Epilogue: Boys Will Be Camwhores

"Well, Lois Lane," Angelica Blaze said, "you did it."

The demonic dickgirl was hanging on the reporter, her chin resting on the reporter's head. Lois smiled to herself in quiet triumph. It had taken a couple of weeks of coaching, paperwork, and getting the equipment together, but now the four former women were fully transitioned into their new identities, back to attending classes, and gainfully employed.

"Low score takes two in the ass!" D-dawg yelled.

"Mars likes it in the ass!"

"I like it in your ass, bro!"

"Y'all gay! More dakka!"

The room was half game center, half porn studio. Sex toys, kleenex, and lube were all readily at hand. The young men, naked except for their headsets and cock rings, talked trash as their characters battled their way through the mission. Cameras caught every twitching, dripping dick...and when they took a break to suck or fuck or lick each other, the cameras kept rolling. Lois hadn't even bothered to hide their former identities; the idea of a group of college-age women magically turning into men and fucking each other's brains out as a pack of complete douchebros was a great gimmick. Sometimes the "boys" even crossdressed. A few had received proposals of marriage. All the money from the streams went straight into their accounts, to pay for their group home and college educations.

"Well, they're happy," Lois said. Then her nose curled. She was glad the customers couldn't smell the stink of sweat, jizz, and raw testosterone.

Lois and Blaze left the room, leaving the boys to their gaming. There was a raw cheer from three throats; it sounded like Mars, the former Mara de la Cruz, was about to get two cocks up his ass. The reporter sighed. She'd never thought she'd get tired of watching a twentysomething young man get cornholed, but after a few weeks of dealing with the Bros, she had to admit she felt a little jaded.

"Don't knock yourself," Blaze said, her hand resting on the reporter's shoulder as she guided her into the living room. "You did a good thing. Those men owe you. They have lives now...options. And I owe you too."

"Oh yeah?" Lois said, too tired to try and move the dickgirl's hand. "And what will that get me?"

"What do you want?"

They collapsed on the couch. Cheap but solid furniture, and wrapped in plastic. The reporter had impressed on the transformed women to try and keep their sexual activities relegated to the game room, and to clean up after themselves, but it didn't always happen. Blaze had been good enough to front a good bit of the money for their ongoing gaming/camwhore venture, and had approved of the idea to basically cum-proof the house.

"You're just trying to get in my pants. Again," the reporter said. Her eyes closed, and she felt Angie's hand slipping down, the warm palm sliding through the neck-hole of the reporter's t-shirt. Lois Lane's own hand moved over to the dickgirl's thigh...and moved northward, feeling the familiar warmth of the demon's crotch.

"Always," Angie said. "But I'm serious. Whatever you want. Just say it."

Lois snorted.

"Surprise me," the reporter said.

The dickgirl's left hand reached over and slid down the reporter's pants. It was warm...very warm...uncomfortably. Lois looked down in sudden alarm, and then yelped as a sudden pain shot through her belly.

"Ow! What the hell was that?"

"Your little surprise," Angie said, moving her hand and pulling back the reporter's shirt to show the reporter the dark shape now tattooed on her lower abdomen. It looked like a stylized uterus.

"A womb tattoo? Seriously?" Lois said.

"It comes with a superpower. Perfect control of your own fertility. No more periods, unless you choose. Absolute guarantee of conception, if you want it. Clean, easy miscarriage, if you change your mind."

Lois stared at the dickgirl. "Seriously?"

"Yup!"

"You're just saying this so that I fuck you bareback again to test it," the reporter accused.

Angie looked hurt...but didn't deny it. Lois shook her head.

"Ugh, fine. I've been needing a good dicking anyway..."

In truth, despite her constant pawing and wheedling, Angelica Blaze hadn't actually fucked her again since that first night...and after her long dry spell, the reporter had been feeling the need for something in her pussy again.

So in less time than it took to tell, they were on the couch, both of them on their sides, Lois holding her legs up behind her knees. That was, Angie could push her cock in deep...and the hard, throbbing cock pushed into the reporter's wet and ready hole, stretching Lois Lane's cunt just right, rubbing up against all the right spots...and kept going and going, minutes stretching out as though they had all the time to fuck in the world...

...and Lois began to think of the mark on her stomach, the power she supposedly had. With her eyes closed, panting softly, she wondered if...if she really wanted it...if she wished for it...if that flutter in her belly wasn't something other than some random muscle spasm, some tickle deep inside of her...

....and just like that, something told Lois Lane that she had done. She couldn't express what the change was like inside of her, except that there was a tremendous sense of anticipation. The reporter shivered with pent-up need, and for the first time in nearly a month she thought about something other than those cock-obsessed young men busy trying to stuff as many dongs into their faces or asses as they could. No, right now, Lois Lane could only think of one thing she needed.

"Cum in me," she whispered...but Angie Blaze was already there, grunting, pumping hard for a few moments, then pushing all of her fat cock deep inside of Lois and holding it in there as it swelled and throbbed, spitting black seed deep into the reporter's deepest, most unprotected parts of herself...and in her mind's eye, Lois could see her cervix opening, welcoming the sperm inside to the great, dark, warm cavern of her womb...where their prize was waiting.

Blaze didn't stop cumming for a long time. She had been waiting for this moment. Perhaps she had been waiting for it all her life.