The Hose

"Follow me. On your hands and knees."

Bloated stomach lurching beneath her, the topless report was **** to crawl, her eyes on Blaze's scarlet heels. Lois Lane stifled a burp. Her knees hit the stone flooring. Palms ached. Stomach strained painfully. She had never eaten this much, and then what had happened after...the demon had let a trickle into the reporter's mouth as her crimson cock had retreated, just so Lois could taste it. Let a dribble fall over the reporter's lower lip.

Inside her head, Lois tried to fight the commands...but it was like punching shadows. The demon's will was an oppressive thing that lay on the reporter's brain like a heavy blanket. Fighting it almost made it worse. Lois could feel herself getting mentally tuckered out. Sometimes she could put a hand wrong...even pause herself entirely...but the moment she focused on one thing, the rest of her body moved in accordance to Blaze's will...and before long, they arrived at their destination.

The room was a cramped cell; no doors, just three walls barely three feet apart, and a ceiling only about five feet high. A thin hose hung down from a hole in the ceiling, and there was a kind of bench with a hole in it, which lay over a hole in the stone floor. The reporter's nose wrinkled as faint scents came to her...the last time she had smelled anything like that was an outhouse, during a drought. Not too offensive, just the accumulated scent of poos past.

There were manacles hanging from short lengths of chain attached to the wall. Blaze lifted her up, as though the reporter weighed nothing at all...and for a moment, Lois squirmed and struggled in that grip. She ignored the groaning of her stomach, nails scratching at the demon's scarlet hide, to no avail. With pathetic ease, Blaze clamped a manacle around the reporter's right wrist, and then her left. Lois kicked, her buttocks touching the bench. The demon **** a collar chained to the back of the cell around the reporter's neck, and snapped it into place.

One swipe of the demon's claws tore off what was left of the reporter's costume. Lois pushed her knees together, afraid suddenly of being ****...felt very exposed because of the hole beneath her. Except Blaze didn't seem to care for that. Instead, she reached for the hose...stared Lois in the eye...and commanded her:

"Open."

The reporter's jaw fell open...and with mounting horror, Lois watched and felt as the slim tube was fed through her open mouth, and then down her throat. One misstep, the reporter knew, and the tube could enter one of her lungs...or perforate her esophagus...and bile rose in the reporter's throat as the tube passed into her over-stuffed stomach...and then paused.

Bound as she was, Lois could not disgorge the tube, or take it out on her own. She could not even fully stand up, even though her legs were free, because of how tight and cramped the cell was. Blaze stood back, with that little half-smile on her scarlet lips.

"This tube goes to the kitchens. Six times a day, a fine puree will slide down into your gullet. You will sleep and shit here. No one will touch you. No exercise, nothing to do but let the food slide through your throat. The calories will mount. Your mind will dull with boredom. And at the end of the week we'll see how our little piggy is doing. By the end of the month, I suspect, you'll be begging me to fuck your fat ass. Spread those piggy lips and flashing that pink cunt to whatever cock passes, just to relieve the boredom."

Lois Lane glared daggers at the demon. Hate, bright and burning, like nothing she had ever known filled the reporter's entire being...and Blaze saw that and laughed.

The reporter could still hear her laughing as the demon left, leaving Lois to her fate.