End: Lois Masters The Black Pearl

Humans are flawed, weak creatures. Lois Lane had seen it all in her years as an investigative reporter. The lies, cheating, addiction, moral failings. Men and women that did monstrous things which they blamed on everyone except themselves. Bloody-handed, lustful apes, given to greed and stupidity. It was easy for people to give in. They didn't need a devil to tempt them; left to their own devices, people would damn themselves.

Yet...there was strength there too. Lois had seen the daughters of whores from Suicide Slum grow up to earn doctorates from Metropolis University, pulling themselves up out of poverty. Had interviewed a **** victim who gave birth to the child of **** and refused to hate her daughter. Spoken with the first black wife of a white mayor in Metropolis, and how her quiet dignity in the face of threats to her life and marriage had persevered against the Ku Klux Klan.

They didn't break her, Lois thought. And this black pearl won't beat me!

It was the Daily PLanet's greatest reporter against an ancient demonic power that was merged with her body. Lois could feel her finger and toenails sharpen into claws. With a lurch, the muscular control of her crotch failed, and a black cock and balls tore free between her legs, her pussy shreds of dead, dry flesh on the altar. The dark tendrils sank out of sight, and the reporter's lean, muscular body took on a paler hue.

All this Lois could see and feel. Yet the true battle was in her mind. There were no more carnal memories to dredge through, no secret shams and desires. Lois felt empty, as though her whole being floated in a sea of darkness, rather than being held down on the altar by four braindead futanari zombie bitches.

Just her...and the pearl. Lois closed her eyes as the darkness closed in. The pounding pulse of the black pearl overwhelmed her heart now, her midsection of a furnace of sexual heat...with the slightest twice of her dick, Lois knew that she could send a spurt of black cum toward the ceiling, and her fall to darkness would be complete.

Yet she would not budge. In her mind's eye, she could see a dark mirror of herself...so close their lips could touch...

Give in, her own voice said, but Lois knew that was the pearl. The dark mirror to her soul. That was what Blaze wanted. Something that walked and looked and acted like Lois Lane, but was just a vessel for her own power.

At some spiritual level, Lois raised her arms and grabbed her dark reflection...and pulled it down into a terrible embrace. The black cock, dark as a piece of the night, pierced her doppelganger. Drove straight through her cunt as though to spear her heart on the head of it...and as those smoky limbs began to dissolve into her own, Lois Lane felt the terrible need that connected them.

Yet it was her need. Her desire. Her power.

On the altar the reporter grew still. Blaze ceased to caress the dickgirl reporter's swollen tits. Sensitive to psychic disturbances, the demon's hackles rose as the terrible spiritual turbulence within the reporter suddenly ceased.

Lois Lane opened her eyes. Two violet irises in seas of inky black.

With a single flex, Lois shook off the futazombies and bonds that held her. She sat up on the altar, and the fat-cocked scarlet succubus took a step back. Lois turned to her.

"You should have destroyed me when you had the chance," the reporter said. "You won't have another."

Blaze's brow furrowed between her horns. "No woman has ever mastered a black pearl!"

"It pleases me then," Lois said as she slid off the altar. "To be the first."

The reporter raised her hands...and Blaze's cock exploded. Shiny black spheres erupted from her body, expelled with such violent **** that they ruptured the dark flesh as they flew to Lois Lane's hands. Blaze sank to the ground, a torrent of black and red liquid pouring from her hole.

"Ladies," Lois said, and the four futazombies turned. Their cocks were hard, and dripping. They closed in on the fallen succubus, who struggled to rise. She had a new hole to play with.

Lois Lane heard the screams as she carried her dark treasures out of the crypt. Blaze, or what was left of her, would serve to entertain her former victims until Lois found some way to undo their transformation...and if she couldn't do that...well...

The reporter smiled. There were worse things in life than having four fat-cocked futanari slaves to do your bidding.

Not at all how Lois Lane or Blaze thought this night would end...one in triumph, the other in pain and degradation as her old sins came back to haunt her. For the night is old and full of magic, full of strange things and secrets...and Lois contemplated her new form, and the uses she might have for the black pearls...

That is another story.