Epilogue: Breeding Jimmy Olsen

There was a strange air in the Daily Planet offices. Lois Lane didn't know what it was. All the women were friendlier to her than they had been before—there was nary a day when Lois didn't find a little chocolate or other present at her desk, women always wanted to chat with her over coffee, there were invitations to lunch and dinner, and Lois hardly needed to ask for a favor when she needed it.

"Test came up positive last night," Cat Grant had told her.

"Congratulations," Lois said, then blinked. "I mean, if you're going to keep it—"

"That's the plan," Cat said with a smile. "I know it's early but I want you to think about...maybe being the godmother?"

Lois blinked. "Why—of course Cat, I'd be honored."

The reporter had **** the smile. It wasn't the first request she'd gotten. Most of the women in the office seemed to have popped up pregnant in the last couple of months, and each of them had approached her and asked her confidentially to be godmother. Lois didn't know how to turn any of them down, so she had smiled and said yes—and always, always there would be that hungry look in the woman's eyes, the kind that Lois saw now in Cat Grant's gaze, and Lois excused herself and slipped into the hall.

Jimmy Olsen was wearing a dress.

The petite redheaded photographer had traded in his bowtie for a green ribbon in his hair, which he was evidently growing out, the same green as his lipstick and eyeshadow. The dress was an armless blue smock that barely covered his ass, buttoned down the front. The long skinny legs were in hose, and had evidently been recently shaved or waxed. Jimmy was fiddling with one shoe: blue, one-inch heels that matched the dress. Lois shook her head...and then he turned to her and she caught sight of the little gold pendant at his neck, letters that spelled out a single word.

CROATOAN.

The reporter's nostrils flared. Pupils dilated. Jimmy's smile widened as something tented crotch of Lois Lane's skirt. They were just outside the family restroom, and as she grabbed at him, he sidestepped and backed inside. The dickgirl reporter pushed through and he twirled, to lock the door.

Her hands pushed the skirt up. Kinky Jimmy wasn't wearing anything beneath the hose, his twinky little bottom pressed into the dark sheer fabric, his cute hairless balls visible.

Pussy. Ass. It was all a hole, and Lois Lane felt the need to breed...

She freed her cock and pressed the head right between those tight buns. The fabric stretched and split, and Jimmy trembled as the hard dick pressed against his sissy hole...everything he had heard the women in the bathroom say had turned out to be true. She really was...

Lois thrust her hips forward so hard that Jimmy's cock slammed into the bathroom door. The reporter leaned in close, her hot breath in his ear, her tits pressed into his back. Her hand grabbed the side of his face and **** it against the door...her tongue found his ear. Slid in, wet and warm, to squirm inside the canal. Teeth found his earlobe, and he gasped at the sudden pain...

...and the cock slammed home.

Even with all of his preparations, the whole length of the monster between the dickgirl's legs nearly split his sissy asshole wide. The **** of the thrust pushed him up onto his toes..and her left hand settled over his, fingers intwined as she began to hump his ass. Slow at first. She never took her cock out, just pushed it around inside, to stretch his boy-pussy wider and wider, to get him used to her size, to crush his limp little prick against the door hard and leave a stain on the front his dress...and then her hungry mouth found his neck. Sucked hard as she ground his ass into oblivion, and Jimmy cried aloud as the hickey formed beneath her lips.

She needed to cum. Needed to breed his boy butt...and when he could speak he begged her, in his high-pitched girly voice:

"G-get me p-pregnant!"

With fanatic strength she pulled Jimmy backward and grabbed his legs. Her back and arm muscles screamed as she pulled his legs up and turned him around so that they both faced the mirror. So that he could see as she lifted him up and down on her cock, as his own pathetic little clit leaked and flopped about...and it wasn't long until she burst deep inside of him, and Jimmy shook and stifled a scream...and then he nearly pitched onto the floor, ass in the air, cum bubbling out of his butt and dripping out of the ragged hole ripped in his pantyhose as Lois staggered backward and blinked and...

"Jimmy? I'm sorry, did I wander into the wrong restroom..."

He scrambled to his feet. Held out his necklace in front of her face. Lois Lane stood back, eyes focused on the word that glittered between his hands.

CROATOAN.

He grinned as her cock immediately halted in mid-wilt and got hard again. Backed up toward the sink as the dickgirl closed in.

"That's it," Jimmy said, half-breathless. "Breed me...just like you bred them..."

Maybe she couldn't. But she was going to try.

Outside the family restroom, women smiled at one another at the gasps and grunts that were barely visible in the hall. By unspoken agreement, a few of them formed a line.

Lois Lane wasn't going to get any more work done today.