End: No Masturbation. This Cock Is Mine.

"If I'm going to get knocked up because your sorry scarlet schlong can't keep its corrupted cum in your ridiculous Christmas-tree ornament cumsacks of yours, then you better get this one thing straight!" The reporter stabbed her finger right at Blaze's face. "This cock is mine, you understand? You don't fuck anyone else, you don't masturbate. I'm not going to be some cumrag you toss aside or use when it's convenient. You will fuck me and no one else, or so fucking help me I will have Superman throw you into the fucking sun, do you hear me?"

Lois Lane could almost hear the splatter of black semen spurt inside of her, like a gusher of Texas crude at an oil well. The demon's dick was so stiff inside of her that it wasn't just a boner...it was practically fossilized.

"Okay," Blaze said, the incredibly powerful demon apparently unable to muster any opposition to the reporter's demanding, take-charge attitude, at least not while Lois Lane's hips rose and fell on her crimson cock, black jizz oozing out of the reporter's pussy with every push.

"Good!" Lois said. Still agitated, she reached down and pressed her palms against the demon's small red tits. With unnecessary ****, the reporter began to grind her hips, the cock knocking around inside of her cum-stuffed cunt, and Lois began to work toward her long-denied orgasm. "Now, whose cock is this?"

"Yours," Blaze said, with surprising meekness.

The reporter closed her fingers on the breasts until the stiff little nipples popped out between the knuckles of her second and third fingers.

"And whose cum is this?"

"Your cum," Blaze said, her white eyes wide and utterly cowed at this **** of nature that writhed on her dick.

"That's right. And if I get knocked up from this, you are going to be my cock-**** for the rest of your life, you got that?"

The demon opened her mouth...and perhaps did a quick mental calculation. Or perhaps her dick, which twitched and throbbed inside the reporter as the black magic that kept her semen continually refilled slowly built up the pressure between her legs, made the decision for her.

"Yes, mistress." The demon said.

It wasn't love...and yet, it wasn't quite a hate-fuck either. Lois Lane groped her demon lover's tits and ground her sore pussy down. The anticipation built and built within her...months without an orgasm before this night, and she wasn't sure of what would happen in the weeks and months ahead, but she was sure that if she had even the possibility of getting knocked up tonight, she wanted to cum her brains out so that at least she had a few orgasms to show for it.

So the demon Blaze, Queen of Hell, premature ejaculator, the scarlet succubus who had set out this night to despoil Lois Lane in every carnal way imaginable...laid quietly on the bed as the Daily Planet's Greatest Reporter ground herself away to climax after climax. And if Lois Lane could have read the expression on the demon's face, in those pure white eyes that beheld every gesture as the writhing, humping woman lost herself in the moment, working out all her long-pent up sexual frustration on the demon whose dick, despite her best efforts, still could not stop shooting off again and again in that overflowing cunny, until the reporter's whole tunnel was packed full of Satanic seed...

...perhaps Lois Lane would have sensed a change of heart in Blaze that would have many ramifications for the future. Yet that is another story. For as Lois Lane's night out ended, she collapsed into a shivering, sweaty heap, unable to feel her legs, cunt on fire and oozing black goo, her cervix spasming and sore...and as the reporter's eyes closed to sleep the sleep of the utterly fucked, Blaze raised one hand and laid it across Lois' back...and could have gladly lain like that forever.