The Stars Are Right

"One by one, I culled a cow from the herd," the horned woman said whispered. "I bled them dry, and each **** was woven into the pattern of power. With each sacrifice, my pattern grew, and stretched out over this city. This place is the web with which I sought to catch a very special fly...and here ye came, Lois Lane, and I knew my purpose would be fulfilled."

The blood red lips split into a gloating grin of white teeth. Red Hands idly pressed against the reporter's body, and left behind bloody red spirals and marks that looked almost like letters...but in no alphabet that Lois Lane knew. The horned woman stood, she lifted Lois up easily, and still keeping her crimson cock buried painfully in the reporter's pussy, set the reporter's ass on the edge of the nearest sink.

Something black and thick as tar oozed out around the cock, to run down the cleft to the reporter's ass and drip into the sink.

"Creatures such as myself cannot breed so easily. We require the correct conditions...the right seedbed. The stars must be right for our design, and the victim must walk willingly into danger...and so you have."

Red hands grabbed the reporter's face and Lois had to resist the urge to strike out at the monstrous woman-thing who had defiled her so...but she was cognizant that as long as the demon was talking, at least she wasn't hurting Lois...and Lois had been a victim too many times to interrupt a villain while they were monologuing and explaining their entire plan.

The thumbs pressed beneath Lois Lane's eyes. Nails like claws pressed, very lightly, into the reporter's lower eyelids. With less than a thought, the horned woman could gouge the violet orbs out, blind Lois forever...

"Goodness is thine, Lois. It radiates from you. I can taste it. Thou will not kill the darkness that incubates within you. The darkness that you shall birth into this world, a foothold for my conquest."

The scarlet face drew close, and Lois could smell the breath, sweet as carrion, hot as an open oven. The pure white eyes hurt to look at, as though they were windows into an infinite white space.

"Perhaps I shall grant you a boon. For do I not owe you a debt for all you do to me? Indeed...perhaps I do..."

The smile died. "Ask, Lois Lane. Ask a boon, and if it is not counter to my purpose I shall grant it, and all debts will be cleared."