Epilogue: Lois Lane Can't Fit Through Doors

Out in public, arm in arm with Blaze, with a sheet tied around the reporter's waist as an impromptu skirt. With an ass that couldn't fit through standard doors. Lois Lane's cheeks burned every time she had to turn sideways. When she saw the people stare at her as she walked past. The unbelieving glances of the women with the measuring tapes as they tried encompass her hips.

Normal stores were out. They ended up in the stores for bigger women. Except that the women with asses and thighs that came near to Lois Lane's size were four, five hundred pounds. They drove through the store in scooters and wore moo-moos. Every store they left empty-handed, Lois Lane's heart wilted a little. She was a freak. A big-assed sideshow attraction.

Eventually, in exasperation, they ended up in a custom dress shop. The woman who ran it was Chinese, about seventy, with the wizened face that had seen everything. She was brisk as she took the reporter's measurements, and then they talked styles, fabrics...everything except price. Blaze had, it appeared, an account.

"Three weeks," the dressmaker said. "We can deliver, but you should come in for a fitting."

A hole seemed to open in the reporter's stomach. She couldn't go out in public without new clothes. She'd be stuck in her apartment for three weeks.

Lois Lane was quiet on the way back to her apartment. She said nothing as Blaze picked up pizza and beer along the way. As she turned sideways to get in her own door. At the kitchen table, Blaze pulled out two chairs, one for each ass cheek, for Lois to sit at the table...and the chairs creaked ominously as the reporter settled her capacious ass into them.

"I've ruined my life," Lois said.

"You have not," the demon said. "Take a few weeks off! Tell your boss you're quarantined. You can relax, and when the clothes come in you'll be a new woman. We'll get takeout, watch movies, and fuck. You'll see."

Lois cracked open a beer. She had regrets.

An hour later, she had more regrets.

"Blaze?" Lois said from the bathroom. "I uh...I need your help with something."

The toilet was too small. The bathroom simply hadn't been designed for someone of Lois Lane's new dimensions. The reporter trembled as she sought to realize the logistics. The demon saw the problem immediately.

Blaze shrugged out of her human guise, like a dog shaking after a bath. She snapped one pair of red fingers, and the bathroom just...stretched. The door widened. The shower and toilet expanded, and to her left the wall moved away to expose a jacuzzi wide enough for Lois to sit in with ease. As the sink drew back toward the retreating wall, a bidet snapped into existence, the metal piping digging into the black tile floor.

Lois blinked. "What...what about the neighbor on the other side of the wall?"

The scarlet succubus looked smug. "Don't worry about it. They'll never even notice."

There was a hose connected to the shower now. Conveniently placed so that Lois could clean herself out...which she did.

Clean and naked, she stepped into her bedroom. Her titanic ass wobbled with each step.

You've made your bed, Lois Lane, she told herself. Now lie in it.

The reporter belly-flopped onto the bed. Legs spread, ass in the air, chin straight out. She felt like a beached whale.

"Blaze?" she said.

"Yes, sweetmeat?" Blaze said from the kitchen, where she'd put what was left of the pizza away.

"I need you to come fuck my ass," Lois said. "I don't know for how long. Just keep going until I tell you to stop."

She did not have to tell the demonic dickgirl twice.

Blaze pulled open the reporter's massive ass cheeks like Moses parting the waters. Lube drizzled down into an ass-cleavage like the Grand Canyon. something hard and hot poked at the reporter's anus...and Lois welcome the bit of tightness and discomfort as the demon's dick pressed itself inside...and Blaze let out a sigh of utter contentment, as though she would never experience heaven, but she could experience Lois Lane's ass, and that was close enough.

She hugged the medicine-ball-sized glutes. Pushed forward hard and fast, right from the beginning, just to watch the cheeks clap and ripple. Lois Lane lay there as her asshole burned hotter and hotter, the head spreading out from the point of contact...because this, she knew, was her life now.