Epilogue: Signs

It was the little things that caught Lois Lane's attention, the days and weeks after her night out. Things that didn't add up, but stood out to her later. Signs of something that she would notice, then put out of her mind.

The day after, a case of Fertile Valley Water had shown up at Lois Lane's door. Lois had broken the seal on a bottle almost without thinking, remembering the chalky taste of the minerals. Lois had stopped taking her nightly glass of wine. The water quenched her thirst better at bedtime.

That first week, during the day, busy with her work, Lois could put the memories of that night aside...then at night, all alone, after she had finished writing and researching, she couldn't keep them out. Then she would spread her legs, run her fingers between her slit...but how inadequate that felt now, how insufficient! She would rub herself to sleep, and wake up for a cold shower, throwing herself into her job just to try and hide the dissatisfaction she felt.

A week later, her breasts felt puffy and achy, like they sometimes did with a bad period. Except her familiar flow didn't come; a few red spots, but nothing else. A sense of disappointment ran through Lois, at what this signified. A part of her had really wanted to be pregnant, she realized...and even though she told herself that it had just been the night, that she'd been drinking, maybe hypnotized...Lois couldn't bring herself to think of it as ****. She had given herself, had wanted to be fucked. And sighed as she rubbed her flat stomach, feeling oddly hungry.

Her breasts were definitely swollen though; Lois moved up to her larger sized bras. Normally her period left her sensitive, sometimes emotional, but all that week Lois felt weirdly calm, except for her nightly masturbation sessions. It annoyed her that it felt so good, to rub her clit, to slide her fingers inside her pussy, and yet not to achieve climax. It was like there was something missing, something that kept her from scratching that itch.

At the end of the second week, just as she was running out, another pack of Fertile Valley Water arrived. There was a flash drive on top of it.

A little white thumbdrive, no maker listed, someone had marked it "LL" in black sharpie.

Lois Lane slid it into her laptop. There was a single video file.

She forgot to breathe for a few minutes, as she saw herself being fucked. The hard, swollen cock splitting up pussy open in high definition. Every vein and crease on Blaze's cock, every little pore on the reporter's pussy seemed to jump out at her with startling clarity. The reporter's hands found her clit before Lois realized what she was doing, and as her moans came through the reporter's speakers, Lois Lane echoed them.

That night she was quivering, fingers pumping inside her sodden slit in time with Blaze's pumping cock, her aching breasts heaving, nipples puffy and hard—and Lois came, when she came, reliving that moment of her insemination, pussy squirting over her fingers, throat dry as she reached for another bottle of water.

Mind clear for the first time in two weeks, Lois felt a surge of energy at work. Now she was no longer losing herself in her work, but actually pushing herself harder to finish everything up before she got home. Knowing that her little "treat" was waiting for her, she began to eat out more, not caring about the extra calories—after all, every night she was getting plenty of exercise. By the time she entered the door Lois would be shaking with eager need, pussy squelching she was so wet these days. She didn't even need lube, just squeeze two fingers into her cunt as she hit "play."

It was even better when she was on her hands and knees, like in the video, but it was hard to reach her cunt like that...

The second case of water went by faster than the first one. Lois Lane's breasts ached more than they had in any period she had ever known, she could feel her pants and skirts cinch tighter about her waist—she told herself she was retaining water, another symptom of her period, and again felt that inexpressible melancholy that she hadn't "taken." Yet it vanished when in the middle of the third week she found two cases of Fertile Valley Water waiting at her door...and something else, an unmarked box maybe three inches square and as long as her forearm.

Lois had to make two trips to get the water inside her door. Her pussy was soaking her panties, the waistband of the pants cutting into her stomach hard enough to lead a red line, yet the box held her interest. Curious she looked it over but there was no note, no sign of who it was from...so she opened it. Black tissue paper fell out and...a scarlet cock and balls, with a suction cup on the base.

The reporter felt her heart thump against her breastbone. She knew that dick. Every crease and vein in it, the little faint circumcision scar. It was heavy in her hand, so much bigger than she remembered, yet so soft and Lois had no doubt that it was cast directly from Blaze's dick.

She bit her lip, hesitant. It had to be Blaze. Who else would send her the water, the film, and now the dick? Her thighs squirmed as she rubbed them against each other. Wondering if this was somehow a trap, a trick, some scheme...but Blaze hadn't made any demands, hadn't done anything.

The suction cup attached easily to the back of the shower wall. Lois draped herself over a shower chair, the laptop with its thumbdrive sitting on the toilet. The reporter felt almost feverish, her stomach nearly nauseous. She'd been eating too much fastfood lately...Metroburgers with extra pickles, mayonnaise on her fries, sweet tea with extra lemon...and she'd been putting off her trips to the gym. Even though she hadn't weighed herself this week, she knew she must have put on a pound or two...

All the more reason to get some exercise, she told herself as she eased her dripping cunt back on the crimson cock.

Hit play.

It was better this time. Even with her stomach lurching, the odd feverish heat that seemed to envelop her body, Lois couldn't keep her eyes off as she moved, gasping at how much deeper the toy could get than her fingers, how much further it spread her pussy. It took her some minutes to get used to it, and she was already behind the Lois on the screen, who was howling as the balls slapped against her cuntlips from behind. Lois Lane began to move faster...

...and things went sideways. She turned her head, vomiting, Metroburger hitting the shower drain like half-eaten catfood. Yet she couldn't stop herself. Bile dripping from her lips, the reporter turned back to the screen, pressing her pussy against the cock, needing desperately to get her fix, to get off, to cum...

The illness came and went throughout the week, like a flu. There were times when Lois couldn't eat, and relied on a sleeve of saltines at her desk. She strove to eat less fast food, **** herself to go to the gym and do at least some light exercise—and, weighing herself, found she had picked up about six pounds in the last three weeks. The nausea and feverish episodes still came, at odd hours of day and night, and Lois found herself drinking even more of the water.

By the end of the fourth week, Lois was down to wearing her sports bra; nothing else fit, and she knew that she needed to give up and go in for a proper fitting. She had never been this swollen this long from any period, but with the unexpected weight gain...well, she hated to buy clothes because she gained weight, but there was nothing else for it. Four weeks and three days to the hour since she had come home from the club, Lois was relieved to see three cases of bottled water...and a new gift. Smaller than last time, about the size of a fancy pen case.

She hauled the water into her apartment, throat already dry, pussy already damp and aching for that crimson cock, but Lois held off, wanting to open her present...

...and a plain black plastic wand came out.

A pregnancy test.

Lois Lane swallowed, tasting bile. It was impossible...she'd had her period. Of course...didn't some women still have a light period, that first time?

I have been sick lately...and gaining weight...sore breasts...horny all the time...

She set the laptop on the shower chair. Hit play as she hovered over the toilet, the black stick between her legs, the crimson cock on the wall, the one-eyed snake almost seeming to stare at her mockingly. Listened to her own moans as she breathed in carefully through her nose and out her mouth, feeling the heat on her skin, not wanting to get sick again tonight.

The piss, when it hit the strip, was nearly clear. Lois Lane was not dehydrated in the least.

The reporter set the test aside, and leaned back over the toilet. On the screen, she could see herself getting pumped. So much cum that it was squirting out around her lips, dripping down over her erect clit. All that time, Lois knew that her eyes had been fixed on the screen in front of her...and Lois remembered how fervently she had wanted, needed to be bred.

The screen glitched. Lois held her breath as digital artifacts cascaded across the screen, the action slowing down to a crawl, one frame at a time. For a moment she caught a glimpse of something she hadn't seen before...words, flashing across the screen. DRINK. MASTURBATE. CUM. The reporter watched in something like horror and fascination. It was like a litany, a mantra, hidden words emerging from the background, oddly familiar even though Lois knew this was the first time she was seeing them like this. She wondered in all the sessions of the last week, how many times she had seen those words flash past without registering them.

Almost without thinking about it, her right hand had found her pussy. Three fingers slipped in easily, sliding in and out slowly as she read...and watched...the glitchy video. Her heart was beating calmly, and she almost forgot about what she was waiting for...until she hard the tap of heels on the bathroom floor. Unable to pull her eyes away as she heard someone pick up the test from the sink and study it.

"Congratulations," Blaze's voice whispered in her ear. "You're pregnant. That makes you happy, doesn't it Lois?"

Something inside the reporter screamed. Hot tears fell from her cheeks. She realized she couldn't stop her right hand, now knuckles deep and still not enough to satisfy her aching pussy.

"Yes," Lois said, half in sob.

Blaze closed the laptop. The spell broke, and Lois leaned forward, her pussy sore...and her nostrils filled with the scent of Angelica's cock.

"I think I've got what you've been craving," the dickgirl said as she lifted Lois to her feet, and guided the naked reporter toward the bed. "And I hear that regular sex is good for expectant mothers."

On the bed, face down, ass in the air, hot skin slapping into her, belly lurching as she fought back nausea, Lois Lane wondered how she had missed the signs.