End: Getting Knocked Up

The demon's knee sat on the edge of the chair. The reporter's lower body slid forward, the plump pussy pressed against the hard patella. Lois groaned and moaned like an animal as she writhed, the demon easily holding the arms apart, watching the tits, swollen to four times their normal size, shake. Sweat dripped down Lois Lane's new cleavage, ran down the cum-gutters of her well-defined abs. Not a perfect bimbo. Not yet. But definitely a horny little fuckpet well on her way.

"The effect plateaus. Tolerance builds up. It takes more and more of the **** to drive your IQ down into the ground. Of course, by that time your tits and ass will already be bigger than they were without any pills. Some permanent, low-level brain damage., which grows progressively worse over the weeks...months. Some women will try to stop at that point. To at least manage their addictions. Women who were smart beforehand will work out little systems, minimize their intake to prevent the worst of the withdrawal systems, maybe try to wean themselves off."

Lois wasn't listening. She had slunk down in the chair, her knees almost at a 90-degree angle, grinding her clit against the demon's knee.

"But that's the thing about a bimbo ****. They forget things. Miss connections. They fuck up. Forget to take their birth control, or to buy condoms. And they're fucking like minks in heat, all the time. They can't help themselves. Even if they prefer women, it doesn't matter if you're straight or gay. Every hole is a goal, every pole is fair game. Some women turn to sex work—balance, again. Pay for their dirty little habit and get fucked at the same time? That will feel smart at first. But that just means they'll fuck up sooner or later. Take an unprotected load in their cunt. Then another, and another. Then it's just a matter of time."

The reporter's eyes rolled, thighs straining as she mashed her cunny against Blaze's knee. Humping it hard. Her were so taut and erect they looked ready to explode.

"It takes a while of course. Some couples take months, years to conceive. But by that point, most women are so far gone, even if they think they've been careful, that they won't notice when they miss a period...then two...but the thing about the pregnancy is, the hormones change how a woman's body reacts to the ****. The tits don't swell like they used to, but they get bigger and saggier. The hips get wider, thighs thicker. You've heard of pregnancy brain? Cancels out the worst of the intelligence drop. Oh, you'll still be forgetful, but as the tolerance builds, you're going to wake up suddenly, about six or seven months in, to find that you're pregnant with huge, leaky tits and an enormous ass and a swollen belly...but this time, you're aware of it. Of everything you've done in the last few months. And the very best part?"

Lois was shaking, pussy juice squirting over Blaze's knee as the reporter's thighs clamped on the leg, a bit of foam trickling at the corners of the reporter's mouth as her whole body tensed in climax.

"The last trimester of pregnancy weans you from the **** naturally. The women give birth. Their bodies utterly changed in the last year, between bimbo **** and childbirth. But even if the chemical dependency is gone, the mental dependency remains. Because now they have medical bills, have to take care of the kid...and while they may be back to almost their original level of intelligence, they still remember what it was like to be a slut. It doesn't take many of them long to start using again...just a taste. Just enough to start the cycle all over."

Lois hung limp, her chest heaving violently. Blaze could almost see the titties start to shrink...the double dose, plus whatever Tyrell had given her, was wearing off. Soon, the reporter would be able to understand what she was saying again. The demon doubted it would be hard to send her packing with the sample she had "bought." After all, the reporter still had questions for her...about the women who had gone missing.

The violet eyes turned to Blaze. Seemed to focus. The naked demon leaned forward, drawing the reporter's arms above her head. She pressed her lips against Lois Lane's.

"I have a feeling," Blaze said. "That you're going to be a repeat customer."

Lois, exhausted, confused, and still trembling from the after-effects of the **** and chain of orgasms, nodded dumbly. The whole night was a blur...it was like being drunk...so hard to focus, to remember...yet it all seemed so important. What she had come here for. Cum here for.

Blaze let the reporter's arms drop. She moved her knee...and pressed a baggie of pills into Lois Lane's pussy.

"Now remember," the demon said. "The price goes up, next time. You better have my money."

Lois nodded. Her head felt thick, but she could feel herself coming back together. The free sample must have knocked her for a loop, because she couldn't remember the details of the **** buy. Still, she counted it as a success. Blaze was her dealer now. Maybe next time she would be able to ask about the missing women...or maybe the time after that. This was a big story, and she needed to play it cool.

The Daily Planet's greatest reporter gave Blaze her best smile.

"I'll see you," she said. "On my next night out!"