Epilogue: Miscarriage

Six weeks. Blood in the toilet. Lois hadn't even cried when she flushed it. Went to the doctor just to be sure.

"I'm sorry Miss Lane...it happens," the dumpy blonde doctor said, a maternal hand on one of the reporter's shoulders. "There can be a lot of reasons. Immune reactions, something wrong with the fetus, certain genetic conditions...if it's any consolation, you appear completely healthy. I'll have the lab process your blood work, but there are no obvious symptoms of cervical or ovarian cancer. If you bring your partner in to give a sample, we can do a cross-check for common disorders that might make it more difficult for you to have children..."

The reporter took a breath. It would have been better if she had felt hollow, scooped out. But the doctor was right. She felt...healthy. Normal. Fine. Except for the hole in her heart.

"How soon," she said, her voice calm and steady. "Until we can try again?"

Blaze was in the kitchen when Lois got back to her apartment. She hadn't bothered with her human form, or any clothes beyond an apron, so the reporter could see the round crimson buttocks clearly. The demonic dickgirl approached cooking like alchemy. Pinch of this and a spoonful of that, and it seldom looked appetizing, but it was always delicious.

"Hey babe," the scarlet succubus said, turning toward her. A purple tentacle waved from the pot in front of her, and Blaze smacked it with a wooden spoon. "I'm thinking octopus tonight. I found this great..."

The white eyes hesitated, the mouth faltered and frowned. Lois stripped off jacket and shoes...and kept going. Shirt and pants, bra and panties, until the reporter was just in her socks by the time she reached her fiance. Yet there was something downcast about the set of the shoulders, the way the reporter's head hung, and she wouldn't meet her lover's eyes. Unbidden, Lois reached around and undid the knot that tied the apron around Blaze's waist, and let it too fall to the floor.

"Lois? Baby? What's wro—"

The tears, held in so long, came forth. Lois Lane curled up against her fiance's small, crimson breasts. Without comprehension, those warm, lean limbs wrapped around her and hugged Lois close, rocking gently back and forth as the warm tears rand down their naked breasts and belly. In between her legs, the demon could feel her cock stir.

Blaze said nothing, only held her close. Her eyes closed—and a third eye opened, scanning the bright aura before her. There was no sign of injury, no curse or dark red lines that might suggest trauma, only...then Blaze saw what wasn't there, the tiny empty space nestled between the reporter's hips.

"Oh," the demonic dickgirl said. "Oh sweetmeat, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I mean...you're...it sucks but we can still...I still love..."

"Angie," Lois said, clearly and distinctly. "Make love to me."

Blaze rubbed the reporter's back. She could feel her erection, pressed against the reporter's body.

"Are you sure?"

Lois raised her head. Her face was a mask of determination. The same terrible will and spirit that made the reporter such a beacon of life among the grey shades of the astral plane. She stared at Blaze as though she could see the demon's naked soul through those pure white eyes.

"I want you to put another baby in me."

Crimson hands reached down and curled into the reporter's ass. Lois half-jumped as Blaze lifted her up, with incredible ease, that superhuman strength belying her long, lean crimson limbs. She carried her lover into the bedroom, where the sheets were clean...one little domestic miracle that Lois had been able to get her lover to accomplish on a semi-regular basis.

The demon turned and sat on the edge of the bed. Lois raised herself up and reached down to position the cock at her slit. Slid down onto the familiar shaft with a well-practiced squat, letting the demonic dick nearly hit the back of her cunt, but stopping just before it would hurt.

"If it...if it happens again," Blaze said.

"Then we try again."

Angelica swallowed. "I mean...there are...fertility magics. Charms. Blessings. I could...they're not perfect. But they might...help."

Lois answered with a kiss. A soft kiss, just their lips meeting. Then something inside of Lois Lane seemed to melt. Her shoulders relaxed. Lips opened, tongue slipping out to seek that familiar smooth forked muscle. Then she was leaning forward, pressing her breasts against Blaze's, and the demon fell backwards onto the bed, her cock still embedded firmly in the warm, welcoming cunt.

They fucked in silence, Lois Lane's hips rolling, the demon's cock thrusting up and down to meet her. There was grief in there, and something beyond that. Some unspoken agreement that neither could nor needed to give voice to. An aching emptiness inside of Lois that needed to be filled, and would be...as many times as it took, whatever it took.

Until Lois Lane was thrusting her cunt the full length of that cock, pounding her cunt down, howling her pain and need into her lover's mouth as though giving Blaze her last breath, not caring about the pain or noise, the ache in her thighs, her pussy, her arm where they had drawn the blood. Lois pushed herself further and harder and faster until she screamed in her release—and then kept on, as she felt Blaze grunt and swell, the hot sticky seed burst deep inside—and then she collapsed on top of her, the cock still plugging her aching hole, and the tears came again.

Blaze's hands caressed her beloved's back and her mind revisited dusty memories...demons that were invoked to conceive, to protect the unborn, mother and child...and she laid there, ignoring her own body's needs, as Lois Lane cried herself to sleep in her arms. She knew that her fiance would want to go again, when she woke.

On the stove, a tentacle slid out of the pot, gripped the side, and heaved itself over the edge. Strange eyes looked around...and undisturbed, their dinner made its escape.