Jane's Demonic Cock

WARNING! AUTHOR'S NOTES INCOMING!

Hello, friendly readers! Please note that all characters in this story are over the age of 18. In addition, this story includes content tags such as M/F/F, pregnant sex, overly huge cock, excessive cum, cum inflation, anal, all-the-way-through, and futanari. If that's not your jam, then let us part as friends. But if you're into it, then read on!

This story follows the Hellish escapades of two human college girls and their well-endowed demon associate, who have appeared in previous short stories I've written. However, you need not read those entries to enjoy this one, as this story is intended to stand on its own.

AUTHOR'S NOTES CONCLUDED. WE HAVE COME TO TERMS.

~~~~~~

A demon stood on his balcony overlooking the infernal city of Dis, the capital city of Hell, watching the raw and crimson sky fade to a deep blood-red with the coming of night. Shadows fell over the landscape of the underworld metropolis, a soft gloom obscuring buildings of stone and glass, darkening the fires of the mighty River Phlegethon where it bisected the city's avenues. He inhaled the acrid scent of brimstone, sighing deeply.

I used to find Hell so lovely in the evening, he thought. But now? It seems so... boring.

Azalok was a Fallen Watcher, cast out of paradise alongside Lucifer Morningstar. He was a Marquis of the Umbral Plains, a member of the underworld's Demonic Peerage, and a Commander of the 66 Legions of Hell. In his thousands of years of existence, he had accumulated a multitude of titles and honors, more than he could recall. Once he had been proud of his credentials, but over the millenia, their luster had dulled for him. Now his duties as a Lord of the Underworld seemed mundane, and he found his mind turning increasingly to the same intrusive thought:

An adorable human girl named Jane, who he had recently knocked up.

Azalok's grip tightened on the railing as he pictured his mortal lover's face: an attractive mouth with a sardonic grin, golden brown eyes with a hint of exotic cast thanks to a smidge of Asian heritage, and wide, awkward lenses popular with trendy humans of her generation. She was not a great beauty of history -- after all, Azalok had personally known Helen of Troy and Cleopatra -- but something about Jane's non-traditional bearing and offbeat sense of style held his interest more than any human in the past century -- or millennium, for that matter.

What is the word for her, in the current parlance?, he thought. Ah yes. "Dorky." She is magnificently dorky.

He was lost in a reverie most unbefitting one of his station when the sound of the balcony door sliding open caught his attention. Half-turning, Azalok did not need to focus his keen sense of smell nor his otherworldly perception of space and motion to know who had joined him.

"Good evening, Astarte."

She appeared beside him, reclining with her back against the balustrade, and flashed him a catlike grin that was entirely too wide for her elfin face. Slender, short-statured, and pale as snow, Astarte did not cut an imposing appearance, but nevertheless, she was to be feared. Bright yellow eyes flashed with wicked mirth, and sharp white eye teeth glimmered when parted her lips. A long, black braid hung behind her over the edge of the balcony. Astarte was garbed in billowy coffee-colored harem pants and a form-fitting crimson top, which was sleeveless and semi-opaque, decorated with whorls like tongues of flame. Though flat of chest, her nipples strained prominently against the fabric.

"Why so glum, Azalok?" asked Astarte, a sardonic tone in her sing-songy voice, which was surprisingly deep and husky for a woman of her stature. "I mean, you're usually pensive and brooding, but tonight you seem positively melancholy."

"I am fine," said Azalok, a bit more gruffly than he intended. "Do not concern yourself."

Astarte clucked her tongue at him and slipped one of her slim hands over his bulkier one which tightly gripped the balustrade. The familiarity of the gesture rankled him inwardly, but he did nothing to dislodge it.

"You can't lie to me. I've known you for thousands of years. There are no secrets between us. You're clearly in the doldrums... I wonder, could it have something to do with a human girl?"

Azalok only offered a low growl of annoyance in response, inwardly bristling at how close to the mark she'd come. Astarte knows me better than anyone. And that is precisely what is so frustrating about her.

"Bingo!" cried Astarte, delighted at herself. "Knew it. The mighty Azalok, charmed by some little human slut. Oh, I know, you knock up humans all the time, but with this one, I think you might have gotten attached. Say, what's her name, Azalok? Was it Debbie? Or Agatha? Oh, no, wait, I've got it -- Jane."

Upon hearing the human girl's name, Azalok pulled away from the petite demoness and stood up straight, assuming his full, towering height. He crossed his arms imperiously and glowered down at Astarte.

"I forbid you to interfere with her," he boomed, in the commanding voice which had brought Babylonian warlords to their knees.

But Astarte merely giggled, as though he had done a humorous pantomime.

"You're so cute when you get upset. If I didn't know better, I'd say you have feelings for this one."

Azalok snorted. "Preposterous. She is mortal. How could one such as I, a guardian of Hell's eternal flame, have feelings for a human?"

Astarte shrugged. "Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself? Why should I care whether or not you love this human girl?"

"Astarte..." he rumbled, a note of supreme warning in his baritone voice.

"Oh, very well," she said, holding up her hands defensively. "I take it back. But if you've no feelings for her, then perhaps you wouldn't object to a little wager?"

He relaxed his posture, intrigued in spite of himself. Azalok, like most demons, had a sporting streak. Immortality could be so terribly dull, after all.

"Oh? What sort of wager?"

Astarte made a show of checking her nails, as if only half-interested in the conversation as she spoke.

"Well, I do wonder, my dear, if this little human girl can really give you everything you need. I mean, after all, no human could ever satisfy you the way I can. But even if you do take some kind of perverse carnal pleasure in blasting out these human whores, you surely know that they would never accept the real you."

"What are you getting at?" growled Azalok impatiently.

"Bring her here," said Astarte. "To Dis. Let her see the true face of Hell. I will wager that after a single day in Hell, this human will be so thoroughly repulsed by demonkind that she'll want nothing more to do with you."

"Hmm. The stakes?"

Astarte took a step closer, moving to intimate distance, and placed her hands on Azalok's firmly muscled chest. She looked up into his eyes sensuously, practically purring as she said, "You know what I want. A night with you, all to myself, to do with as I please."

"Very well. And if I win... I demand the usual."

She backed away, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Oh poo, not that."

"These are my terms," he said with a smirk.

Astarted huffed and pouted, her expressive lips curving downward, looking for all the world like a petulant child. Then she sighed and gave a little shrug.

"Fine. We have a deal, then?"

Azalok shrugged. "Why not? What is it to me if the human girl mislikes Hell? She will bear my spawn regardless."

"Done!" announced Astarte, with a snap of her fingers. She abruptly sashayed from the balcony, calling over her shoulder as she went, "Be seeing you, Azalok."

He shook his head ruefully as the demoness departed. She could be so infuriating. And, of course, she was completely wrong. It was not just improbable, but downright impossible for an immortal like him to have romantic feelings for a human.

Wasn't it?

~~~~~~

Jane slipped the chemise over her head, letting the slinky, semi-translucent fabric tumble over her curves. It was soft, powdery pink, not really her color, but Alahna had picked it out, and Jane trusted her bestie's taste. With a matching pair of lacey pink panties, it was the kind of nightgown that was really just coy lingerie. Is this hot? she thought, checking herself out in the bathroom mirror. I can't tell.

Jane owned more than her fair share of teddies, chockers, mesh stockings, brasiers, and so on and so forth. Nightgowns, such as the one barely hiding her curves currently, weren't usually her style. It was the kind of thing she imagined a trust fund daughter would wear on her virginal wedding night, still a bit bashful about looking sexy for her man. But she was obliged to go along with Alahna's choice, and anyway, her usual sets of naughty underthings no longer fit.

Because Jane was heavily pregnant.

Beneath the billowy pink fabric, her gravid tummy stood out plainly. Jane cradled it with her hands and felt the demonspawn within her stir. It gave her a little thrill, knowing that she'd soon give birth to... something.

Given that her babydaddy was an immortal demon from Hell, Jane had no idea what her child would look like. Azalok was handsome and appeared, for all intents and purposes, pretty much like a human, but nevertheless, this was not a normal pregnancy. For one thing, although Jane looked to be six months pregnant, the truth was it had been only two weeks. The little monster in her womb was growing entirely too fast, forcing Jane to keep it a secret from just about everyone, including her well-to-do, upper-middle-class parents.

Despite all that, she had to admit that pregnancy looked good on her. Jane gave off dorky, offbeat vibes most of the time, but now, dressed in the frilly pink ensemble chosen by her bestie, the only remnant of her geeky demeanor was her thick-rimmed hipster glasses. Brown hair hung to her shoulders, and her eyes had an ever so slight angularity to them, thanks to her quarter-Japanese heritage. Jane's tits, normally a hearty B-cup, had swelled well beyond their usual size, and were almost constantly sore from the prodigious amount of milk she produced. Even now she could see little wet spots forming where her nipples touched the fabric.

Jane couldn't resist snapping a picture, and spent a moment texting it to Azalok. After their last encounter, he'd provided her with a cell phone number, which he'd claimed was a privilege only a few other mortals enjoyed.

Look what you did to me, stud. I don't think I can get any more pregnant than this. When are you coming for a visit???

Jane clicked send, sighing as the message whirled away into the ether. It had been a week since she'd seen Azalok. He'd stayed in touch, at least -- naughty texts, eggplant emoji, pictures of cats, that sort of thing -- but urgent demon business kept delaying him in Hell. Why did I let a demon knock me up?, she wondered, and not for the first time. The answer, of course, was that he'd promised to fix her infertility and fulfill her lifelong fantasy of motherhood. But then there was the little matter of what came after. Would she have to move to Hell to raise their child? And was she actually -- perish the thought -- catching feelings for a demon?

Don't think about it, Jane ordered herself. Think about his absurdly huge cock, think about how he fucked you to the womb, think about how he turned you into a human cum fountain... just don't think about feelings.

"Don't leave me in suspense!" called Alahna.

Sighing, Jane quit her pensive musings and stepped out of the bathroom. Her tiny off-campus apartment had been her refuge and prison for the past week since her baby bump had grown too large to hide. It was cozy, yet small, and she might have gone totally stir crazy if not for one thing:

Alahna.

The sight of Jane's best friend left her absolutely gobsmacked. Alahna stood in the middle of the main room of the apartment, dressed in a black bodysuit with a sweeping cutout of criss-crossed laces running up the front. The skimpy garment accentuated Alahna's toned, athletic figure, and the cutout showed off acres of attractive flesh, from the valley between her perky D-cups all the way down to her bellybutton. A pair of matching stockings seemed painted onto the girl's long legs. Tall and fit, Alahna had beautiful ochre skin thanks to the Polynesian heritage in her background. Her straight black hair hung loose about her shoulders. Alahna had a slightly nervous look in her amber eyes, and bit her bottom lip apprehensively.

"Well, you look adorable," said Alahna in her charming New Zealander accent. "This... thing you picked out makes me look like a right slut."

Jane rolled her eyes, saying, "That's the point, A. Lingerie is supposed to say 'I'm sexy and I want to get fucked,' not, 'oh, I'm a smol bean, tee hee.'"

Alahna raised one eyebrow critically, crossing her arms and adopting the lecturing tone she often used with Jane. "I think you and I have very different ideas about lingerie, love. There's something to be said for modesty, even when you're trying to make a guy hard."

Jane shook her head with a chuckle, not even attempting a reply. They truly did approach sex differently. Although Alahna was no prude -- Jane had watched her suck and fuck a titanic demon dick not even a week ago -- the athletic girl was certainly more conservative when it came to dating. In their freshman year at Great Midwestern University (Go Rivermen!), Jane had lost count of the number of dudes she'd had one-night stands with, while Alahna had gone through a handful of steady, but ultimately unsuccessful, relationships.

Still, the two girls had more in common than not, including a deep and abiding love of Mark Knopfler from Dire Straits, a predilection for Indian food, and a healthy interest in campus life. They had been fast friends since freshman orientation, and nearly inseparable ever since. The pair did everything together, and there was no one on earth Jane trusted more than Alahna.

They'd also had sex every night for a week.

Before Azalok had melted Jane's mind with intoxicating demon cum, she'd never really thought about girls that way, let alone her bestie. But since a fateful, and searingly hot encounter a week ago, the pair had become much more than just friends. The situation was so bizarre that they'd avoided discussing the implications of it very much: for now, Alahna was still just Jane's best friend, sole confidant about her demonic pregnancy -- oh, and also her casual lesbian lover. Just normal American college stuff, Jane thought to herself.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," said Alahna, casting a wary glance at Jane's high-quality webcam, the green light indicating that it was live and recording.

"C'mon, baby, there's nothing to worry about," Jane said reassuringly. "I'll let you review all the footage before I post it. It'll be tasteful, edited, and I won't show your face. When you see your cut of the proceeds, you'll be glad you did it."

For the past six months or so, Jane had been posting lewd photos online for a small but dedicated group of admirers. It had started as a sexy hobby -- the idea of thousands of random guys blowing their loads to her pictures turned Jane on immeasurably -- but it had grown into a source of income, enough to help Jane afford the simple luxuries of college life. Photos had turned into videos, from which Jane's followers learned all about her breeding fantasies, usually when she was talking dirty in the throes of a toe-curling orgasm. Now that she was actually pregnant, and making sexy content with her baby bump fully visible, her support had gone through the roof. Of course, Jane had been careful to fudge the timeline of her pregnancy so that her fans didn't get suspicious.

Alahna had historically looked down her nose at Jane's double life, but now something had flipped. Maybe it was all the demon semen Alahna had consumed, but the formerly sex-hesitant girl had shown increasing interest in Jane's work over the past few days. They often watched a recording Jane had made of herself and Azalok, mutually masturbating as they did. Two nights ago, Jane had gone down on Alahna while the Kiwi girl watched a compilation video of Jane coming on camera. After a soul-shattering orgasm, Alahna had finally agreed to make a girl-on-girl video with Jane. They'd agreed to pick each other's outfits, which is how Jane ended up in the slinky-yet-modest chemise, and Alahna in the revealing lace teddy.

"So how does this work?" asked Alahna. Now that the moment had arrived, the athletic girl seemed to be questioning her decision.

"We just, y'know, do our thing. No pressure. I'm going to edit it all later so it looks slick and sexy, so just relax."

Despite Jane's assurances, Alahna remained skeptical, evidently self-conscious in the knowledge that the cam was running. She's adorable when she's nervous, thought Jane. Taking the initiative, Jane pulled her bestie into the camera frame. With gentle coaxing, Jane led Alahna's hands to her bloated tummy, covered by the thin silky garment. Alahna took the hint and caressed Jane's bump, feeling the spawn within stir restlessly.

"God, Jane," Alahna remarked. "I had no idea pregnant girls were so sexy. It's like I can feel the energy coming off you."

Jane felt it too. Whenever the hellspawn occupying her womb stirred, it sent waves of hellish energy rippling through her body. The power was intoxicating and sensual, leaving Jane almost unbearably horny since her breeding. It had only gotten worse as she grew close to term, and Jane was lucky if she could last two hours without an orgasm. She often came in her sleep, and it seemed that she could almost come just from thinking about it hard enough.

Alahna moved her smoothing and stroking higher, until she reached the place where Jane's swollen tits bulged out the front of the fabric. Her painfully erect nipples scraped against the inside of the chemise, leaving spots of visible wetness as they leaked milk. The pressure in Jane's breasts was almost as needful as the pressure in her loins, and she sighed in relief as Alahna's gentle caresses coaxed out more of fluid in little squirts.

"Your tits are insane, Janey," Alahna cooed. "I just have to taste them."

The brown skinned girl slid the straps of the pink chemise over Jane's shoulders and let the billowy fabric fall, catching on her erect nipples. Alahna gently freed Jane's tits and let the garment bunch above her bump. The Kiwi girl was a good head taller than her friend, so she was obliged to bend down awkwardly, but was rewarded when her plush lips closed around Jane's stupendously hard nipple. Jane moaned in pleasurable relief as a great gush of milk flooded her bestie's mouth. Alahna moaned happily and continued to suckle like a hungry baby until that breast was more or less drained.

"Fuck that's yummy," said Alahna, wiping her lips. "Creamy and decadent like dulce de leche. If all milk tasted like this, we'd never have calcium problems again."

She switched to the other and repeated the process, earning a high-pitched squeal from Jane when the fit girl bit down gently on the nipple in her mouth. When Alahna had drunk her fill, she stood up straight and faced Jane, lips and chin wet with fluid. Jane's milk, enhanced by Azalok's demonic hormones, came out a beautiful silvery color which glistened attractively on her friend's ochre face. The athletic girl grabbed a fistful of Jane's hair and pulled her forcefully into a passionate kiss. Jane melted into it, loving Alahna's dominant attitude, and parted her lips. She was surprised when Alahna squirted some of Jane's own milk into her mouth, held in reserve for this purpose. Moaning lustfully, Jane gulped it down.