End: How Do I Not Fuck This Up?

Congratulations, Blaze, the demonic dickgirl thought to herself. You did it. You won. You knocked up Lois Lane.

She basked in the post-coital afterglow. The naked reporter was curled on her side, facing the demon, using Blaze's shoulder for a pillow. The demon barely had to extend her supernatural senses to know that soon, conception would take place. The possible futures were changing, probabilities shifting as the odds of Lois not getting pregnant ticked downwards towards zero.

Blaze allowed herself a small smile of triumph.

Then a thought intruded.

Wait...so I get Lois Lane pregnant...then what? The idea troubled her for some reason. I mean obviously, Superman will find out at some point. That'll be a blow against the hated Kryptonian, when he finds out that...I...impregnated his girlfriend.

Unease settled in Blaze's stomach, as though the intestines were knotted together. She turned her head to look at the dark-haired beauty that was drooling slightly on her arm.

Of course, I guess that means I wouldn't get to fuck her again. I mean, Superman would rip me in half, and even then he might...I mean would he abandon her if she was pregnant? He's such a goody-two-shoes, he'd probably marry her and raise the child as his own. Which means he'd fuck her.

The unease grew. Lois's left hand rested on Blaze's stomach, and the dickgirl carefully reached out to stroke the soft, fine hairs on the human woman's fingers. The demon felt a profound sense of sadness at the prognostication.

Maybe I could erase her memory...or toy with her emotions. ****? Bind her to me tightly, so that she's trapped and can't get away. Then she would be my plaything, my little fucktoy, mine to use and **** for as long as I wish, to discard when she begins to bore me. Let the Kryptonian have my used jizzrag of a whore! That would...that would be a fitting...

Lois stirred and turned. Her left thigh came up as she shifted to cling and press against the naked demon's warm body. Blaze's brain went momentarily blank as her cock became trapped under the reporter's thigh, the arm slid up and over the demon's shoulder, the head nuzzled against Blaze's cheek.

A cold sweat broke out on Blaze's brow.

...I can't fuck this up. How do I not fuck this up? I want to hold her and protect her and tap her ass like it's never been tapped before all at the same time. She's going to be pregnant with my kid and I want to be there and fuck her right until she gives birth and oh Lilith's tits I think I'm in love...

Such were Blaze's thoughts, as Lois Lane dreamed. Black sperm, born from hellspawned testes, surrounded the reporter's egg...and with a terrible, silent struggle, one slipped through. Probability waves collapsed. Timelines diverged. Dawn shed its light over the newly impregnated reporter...and Lois Lane's night out came to an end where both Lois and Blaze had already made some serious and life-changing decisions.

Okay...don't panic, Blaze thought to herself. When she wakes up, offer to eat her pussy. Women like that, right? Right. Perfect plan. Can't fail. Right?