Lois Lane's Ankles Behind Her Head

Short and thicc as the new Lois Lane might have been, but she was at least limber. That was a good thing, because the reporter's legs were bent back until her tits were pressed between her knees, and Lois leaned forward, grabbing the frame of the mirror for support as she crossed her ankles behind her head.

In the mirror, she could clearly see her skinny counterpart, the pretty pussy grotesquely stuffed by crimson cock, a pair of blood-red balls bouncing against the reflection's ass with every thrust. Her pussy drooled over the dick, so that each ass-slapping bounce caused a drip to fly off and hit the floor.

Lois Lane jeered at her other self. The skinny, prudish reporter. She wanted to see more. Wanted to see that cock scummy with cum, the pussy unable to hold the virile load that would turn her from the sluttiest reporter at the Daily Planet to a knocked-up slut.

"This is what she wanted," the demon whispered in Lois Lane's ear. "You are her innermost desires made flesh. All that she could have been, but was not. Now she is trapped there...she, the pale reflection...and you will be real..."

The slutty Lois Lane narrowed her violet eyes. Drank in the expression of the horrified face in the mirror. Those eyes just like hers, seeming to plead with her counterpart. The stuck-up-bitch, the prude, whose pussy wasn't good enough for a hard pounding.

Being a slut worked for me! Lois thought, looking at her counterpart...but a sudden thought furrowed her brow. Hasn't it?

The idea gnawed at her for a moment, even as the demon picked up the pace. Her less-skanky reflection had never dreamed of being stupid. Lois Lane's brain worked desperately, even as her pussy squeezed and squelched.

If she's the real one...if she's gone...then what will I be? The whorish reporter thought to herself as she stared at her doppelganger in the mirror. The demon doesn't care. I'm just a hole for her crimson cock. It's the other one she's fucking with...I'm just a means to an end.

The scarlet succubus began to huff. Her balls flapped in the air, her sharp chin pressed against the top of the shortstack reporter's skull...and that was what gave Lois her idea.

Still gripping the frame of the mirror, the reporter gave a sudden tug—and her reflection skewed suddenly as the frame toppled forward, the heavy glass crashing against the demon's skull...and the sound of the shattering glass seemed so loud that the world itself exploded.