Lois Steals

Without warning, Lois lunged for the water. The reporter dragged it up to her lips and half-poured the icy liquid over herself in her desperation to drink it as quickly as possible, before anyone could snatch it away from her.

Except no one did.

It was only then, seconds later, as the cold liquid hit her stomach so heavily, burning its way down her parched throat, that it became apparent to her that no-one was actively trying to stop her from drinking, that Lois Lane noted the distinctly metallic tang of the water. Felt the creeping sensation of an ice-cream headache across her forehead. And, finally, set the mostly-empty jug down, panting for breath and shivering.

Angelica Blaze smiled.

"What?" Lois said, feeling suddenly unsteady on her feet.

"Oh, nothing," the demon carefully shifted her dress and stood up. "That's just an awful lot of vodka to drink so quickly."

The reporter blinked, suddenly woozy.

Vodka? How much did I drink...

"There are many kinds of drunk, Lois," the dickgirl said as she rose. Blaze offered Lois her left arm, and against her instincts, the reporter followed her better judgment and took it, the better to keep from staggering. "Some get sullen or mean. Quiet or garrulous..."

Horny. Lois thought, remembering shenanigans during her university days. More than one young woman, in the first bloom of her sexuality, that decided after three margaritas she was bisexual. Lois recalled grasping hands and unwanted kissed, drunken leers...and that was just the women's only events. Some of the parties with both sexes had seen a lot of **** flow and a lot of action...and some of them led to pregnancies, later on. The reporter didn't like to think about that.

"**** unlocks inhibitions. It's said the KGB used to inject almost pure **** into the veins of the people they interrogated, as a kind of truth syndrome. I do so like the truth. To see what people are really like, underneath it all."

Angelica steered Lois away from the table. The reporter, head hurting, unsteady on her feet, focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

"Where are we going?" She asked, determined not to stagger.

"To give you what you came here for," Blaze said. Her right hand patted Lois Lane's right arm where it rested on her own. "What kind of drunk are you, Lois?"