End: Wrap Her Arms Around That Giant Cock And Tug The Demon Off

There were things Lois Lane had done in her life that she wasn't proud of. That she would never admit to her coworkers. The time she had worked the night shift after a porn theater for three weeks, cleaning jizz stains off every surface, just to stake out a junior LexCorp accountant with very specific tastes. Or when she had dug through the bucket of spent condoms at a record-winning gangbang to find the one she needed to prove the paternity of a senator's child. The time a young and cash-strapped Lois Lane had allowed her pussy to serve as the master for a mold of sex toys that were still on sale in some outlets in Japan.

Now here she was. Scared to ****. The cock now loomed over her, at least six feet tall. A scarlet monolith of malignant virility. The massive testicles were like medicine balls. Somehow, Lois Lane needed to get this thing off. Or her story would end right here, right now.

Desperately, the reporter hugged the colossal crimson cock. It was like smashing her tits against a warm, squishy tree. A vast vein, as thick as the reporter's wrist, pulsed against her breast bone. The smell was overwhelming—it was like rubbing her face into the crotch of every man she'd ever blown, all at once—and a dollop of pre-cum oozed down onto her head like a pint of yogurt poured right onto her hair.

Lois lifted her feet out of the tub and balanced on the edges. Her arms wrapped around the pillar of prick and squeezed. From this vantage, her inner arms could rub around the sensitive glans...all Lois had to do was stare into the hungry mouth of a cock that had just tried to swallow her and get it to cum.

"Oh baby," Lois said. "You're so hard. This is like a dream. Never even imagined I'd get to handle a cock this big. It's making me so wet..."

It was, too. Lois hated that about herself, as she rippled her body, so that her dripping cunny could rub against the swollen ridge on the underside of the demon's dong. Her chin rubbed against the sensitive little spot just beneath the urethra, and now the pre-cum was flowing readily. It ran in rivulets down the reporter's body, helped to lube her gyrations, and Lois couldn't help swallowing some of it.

Lois found herself strained to her limit, muscles cramping, sexual arousal building inside of her body as the demon marked her with its foul secretions.

"That's it, slut," Blaze said, and from the sound of her voice Lois knew the demon was getting off on the reporter's suffering as much as the physical stimulation. "Beg for it. Tell me you want it. Tell me you want to live."

"I want it," Lois gulped as the pre-cum flowed faster and thicker. Her whole body felt soaked with the slime, and she swore she saw little black tadpole-things wriggle in the hazy goo. "I need it. Please. Cum for me. Don't eat me. Cum for me. I need your jizz to live..."

With a swiftness that stunned the reporter, the cock pulled down. For one brief moment, Lois Lane stared into that maw that had threatened to swallow her.

The blaze splooge that burst out like a firehose nearly took the reporter's head off.

Lois Lane was slammed into the back wall of the tub by the **** of the blast, and Blaze's laughter was cruel as Lois gulped for air, and swallowed only jizz. Black spunk like crude oil fountained out of the enormous erection and hosed down the naked reporter. It was an unholy baptism...and when it finally ended, and Lois collapsed into the cum-filled tub, she felt dirty inside and out.

Blaze left her then. Left Lois alone with her shame and degradation. Yet not without a mark, a sign of the reporter's new allegiance. One that the numb reporter would only see as she stumbled to the bathroom sink and washed the cum from her eyes, to stare into the mirror...

...and saw her eyes had become completely white, without pupil or iris. Just like Blaze's.