Try Psychology

It was a battle of wills, and Lois knew it. The reporter **** a grin onto her face. She always did like a challenge.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Lois said coolly. "Is that what you asked the other women? Did you seduce them into your bed, hoping they would beg for your baby batter?"

The shot hit home. The dark eyes were gone, and staring out from Blaze's head were pure white eyes, with no pupil or iris, glowing from within. It was like staring into two eye-shaped holes into an infinite white space. Yet the ribbed cock never stopped its achingly slowly descent and ascent.

"Is it just a desire to be worshipped?" The reporter pressed. With an effort of will, she let go of the sheets and brought her arms up to run along the dickgirl's sides, counting the ribs, working around her own legs and their straining muscles to find those small breasts. "Or do you want to be loved? No, I don't think so. Who could love someone like you?"

Blaze bared her teeth.

"It's a nice try, but it isn't going to work." Blaze said. "You'll beg. You're not like the others. They couldn't handle what I wanted to give them, they were afraid of the consequences. But you're different, you're..."

Lois's fingers clamped down on the dickgirl's nipples. She could feel the shiver run through Blaze's body, but she never stopped.

"You need to come to terms with the fact that I'm not going to beg for your baby," Lois said harshly. "If you got blue-balled by all those bitches that wouldn't let ou impregnate them, then guess what: it's not happening with me, either. So if you really want to fuck me, you're going to have to do it yourself!"

There was something in the reporter's tone...a resolve, a will of iron...against which all of Blaze's teasing was as the slightest of breezes. Shocked by her words, the demon paused, balls deep in the reporter's pussy....and remained stock still, even as Loissqueezed and played with the dickgirl's hard little nipples, twiddling them between thumb and forefinger.

"You're right," Blaze said with a sigh. Her head hung down, so that the long black hair brushed against the reporter's face. "I suppose we'll have to do this the other way."

Which was when Lois Lane realized, with a start, that she might have just talked herself out of the frying pan and into the fire.