End: Nothing Much. Just Your Soul.

The devil's voice was nonchalant. Casual. Like a priest naming the cost of a funeral mass. The most normal price in the world. The minimum of considerations. Barely a trifle.

"No," Lois Lane said firmly.

Blaze crouched down. Bent until her bollocks rested on the floor. Stared into Lois Lane's eyes, even as her thumbnails peeled back the reporter's lids so that Lois couldn't even blink. Couldn't look away. Was **** to stare into the pure white eyes of the scarlet succubus as Valeria continued to pump hard and fast.

"Why not?" Blaze's voice was almost a whisper. "It's not like you're even using it. You'll never even know it's gone. Just a little bit of nothing with your name wrapped on it. I shouldn't even offer you anything for it. Really, I'm doing you a favor."

"No...sale..." Lois huffed.

The demon's smile froze on her lips. She ceased to breathe. Still as a statue...and then things changed.

Little spikes pushed through the skin, which now took on the texture of a dragon's scales. The cock became a crimson spike like a rhino's horn, that extended until the sharp tip touched the underside of the reporter's chin. A tiny prick of pain there, as it broke the skin. Lois couldn't see the drop of blood that ran down the length of the demonic spike, but she could feel the little points of tiny, needle-like spikes on the demon's hands. One move, and Lois knew Blaze could rip her face off.

"Valeria likesss it," Blaze hiss, a thin black forked tongue extending from her now inhuman mouth. "They all likesss it!"

The smart monkey option would have been to say yes. To give into fear, survival instinct, pleasure. There was the implicit promise of pain and **** versus the very real promise of the kind of sex that Lois Lane had dreamed of since she had stumbled across her father's porno magazines. The kind of sex that adults gave up on, grew out of. Wild fantasies of lesbian trysts, huge toys, 24/7 orgies, a tongue for every hole and a hole for every tongue.

A part of Lois was curious what that was like.

A bigger part of Lois was curious what Blaze could do if she said no. After all, these other women had all said yes. Had any of them actually tempted Blaze's wrath? Could the demon actually do anything to Lois, if she didn't ask for it? A part of Lois rationalized that if the demon wanted something from her, that meant she couldn't get it by ****.

"You can ask me a thousand times," Lois Lane said levelly. "And the answer is still no. You can't have my soul. It may not be much, but it's mine, and you're never going to have it."

For a moment, Blaze looked as though she was going to bite off the reporter's face.

Then the spikes retreated. The smile grew a little wider. Blaze blinked, once.

"Alright. Have it your way. I'll let the girls have you tonight, and ask you again tomorrow. And if you don't give me your soul then, they can have you then too. Every night for a thousand nights, you will be fucked and abused without mercy...and when you finally tire of it all, I'll be there to hear your prayer and accept your offering."

For a moment, Lois Lane thought the demon was going to kiss her. Instead, she stood up and walked away.

The other women, naked and giggling, soulless and lusty, closed in. Lois Lane swallowed hard as she realized the enormity of her predicament. She was trapped here, with a gaggle of insatiable sluts, with no way out except the one Blaze had offered.

"Superman," she whispered, as strap-on waggled in her face. "Save me."

Then the silicone shaft was shoved into her throat.

Lois Lane would lose track of time. Minutes, hours, night, day. The parade of pussies was endless. She fought, when she could, but they were stronger and more numerous. Her throat grew raw from screaming around fake cocks. Her ass and pussy were fucked until they bled. They delighted in new tortures, new degradations...and Lois Lane wondered, in one of her waking moments, as she emerged from a dream of being strangled by pussy to a woman rubbing herself off on the reporter's face, if Hell would hold any surprises for her.

Of course, little did Lois Lane know then, they were just getting started. Blaze cared about the reporter's free will; the soulless women who had sold themselves to the demon already did not. As Lois Lane's night out stretched into weeks and months, their pleasures would become cruder, crueler, more violent...and Lois Lane would feel the temptation like a burning flame in her soul.

Whether she ever gave in...well, that's a different story.