Epilogue: Waddle Into Work

The alarm went off, Monday morning. Lois Lane groaned aloud, shifting uncomfortably. The last cobwebs of dream were fading from her mind. She had been stuck in a cryotube aboard the Nostromo. Awake but unable to move as the facehugger slithered and skittered over the clear plexiglass. She could actually see the finger-legs, the strange, vagina-like organ in the palm, the bony and spine-like tail...and then it had skittered out of sight. Except she could still hear it. Frozen, she could only stare fixedly ahead...and then it was inside. Crawling over her body. Clamping onto her face. The wiggling organ forcing its way past her teeth, snaking down her throat...and Lois felt it pump something into her, and she couldn't even scream...

Even awake, Lois could feel the weight. Except it wasn't on her chest.

She raised her head and stared at her stomach.

Her breasts hadn't changed much, though they were a bit swollen and sore, no worse than a bad period. The distended abdomen, however, rose above her gut as a solid down, sticking out at least as far as two fists stacked on top of each other back when her tummy had been a flat plain. It had been a long weekend, and her damned demon dickgirlfriend had cruelly tricked her again...and again...

Lois groaned as she hit the alarm. She couldn't afford to miss work today.

Her navy blue pants fit, so long as she didn't try to bring them up to her waist, but let them ride low on her hips. She let her biggest, pinkest blouse hang loose rather than try to tuck it in, and that managed to cover her lower belly, even though it emphasized the curve of her upper stomach. The breasts managed to squeeze into her biggest bra, and the navy blue jacket still fit as long as she didn't try to close it over her big stomach. It fell to the tops of her thighs and had big pockets, which helped hide her profile at least.

"You look great," Angie said. The demon had found a fascination for the reporter's socks and panties, and wore both. The fact that the panties couldn't accommodate her cock, and that the testicles were constantly slipping out in a very distracting way, bothered Blaze not at all.

"I look six months pregnant," Lois said. She didn't eat anything. The last thing she needed was a growth spurt now that she was dressed.

"I'd say closer to seven," Blaze twitched her nose. "Sure you don't want to stay home today? I could finish you off...you'd be in labor by morning."

"No, babe," Lois said, her stomach growling. She eased over to Angie and gave her a kiss. "I'll see you tonight, okay? Be good!"

Getting to work proved to be easier said than done.

In the apartment, Lois Lane hadn't had to walk more than ten feet at a time. She'd felt the weight of her expanding abdomen, the shift in her center of gravity as her hips widened, the way she had to lean back to compensate, but none of that prepared her for walking any distance. Just getting out of the apartment building left her slightly sweaty, her thighs and calves talking to her. It was like walking with a rucksack strapped to her front.

Which Lois had done before. Except the way it hung on her made it difficult to really stride. Lois found herself taking smaller steps, feet going to the left and right...and her ears burned as she felt people on the street look at her, look at her stomach, and then smile and she realized she was waddling.

By the time Lois got to the Daily Planet offices, she was ready to sit down. Her ankles were killing her, the bra was digging into her shoulders and underboobs, and she had to pee. Junior—Lois didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl—was sitting heavily on her bladder. She'd stopped along the way for coffee and a croissant, and ended up buying, on impulse, half a dozen of the pastries and consuming all of them, one after another, on the way to work. Now her stomach rumbled in protest, and Lois felt sleepy and stuffed to the gills.

"Lane!" Perry White said as he caught a look at her, from the front, in the hallway. "My office, now!"

The reporter sighed. She'd barely stepped foot in the office and the jig was up. Fortunately, Perry had a chair across from his desk. The reporter slumped into it heavily as her editor shut the door.

"Okay, Lane," he said, voice gruff and barking. "You weren't pregnant last week, and now you look halfway ready to give birth on my carpet. What happened? Did Superman finally put a bun in your oven? Lex Luthor invent a preggo-ray? **** by aliens?"

There was an obscenely hopeful lilt to his voice. The reporter had sunk low in the chair, which emphasized her belly.

"It's not Superman, or Luthor. I met this...metahuman. We hit it off. We had sex. Her biology...made the pregnancy progress faster. What's our maternity leave policy?"

"Maternity leave? For my star reporter?" He looked shocked and taken aback. "When our paper is dying every day, losing subscribers to the internet, and you want to cut the heart out of me and leave me fishing for headlines?"

Lois narrowed her eyes. Something was up.

"What do you have in mind, chief?"

"Pregnancy! It's a hot button topic. Superheroines are always getting pregnant! Aliens, demons, super science, ancient magic! Thieves steal fertility idols, lost civilizations want to repopulate...human interest, Lane!" He knocked on the table. "That's what's going to save the Daily Planet...and Great Caesar's Ghost you have it, right now! A rapid pregnancy! I want you to write a series! All about the joys and pitfalls of super pregnancies!"

The reporter looked doubtful. "Can I at least work from home?"

"Of course!" He said. "Your first article is due Friday, so I can get it in the Sunday edition. I'll send Jimmy Olsen to get some snapshots of you...make sure you show the belly! That's what the readers want! First hand experience! I'll second Kent to you to do any legwork you need."

"Clark," Lois shook her head. She wondered how the hell she was going to tell him...and then she didn't have to.

Perry strode around the desk past her, stuck his head out of his office door and yelled "KENT!"

The reporter tried to draw herself up a little, not relishing what was about to happen.

He loomed over her, sitting; even slouched as her always did, which seemed to hide his height and the width of his shoulders. Yet she saw his big blue eyes widen behind the black plastic frames of his glasses.

"Hey Smallville," she said, weakly. "Sorry for not getting up, but I need to give my feet a rest."

Perry White slid back behind his desk. "Isn't it tremendous Kent? Marvelous! Rapid pregnancy! She's going to do a whole series on it!"

"I think," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You'd better catch me up."

So Lois went through it again...feeling even guiltier as she saw Kent's eyes on her, his puppy love betrayed. Oh, she'd been aware he'd been carrying a torch, but the utter reality of Lois at least six months gone in the span of a few days no doubt dampened any possible ardor he might have had.

"Lois," he said. "Before you go any further...maybe you should get checked out by a doctor. Make sure the pregnancy is safe. Or contact the JLA, make sure this metahuman isn't messing with your mind...some of them have very strange powers. I'm sure Superman wouldn't mind putting in a word for you."

Lois sighed. Typical deflection, Clark not wanting to face the fact that Lois was in love with someone else. Pregnant with someone else.

It was a long day by the time Lois Lane waddled home.

Her ankles were killing her. Boobs ached. She had to stop three times just to pee on the way back to the apartment. When she opened the door, the reporter almost fell into the naked dickgirl's arms.

"I want a footrub," the reporter said. "Dinner. And someone to eat my pussy."

Blaze smiled...not her Mona Lisa smile, but something more natural, that showed her teeth. Lois could feel the dickgirl's stiff cock dig into her stomach.

"Of course, sweetmeat. How did work go?"

She carried the reporter to the couch. Dinner came out on a tray table: red steak, crisp potatoes, some kind of juice. Lois looked at it hungrily.

"There's no cum in this, right?" The pregnant woman asked as Blaze sat at the other end of the couch to rub her feet.

"None."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Blaze assured her.

"Good," Lois said. "Because I need you to save it all up. Jimmy's coming for a photoshoot tomorrow. They want a before and after. Want to see my belly swell. So I'm going to need you to save up all your cum tonight, okay?"

"Kinky," Blaze grinned, her eyes agleam. "I like it!"

The reporter dug into dinner. Her girlfriend rubbed the tired feet. Lois felt herself going over the events of the day.

What's really kinky, she thought. Is that I think I like it too.