Lois Lane's Interest In Superman Is Replaced By An Interest In Blaze's Pussy

Something flowed down the mystic cords that bound Lois Lane and Blaze, body and soul. Not information, exactly, nor even energy or essence. Blaze had not crafted the spell to knowingly taint the reporter or share any of her power. Yet to work, the spell had to tap into both their minds and auras, to let their feelings and emotions bleed into one another....and the longer and more intense their bond grew, the more and more that bled out into other aspects of their characters.

Focused as she was on the crimson cunt gripping her cock, Lois Lane did not even notice as her interest in Superman began to wane. The torch for him that she had carried in her heart of hearts for so long began, slowly but surely, to sputter out. The lingering guilt she had felt, the sense of betrayal, the regrets and self-recriminations she had buried all night began to dissolve in her ****.

In their place flowed a new and more immediate interest. Lois panted as she found herself gripping Blaze's hips harder. The puffy pink nipples of the demon danced in ways that fascinated the reporter. The way Blaze threw back her head and shook her long black locks, the sparks that danced on those horns every time Blaze bottomed out on her prick, the soft moan that made Lois Lane's heart flutter every time the reporter's thumb brushed against Blaze's clit...a thousand new sensations filled Lois Lane's mind, and each one slowly burned out the desires for Superman that had dominated her life for so long.

Yet it was a two-way link. As ardor burned in Lois Lane's soul, so too did something of the Daily Planet's greatest reporter begin to seep into the dark abyss that was Blaze's spirit. Curiosity, insatiable and implacable, began to make itself known. Blaze's pure white eyes roamed over the reporter's body, drinking in every detail of her soft skin, of the slight bags under the eyes from not enough sleep, the white teeth that could use a visit to the dentist...and more than that she was aware how the layer of dust on parts of the apartment, the hamper of unwashed laundry, the disorganized bookcase. Demonic intellect worked on this data in ways it never would before...asked questions and answered them.

Lois Lane, Blaze determined, was married to her work. Too crusading and distracted to take care of herself and her living space. A bachelorette...who needed someone to look after her.

Blaze's slow, knowing half-smile spread a little wider as plans for conquering the Earth and having her **** on the Kryptonian gave way to the more burning question of how she could best worm her way into Lois Lane's life.

After all, the demon rationalized to herself. If this cock is going to service me, I might as well keep it strong and healthy.