Two Is Her Limit

For some reason, Lois Lane thought the second egg would be easier than the first. After all, her pussy already felt trashed, her cervix gaped open, her uterus was stretched around the first smooth invader. Sure enough, as the second egg slid into her poor cunt, the reporter realized there her insides were looser than they had been...the muscles stretched out, the tunnel wet and goopy with Blaze's secretions.

No, the problem came when it finally reached her cervix...and the demon tried to cram it into a womb that was already occupied.

"Aaaagh!" Lois was unable to suppress a groan of pain as forces warred within her body. Slowly, inexorably, the demon increased the ****, the ovipositor pulsing and throbbing...and slowly and surely, the reporter's uterus, tainted by the demon's toxins, began to stretch. Yet it was no sudden or easy process. Millimeter by millimeter, the second egg pressed against the first...and as it **** its way inside, the reporter's poor uterus stretched and distorted.

Time lost all meaning for the reporter. There was only the slow rise of her abdomen, the crushing pain in her guts, the impossible rubbing of that huge egg as it slowly **** its way through her gaping and sore cervix...and worse than all that were all the other sensations of the reporter's body.

Lois had heard of orgasmic birth experiences, of women who came as their offspring stretched their cunts beyond anything a normal woman would experience. Now, Lois dimly understood that experience. Her nipples were so hard they ached. Sweat poured down her body, pooling under her breasts and dripping down her ribs. Damp hair stuck to her forehead, and her ass ached from how hard she clenched...but with the grunt and groan of a true masochist discovering their nature for the first time, Lois Lane's gasps of pain were punctuated by moans, gasps, exultant shivers of excitement up her spine, biting her lips so hard she nearly bled...

...and by the time the second and final egg was safely ensconced in her distended womb, the reporter's stomach jutted out like a woman on the cusp of her third trimester. Nerveless fingers unclenched, and Lois Lane slumped, exhausted, as the demon's ovipositor withdrew from her gaping fuckhole.

A slim hand rested on the reporter's sore, bloated abdomen. She felt like she'd won or lost a sit-up competition. Her body had begun to stiffen, not wanting to move.

"Any more," Blaze said happily. "And I think you might have burst! But no matter. Let's get you out of here...and you can think about what you'll ask of me."

"Huh?" Lois managed.

"Your boons," Blaze said as strong hands pulled the reporter out, as easily as if Lois was a small child. "You carry two of my spawn. I owe you two boons."