End: Lois Goes Low

Everything on one card. Lois Lane could feel her heart thunder in her chest, even as she said the word. She had the nine of spades. All she needed was for Blaze to have a higher card. All she needed was...

Blaze tipped her hand to reveal the deuce of spades.

Something drained out of Lois Lane then. The world went suddenly grey. her own hand hit the table, her card fell out of it...

She had lost.

A part of her wanted to say something...anything...to call for another game, raise the stakes again, She couldn't let it end like this, she couldn't...

Lois watched as Blaze rose from her seat. Listless, the reporter couldn't even bring herself to move as the scarlet succubus picked her up, as though the reporter weighed nothing at all.

Time did something funny in that moment. Lois Lane felt herself naked, but couldn't remember how she had lost her clothes. The felt was warm and fuzzy beneath her shoulderblades. Her ass rested just on the edge of the table, her long, slender legs hung off of it. The single bulb swayed above her, and left blinking shadows on her vision...and then Blaze's horned head eclipsed that light. The face descended...

The lips were hot. They pried the reporter's mouth open, and the unrush of superheated air was like the kiss of an open stove. Lois tried to scream, them...and in that moment she felt the white-hot lance that skewered her very being, the demonic prick that singed her cunt as it slammed home.

It was like a living flame made love to her...and though her flesh did not blister or blacken, Lois Lane felt the burn, the absurd heat that gripped her body like a fever. Her eyes felt as though they boiled in their sockets as a tongue of flame explored the reporter's mouth, as the slim red hips drew back and slammed forward, over and and over in that most ancient dance, and the demon's hands bent the reporter's legs back wide, so that Lois Lane's lower spine arched, and Blaze had crawled on top of the table, her prick now pounded down into the reporter's cunny like a pile driver...the perfect position with which to breed the reporter.

In that moment, Lois Lane's violet eyes locked on Blaze's pure white orbs...and they offered anything. her soul, her life, whatever it took...to play any game, to have at least one slim chance to avoid her fate...and Blaze pulled her mouth free, a long, black forked tongue slathered across the reporter's face with something almost like affection. The white-hot spike of her pick drew back until only the tip remained in the reporter's cunny, like the invisible flame at the very edge of a blow torch.

"Ah, Lois, Lois...I don't want your soul. I want your womb."

The reporter's gaze shifted to her stomach, scrunched up as it was by the position she was in...and two glowing pentagrams appeared, on either side and slightly below her navel. Lois Lane did not know what that portended...but she could guess.

With a shriek of maniac triumph, Blaze buried herself balls-deep in the reporter's cunt. Lois Lane screamed, whether in agony or ecstasy she didn't know. Something heavy poured inside of her, like molten tar....and Lois imagined her poor cervix when faced with that deluge of liquid filthy, the black oil-drops of the super-potent jizz leaking through the trembling sphincter...and into the darkness beyond, where Lois Lane's eggs waited.

"Twins run in the family," Blaze said, and there was something mirthless about her Mona Lisa smile...as if she now that her act of desecration was done, the reporter bored her.

Thunder rumbled...and Lois Lane found herself naked, on her own bed. She gasped, stared around, shivered...heat radiated from her body...but she looked around and there was no Blaze, no card table, no...

...there was something in her pussy.

Whatever languor had kept Lois from fighting the demon fled from her as she slid off the bed on wobbly legs and toward the bathroom. One hand went to her stomach, where a dull heat radiated forth, unnatural and uncomfortable. Her fingers went down to her snatch, delved inside...and touched an unexpected barrier.

She held the hand mirror that Lois used for makeup about a foot away from her vagina. With one foot propped on the toilet, she used the fingers of her free hand to spread her labia...and the reporter's heart sank as she saw the inky darkness that shouldn't be there. Holding it open with her outer fingers, she used her middle finger to explore...and found that her whole vaginal canal was plugged tight with a rough, black substance, stiff and congealed.

Blaze's cum. Locked in place to make sure Lois didn't try anything.

For how long it would last, Lois didn't know...but as the reporter lowered the mirror, she looked back on her night out, the decisions she had made, and bitterly regretted what had led her to this end.