Epilogue: The Seed Is Planted

Lois Lane left the Black Door slightly bowlegged, with a wobbly gait and her dirty money.

And her bag of cocaine.

Angelica Blaze allowed herself a smile. Her features shifted, shuffling through all the guises of the evening. The quarterback faded into the lineman faded into the kicker. Big and tall, muscular and fat, black and white and Hispanic, and then back to a blood-red face that was her own. Lois Lane had been fucked by over fifty men tonight...and all of them were Blaze.

"Now I have you," she said to the empty room. In her mind's eye she watched the reporter climb the stairs, walk through the empty club. Hold her hand up against the light. Cradling the purse stuffed with money and ****.

There was the possibility that the reporter would simply flush the coke when she got home...but Blaze doubted it. She had seen the fire in the reporter's eyes, the eagerness with which she had taken the last hit. Even if Lois exerted that iron will and destroyed the ****, the game was already well underway, the seed planted.

Because she had succumbed once...and she would again. Slowly, achingly, Blaze would make the reporter hers and hers alone. As she was always meant to be.

Blaze followed the reporter in her mind's eyes in the cab ride back to her apartment. The long, shaky elevator ride, her body already starting to crash as the stimulants wore off. She would already be thinking of the baggie of ****, of going to work, even though her body was physically exhausted, barely able to stand.

The demon's cock hardened as she saw Lois strip off her clothes, place her purse on the sink, stumble into the shower. Wash the night off of her, though there were places deep inside that she would never reach. Blaze's dick ached, even after the endless fucking of tonight, which had strained her superhuman stamina to its limit. Patience was a virtue she had to cultivate over long centuries...the joys of delayed gratification.

Almost as an afterthought, Blaze turned her eye toward the reporter's stash of birth control. With a thought, the pills disappeared from their accustomed case, appeared in the demon's hand. She crushed them, letting the powder dribble on the floor. No, no pills, morning after or otherwise. Not for Lois Lane.

The smile on the demon's face grew as she saw the reporter towel off, look confusedly in her drawer...ah, but there were no pills there. Slowly, carefully, Lois pulled the bag of white powder out of her purse. Blaze's nostrils flared, the moment tense. What would she do? Would she flush the **** down the toilet? Turn her back on what she had done, or...

...carefully, Lois stuffed the bag in the very back of the drawer that had held her birth control, and shut it. Out of sight, but not out of mind. Lois turned from the bathroom and, completely naked, collapsed into bed. No work today. Only sleep.

"To sleep, perhaps to dream..." Blaze whispered to herself, and thought what dreams she might craft for Lois Lane. The long night out was over, but their fun was just beginning.