Epilogue: Punishment

"Sorry Clark," Lois said with a smile. "Not tonight, I'm meeting my fiance for dinner. Two month anniversary."

Clark Kent smiled, but Lois could tell he was chagrined, maybe embarrassed. Lois smiled and shifted in her seat, biting her lip to stifle a moan. She was still getting used to the ring...to both the rings, the one on her hand and the one piercing her clitoral hood. All through the day it would rub or bump against her sensitive little nub, and then Lois would find herself flustered, agitated, aroused. Yet Angelica had been very clear:

"You aren't allowed to touch yourself. Not without permission."

It was **** throughout the day. Thinking about her mistress. She had promised something special tonight, and Lois Lane couldn't help wondering what it would be. Idly, she tried to focus on her work—Lex Luthor announcing a new special project for LexCorp, Superman punching another giant robot downtown, increased uptick in exorcisms in Metropolis—there were times when she lost herself in writing and research when Lois could almost forget about the little secrets she carried. The clit ring. The tattoo. The collar.

And something else. Nestled deep within. Lois had taken three tests before scheduling the appointment, but the doctor had confirmed it. Fit and careful with her diet as Lois was, she hadn't even gained a pound yet—and she wondered, really wondered, whether she should tell Blaze about it or just—take care of it quietly, before it got too late.

Lois knew that was a selfish way to think of things, but the truth was she was enjoying her life right now. She worked hard, and she played hard. Her mistress was good to her...would leave her gasping for breath, drenched in sweat, begging for relief...and then she would make Lois cum and cum and cum in a way that no one had ever managed to before. The reporter almost shook to think about the games they played, with handcuffs and blindfolds, latex and paddles...a whole new world for Lois to explore.

A baby would just get in the way.

Lois counted the minutes until she was off of work. Caught herself rubbing her ass on the chair and **** herself to stop. Mistress had told her not to touch herself, and Lois wanted to hold off. To see what special event that Blaze had for her tonight. Maybe another tattoo...or nipple rings...

She was still running through the possibilities as she got to the door of her apartment. Her cheeks flushed as she wondered what Mistress Blaze would have for her loyal ****.

The door swung open as Lois put the key in the lock.

Blaze stood in the kitchen. Naked, her dark eyes fixing on Lois Lane's automatically. They were like the eyes of a cat, that seemed to flash unnaturally in the darkness.

"In."

It was her dom voice, and Lois stepped forward, closing the door behind her. Suddenly, all of her sexual excitement was transitioning into apprehension. The dickgirl wasn't smiling. Her face was blank, unreadable, the tone of her voice utterly serious.

"Strip."

Lois blinked in the darkness, not sure what the game was, yet Angelica's voice brooked no reply. Quickly, Lois dropped her coat to the floor, stepped out of her shoes, began to peel off shirt and pants...

Angelica Blaze stared at her, and suddenly Lois realized that the whole apartment smelled like her. Like one of those large animal enclosures at the zoo where the carnivores were kept. Her mistress seemed to loom in the darkness, and Lois could hardly see as she shucked off bra and panties, standing in the mess of her own clothing, everything except her collar, still not sure what was going on.

A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her painfully toward the bedroom. For a moment, Lois felt a flutter of hope—this was all just part of the game!—but then they veered to the right into the bathroom, and the harsh white lights went on as the dickgirl **** Lois Lane onto the toilet.

Lois blinked, looked around...there was a box by the sink that hadn't been there this morning. A box of digital pregnancy tests. Blaze ripped it open with her fingers and extracted one. She handed it to Lois.

"Pop quiz." The dickgirl still wasn't smiling...and Lois stared up at her, violet eyes wide, mouth open.

She knew. Somehow, Blaze knew. Lois shook in sudden fear. There had been times in their relationship when it had almost seemed like Blaze had been reading her mind...but this...breaking into her apartment, forcing her to take a test...how had she done it? Why?

The reporter swallowed, voice shaking a little.

"I don't need to take a test," she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, released it. "I had a doctor's appointment yesterday. He says...five, maybe six weeks along."

The silence grew.

"I...didn't know how to tell you. I didn't know...I didn't want..." Lois fought back sudden tears. "I didn't want to lose you."

"You've been a bad girl," Angelica said. "Bad girls need to be punished, don't they?"

Lois looked at her. Was that a trace of a smile? Were the features a little less harsh than they had been? The reporter lowered her eyes.

"Yes, mistress."

"Good. Lean back."

Lois pressed her back against the toilet. With her thighs spread, there was a gap between her legs that led to the bowl. Blaze moved in front of her left hand lifting her great cock...still not hard...and Lois realized what form her punishment would take.

"When I marked you as mine, that meant everything. Including your womb. Did you really think I would abandon you?"

The reporter had nothing to say. Her eyes were fixated on the cock—the same cock that had knocked her up. She knew each and every inch of it, intimately.

"Maybe you're like a bad puppy. Maybe I need to rub your nose in it."

Without warning, hot piss burst from the end of the dick. It caught the reporter in the eye, and Lois jerked back, but Blaze was there, grabbing her fiance's hair. Holding the reporter's head in place as the hot, stinging urine splashed across her face, into her nose, her mouth...then, after Lois was sputtering and coughing, the stream was dying doing, and Lois felt the hot splash of it on her stomach, running over the tattoo, to drip down into the bowl between her legs.

Blaze moved closer, cock still in hand, and rubbed the dripping piss-stinking cock across the reporter's lips.

"Open." Angelica said. "Clean me."

Lois Lane did. Shaking, left eye stinging, bathed in the dickgirl's urine Lois took the soft shaft in her mouth and began to suck it, like she always did. Her tongue running over and behind the glands, playing with the little slit. Just like that, the hand eased up on the reporter's hair, and then both hands moved to the reporter's shoulders, fingers massaging her back as Lois worked the hardening shaft deeper into her mouth.

"It's okay Lois. I forgive you. All that I ask is that you love, honor, and obey."

Stupid warm tears ran down the reporter's cheeks. Her emotions were getting the better of her. For a moment she had really been afraid of what her fiance...her mistress...would do to her.

Blaze pulled her cock out of the reporter's mouth with a wet schlorp. Bent down until their noses touched. The dickgirl was smiling again.

"Now...who's my dirty girl?"

"I am, mistress," Lois said, with a sniffle.

"That's right," and heedless of the taste of her own piss, Blaze tilted her head and kissed Lois on the mouth.

"You know I love you, right?" Angelica asked her, when they had finished.

"I know, mistress."

"And did you know...that pregnant women have a higher threshold of pain?"

This time it was Lois Lane's turn to grin. The next eight and a half months would be interesting.