Epilogue: The Shakes

The first few hours, Lois Lane sat on the toilet while Angelica Blaze ransacked the apartment and emptied every drop of booze down the sink. The pregnant reporter wasn't sure what she would have done without Angie there during the next forty-eight hours. That was when Lois came to terms with the fact that she was an alcoholic.

Because she needed a drink then. Not wanted, not could go for, but was physically unwell, shaking, sweating, and agitated. Blaze stayed with her throughout it all, and when Lois grabbed her purse to go to the door—Angie stood in front of her and would not move, not even when Lois tried to physically move her. Then Lois had tried to lose herself online, and found herself browsing online liquor delivery—and Angie had shut the laptop off, pulled the smartphone out of her hands, and before Lois could protest the dickgirl had her cock out and was shoving it in her mouth.

Lois Lane never thought she would be thankful to suck a cock.

She certainly wasn't thankful, not at first. Blaze was relentless, every couple of hours she'd be stroking herself hard, and then wiggling her dick in the reporter's face. Lois almost bit it more than once...but she also was thankful when the shakes came, and Angie was there to hold her. To wipe her mouth after she threw up. Cook her a meal and make her eat it.

That first day back to work, Blaze walked Lois to the Daily Planet building. They took a different route from the one Lois normally did. Slightly out of shape as she was from not spending enough time at the gym, Lois was a little sweaty by the time she got there...and then she realized why they had gone that specific way.

There were no bars or liquor stores on that route. Nothing to tempt her.

Angie left her when they got to the lobby.

"Anything I need to clean out at your desk?" The dickgirl had asked.

"No," Lois lied blithely. She took the elevator up. Her stomach churned a little, and not for the first or the hundredth time since the weekend, she thought of the baby. Her baby. Fetal **** syndrome.

The door opened and she saw Clark Kent.

"Smallville," she said, and tasted bile in the back of her throat. "I need...I need you to do me a favor."

He blinked those big blue eyes, pushed his black plastic frames up on his nose. "Of course Lois, anything."

"Go to my desk. Open everything. Every drawer, every cubby, the flower pot...I need you to toss every bottle you find there, okay? Everything. Mouthwash, hand sanitizer, all of it."

His brow furrowed. "Okay. Are you okay?"

Lois burped. Part of it hit the back of her mouth.

"I'm pregnant." She said, and then raced toward the bathroom.

When Lois got back to her desk, it was cleaner than when she had left it. Not only had Kent taken away all of her hidden booze bottles, he'd dusted, wiped down her keyboard, and probably watered the plant. Lois Lane sat down.

Sobriety, day three.

By the end of the day, Lois could feel the shakes come on again. She was sweating just sitting there. Angie had packed her a lunch, and Lois had mindlessly chewed through two tuna sandwiches, carrot sticks, an apple, two pickles, two cups of yogurt, a sleeve of saltines, and a celery soda. Lois wasn't sure where the soda had come from, but she drained it to the last drop. It was more than she would normally eat in a day, and the meal sat heavy on her stomach...but it was something.

Angie was waiting for her in the lobby when she finished work. Kent was in the lobby too, talking to her. There was a certain tenseness there. Lois walked over and grabbed Angie's arm.

"Hey babe," she said. "Smallville...you've met Angie?"

"Yes. We were just getting caught up," he gave a cold smile. "She told me she's been helping you with your recent...condition."

Lois grimaced and elbowed Angie. "She's responsible for my condition." Lois rubbed her stomach to emphasize she meant the baby, not the alcoholism.

Clark Kent nodded. "Well, let me know if you need any help."

"I will Clark," Lois said, and meant it. "Thanks."

Lois and Angie walked home the long way, avoiding the bars and liquor stores. Chatted about the day. Angie had been looking for bigger apartments.

"There's one in your building. Three bedrooms. One for us, one for the nursery, and you can turn the third into your home office."

The reporter's brow furrowed. "Those are the penthouse suites. I can't afford that!"

"Sure you can, if I co-sign," Blaze said.

Lois shook her head. This was all so fast. She wasn't even past the stage where miscarriage was common.

"Sleep on it," Angie said as they took the elevator up to Lois Lane's apartment. What she was quickly starting to think of as her old apartment. "But before that...dinner. And, of course, another dose of your medicine."

Just stepping across the threshold brought memories back to Lois. All the drinks she'd had in this apartment. The time she had thrown up on the couch. Pissed herself on the bed because she had been too drunk to make it to the toilet. Masturbated with a bottle of whiskey because Angie was held up in traffic and couldn't make it there in time, so that by the time the dickgirl got there the reporter was half passed out with the bottle stuck in her cooch when Blaze had pulled it out and mounted her.

Lois shivered and shook at the door.

"I...I hate it here," she said out loud as the shakes came back to her. If only her enemies could see the courageous Lois Lane, reduced to a shivering alcoholic afraid of her own apartment.

"It's okay, sweetmeat," Blaze said as she gently led Lois over to the couch for a lie-down. Unbuttoned the reporter's blouse to free her tits, and Lois breathed a little better. Brought the hard cock to the reporter's lips so that she could hump the pregnant woman's face.

The reporter stuck out her tongue. Felt those big, baby-making balls press against her chin...and that, as much as anything, that little familiar gesture, helped calm her down more than anything else.

Somehow, when she had Angie's cock in her mouth, Lois Lane knew it was all going to be okay.