Nine Months in Hell

Time was a slippery thing, Lois Lane realized. She wandered through the days and the memories flowed into one another like a dream, coming into super-focus in the moment and then receding away, so that yesterday might be a thousand years ago—it was always the now, always and forever the present, with the past a string of vague horrors and the future inconstant, uncertain. Only one thing let her know time was passing at all:

Her growing belly.

Lois Lane wore no clothes in hell, nor did Blaze ever offer her any. It seemed to the reporter that she had asked for some, but they always fell on deaf ears, and as the weeks wore on and her formerly flat tummy began to bulge, the morning sickness passing, she grew less shy about covering herself whenever one or more of the demons and visitors saw her nude and gravid form.

When she had begun to show, the demon placed her in a golden collar, a chain dangling between her golden breasts. The shemale succubus never tugged it hard, but she liked the feel of it in her hand, to hold and play with the links while sitting on her throne hearing the business of hell...and sometimes to yank gently as she took Blaze from behind.

At first their lovemaking had been private, sensual, Lois spending most of the days in Blaze's private chambers. The demon did not grow rougher, but she did grow more—demanding. Lois did her best to match her sexual appetites, opening herself up to new forms of play...but a colder shudder had run through her when she awoke one morning to find Blaze finishing within her, having taken the limp and exhausted woman in her sleep. She had spent the day unable to bring herself to wash up, thighs sticky and wet, and the demon had come to her several times after that the same day, always shoving her cock deep inside before blowing another load of spunk into the overflowing cunt.

"I like you like that," the demon had hissed, grasping Lois' left cheek and giving it a squeeze. "Stay like that, for a while. For me."

Lois had said nothing, only cradled her growing belly—already sticking out, the seven babies within growing quickly. And from that time forward, her pussy had become a sodden mess, splattered with dried black cum, an obscene Jackson Pollack painting with her cunt as a canvas. A human can get used to many things, over time, but Blaze always found some new way to surprise her, some new little task to **** her. Once she had gone in circles around the room, licking up the cum that had dripped from her fresh-battered pussy onto the floor, and Blaze had watched, at intervals "topping her up," the reporter on her hands and knees as the demon mounted her, depositing a fresh load so that the entertainment wouldn't end, not for hours...

The pregnant reporter couldn't remember when she had started seeing it in her food.

She had begun to count on the wall, as prisoners do, but there was no sun, no calendar. By her estimation, it was perhaps the sixteenth week—her belly already bulging, unmistakably pregnant, lower back screaming. Her breasts hadn't grown much, and Lois was wondering if she would be one of those women that went through a pregnancy and her tits would hardly grow at all, but Blaze kept telling her to eat, that for the babies sake she needed to put on weight...and that was when Lois noticed the familiar glaze over every dish. Even the pomegranates were drenched in salty black sperm.

Lois ate it. Blaze seldom ate, but she would watch Lois eat. Watch the golden fork stab into the salad, the salty black drizzle over every leaf, and bring it up to her mouth. Watch her own jizz drip from the corner of Lois mouth, to splatter against the curve of her belly. Sometimes Lois ate messily, just because it seemed to get Blaze excited. The demon would move like a lion about to strike, creeping on all fours, cock hard and ready between her legs, and Lois would assume the position, elbows on the table, legs spread so her sperm-soaked cunt would be ready to receiver her demon lover once again...not that Blaze needed the invitation, but it was easier than fighting her.

She had never really ceased to fight, to protest, but every time ended in defeat, concession. Lois was powerless and they both knew it. Blaze seemed to enjoy provoking her, in little ways. Lois estimated she was in her twenty-fourth week when she brought someone else into their games.

Blaze was mounted on her squat golden throne, and Lois was mounted on her, squatting on the swollen shaft as it stuffed her asshole, forbidden from touching her own clit...and two supplicants had come, human men, one white and one black, stroking their little dicks.

Not little, Lois realized in a haze, suddenly conscious of being naked and having sex beneath those knowing eyes. Average sized. Six inches, maybe. But toys compared to Blaze's prick.

Because the demon enjoyed gradually growing her cock, forcing Lois' holes wider and wider, a little at a time. Now the reporter bucked and heaved, feeling the fat crimson cock splitting her ass open as wide about its thickest part as her own forearm, and these two men...

A warm rain splattered against her stomach. They were jerking off to her, eyes fixed on the bloated belly. When they had finished, pathetic pricks drooping, Blaze took Lois' wrists and guided her hands to the swollen orb of her distended abdomen. The reporter got the hint, massaging the fresh, sticky white cum into the skin of the hard dome.

"They wished to pay tribute to your beauty," Blaze whispered in her ear. "Perhaps we will let more do that, hmm?"

Lois had felt her heart sink, even as her buttocks touched the demon's hard abs, the thick cock spreading her asshole so wide she was afraid it would snap—but knowing from experience that it wouldn't. Blaze would not suffer Lois to hurt, physically. No more than required for their play.

There were others. The pregnant reporter remembered how she had shook, belly hanging just an inch above the ground as she stood on hands and knees. Strange, rough hands spread her cheeks, found the asshole there. Blaze was on her throne, stroking her own mammoth scarlet shaft as she watched Lois' asshole easily swallow the invader.

The human prick sank in until the hairy balls touched her ass, and through all the shame and revulsion what really got Lois was how unsatisfying it was. Too small, the pounding fuck full of energy but the warm drizzle inside her ass just a drop compared to the ocean of jizz that Blaze had already poured into her.

By the thirty-second week, Lois was having trouble moving. Her belly was too large, and she stared ruefully in the mirrors of polished bronze and obsidian, to see the outsized belly on her thin frame. She had added weight...her hips widening, ass growing, curves softening, nipples darkening, the dark line creeping up her belly...her stomach that stood out in front of her, belly button popped, heavy and awkward.

How foolish I was, she thought, as she lay on her side, sucking on a stranger's cock as Blaze slowly broke the crust of dried cum over her cunt, the demon pushing her inhuman cock between Lois' legs for the first time that day. To think I could ever grow back.

There were servants here...eyeless woman-things with long, sensitive tongues and sweeping horns, hands devolved into blunt-tipped claws. Their slits were naturally hairless, and opened to salmon-colored depths filled with sweet nectar, that they would press on her whenever her tongue was idle. They crowded her especially as the days got close, helping to turn her in bed, to wash her when Blaze ordered it, to bring food to her mouth and carry the waste away, to hold her down when the lights dimmed and the suitors lined up in single file to pay homage to the black miracle between her legs...

Lois was **** to watch the demonesses stroke each man hard before he clambered onto the pregnant woman's bed and **** himself between her legs. Some of them grabbed her belly, but most preferred to hold her thighs, buttocks clenching, faces twisted in lust as they spent their pathetic spray of cum inside of her, withdrawing to make way for the next, until Lois was sore and raw down there.

Blaze would come to her then, cock swollen and magnificent, at least fourteen inches long now and thick, and even when Lois thought her cunt was numb and could not feel anymore, Blaze would take her like she had that first time, so many weeks and months ago in the filthy bathroom of the club, her swollen balls slapping against Lois' swollen ass, hands gripping those meatier thighs, the hard taut dome of her stomach, those white-on-white eyes staring straight into Lois' own as she unleashed a torrent of dark seed that seemed to washed all the poor human spunk away.

Lois feared what would come next. What new degradation that Blaze had in store for her, wondered how much lower she could go...and then the pain had spasmed through the reporter's body. She had been lying in bed for days, unable to do anything except eat and sleep, condition too delicate anymore for the nightly trains, and now Blaze was sitting there on the bed, the golden chain in one hand, the other slowly petting Lois Lane's dark hair.

"It's time," the demon whispered. Lois rolled her head back, eyes dropping instinctively toward Blaze's lap.

The succubus had an erection. It looked even bigger than before. A muscular toward of cock, squat and broad at the base, the tip pinkish-purple, flat and flared, weeping in a thin grey precum.

"They're coming."