Epilogue: Pregnancy Hell

"Ugggh-aaaaghh-urrrgaaaagh!" Lois Lane's entire body, still in her pajamas, shook and heaved. Blaze hovered behind her and held the pregnant reporter's hair back. The demon's crimson cock crept out of her borrowed panties, and she wondered if there was something strange to get hard while her wife was puking her guts out into the toilet.

"Oh...G-g-great Caesar's g-g-ghost..." Lois gasped as she clung to the bowl. "Ugggh..."

Morning sickness with twelve turned out to be particularly egregious. The demon worried over her wife. Lois was growing thinner, could barely keep food down for a couple of hours, couldn't sleep through the night...and ever since the scarlet succubus had discovered the internet, she had begun to research the effects of constant vomiting. Acidic erosion of teeth, damage to the esophagus, dehydration...

"I could...help you...a little?" Blaze said.

The reporter raised dark, baggy eyes at the demon. A small pooch was already showing in the reporter's lower abdomen, accentuated by the recent weight loss.

"I thought you said...extra magic would be bad..." Lois managed.

Blaze rubbed her hands together. "I wasn't thinking magic, exactly. Just...um...demons don't have morning sickness...and we're stronger than humans, heal faster..."

"There has to be a catch," Lois said.

"Well, I'd have to inject you with some of my blood. And you...might be damned for all eternity," Blaze said. "Um, and you might experience some other physical effects. A little blood doesn't change your physical appearance, but the more you get the more likely you'll experience some reciprocal changes...the more you'll look like me."

Lois Lane stared up at her wife. In her natural form, Blaze looked like a human built on the scale of a skinned greyhound. Her frame was thin to the point of emaciation, wiry with muscle, bony and dangerous-looking. Fingers ended in ruby claws, clipped so that she didn't scratch Lois when they slept next to one another. The dark, oily mane of hair fell over her shoulders but added a leonine aspect to a face that was thin and wolfish, the pure white eyes without pupil or iris sometimes glowed with an inner light, the dark horns curled back from her brow often scratched the headboard of the bed they shared...and then there were the small breasts, perkier even than Lois' bare handful, the nipples pink and puffy like unripe strawberries, and down between her legs that glorious scarlet monster and the two bitchbreeder balls that hung inhumanly huge...and behind that, Lois knew, was a tight pink slit that tasted a little bit like cod liver oil...

Do I really want to give up my humanity just to not have to suffer from morning sickness? Lois Lane wondered.

Then her stomach churned. She barely managed to turn back to the toilet before a yellowish mouthful of bile exploded out of her, so hard that the reporter's ribs hurt and her vertebrae cracked. White-knuckled the pregnant reporter clutched the bowl and continued to wretch until her stomach was empty...or so she hoped...again...

Lois gasped, and choked out the words:

"Inject that shit into my veins."

Blaze let go of the reporter's hair and grabbed one of the reporter's unresisting arms. Without a word, the demon sliced her own palm with a thumbnail...and then did the same with Lois. The reporter barely hissed in pain...and then Blaze pressed the two palms together so that the cuts aligned.

"Blood of my blood...flesh of my flesh..." she whispered.

Lois hung there, her heart beat...loudly. She could feel it reverberate throughout her entire form. Each pulse drew more of the demon blood into her veins. Each pulse damned her further. Yet as the black blood flooded into her veins, the nausea faded...and something else filled her mind. A burning sensation. Every hair on her body seemed to stand on end. Every cell seemed to burst with energy. The reporter sucked in air, her chest suddenly tight...

...no, not her chest. Her clothes were tight on her. A sudden wave of claustrophobia struck Lois. The room seemed to have shrunk, and she could hear the cloth rip down the back of her pajama-top, buttons popped away from her chest as it grew wider, so her tits hung freely, the pajama pants split along the knees...and suddenly Lois closed her hand over Blaze's, which was so small compared to her own.

With an effort, the demon pulled her hand free...and Blaze found herself pressed against the wall as her wife, now about eight feet tall and otherwise normally proportioned, stared up at her.

"Well that was...unexpected," Blaze blinked. "How do you feel, sweetmeat?"

Lois tried to stand...the ceiling was too short, and she bumped her head. She loomed over the demon, who had once been a head taller than her. The pregnant woman's shoulders were wider as well. Her breasts still had their old proportion, the same half-teardrop shape, but on her new form they were proportionately larger...Lois didn't have a bra to fit them.

The tip of the red cock stood out from Blaze's panties. Lois Lane gave a strangely familiar half-smile as she thought about how her pussy was bigger now too.

"Oop!" Blaze managed as Lois picked her wife up and dragged her out of the bathroom and back to bed. "Sweetmeat, take it easy! We don't know what all effects the demon blood might have..."

The bed creaked and moaned as Lois, who now weighed twice what she had a few minutes ago, settled on top of the bed. The cock, which had once threatened to break her pussy whenever buried into the hilt, sank into her tremendous vagina easily and fit snugly. Not too big or too small. To the reporter, it felt just right. As Lois began to grind down on her wife's demonic dick, the corrupted reporter remembered a line from Milton:

"The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven..."

...and pinned beneath her, staring up as Lois Lane's breasts flopped, that small swelling in her pregnant wife's abdomen still clearly protuberant, Blaze wondered if she had given her too much demon blood...and then reflected, as the great cunny clamped tight and the demon squeezed her wife's thighs with her hands, that maybe a little damnation was worth it.