End: On Her Back, Legs Spread, Cunt Filled

The cock was ripped from Lois Lane's throat, so fast and hard that the reporter's teeth ached. Her throat burned, her voice coming out only as a rasp, unable to form words. Angelica Blaze grabbed the woman with surprising strength given her thin frame, and hauled her away from the natural stone where they lay...

...light and darkness shifted, and Lois blinked, eyes blurring as the world twisted around her. She coughed, old cum sputtering out from between her lips, bitter and rancid with stomach bile. Angelica set her on her back in and they were in the middle of a bare concrete room, a single lightbulb overhead, a single black door behind them.

The young woman spread Lois Lane's legs wide, and the reporter realized she was naked. The floor was cold beneath her back, a metal grill pressing against the base of her spine, and Anglelica was naked too...only she wasn't Angelica. The reporter's vision swam, and different figures loomed over her. One the thing, ****-out young woman with the broad dark eyes...then an older woman, regal-looking, lips twisted in a Mona Lisa smile, breasts bigger...then the same woman, skin red as fresh blood on parchment, dark horns curling from her brow, eyes like two windows into a white universe sunk in dark, skull-like pits...then something else, even less human, bones so sharp that they broke the surface of her cheeks in menacing spikes, tongue a twisting mass of black tendrils, a halo of negative electricity limning her head in unholy mockery of a saint...

Only one common denominator between them. The heavy, hot cock that lay on the reporter's stomach. Even as Lois watched, body suddenly weak and helpless to resist, the various versions of Angelica Blaze swirled in and out of focus, combining features, shifting...and the dickgirl drew her cock down the length of the reporter's body to her defenseless pussy.

"Isn't this better, Lois?" Angelica said, her accent weird and echo-y as though many different women were talking at once. "Isn't this your natural place? On your back. Legs spread."

The reporter's body shook. Her head throbbed. She felt like she had just awoken from a deep sleep, her body still unable to move. Unable to do anything except watch as Blaze slid the head of her cock over the reporter's clit...lined the stiff member up with her pussy...pressed forward, the lips giving way as though they were made to part before this beast. All that time, the familiar features of the young woman Lois had tried to save were shifting. Now she was human, but with pure white eyes without pupil or iris, the dark hair crowned by that dark halo. Then horns grew from that head and the skin darkened and reddened, her breasts blossomed, the stiff little nipples like unripe strawberries, begging to be sucked.

"Your cunt...filled."

The curtains parted. Lois Lane grunted as the dick slammed forward into her wet tunnel. Unable to move, to speak, Lois couldn't protest against this invasion—but the worst part was feeling her body respond to it, the cunt clutching the cock that drove into her belly, the demonic dickgirl leaning over her pushing forward until their crotches kissed, and Lois felt the slap of a pair of heavy balls against her bare ass, a promise of what was yet to come.

"I could have done this at any time." A hand grasped her throat lightly. Lois could feel it shift between the hand of a young woman, bestoned with thrift-store jewelry; the claws of a demon that threatened to scratch the reporter's fair skin; a strange and furry hoof that threatened to press down and crush her larynx. "But I wanted to wait until you let me in. Until you wanted it. And you do, Lois. Your body is crying out for it..."

The hips began to lurch, driving the cock in and out of the reporter's cunt. It wasn't making love, or the dog-fucks-bitch sex of a one-night stand. This was the rut. There was something primal about the driving length of the prick, which seemed to press too deep inside of Lois Lane, how those thrusts always ended with the heavy balls slapping her ass and then squeezing a bit, as though trying to go deeper. The odd little cramps and butterflies in Lois Lane's belly as though things were happening there. A sense of apprehension filled the reporter and began to grow...an awareness of what was coming, of what all of this was just prelude too. Desperately she tried to find her voice, to **** herself to move, to fight, to grab those hips and push them balls deep, something, anything...

Lips pressed into Lois Lane's. Soft, hot lips that threatened to burn her skin. The tongue that **** its way past her teeth felt too long for a human mouth, scaled like a serpent. Hot spittle flooded the reporter's mouth, coppery as sucking on a new-minted penny, and though Lois didn't want to, she was **** to swallow.

You want this Lois, the voices came into her mind. Your body wants this. Embrace it. Enjoy it. Because you cannot escape it. Tonight, you are mine...

Time lost meaning. It was too much for Lois Lane. The body that heaved against hers kept changing. Here, the soft warm skin of a young woman; there the hard, callused flesh of a demon; the cock plunged in and out, the hands roamed and carressed, and the reporter lost track of how many of them there were. The only constant was the metal grate digging into her back, the cold, hard floor beneath her shoulders and buttocks, the steady wet drip of blood or cum or something oozing down from her violated cunt as the churning cock stirred up her pussy.

It was enough to drive a normal woman mad.

Through it all, Lois Lane tried to fight. To make her body move, to bite the tongue that kissed her, to scratch at the scaled body that fiercely humped her, to weep as she felt the splash of hot seed spurt deep into her cleft, only for the endless rut to continue. She lost count of the times her body was lost to shuddering, cunt-shattering orgasms, mind going blank, the voices in her head momentarily gasping in delight at how tight her poor abused pussy squeezed at their demonic dick, pussy squirting, nipples aching as they were crushed against Angelica Blaze's chest...

...even the Daily Planet's greatest reporter could not fight forever.

By the time the first cock crowed, somewhere far out in the farms on the outskirts of Metropolis, Lois Lane had ceased fighting at all. Her body moved as Angelica's moved, her tired muscles super-sensitive to every shift in weight, every grind. The aching pussy squeezed the cock as it drew back for the long stroke, and relaxed to welcome it home as it was driven deep into the well-plowed cleft, pushing spent sperm out of the pussy in a thick black flood before the balls slapped once more against an ass that had become chapped from a thousand such thrusts.

Lois Lane sighed weakly as her body shook in one final orgasm, unable even to feel the last hot spurt into her overflood cunt. Angelica Blaze, once more in her human garb, kissed her tenderly, almost chastely, on the lips.

"You did not find what you were looking for tonight, Lois Lane," she whispered. "Tonight, perhaps...you will come back and try again, hmm?"

"Tonight..." the words came from the reporter's aching throat. "Go out..."

"That's right," Blaze said as she gathered Lois into her arms. One swift step through shadow brought the reporter back to her apartment. All the cum and sweat was left behind in that small dark room behind the black door. The reporter's clothes, likewise clean and ready to put on, lay on the bed next to where the demonic dickgirl laid her.

"Come back tonight," the words whispered into the reporter's brain. "Forget tonight. Bury the memory deep. You need to come to the club tonight, to find those women..."

"Club...tonight...find the women..."

Blaze kissed those lips one last time, satisfied now that her suggestion had taken root. Tonight, as darkness fell, Lois Lane would awake refreshed...and their game would begin again. The demon allowed herself a smile, wondering how it would go tonight.

It was so much more fun this way, letting Lois make her own choices, to see how she would fall...