Epilogue: Conflicted

After a month in the cabin together, Mercy Graves thought she knew what to expect. They'd talked to each other, fucked each other, eaten meals together, watched movies, even seen each other use the bathroom and brush their teeth. How much different could it be, for Lois Lane to be her girlfriend?

Lois didn't text Mercy during the day, because she was working, but when the bodyguard went to the gym at night Lois was there to work out with her, help spot her during weight lifting. They'd catch a shower together, in the locker room, maybe steal a kiss or cop a feel if no-one was looking, then off to dinner...and more and more often they'd end up together all night, Mercy astride Lois Lane's hips, the bodyguard rising and falling on that stiff prick, the taste of her girlfriend's first load still in her mouth. Then early in the morning, Mercy would have to leave early to go back to her own apartment to get ready for work.

Gradually, things started to migrate over. A toothbrush was a necessity, once the morning sickness started. Spare panties and extra clothes, after she had to borrow one too many clean bras and panties off of Lois; she could leave her dirty things with Lois who would wash them. On the weekends Lois would take her shopping. The pregnancy wasn't notable yet, but there was a smile on the reporter's face as she watched her girlfriend try on a bikini...lingerie...a sundress...

Until one morning, four weeks later, Mercy Graves woke up on her side in Lois Lane's arms...and as she stared into the darkness she realized she hadn't been "home" to her own apartment in three days. The dickgirl's cock pressed into the crack of the pregnant woman's ass...Mercy was wearing nothing but one of Lois' shirts as a nightgown, and hadn't bothered with panties...and the reporter's hand slid down to rest against the bodyguard's lower abdomen.

They could hear each other breathe in the darkness, both awake, neither saying a word...and then those lips pressed against Mercy's shoulder, and the bodyguard snuggled her booty against that dick and raised one leg so Lois could blindly wiggle it in.

"You know," Lois said. "If you want...we could save some money if we lived together. You wouldn't have to go back and forth...and you've practically been living here for a few days anyway..."

Mercy sighed softly as she sank her pussy onto the hard shaft. For all the years she'd gone without a cock, having one to plug her every single night when she needed it never got old. A part of her wondered what the hell married people were complaining about. Lois Lane's fingers slipped down to rub Mercy's clit, just the way she liked.

"I miss you when you're not around," Lois confided.

Just for a moment, Mercy felt the sudden inexplicable urge to tell Lois everything—about Lex Luthor, the experiment, the money—and Lois felt her tense and the reporter turned her head to kiss the corner of her girlfriend's mouth.

"You don't have to decide right away," she said. "Just think about it, okay?"

"You should do it," Lex Luthor said, the next day.

Mercy Graves blinked. "Sir?" She was distracted by the wetness in her panties; she hadn't had a chance to wash Lois' load out of her pussy before coming to work.

"Increased intimacy, increased intelligence-gathering opportunities. You'll need to be careful to avoid giving anything away—if necessary we can brief you on approved work-related topics to discuss with her—but this is a chance we shouldn't pass up," the bald industrialist fixed Mercy Graves with his cold, almost reptilian stare. "Move in with her."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor," Mercy said. She stood at attention, even though she knew she didn't have to. His eyes fell back to her report.

"Your reports on sexual activities are a bit...vague," he said. "I expect more detail in these accounts. Frequency, duration, descriptions. We can only do so much to monitor the subject's sexual health from afar. I'm depending on you to give us accurate, up-to-date data on her sexual wellbeing and any changes in her anatomy or psychology."

Mercy nodded. "She's...very healthy sir. I'm still a bit sore from last night."

The bodyguard blushed as she realized what she had just said. Lex fixed her with his eyes again. The stare was utterly unreadable. He was too brilliant for Mercy to even begin to understand what went on behind those eyes.

"Good. See if you can encourage that behavior."

Mercy blinked again. "Sir?"

He leaned back and tapped on the desk.

"We'll give you a capsaicin spray—something to cause a light rash. Use that as an excuse to stop wearing bras and panties. Around the house or at work. Flaunt your body in front of her. Measure her reaction. That's an order."

Mercy swallowed. There was a knot in her stomach, a queasiness that she didn't think had anything to do with morning sickness. "Y-yes Mr. Luthor. Of course. Whatever you say."

"Excellent. You're a valuable employee, Mercy," he said. Then he offered her one of his rare, thin-lipped smiles and the pregnant woman tasted bile in the back of her throat. "A very valuable asset indeed."