Epilogue: Wet Nurse

It was the witching hour, and the twins had gone to sleep. Finally.

Exhausted, Lois pored over the book. A part of her simply hadn't been ready for parenthood. Maybe no parents really are. Only three days since the delivery and her pussy was still sore, the babies demanded to be fed ever two hours.

Her tits simply weren't up to the task. Despite the breast pumps and special diet and **** designed to make her lactate like a fucking cow, she simply wasn't producing enough to care for both Luna and Lily Lane.

Lois turned the pages and stared at a double-page woodcut spread of a pair of breasts, crudely made in black-and-white. Her eyes fell to the incantation written around the edge of the illustrations...and for the first time in three days, the new mother smiled.

Black magic got me into this fix, the reporter thought. And now it will get me out of it!

Easier than ever before, Lois Lane found her thoughts turned into the strange corkscrew logic of sorcery. Over the last ten months she had considerable time to study and refine her technique, and she had begun to look for other books to expand her knowledge—but the babies came first.

Crooking her hand in a gesture of summoning, Lois focused her thoughts on the breasts before her. She let her eyes unfocus, mind visualizing the breasts as they should be: huge, fat milkers, thick blue veins just under the surface, the nipples dark and puffy, as those of a mother who had just given birth. Like her own, in fact, only more swollen. Holding the image in her mind, Lois touched that source of power inside herself, and repeated the incantation from the tome:

"Tresed eht retaw llahs klim ruoy"

She felt the power start to drain from her, toward the book...and then felt a peculiar tugging sensation. Lois blinked rapidly, staring down at the tome. The paper of the book was bulging out, taking on depth and shape, darkening to a familiar crimson color as two hills began to press out of the boundaries of the illustration.

Yet at the same time, Lois could feel something pulling at her own tits, and looked down to see her own pregnancy-swollen bosom begin to expand. A strange heat filled her chest, skin suddenly taut, and a deep familiar ache returned to Lois, of a kind that she hadn't felt before the babies were born.

Within moments, a massive pair of scarlet teats lay on the table, overflowing the boundaries of the book, the dark red nipples glistening with golden drops...and Lois Lane's own breasts seemed only a little smaller, hanging heavily on her chest, aching for relief.

"Hmm, bit of magical overspill there," Lois thought, hefting a now heftier boob. "Not that I mind. These should come in handy with the girls."

The new mother reached over and gently wrapped one hand around the book's left titty. It was warm and smooth, just as the pussy was. Lois gave it a little squeeze, pressing from the mound of sagging tit-flesh toward the nipple—and was rewarded with a warm and familiar spray. The reporter grinned, already planning how to hook up the breast pump.

In the bedroom, one of the girls began crying. The other quickly joined in. Lois sighed.

"Okay," she said, staggering up from the table, back already aching from the added weight of her bigger boobs. "Let's do this together."

It was only when Lois turned her back that a dark red ribbon slid out from the spine of the book and carefully inserted itself along the gutter of the page, running right between the two swollen crimson breasts.