End: Nothing Interrupts Them

There was a mirror, over the bed. So that Lois Lane Kent could watch herself as she lowered her slutty slit down onto Kara's hot and eager mouth. So that she could see herself grab a fistful of the blonde's hair and really jam Power Girl's nose into her pubes, which reeked of sex with Blaze. See herself grope her own massive, swollen tit with her free hand, tugging at a thick nipple and imagining how much bigger and more sensitive they'd get when they filled up with milk for the baby.

As Superman slid his steel-hard shaft into Power Girl's pussy, a thrill ran up the reporter's spine. She loved the idea of sharing her stud. A part of her hoped that Power Girl did get pregnant. That they could enjoy their pregnancies together. Lois could feel her own sore milkbags swell while watching Kara's grow. Then they could be pregnant sluts together. Perfect little whores.

Maybe she could get him to knock up other women too. The whole cuckquean lifestyle. Lois Lane's perfect breeder.

The idea excited Lois like nothing else—and yet a part of her stared at the mirror and remembered that other mirror, the one she had interacted with tonight. Where Blaze had done something, or tried to do something to her. The reporter's memories were confused, hazy. A part of her didn't even recognize herself, with these fat teats and the barest beginning swell of what would in a few short weeks be a baby bump. The violet eyes searched her reflection, but there were no answers there. Lois could catch no glimpse of the self she might have been, in another time. For now—here, in this place, and going forward—she was only the biggest, sluttiest reporter of the Daily Planet.

She always had been.

On the other side of the mirror, in the undefined world of reflections, the wizard Shazam spoke the words of power, that completed the binding. The scarlet succubus stirred as he left—and only the sight of the threesome on the other side of the mirror stopped her. Naked and powerless, the demon's dick stirred to life. Her claws rent the air, but the image retreated before her, so that they found no purchase.

With a scream of inarticulate rage, the demon sought to gather her energies to breach this barrier between worlds—but no black sparks rose at her command. No hellfire issued from her fingers. Strain as she might, the demon could not raise a whisper of power.

"No," Blaze said, as she watched the trio buck and heave in ardent ecstasy. Superman leaned forward and grabbed his wife's huge tits from behind, and the reporter arched her neck backwards and twisted so that they could share a lewd kiss, tongued twined in passion just as those titanic testicles heaved and spat forth a virile load that could have impregnated every woman in Metropolis—but were aimed solely at Power Girl's waiting ovum.

Unbidden, a black drop oozed down from the tip of Blaze's turgid prick, and she grinned in recognition of the cruel irony of her punishment.

She had made Lois Lane into the slut she was today—and now, Blaze could only watch as the reporter enjoyed that slut life to the fullest. Never had she seen the reporter so happy as when her face twisted in climax, when the hot spray from her cunt splashed Power Girl's face—or when she collapsed onto the handcuffed woman and licked her own juices off of her, while presenting her own pregnant pussy for further breeding.

Nor was her husband long in making her wait. Lois Lane's night out was over...and if she felt the eyes on the other side of the mirror, knew the sensation of being watched in her debauchery as her husband impregnated another woman on their shared bed, and with the reporter's willing encouragement and assistance...then it was only an added thrill to an already jaded soul.