Epilogue: Hellhound On Her Trail

It was the dogs that Lois Lane noticed first.

On her daily walks to and from work. Dogs would whine and pull at their leashes as the reporter walked past. Their soulful little eyes would stare at her a little more intently, their mouths would open as they began to pant, nostrils flaring to snuffle after her scent.

The reporter did her best to ignore it. Just like she tried not to stare at the message branded above her mons. The metal rings locked together so that she couldn't access her pussy. Reminders of that night...

Three weeks and she still woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, drenched with sweat, heart thundering in her chest. Three weeks of little sleep and the gnawing, aching need between her legs. Of shameful thoughts and guilty dreams she couldn't tell anyone.

She noticed the weight gain, of course. Just a couple pounds. The barest of curves to her once-flat stomach. Nothing unusual about that, the way she hadn't been sleeping. Her diet and exercise program had gone all to hell, and she could feel it affecting her life in lots of little ways. One trip to the grocery store she'd actually bought a bag of dog treats—and, to her surprise, had eaten half of them in a single craving-satisfying session in the wee hours of the morning.

Since then, she'd put them on her list for every weekly trip to the grocery. They weren't the worst snack in the world, after all. Not fatty, no sugar, good for her teeth...Lois found herself crunching on the thin dog-bone shaped biscuits in odd hours at home, trying to make sure that her work at least didn't suffer.

It was around the time she missed her period that she saw the dog.

Utterly out of place in that alley. Bigger than a mastiff, long black-and-grey fur that blended easily into the shadows, more wolf than dog. It should have been in some primeval forest, bringing down elk and chasing sabertooth cats up trees. Like the smaller, tamer, domestic breeds that had been giving Lois Lane more attention lately, there was a disconcerting way it would stare at her...as if watching her every move.

She watched the pregnancy test as the blue "+" faded into view. Outside of her apartment was a long, lonely howl that seemed to set half the dogs in the city into joining the chorus. Lois Lane nearly choked on her dog biscuit.

Doctor Midnite ran the sonogram sensor across her belly. Lois Lane had stopped trying to suck it in; the weather was cool enough that she could get away with puffy sweaters and hoodies, at least for a while.

"Hmm," the old man hummed, the light of the monitor reflected in his shaded glasses.

"Is that a good hmm or a bad hmm?" The reporter joked.

"The largest dogs, like the English mastiff, is comparable in mass to a human being," the silver-haired doctor. "If you were a dog of comparable size...I'd say you're at the start of your second semester, and there are four fetal heartbeats. If gestation proceeds apace, you should deliver in about six weeks."

He frowned and moved the sensor in a wider circle around her little pooch of a belly.

"Hmm."

"Doc..." Lois Lane said.

"Have you been experiencing any other changes in behavior, appetite...body?"

"I, um." She rubbed her ankles together. "I've been snacking on dog biscuits. Is that bad?"

He paused. "No. Your body generally has an idea of what it needs in terms of nutrients. I'm going to prescribe you some prenatal vitamins, just to be on the safe side. Because of the swiftness of the pregnancy compared to a normal human term, you probably won't see all of the same effects...if you haven't had morning sickness by now, you might not get it at all. However, you might experience other symptoms."

"Doc, give it to me straight."

"Nipple growth and sensitivity, possibly pain or discharge; weight gain, tiredness, frequent urination—you should take it easy for the next six weeks." He coughed. "I do have some concerns. One, this is a highly magical pregnancy. Normally canine sperm cannot join with human eggs, and any canine embryo would be rejected. So I...suspect that as the pregnancy progresses, you may start to exhibit more canine traits. That is speculative, we'll have to monitor it week by week. Then there's the issue of the birth..."

He stared between the reporter's legs. Even though she had a skirt on now, the reporter had been obliged to show him the chastity device.

"As your physician, I must recommend the chastity device be removed no later than when labor begins. I can do a Caesarian, but it is risky, especially if a fetus has already entered the birth canal."

Lois Lane buried her head in her hands. "So I'm turning into a bitch, and if I can't get these rings removed, the puppies may die."

"Yes," Doctor Midnite said. "And your life would be in danger as well."

It was night when Lois was back on the street. She had the vacation time. That wasn't the problem, really. It was the whole situation. Dr. Midnite was a blessing, but she didn't want to even think about letting anyone else know...

A growl from the alley caught her attention. The dog from before padded forward, utterly silent. Even bigger than Lois had thought, the back humped into an arching mound of fur...that suddenly shook itself and split, so that Lois Lane was mere feet away from a wolf bigger than she was, a wolf with three heads...

"Cerberus..." Lois said, and the terrible thing was the wet dampness between her legs, dribbling out between the rings that locked her pussy shut tight. Over three weeks without sex, and something about the animalistic reek of this alpha predator was sending confusing signals to her brain and body.

"N-nice doggy. L-look, I know I must smell...weird..."

Black lips peeled back, revealing long white fangs in pink gums. It took another step toward her...and then reared up on its hind legs...and there in its crotch Lois Lane saw a very familiar fluted pink prong, with a dark swollen knot above the ballsack.

"No..." she took a step back, wondering where she could run or hide. "No, I can't...I don't want to..."

A white blur blew past her, followed by a wind that almost bowled the pregnant reporter over. She saw the streak of white hit the rearing mythological canine straight in the chest...and Cerberus was blown backwards, tumbling snout over tail back into the alley.

Floating in mid-air was a medium-sized white dog with a familiar red cape. He turned to look at Lois once, with oddly intelligent eyes, and yapped once...then dropped onto all fours on the ground, and trotted to stand protectively next to Lois.

She breathed a sigh of relief, one hand cradling her belly. The other reached down to scratch the Last Mutt of Krypton behind the ears. Sometimes, it was good to know who your pack was.

"Good boy Krypto. C'mon, let's go home. I'll split a dog biscuit with you."