End: Lois Tells Blaze To Go To Hell

Rebellion flared within Lois Lane's mind. It burned through the haze of sex and booze, the strange and terrible influence of Blaze that had overwhelmed her. Stubborn refusal stiffened the reporter's spine as she raised her head, stared the devil in the eye and growled:

"Go to hell!"

Blaze's smile died.

"Have it your way, piggy. Ladies? Get the funnels."

Cruel, mocking laughter met this order. The women grabbed and held Lois down, crowding in around the reporter. Before, Lois had enjoyed the attentions—but now she was sober, conscious, and aware of the aches and pains. Her body felt heavier, swollen and bloated, and now her ass and jaw ached.

Nor were her sufferings at an end, but just beginning.

Hands pried apart her ass cheeks. Lois gave a muffled shriek as the end of a hose was **** into her swollen, sweaty ass...and the laughing women, the ones she had come to save, crammed their stinking fingers into her mouth and pried her jaw open so that they could stick another plastic hose down her throat. The reporter coughed and gagged, tried to twist her head to dislodge it, but they were too many.

Then they rolled out the kegs, and the reporter's violet eyes went wide.

"Don't worry, Lois," Blaze said, stroking her cock in front of the reporter. "With my magic, you will absorb all of it...every calorie, every drop...and I will enjoy watching you swell into the disgusting pig of a woman you have always feared you would become."

Desperately, Lois Lane tried to scream. She thrashed, striving to buck off the women who held her. Like a wild animal she thrashed, exerting all her strength. Hoping to break free...or failing that, for someone to hear her, to help her, save her...

Superman! Lois Lane cried out in her mind. Save me, please!

Yet there was no one there to hear except her tormentors. And as three women lifted up the first keg, Blaze grunted, her cock spitting a thick black stream into the funnel...oozing slowly down the hose. Quickly hurried along by a torrent of foaming lager.

Lois Lane felt the cold liquid gurgle down her throat...and behind her, a liquid pressure surged as the other keg was emptied into her, slowly so as not to overflow the funnel...and some terrible alchemy happened when those fluids flowed into the reporter's body. Though it should have been impossible, Lois felt herself get heavier...her tits spilling out, thighs thickening, belly pushing against the shower stool, ass swelling into a pasty mass.

In panic, Lois felt the second chin fill out, her cheeks puffing. Now the women's hands sank into pudgy arms, the pale flesh squishing between their fingers...and they laughed and laughed. Fat piled on fat, her flesh stretching, red marks appearing and healing within seconds, leaving behind the tell-tale scars of swift weight gain.

A keg of beer weighs nearly 130 pounds. Two of them...on top of what Lois had already absorbed...the reporter knew she was pushing four hundred pounds by the time the stool legs gave out. The reporter landed heavily on her belly, her massive, soft tits pressed against the floor. She wheezed, finding it hard to breathe as the hoses were pulled from mouth and ass...and Blaze knelt down, her hard cock pointed at the reporter's face. The demon grabbed a handful of the reporter's hair and pulled her face up, the fat on the back of the reporter's neck bulging into a roll.

"Don't worry piggy. I've had about as much fun as I can stand with you. We're leaving now. None of us will accost you," the demon's smile was a mocking leer. "Though there may come a time when you wish someone would fuck your holes."

They left her there, Lois Lane weak and naked, exhausted and obese. Staring out at the women she could have joined...and who had, instead, sold themselves body and soul to a hungry darkness that she had no doubt would consume them all.

"Superman," Lois called out weakly as she sought and failed to shift her bulk. "Help...me..."