End: When The Pill Finally Works

The cramp crept up on Lois slowly. A vague discomfort that localized deep between her hips...and intensified. With grim resignation, the wired, half-drunk reporter stumbled toward the bathroom, clutching her smartphone in one hand and a beer in another.

Seated on the thrown, Lois winced as the pain spread. That was part of the thing most people didn't understand about the morning-after pill. It wasn't like taking an aspirin. Actual abortion **** were stronger, less pleasant. Oh sure, if the embryo wasn't too big, it wasn't too bad...but the reporter stared down at her swollen stomach.

The dome of her belly stood out. She could actually feel her womb inside, like a tough water balloon, firm but with a touch of give. She wasn't sure what was growing inside of her or how big it was, but the reporter was sure that this wasn't going to be pleasant.

To distract herself as the cramp increased in intensity, Lois started typing up her notes on the night in her phone. The club. The shrine beneath it. How she had been drawn to grab that bottle, seemingly at random. The sudden desire to take a bath, and the shape that had assaulted her in the tub. Lois grimaced as muscles inside of her spasmed painfully, and remembered why she had swallowed that pill...

It moved slowly inside of her. The pain came in waves, more intense than Lois had ever known it. By the time it started to move. She bore down, her teeth ground against one another to avoid crying out...and what finally oozed out of her pussy had no shape at all. Like a blood clot, perhaps the size of her palm, which oozed out stubbornly. It seemed to cling to her labia, even though it had no limbs...and then a flush of fluid followed, and the thing was swept down into the bowl.

Lois stayed on the toilet for another half an hour, until her ass was numb and her thumbs ached. She stood, wiped...and looked down, once, at the blood-stained bowl. Then she flushed, and put it and the night out, behind her.

The skin of her stomach felt loose. Her abs ached, as did her cunny. A strange and terrible emptiness filled the reporter...but a sense of triumph as well. Whatever it was, she had beaten it. She had won...

...and she would have her ****.

Lois hit "send" on the message she had written. There were heroines out there who owed her favors...women she trusted. Who would be horrified by what Lois had endured. And who would help her find who was behind this strange ****, and do unto them far, far worse than they had tried to do to Lois Lane.

The hunt was on.