End: Lois Accepts She's Pregnant...But Not For Long

A lesser woman would have screamed.

Lois Lane squirmed, as quietly as she could. Eyes locked on the end of the vent, watching the cultists slowly give up their search. The reporter squeezed out of her clothes. The sleeve of her jacket folded over and over so she had something to bite on. Thighs spread as far apart as she could in the tight confines of the shaft, with no pants or panties in the way for the baby...

The reporter did believe there was a baby, now. She couldn't deny her own body, as the cramps increased, her whole body instinctively bearing down. Pain flared throughout her crotch because she couldn't spread her legs. The naked reporter was sweating in the filthy confines of the air shaft, heart pounding. Afraid not so much for herself, but for the child. She didn't know how it was possible, but she didn't want the baby to suffer for her mistake.

Instead she waited, fighting the urge to push. Letting the pain build inside of her. The biological imperative grew. She could feel something move inside of her distended stomach, pushing as it was against the hard floor, her back pinned to the ceiling. Lois was staring out of vent, it was her whole world now. The tall cowled one...Lois thought she must be the leader...was angry, gesticulating...and Lois wasn't sure how long she waited there, but she knew by the time the last of the robed figures had filed out she had bitten clean through her sleeve, her jaws ached, and she could feel something inside her pussy, pushing from within.

The next fifteen minutes were agonizing. Lois had heard for some women birth was orgasmic, but for her it was like trying to shit a cannonball, with her knees only eight inches apart. She waited until she was sure that none of the cultists were still there...and then she pulled herself forward, bloated stomach scraping on the bare metal, hoping she could get out before the baby came.

The vent swung open. Naked and caked in sweat and dirt, Lois pushed her clothes out first. Muscles aching, fighting the terrible pain she began to pull herself out...fighting all the while the mental image of herself caught midway out of the vent when the cultists came back, or stuck and unable to extricate herself, or flopping out and gravity helping the baby to drop out of her pelvis...

No cultists came back.

It was a tight squeeze, but her slick skin squeezed out of the hole.

With terrible care, her body screaming, Lois kept her legs closed she dropped down into the pile of clothing.

Then, and only then, did she open her quivering thighs...and push...and push. With her own hands she reached down as the head, covered in slick black hair, threatened to burst her pussy from within. Veins stood out on her neck as she felt her perineum tear...bright blood splashed out... Shook and shivered as her belly deflated, waters leaking out of her...and then with a rush, the whole mass of her baby came out in one fell swoop.

It opened its mouth and screamed...and Lois cradled the small being to her chest, the umbilical cord still leading into her broken cunny. There would be the afterbirth soon, and her clothes were all covered with dirt and blood and...in the corner, the reporter spied a discarded cloak. Clean, serviceable. There was a spot of luck.

"Okay, baby," she croaked, the first words she'd said aloud in hours. "Just give us a few minutes, and mommy will take you to the hospital and then we'll figure out everything from there."

Lois Lane laid her head back against the wall, a part of her not sure what she had just done...but it didn't matter. The baby was exhausted, eyes closed, cradled against the warmth of her breast. The reporter imagined she wouldn't be having many more nights out, not for the next eighteen years or so. She was a mother now.