Inside and Out

The cockhead squirmed inside the reporter's pussy...she frowned around the terrible organ as she felt something hot and sticky like fresh tar ooze out of her slit. Brought ooze-covered fingers up before her eyes, staring in horror at the black mess the clutched onto them...and then, as suddenly and swiftly as it had pushed through her, it began to withdraw.

The reporter heard heavy wet drops plop on the ground as the cockhead pulled free of her slit...and she could feel the sticky load still inside of her. The whole length of the inhuman price began to retreat throughout her body, pulling past her lips as it retracted back into the slot in the Black Door...and as she felt the head plop inside her burning, violated rectum, the reporter could still feel it spurting that oily, greasy, sticky foulness...and knew that it was still cumming, still leaving a trail of dark slime in her anus...

...and throughout the rest of her body.

Lois Lane wiped her tears with the heel of her clean hand as the cock slowly un-fucked her, leaving behind the remnant of liquid filth...and she could feel it, a how, stickiness in her ass, a kind of oozing presence in her cunny. She remembered how earthworms would digest the dirt they burrowed through, and wondered how much of that slime was cum and how much of it was he undigested food in her own body, churned up and transformed by the demon's touch, now to anoint her...but the worst was yet to come.

Because Lois could feel the head as it slowly pulled through her body, and long before it reached her throat she could imagine it, the sticky slime-trail it would leave, spurting foulness over her tongue, clinging to her mouth and teeth...and it was worse, waiting for it to happen, feeling the cock pull back ceaselessly past her lips, than if it had all happened at once.

With her sticky, filth-covered hand, the reporter reached back and explored her ass...expecting pain, violation, damage. Yet as her fingers pressed against the sphincter...even pushing into it, lubed by the sticky nastiness on her hand...Lois was surprised that she wasn't really sore at all, back there. She explored for some minutes as the cock reversed its travels, leaving that line of goo inside her body, marking its trail, before she realized she was playing with her own ass, fingers knuckle-deep, cheeks burning, rivulets of hot juice running down from her pussy.

Then it was in her throat.

Lois could smell it now, the cock...and it smelled like cum, like bleach and overripe cheese and stale piss. The head was bigger than the rest of it, and it almost felt like it stretched her throat as it pulled back, leaving a slimy trail that reminded Lois of having the flu or the cold, her stomach slightly nauseous from the goo it was now trying to digest.

It burst forth in her mouth...and now Lois could taste it as it covered her tongue, and it was salty and bitter and savory and not at all as nasty and disgusting as she though it must be.

With a relief, Lois opened her mouth wide so that the cock could depart...and was totally unprepared when a liquid spurt, like the jet of ink from a squid, caught her full in the face, catching her totally surprised...and the reporter, blind and covered with jizz, could not help but laugh.

Silently, the Black Door opened...and a warm hand caught Lois Lane's own, and pulled the reporter to her feet, and forward.