End: Lois Lane Can't Bring Herself To Convince Someone Else To Carry Blaze's Eggs

There was a war within the reporter's mind—acute supernatural fear, for her body and soul versus her innate goodness and morality. Lois Lane good still feel the demonic creature's ovipositor inside of her, could feel the tense and throb of her own cunt around it, knew that the demon waited for somewhere to put her eggs...

...and yet, despite that false glimmer of hope, Lois knew she could never condemn another mortal woman to the same fate she herself thought to escape.

I can't do it, Lois thought bitterly. I just can't.

Then prepare yourself, Lois Lane, to bear my spawn! The demon projected.

Yet...nothing happened. The demon's ovipositor throbbed, but no eggs burst forth to **** their way into the reporter's uterus. Lois Lane lay there, resigned to damnation for a minute...two minutes...

Blaze wiggled a little.

It's a lot harder when the candidate isn't willing, the demon's voice came through in the reporter's mind, petulant and frustrated. Don't you want to take my eggs, to spare some other poor mortal?

Lois Lane's brow furrowed. This was not a conversation she had ever imagined having.

No! Look, I don't want you to lay your eggs in me, and I'm not going to trick some other woman into letting you lay her eggs in some unsuspecting innocent woman! The reporter's anger and frustration seeped into her mental voice....and the demon seemed to wince at this emotional onslaught.

Please! You're the fifth woman I've tried and I'm feeling...really full... Blaze's mental voice had risen to a whine.

Lois growled.

Why don't you just find women online who are into that sort of thing? I'm not going to be your broodmother out of pity! Lois put all the **** of her personality behind that statement, which was not inconsiderable. Just start a FetLife account like a normal person! There's probably a hundred slutty perverts in Metropolis alone that will carry your eggs!

Slowly, achingly, the demon withdrew. Lois gasped as she could breathe again. Her pussy felt oddly empty as Blaze crawled backwards.

"Show me this...'FetLife.'" The demonic dickgirl said.

Which is how, an hour later, the reporter and the demon were fully dressed and hunched over a laptop. One of the missing women—Blaze had apparently made them minions after they refused to bear her eggs—brought Lois a double vodka with a splash of cranberry juice as she guided Blaze to various kinks. The creature of sin was utterly enthralled...and yet somehow, Lois felt less bad about things. If any woman on there wanted to take that giant ovipositor up their pussy and foster some eggs, that was their business.

Lois tossed back the vodka, glad that she had solved her case...and that she had more to show for it than a sore pussy and a parasitic demon brood in her belly.

"Goodbye, Blaze," Lois said, as she left the demonic dickgirl to her online dating...and she didn't see the demon lok up for a moment and smile.

"Fare thee well, Lois Lane," the demon said, her eggs throbbing inside of her, **** for release. "And thank you."