End: Loose Lois

The reporter gasped as the twin cocks in her pussy and ass seemed to swell a fraction larger. She could feel her pussy and ass being pushed in and out with each stroke, flesh distending as they gripped the pair of demonic dicks plunging depths. Yet it was Blaze's words that haunted her.

"I'm going to shape your holes to my cock, Lois," she was leaning over the recumbent reporter, Lois Lane's legs having given out. "I'm going to make you so loose that you'll always be gaping open. Until any lesser cock is going to be like a hotdog thrown into a subway tunnel."

Lois Lane shuddered. She had seen women with busted orifices. Professional porn stars with prolapsed anuses, the pink socks of their colon hanging out from between their cheeks until they manually stuffed their assholes back into place. Mothers whose vaginas had prolapsed after birth, the muscular donut of their cervix hanging outside their labia.

It was supposed to be painful...disgusting. Lifechanging, permanent damage.

_So why the fuck do I find that so hot? _she asked herself.

The reporter shuddered. She could feel her pussy and ass stretching. The skin felt taut, every vein and bump on those demonic dicks distinct and providing yet more stimulation to her already over-stimulated holes. It was like some weird erotic fantasy...but it was real. She could feel her guts shift and groan whenever the cock in her ass pushed too far, pressing against the turn in her colon. The cock in her pussy stabbed deep, but never deep enough to actually brush against her cervix. It was a more loving and driving a fuck than Lois could ever have imagined in her dreams.

"Tell me," Angelica Blaze whispered. "Tell me what you want."

"L-loosen me up," Lois moaned out loud. She felt like the helpless bimbo slut in some Japanese hentai manga and loved it. "Make my pussy and ass take the shape of your dick! Fuck my holes until they can't close anymore!"

It was the sex talking, and Lois Lane knew it. The same terrible drive that would have her beg to be creampied, to ask her lover to stick it in her ass, to drive her just that one degree of sexual titillation over the edge to drive her to orgasm. Except now she was saying this to a double-dicked Satanic shemale, and her heart thrilled to the idea that this time...this time it might actually happen.

Long hours passed until dawn.

The fucking did not relent, not for a moment.

At times, Lois Lane felt sure that she had passed out, perhaps for a moment. Yet she was always brought back with a start as she felt the cocks inside of her stretch a little broader, push a little deeper. Until it felt to her, half-conscious and propped up on the bed with pillows so that Blaze could finish gauging out her holes, that she was getting fucked by two American footballs, fore and aft.

She knew that was probably a misconception. That she could not possibly be that dilated, though her body screamed at her that yet, she was. Unable to close her legs, the reporter closed her eyes and felt a last, final push that reminded Lois of what women had said giving birth—the way it was hard to breath, that every muscle screamed and everything below the waist threatened to let go at once—and then when it pulled out Lois hung onto the bed, because it felt like everything was being pulled out along with it.

A long, tense minute passed as Lois felt her asshole and pussy stretch outside of her body...drawn back by the massive, bulbous cocks within, too big for these holes...and then a warm, wet spurt of liquid that propelled her forward, halfway off the bed, an audible SNAP as her sphincters were pushed off.

Face on the floor, her pussy and ass numb, Lois Lane tentatively reached back to survey the damage.

Her hand found her pussy...and fell in. It hadn't prolapsed, for which Lois thanked whatever god might be listening, but four fingers pressed in without touching the sides. Try as she might, the reporter couldn't close it at all. As if some invisible **** held it open, or her muscles were simply paralyzed in position, frozen at the apex of their gape from her lover's dick.

Her ass...

Soft, puffy flesh met the reporter's questing fingers. A tube of flesh, hanging an inch out of where her rectum should be. Lois swallowed and began, carefully, to push it back inside of her. She knew it wouldn't stay—if an anal prolapse didn't heal on its own, it probably required surgery—and that in itself was easier than Lois imagined it would be. Four fingers pushed the slippery, cum-slick prolapsed asshole back into position...and then, without any effort at all, Lois slid her whole hand inside her asshole. It was like nothing she had ever experienced, really. The hot, wet hole, warm and soft and starting to ache gently as pain receptors came back on line.

"It's going to hurt for a bit," Blaze rubbed the reporter's butt-cheeks gently. "And I'll have to fuck them regularly, to keep them open."

Lois Lane swallowed. She had passed beyond the world she knew, and into some strange world beyond. Thought of the seed swimming around in her belly, and felt with grim certainty that she was probably pregnant.

"Sorry baby," she whispered as sleep came to take her. "Sorry your mommy's such a loose slut..."

Then darkness came to Lois, even as dawn rose over Metropolis. Down in her boudoir, the demon Blaze laid a gentle kiss on her lover's ass, and lifted her onto the bed, to sleep and perhaps to heal. The night had turned out even better than she had dreamed it would. But now it was at an end.