End: Lois Becomes A Very Fertile Half-Demon

One by one, the pills in the bag disappeared. The heat built inside of Lois, a fever that seemed to grow at the core of her being. Strange aches began to make themselves apparent in her body and limbs, and the headache deepened. Yet Lois was locked in some terrible cycle now. Chew, sip, swallow.

She squirmed on the bench, her skin feeling too tight. The pounding in her head increased, grew sharper. Her tongue seemed to thicken in her mouth, and there was a terrible awareness of how close that cock was... Lois Lane's stomach gurgled, and the reporter was unaware if that was from nausea or a different sort of hunger. Her vision swam, the darkness of the shadows appearing now incredibly sharp and defined, the grain of the table, the skin of her hands...

Lois scratched at the back of her hand. Her skin felt dry and itchy, and she'd almost emptied the bottle of water. She was about to ask Angelica to get her another when the reporter felt the dead skin balled up beneath her nails. The reporter looked down to clean them...and paused, suddenly breathless.

The back of her hand, where she had scratched, was pink. But she wasn't bleeding. The reporter rubbed her thumb over the hand, the pale skin flaking away, and the new skin underneath, perfect and unblemished, was the unnatural pink of a cherry blossom. Her nails were longer than they had been, sharper, and the same pale shade of pink. As Lois lifted her hands, she saw that the growing nails had actually burst through the skin, that it was peeling all around them, like skin did after a sunburn...

In worried fascination, Lois picked at the skin. A long pale strip of it peeled easily off her arm. The reporter resisted a sudden urge to eat it. The itching all over her body was getting impossible. And her head...she reached up to scratch at her brow...and fingers dumbly began to poke and prod at the two hard lumps there, which had not been there before, that came to a soft point which was just threatening to break the skin.

Pills momentarily forgotten, Lois gave in to a sudden fit of scratching and peeling. Her longer nails scraped like claws, skin singing as it was exposed to air. The reporter rubbed away the few stubborn patches of dead skin, but kept on peeling, seeing more and more of the flawless pink self emerge. The pain in her head was fading now, lost in the giddiness of exploration the pale detritus of her older self falling about her in dusty piles.

Lois threw her shoulders back and stretched, bones cracking, and her breasts broke through the old skin like caterpillars emerging from cocoons. The teardrop-shaped bare handfuls were swollen now, heavier and more prominent, the nipples puffy and pink as unripe strawberries, dotted with little bumps that almost looked like pimples, but when Lois reached up to squeeze them—a cry of primal, animal pleasure escaped from her peeling lips—golden droplets oozed from them, and a sudden pressure that Lois had only barely been aware of was released, the milk dripping down off the jutting, erect nipples, as big now as Lois lane's thumbs.

Pink lights still glowed beneath the reporter's abdomen...and as she peeled off the skin over her slightly bloated belly, which now stood out in a slight paunch, she saw a darker pink shape there, like a birthmark...or perhaps a tattoo...of a heart crossed with a pentagram crossed with some primitive womb-symbol, strangely arcane and appropriate.

The reporter looked up at Blaze...who stood forth now in all of her glory, skin as red as blood, those glowing testicles pulsing, dark horns curling over her brow, pure white eyes glowing faintly from within. As Lois stared at her, she felt her pussy throb in automatic response, a sudden flood of fluid bursting forth from her cunt, and she swore that she could feel her ovaries inside of her pulse in time with Angelica's testes...only it felt like there were more than just the two...

"I think...it worked," Lois said. Her tongue...longer and thicker now...pushed out from lips that felt plump and swollen. Scraped over her face, more of the old Lois Lane falling away. Like a snake or lobster that shed their old shell, to allow for new growth.

Angelica Blaze snuffled the air. An animal purr gurgled in her throat.

"You're beautiful Lois...so beautiful...that's just one thing..."

Blood-red hands grabbed pink arms and effortlessly lifted Lois onto the table. The demonic reporter's nostrils flared, brain processing new information. Her legs opened on their own to show the wet, drooling cunt, which was now swollen and puffy, the hairless pink slit so large that Lois felt she could easily fit her entire hand in there, the clitoris almost lost in a deep chasm... Her pink claws scratched at her inner thighs, showing off more of the cherry-blossom colored skin.

"I'm not pregnant yet." Lois finished. She could tell, now. Some internal instinct, some supremely sensitive combination of taste and scent and body awareness told her that whatever seed and eggs were swimming inside her reinforced and augmented womb, they had not yet implanted. New muscles flexed, new ovaries released their burdens.

"But I am...very...fertile."

The reporter's ass was on the edge of the table now. Blaze, always taller than the reporter, loomed over her. The hard cock, with all its strange nubs and soft spikes, resting on a pussy as plump as a pillow.

"I should warn you," Blaze said, her tongue flicking out to taste the air. "This demon mates for life. There's still a chance...however small...that you could turn back now. Zatanna or one of those other magic-types could reverse your transformation..."

Lois reached up and grabbed those horns. With surprising strength, she pulled Angelica's face down to hers.

"If you don't impregnate me right now," the reporter growled. "I'll climb onto that cock and fuck your babies into my belly myself!"

Long tongues slithered and coiled around each other, like snakes mating. The spiked head of the crimson cock pushed into Lois Lane's demonic pussy...and the reporter's pink legs folded around the scarlet ass, urging Blaze deeper into the volcanic confines of her cunt, the heat inside her body now like a raging furnace...the perfect temperature to ensure demonic conception.

Cock-spines scraped against supersensitive nodes within the reporter's puss. New rings of muscles constricted about that rigid phallus, stroking and guiding it deeper within. In the deep cleft, the reporter's clitoris—now three clits, clustered close together, rubbing against each other, sensitive to even the slightest motion—grew erect as Blaze pressed her hard abs into the soft pooch of the reporter's lower belly.

Hot testicles pressed against the reporter's ass like a bunch of grapes, two dozen sperm factories busily sending their dark seed off to where it gathered, pressure growing within Blaze's body with every stroke. Crimson hands squeezed pink tits, sending tiny streams of milk onto Angelica's smaller chest.

As they neared the climax, Lois broke their kiss. Though she couldn't see it, if Lois could see her own eyes, she would have seen that the violet irises were stretched wide so the whites could hardly be seen, the dark pupils elongated like those of a goat or an octopus.

"Will you still fuck me like this," she said. "When I'm big and fat?"

A long scarlet tongue licked across the demonic reporter's lips.

"You," Blaze declared. "Are all that I find sexy in this world now."

Red cock buried itself hard in pink cunt. Their eyes met, staring with frantic need into each other's faces as the cock, buried to the hilt, swelled until Lois felt her quim was stretched taut and about to break. A hundred million black sperm burst forth in a black torrent, a virile army released for a single purpose...and the doors to Lois Lane's dark chapel opened wide, the cervix opening to admit her demonic lover's seed into her womb, where her eggs waited for only the greatest to penetrate their cell walls.

Blaze held Lois in her arms, cock buried there like the sword in the stone, waiting for the proper moment to be withdrawn. Strange muscles worded inside of Lois, a false vacuum that sucked the sticky Satanic semen from Angelica's urinal track more effectively than any blowjob in the world. Then, and only then did the cervix cinch shut, an impenetrable fortress against all other comers.

"That wasn't just pillow talk, was it?" Lois said, as her body slowly relaxed. "Because I think I'm really pregnant now, or will be soon."

"I meant it," Blaze whispered. "Every word of it."

Lois Lane wanted to believe it. Wanted to hope that as strange as this transformation was, that it would last...and that so would her relationship with Blaze. That her babies would be born healthy. Yet a niggling doubt remained...a mother's concern for her children, a woman's worry for the faithfulness of her mate...and as Blaze held her tight, Lois Lane's pink hand, with its claw-like nails, reached out to the half-empty bag. There were still a few left...

What could it hurt?