Epilogue: A Satanic Elopement

"Dearly Damned," the bald woman in the black robe said. "We are gathered here today to witness the unholy union of Angelica Blaze and Lois Lane..."

Lois Lane wore a black dress, tight enough that that was concerned someone could see the swell of her belly, with a black veil over her features. Blaze had opted for a black suit, of that slim European cut, with black shirt and thin black tie. They fit the decor of the Satanic Chapel of Las Vegas, with its molded cement skulls, inverted cross, and the monolithic altar where during a Black Mass a naked woman would lay. The red-glass windows gave the small ceremonial area a ruddy twilight look, and even in her human form, Blaze looked appropriately devilish.

A few ancient prostitutes occupied the pews behind them to act as witnesses. The ink was barely dry on the wedding licenses, but that suited Lois fine. She and Blaze had been "together" for four weeks, getting to know one another and planning their wedding—and what they had decided on, at the end, was a quick elopement. No big wedding, no worrying over a guest list, no dealing with well-meaning friends and relatives trying to talk Lois out of it. Once over and done with, Lois knew she could explain it away mostly by pointing at the pregnancy. She wasn't exactly showing yet, but the was nausea had been gripping her at odd times, Lois had no doubt she would be soon.

"...a union symbolized by the exchange of rings, and a sacrifice of blood."

"Bawk?" A naked acolyte held the black cockerel. Another held a black velvet pillow with the ritual knife. Behind the veil, Lois Lane's mouth was drawn in a tight line. In exchange for a quickie wedding, she had let Angie choose the venue, which meant dealing with small issues like an animal sacrifice.

Lois raised her hand, and allowed Blaze to slide the slim black gold band with its black pearl surrounded by black diamonds onto her ring finger. Then Blaze extended her own hand, and Lois slid the band in place...and that was almost that.

"By the unholy glory of Lucifer, first of the fallen, I declare you wed," the cultist intoned. "You may kill the chicken."

The pregnant reporter sighed as she picked up the knife. Blaze held the chicken, one hand clamping the beak shut, the other holding the body. For a brief moment, Lois debated trying to stab her new spouse through the heart...but that wasn't a shot she was prepared to take unless she was sure it was going to hit its mark.

The knife slit through the feathered neck, swift and mercifully. Blood sprayed. Blaze dropped the flopping, headless carcass as she lifted the reporter's veil to kiss her wife...officially, legally her wife...for the first time.

There were photographs. Phone calls. Dinner, where Lois ended up eating more than she should, including two desserts, on the grounds that she was pregnant and needed it, but also because her heart felt heavy. Getting married didn't make her feel happy. It didn't make her feel anything. She could feel the weight of the ring on her finger, but other than that it was...just the same as it had been before. They checked back into the same hotel room. Stripped off their clothes. Washed the blood from their hands.

Lois Lane-Blaze sat on the bed and let out a little sigh. She was going to get fucked tonight. She always got fucked. Blaze was insatiable. By dint of the contract, she always made sure that the reporter enjoyed it too—Lois had never had a sexual relationship that resulted in so many orgasms—but it also felt less...special. Another Saturday night.

Angie hugged her from behind.

"We did it a little out of order, didn't we?" The demon did. She'd shed her human guise, and Lois could feel her spouse's horns pressed against the back of her head. "All your life, society told you that your wedding night was supposed to be special. The virginal bride taken for the first time. Except you're not virginal, and you're already knocked up."

"Something like that," Lois Lane-Blaze said. She raised her hand to stroke the red arm that hugged her chest.

"You know that's bullshit, right? There have been entire generations where the bride-to-be was at least three months pregnant. The emphasis on virginity is bullshit. It always has been bullshit. Terrible patriarchal assholes putting young women on pedestals so that they could feel like manly men when they **** them during their honeymoon."

"Intellectually, yes, I know it," Lois said. "I don't know what's wrong with me, I just..."

The demon let her hand fall. The scarlet fingers cupped the reporter's pussy.

"Tell you what," Blaze said. "Why don't I restore your hymen, and then fuck you like it was our first time?"

Lois gave a laugh...but it was a **** laugh. She knew that Blaze was dead serious.

"I'd rather not get blood on the sheets," Lois said.

"I could fuck your ass?" Blaze said, and Lois felt the familiar sensation of the demon's dick press into her lower back.

"I'd rather not get blood on the toilet paper," Lois said wryly. "Or at least, if you want to do butt stuff, I should go do a couple of enemas first."

"We could..." the demon hesitated. "...cuddle?"

Lois blinked. "What?"

"We'll lie in each other's arms. All night long, if you like. Not every night of our married life has to involve us fucking like horny teenagers," the demon said.

"You mean it?" The pregnant reporter said.

"Of course!"

So they did. Lights out, side by side in bed. Curled toward each other. Arm in arm beneath the covers. A storybook romance ending.

They lasted fifty-seven minutes.

"Angie?" Lois said. "I can't sleep. Could you, um, fuck me into unconsciousness?"

"Thank Satan, I don't know how much longer I could last," Blaze said.

The demon pinned her wife down. Lois spread her thighs and guided that familiar rod into her slit, already wet and ready. The crimson cock slid easily into its warm home, and Lois sighed at the sensation as the itch was scratched. Tomorrow, perhaps, she would worry that her time with Blaze had corrupted her, and then she couldn't last even one day without sex...but tonight, as she grabbed the headboard as it banged against the wall, and Blaze balled her pregnant cunt as if trying to knock her up all over again, Lois Lane-Blaze was at peace with the new facts of her life.

She was married to a demon, and she might as well get in her fair share of fucks.