Epilogue: Thanks For All The Evidence

Lois Lane took a deep breath. Hobbled back to the freezer, where she kept her emergency bottle of vodka. Ice-cold Smirnoff took the edge off the pain. She put slid the bottle back into the freezer. A part of her dearly wanted to take a very hot, very long shower.

Except that would mean disposing of important evidence.

Instead, she went to her hiding place, where she kept her emergency smartphone, and the communicators for various members of the Justice League.

Her own voice felt leaden and tired in her ears. She had to explain things several times, in detail. Assuring noises answered her back. Still naked, Lois sat down on the edge of the bed, wondering how long she would have to wait.

It wasn't long. Within the hour, a glowing circle spun into existence, in front of the door to her bathroom. Lois watched the whirling golden sparks with numb interest...and out of it stepped a handful of costumed folk. Zatanna the magician, her long legs in fishnets, was resplendent in her tailcoat and tophat, white tie and white bustier emphasizing her breasts. The Batwoman and Batgirl came after her, dark of cape and red of hair. Supergirl followed, blonde and fresh-faced.

Lois managed a smile. She still thought of Batgirl and Supergirl as girls, though of course the young women were in college now.

The golden portal closed.

"Thank you for coming," Lois said. She stood up, her body aching.

Batwoman and Zatanna focused on the evidence on the table first. The dark knight detective dug items out of her utility belt, collecting fingerprints, stray hairs, manufacturer's date. The witch made odd gestures with her gloved hands, collecting more spectral evidence.

Batgirl took out a small camera, gave brief instructions. Lois raised her arms and legs. The camera flashed, chronicling her physical ****. Supergirl hovered...literally, flying an inch above the carpet...scanning the whole apartment with her piercing gaze. The reporter wondered what exactly she was looking for...more fingerprints, stray hairs. Maybe listening devices.

"Your phone is bugged," Batwoman announced from the kitchen. "Batman is checking to see who is tracing your phone records, credit cards."

Batgirl put the camera away and drew out a pair of latex gloves...plastic evidence bags...and long cotton swabs. She gave the reporter an apologetic look.

"Just do it," Lois said, tiredly.

The young woman was efficient. Down on her knees, running the swab over and then inside the reporter's labia. The gloves parted her cheeks, a dry ball of cotton gently forcing its way up her asshole, too small to be painful, but definitely disconcerting. There were a few other swabs...and then the evidence was sealed away, and Lois sat back down on the edge of the bed. She turned to look in the kitchen.

Batwoman had bagged and tagged everything on the tablet. Zatanna was frowning.

"There are no scrying or tracking spells...but there are demonic energies. Especially here," she pointed at the pills. She walked over to Lois as Supergirl, Batgirl, and Batwoman focused their attention on scouring the rest of the apartment. "You've ingested some of these pills, right? I'd like to do an exorcism. On you."

"Sure," Lois said, with a shrug. She could barely keep her eyes open.

Zatanna held up her hands and made a gesture, then murmured:

".niaga evoL. .niaga hguaL .niaga eviL."

The reporter shook herself uncontrollably. She couldn't say exactly what was different...there was no shower of golden sparks, no sudden cease of pain from her tired body. Yet suddenly the day seemed brighter, her heart lighter. Lois took in a deeper breath, her breasts pushing outward and falling...and she felt a little bit like herself once more.

"Thanks," Lois said, and meant it.

"You should stay here," Zatanna said. "Just until it's over. There's a chance someone might come for you, so...we'd like to leave someone to watch over you."

The reporter gave a slightly naughty smile. "I don't suppose Superman is doing anything on a Sunday?"

The women looked at each other...and as a one, they grinned.

"I think that might be arranged," Zatanna said at last.

They left the same way they had come, taking with them all the evidence that Blaze had so foolishly left behind. The naked reporter rubbed her arms. She wondered what it must be like to be a villain, and thinking that they could threaten and intimidate someone into doing what they will. To trap people with their own fear. Lois knew she had taken a chance calling her friends...but the choice that Angelica had left her had been **** at all. To surrender to her bimbomail would have been a prison, and those women would still be trapped, exploited, abused. No, better to take this opportunity to turn the tables.

Lois just hoped she had done the right thing.

She shower was very hot. Her softest loofa sponge slid over her abused pussy and ass. Scented soaps slid over her breasts, which still felt puffier than normal, as they sometimes did during her periods...but her ass felt a little puffy as well. The reporter ignored it, cleansing her body with a single-minded intensity. Before, she had been afraid to wash for fear of destroying essential evidence. Now, she worked to remove every trace of her night out from her body.

Inside as well as out.

The showerhead attachment was nonstandard. A slim, chromed steel rod with twenty small holes. Smooth and torpedo-shaped, and Lois lubed it up before she slid it into her aching puss. How many times had she enjoyed this sensation, the cool hard metal and the hot jets of water that almost burned against her pussy? Yet now, Lois wasn't masturbating. She was simply wiping away every trace of saliva, ****, of the accumulated filth of the night that despoiled her body...and after that, she did the same thing with her ass.

There was no one there to hear her cry out, as it slid into her puffy asshole. As the hot water scoured her poor, sensitive colon. As the water fell out of her, and she let scum and dirt swirl down the drain. By the time she cleaned the shower head herself, she felt weak...hungry...but strangely better. Cleansed.

Noise in the kitchen as Lois stepped from the steamy bathroom. Superman was at the kitchen table, the white boxes of Chinese food being laid out, along with plates, forks, glasses, a bottle of white wine...and Lois let the towel drop as she walked towards him, wet hair hanging over her shoulders.

"Lois..." he said.

The reporter smiled. She was exhausted. Hungry. But oddly, incomplete. She needed to wipe out the memory of last night. Needed...sexual healing.

Her hands came up to draw his face down into her own for the kiss. Pressed her warm body against his own. His hands grasped her then, crushed her close, and she felt the hardness of him press into her belly.

Which is when her stomach rumbled, loudly.

They broke the kiss to share a laugh.

"Maybe...after we eat?" He said.

"After," she promised.

Somewhere, the hunt had begun. Unseen, a noose tightened around Angelica Blaze, who congratulated herself on her cleverness in corrupting the Daily Planet's greatest reporter...and who had no idea, really, exactly what kind of hell was about to come crushing down on her head.