Epilogue: More Alternative Gratuitous Pregnant Sex

"How did I let you talk me into this?" Blaze sighed. "Can you move?"

Lois Lane twisted her neck inside the stock. The pregnant reporter's face was half-obscured by the latex mask, her dark hair popping out of the top in a ponytail. Her arms, still in casts, were level with her head and carefully locked into the armholes of the stock board.

They'd had to cut a hole for her belly in the latex outfit. At twenty-eight weeks pregnant, Lois Lane would have never fit into the tight-fitting suit anyway, but after weeks of bedrest the reporter had felt herself pack on the pounds. The great dome of her stomach looked like she'd swallowed a pumpkin, and her breasts had lost something of their perkiness as they had softened and swelled, the nipples now a light brown. Little clamps grabbed onto her nips, and small weights hung down on chains.

Her legs were straight, tightly enclosed in latex, and ending in impossible six-inch stiletto heels that the reporter could never have walked in, much less waddled in. Yet they gave her ass that extra bit of lift, putting her pussy and anus on perfect display. Blaze admired the latex-clad expanse of the reporter's back, which dipped down a little from the weight of her gravid belly.

"Not an inch," Lois said. "It's perfect. Let's go."

Blaze, who had opted over nudity rather than any of her wife's bondage gear, began to lube up the hose. With her left hand, the demon pried one of Lois's ass cheeks apart...and the sight of the familiar little pink pucker overwhelmed her for a moment, as she bent forward to kiss it. Her tongue slithered into the soft, warm orifice...

"Angiiiiieeee," Lois whined. "Don't tease me!"

Blaze took her tongue out of her pregnant wife's ass with a wet slurp. She brought the hose to the reporter's anus and gently pressed it in.

It wasn't a big hose, maybe an inch in diameter, but unlike the bog-standard garden hose this was medical-grade silicone, soft and sterilized. Once the demonic dickgirl had slid about three inches into her wife's receptive anus, Blaze let the reporter's asscheek go...and shifted her grip, so that she could set the funnel in the other end in its holder.

"Okay then," Blaze said. "Here comes the first gallon."

It wasn't a gallon, of course. A normal enema was measured in milliliters. Yet Blaze knew that Lois couldn't see her slowly pour the pint of saline into the funnel...and her wife's overactive sexual imagination would fill in the gaps.

The pregnant woman panted. She'd had plenty of enemas before...including right before tonight's festivities, to clean out her colon...but this time was different. This time, she was testing her limits. The reporter loved the feel of the latex gripping her skin...and now of the saline rushing into her bowels.

It was cold...and as always, the sensation filled Lois of pressure. Weight. In this position, the liquid seemed to rush into her intestines, which were themselves crushed and pushed out the way by the reporter's swollen womb. Lois bit her lip as she felt the liquid settle in. There were times, when she was having an enema, when she would just hold it in as long as possible, just so that she could feel it press against her walls, and feel the need to vacate build and build inside of her...so intense that she thought she might burst...

"More," she said.

"Okay," Blaze dipped the other pint in. That made a solid quart of fluid, and as much as the demon figured it was safe for the human to handle, at least outside of those strangely terrifying medical settings. The demon took the funnel and raised it up as the liquid swirled down into her wife's guts...and maybe it was the demon's imagination, but she swore she saw the gravid belly visibly swell as gravity **** the saline deeper into her wife's guts, forcing the abdomen to round out...

If the dickgirl wasn't hard before, she was now. Great purple veins standing out on her cock, the head weeping pre-cum. **** for release.

"O-oh no," Lois said in a playful falsetto. "The evil ogre has put me in stocks...in my condition! Where anyone might come and take their pleasure of me..."

The black hose looked like a tail. Blaze pulled it out, and Lois immediately cinched...though not fast enough to prevent a dribble of saline to leak out of her anus. Blaze dropped the hose and picked up the leather belt.

"Don't you let that out slut!"

SMACK

The flesh whitened under the **** of the blow, and Lois Lane's whole body tensed, belly quivering as the color came back to her backside, a vivid red stripe right across both cheeks.

"Whore," Blaze growled, deep and venomous.

SMACK

"Been selling your worthless cunt, haven't you?"

SMACK

"I'll bet you think some hero is going to come and save you? Some white knight? No! they'd take one look at your bloated carcass and know you for the complete fucking cooze that you are."

SMACK

"A cocksocket, a cum dump, who begs every day to suck cock, thighs dripping with seed!"

SMACK

The reporter's legs were shaking, and Blaze paused, panting. Hoping she hadn't overdone it. The pregnant woman's ass was covered with vivid red stripes, and liquid was dripping down from the asshole to the bare cunt, to splash onto the floor.

"Yes, master!" Lois cried. "I'm a worthless cunt! I'm your worthless cunt! I need your cock! I can't live without it. Please, fuck me! Fuck my slutty pussy! Plug me up!"

Even knowing it was part of the script, Blaze's heart fluttered. She dropped the belt and pried the ass apart with both hands. Pressed her cock against that poor, abused little hole.

"Shut your cockhole, slut! I'll fuck whatever hole I choose...and wipe my dick on your face when I'm done!"

Blaze congratulated herself at this little improvisation...and then pushed forward.

It was an interesting contest. Lois desperately wanted the cock in her ass, but the pregnant woman was also doing her best to hold in a quart of saline. Ample lube put the onus on Blaze's side: she pressed forward, prying the reporter's asshole open, not caring about the bit of saline that spilled out...and the pregnant woman groaned as with a final thrust, the demonic dick burst through her damn into her saline-filled asshole.

Which was a feeling all on its own. Blaze had fucked Lois Lane's ass dozens of times over the last few months, but the warm, wet, sensation of the enema-fluid was something new. Shaking herself, Blaze remembered the script. She brought her bare hand down on the reporter's asscheek with an openhanded slap.

"Tighten up that asshole, whore! Tighten it I say!"

The ring of muscle clutching around Blaze's prick tightened a fraction...but the succubus could already tell that her wife was near her limit. The demon dropped the pretense and, reaching forward to fondle the woman's pregnant belly, began to hump her ass like a dog mounting a bitch. Short, violent thrusts, and Lois braced by the stocks, her legs threatening to buckle at any moment, utterly lost in the moment...and Lois Lane screamed in pleasure, louder and shriller than ever before...

There was a crash of breaking glass, and then Blaze heard the last name she ever wanted to hear from her wife's lips.

"Superman!"

Just at that moment, Blaze came. Her spine stiffened as black sperm spooled out of her cocktip, deep into the watery abysses of her wife's lower intestine. The demon gave the Last Son of Krypton a weak smile. His eyes had begun to glow red.

"You..." He stepped forward, hands balled into fists, when Lois stopped him.

"Superman, no! You don't understand! This is...we're...it's consensual," the reporter paused and took a breath. "Um, Superman, this is my wife Angelica Blaze. Angie, this is..."

"We've met," Blaze said.

The Man of Steel paused. He looked from Lois back to Blaze and back again. Lois could almost see the wires cross inside his brain...and he settled with his hands on his hips, his eyes no longer glowing.

"You're supposed to be on complete bed rest," he said. "Isn't this the sort of thing how you broke your arms last time?"

"Casts come off next week," Blaze said.

"Don't...look, can you go put some pants on, or something?" he said, voice testy.

"Sure, no problem, I'll just..."

Blaze pulled out, quickly and without preamble. Which is when the reporter's legs collapsed. The sudden weight of her pregnant stomach and the change of position precipitated the last thing that Lois Lane ever wanted to do. Squat on the floor in front of Superman, as a quart of saline splashed out onto the tile floor. The Man of Steel watched this with something between fascination and horror.

"She's, uh...she's really been needing it lately," Blaze said. Her eyes flashed to Superman's crotch...and Lois, still stuck in the stocks, noticed the bulge too.

"While you're here," Lois squirmed a little. "Um. I've been meaning to ask. How do you two feel about...swinging?"