Lois Lane's Womb Has Gained Sentience

Consciousness came back to the reporter slowly. A soft buzzing turned out to be the gentle snores of the faux-Vixen, who had curled up into herself, one leg kicking gently in some dream. Moving as quietly as she could so as not to wake her, Lois Lane took stock of her situation.

To her immense and immediate relief, Lois could see no obvious outward changes. All of her limbs were in their proper place, and her pussy, though slightly more protuberant than normal, was tight and not gaping open and drooling cum. Rolling onto all fours, the reporter quickly set about gathering her clothes. She needed to get dressed and get out of here, find those missing women. Everything was going well until she tried to put on her pants...

NO.

The piercing female voice rang in the reporter's head like an old woman, vaguely familiar, was screeching disapprovingly in her ear. Lois froze, then quickly glanced about. There was no one around, no source for the voice. Slowly, the reporter tried to step into her pants again.

STOP!

Again, the ringing, awful screech, and this time Lois knew it had nothing to do with her ears. She frowned to herself. Some telepath then, or invading alien parasite in her brain or...

I AM WOMB.

The reporter bent over, clutching her middle as a sudden cramp took her to the ground. She could feel things shifting beneath the skin, and her eyes widened in understanding. The first exposure to the mutagenic cum had given her a super-pussy...had the second exposure awakened it?

"I need to put on pants!" she whispered, low enough she hoped the faux-Vixen wouldn't hear. "I have to get out of here."

NO PANTS. NEED COCK. SEMEN. NEED TO GET PREGNANT. PANTS GET IN WAY.

The voice was pounding in her head now, and Lois inwardly groaned as she realized why it sounded familiar. Her biological clock had a voice and it sounded like her mother. The reporter knew her therapist would have a field day with that, if she had a therapist.

"I can't fuck somebody right now," Lois hissed. "There are four women missing! I have to find them!"

NO PANTS.

It was like dealing with some innermost part of her ego, the reporter realized. Single-minded, driven to the point of obsession. She wasn't sure how to deal with this situation. The easiest solution was just to humor her womb for right now, and walk out of here without pants, embarrassing as that would be. On the other hand, it was intelligent...superpowered...and a part of herself. Maybe she could bargain with it.