End: "Of Course! Think Of The Children!"

"I mean, I got you pregnant. What kind of a cad would I be to not marry you?" Blaze said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Believe me, I grew up in a single-parent household, and that is something I'd never want for my own spawn."

To Lois Lane, currently naked on an ice sheet in Antarctica with a crimson cock up her cunt, the conversation was a bit surreal. And critical.

"I...I mean if you wanted to knock me up and marry me, you could have asked. Earlier." Lois said. "Did you really have to go through the gambling-for-souls thing?"

The knocked-up reporter shifted around in the demon's lap. This felt like the kind of conversation that should happen face-to-face. If Superman was watching from his Fortress of Solitude, he could get a nice view of Lois Lane's ass, still slowly bouncing on that demonic dick.

"I..." Blaze paused to choose her words carefully. "If I had asked you before, you would have said no."

"Well...I mean...yeah, probably." Lois said. "You're a demon! You went around stealing souls! If I hadn't lost to you, I wouldn't...I wouldn't have fucked you. I wouldn't be pregnant."

"But you did, and now you are, and now we shall be wed!"

Lois shook her head.

"You can't just—well obviously you can, but it's really not a hallmark of a great marriage if you're tricking me into a shotgun wedding."

Blaze snorted. "What are you going to do, divorce me? I own your soul."

The reporter had to admit, her apparent fiance had at least a slight point. But she wasn't about to give up the argument that easily.

"You're making this out to be some sort of contrivance in a romantic comedy, but it's really no different than ****."

"Not at all!" Blaze said heatedly. "You consented to the games, didn't you?"

"Yes-s-s..." Lois had to admit.

"I did not make you stake your soul."

"My chips reflected your desires," Lois pointed out.

The demon frowned. "But you bet them. You knew what was at stake..."

"In a game you set up! The whole thing was a massive trap!" Lois insisted.

The reporter planted her ass down too hard, the tip of the dick stabbing so deep inside of her that she winced. Around them, the snow was melting. Lois couldn't even feel the wind. A couple of curious penguins were waddling toward them. The reporter waved her hand to shoo them off, but the heat Blaze was projecting was too enticing.

Blaze stuck out her lower lip. "I've come this close. I am not surrendering this pussy."

Lois Lane sighed. "I'm not saying we can't...make love. But if you admit that the whole game was a setup, I think you have to admit that it wasn't exactly fair and square. And if I were to marry you while you own my soul, that would be undue influence. Like the poor farmer's daughter **** into marrying the land baron who owns the mortgage to the family farm."

Even as she said it, Lois realized she had just babbled off the plot of her favorite romance novel. She hoped her blush would be taken as a sign of sexual stimulation and not embarrassment. The scarlet succubus tossed her head back into the half-melted snow. One of the penguins waddled closer, though it stayed out of reach of her horns. The demon licked her lips.

"Are you hungry?"

Lois Lane's stomach growled. "Don't change the subject!"

Blaze sighed. "Fine! So the game was...a bit of a setup. So what do you propose?"

The reporter sniffed. "I want my soul back. If I were to marry you, I have to be free of any supernatural influence."

"And in exchange, I get what?" The demon asked.

"Pussy privileges," the reporter said after a minute's deliberation. "We can be friends. With benefits. Go on dates. Get to know each other. In time, if we grow...fonder of each other's company...maybe we can formalize things."

The demon raised her head. "I don't want the children to be born out of wedlock. I would at least insist that we be formally engaged to be married. I don't mind...wooing you...for the duration of the pregnancy, but we should at least set a date. Six months, perhaps?"

Lois sighed. It wasn't like she was in much of a position to negotiate. If Blaze was willing to give the reporter her soul back _and _six months, it would at least give the reporter time to think...maybe consult a lawyer, or a demonologist, and see if she had any other options. And at least it was better to be pregnant _and _have a fiance than to be knocked up and single.

"Fine. Six months. It's a deal."

A shadow passed overhead. Red boots crunched into snow. Lois Lane and Blaze turned to look a familiar figure, red cape blowing in the wind. He reached down to pet a penguin on the head.

"What am I looking at here?" Superman asked.

Blaze looked a question at Lois Lane. The reporter sighed.

"Superman...I'd like you to meet my fiance. We were just...celebrating our engagement." Lois paused. "Also, I'm pregnant."

One perfect eyebrow rose. "That's a lot to take in. Are you sure about this Lois?"

The reporter put out her hands to grope Blaze's tits.

"As weird as it sounds," Lois Lane said. "I think it might be for the best."