End: Lois Gives Birth to Cock

Lois Lane screamed. The sound echoed off the cement walls and came back to her, but no one came to her aid. All alone within the circle, the Daily Planet's best reporter might as well have been in her own little world—and perhaps she was. Perhaps there was nothing beyond that thin curtain, no underground, no club above. Perhaps she floated in a void, between dimensions, the gateway for an abomination to pass between her thighs...

Her contraction ended, and the pain and pleasure ceased. The reporter was plastered with sweat, her entire body aching, pussy almost dead and numb. She had lost track of how long she had been there, or how often the contractions were coming; Lois had long since kicked her phone into the corner during one of the painful, whole body contortions.

All she knew was that the contractions were coming regularly now, mere seconds apart, and lasting longer—the tremendous pressure moving through her abdomen was now centered on her crotch, the hard mass distending the flesh so that her pussy bulged obscenely between her quaking thighs. Lois panted and knew if she reached down she could feel the hard mass through the distended flesh, fingers tracing the outlines of the hard mass, but her cunt itself had gone dead.

Panting, Lois tried again. Her fingers crept over her crotch, the skin cold beneath her fingertips. The nub of the clit felt rubbery between thumb and forefinger, and try as she might to squeeze it, Lois couldn't feel a thing—pain or pleasure. It was the same with the labia, the flaps of skin simply hanging there. Worry wracked Lois' mind even as exhaustion wracked her frame.

Is the thing inside of me so big that it's cutting off the blood supply? If that's the case, the tissue could be damaged... Lois thought, pulling her labia wide. Her fingers could just touch something hard and round where it was crowning.

The contraction began as a tightness in the small of Lois back. The pressure, never relenting, inside of her crotch increased as the muscles all twisted at once, and the reporter did her best to squeeze and push, as though trying to pass a bowling ball. Lamaze breathing kicked in, pain ran through her hips, and the mass shifted just a little bit more, the cunt lips being pried just a little farther apart, stretched a little farther from her body.

The worst part of it was the pleasure. Lois was not a masochist, but every movement of that mass inside of her was the most ecstatic sensation she had ever felt in her life. It was as though in dying every nerve in her broken cunt was flaring one final time, until the reporter lay at the crux of orgasm with each push, never quite reaching her climax, never really coming down from the high...and then the next contraction would start, and her chest would tighten and toes curl, and even through the pain Lois would scream in sexual excitement and frustration. It was unsustainable. Something had to give.

With a rip of dead flesh, something did.

Relief flooded through Lois as a sudden pressure gave way...the mass all of a sudden, partially expelled from her body, accompanied by the tearing of skin. The reporter still quaked, echoes of the contraction running through her frame, and by instinct she continued to push, feeling things move, squeezing the last bits out of her.

She lay there panting, the sudden terrible pressure now gone, though she felt other things, equally disturbing. The reporter could feel part of herself lying on the floor, between her legs, beyond her crotch. Lois swallowed, not wanting to look, but knowing she had to.

I must have prolapsed, the dark thought ran through her head. Vaginal canal broke loose, pushed out of the body...maybe the uterus too. I've heard that can happen during a difficult birth. Requires surgery to fix...

Swallowing hard, the reporter sat up with difficulty to survey the damage.

There was no stone, and no baby. A pale pink length did extend from between Lois' legs, surrounded by dried, torn skin, awash with blood and viscera. The reporter blinked, not sure how to process what she was seeing...and then she reached out, and with trembling fingers picked up a long piece of the torn skin, which was still clinging to her body. She pulled it away from her crotch with no more pain than she would peel dead skin from a bad sunburn.

Holding it up, Lois recognized her clitoris, and a bit of her labia, hanging in her hand.

Staring back down at where she had plucked the dead flesh from, Lois saw that her skin there was smooth and unblemished, shiny and raw...and it extended seamlessly down into the thing between her legs, the thing she had given birth to...and for the first time, Lois really saw it for what it was.

"I've got a cock." She whispered out loud, then spied the hairless, veiny spheres beneath it. "I've got balls."

Even flaccid, the dick seemed unnaturally thick and long to the reporter, bigger than anything in her experience except... Lois recalled the statue, up above. The statue she had fucked. Which had broken off a piece of itself inside of her.

"Stone to flesh," she whispered, with sudden understanding...a piece of the demon, reborn within her. Absently, Lois wondered if it worked...and felt an unfamiliar tightness and pressure in her sore crotch, and watched with terror and wonder as her newborn dick began to stiffen in its first erection, heart pounding in her chest, aroused at the sight of herself getting aroused.

The morning alarm sounded on her phone, off in the corner. Lois stared at her throbbing erection, and new that her wild night was over...but a wild new day had just begun.