Bite Her Balls

Though Lois Lane felt the burning need of her addiction, she also knew that she finally had Blaze in a compromising position—and was prepared to take what little action she could, in the circumstances.

She opened her jaw as wide as she could. The fat, swollen orbs of the testicles shifted to between her teeth. Slowly, surely, the reporter began to close her jaw—careful to trap the testes between the ascending bottom teeth and the resting upper teeth.

It was like holding a pair of sweaty hard-boiled eggs in your mouth. When all you could taste was the salty, earthy sweat on the dickgirl's balls, when all you could smell was their raw cock pressing into your nose, all you could see was that crimson shaft before your eyes. When you were drooling at the very thought of the sperm-factories trapped in your mouth, so close and yet unavailable.

The testicle-sack in her mouth tensed as Blaze suddenly became aware of her predicament.

"No teeth," the demonic dickgirl warned. But it was too late.

Lois closed her jaw firmly. The bite strength of the human jaw was 162 pounds per square inch. More than enough to rupture a normal human testicle...but this was a demon.

The reporter felt something burst beneath her teeth. The demon's scream, shifting higher through the registers, would warm her on cold nights. Her front teeth met on the chicken-skin of the demon's scrotum, the testicles in their sack a soft mush filling her cheeks.

For a moment, giddy with a sudden rush of endorphins, Lois considered just biting the demon's balls off. Sure, she would probably regenerate. But a part of her really wanted to do it. The source of the seed she craved was right there in her mouth. All the better to just...bite it off entirely. To take that from this domineering dickgirl. Show her what it was like to be a bitch.