End: Lois Will Serve Blaze

The heat in Lois Lane's pussy was beyond anything she had ever experienced. In minutes, she had been reduced to such a state that she had never experienced in her entire life. It was hard to breath, hard to think. She needed to fuck and yet it hurt to fuck, her pussy raw and sore, her hips aching, breath ragged as she sucked in air. Her body was scratched, her nipples purple and bruised where the demon had pinched them too hard...and she was tired, so tired...

Lois struggled to gather what strength she had. To focus on the important decision she had to make. She looked down at Blaze. They were on her bed in her apartment, Lois on top. The scarlet-skinned dickgirl looked surreal against the familiar surroundings.

"My days...are my own?" She said. The reporter slowed her **** humping as much as she could, her haggard violet eyes seeking something in that pure white demonic gaze. Even tired and tortured by the endless lust inside of her, Lois Lane was beautiful.

"You will answer when I call, day or night. Yet you will live your life as normal when not about the business I give you," the demon said as she reached up one warm hand to brush back the reporter's disheveled hair.

The human woman planted her cunt down on the dick. She tried to stop, but her betraying hips began to swivel, grinding her cunt against the demon with the prick deep inside of her. The demon's smile grew wider, in frank admiration at her struggles. The reporter's whole body began to shake and shiver with her efforts to maintain control, her small breasts jiggling.

"I won't...****," Lois said. She could feel Blaze's cock throb inside of her, saw something black and sticky ooze from her inflamed and swollen pussy. "Or ****. I don't...want to hurt anyone."

Blaze's hands slid down to massage the reporter's weary thighs, then rose up to her hips. Almost absently, the demon began to life the reporter up—there was a wet schluck as her cunt slid off the dick, breaking suction—and then gently let her back down.

"Interesting. Few mortals have the willpower to even think of setting terms," the demon said. "But know this, Lois Lane. My service will require you to do other things that break your moral code. You will lie and cheat and steal if I so command it; you will break oaths and demean yourself at my merest whisper. If I call on your to get down on your knees and suck the cock of a complete stranger, you will obey without hesitation."

Weary beyond words, Lois looked down at her body. Her stomach still looked swollen, as though she were a few months pregnant. Cunt sticky with demonic jizz. If she didn't make this deal, she'd end up a gutter whore anyway.

"Okay," she said.

Her heart sank. Her hope fled. It was somehow freeing to give up, to give in. Easier than Lois had thought it would be.

"I'll serve you."

Then Blaze came.

Lois Lane had thought that Blaze had cum in her before, but she was mistaken. The hands gripped thighs like a vise, and Lois opened her mouth to scream as a raging torrent hit the back of her cunt. It was like sitting on a fire hose at full blast, and the reporter felt sure that at any moment it was going to tear through her belly and push her heart and lungs out of her throat.

All strength failed the reporter and she was kept aloft on the crimson cock only through the superhuman strength of the demon she had bound herself too. A harsh ammonia smell permeated her in a chemical haze as what felt like gallons of satanic spunk washed across her womb.

Lois collapsed forward...and she felt a single sharp pain, right below her left nipple...and then she hit the bed.

Darkness came.

The reporter didn't know if she slept. It was as though she ceased to be.

The alarm brought her back to life. Reality. Her hand stretched out automatically to silence the chirping reminder.

Her crotch was stuck to the bed.

Lois dragged herself out of the worst wet-spot she had ever experienced. Took stock of her body, looking her naked form over. Her stomach was no longer swollen. Unfamiliar bruises covered her breasts and crotch. But nothing that anyone could see, if she dressed conservatively. She winced as she stood on wobbly legs, her cunt aching, lips raw and swollen, her pubic hair a mess of dried cum.

Only one thing was different: a small red pentagram, on the underside of her left breast. Like a tattoo...although Lois knew it for what it was. The mark of her pact, her submission.

She looked in the mirror. Time for a shower, makeup...no one would know what happened last night, except for her and Blaze.

"Three years and three days," she said, wondering what the scarlet succubus would have her do. Only time would tell. For now, her night was over...and a new day had begun.