Epilogue: Hot Pregnant Sluts

Asleep in her own bed, pussy sore but satisfied, Lois Lane was sure she must have dreamed. Yet in the morning she remembered nothing except the erotic nightmare of the night before, and that was easy enough to push in the back of her mind as she went through the motions of the day.

Yet at night, she found herself clicking through her email...the usual collection of bills, workmail, spam...and she paused above one piece in particular.

HOT PREGNANT SLUTS

Lois Lane swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. Something from one of the websites she had visited last night, even though her browser should have been wiped clean after she ended her session. Regardless, it was just spam. Something to delete out of hand.

Except...

Her pussy was...not wet, exactly. She reached into her panties, just to check. Ran her fingers over the dry labia, but the slit itself...a little moist. There was a familiar itch inside of her, and a familiar curiosity.

It wouldn't hurt just to click the link, she told herself, knowing it was a lie. Like no harm in having just one more drink, just one puff on a cigarette, just one pill...but Lois knew she didn't have an addictive personality. She wasn't like those porn-junkies who couldn't function without browsing some titties and cocks every fifteen minutes.

"I'm a grown adult," she whispered out loud, tapping on the link. "I can look at what I want."

The page loaded in a new tab. At first it was all black, and the shadowy reflection of Lois stared back at her, as though she was looking into a darkened mirror. The bra had come off as soon as she had gotten home, and the pants had come off not long after. Lois liked to lounge around in en déshabillé, and now she stared at her pert breasts, the plain panties covering her puss, the well-tone stomach...and on the screen a single sperm wiggled into view.

Lois blinked, watching the loan wiggler in the blackness. With the mirror-like effect, it almost seemed to be circling her belly, tail flagellating, the little head scooting around until it touched her pussy...and then the sperm stood there, wriggling furiously as if at some unseen barrier...and a glowing ovum slowly faded into view, blinking softly.

Curious, Lois touched her mouse...and the sperm moved in response. A simple cursor replacement. She smiled at the old trick, moved it over the ovum, and clicked.

The transition was as though the egg had become the entrance of a tunnel, growing outwards so that for a moment it seemed as if Lois was moving forward, and emerged at...a rather conventional video site.

Lois squinted. No. Not so conventional.

For one, all of the videos were about pregnancy, from women barely showing to those ready to pop.

For two, because the reporter recognized some of the women. She had seen one or two last night, down at the club. And one or two others...

Lois leaned forward, one hand in her panties, scrolling through the videos and studying faces of the "newly knocked up" category. The site format was fairly conventional, except for a lack of advertizing, and the search features were fairly intuitive. It took her only a few breathless moments to figure out where the controls were to organize the videos by upload date, and then she began to work backward through the following hours...days...a week ago...

...and she stopped and stared at the image of Diana Reynolds, one of the missing women, sitting on a toilet in a bra and no panties, holding a pregnancy test and smiling. Lois didn't have to read the caption to know it was positive; the video would hardly have been uploaded if it wasn't.

Lois checked the date on the upload: a week after Diana's disappearance. Uploader was B1az3. No comments. Cautiously, the reporter clicked the play button.

Diana Reynolds was in a dingy bathroom...it could be in the club. Some of the graffiti looked familiar. The video was being shot from smartphone, someone else holding it. Watching her as she hovered over the white porcelain, peed on the plastic stick...and then sat down, holding it in her hand, looking nervously back and forth from the stick to the camera...it was a ten minute wait. Whoever was holding the camera—it sounded like a woman—began to ask questions.

"Are you nervous?" "Do you want to be pregnant?" "When did you last have your period?"

Things like that. Diana answered half-shy, eyes blinking back and forth, clearly nervous...but also plainly excited. The bra was one of those sheer, thin negligee numbers that showed the pink outline of the nipples, and they were stiff and hard. Lois studied the face, red and flushed. The camera panned down to stare at the pale yellow thatch of her pussy, and Lois blinked as she saw something dripping out of the barely-visible cuntlips.

"She's just been fucked," Lois murmured, and suddenly remembered her own hand was at her pussy, which was now wet and hot.

It ended, at 12 minutes and 38 seconds, with Diana Reynolds holding up the little plastic stick, showing the two blue lines.

"I'm Diana," she told the camera. "And I'm newly knocked up."

Lois watched the video again, and again. Looking for more details, more hints, anything that could lead her to Diana. At some point, her fingers began moving over her damp sex, and her attention would falter as the camera focused on Diana's dripping snatch, her hard nipples...and only stopped when her eyes drifted down to the clock in the corner of the screen, and realized how late it was.

Before she went to sleep, she bookmarked the site—HOT PREGNANT SLUTS sitting there, waiting for her to return.