End: She Can't Stop Cumming

Lois Lane didn't know what she expected. Pain. Violation. Degradation.

Instead, there was simply a sense of fullness. The warmth of her hand in the reporter's ass. The press of her knuckles stretching out her colon making Lois feel so damn full. The way her ass couldn't close, no matter what, because of the wrist holding it open.

Then Blaze began to move.

She tugged gently, and Lois gasped around her gag, sucking in air as her anus stretched and pulled, deforming around the fist...and then the dickgirl pushed it in, knuckles scraping against what felt like her spine, fingers pressing down on her trapped, inaccessible cunny. The reporter felt her eyes roll up into the back of her head...and the slow, continuous fisting carried on, focusing on stimulating her anus, stretching Lois to her **** and then pushing back in...over...and over...and...

Anticipation built in Lois. She could sense what was coming, and couldn't find it. Her muscles stretched and flexed within the hotbox of her latex prison. Claustrophobia hit the reporter hard, sending her into a panic, her asshole trying to clamp tight, biting into her gag, anything to get out of this shell before...before...

"GRRGHGHGH!" Lois gurgled as an electric wave rippled up her spine. Her muscles contracted, pussy clamping tight, squirting messily into her latex shell, the trapped cunt juice dribbling down into the lower reaches. Silver spots danced in front of the reporter's eyes and Blaze's fist never let up for a moment, the fingers widening as she pulled it back, letting them relax as she pushed deeper within.

"What you need to learn, sweetmeat," Blaze said. "Is your capacity for infinite orgasms."

Some people think of sexual **** as the province solely of pain...but what Lois Lane learned that night, as the fist of Blaze plunged ever in and out of her asshole, teasing her on and on tirelessly, was that the real **** was sexual stimulation. Constant, unending, inescapable. Her ass burned, the muscles loose and quivering, and Lois slid into a state she had never experienced before. One where she was ultrasensitive, ultra-aware of every movement, trapped inside herself and powerless to do anything except cum and cum, and the collected cunt juice was moving up her thighs, the tears from her eyes pooling around her breasts, a steady stream of drool dripping from her open mouth gag.

Lois Lane could not see the sweat plastered on her tormentor's face, the devlish rictus of teeth that Blaze showed to no-one, the bloody flush that gave a demonic cast to her features as the control on her glamour began to slip, so intent was the scarlet succubus at her work.

Women do have a refractory period, but Lois Lane could not measure it. She felt the fist churning up her insides, and as they neared the end Blaze began to pull it out of the reporter's grossly distended anus with wet pops, only to plunge it back in. Again and again, and in her mind Lois was barely conscious, and wanted nothing more than to feel that fist go deeper, to stretch her out more, to break her body in two and send her off in a climax of pain and pleasure...

...then the reporter felt warm air on the inside of her cavernous colon.

"...nine...ten." Blaze sighed. "Congratulations. You held your gape. I'm so proud of you, Lois."

The reporter couldn't speak. She was only dimly aware went something slit the latex shell and peeled her out of it. WIthout anything in her gaping anus, it gulped air like a fish, before trying to close...and not quite making it.

"Oops, little bit of a prolapse there," Blaze said. The sweaty demon held the reporter in her arms, Lois as limp and weak as a newborn babe. "I'm sure we'll have more fun with that later, but for now..."

They stepped forward. Lois was aware of shadow, all around them. Her eyes were barely open, but everything was blurred, as though seen through a semi-opaque veil...yet there was a sense of movement, of travel...and then they were in the reporter's apartment. Blaze laid the reporter on her stomach, naked, in the bed. Lois Lane's eyes were already closed by the time her head hit the pillow...but they opened again when they felt one last thing.

The demonic dickgirl was straddling the reporter's legs. The head of her cock pushed the reporter's prolapsed anus back inside her ruined asshole. Lois couldn't even voice a moan as it pushed, not all the way in...but then something hot and thick and heavy began to pour in.

In her feverish and exhausted state, Lois imagined one of those soft-serve ice cream stations, the characteristic swirl on the cones...but this was thicker, heavier, thick as silicone as Blaze worked her cock in circles, and the stuff seemed to dry immediately, so that Lois Lane's ass couldn't close on it...and when it was done, the reporter could tell that her ass was well and truly plugged, the anus unable to close. Though she could not see it, the widest part of the impromptu butt plug was a full five inches in diameter.

"There now," Blaze said with a sigh as she slid off the bed. She snapped her fingers, and a black card with gold letters appeared. She set it on the nightstand. "Call me when you're ready to play again."

Lois Lane closed her eyes...and that was how her night out ended. Having failed in all of her stated objectives...but having experienced something beyond anything she had ever expected.