A Fertility Charm

"Blaze is bound by the contract she made," Lois Lane said flatly. "So I need Lana to impregnate me. Tonight. I need your strongest, fastest, most sure-fire fertility charm. Just, hit me with your best shot. No pussy-footing around. I need to get knocked up so fast and so hard that Blaze can't wiggle out of it. Just instant preggo. Whatever it takes."

The words tumbled out of the reporter's mouth...and beside her, Lana Lang's mouth slowly dropped open, her cock twitching slightly as she imagined Lois pregnant...very pregnant...

The golden mask of Morgaine le Fay stared out from the mirror for a moment...and then inclined in the subtlest of nods.

An arm, fully covered in royal purple but impossibly thin, the hand covered in a golden gauntlet of impossible delicacy, extended threw the mirror. From it dangled a small, stone object—the impossibly crude form of a fat woman with ponderous breasts and swollen belly—hanging from a necklace of fine silver links. Then, to the reporter's surprise, the other arm extended out, the golden-masked face leaning out of the mirror as she handed a different charm to Lana Lang—this one a simple stone phallus on a silver chain.

"Put these on, the both of you," Morgaine le Fay said, the voice louder. "The demon has sought to trick you, as is her way. The children you would have borne would have been hers. Yet I am older and wiser than Blaze—and my boons come with their own prices. For now—mate, and seal your contract. When your business with Blaze is done, I will name my price."

The arms withdrew. The image in the mirror faded...and then Lois and Lana were alone.

"So...we just put these on and fuck?" Lana said. She looked around the bathroom. "All this talk of magic and demons...I'm going to have to go to church and pray really hard for forgiveness this Sunday."

Lois smiled, nodded, and slipped the silver chain over her own head, letting the stone figure nestle between her breasts. Lana Lang swallowed, clearly uncomfortable but excited as she slipped on her own talisman.

"Okay, let's go into the stall for a little priva—aagh!" Lois Lane doubled-over mid-sentence as a sudden cramp seized all the muscles between her breasts and knees. It wasn't pain as much as shock that struck Lois. The stone idol pressed hard against her sternum, as if magnetized there. The reporter could barely breathe...and she wasn't sure, at that moment, if it was her heart that was pounding or if the fertility charm itself throbbed and pulsed with some unseen power.

Then her pants exploded.

The reporter barely felt a moment of inexplicable pressure, and then the tight red pants burst at the seems, unable to accommodate the sudden swell of her hips. Lois staggered forward a step to the nearest stall and laid her arms against the doorframe. She could not see what she looked like from behind...her ass swelling and hips and thighs rounding out, her pussy now a hairy thicket, the mons dripping and visible from behind. Nor could she see what was happening to Lana Lang.

The redhead fell to her knees as the cock went instantly erect. Frozen in place by powers she could not name, the dickgirl saw the crimson color fade from her mammoth erection. Red, demonic flesh replaced by something that matched her own skin color. Dotted with freckles. Bigger and heavier than before. Lana let out a low hiss of pain as her body throbbed and shifted inside. The swollen cock was fifteen inches long now...it stood out from her body like her forearm, the purple head almost as big as her clenched fist...and some magnetic **** gripped her head and guided her eyes to her target.

Lana Lang rose as if the cock itself was guiding her. Her first steps were stiff, mechanical. Lois Lane was still half-bent over, recovering as the cramp slowly faded. Neither woman nor dickgirl knew what the paired charms were doing to them internally...the subtler changes to anatomy and biochemistry, the subtle interplay and communication as their body cycles synched together for one glorious purpose. Yet Lois Lane felt it as the head of that cock pushed into her sopping cunt...and the first thrust against that big ass sent her against the wall of the stall, bent over the toilet, howling like a wounded beast as the cock stabbed in long and hard and deep...

There were no words between them. No thought. Sheer animal need drove them, panting and sweating, grunting and rutting. Lana Lang clung onto Lois Lane's hips as if her life depended on it...and Lois pushed back, swallowing that impossible shaft with her cavernous cunt as if no other key would ever fit that lock. Something moved within them; and they knew that they were part of something much bigger and older than themselves. The ancient, primal rhythms of life, the **** need that had pushed the species on, one groaning, aching explosion of jizz into a cunt after another. They fucked as if the world might end, and if it did then new life would be born from between their legs, to start the whole cycle anew.

The demon sighed as, five minutes later, the terms of her contract were met. Very quietly, she released the hold she had on the missing women, and began to pack up her affairs here. She could feel the god-like forces unleashed in the filthy bathroom far above, and grimaced as she realized that she had been outplayed...but she was philosophical about these things. There would be other games to play, with other women.

By the time dawn came, and the club was deserted and silent except for the clap-clap-clap of wet flesh-on-flesh from the bathroom, Lois Lane already looked pregnant. The sweat-drenched redhead cradled Lois Lane's slight potbelly. Grunted a strangled cry as the last burst of jism splashed against the entrance to the reporter's womb...and then the mighty cock, slipped out of the gaping fucktunnel, to hang limply earthwards. A torrent of jizz splashed from Lois Lane's swollen slit, into the overflowing toilet below.

"I...I think...we did it..." Lana managed.

"I...hope...so," Lois panted, "Because my...pussy...is...numb..."

Arm in arm, half-undressed, the pair slowly exited the stall. They had to lean on each other for support...not that either minded. Hours of magically-charged sex had forged a bond far past the point of mere fuckbuddies; a spiritual union had been achieved that, though neither knew it at the time, would bind them together for life...and perhaps beyond.

There only remained the question of Morgaine le Fay's price.