Epilogue: Cat's Out Of The Bag

It was her last pair of pants, and they were holding on for dear life as Lois leaned over her desk. Lois could feel her muffin-tops above the jeans, and hadn't even bothered with the belt. Any reasonable pregnant woman 22 weeks pregnant with quads would have switched over to maternity pants, or just gone with a dress. Yet here she was, in a long-sleeved turtleneck, ass squeezed into her final pair of jeans.

Because that was the only way to cover herself chin-to-ankle that didn't involve a burkha.

It wasn't that every inch of her under the clothing was dyed red as blood by the creeping taint. the splotching was not uniform, going mostly down the back of her left arm and right leg, in strange Rosarch patterns over her back and up the back of her neck, where it disappeared under her dark hair. Lois had been confident before she left the house that she was good to go...and thought that maybe she could still bluff out a couple more days before taking maternity leave.

As it was, the Daily Planet's most pregnant reporter was feeling every bit as bloated and heavy as she looked. The scale had said 150 lbs. when she had climbed on it this morning, and Lois could feel the added weight in her belly, her hips and thighs—and her aching breasts, which were one of the few things Lois hoped would stay when this pregnancy was finally done. She had to buy an 34E cup, and the look of jealousy on the faces of women had been deeply satisfying from a reporter that had struggled between a 30A and 32B her entire adult life.

The standing desk had been one of Perry's ideas—keep the workplace fit, active. Lois leaned away from the desk, both hands on her lower back as she wished the well-meaning editor could try standing for a couple hours while hauling around for babies in his belly.

As if on cue, Clark arrived with an ergonomic chair. Lois smiled her thanks. He had become very conscientious of her pregnancy, recently...and she suspected he might have a thing for pregnant women. There was the way she caught him out of the corner of her eye, looking at her huge tummy, which wouldn't have been out of place on a woman full-term with a single child.

Well, let him have a look, she decided.

She moved to sit...and for a moment lost her balance, falling forward. The reporter caught herself on the edge of the desk with her hands, a painful pulse pounding through her palms, legs gone wide to balance herself. Lois was alright, she didn't fall...only...

Riiiiip

Lois felt the sudden draft...and remembered that today of all days she hadn't worn panties. She turned to stare at Clark, who was right behind her, holding the chair for her...and his eyes were wide behind his black plastic frame glasses. In the reflection of the glass lenses, she could see her own scarlet slit on display.

"Lois!" he said, swallowed, "you're bleeding!"

The reporter pushed herself backward into the chair, and swiveled to see if anyone else had caught a glimpse.

Then she looked up at Clark standing up to her.

"I'm not bleeding," she said quietly.

"But I saw—we have to get you to a hospital!"

She reached forward and grabbed his hand.

"It's not like that, Clark." Lois said, then swallowed. "Look, keep your voice down, okay? Let me explain...you see, I haven't told you everything about my pregnancy..."

So she did. Clark listened. He was always good at that, listening. Yet now Lois could sense a tenseness in him, as though all the bumbling and distraction had gone, and he was focusing on her as thought listening with his entire body. Lois even carefully peeled away the turtleneck and wrist and neck, to show the spreading stain...and when she was done, he said something totally unexpected.

"I know Blaze," he said, his tone carefully controlled and utterly unreadable. "We've met before. And I think we should talk again."

Clark Kent didn't elaborate. What he did do was fetch a space shirt from his cubicle that Lois could tie around her waist so that it covered up the split in her backside, and told Perry that she was tired and he was taking her home for the day.

He didn't have a car...and, surprisingly, he headed for the roof rather than the elevator. Curiosity had Lois follow him, wondering what the heck he was getting at...did Clark Kent of all people have a helicopter license?

The answer came a moment later. There was a blur of movement, and where Clark Kent had stood a moment ago now stood Superman...only he left the plastic frames of his glasses for last, so that the reporter could see him take them off.

"Oh," Lois said as several pieces fell into place.

"It's okay," he said as he gathered the heavily pregnant woman into his arms. Her expanded bosom pressed against his chest in a way it never had before...but of course, Superman hadn't given her a ride since she had gotten knocked up.

It was strange to call the flight over to Lois Lane's apartment as uneventful. Yet in truth nothing happened; they shared no words, and Lois looked out at a city where winter was settling in, and few people saw the red-and-blue blur in the sky. Those who did probably thought Superman was taking her to the hospital to deliver, though that wouldn't be for weeks yet...

...and for the very first time, as Superman settled lightly onto the reporter's balcony, she wondered if he had been hurt that someone else had gotten her pregnant.

I mean, we were never a couple, really. Lois reflected. But there had been...was still...affection there.

Blaze answered the door nude, in her human form.

"Oh," she said, staring at Superman. "You."

She smiled at Lois as the pregnant woman tottered forward, but there were a tenseness in the apartment that didn't settle as Superman calmy stepped inside and closed the door to the balcony.

"He...um. Wardrobe malfunction," Lois said. "I had to tell him about...us. The stain. Everything."

"Everything?" Blaze said. The dickgirl stood stock-still as Lois grabbed a robe out of the closet and went into the bathroom to change. Instinct had the reporter keep the door cracked, so she could listen to their exchange.

"Lois seems happy," he said.

"We are happy," Blaze responded.

"Have you told her everything?"

A moment's pause.

"Everything important. She knows I'm a demon. Been going to one of your people for medical care. Doctor Midnite. He says the pregnancy is going smoothly."

"I haven't noticed any...activity from you, lately."

The demon sighed and sat on the bed.

"I've gone straight. Between ruling an evil empire and the love of Lois Lane...well, what would you choose? If it was her or crimefighting, I mean."

He didn't answer. Lois felt he didn't really have to.

"Completely straight?"

"Cashed out all my evil plans. I've got enough money to last us both of our lives. Abandoned my throne in hell, let my brother and the rest squabble over it. What, are you going to arrest me? Evict me back to hell? Because if you get between us, I'll give you such a fight..."

The threat leveled off into nothing. Blaze didn't want to boast.

"I don't want to leave." The demon said quietly. "I don't want to leave her. I'm...happy."

"You have changed," Superman said, after a long moment.

That's my cue, Lois thought as she slid out of the bathroom.

The robe was meant for a much-thinner Lois Lane. It tented out at her stomach, the sash tied above the mound, and her breasts spilled out over her belly to left and right. It had originally come down below the knee, but now hovered around mid-thigh. On vivid display was the red stain down her leg and arm, and over her breasts where the robe showed her cleavage. She handed Superman back Clark's shirt.

"So," Lois said, with a grin. "Problems?"

"No problems," Superman said. "I just wanted to extend...my blessings. You know it's a little old-fashioned of me, but I'm surprised you haven't gotten married yet."

Angelica, sitting on the bed, looked suddenly shook. "I was...I mean, I was going to..."

Superman smiled. "Well, I won't take up any more of your time. Take care, Lois. Blaze."

He nodded to them both and left himself out the balcony.

"Fucking big blue boyscout," Blaze growled. She pouted, and turned to Lois. "I was going to ask. Honest. I have the ring, it's just..."

Lois smiled. "Clark's a little hurt, is all. And a bit jealous. I think he wished that he had fucked these into me."

The reporter pulled the sash on the robe, and let it slide open. Her big crimson stomach stuck out like a great red balloon.

"You know, he saw my pussy? I was bending over the desk, and my pants ripped..."

The cock rose to attention as Lois pressed her belly against Angie's face. The demon rubbed her cheek against it, hands running lightly over the dark purple stretch marks on either side.

"You think he got a boner?" Blaze said. "I literally cannot imagine Superman with an erection. I mean, with all those half-naked super-tarts running around, maybe he's gay for Batman or somethin—"

Lois pushed hard, and Angelica fell back on the bed. Her cock was pointing straight in the air.

"If we are getting married," Lois said, voice half a purr. "Then we should celebrate."

Blaze didn't complain. Her wife-to-be clambered onto the bed, letting her heavy weight settle on the dickgirl beneath her. Reached back and eased the tip of that cock down to her pussy, and it sank in with a wet squelch.

The bed began to rock. Lois rolled her hips on top, controlling the pace. She had an itch that needed scratching, but more than that she needed to assure both of them that she wanted to be nowhere else than right here, with her. And Blaze's hands sank into the pregnant reporter's meatier hips as a drowning man grips a lifeline, and Lois knew that she felt it too. the need, the reassurance. That this thing they had, together, was something they both needed...and neither of them was going away. That nothing would tear them and the family they were building together apart.

Not even Superman.