Epilogue: The Brother-In-Law From Hell

It got to be a routine. Lois would make Angie her lunch, and give her a kiss on her way out the door to work.

...and sometimes more than a kiss, Lois thought, still able to taste her spouse's cum. A peck on the pecker put Angie in a good mood, and helped make sure that the demonic dickgirl was hard for her as soon as she came home.

At twenty-four weeks pregnant with quadruplets, Perry White as the editor of the Daily Planet had basically begged Lois to work from home, as a transition into her maternity leave. Big as she was getting, the reporter relented. Which meant that for the better part of every day, Angie Blaze-Lane was out of the apartment, and Lois was stuck at home.

Just now, Lois was wearing nothing but a long night-gown. Once, it had been almost prudish, ankle-length shiny pink polyester. Now with her stomach sticking out so far that it looked like she'd swallowed a basketball, Lois could feel the fringe of the front brush against her knees...and her expanded bosom, braless, filled out the top so well that Lois had to be careful while eating so as not to continually drop crumbs down her cleavage.

There was a knock at the door.

Lois paused. She wasn't expecting any packages.

The knock came again.

The pregnant reporter drifted toward the door. Caution was not her natural state of mind, but she had increasingly been aware that as her pregnancy advanced, her ability to defend herself was more and more limited...and every day when Blaze left, Lois set the lock, the deadbolt, and the chain, not removing them until it was almost time for her spouse to return. It always felt like a bit of foolish, paranoid precaution...but it made her feel a little safe.

She peeked through the peep-hole. There was a man standing in the hallway. Dark of hair and dark of eye, tall and dressed in a grey pinstripe suit that screamed both money and taste. Clean-shaven, but the mouth was wide and somehow cruel. A broad forehead, strong cheeks. The family resemblance to Angie was immediately obvious to Lois Lane's eye...something about the shape of the skull.

More than that, he stared at her as though he could see Lois, straight through the door.

"Hello," he said, and he had the same accent that Angie had, though thicker. "I'm Colin Thornton. I'm looking for my sister Angelica Blaze."

"She's not here," Lois said, raising her voice loud enough to be heard through the door.

"Ah, good. That makes this easier."

Wood splintered as his hand came through the door. Lois fell back, out of reach, as the big, hairy hand groped for a moment at the chain and lock. Hidden glyphs and sigils which Lois hadn't seen before flared red briefly all along the doorframe...and then burst into sparks and faded. With a further crash, Colin Thornton ripped the entire lock out of the door, taking part of the frame with it. The big man pushed his way through.

In person, Thornton had...presence. He was as tall as Angie, but broad as a linebacker along the shoulders, biceps and thighs bulging against the cut of his suit. His mouth was twisted into a smug, predatory grin...a grim parody of kind of smile that Blaze had, when she was being playful.

Lois Lane grabbed a knife from the butcher's block with her right hand. Her smartphone rang on the counter...but the big man snapped his fingers and it exploded in a shower of black sparks.

"You must be Lois. We haven't been properly introduced. I'm your brother-in-law. You may call me Lord Satanus."

The reporter dropped into a crouch, letting belly center into a lower center of gravity. She held the knife low and in toward her body. Not like those idiotic women in horror movies, that held it out at arm's length; if Thornton got close enough to make a move at her, she wanted to be in a position to stab him with all of her weight.

"Angie hasn't really talked about her family," Lois said. "I'm beginning to see why she didn't invite you to the wedding."

He stepped closer, though out of range of a sudden thrust. There was no fear in him at all. This was a game to him, one that he was prolonging for his own pleasure. Lois could see that automatically.

"Yes, I must admit I was hurt. It used to be that we were equal partners in all things...share and share alike."

The image of him rippled, like the air over a hot highway in the desert. Lois smelled tar and sulfur, ozone and burning tires...and then she saw him as he really was. No more nice suit. Dark horns, bigger than Blaze's, poked out from a metal helmet that shadowed his eyes and face, though it left that damnable cruel smile. A kind of white robe covered a physique worthy of a bodybuilder, like Arnold Schwarzenegger during his prime...incredible definition on the pecs and abs, no trace of fat at all...but the skin was the familiar red of fresh blood on parchment, just like Angie's. If a child had tried to draw the devil, it might look something like Satanus.

He stepped forward, grabbing at her. Lois struck swiftly, bringing the knife up under his chin, striking at his unprotected throat. All of her weight was behind the point of the blade...which snapped off, the edge skittering across the scarlet skin. The shock of the impact numbed Lois Lane's arm to the elbow, and the knife dropped out of her hand to clatter on the kitchen floor. There wasn't even a mark on him...but the grin widened.

Swift as lightning, he was on her. His hand grabbed her neck and lifted her up. Lois screamed...all of her pregnant weight tugging at her vertebrae. Ineffectually, she kicked at him and tried to pry the fingers free. Nonchalantly, the demon carried her over to the kitchen table, and he slammed her down on top of it, hard enough to knock the wind out of her.

Holding Lois down with one hand, with the other he ripped the nightgown off of Lois's body. His mouth twisted in distaste as he looked at her nude form, before dwelling on the massive stomach.

"You know, I would understand if she was just using you as a broodmare," he said. "But she has abandoned her throne in Hell...all of our plots and machinations...she has abandoned me. I think she's rather taken a liking to you. A favored plaything."

His hand cupped the reporter's crotch. Two fingers **** themselves into the dry cunny, without preamble or permission. Lois tried to scream, but his other hand shifted to her throat, and the reporter's voice petered out.

"Blaze did sometimes dislike it when I played with her toys. I had a tendency to break them."

Pain lanced through the reporter's crotch as he **** his fingers in deeper.

"Perhaps when she sees your corpse on this table, gutted from crotch to sternum by my cock, a puddle of cum in your broken heart, and my nieces gone, my dear sister will come to her senses."

Lois Lane couldn't scream. Couldn't even say a word. But she stared into his white-on-white eyes...and the glob of spittle hit one as accurately as ever an Army sniper had picked off a target.

"Sister-in-law...where I come from, that barely counts as foreplay."

The reporter grinned back at him...and he hesitated. Then he felt the hands on his horns.

"Bla—"

There was a sharp crack as the neck snapped. Lois saw the edges of the bone distorting the skin. The big body went limp, the fingers falling out of the reporter's quim.

Blaze, in her demon form, stood over the body, still holding her brother's head in her hands. Her crimson body was shaking. Then she looked up at Lois, and dropped him, rushing to her naked wife. Over Blaze's shoulder, Lois saw Superman step through the ruined doorway. Other, stranger people were following...the reporter made out what looked like a great blue devil holding a golden trident, and a man in a blue robe wearing a golden helmet that completely concealed his face, and there were more...

Angie set her wife down on the bed, and covered her pregnant wife with the sheet.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I got here as soon as...Lois I'm so sorry..."

The reporter reached forward and hugged her wife. Stupid, warm tears flowed over her cheeks. Now that everything was over and done with, the panic and fear were turning the reporter into mush. Her stomach churned and she had to pee. More than anything else though, she needed Angie here, with her, holding her.

"He would have come back," Angie said. "No matter what prison they put him in, he would have come back. That's how we were. I didn't think...I should have..."

"It's okay," Lois said. "You're here now. It's okay."

"No, it isn't," Blaze said. "I should have been here for you, I should have..."

Lois sealed her lips with a kiss. Warm lips on warm lips. The pregnant reporter let her tongue slide over Angie's fangs, so sharp that if she wasn't careful she'd cut herself. Instinctively, Lois squeezed her pussy...and gave a yelp.

Angie broke the kiss, white-on-white eyes wide with concern.

"I think," Lois said, wincing at her sore pussy, "we might have to switch to anal sex for a while."

Superman coughed from the entrance to the bedroom.

"We'll deal with what's left of Satanus. However, given the possibility of someone else from Blaze's past intruding...Dr. Fate thinks we should discuss further security measures."

"What do you propose?" Angie said.

A muscle worked in Superman's jaw. "The Justice League runs a program similar to the Witness Protection Program. For reformed supervillains and henchmen. We can give you new lives, new identities, a safe place to live...but it would mean leaving Metropolis."