End: Blaze Gets Harder Than Before

It must have been some sixth sense that made the reporter turn her head.

A cock, no matter how tall and hard, cannot loom. Yet as Lois Lane stared at the towering erection that stood out from Angelica Blaze's body, she was aware that in the dim light, it seemed like it did. The swollen, rubbery head looked ready to explode, and the whole shaft was ruddy and flushed with blood. Even though Blaze had just cum a couple minutes ago, the size and stiffness of the erect prick made Lois to freeze.

It was a monster of a prick. Harder than before. And as the piss trickled out of her urethra, Lois could feel that Blaze's entire body was stiff, tense, on the edge and about to go careening over...and all the anger and frustration in Lois Lane's mind shifted suddenly into a new and carnal line of thought. She was curious to see how far that she could push Blaze.

"You dirty bitch," Lois said with awe. "You're getting off on this, aren't you?"

Blaze's lips remained sealed, even as cum and urine oozed out of the reporter's pussy...but the eyes had rolled up into her head, so that only the whites showed.

"I can't believe I might have gotten knocked up but some big-dicked slut with a piss fetish," Lois said, and the reporter watched Blaze's face carefully as she said each word, hyperaware of every flicker of emotion as she found exactly what buttons to push.

"Was this your plan all along?" Lois said as she began to rub her leaking cunny against Blaze's face, smearing the dickgirl's jizz all over her, quivering with need as her bladder slowly let go. "Did you just want to get me pregnant so I could squat over you and use you as my personal urinal? Is that what gets you hot? The idea of a woman with a big pregnant belly and leaky tits who pisses in your face?"

They say curiosity killed the cat. Lois Lane, lost in her moment of play, turned on more than she wanted to admit, was utterly unprepared as the slim young dickgirl finally reached her breaking point. With superhuman speed and strength, Blaze lifted the reporter up. Lois had one brief moment or realization that something was wrong when she felt that swollen cock against her sticky snatch—saw that Blaze's white eyes burned from within, glowing with their own white light—and then the hips slammed up and impaled the reporter on that pillar of fuckmeat with such **** that it made Lois Lane gasp.

The rest of Lois Lane's night out was a blur. Lois Lane remembered scrabbling in the dark. The endless, tireless pounding. The way her bladder finally let go, even as the dickgirl's cock stretched her sore slit to the breaking point, and how that only made Blaze laugh darkly and grope her breasts. The strength and speed of the dickgirl were inhuman and inescapable, the endurance and stamina simply unbelievable. Lois couldn't even tell how many ropes of virile jizz flooded her cunt. Couldn't count how many orgasms were coaxed out of her exhausted body. She only knew that her voice grew hoarse from all the cries of pleasure coaxed out of her. That exhaustion overwhelmed fear and shame and horror.

It must have been in the early hours before dawn that Blaze began to whisper. All the things she had planned for Lois Lane. All the things she wanted to do to her. Centuries of pent-up kink had been unleashed, as surely as if Lois Lane had taken a saber to a bottle of champagne, and Blaze—that monster—had fixated on the reporter as the subject of all the dark fantasies.

Dawn found Lois naked, covered in cum, wet thighs clammy with cold piss, dumped contemptuously on her own bed in her own apartment. The reporter was only half-conscious as Blaze rubbed her cockhead across the reporter's face, like an artist signing their work. All human form had been abandoned, and Lois saw the dickgirl now for who and what she was. Dark horns curled back from that broad vow, and the skin was red as fresh blood on parchment. Supernaturally lean, all muscle and gristle, thin and feminine except for that monstrous crimson cock. The reporter was too tired to even resist. Her pussy ached, her urethra burned, and she felt utterly soiled, inside and out.

"If you haven't caught tonight, you will soon," Blaze whispered. "Keep hydrated, Lois. I expect a golden shower over my cock as I fuck that tight twat!"

The demon laughed...and faded, like a shadow melting away as dawn's light marked the end of Lois Lane's night out.

Yet Lois knew she would return. The reporter's curiosity had pushed her too far this time...and her pussy had paid the price.