Epilogue: Bitchbreeder II: Lois Lane Breeds Again

"Lois Lane," the redhead said, "Meet Richard James Gordon."

The reporter picked up the baby with something like awe. He had a pale fuzz of red hair...and big violet eyes, just like hers. She cradled him carefully in her arms, supporting his little head. Little Dickie looked at her and smiled...and Lois Lane felt her heart melt.

She didn't even care when he threw up on her.

"Sorry," Barbara Gordon, the Batgirl, said as she leaned forward to wipe the spit-up off of the reporter's blouse. Motherhood had done wonders for the young woman's figure. Lois eyes the wider hips and fuller bust hungrily, shown off as they were in skin-tight lycra pants and a sweater that seemed almost painted on. The red hair was longer too...dangling past her shoulders now...and Lois wondered what other changes had taken place in that perfect body in the months since they had been intimate.

"So...how have you been?" Lois asked.

"Fine. Getting back into crime-fitting shape hasn't been too difficult—although I had to let out the old costume a little, after Dickie came along. It's not the weight, really, just that it tends to settle in...certain places. As you've noticed."

Lois gave a weak grin. She was busted.

Barbara smiled...but there was a brittle quality to it. "How many women have you impregnated, Lois?"

The reporter's grin faded. "I don't...I can't keep track. When I was under Luthor's programming, I wasn't really conscious of it, and after..." she took a breath. "It's estimated to be over a hundred, counting the Amazons."

Just saying the number out loud seemed surreal. Over a hundred pregnancies. If they all came to term...so many babies. Even if Lois wasn't financially responsible for them, she felt so bad about not being able to be there for them...to be a parent...

"Have you ever impregnated the same woman twice?" Barbara interrupted the reporter's thoughts.

"No," Lois said. She cocked her head. "I mean, there hasn't been time, it's been less than a year since...since you and I..."

Dickie began to cry. His mother stood up and took him out of the reporter's unresisting arms.

"Just a minute. It's time for his nap."

Lois Lane sat there as Barbara Gordon took her son—their son—into the next room. Her eyes followed the swaying hips automatically; Batgirl had filled out there too—but her thoughts were on what Barbara had said. Somehow, Lois had thought after her encounter with Lex Luthor that she'd feel better about the whole breeding business...but she didn't. It was weird, being used as a studhorse for superheroes. Once, she had been a Pulitzer-prize winning reporter, now she was only valued for the length and thickness of her cock, the quality of her sperm. There was something almost dehumanizing about the whole business.

It took several minutes of such thoughts for Lois to realize Barbara was taking much longer to put Dickie down for a nap than it should have...and then a dark, cowled figure stepped forth.

Lois held her breath. It was just the cape and cowl, the yellow boots and gloves. Pale, creamy skin showed where should have been grey fabric; bare breasts with dark puffy nipples where the bat-sigil should be. The utility belt was cinched around wide hips, but there was a touch of post-pregnancy extra skin on the flat and muscled stomach, white radiating stretchmarks, thighs that were thicker than before.

"I thought you should have a chance," Barbara said, spreading her arms and the cape, "to admire your handiwork."

The reporter's cock tented her skirt. Batgirl smiled.

"Are...are you...?" Lois gulped, not sure what answer she wanted.

"Fertile. Ovulating. I've been dealing with a little post-partum depression. Decided I don't want Dickie to grow up to be an only child."

With a swift kick that flashed a bit of pink pussy, the reporter's skirt was knocked away from her erection. The panties were specially manufactured, from a small shop in Japan that specialized in male porn stars. A sleeve of white lace was gathered around the bottom half of her stiff dick, the balls cradled and supported by a combination of jockstrap and bra.

Lois leaned back on the couch as Batgirl settled her knees on either side to straddle her. The Caped Crusader's gloved hands came down on Lois's shoulders.

"You've been with so many women since then...have you ever thought about that night, with us?" Barbara asked as her cunt lips just brushed the swollen cockhead.

"I was...I was still under Luthor's control," Lois said. "But at nights I...dream...about this tight, perfect cunt with red hair..."

"Well, it might not be as tight as you remember," Barbara bent forward. "But I dreamed about you too."

The pussy sank down...and down. Lois was pinned beneath Batgirl's weight, by the hot lips that pressed into her own. Barbara Gordon didn't stop until her cunt had bottomed out, and she broke the kiss to give a little sigh of perfect contentment.

"Have you ever thought...about being with someone?" Barbara said. "I don't necessarily mean marriage, but...a steady girlfriend? A partner?"

Lois swallowed as the Batgirl squeezed her inner muscles. It felt like invisible hands were **** her dick, and it was wetter than average. No need for lube at all. The reporter wondered how long it had been since Barbara had last gotten laid. A beautiful woman like this...but pregnant, or as a single mother...it could be hard. Damn hard.

"You...you know what my job is now," Lois said, guiltily. "It's not...it's not that I wouldn't. I want to be a part of little Dickie's life, I do. And I love...really fucking love this pussy."

The reporter's hands came around to squeeze Barbara's ass. It was meatier than she remembered, still fit, but ripe. Lois began to buck her hips and Barbara began to grind, thrusting her tits into the dickgirl's face.

"I don't care how many women you fuck," Barbara said quietly. "I don't care how many bitches you breed. As long as you come back to us. As long as you keep me...nice...and...fucking...full...of your babies."

They moved together, bodies comfortable, but there was a **** need inside of Barbara, and the pressure building inside of Lois Lane's balls was like something she hadn't experienced in a long, long time. The dickgirl reporter was panting, trying to make it last, to hold out, but she could already feel that Barbara was **** for it, needed it...

...and, Lois Lane thought, as she placed her chin against Batgirl's sternum and looked up into her eyes, Maybe I need this too.

"Okay, Batmom," Lois said, with a smile.

Some volcanic eruptions are like Mt. Vesuvius, a violent storm of flying matter that blows the top off of a mountain, a pure fury of elements that annihilates everything in its path. Others are slower, though no less deadly. The pressure pushed up the hot, thick magma to the surface, and it pours out in a constant, never-ending stream, building new land.

Lois came like the latter.

She held the Caped Crusader tight against her balls as thick jizz oozed up out of the crack in her swollen tip. Hugged her and kissed her breasts, smelling baby powder and milk and knowing that this is what she wanted...what she had needed...the part of herself that was missing. Lois wanted to fall asleep balls deep inside this red-furred cunt, she wanted to change diapers and teach Dickie how to read and walk, wanted to be there as the test went positive and to see Barbara's belly swell up with another baby, and she wanted...she wanted...

The reporter broke down in sobs. Barbara hugged her back, her cowled head lighting on top of the reporter's own.

"It's okay Lois...it's okay. You've been through a lot this last year. All that stress, those pent-up emotions, and no-one who could understand or accept what you've been going through. Just let it out now. Let it all out," Batmom smiled. "Deep inside me where it belongs."