She Begged For Relief

"The woman with the red shoes danced until her body grew thin. Nothing was beneath her need, and no matter how tired she was, her shoes always danced her to the next cock to suck. In time, she begged a woodcutter to cut off her feet, so she could be free of her curse."

Claws scraped lightly against the reporters skin, leaving red scratch marks down across her breasts, her ass, the back of her shoulders...and still she humped the cock, unable to cease her endless fucking, waiting for Angelica Blaze to finish her story.

"He did, for a price...and she waggled on the ground, the handle of his axe jutting out of her ass, her feet lopped off at the ankles. On all fours like a dog she crawled to the church...but the red shoes, her feet still in them danced in front of her, and the low men of the town came to shower her with sperm, marking her as a public spectacle beyond all salvation..."

Lois openly wept now, imagining what depths she herself might be **** to. What would she even do if Blaze wasn't here? Probably try to cram her pussy with every vaguely-phallic object in the house. The heat in her loins was unbearable, the **** urge to fuck drawing her aching hips on and off the cock with increasing fury.

"...until she prayed. She prayed and begged not for forgiveness, but for surcease. And an angel heard her promise, a fallen angel who wandered the world waiting for lost souls...and promised her to restore her feet and remove the red shoes in exchange for her service, for three years and three days."

The demon smiled, showing fangs.

"It was a carnal service, but the woman's days were her own. She could live her life, in a far-off town where no-one had known her with the red shoes. Her belly swelled and she found a husband, made a respectable life for herself. And at night when the angel called to her, she rose from her bed to do the devil's work; she seduced the married men of the town and corrupted them, instructed the young women in the rites and arts of worship, attended at the birth of bastards and the deaths of prostitutes when they made their dying confessions."

Lois felt a weird glimmer of hope. She could do those things. Some of them didn't even sound that bad.

"Would you make such a deal, Lois Lane? Freedom for this curse, in exchange for service to me? Three years and three days of slavery, or a short and sperm-filled life as you **** yourself before everyone you know and love!"