Epilogue: Ball & Chain

There was no escape.

Day after day, and Lois couldn't make it out of the house. Some days she didn't even make it out of bed. What was the point? She had signed her life away. Owned nothing. And she was pregnant. Somehow she knew that, even if she hadn't started to show or taken a test yet.

A part of her wondered if she could just...leave. Walk away. Go somewhere, anywhere. Beg a friend to sleep on their couch, get another job, a new ID maybe...find a lawyer that could cut through the contracts, get a divorce...yet something stopped her. Whenever she was just about to muster the energy and willpower to actually leave, her spouse would come in, cock rock hard and ready to go, and Lois...

...she always found herself wet and ready.

Sometimes she cried, after. Thinking about how she moaned like a whore as Blaze balled her. Those fat nuts slapping against her cunt, the dick driving deep, the hot lips making hickies along her neck and shoulders, fingers gripping her so hard that they left bruises...and always, always, Lois would cum. Her body would betray her, eyes rolling back, muscles along her spine cramping as a wave of pleasure went straight from her cunt to her brain, toes curling and hands tearing at the sheets...and when Lois could breathe and think again she'd be laying in a puddle of her own juices, warm spunk dribbling out of her cunt or ass or mouth or all three...and Blaze's smile would light up the darkness as she rubbed her wife's ass or stomach, asked how the babies were doing today...and then she would be gone for a while.

Lois woke up from her "honeymoon" and it was four weeks later. **** herself to drag the sex-stained sheets off the bed and stick them in the brand-new washing machine. She scratched her thighs and found layers of dried cum there. Hauled herself into her master bathroom, with the brand-new shower big enough for two. Nearly screamed when the shower attachment blasted steaming water on her fucked-raw cuntlips, but held it in. Her public hair was a mess of stubble and jizz-clotted longer hairs; but a few minutes with a safety razor left her bald.

She stared into the mirror as she brushed the knots out of her hair. No bags under her eyes, no new lines or creases. All of the creams and makeups she liked to use where there, and she used them, until something of the old Lois Lane stared back at her from the mirror, even if the violet eyes looked haunted.

Still naked, she made herself go to the kitchen and fix and eat a real meal. Soy milk, granola, slices of fresh bananas and strawberries, slivered almonds. She ate standing up in the kitchen. Her teeth crunched on the food, stomach churning gently as it received real nutrition for what felt like the first time in forever. It was almost enough for her to forget the taste of Blaze's cum. Curiosity coming back, she carried the bowl into the dining room.

Someone had left a newspaper on the dining room table.

Lois hadn't been on the internet in four weeks. Hadn't turned on a television or read a book. She swallowed, realizing that she had been as starved for the written word as she had for food. Slurping the last of the milk from the bowl, she set it down and hungrily looked at the front page...

LOIS LANE BLAZE HONEYMOON SEX TAPE SELLS BIG!

She almost lost her first breakfast in days. It was the Daily Planet, and they'd let Cat Grant write the article. The reporter's leg's wobbled as she devoured the column. Blaze Productions released it online with their streaming service, promising the impregnation of the Daily Planet's former greatest reporter. Lois felt a tightness in her chest, tears running down her face. It had made over a million downloads already...

Her pussy got wet. Lois could feel the dampness. She could hardly breathe, as she choked back sobs...Cat Grant described her performance as "carnal, libidinous, utterly unrestrained," and commented on how she begged for her spouse's cum... A column in the right-hand corner was an announcement that Superman was taking a break from Metropolis.

Suddenly, Lois was aware that she wasn't alone. Something long, warm, hard and above all familiar pressed against her cleaned and shaven pussy.

"Ah, you're up," Angelica Blaze whispered in her ear. The demon dickgirl's hands slid around the reporter's stomach, making a little heart-sign with her fingers about Lois's navel. "And I see you've been reading the news."

"Why?" Lois managed, as Blaze pressed the tip of her cock into her wife's warm hole.

"Because I own you."