Epilogue: Pent Up

"Babe, can you, uh—"

"Of course, sweetmeat."

Lois Lane stood up. The caged cock stood straight out in front of her, the urethra pressed against the piss-slit. Metal bands bit into the swollen red flesh. The runes on the heavy rings that clamped tight around the base of her cock and her balls glowed dimly as they bled off some of her excess demonic power...but there was no way the reporter could get her pants on and go to work like this.

At thirteen weeks pregnant, Blaze's pregnancy was little more than a pooch of a belly...but it was still a strain to the reporter to see her wife so swelling with life...there were other changes, too. Angie had started to wear her hair longer, and her nipples, while still pink, were puffier than before. The reporter wasn't sure if Blaze was going to go up in cup size at all with the pregnancy, but a part of her was dying to see those pert B-cups blossom...

The former demon took out the leather straps and ran them through the loops just below the metal cup that held the reporter's glans, and the other one mid-way down the shaft. Lois lifted her arms up so that her pregnant wife could pull them back, until the metal spine of the cock cage touched the reporter's abs, and tie the lines in place. Lois stared down between her small breasts to see her own urethra wink back at her through the slit in the metal cup.

"Three more weeks, darling," Blaze said, and reached down to give the reporter's scarlet testes a friendly rub. "Your body just needs to get acclimated to all of my power that you've absorbed."

"Three more weeks and my balls are going to explode," Lois grumbled as she struggled into her skirt. The cock was not so big that it represented a serious challenge to getting dressed, when tied down. Lois had tried strapping it to her thigh, but with the size of her testes that had proven impractical...although Blaze had taken no end of amusement the first time Lois had managed to sit down on her own balls.

Of course, given that they'd been fucking like rabbits before this, Lois knew the cage was affecting her wife too. Angelica Blaze Lane had gone into total cocktease mode, turning the heat up until it was sweltering in the apartment, seldom wearing more than socks. Lois often came home to find Blaze gently masturbating with a spatula while dinner was in the oven...and Lois tried to help her out, with her mouth and hands and various toys...and the little minx took a terrible thrill at night of rubbing her ass up against the reporter's trapped erection before sighing and reaching into the drawer to pull out one of Lois Lane's old vibrators...

There was a special circle of hell, Lois Lane knew, where you lay in bed while your wife buzzed away with an electrical toy between her legs. Intellectually, Lois knew that it couldn't last more than half an hour, yet night after night she lay awake, sometimes feeling Angie's back brush against her arm as she gently fucked herself to sleep.

At work, Lois left the hat on. The horns had not disappeared, and Angie had hinted that they might be permanent...but Zatanna had said they might disappear if she wore the cage long enough. It was the one shred of hope that Lois had left these days. Three more weeks, and she might be done with this contraption. Go back to fucking her wife. Go back to taking a piss without making a mess.

These were Lois Lane's thoughts when Jimmy Olsen walked into her office in a minidress that barely covered his green striped panties, and matching striped leggings that went up to mid-thigh.

"Morning Mrs. Lane!" He said.

"Good morning, Jimmy," Lois said back. She had long since stopped asking what his gender or sexuality was. Jimmy was wearing a dress today. That was it. Tomorrow it might be a bow tie and suspenders. She wasn't sure if he was on hormone replacement therapy or if it was just a fashion choice, and right now she had bigger, harder things to worry about. Like trying not to slam her desk drawer into her dick again.

Jimmy hovered in front of her desk, a pensive look on his face. Lois inwardly sighed and met his gaze.

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"I, uh...I thought you might like to...join us. Next week. For the meeting." He said.

Before Lois could ask who "us" was, Jimmy slid a piece of paper in front of Lois.

It was a flyer, a cheap thing someone had printed at home. Front and center was an image of a pink plastic chastity device.

"Lock and Key Fellowship," she read aloud. "Draw strength by sharing your story and experiences with others. Get tips and advice on managing your lockdown. You don't have to let your master/mistress know! Free coffee. No boltcutters."

When Lois Lane looked up again, Jimmy had lifted his skirt. There was a distinctive bulge in his green-striped panties...but it was too angular for a simple flaccid cock. The reporter sagged a little as she realized what it must be.

"I just want you to know, you're not alone," Jimmy said. "It's a great group. It's helped me cum—er, come to terms with a lot!"

"Thank you, Jimmy," Lois said as she slid the flyer into her desk drawer. "I'll think about it, I promise."

He gave his boss a smile as bright as a new penny...and then he was off, skirt flouncing, almost skipping through the office.

In the silence of her office, Lois Lane slowly crumpled forward and let her head hit the desk. Her cock began to throb...and it wasn't even nine A.M. yet.

Three more weeks felt like an eternity.