Epilogue: Three Weeks Later

Lois Lane hung her head over the toilet. Her stomach lurched inside her, mouth opening, body shuddering as pale bile spilled into the bowl. If she still dared, she would have prayed—but nowadays, she wasn't sure who or what might listen to such a prayer, much less answer it.

In time, her stomach began to rumble. Hunger bit at her, aching and familiar. Lois often found herself hungry these days. Hungry and tired. Snacking more, sleeping more, exercising less. She could feel the pounds slowly pile on the last couple weeks, had felt the tightness in her waist as pants and skirts fit more tightly. Even her bras seemed tighter, her nipples puffy and sensitive.

She had blamed it on her period. Bloating was common. Antacids would get her through the day. Lois Lane would lose herself in her work, her routine. Stories had to be researched, written, turned in. Her editor praised her work ethic. It was only when she was at home, eating the snackfoods she knew she shouldn't, trying to push off sleep and the dreams that would come with them.

The memories.

Lois had taken to not looking at the brand when she took a shower. The soreness in her ass had gone away after a couple days. Now that her anal virginity was taken, she had begun to experiment more. Just a finger or two for right now, and a lot of lube. She'd found herself looking at dildos online, and she'd absently clicked through to a weird site selling silicone canine cocks. The reporter had enough presence of mind to close the browser before she had actually completed the purchase.

But she'd saved the link.

Three weeks to the day, there was a package at her door. Marked "C." Lois had removed the plain brown paper carefully. A box of pregnancy tests.

It was a cruel joke. Psychological ****. It had been a dog cock. Human women couldn't get pregnant that way. Even if they could, pregnancy tests on humans only worked after six weeks. Then the nausea had hit her, and she had rushed for the toilet. Her stomach hadn't been right all week.

Lois swallowed, tasting bile. Human pregnancies weren't detectable for six weeks...but dog pregnancies were evident after three.

She hated herself as she crawled on all fours to the box of pregnancy tests. ripped one open, read the instructions. Minutes later she was squatting over the toilet, holding the little plastic stick into the clear yellow spray. The metal rings held her labia tight together, and simply urinating was a messy business. Lois had learned, though, hot to keep clean...and whatever metal that the rings were made of, it didn't rust.

And couldn't be broken. Not with any of the tools Lois had been able to buy.

Sitting on the toilet, gently toweling off her labia, Lois stared at her stomach. Not quite as flat as it had been three weeks ago, but she was bloated. Hadn't been to the gym. Not far by any means, but the little hints of abs were gone, the navel a little deeper.

Waiting for the test to process, her fingers probed her belly. Hard beneath the skin. Not soft fat. Muscle and...she frowned. Something else? Her fingers pressed deeper, almost painfully so. Maybe. It was too hard to tell.

Ten minutes passed. Lois Lane's ass itched. She'd been playing with herself fairly regularly, now that her pussy was off-limits. It helped to calm her down before bed, and she was late. But her shaking hand didn't reach for the enema kit, the bottle of lube. They grasped the pregnancy test, not wanting to see what it said.

Two blue lines stared at her. The bottom seemed to fall out of the reporter's world.

It was impossible.

Magical.

She was pregnant with puppies.