End: Lois Lane Is Barefoot And In The Kitchen...But Something Is Missing

Lois Lane was a bachelorette's bachelorette. Her mother had died before she had taught either Lois or her sister how to cook, and her father was a soldier at heart who could happily subsist on MREs for weeks at a time. Her idea of a salad was to buy a bag of greens and throw some olive oil on it. Meat went into the oven until it was brown, and was pulled out hopefully before it started to smoke. The reporter ate quite a lot of raw vegetables, because they required no prep time beyond a brief rinse and left no mess beyond a bit of carrot stem or apple core.

Which is why she felt weirdly more self-conscious about her cooking than she did that she was naked and barefoot in her kitchen, wearing nothing more than an apron as the demonic dickgirl admired her backside.

Yet somehow...Lois Lane knew what to do. She watched, with increasing amazement, as her hands chopped the onions, dicing them as neatly as a sous-chef in a restaurant. Her brow furrowed as she added exactly the right amount of butter to the rice for the pilaf. The confusion and amazement deepened as she instinctively knew when the pan was the right temperature. Which of the mushrooms was bad.

She stared down at the raw steak in the pan for only a moment, a back part of her brain had already calculated how much time it needed...and it was just enough to set the table.

Blaze leaned on the chair. The reporter paused as she set the plate down. The demon's clothes had vanished. The scarlet succubus' right foot rested on her left knee, and the great swollen red cock dangled across the left thigh like a swollen leech. The naked reporter pointedly tried to ignore it as she set out the plates and utensils...and that shocked Lois too. She had never really been bothered with salad fork versus regular fork, but now she set the plate as if she had known it all of her life.

Curiosity burned inside the reporter. She was sure this was something that Blaze had done. Yet before she could formulate a question, it was time to flip the steak.

The image of the demon's dick filled the reporter's mind, even as she went about her tasks. A lot of subtle timing went into making a meal, even a simple one. Flip the steak, and then the rice was done. Bowls to get out, a last minute sprinkle of fresh-ground pepper...a tasteful arrangement on the plate...but the reporter's body went through it all instinctively, as the swollen, throbbing chunk of meat that was sitting at her kitchen table occupied more of the reporter's mind than the steak did.

Lois swallowed hard as she made her was back to the table with the laden plates. Wet trickles ran down her thighs, and the reporter was glad that the apron his that. The unnatural lust that built inside of her was something different than before. Her ass clenched and her thighs rubbed against each other, but Lois resisted the urge to touch herself, even as she laid the meal down.

Blaze popped the cork on a bottle of line, and Lois allowed Blaze to fill her glass first. Then, just as they were about to eat, the demon surprised her.

She said grace.

The demon held out her hands, palms up, head bowed, and instinctively Lois moved to lay her hands in them.

"Bless us, O Dark Lord, and these Thy gifts,

which we are about to receive from They bounty,

through cock to cunt. So mote it be."

"So mote it be..." Lois instinctively echoed...and that struck the reporter as more wrong than anything else.

Blaze grinned. Lois sipped her wine as she watched the scarlet succubus dig into the steak...and the longer she watched, the more the burning need between the reporter's legs seemed to grow. The reporter's nipples grew hard and erect, and tented the front of the apron. Her thighs rubbed together as much as she dared as she felt her crotch swamp, her hot juices ooze out of her until it felt like she sat in a puddle. It was an exquisite ****...and Lois could not see, then, the demon's blood work on her. How the crimson stain had spread from her asshole and over her labia, and the tops of her thighs and pelvis slowly turned an unnatural pink. All of that was hidden by the apron.

The demon cleaned her plate, and by the time she had finished, the reporter's wine glass was empty, and a flustered heat filled Lois Lane's face. She felt light-headed...dizzy...

"An excellent meal," Blaze said. Following her new instincts, Lois rose to collect the dishes, to take them to the kitchen and wash them...but a crimson hand seized the reporter's wrist. "Almost perfect, really."

Lois shuddered in the demon's grasp. Her head swam, body and mind going north and south. A part of her wanted to twist away, to claim their bargain was done...and the other part could smell Blaze's cock above the cooking smells, could see the tip of the turgid dick now rise above the level of the kitchen table.

"It just needs one thing. A dessert, if you will," Blaze said, and gave Lois a little tug...which made Lois twirl, her apron spinning up, so that the demon could see the spread of her blood inside of the reporter. Lois came to a stop with her apron toward Blaze...and despite how the human woman quivered and shook, she could not bring herself to back away as the demon reached behind her and untied the apron strings.

It was as if the reporter's feet were nailed to the floor.

"Barefoot and in the kitchen," Blaze's voice was a hoarse whisper. "But you know what's missing?"

"I'm not pregnant," the voice that came from the reporter's lips was hardly her own. It was too soft, too meek. Yet she knew it was exactly the answer that Blaze was looking for, because she lifted Lois up off her feet and guided her back down into the demon's own lap.

Crimson cock slid into crimson cunt, and Lois Lane gasped.

Silently, inwardly, Lois Lane berated herself. She knew better than to deal with devils, yet she had done so anyway. The reporter's eyes closed as her body betrayed her, the cock spreading her cunny so perfectly, filling her so completely, as if it was made for her...until the bottom of the reporter's rosy buttocks pressed against the demon's swollen balls.

"Don't feel bad," Blaze said as her hands groped the reporter's ass, which was now a vivid pink. The stain spread up the reporter's naked lower back. "It is what we do. Any little chink in your armor, any slight invitation that lets us in...and we slide past all of your defenses. To corrupt you from within. Remake you into that which you never wished to be...docile, domestic, maternal. No more dangerous nights out. You'll spend long, grey years pumping out demon spawn and cooking meals, keeping house, changing diapers. Until your womb is barren and your tits sink down to your knees."

"Nooo..." Lois Lane's protest came out as a moan. Her pussy squished as she clamped tight around the cock. She squirted hotly onto the floor, and already a part of Lois made a note of it, so that she could mop it up later.

"Oh yes," Blaze murmured. "All because Lois Lane had a night out!"

The former reporter gave an inarticulate moan as a liquid heat blossomed inside of her and sealed her fate. She thought back over the events of the night, at all the times she could have chosen differently...but she had not made those choices, and now as Blaze emptied her balls deep inside of Lois Lane's pussy, and painted the mouth of her womb black with her Satanic spunk, they both knew that it was too late...too late for anything.

Lois Lane was fucked.