Epilogue: Breaking News

"...this morning, every oral contraceptive pill in the Greater Metropolis Area has mysteriously vanished. Store shelves, warehouses, even medicine cabinets and hospitals are completely out of any form of designated abortifacient or emergency contraceptive. The nearest supplies are in Gotham and the Mayor has declared a state of emergency to transfer pills to Metropolis hospitals and women's health clinics until new shipments arrive. The cause of the disappearance is a mystery, but speculation involves a certain fifth-dimensional imp. We turn now to Dr. Faulkner of S.T.A.R. Labs. Doctor, what can you tell us of the long-term effects of this contraceptive crisis?"

"We still don't know what caused the sudden disappearance of the medication," the spectacled woman in the labcoat replied. "But assuming it doesn't happen again, contraceptives should be regularly available again within 72 hours. Still, there is a non-negligible chance of a birth spike forty weeks from now..."

Lois Lane turned off the news. She hadn't even seriously been considering Plan B, but it was obvious that Blaze was taking measures to ensure her "heir" was born. The reporter didn't even bother to shower, just slipped into a pair of sweat pants and hoody and her running shoes.

Coffee was bought on the way. Women were talking. Lois tried to tune out the chatter, but she caught snatches anyway.

"...fire at the abortion clinic on 4th street. No one hurt, but it's out of operation for..."

"...my girl in Gotham? She went out and bought the pharmacy. Selling the pills at $500 a pop on ebay, guaranteed priority shipping, and she is raking it in..."

"...Okay, so my abuela caught me looking at how to do it with the coathanger on YouTube, and now I'm ground! I said I'm 18, you can't ground me, and then she pulled back her hand and called me..."

"...Blüdhaven is closer than Mexico and almost as cheap. Plus, the doc I know, sometimes he can be paid in pussy..."

Her feet guided her to the club. Empty, filled with the waste of last night's partying. All the booze locked away. Lois strode through the litter, thought about the women she'd found here, working their jobs and partying their asses off. It wouldn't surprise her if all four had their own rude awakening this morning.

Down the elevator. To the Black Door. Lois wasn't sure why she came here, except she didn't know where else to go. If Blaze wasn't here...she didn't know where to find her.

The Black Door was locked. Lois raised her hand...and knocked. A bolt slid back, and the door opened on silenced hinges.

The devil was by the bar, in a black leather vest and tight black leather pants that showed off the length of her cock sliding down her leg. Not in her human form either; skin as red and smooth as fresh blood, dark horns curled about a black mane of hair that framed a face like the bust of Nefertiti.

"Lois," Blaze said with a smile...that damn Mona Lisa smile, like she knew a secret that no one else did.

"I'm not getting an abortion," Lois said. "So knock off the crap. There are people that depend on those medications for more than just contraception."

"Of course, of course," the scarlet succubus raised a portion of the bar and moved behind it. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?"

"Taken care of," Lois said dryly as she moved up toward the bar. "Virgin bloody mary?"

"Certainly," Blaze swiftly moved to mix the drink. Lois didn't know why she felt the need for it right now, but she did.

Lois waited until Blaze slid the drink in front of her. Somehow, the reporter wasn't nervous. She brought the glass to her lips and sipped...and then drank a big gulp, letting the spiced tomato juice slide down her throat. The reporter licked her lips as she set the half-empty glass down, just now realizing how much she had needed that.

"So," Lois said. "Real talk. I'm pregnant. Our baby. Yours and mine. I'm keeping it, I'll carry it to term."

The reporter had thought about this all night, but it still felt weird to put it into words.

"Hmm," Blaze said. "And...?"

"And I don't want any interference," Lois said flatly. "No more of these anti-abortion stunts. You want to help cover the expenses of the pregnancy, help me get to appointments, be there at the birth, fine. But you don't own me just because I'm pregnant with your hellspawn."

Blaze nodded her head. Then she stopped, her pure white eyes catching and holding the reporter's own. The demon snapped her fingers.

Lois Lane's head hit the top of the bar heard enough to bounce. She sat there at an uncomfortable angle, breasts pushed into the edge of the bar, feet dangling off the school. The reporter tried to move...to lift a finger...to open her mouth...but all she could manage was to breathe, and even that felt autonomic, something she could barely control. The pregnant woman couldn't even swallow, and she felt the spittle drooling out of her mouth onto the bar top.

"I don't think you quite understand your situation, Lois," Blaze said patiently. A bar rag rubbed the spot where she had spilled what was left of her virgin bloody mary. "I owe you nothing. You are powerless compared to me. And if you run to Superman, or Zatanna, or any of your Justice League friends, I will leave you like this for the next forty weeks. Conscious. Aware. Unable to move or communicate. Flat on your back as your body goes to shit and your belly and tits balloon, until they finally have to cut it out of you."

Lois felt sweat running down her temples. Heart racing. She tried, with all her might, to move her lips, her tongue. To say a single syllable...and it wasn't working.

"And at night...when everyone is gone...I will slip into your room and fuck you. However I want. And if they haven't scraped out your uterus, I'll put another bastard into you...and maybe I'll keep doing that for as long as I please. Because I can, and because you can't do anything about it."

The pregnant reporter couldn't even shake with anger. Or bite her tongue and bleed to ****. Not that she would...but the cold, stark realization was settling in fast that she had no idea what Blaze was truly capable of. She was a demon from hell, and had impregnated Lois in an epic game of Twister, and because of that the reporter had thought her...harmless? No, but she had definitely underestimated her.

"So here's how it's going to be," Blaze said. "Every Friday after work, you're going to come to this bar. We're going to go into one of the back rooms. You're going to strip down so we can take your measurements and record your progress as you get bigger and bigger. Then you're going to drop on your knees and suck my cock...and I'm going to pay you two thousand dollars in cash. Because whores get paid...and you're going to need the money for the baby."

Blaze's bar rag pressed against the reporter's lips. For half a moment, Lois couldn't breathe.

"This isn't me asking you. There are no negotiations here. You talk to anyone about our arrangement, you're going to be the most popular quadriplegic pregnant fuck in the long-term care ward. You do as I say...and the only thing you'll lose is your pride and dignity."

Her fingers snapped. Lois sucked in air, suddenly able to move again. Her arms and legs were shaking from the adrenaline, and she could feel the impression that the hard bartop had made on her cheek. Blaze wiped the counter beneath her.

"See you Friday."

Lois Lane slunk away from the bar, like a dog with the tail between its legs.