Epilogue: Showing, Not Telling

"Honey?" Lois called out from the bedroom as she stared at her clothes. "What happened to my pants?"

"Ruined in the wash," her fiance called back from the kitchen. "Wear a skirt! You'll look sexy!"

Lois Lane sighed. At first, when her blouses had been ruined, the reporter had chalked it up to Blaze not knowing how to run the washing machine. Now her pants. And to top it all off, the clothes she had less seemed to be getting shorter and tighter...not that she could blame Angelica for that.

She picked through what was left of her wardrobe, trying to find something suitable for work. At ten weeks pregnant, she was starting to show. Not enough that anyone would say she was pregnant, but the waist was definitely thickening. While her stomach hadn't taken on that round, dome-like shape she knew it would, it was already sticking out as far as her breasts...which were very sore lately.

Lois also suspected they were growing, or that her lover had managed the impressive feat of causing her bras to shrink, because it was hard to find anything in her underwear drawer that would contain her ladies comfortably any more. Even the black lacy number from last week seemed too small, her breasts pushed up against her chest, threatening to overflow the cups.

I definitely need to go in for a new fitting, Lois decided.

What the gravid reporter managed to put together was a knee-length black shirt, fairly professional looking, and blouse at least three sizes too small, which barely covered her boobs and left her belly exposed. The jacket that went with it seemed smaller too, especially across her chest, emphasizing her boobs, but if she sucked her gut in and held her breath, her navel wasn't exposed to the elements. Provided she didn't move or eat.

"Pancakes are ready!" Angelica announced from the kitchen, and Lois inwardly groaned as her stomach growled. The reporter was eating for two, but she still felt like Blaze was trying to fatten her up.

At the offices of the Daily Planet, Lois felt her heart beat faster as she stepped out of the elevator. Part of her wanted to take a deep breath, but she felt the fabric of her jacket strain as she filled her lungs, the two buttons she could button holding on for dear life. Smiling to cover her nervousness, she stepped lightly through the office, feeling cold air on her stomach. Wondering how many of them could see her belly, how many of them would stop and wonder...

"Gee Miss Lane," Jimmy Olsen said. "Have you gained weight?"

Around her, the office went silent. Lois Lane turned her now rictus smile on the photographer.

"Jimmy," she said sweetly, voice dripping acid. "You—"

"Is that a ring?" Clark Kent said, stepping in to save the day. "May I see it?"

Awkwardly, Lois raised her left hand. Angelica's idea of a wedding ring involved a rock big enough for Lex Luthor to plot to steal it to power some super-laser. It weighed heavy on her hand, and seemed to have been carved entirely out of a single gigantic diamond.

The women of the office flocked over to see it, whistling in awe and not a little bit of jealousy. The reporter spent the next half hour answering the usual bevy of questions: How had they met? What was the lucky boy/girl's name? Had they set a date and venue yet? Blah blah blah. Lois felt a little flustered at all the attention, keenly aware of how she must look...breasts barely contained, stomach almost spilling out as if to advertise her pregnancy, and a ring fit for the wife-to-be of a dictator.

Eventually, the crowd dispersed, most of their questions not answered to their satisfaction. Lois Lane's stomach rumbled, and she wondered if her outfit could survive a raid on the donuts in the break room...

By the time Lois arrived home, her coat only had one button fastened. The office had insisted in taking her out to lunch—to an all-you-can-eat buffet. She felt bloated, afraid she'd made a pig of herself, the waistband of her skirt digging in to her gut. But at least the day was over.

There was a great sense of relief as the reporter finally undid her jacket and shirt, letting her belly hang out. The bra snapped as she worked to undo the strap, and Lois consigned the broken lady holster to the trash, walking around the apartment topless. Her breasts were criss-crossed with red marks from the elastic straps, too tight on the sensitive flesh.

Even getting skirt off was more of a hassle than getting it on had been this morning. Lois squeezed her legs together, pushing the cloth tube over her hips. She could hear Angelica watching television in the living room. Some program on diets for pregnant women. Lois shook her head. Knowing the demon, she'd be at least at half-mast, stroking her cock while looking at the bulging bellies and maternity dresses. If she ever discovered all the porn on the internet, their relationship would be doomed...

Lois laid down on the bed to remove socks and undies. She moved to the underwear drawer to get out a nightie, the one that Blaze liked, which showed more than it concealed...and, pulling out the drawer, stopped to assess the situation.

"Honey?" Lois called out from the bedroom, a touch of agitation creeping into her voice, sure she already knew the answer. "What happened to my panties?"