Lois Freaks Out A Little

"Oh shit," the reporter said as Blaze's words sank in. She stared down at her pussy, still wrapped around that dick.

"Oh fuck," Lois said as she touched her stomach, imagining fourteen babies in there. The most she'd ever heard of any woman carrying was eight, and that was a nightmare. By the end of it, the Octomom's stomach looked like she was carrying a five-year-old. Multiples pregnancies were incredibly risky to both children and mothers.

"I'm going to die," she whispered, and started to shake uncontrollably. "My babies are going to die!"

"Lois? Look, it's okay. It's going to be okay." The dickgirl ran her hands up and down the reporter's thighs as Lois started to lock up, shivering uncontrollably, her muscles freezing in place.

"It's not okay," Lois screeched, voice high-pitched. "I'm pregnant with fourteen, my body can't handle it, I'm going to get stretch marks and the babies will be underweight and I won't be able to breastfeed them all and they're going to have to cut me in half to get them and they'll be born prematurely and I can't...I can't..."

She could see herself, bedridden, pinned beneath a belly as big as she was, breasts like a pair of half-deflated basketballs, sagging milk sacks where her pretty tits used to be. Ugly red stretch marks rippling down the side, forms squirming within. Feel the pain of the contractions hit her, reaching for the phone but unable to move. Sharp pains as her labor began, and she was all alone, no one to help her.

Tears filled her vision. "I don't want them to die, I don't...I..."

"Look, I know this seems bad, but I can help," Angelica Blaze assured her. "All we need is a little more magic and we can...fix this."

Lois stared down, utterly frozen. Fear, lust, and maternal instincts warred inside her brain.

"Fix it how?" she said softly, desperation and resignation in her voice. Then her eyes hardened.

"And I swear to God, if you say abortion I will tear your dick off at the root."