A Flat Belly

The breath caught in Lois Lane's throat, heart hammering in her ears. She had been afraid that...that she would see her belly bulging oat, bloated and swollen with child, like her mother's had been. Filled with some life-sucking parasite, destroying her body, a cancer draining her of everything to feed its own malicious growth, unwanted yet unable to deny.

Instead, she stared down at the familiar, taut, toned stomach...and a kind of hollow sorrow filled her, a lack, a longing and... Fear gripped Lois Lane by the heart, a fear that seemed to fill her veins with ice water, the reporter shaking uncontrollably as the Scarecrow watched with clinical fascination. A new fear, one that she had never considered:

What if I can't get pregnant?

All her life, Lois had thought she had been afraid of getting pregnant, had been so careful with condoms and birth control, so afraid of sex for so long...what if she hadn't been afraid of getting pregnant at all? What if she was afraid of just the opposite? Her mother had such a hard time conceiving, carrying... The reporter remembered how many times she'd find her mother quietly weeping, trying to put on a brave face, but unbearably sad; it was only later that Lois and Lucy had learned of the miscarriages, the fertility treatments.

Lois shook as the realization crashed down on her. She could be barren. Infertile. Never know what it was like to have a child of her own, to feel a baby at her breast. No little girl to make cookies for or tuck in at night, no little boy to teach how to read. To die old and alone, leaving nothing and no-one behind to carry on.

All this time, I wanted to get pregnant, Lois felt with sudden clarity. I wanted the birth control to fail, the condom to break. I was excited at the prospect of getting knocked up. I was scared of not being able to get knocked up!

Her pussy hurt, the bottle hard and her insides clamping onto it far too tightly. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered. If she couldn't get pregnant...what was the point?

"Interesting..." The Scarecrow hissed, his grip slackening as the reporter leaned against the wall, legs suddenly shaky. "Such a strong fear response. What do you see?"

"Nothing," tears ran down the reports face as she stared at her empty womb. She raised her eyes to look into that mask. "There's nothing to see."

Her thumbs caught the eye-holes of the mask. The reporter doubted if she caught his actual eyes, but it was mostly treated cloth over some kind of protective padding, and he had to see. He howled in rage and Lois twisted skewing the mask. His hands went to his face...and in that instant she was gone, running, ignoring the pain in her pussy as the bottle rubbed her raw.

Ran and cried and cried and ran, thinking about her empty womb, unable to outrun the fear that he had unleashed inside of her.