End: I Don't Want A Baby

"I don't want a baby!" Lois sobbed suddenly.

Angelica Blaze growled and paused mid-thrust, sliding her cock out. The reporter stared in terrible fascination as the cock throbbed, swelled...as if in slow motion the urethra slowly opened...and then time resumed its normal flow and a dizzying stream of hot white jizz spurted out.

The first sticky rope splashed across the reporter's eyes, temporarily blinding her. The rest she could feel as a hot rain, splattering across her face, her breasts, her belly...it seemed to last a long time, the jizz puddling on her stomach and chest.

Lois rubbed at her eyes, which stung from the salty cum. She coughed politely.

"Thank you," she swallowed. "Thank you for not cumming inside of me. I'm just...I'm just not ready for a baby right now."

"It's okay," Blaze said, moving off of her. Lois couldn't help but hear the slight tone of disappointment in the dickgirl's voice. "Always give the customer what she wants. Or don't give her what she doesn't want, in this case."

Lois smiled. "I can't see. But let me clean this up, and I'll suck you off, okay? We can still have a lot of fun, even without a creampie."

The reporter got off the bed to wash her eyes in the bathroom sink. A part of her regretted what she had done—it was cruel to ask someone to pull out right in the middle of things like that, and she was lucky—and grateful—that Angelica had been so understanding. Yet the more she thought about it, the more Lois was sure she had made the right decision. Whatever had gripped her in the heat of the moment, she just wasn't at a place in her life where she could have a baby.

Having cleaned off all the cum, Lois walked back toward the bed. Angelica Blaze was standing, fastening the coat around her naked form.

"You're going?" Lois said, a little hurt. "I paid for all night, we can still—"

"Stop," Blaze hissed, holding up one hand. Black sparks flared between her fingers. Lois froze, eyes open, unable to move a muscle.

"Sleep," The hand shifted position, and Blaze snapped her fingers.

Consciousness fled from Lois Lane, legs collapsing beneath her—but Angelica Blaze was there to catch her, and hauled the naked reporter to the bed. The dickgirl places one finger gently against the center of the reporter's forehead.

"Forget."

A small wave of black lightning spread out from the fingertip, sinking into the reporter's scalp. Somewhere inside her brain, the memories of the evening locked themselves away.

Blaze sighed and stared at the idol.

"How many times?" she whispered softly, so as not to wake her lover. "How many nights do we have to run through this little charade, until she finally begs me to knock her up."

The fertility idol did not answer. Blaze didn't really expect one.

The dickgirl grunted, picked up the statue, and head out. At the door to the apartment, she snapped her fingers one final time. A warm wind blew through the place, like the doors of Hell slamming open for a brief moment. All evidence of the night would be gone—no cumstains, no club clothes cleaned and put away—all as it had been.

Lois Lane was a good reporter. She would follow the leads, which would draw her back to the Club again.

Where Blaze would be waiting, watching. Hoping this time it would be different.