Epilogue: You Can't Be My Girlfriend

When Lois Lane emerged from the bathroom, there was a cup on the table, and the naked succubus was pouring. The reporter tried not to stare at her unexpected and uninvited guest's erection. It was weird how completely normal it felt to sit down at her own kitchen table and have a naked dickgirl pour her a cup of java.

"Cream?" Blaze asked, and instinctively Lois stared at the erection, which now hovered just above the edge of the tabletop.

"No—I take it black." The reporter picked up her cup, breathed in the earthy aroma, and took a sip. Hot as sin and bitter as the gall of the devil. It burned through all the nighttime muck still clogging the reporter's throat and cleared her sinuses. She took another sip, and another, long and slow, giving it time to cool so as not to scald her mouth too badly. Blaze practically hovered neared the table, coffee pot in hand, as if waiting to refill the reporter's cup.

Time to rip off the bandaid, Lois decided.

"Look...Blaze. I don't know what this is. And I appreciate the cunnilingus and the coffee. Really. But that thing you were saying before about being my girlfriend? That's not happening. You can't be my girlfriend. Period. End of discussion."

The pure white eyes blinked. It was like the universe suddenly ceased to exist for a moment, two black voids where her eyes should be—and then there they were again.

"Why not?" She said haughtily.

"Because you're a demon!" Lois said, with a little more fierceness than she intended.

"Technically, I'm only half-demon. My father was human."

"Your—okay, I'm not sure that actually makes it any better. But you're evil! You're a villain!"

"I don't have to be a villain," Blaze said. "If I'm with you. Oh sure, I've done some villainous things in the past, but it's not like I've had a lot of moral guidance. I'm sure if I had a virtuous, intelligent, beautiful girlfriend to keep me on the righteous path—"

"Not your girlfriend, I'm not virtuous, and you're still evil!" Lois insisted.

Blaze set the coffee pot down and leaned over the table. The cock slid along the wood, pointed straight at Lois. The little piss-slit was Y-shaped, Lois saw now, and seemed to open wide, revealing little spikes or teeth along the urethra. She got the disconcerting sense it was staring at her.

"What is evil?" Blaze said. "What do you know about it? I wasn't like you, Lois. I was born damned, raised in Hell. I have had to lie, cheat, steal, and fight for everything in this life...and I have lived for a very, very long time. What I'm trying to say is..." The scarlet succubus was almost laying across the table now, so that she could stare Lois in the face, their eyes level, so close the reporter could smell her breath...the heady scent of her own pussy... "I can change. If I had somebody worth changing for."

There was something in the voice, a quaver that tugged at the reporter's heartstrings...and then she saw the demonic dick, dribbling precum on the middle of her kitchen table.

"No Blaze, it's not going to happen."

"Is it the horns?" The demon's expression changed instantly. "This is my true form, but if you want one more pleasing to you...bigger breasts, a bigger cock, more masculine, more feminine..."

There was a shimmer, as if the demon's very bones were trying to crawl around beneath her skin. The red skin paled to a healthy, almost ethereal pink; the horns rotated and flickered out of existence. Black hair shook and blanched, rewove itself...and little mole surfaced. In less time than it took Lois to draw a breath, Marilyn Monroe now lay atop her table.

Marilyn Monroe with a cock, Lois thought, as she took a sip of her coffee.

"Look, Blaze, I really don't know what your game is here, but whatever you're selling, I'm not buying," the reporter said firmly. "And stop looking like Marilyn, my dad used to jack off to her."

"Give me a chance!" Marilyn Monroe reversed herself, blood-red skin spreading across her face like a rash, hair turning black and wild once more. Only the cock was constant. "Go with me on ten dates!"

"No," Lois said.

"Five dates!" There was an edge of desperation.

"No!"

"One date!" Blaze was almost panting. "One date, and if I can't make you laugh or smile, I'll leave you alone forever!"

The reporter paused. In truth, she had no idea what Blaze's game was, but she knew the demon had to be superhumanly powerful...and she wanted something from Lois, though the reporter didn't know what yet. Turning her down completely wasn't working, but she had heard demons were bound by their promises.

"And what if I do smile or laugh?" Lois said, not budging an inch but trying to decide her options. In truth, as utterly pathetic as the demon was being, she had little doubt that the succubus who had gone down on her this morning was more than capable of gutting her like a fish with her cock if she so chose.

"Then you owe me another date," the demon said triumphantly.

The reporter chewed on that idea. "I want your word. One date. If I don't smile or laugh, you leave me alone forever."

"By my name, I swear it!"

Lois sighed. It really was good coffee. She took another sip. A part of her knew she was going to regret this. Probably the same part that was sore and drooling onto the chair between her legs.

"Fine. One date."