End: Lois Keeps Her Promise

Lois Lane sighed. She was bottomless, in an underground brothel, and someone was making superhuman prostitutes. Time to be a reporter.

"I've got this," she whispered.

The brothel corridor was floored in a plush red carpet. Behind the doors she could hear the occasional moans and grunts of sex—but beyond even that, now the reporter could smell and taste what was going on, superhuman sensitive to the sex happening around her. Lois tip-toed through, wondering behind which door was the missing women...

A light cramp brought her up short.

RIGHT.

Lois turned to her right. She could sense...someone behind the door. The soft schlick-schlick of a wet pussy getting violated, barely audible moans low and female. "You're sure?"

YES.

Not wanting to second-guess her own uterus, Lois snuck up to the door and cracked it open...to see Jenny Dunlap in a Power Girl costume, her breasts enormous, slowly pounding away at her box with a giant green dildo.

"How did you know that?" Lois whispered.

JUST KNOW.

I know the basics of the women's age and health, Lois reasoned. And Womb must be more attuned to my enhanced senses than I am. She must be processing things that I can't.

NOT PREGNANT.

"Right. Hang on," Lois whispered, then stood up and opened the door, letting Jenny Dunlap see her.

"Hi," Lois said to the masturbating blonde. "I'm Lois Lane, a reporter from the Daily Planet. I'd like to ask you a few questions..."

So it went. They made a pretty good team, Lois and her uterus. The interviews went about as Lois expected: the women had all been drawn here, transformed by a mysterious woman named Blaze, and then subtly pressured into working as prostitutes, and none of them had the will or wherewithal to leave.

The reporter mulled everything over in her head as she left the final room. As nefarious a scheme as Lois had ever encountered, and she knew that she'd have to contact the authorities, maybe even Superm—

COCK.

Lois Lane's left over twitched, and she turned, spinning to see a scarlet-skinned woman walk in. Tall black horns jutted from her regal brow, long black hair cascaded down her back. Her lithe, lanky form was squeezed into a black one-piece dress, the plunging décolletage going right down to her belly button...and there was a distinctive bulge between her legs.

A cock. A real, live dick. Lois had been lucky so far not to run into any "customers" during her investigation, though she had found herself superhumanly sensitive to even the faint traces of cum they had left behind. Now, in the presence of an actual cock, her body seemed to go into overdrive, pussy gushing like she had just wet herself, nipples hardening.

"No," she whispered sotto voce. "Not now! Later, I promised."

COOOOCK.

"Lois Lane. You have been a clever thing, haven't you?" The scarlet shemale said, her voice had a strange accent, something Mediterranean, not quite Greek or Egyptian, but somewhere in-between.

"Blaze, I presume?" Lois said, trying to project cool confidence despite the rumblings in her body. She really wished she was wearing pants right now.

"Clever, clever little thing." Black lightning flared between the demon's fingertips as she raised her arm, one hand extended at Lois. "Let's see what I can turn you into..."

Nowhere to run. Lois felt her body tense, ready for whatever magic blow was about to be struck—and then nearly doubled over in pain, pussy clamping painfully, a gush of liquid hitting the floor.

The sight of it gave Blaze pause. "Wha—? Ugh."

The demon staggered, one hand on her head. Her eyes were pure white, without iris or pupil, but from the expression on her face the reporter thought she looked a little cross-eyed. As Lois watched, the demon's nipples hardened, poking out at the fabric of the dress, and rising up from between her legs, was the second-largest erection that Lois had seen tonight.

"What did you...do...to me..." Blaze staggered as if drunk. Black lightning crackled off of her, scoring the wall.

NEED. COCK.

The reporter's womb throbbed in time with the words.

"You'll get it," she wheezed. "I promise. Just not...this...cock."

Blaze's legs gave out from under her, and she began to crawl toward Lois. The reporter retreated...and then saw that she was not the main target. The red-skinned woman was crawling toward the puddle she had made on the carpet.

"What did you do?" she whispered to Womb.

FUCK SMELL. GOOD. NO RESIST.

Lois swallowed and dug out her phone from the jacket pocket. She supposed that was no different from the normal way women exuded pheromones...just never in that quantity or concentration. Definitely time to make a call.

"Zatanna?" She said, when the witch picked up. "It's Lois Lane. Look, I've got a demon situation. Calls herself Blaze. Uh huh. Uh huh. No male heroes." she gave the club's addressed, explained how to get to the sub-basement. "...and if you could, bring me a skirt? Thank you, you're a gem."

Blaze was on her hands and knees now, face buried in the damp spot that Lois had made in the carpet, rubbing her face in it. Her ass humped the air, the obscene, foot-long shaft throbbing.

It took a few hours to sort things out. Zatanna took Blaze into custody with some kind of binding spell, the cops and social workers took the super-prostitutes into custody. Lois texted the gist of and article to Perry White, who was probably yelling "Stop the presses!" and re-writing the front page. A good night's work.

The skirt Zatanna had brought barely covered the reporter's ass. The witch had looked apologetic, but Lois accepted it graciously. She didn't have much of a butt, but squeezed into the tight black tube, it was showed off to good effect. The hem didn't even reach down to mid-thigh.

There was only one thing left to do.

Superman came in on her balcony. Lois Lane had left the sliding glass door open, and he touched down and stepped right in, closing it behind him.

"Lois, what did you need to see me about? Zatanna said it was urgent."

That strong voice, with an accent like a newscaster, that was distinctly American but belonged to no one specific locale. That smell, like sun-kissed cornfields in the midwest. That broad chest and musclebound shoulders and...

She stepped up close to him, put her hands on those hard biceps. Stared into those sky-blue eyes.

"Superman...you know how you told me once, that women were like kleenex? Afraid that if you made love to a human woman, you would...hurt her?"

The Man of Steel swallowed. Even without looking, she knew he was already getting hard. Womb was shivering in anticipation.

"Yes," he said, breathily. "I'm sorry Lois, I know...I've always felt an attraction to you, but that hasn't changed."

"Oh, but it has." She whispered.

She leaned up and kissed his lips, brushed her belly against his crotch...and felt the hard rod within his pants. Reached one hand down to undo the belt and free the erection. The hard length of it pressed into her belly, and Womb practically growled with **** need.

In her head, Lois had a script. She was going to guide him toward the bed, strip off their clothes until they were properly naked, and make love...but now she found herself leaping into his arms, legs wrapping around his body. Her lips locked with his, passion seizing them both as she slid down, no panties in the way, supercock mating with supercunt with a soft, wet schlick.

Lois Lane knew she wasn't going to get off that cock until she was knocked up.

Because whatever else she was, she never broke a promise if she could help it.

LOVE.

SUPERCOCK.

LOVE.

The reporter grinned, breaking the kiss, ass bobbing up and down on Superman's dick.

"Yeah," she admitted, seeing a look of confusion on her Kryptonian lover's face. "I love supercock."