End: Seal Them In Place

Blaze ran her hand over the reporter's distended stomach. The reporter groaned. Skin was elastic, she still felt ready to explode. The pressure was a constant sensation...and worse, the reporter could feel the ovipositor or whatever it was doing something. An unnatural warmth was present now, deep inside of her, around her sore and gaping cervix...and following that, an uncomfortable but strangely familiar sensation.

It was the feeling that Lois had when, as a young woman before she had gotten on the pill, had fitted a diaphragm as a form of birth control. The soft plug, which she had pressed deep inside of her with her fingers, to protect her cervix...and then in a flash, an image painted itself in her mind's eye. A pink, glistening thing, tiny teeth dripping the toxins that relaxed muscles and numbed pain, squirting some thick black goo, over and over again. It reminded Lois of a bird building a nest, or perhaps a spider spinning a sack to hold her eggs...but Lois could "see" in the darkness, how it carefully covered and held and finally obscured from sight her gaping cervix.

The image, and the slimy ovipositor, withdrew. Lois felt it slip out of her pussy lift, trailing just a little bit of fluid. The demon's hands grabbed the reporter's wrists, and helped Lois out from under the darkness. The reporter pulled up her pants and stood awkwardly, smoothing her shirt over her distended stomach. At a glance, perhaps, people would think she was simply bloated.

"The plug will dissolve, in time," Blaze said. "Your cervix will close as the toxins wear off. Amniotic fluid will smooth out the irregularities in that sexy little belly. You'll want to rub some cocoa butter on your skin every day, to help prevent stretch marks..."

"I just...I can't believe that happened," the reporter blinked. "I mean, I...I just laid there for it. I still hurt down there. I should be angry...or at least upset..."

"Hmm. Yes. Here, have a drink." The bartender reached and grabbed a glass...and then lifted her dick with one hand, pressed the purple head over the edge, and a familiar grey-white goo oozed out of the piss-slit. Blaze handed the glass to Lois. "You'll feel better."

"What...why..." Lois found herself take the glass. The scent was stronger, fresh like that. Like overripe cheese, like cleaning chemicals. The jizz was thick and sticky as Lois slurped it...and then the reporter stood there, oddly numb.

"Think of it like a demonic roofie," Blaze explained. "It makes you suggestible. The more you drink, the more open you become to outside influences. Right about now, you're my good little girl, aren't you Lois?"

The reporter stood there, blinking, oddly numb...but it was a pleasant sort of numbness. Sort of like the early stages of being drunk, when things were just pleasant, and lights had a sort of rosiness to them.

Blaze tapped Lois on the head and stared into her eyes. "You're going to go home. You will forget what happened here. You came down to the bar, interviewed people, did not find what you wanted, and drank too much. Any gaps in your memory were caused from an overindulgence of ****."

"I drank too much?" Lois heard her voice, as if someone else was speaking. She felt very full for some reason. One hand pressed against her stomach. It was oddly bloated...and she felt an ache in her pussy. Was it her period already? She swore that wasn't due for two weeks.

"You did," Blaze said with a smile. "It's time to go home now."

"Home. Right." Lois turned and took a few steps. Blaze lifted the bar and let Lois pass underneath it. The reporter's eyes seemed to glide over women...the heat in the room was oppressive, and her stomach was really aching now. She could almost taste bile in the back of her throat. Lois quickened her pace, to pass back through the Black Door...and the moment she was through it, her one thought was getting home, one hand clutching her bloated belly.

The demon Blaze allowed herself a smile. The suggestible state would wear off soon enough, and in the morning Lois Lane's rational mind would try to piece together the holes in her memory, the bloated stomach, the nausea and discomfort...and all the while the eggs would be germinating, waiting to be born.

"And what," Blaze asked aloud, "will Lois Lane make of that?"

But that is another story.