reservoir of dignity had been drained, and all that left was not meek acceptance and pitiful lust, but rage and rebellion.

"You sick bitch! Did you really think you can tease me until I'm broken and begging you to fuck my ass?" Lois said, struggling against the spells that held her in place. Her ass burned in agitation, the tattoos and piercings that decorated her body disgusted her. Her will, wild and unfocused, raged against the compulsion that had kept her captive, powerless to resist the sorceress' machinations. "When I get out of here I'm going to break my foot off in your cunt and take a pair of bolt cutters to your tits!"

Circe let the reporter rage. With infinite patience, she finished her work on the reporter's scalp...the control-sigil that would bind the reporter as her familiar, even further under her control. Struggle as she might, Circe's enchantments were old and powerful.

Holding her hands out over the bloody scalp, Circe whispered words...and hair-thin strands of green fire filtered down, like the strings of a puppeteer. Sinking through the interstices of her pattern. Into the reporter's living brain. Lois Lane's diatribe died down as the green lines of power touched certain points in her brain. With the merest thought, the reporter's whole body seemed to contract. Every muscle seized at once, her eyes rolled up in her head. Nipples instantly erect, pussy gushing. A climax so sudden and intense that the reporter had no defense against it...she couldn't even think...

...and when it finally ended, all the fight had been drained out of Lois, and she lay gasping, covered in sweat, half-deflated on the chair, body still shaking with the aftermath. Every sense seemed painfully acute, and her pale body had bronzed beneath the sun unnaturally quickly, the dark erotic tattoos standing out from the tanned flesh. Gulping in air, her disordered mind strove to recapture that flame of rebellion...to do or say something.

"That's better," Circe said. With a gesture, the black hair on the reporter's head began to regrow. The green lines of power slipped off of her fingers and coiled inside the reporter's brain, anchored now in that sigil. There would be no escape for Lois now. "Now, my dear, rage as you will, but you are my creature. And I say..."

Circe's mouth twisted in a grin. "Kiss my ass."