"It'll Feel Better When I'm Paid"

The words came out so swiftly, so naturally—it was if for a moment that Lois Lane became the character she pretended to be. Seated in the dickgirl's lap, for that second Lois was Joanne, not a reporter but a mercenary whore, willing to lease her own womb for cold, hard cash.

The only problem was...the moment never passed.

Behind her, Angelica Blaze chuckled. Her palms rubbed on the whore's thighs. Her cock twitched inside the former reporter's cream-filled pussy.

"I do so appreciate when people are honest with themselves," Angelica said, her voice a throaty whisper, full of triumph and satisfaction. "So often we wear these masks, pretend we're someone else...fake it until we make it. Yet how many of us consider what happens when the mask becomes reality?"

Lois sat there, striving to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Her pussy felt snug, full, and a bit sore from the hard fucking. The terrible certainty of her pregnancy remained, impossible though that was...and yet secretly, she felt a sense of triumph. A baby meant her contract would be fulfilled. She was going to get paid. Money, and lots of it. Hell, with any luck Angelica might be a repeat customer...

Thoughts that would have been alien to her a few moments ago, as a reporter. Now as a surrogate, they seemed utterly natural. Of course she was thinking about the money. That was the point.

"Let's go transfer the money into your account," the dickgirl said. "To seal the deal."

The whore couldn't say no to that...but she was shocked when, instead of climbing off of that cock, Blaze simply grabbed the surrogate's thighs and stood up, keeping the prostitute's pussy plugged with her prick. Without seeiming effort, Blaze waddled toward a door, which opened without any visible means to do so...and Lois saw beyond a small, rather typical office. Chairs, desk, computer...the only thing strange was a framed poster of Rosemary's Baby on the wall.

Blaze sat in her chair, the pregnant whore in her lap. Lois didn't even think twice about thinking of herself in such terms. It was who and what she was now.

"Now then," the dickgirl said as she typed away at the computer one-handed. "I'll need a little information to transfer the money. Is Joanne your true name?"

Another loaded question. The pregnant woman felt a flush of warning throughout her body...instincts screaming danger at her...yet she had to answer...