Both

There was no more porn to distract her. The anesthetics or whatever they had dosed Lois within began to wear off, and she was aware of pain—like the dull numbness after dental work, combined with the terrible aching looseness of a full-hand vaginal exam. Lois grit her teeth as sensation slowly crawled back along her flesh, and things were still moving inside of her, abdomen distended around the massive thing that had spread her open.

Feeling oddly clear-headed, the reporter could now see how obscenely she was stretched out. She was amazed her pussy hadn't broken, that her hips weren't dislocated. The reporter had never imagined that her vagina could possibly encompass the whole of the thing that filled her, right up to her womb. There was a giddy rush, through the aches and pains, a bizarre sense of achievement:

Look what I can do. She thought. Most women have to give birth to experience something like this.

Then a sudden cramp spasmed through her middle. Lois fought a sudden rush of nausea, tasted bile in the back of her throat, pain so intense she wanted to puke.

The thing inside her began to withdraw.

It slid out, the way it came in: slowly, determinedly, a millimeter at a time, vibrating lightly all the while. Lois grimaced, feeling it tug at her insides as it withdrew. Her pussy was still numb, but that was fading quickly, and she hissed at the creeping tied of pain. It was worse than when the gigantic dildo had been forcing its way inside. Tears rose in her eyes as her pussy stubbornly clung to the slick sides of the retreating device, muscles painfully but uselessly clamped around it, trying to keep it inside of her.

In its passing, Lois felt hollowed out. She could feel the emptiness inside of her, like the raw, empty socket of a missing tooth. Her pussy felt wrecked...not just fucked out, as she had experienced once or twice before in her life from her more enthusiastic sexual escapades, but weirdly off. While sensation was returning, muscular control was not. Lois tried and failed to control her internal muscles, to squeeze or relax, but nothing responded to her.

It was odd, disconcerting...for a moment, the reporter had an image of her pussy replaced by an alien cunt, grafted onto her body but no longer a part of her. Pale, grey, animalistic flesh with thick, rubbery lips, more suited for a horse or a cow than a human being—but when she looked down at her quim, it was the same color it had always been, however obscenely distended it had become.

More than that...there was something...maybe it was the vibration, acting on Lois' sensitive cunt. Maybe it was just the motion as it traveled along her well-plowed furrow, touching on each singing nerve, scraping each sensitive nub and crease of her internal anatomy. Or maybe it was just her body responding with endorphins in reaction to the trauma her busted pussy had been put through.

By the time the rounded head pulled out of the reporter's dilated cervix, she was huffing, nipples hard, sweat pooling between her breasts. Her exhausted thighs spasmed weakly, unable to close or spread any farther, but her toes curled and uncurled, and her hands grasped the arms of the chair, her whole lower body twitching as each millimeter of the probe slowly withdrew, slick with Lois' juices.

She wanted...the reporter didn't know what she wanted. Part of her wanted to lean forward, to slam the gigantic dildo back inside her aching cunt. Another part just wanted it out of her, to let the healing begin. Mostly, she admitted to herself, she just wanted to get fucked.

It made her laugh through the tears. Her pussy had been stretched out of recognition, her womb reshaped, and yet the whole process had only left her with an itch she couldn't scratch, even as the escaping monster between her legs sent an electric thrill up her spine with every movement.

Lois wasn't climaxing. It was both painful and pleasant, as the last of the numbness faded and she became aware for the first time of the true extant of the strain inside her body. She had heard women talk about hysterectomies, how some of them had almost been cut in half, and this felt like that. Somewhere back in her mind, the reporter was amazed there wasn't blood gushing from her cunt lips, that her whole uterus didn't prolapse and fall out of her pussy, dragged out by the oversized retreating sex toy.

Instead...pain and pleasure mingled. It was like running that last lap of a marathon, when the runner's high mingled with the aching weariness of the muscles, when your legs burned and every part of you was tired and sore and hurt, but there was a kind of ecstatic giddiness that pushed you onward, past the point of exhaustion, until there was nothing left except putting one foot in front of the other, the whole world narrowed down to that simple mechanical movement. Though it hurt, you couldn't stop.

The reporter felt that now. Her pussy was a trooper...no, a supercunt. Stretched beyond the bounds of what earthly quim could endure, it was still stimulated by the passage of the retreating probe, the great domed head slipping now into the very end of her vaginal canal, pussy lips stretched taut around it...and Lois wondered if this really was what it felt like giving birth, to have something the size of a watermelon squeezed through a hole that normally would be a tight fit for a lemon.

Able to leap tall cocks with a single bound, the reporter joked, feeling exhaustion creep up on her. More powerful than a...a... Lois shuddered as the probe popped free, unable to complete the thought. She stared down at her empty pussy, and could only wonder: what now?