Binding Blaze

It took some googling, and calling in a few favors. The hardest had been very discreet phone call to Zatanna, asking for something specific with the promise that the witch not ask her why. The magician had been hesitant, but Lois remembered the "rabbit-out-of-the-bush" trick from the JLA girl's night out—and that was one act that Zatanna was **** to forget.

So within half an hour, the fat-cocked demon still blissfully slumbering on her bed, Lois Lane got a series of texts from some magician in London with very specific instructions...

Bondage was not one of Lois Lane's pet kinks. Oh, she liked leather and latex as much as the next woman...and wasn't against a bit of spanking in the heat of the moment. Lois had spent a little too much time as a reporter trussed up and waiting for Superman to rescue her to be particularly turned on by getting tied up.

That didn't mean she didn't know how to do it. If you spend more than a small portion of your life tied up, the first thing you learn is how to slip out of a knot, for your circulation if nothing else. Her interest in binding had been strictly practical...and so it was again. Although without rope or bungee cords, she was **** to dig in her closet for belts, sashes, neckties...

Blaze awoke just a fraction of a second after Lois Lane had applied the last of the binding sigils, in black lipstick. Her white-on-white eyes flew open, some supernatural instinct telling her that life had just gone very, very wrong.

The demon was tied to the bed, sashes and ties and belts strapping each wrist and ankle to one of the posters, with a fifth tied in a knot around the veiny cock and a sixth, wrapped around a pair of Lois Lane's panties, acting as a gag. Binding sigils had been painted on each post, on each tie and sash, on Blaze's breasts and belly and thighs, on each cheek and on her forehead. Lois smiled softly as the demon woke and immediately tried to struggle...

The sigils flared once, the demon's body convulsing as though an electric current were passing through it, and then she lay slack.

The reporter leaned in, fingers grasping the heavy testicles, hefting them gently.

"We're going to talk about things, Blaze. What you've done with the women, and how to turn them back. What other activities you've been up to, and how to fix all that. I'm going to call in a couple of superheroes and have them sort you inside and out. Maybe they'll deport you back to hell or send you to prison or just lock you in a bottle for a thousand years. But before all that happens..."

Lois Lane ran her tongue over the swollen head of the demon's dick, thrilling at the slight tingle of the precum on her tongue.

"...I'm going to wring you dry."

And for the very first time, the reporter saw the demon's eyes widen in something like fear.