Take Angelica Blaze As Her Wife

"Yes, I do." Lois said the words. It seems like such a simple, easy thing. That's what she was supposed to do.

"Then I now pronounce you...wife and wife. You may kiss the bride." The strange minister said.

Lips were pressed against hers. Soft, delicate, almost hesitant. Lois Lane found herself parting her lips, letting that tongue slither in. A forked tongue, the twin tips seizing her own in a secret kiss that none of the audience could see.

Her memories of the next few hours were strange, hurried. Lois remembered tossing the bouquet (Supergirl caught it, and eyed Clark Kent strangely), her father giving a toast (the old warhorse had a tear in his eye), cutting the cake with Angelica (chocolate!), sharing the first dance. Yet it was all a blur, like snapshots. She could recall the individual events, but not the moments in between them, though she knew there must have been an in-between. Some movement between the dancefloor, Blaze holding her close, that throbbing erection pressing against her belly as a promise of what was to come, and waving goodbye as she stepped into the limousine, her sister throwing rice into the air...

Lois Lane blinked as Angelica helped her out of the limo before a house. A two story brownstone, the kind you could just tell was in a good school district, the kind that most of Metropolis couldn't afford.

"Where are we?" She asked, as her wife—it was so weird of the dickgirl to think of her like that—unlocked the door and ushered her in.

"Your new home," Angelica said, quietly locking the door behind her.

There were unopened boxes piled in the doorway.

"What I kept from your apartment. A few clothes, photographs. Personal things I thought you might appreciate," Blaze said.

"My things," Lois said automatically.

"No, my dear," The demon glided over to Lois and seized her shoulders. "Everything in this house belongs to me. You own nothing except what I allow you. That was the deal, remember?"

Still in her human form, the demon smiled. She kicked off her shoes and unzipped her fly and undid her cummerbund, letting her pants fall to the floor. The erection looked bigger than the last time Lois had seen it, the balls beneath dangling low.

"A deal's a deal..." She whispered, pushing Lois toward a nearby couch. "I still have to put eight babies in you. All those precious eggs belong to me too..."

"My dress!" Lois said. The need between her legs ate at her, and she could feel that she was soaked, but some tiny part of her still needed to utter some protest, however feeble.

"Keep it on," Angelica Blaze said. "I paid for it. I paid for everything. Even these..." She reached up under her wife's skirts and tore off the panties.

"No underwear in my house," she hissed. "I don't care if you leave a trail of spunk wherever you go, I want constant access to that cunt."

Lois Lane, grabbed the sides of the couch as Blaze lifted her skirts. Her bare, wet slit was on display. The feverish heat filled the reporter's body, so horny she could hardly think straight. It was as though her whole body was in a conspiracy with her wife, preparing itself for the oncoming impregnation. Not the wedding night that Lois Lane had quite dreamed about...but one she was, weirdly, eager and anxious to get started with.