As Many Times As I Can

The answer was dragged out of Lois slowly. She fought every syllable of every word, but whatever magic bound them made her lips form the words—and the reporter shivered on her demonic lover's cock because she knew it was true.

Blaze smiled. Not a leer or grin, but a tight-lipped knowing smile, relaxed and self-satisfied. The smile a cat might give when the mouse realized it was trapped. Seeing that smile, warm, stupid tears came to Lois Lane's eyes. The succubus kissed them away.

"No tears, darling. Not between us. I'm sure you will be an excellent mother...to all of our hellspawn."

Lois set her jaw, a bright flash of anger cutting through her self-pity.

"I might be knocked up now," she said. "But if you think I'm going to let you impregnate me again..."

"Now, that is up to you." Blaze smile widened, showing teeth. "After all, you still have one final question to ask me. And you know the power of this binding now. So think very carefully—both about the here and now, and the future."

The shemale succubus laid a hand on Lois Lane's belly. The demon's cock, still hard, throbbed inside the reporter's cunt, the head just distending the flesh above her mons. Blaze's hand touched that spot, against where her own prick pressed against the human woman's sensitive walls.

"Think, for a moment. The women you came here to find? Free. Yourself? In my lap, having experienced something most mortal women never will, and now bearing a child."

She leaned her face in, until they were cheek to cheek. The devil's lips just brushed the reporter's right ear. "Think what would be best for you. You could, with that final wish, ask me to abort the zygote within your body—or, you could ask what it would be like to experience that same pleasure again...and again...to fully experience your life as a woman. Beautiful and fertile, sexually satisfied and fulfilled..."

Lois could feel the words sink into her, and there was truth in them. Blaze was laying her cards on the table. The reporter contemplated her last question...and the warm wetness flowing from her still-stuffed slit, the certain knowledge of the fertilized egg drifting into her womb...the promise of life...

I can't just make a lifechanging decision just based on how good my pussy feels! The reporter told herself. Can I?