39 Weeks

Hips audibly cracked and spread. Her center of gravity shifted as the belly dropped. Lois couldn't see her pussy now, just the solid dome of her abdomen, spilling out onto her lap, tight and taut.

She looked down at herself, unable to deny it any longer.

"I look full-term," she said. "Ready to drop."

Hands, thin and slightly emaciated, shook as she touched the taut skin of her swollen stomach. Her lower back and shoulders ached, her body suddenly front-heavy, and she felt the dire urge to pee from the baby sitting on her bladder.

She didn't feel any heavier...it was just as though the weight had been redistributed. All the excess fat and mass redirected for her body's single most important building project. Lois swallowed dryly and stared back up at the screen.

Her other self stared back at her. Stomach big and round, one hand resting comfortably on the gravid swell. Other-Lois looked serene, accepting..maybe even happy. But Lois Lane herself—the real Lois Lane—was not feeling serene at all.

"I didn't want this," Lois told herself, leaning forward to clutch out the computer mouse. "I don't want this."

Her cursor slid to the two sliders—Weeks and number of Babies—and hesitated. She wasn't sure what would happen if she changed these. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything could go back the way it was.

"Just...just going to try it out..." The reporter's voice shook, as though trying to reassure herself. "One...one week. Just a week. Just to see if it works."

She tried to click the Babies slider back, but it wouldn't budge. She repeated the experiment with "Weeks," and got the same result.

"Can't regress," she muttered. In desperation, Lois tried to click the slider forward...and it moved to 40 weeks.

Lois froze, expecting...something, anything. But there was no change. Not to her, anyway. But the "Accept" button was glowing pink...

"Forty weeks. Full term. Due date," The reporter told herself. "I could deliver at any moment...but at least I wouldn't be pregnant. Do I chance it?"

She tried to move her cursor down to the pulsing pink "Accept" button...but it didn't happen. Instead, the cursor slid over to the "Babies" slider, hovering over the "+" sign. Lois stared down at her hand, as though it was moving of its own accord. _What am I doing? _Her arm shook with the **** of trying to move her hand, to lift it away from the mouse, to keep her finger from sliding over to the key... No! No no no no no!