Drag Lois To Hell

Struggle though she may, Lois Lane could barely squirm in the grip of the python-like grip of the slick, slimy tentacles. Cock filled her throat, squirmed in her pussy and ass, bound her ankles and thighs tight together. Every movement only seemed to send them deeper inside her stuffed holes, to bind her tighter in their overlapping coils.

Face it Lane, Lois thought to herself as she **** herself to relax. You're fucked.

Then she felt the tugging.

Slowly, the tentacles were constricting and pulling on her whole body. Back toward the glowing portal. Light and heat spilled out, brighter than before, and Lois felt the sweat bead on every free bit of skin that wasn't wrapped in cock-tipped tentacle. The smell was overwhelming...like being gagged by some teenager's cum-rag. She could taste the salty precum being secreted by the cock-tipped monstrosity in her throat, the slime on its shaft thick as jelly.

A shiver of fear ran through Lois as she realized she was being dragged toward the portal. From where the tentacles came from.

Hell.

She had never really believed in hell. All those sermons at church, reading the Bible as a little girl—it had never seemed a real place. A fairy tale, someplace made up by parents to threaten their children with. Don't sin, or you'll go to hell. Pull your sister's hair and you're grounded. Remember to brush your teeth and eat your vegetables. Even in a world where she knew, logically, that magic and the supernatural existed...Superman had fought demons!...it had just never seemed...real.

Until she heard the screams.

They were distorted, and faint, as though far away and heard through the crackle of a roaring fire. The heat from the portal was like putting her feet in an open oven, the top half of her sweating while the bottom half of her cooked. But they were screams of pain, and as her toes slipped through the glowing hole in space that was the portal, Lois found herself squirming again, not caring at the tentacles penetrating her mouth and ass. She didn't want to go there, she didn't want to go to hell.

But it was too little, too late. She thrashed, abs constricting, the tentacles coiling tighter and tighter. Unable to scream because of the cock in her throat. Barely able to move, to breathe. Inch by inch they phallic tentacles dragged her throat, and she could feel the heat creep up her body as more and more of her were drawn into that portal, whose color suddenly seemed to shift to a lambent, neon-red...

The last thing she saw, as her head and hair slipped through, was the page of the book as it closed above her.