Defilers Club  

It’s not often you see Supergirl in a strip club. And this one was particularly sleazy with older dancers on the tenuous border between ‘interesting knockers’ and ‘just keep your head down and drink.’ But when she and I entered the “The Pole Palace” that Wednesday night, lots of heads came up, believe me.

Not one eye in the place noticed my entrance, I assure you; not with a figure like hers. It was all there on display: every sensuous curve clung to, every poking body part accented by that new uniform, a long-sleeved tight blue PVC top with yellow accents that left her belly revealed. She had her signature short skirt on too, of course, except this one was bright red PVC-type material and it barely covered that swaying bubble ass I was following. I also appreciated the fact that this new cape of hers only came down to mid-back giving me an unrestricted view of her booty. Hey, I’m a cop sure but I got eyes and a libido.

Her smooth calf-high red boots clopped loudly across the wooden floor in the sudden silence of our entrance. And of course there was that emblem of hers stretched across those bouncing boobs as she strode across the floor like she owned the place. That red S drew more than its share of attention considering the show the rest of her body was putting on. Despite the dim lighting in that arena of sweaty desperation, eyes widened and lips were licked. Nervous anticipation filled the place like incense.

Even the bare-titted blonde in the silver thong gyrating around the pole stopped her routine and those girls never stop ‘til their g-strings are draped with singles and, on a good night, fives. The Pole Palace wasn’t the kind of place you’d stuff a $20 into some girl’s crotch unless you grabbed her ass and took back three fives.

I was the rookie NYC cop Supergirl had pulled off street patrol ten minutes earlier in the Greenwood section of Brooklyn; a nasty area that had me keeping my right hand hovering near my holster on a regular basis.

“Officer, can you come help me for a minute.”

I’d heard the whoosh of wind before her request and turned quickly only to be struck by a full-on view of heaven on earth standing four feet away. Apparently she was trying out a new costume and I’m pretty sure my mouth dropped open taking in all that shiny material pasted tight to all that perfection.

“Uh...that’s new...that...that”

“Oh, yes,” she smiled, looking down and flaring her skirt with her hands, “it’s a new polymer from Star Labs we’re trying out; for endurance, resistance to projectiles and chemical solvents. Things like that. Just for a while. I’ll go back to my regular suit when the testing is done.”

I was standing there wondering about the slick material’s resistance to male hands rubbing all over those curves when she coughed politely and asked me to join her as she turned and walked up the street. I followed her like a puppy. Like I said, I was a rookie. Not now though. Not after what was started that night.

“What does the C stand for Officer O’Malley?” she asked, walking quickly. She’d read my nameplate pinned to my uniform shirt. I guessed that the girl didn’t miss much given her skill set.

“Colin, ma’am.”

“Follow me and stay close, please, Colin.” She didn’t have to ask me twice. I was eager to do so for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the view. Also, a body can get dead in that section of town in a hurry.

“There’s a young lady I will be extracting from the premises we’ll be entering just up ahead,” Supergirl stated as she made her way up the block. I jogged up beside her as she continued. “She is under age to be working there and I believe it may not be entirely voluntary. She is a brunette, five-two, with light brown eyes and an ample chest I’m told. I’m sorry I don’t have her photo with me but I will find her and remand her to your care while I cover any instances of resistance should they occur. We good?”

“Yes, ma’am. Do you expect resistance?”

“A little maybe. But I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”


“You shouldn’t have to get overly involved,” she added as she pulled on the handle to the front door.

When we entered the club the thumping drum beat and vocal’s of Beyonce’s “Dance for You” blared out of the cheap CD player sitting on the floor by the featured dancer of the moment. By the time we were approaching the stage, the talent pressed the stop button and stayed there in mid-split with her boobs shaking, just watching with a pronounced pout as another female stole her spotlight.

The bouncer, a close-cropped middle-weight of generous height and too much testosterone for his own good stepped up from the side of the stage and blocked Supergirl’s path with his arm extended. She raised an eyebrow at that dumb move and he didn’t piss himself so props for that. Plus his voice didn’t crack when he asked her, “Can I help you?”

“Stupid is as stupid does,” said Forrest Gump famously and this bouncer was the embodiment of that statement. Nevertheless when you walk around with the level of strength and abilities of Supergirl you must have to learn to deal with assholes on a regular basis without filling up emergency rooms so she didn’t break his arm right then and there. She was terse and to the point however.

“Mandy Travers. Here. Now! Or your elbow bends the opposite direction for a year.”

Blunt force attitude meets its match in heroine ultimatum. He withdrew his arm but then stupidly said, “I don’t think she’s here.”

Supergirl did the eyebrow thing again and Testosterone Ted quickly added, “but I’ll check” and started to turn away.

“Don’t bother,” Supergirl said and took hold of his left biceps. Though her hand didn’t even reach all the way around the huge muscle, the way she pinched it just so slightly had the big fellow dropping to his knees and gasping in a spasm of shock and pain.

“She’s in the ladies room,” Supergirl nodded her head, “through that corridor and around the corner, perched on the toilet in the second stall. Officer O’Malley, would you be so kind to retrieve her?”

“My pleasure. Everybody stay where you are and don’t move. Police business. I’m coming through and I won’t brook any interference.”

“There won’t be any interference, will there, people?” Supergirl called out loudly. You could hear the jewelry clinking all around the place from the avid head shaking, nodding and quavering, women’s and men’s alike.

I retrieved the young lady in question, though not without some reluctance on her part. I was lucky that the stall door’s lock was broken. It was that kind of place. I didn’t have to try to crawl under the damn thing and look like a fool doing so. I simply pulled harder than she pulled and she came out flying into my arms. Her petite body crushed against mine, her ample chest cushioning the impact.

“Now, now, lassie. Be a good girl. This is all for your benefit, Mandy” I said, setting her down on her feet and looking into eyes the color of a diet chocolate shake without the right sweetness. She wasn’t happy about being taken out of the place. I guessed parental rebellion issues. I never found out for sure.

I took the well-stacked brunette teenager wearing a skimpy cowgirl outfit and a pair of plastic six-shooters out to the main room and when she saw Supergirl she gulped audibly.

“My mom and dad sent you, didn’t they?” Her lower lip pouted, plumped out as fat as humanly possible. “How did you find me?”

“A little birdie told me,” Supergirl smiled whimsically and reached out to take Mandy’s hand, but the girl snatched it away before it could be held.

“My little sister ratted me out, didn’t she? I knew she would. She’s getting it when I get home.”

“Your little sister may have saved your life and she was sobbing so hysterically I could barely understand her for the first two minutes we talked. She loves you desperately and idolizes you and thinks you walk on water. You want her to think stripping is a life she should pursue?”

“Hey, what’s wrong with strippin’,” the blonde on stage asked. She was sitting cross-legged in her silver thong, showing off a camel toe not quite the size of a folded beach ball.

“As a life choice for you, not a thing,” Supergirl shot back, “but for this girl and her sister, I think she can do better.”

“You dissing me, Supa’Girl?”

“And if I am?” The eyebrow went up for the final time that night.

“Nothin’,” the dancer mumbled. “Just askin’. Trixie out,” she declared as she pulled her CD player close, rose to her feet with amazing limberness and a surprising air of grace and sashayed off the stage with her ass wiggling all the way through the curtains to the dressing room. It was quite an exit and drew everyone’s attention, even some scattered applause.

“Are you done here,” the bouncer asked, still sitting on the floor, now obviously looking up Supergirl’s skirt and enjoying the view.

“You are,” she growled, flicking her finger to his forehead and sending him crashing onto his back, out cold.

“Hey, that’s police brutality,” declared a voice from the corridor leading to the bathrooms and service area. “Or superheroine brutality. Or vigilantism. Take your pick.” A rotund middle-aged balding man waddled out and stopped three feet away from the trio blocking his stage.

I took the lead on this joker. “Are you the manager?”

“That’s me.”

“Well, Mr. Manager, this establishment is now closed to the public until further notice for employing underage workers.” I then Mirandized the gentlemen and he had a lot less to say after that except to mention that the girl hadn’t even done one routine yet and that she hadn’t been paid so maybe technically wasn’t even employed yet.

“We can sort all this out with your lawyer or the lawyer of whoever owns this club,” I said. “You might want to give him a call.” He did and I called in for support as well with the radio on my shoulder. While we were waiting for the calvary to come to his rescue and my assistance, Supergirl headed out the door with her charge in tow.

I sternly cautioned the manager to stay where he was and ran after her. She was just flying off into the sky with the young cowgirl in her arms when I dashed outside in front of the club.

“Thanks for the collar,” I yelled. She look backed and waved and called out “Thank you for the help, Colin. See you around.” Even from 20 feet up that smile was squeezing my heart like it was juicing an orange. I looked up at the retreating beauty like some star-struck kid watching E.T. cross the moon..

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The last time ve met over our computer link, I vas a member of this club just coming off one-year probationary status. I am Russian businessman, very strong, big shot in my community with connections throughout this city, many legal and some not so legal.

Being a member has made me more money and faster too thanks to connections made here in club. Since that time we had vote and two more members came in to our fold. Now it totals 10 but I am the only Russian. These new members, they vill be discovering there are advantages of our arrangement. Not that they need them badly since nobody who joins club is worth less than four-hundred million dollars. Myself I am worth that twice over. And others, they are billionaires. Is select group.

Today has been called a special meeting. Some of us have experienced big losses that hurt our pocketbooks and our pride. This flying blonde bimbo, Supergirl, she has been disruptive force to the operations of three or four of our members including me. This has been going on, of course, for some time but the bothersome bitch is bearing down even more lately and so this meeting has been called to discuss stopping such nonsense. Permanently.

We meet in cyber-space. Our computers create a sort of conference room, linking avatars of our own choosing that talk to each other. Also there are specially-developed voice modulation programs. Obviously this is for security. The original two members of this club knew each other at one time but since it was to be founded with more members coming on, the Club developed the special security program. Now, thanks to avatars and scrambling, no one knows who the others are. This is safer. No masks needed. No unnecessary exposure to possible business rivals. It is all to the best.

The elected leader, his avatar is Arnold Schwarzenegger from Terminator movie, started the meeting stating the obvious.

“Supergirl has to be neutralized, people! As you know, our by-laws forbid killing but we must stop her. She is costing us millions upon millions of dollars of damage: hurting our supply lines, our influence, and our reputations here and across the globe. I’m open to suggestions from the floor.”

It so happened that I had a contact with someone who could get hold of a top-flight operative who I think could handle the contract so I spoke up. “Excuse me,” my Boris Badanov avatar from the Rocky and Bullwinkle show said, “but I think I can be obtaining the services of a hit-woman called Menace. She was the one who handled that Latin American dictator we needed removed last April to help our exports to his nation. You may have heard that country is now run by someone with a more favorable outlook to our businesses.”

“And you think this Menace can handle a meta-human,” asked Mrs. Peel. Her striking yellow and blue jumpsuit, typical of what she wore on the Avengers tv show, brought back some stirring pre-teen memories. “You believe that she can so thoroughly crush Supergirl physically and psychologically so she can no longer function well enough to cause our businesses any hardship in the future? Because that is what it will take for me to sign off on any contract we agree to here.”

“Da, I do. We can give her whatever resources she requires. This Menace has proven herself most resourceful in the past. I believe she will get the job done and done vell! Vatever it takes! So now, I suggest, considering the amount of money this flying fucktoy has cost me and others here, we offer Menace a contract budget of $20 million dollars, of which $10 million will be the fee. If the expenses don’t total ten million, so much the better.”

“We need to be sure this can’t be traced back to us in any way,” announced Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation. The Data member was being his usual dick and pansy but I told him ‘Of course’ and he seemed satisfied.

And then Robert Shaw as Captain Quint from Jaws spoke his piece. “Don’t you think the price is kinda high, laddie, for this contract? Couldn’t we get by with $10 million?”

“Well, have your businesses been hit by Supergirl stopping a multi-million dollar shipment of phony antiques, Captain Quint?” This question came from Ronald Reagan.

“No. She hasn’t touched any of my businesses. I keep a tight lookout for trouble. Unlike you guys,” Quint added with a smirk of self-satisfaction.

“Ven she does cost you five or six million then you vill think the price is cheap,” I snapped. “Just $2 million from each member is chicken feed for you, Quint. Pony it up and count yourself lucky for now!” I vas particularly angry because Supergirl’s attack two weeks ago on my counterfeit Faberge egg shipment cost me four and a half million bucks by my estimate. What’s more, during my discussion with the Kermit the Frog avatar before this conference call was called to order, he told me that Supergirl had hit one of his strip clubs two nights ago and now the place was shut down for having underage entertainment. I was sure we had the votes to okay a retaliation against the pipe-bending bitch.

The Terminator put the question to the floor, “Does anybody object to hiring this Menace at the stated budget of ten million contract plus up to ten million expenses?”

Frank Sinatra, Kermit the Frog, Ronald Regan and Jessica Rabbit all voted in favor as did the rest of us. It vas unanimous. Supergirl, our first victim, was going to be taken down hard. Not killed but, according to the name of our small group The Defilers’ Club, certainly made to pay for her behavior. In a big way.

We then moved onto other business, including discussions about funds to be put aside for bribing politicians, local law enforcement, building inspectors and every other bureaucrat with his or her hand out. From there we moved onto the legal ramifications of upcoming RICO and conspiracy laws being proposed against us: the usual bullshit. That nickle and dime shit never stops us for long. We find our way around those obstacles like fish swimming through seaweed. It was Supergirl for now who was causing us the most problems. But she would be dealt with too. Life in the Defilers’ Club was good and was about to be getting better.

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My life definitely took a turn for the better when I finally pulled the butt plug of morality out of my ass. It was cramping my style, excuse the pun. I mean, I’m not going around poisoning puppies, mind you; well, unless they’re some yapping runt with his paws on a screen door trying to fuck up my hit of the target sleeping upstairs. Then Fido gets a nice patty of steak tartar with a chewy rat poison center. Bye, bye, doggy; hello $2 million transfer to offshore account. But normally no, I stay away from pets and kids whenever possible. Everyone else is fair game.

So when I got a call from Freefall, my brother-in-law and business manager, asking me to meet with some Russian bigwig from Manhattan Beach who was promising an outstanding payday for a specialty contract hit, I agreed. I trust Freefall implicitly. He’s a lawyer who’s not above bending jurisprudence into a pretzel to get his way or his clients way or my way, but he’s damn good at it so there’s no recoil to hit you in the face when you’re not looking.

The meeting was set for dinner in a swanky Russian restaurant that was busy and noisy. I was told to wear a red scarf while the Russian would be wearing a houndstooth driving cap. Upon entering, I saw him sitting at the bar hovering over a martini. I sauntered right up to him in my pearl gray Chanel suit, the clean lines showing off my figure to full advantage and he looked me over appreciatively as I closed in.

Motioning to the empty stool I said, “Is this seat taken?”

“It is not but let’s take ourselves to a table, yes? We can talk more freely there.” He motioned to the hostess who almost tripped rushing over to him. The guy obviously had pull here, his home turf without a doubt. We were ushered to a table off to the side and presented with our gold-embossed menus. Then, all the silverware and glasses and napkins were whisked away from an adjoining table. Yeah, the guy definitely had a lot of pull!

“What are you drinking,” asked my host.

“A manhattan,” I said to the nodding waitress who appeared like magic behind the hostess. I was wondering if my companion was the owner of the place. The fawning atmosphere was palpable.

After my drink was served and specials were recited with words like ‘drizzled’ and ‘reduction sauce’ and ‘free-range,’ the help retreated away with curtsies and bows and possibly a soft-shoe number. I’d stopped paying attention when my host put his hand on my knee under the table.

“What’s your name, Boris?”


“No shit?”

“I shit you not.”

“Well, Boris. If you don’t move your hand off my knee, it’s going to become someone’s entree in ten seconds. And I’m guessing you own a piece of this place and it’d be bad for business, so there’s a second good reason to move it. Now!”

The hand was withdrawn.

“Thank you. Let’s never make that mistake again because there won’t be a warning next time, understood?”

“Da. It was meant to be a compliment.”

“Use your words. You’re an adult, presumably.”

“You look most beautiful. I am to be taken away by your appearance.”

“Charmed, I’m sure. Can we now discuss why I am here?”

“To business so soon? You have not even sipped your drink.”

I downed the Manhattan in one long pull and set it down on the table.

“I have sipped my drink,” I said, looking him in his eyes, which were a dusty gray.

“Looks like an angel and drinks like the devil. I am to be liking you very much.”

“Again, charmed, I’m sure. Spill. What’s the contract?”

“Okay, fine, we’ll have it your way. There is a certain female who is crashing the party we have been holding for the past few years. She has become a very costly nuisance who we want to toss out of said party without fail but not terminally so, if you get my drift.”

“I do. Gone but not forever.”

“Da. But this is to be no easy thing, I am thinking.”

“Listen, Boris, I presume you know my rep otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me here. I complete my contracts. Every single one of them. No excuses, no misses, no disappointments.”

“Yes, I am knowing all this but...well..this girl is different.”

“Nobody escapes me. There’s no one I can’t take down. Never has been. Especially some girl. Who’s the target?”

He leans in and whispers, “Supergirl.”


“Well, that IS quite a daunting....nuisance,” I said, troubled at the prospect laid at my feet and a bit embarrassed about all my bragging moments before. Then I nodded my head, “And the contract price will be equally daunting.”

“We have a budget to consider.”

“Then you’re wasting my time,” I said, retrieving my purse from the chair beside me and standing up.

“Wait,” Boris said, putting both hands up and motioning me to stay. “Is big budget.”

“How big?” I sat back down.

“What do you think is fair for such a job?” He set his palms flat on the table and looked me in the eyes.

“Something like this? Off the top of my head? Millions,” I chuffed.

“We thought so too.”


“Double digit millions I’d estimate,” I stated. “I mean, you DO know how much the stuff costs that does the job on her, don’t you?”

“Da, I made inquires. Half a cup of this ground-up mineral costs a quarter of a million.”

“And that’s if you can get it! And I’d probably need pounds of it to be sure there are no fuckups. But I see you’re serious about this. Let me put some numbers together and get back to you in a day or two.”

“No. We want to move quickly on this. We have put together the numbers. Ten million for the job plus expenses on top of that, which include the price of the stuff and any... uuhh... traps you have to set to get the job done. This is acceptable?”

“Give me a moment,” I said, reeling with the proposal and trying to look like it was just another day at work. I motioned the waitress for a second manhattan and thought things over while Boris leaned back and sipped his martini, waiting. When my drink arrived I didn’t down it like the first one but sipped it slowly playing for time, bowing my head and figuring the risks. There were plenty.

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress returned from out of nowhere and I almost spilled my drink when she startled me out of my deep thoughts.

Boris took up the slack, ordering two bowls of Ukranian borscht and two Russian-style chicken cutlets. I nodded my assent at his choices and went back to my thoughts, weighing the pros and cons

The pros: all that fucking money! The cons: Possibly my bones crushed to a fine powder, my attractive face rearranged into a cubist‑era Picasso and, last but not least, countless life‑sucking years of prison time for attempted murder on a highly‑beloved world‑renowned meta‑human. Still, those pros were gleaming before my eyes like a huge jackpot on those 10 feet tall slot machines at the casino entrances: a life of absolute leisure, total fuck you money that would allow me to do whatever I wanted, go wherever I desired. It was incredibly tempting!

I took the contract.

And over dinner Boris and I discussed a bit of strategy, a bit of timing and a bit about expectations. The fact that these people didn’t want the heroine dead made things harder for me actually, not easier. But that’s why I was earning the big bucks. They wanted the poor girl roughed up and humiliated to the absolute limit, enough so she couldn’t ever show her face in public without being pointed at and demeaned to tears. I could do that. It might even be fun.

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After I helped Supergirl with that underage strip club collar, things went back to normal for me through the rest of that week. I walked my beat in Greenwood, stopped street corner sales of all sorts of illegal recreational drugs, rousted bums sleeping in the Greenwood Cemetery, and broke up the robbery of an all-night convenience store.

I was in the back picking out a soda and a Slim Jim when some Hispanic punk walked through the door and pointed a gun at the clerk from inside his pocket, loudly demanding, “Give me what you got in the register!” He was so concentrated on the skinny clerk’s fumbling efforts to open the cash drawer that he didn’t hear me sneak up on him. By the time he did, my gun was jabbing into his back.

“Don’t move a muscle,” I said, prodding him with my service pistol. “You’re day is done. Listen to me carefully. Slowly draw your weapon out of your pocket and put it on the counter sideways. Now.”

“Please, don’t shoot me, man,” whimpered the punk.

“Do what I ask and I won’t.”

“I ain’t got no weapon,” he said, pulling his hand out of his pocket.


His motions went into slow-motion and when his hand came out of his jacket pocket it had nothing more than a roll of dimes in his palm. Thrust against the jacket fabric, it had looked the right shape for a gun muzzle. When he put it on the counter sideways, I had to smile. At least the kid knew how to follow directions. I relaxed and pulled his hands behind him, cuffing the wrists together.

“The bad news is you’re under arrest. The good news is you didn’t commit this moronic crime with an actual gun so there’s no mandatory sentence.”

“He didn’t even get his damn register drawer open yet.”

“It’s still a crime, Pedro.”

“It ain’t Pedro, you bigot, it’s Hernando.”

“You think I care? Get moving, Hernando.” I looked back as I ushered the young thief toward the front door. “You okay, sir?”

“Me?” squeaked the pale-faced clerk. “Sure, yeah.”

“Sorry about the trouble here.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” he said, his anger gaining traction against his fear now as I led the perp out the door and called it in on my radio.

Just as I was leaving the store I heard a whooshing sound and looked up in time to see Supergirl streaking by, no doubt on her way to a situation a lot more dire than the one I just handled but I still felt good that we were both serving justice together. I waved but she was long gone and I doubt she even saw me.

Over the next four days, near that same convenience store and around the same time of day I saw Supergirl flying overhead, still wearing that shiny polymer suit. Seeing its gleam in the sunshine was like watching a shooting star with red and blue highlights. She wasn’t always in a rush when flying over but she only waved once and never stopped. I thought it was odd that she patrolled some sort of beat just like me: same territory and such. With the whole city, or even the whole world to watch over, why would she do that?

I had an urge to try to flag her down, to wave wildly and shout to draw her attention but I never did. I simply wanted to tell her it might be dangerous to have such a regular routine. Sure, as a cop I walk a regular beat but it’s not like I’m some night guard who has to maintain a pattern. I change it up a lot. You never know who might be clocking your moves. Still, she was Supergirl so I suppose I was just being silly.

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I was clocking Supergirl’s moves as much as humanly possible. It was a two-fold approach involving tracking the bitch’s patterns on one hand and figuring out my attack options once I knew where she’d be.

Once I verified the ten million in up-front capital was deposited into my numbered account, five mil for my fee and five for expenses, I sat down and worked out a list of things I needed to make, to purchase and to convert for my special purposes. This ambush would have to go off without a hitch or I would end up either in jail or dead.

It was pretty exhausting work, going on 18 hours per day or so with scant hours left to sleep. I’d sleep when the job was planned to the last detail. After that, I’d take a day to sack out like a dead person and then I’d carry out my hit.

Obviously the cunt didn’t need much sleep and patrolled a lot at night. Her daylight routine was a bitch to track. She often disappeared for a full day or so. It seemed like she must have had a day job or something. And at one point that’s the conclusion I came to. Supergirl had a secret identity. I was getting wet just thinking how great it would be to find out what that was! She’d be toast before she knew what hit her, not to mention the fact that it would go a long way toward making sure she’d never bother the Defilers’ Club again once they had that secret locked down.

As for the devices I would need, my research uncovered that ‘alien bitch’ as I’d come to call her, grew up under a red sun and she gets all her powers from a yellow one. That will have to factor into my thinking in some way. Of course there’s the green kryptonite, too, which I’ve been able to locate from a supplier currently sourced in Paraguay. A 20-pound meteor landed there recently that I was told had quite a lot of the glowing green mineral laced through it. My source figures it somehow impacted with a chunk of Supergirl’s home planet in space at some point. Good for me. Not so good for alien bitch. I put in an order for three pounds of the kryptonite, figuring that would be more than enough when properly disseminated over dildos, ropes, crowbars and whatnot.

It was my thinking of how to capture that flying little goodie-two-shoes that led me to the idea that would not only draw in the dumb slut but would also help spread the workload for me. I would use a partner, faking some sort of rape scene to suck Supergirl into my web and distract her with my male ‘assailant’ while launching my attack on her unsuspecting rear. And I was thinking ‘rear’ in a very literal manner. That compatriot could also help me with my tracking efforts, doing the grunt work while I played with all my ambush devices.

It really sped things along and after eight straight days of intense research and prep, we had enough information to pinpoint an ambush attack. The shipment of green k dust had arrived by rush package delivery four days after confirmation with my supplier. That took a big chunk of my up-front expense allotment but it would be worth it. Even Supergirl wasn’t going to be able to escape an attack with about three pounds of kryptonite used on her; not when even a teaspoon of the stuff made her queasy.

My compatriot in the hit was named Malo, a muscular six-foot-six ex-con with 10% body fat, hands that could palm a basketball with ease, and a right cross that could leave you in the ICU sipping your meals through a straw for a month. Not a gentleman but trainable. I’d used him before and he was reliable. He could even act a bit so that would be an added plus.

We worked out the moves, the details, the attack, the procedures after stage one and into stage two. If everything went well then the blonde bimbo wouldn’t have time to react much less attack before she would be up shit’s creek without a paddle. We practiced for four days straight and then I took two days off to catch up on my sleep after all those brutal hours. Then we heard from my Russian friend. He wasn’t happy.

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Time is to be waiting for no man. Also time is money. So when a full ten days went by and I was not hearing major news story of Supergirl being a snot-dripping, weeping, face-battered pussy defeated in battle and begging for her life, I am quite distressed, da? I contacted Menace through her business agent, FreeFall, and set up a meeting in no uncertain terms. We met on my turf in my restaurant again; a booth this time, more in the back area and away from big ears.

“What is going on with our project? It has been almost two weeks and I am hearing nothing in the news. I can’t believe you have gotten the cold feet,” I said.

“Look, Boris,” the woman in the tight-fitting blue suit replied, “I thought you were a smart guy. You have to know filling a contract like this takes a lot of planning and resources. We talked about this. You just don’t walk up to a meta and take her out with a .38. Certainly not this meta. I’ve made a lot of progress though. I’ve been putting your money to good use.”

“Tell me how! I have to answer to others in the Club. Please to be giving satisfactory status report which I expected to have without asking you! I have put myself out on limb for you, you know. If limb breaks and I fall you go down with me. This is certain.”

“I’ve been working night and day on this and nothing else, pal. Back off, sip your drink. I’ll fill you in on everything,” she said, her eyes boring into mine. “This is going down, I promise. I’ve made a lot of progress.”

I did sip my drink and sat back in the booth but I was not placated..

“You know who else has been busy? Supergirl, that is who! Last week she broke into Ronald Regan’s warehouse and stopped a huge arms shipment plus...”

“What? Who’s warehouse? Did you say Ronald Regan?”

“Yes, well, not really. Is just his avatar. That’s not important. One of our club members was introduced to the cost of Supergirl’s interference and is most upset. Plus, last night Jessica Rabbit had her whorehouse busted with the deputy mayor caught on film. This is exactly the shit we hired you to stop. Everybody is calling for the do-gooder’s head and now!”

“Jessica Rabbit is angry with me? Gosh, how will I live with myself.” She sipped her Manhattan with a smirk but I pressed her to tell me her progress.

“Please to be serious and enlighten me. Tell me some good news of how you will succeed in eliminating this blonde cunt.”

“Supergirl has a routine and I know what it is and where she’ll be.”

“This is true? That is not smart on her part.”

“No, it definitely isn’t. It took a lot of time to be sure of it. You can tell your people that’s what’s been the longest part of this waiting period. But that’s all done now. I also know how I will lure her into range and take her out.”

“Well, with the green stuff of course.”

“Well, sure, but again, you just don’t toss the stuff at her like throwing a baseball. You have to be sure she won’t find a way to retaliate. One false move and I could be some Rorschach splatter on a brick wall.”

“Well then, what have you come up with?”

“I’m not telling you that, pal. First, it’s too complicated to spell out in this place; second, it’s my trade craft that I don’t want you co-opting; and third, if you have any leaks, it’s my life on the line. Anyway, I’m still perfecting some of the final details.”

I CAN tell you that I plan to use that drug I mentioned last time we talked. I had it made by a pharmacologist friend of mine. I tested it by slipping it into the drinks of a couple of college girls two days ago. It worked like a charm. Their boyfriends had no idea their prim little dates were such sluts. If it works on the alien like that, we can discuss how to split all the profits coming our way. They should be enormous, probably enough to pay for this hit and several more you have planned down the road.”

I smiled at that thought: a self-funding hit. The Club would definitely be liking that!

“In any case,” Menace went on, “your wait will be over very soon and that alien bitch will be out of your hair and won’t be interfering with your club’s business from now on.”

“You can guarantee this?”

“There are no guarantees in life, Boris, but let’s just say that by the time I’m done with that over-confident teenage twat, she’ll be a shattered remnant of a hero and a public disgrace. You’ll get your money’s worth.”

“So I can report back that this will be done in two days?”

“Unless she changes her routine, that’s a promise.”

“I don’t like room for error.”

“Then you’re in the wrong business.”

She finished her drink with a gulp then left the restaurant.

I went upstairs to my office and arranged another holo-meeting with the Defilers’ Club. I had good news to tell them. Their businesses were to be thriving again and quite soon.

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They call me Malo, the Big Bad One. I grew up in Spanish Harlem. I started out right enough, I guess. My mother was all about reading and improving myself and kept at me about it throughout my youth. I’ve read David Copperfield and Catcher in the Rye. But then when I was 14 my mom got belly shot in a drive-by shooting and it took the cops 14 minutes to get to the scene which was way too late of course. I remember thinking afterwards when the neighbors were talking as my mom was loaded onto the Gurney for the morgue that it was a minute for every year I was alive. After that I had a lot of anger inside me that came out in some very negative ways. With my dad working all the time just to keep us in food and clothes there wasn’t a lot of discipline. And certainly no shrinks around to help me channel all that anger. So I drifted into a life without school at 16, running the streets and getting into petty shit after that. And then into even worse shit from there.

I’ve spent time in the Tombs, Rikers Island, Attica and Green Haven. One ain’t better than another. They’re all prisons so they’re all hell-holes. But when you get convicted of attempted robbery or bashing a guy with a bat and your name is Miguel Lopez, they send you off to prison without a spending a lot of time sweating the details. Especially if you do those two things...which I absolutely did. About four years apart. The prosecutor wrapped up each case in just a day and that included both juries barely breaking for lunch before they came back. They may have been my peers but they thought I was guilty as fuck.

I’m not the brightest guy on the block but usually I’m the biggest. I’ve been big since I was twelve. A lot of the time I got away with stuff thanks to my size. The two times I didn’t I was unlucky ‘cause there was a cop nearby each time. I don’t run from cops. They shoot guys like me without blinking. Like I say, I’m big and my skin’s much darker than your average Protestant. That’s more than reason enough for a cop these days.

There were a couple of other dustups when they dropped lighter prison time on me for lesser shit but it wasn’t a lot. When I’m inside I do my stretch and don’t make trouble so I tend to get out faster. Being six and a half feet tall and spending a lot of time with the barbells keeps me out of fights and I don’t take up with prison gangs. There’s no percentage in it. They all carry grudges and sooner or later they expect you to stand up for the group and that usually ends up in fights or some guy getting shivved and time gets added to your sentence. I don’t need that crap! I suppose if I was some pipsqueak who needed the protection it’d be different. But I’m not so I go my own way.

All told I’ve spent 12 of my 34 years in stir. Almost half my life. I was thinking of trying to go straight after I got out a couple of months back since living half my existence in a cage seemed stupid even for a dope like me. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got plenty of street smarts but when it comes to knowing which number president Lincoln was, I don’t have that shit at my fingertips. Fucker got shot in the head anyway, right, so does it really matter in the long run?

Anyway, I was mulling over what the fuck to do for a living when Kate stopped by. She never told me her last name and I’m not even sure her name’s really Kate. She also goes by a professional name: Menace. We done some jobs together. She’s hired me twice before and none of those times did I get snatched. She plans everything down to the pussy hair! In fact the pay was great and the job was done in no time. This latest job she offered would pay even more she said. Lots more. So I took the gig. And boy did I earn my paycheck. If I’d a known how much I’d be put thorough, I might ‘a taken a straight job but a straight gig wouldn’t of given me a hefty handful of heroine tit. And that was just for starters!

Like I said, Kate put me through long, hard training sessions as well as using me to track the comings and goings of Supergirl. It was all notebooks and ninja shit. I had to write down the time and location every time I saw her fly overhead from lots of different places throughout the five boroughs of New York City. I circled every mention of her in newspapers and recorded all the tv stories she was in. Then I put all those places she showed up in red dots on a huge black and white map of the city pinned to the wall of the warehouse we were working out of.

And the physical training wasn’t a cake walk either. What Kate lacks in size and strength she more than makes up for in judo and karate and all them other Far Eastern fighting styles. More than a few times I landed on my back on the training mat with her foot on my throat. There were moves she put on me that she then trained me how to do that would take any normal person down right quick. I didn’t see though how any of them would work on Supergirl. Not with her powers. “You just let me handle that” she said at first then disappeared into that little lab room of hers for a few hours and would come out smiling and frisky for another training session. That smile though, it weren’t a pleasant thing to see; pretty vicious actually. I was glad I wasn’t going to be the one on the receiving end of it when the shit went down.

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It was just about dusk on a Wednesday evening with the musky scent of autumn leaves in the wind. The bright gleam of sunset was lighting up the building fronts with a rosy hue when I saw Supergirl flying overhead yet again. She was on her regular patrol over the city just like she was the night she pulled me in on the Pole Palace bust. And on last Wednesday night. The girl was reliable but foolish.

I was just inside the southern border Greenwood Cemetery after having just rousted a couple of teenagers exploring the delights of puppy love behind a mausoleum. The young lad was just rounding second and she was waving him to third with some pretty obvious signs when I’d rapped my night stick against the granite block. They’d both looked up at me with their pupils dilated at the steamy height of teenage sexual lust. For a brief second I saw their intensity flare as they each pondered continuing the play but then the umpire of reason interrupted, calling the game on account of shame. They gathered their clothes under my steely glare and wandered out to the streets of Queens with such an air of funky non-closure that I almost felt sorry for them.

That’s when the famous flying blonde teen herself soared overhead. I waved and she was going slow enough to wave back but then slowed her flight path even more, changed her angle and dipped lower. I thought she was going to land near me and say hi but then she turned in mid-air, her short cape snapping with the move, and streaked down to a point about a mile or more away. Something had caught her attention.

Since it was still in my patrol area, I headed that way to see what sort of activity had pulled her down. Besides, the last time we worked together, I’d gotten a nice arrest added to my job performance file so I figured maybe I’d get lucky a second time. And there was always the joy of just standing beside that vision of beauty and watching her work. I struck off toward her landing zone, quite a long walk off. Little did I know just how life-changing that afternoon sighting would be for both of us.

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Everything was set up in the small seldom-used alleyway between two three-story buildings just the way Menace planned it. Our location was in exactly the right place on Supergirl’s patrol route based on the endless hours of research we’d done. If she flew over, she’d see and hear our staged battle.

Both ends of the alley had tall official-looking metal signs posted that Menace had ordered from a supply house declaring “Danger! Do Not Enter. Work in Progress.” The bold red background with white lettering would discourage any passing pedestrians during our ambush while blocking their view. We had even dug out a small pit off to the side and put an orange traffic cone there to add a touch of realism to the scene

The projectors and the four cameras to record the event were all carefully hidden. They wouldn’t attract any notice unless Supergirl was overly suspicious. Our tools were all tucked away in trash cans and wooden crates covered with artfully-applied lead paint splotches that looked well-aged and concealed the tools’ whereabouts from prying Kryptonian eyes. Even the injection apparatus we were wearing was tiny enough not to be noticed until it was too late.

Sure, my stomach was doing flip-flops but we’d practiced the routine at least a hundred times so the moves would be perfect. It was just a case of healthy nerves like you might get before you start playing a football game or when the curtain goes up on a play you were starring in.

Menace and I were both wearing jogging outfits that she’d carefully thought out. Both of us were dressed in clothing plausible for our roles yet easy to move in. We both looked like we were in cool-down mode taking a shortcut through an alley on our way home together and had ignored the posted warning signs. I was wearing black spandex shorts, a New York Rangers t-shirt and a lightweight navy-blue nylon hoodie. We were both wearing cross-training sneakers. Menace had on a pink “Breast Cancer Survivor” ball cap for instant empathy, a tightly-fitting long-sleeved pink tank top that was one of those spandex and cotton numbers from Under Armour: the kind that’s supposed to ‘wick away your perspiration and keep you cool.’ It wasn’t keeping me cool looking at her. Far from it. Her 36 double C’s were nicely showcased by all that shiny pink fabric and she keeps herself in perfect shape, let me tell you.

The matching gray and pink running capri pants of a similar fabric clung to her legs like a shy toddler in a roomful of strangers. Her ass in those things was a beautiful sight to behold. Round, luscious and invigorating. I sure didn’t need to be reminded to grab her tit like the abusive boyfriend scenario called for, I was eager to take my role in hand and the instant I saw the blue and red figure fly over the Greenwood Cemetery, I did that with pleasure. I squeezed her tittie and Menace screamed out “Hey! Stop that!” loud enough to hurt my ears, then pushed a button on the remote inside her little hip pack and we were underway.

I squeezed Kate’s breast again and then pushed her against the brick wall, back first, with enough force to make her neck wobble. I didn’t feel bad about that. She’d called me ‘pussy’ enough times in training when I went too easy on her that she’d drilled the remorse right outta me.

“I’m tired of you running your mouth 24/7, bitch! I ain’t your toy. You’re mine! Got that? You don’t want to put out in the bedroom? Then how about putting out right here and now?” I yelled that out with plenty of rage and then gave that same breast a good hard third squeeze.

Next I went in against Kate’s body, pressing her to the wall with one hand mauling her tit and the other squeezing her crotch, all while forcing a kiss on her. I was about to give her my tongue when my body was yanked backward and I was flying through the air for about eight feet until I crashed into a set of garbage cans. On the way there I heard a lilting little “No means no,” from a feminine voice that turned out to be the guest of honor in our little playlet.

The crash into the cans hurt a bit more than I expected but not overly so. Nevertheless, I played a little possum like I was already almost out for the count. Some groaning and a little rolling around.

“You okay, miss?” Supergirl asked, keeping me under a watchful eye as she went over to comfort my victim. Up close, after all that time studying her movements from a distance, the sight of the girl hero was not as intimidating as I expected. She looked like a normal beautifully-shaped college girl if you ignored the short mid-back cape, the tight gleaming super suit and the bright red fuck-me boots; plus the fact that she tossed my sorry-ass six-foot-six body through the air without even thinking about it. Just your average girl-next-door, if next door was about 85 gazillion light-years away.

“What’d’ju do that for,” Menace growled. “You don’t think I can handle myself?”

“I was just flying by and thought you looked like you could use a hand. He’s quite a big man.”

“He wishes he was a big the bedroom. Now he’s out here trying to convince the world of that by tuning me up. I’ll show you how to tune someone up, Hector!”

Suddenly Supergirl was forced to hold back my surging ‘mate.’ She easily restrained Menace, keeping both hands on her biceps while my partner tried her best to get away and hit me. Supergirl wasn’t having it though and that prevented Kate from getting anywhere near me. That was my cue. I jumped to my feet and ran at the pair like as to body block them both into the brick wall behind them. I was extremely careful about my angle of approach since I knew what was about to happen.

Supergirl heard my approach, turned her head and held one arm out. I immediately pulled up making sure my chest hit against her upraised palm. I bounced off it and went backwards hard, landing on my ass with a grunt and wavering there, numbed by the contact. It was like running straight into a light pole. I didn’t have to fake that extra little fall onto my back on the tarmac from my ass-squat.. It hurt that much. The moan was not acting either nor was my looking up at the sky and wondering why I was there.

Nevertheless, I think I might have noticed a twinge of surprise from the alien when I hit her. Something unexpected had occurred. Her palm had flexed back and the yellow border at the end of her sleeve twisted a fraction. What the meta-human didn’t know was there was a pair of projectors shining down on her from the second floor of the two opposing buildings on either side of the alley. They were bathing her in twin cones of energy the exact wavelength as that of a red sun. These beams were masked by the red glow of the sunset and they were draining her powers off. Of course they weren’t making her really weak, not even close to human strength levels, just pulling out about 10% of her powers by that point. I had it explained to me during training, all the yellow sun’s rays were still giving her plenty of oomph. Still, while the projectors seemed to be having some minor effect, the teenager didn’t seem overly concerned by it. She snapped out of her mild wonderment with a taunt..

“He’s not very bright, is he?” Supergirl still had one hand around my girl’s biceps.

“You’re awfully judgmental for someone who’s an alien,” Kate said, angrily pulling her arm out of Supergirl’s loosened grip. “What? You never had a boyfriend smack you around to keep you in line?” My dance partner was stalling to maximize Supergirl’s exposure to the red sun waves.

“What? No!” Supergirl turned completely around and looked aghast at Kate. “No man has a right to hit a woman.”

“Wow! You DO come from a different planet: It’s no big deal,” Kate shrugged.

Supergirl put her hands on her hips, with her shiny costume glinting in the dwindling alley light. She launched into some tiresome feminist sermon on women’s rights and how no person was another person’s property and some other bullshit while I took the time I needed to recover from her stiff-arm. The chest bruise would be nice and purple for at least a week I was sure. After a minute of feminist blather from the Moron of Steel who was unwittingly letting her powers be drained out of her by her good intentions, I was ready for my next move.

I stood up and readied a second bull charge. Blondie was so busy lecturing Kate that she didn’t see me get to my feet. I was very quiet about it and I guess some of the those red sun beams sucked out some of her super hearing because she didn’t turn around until I was about three feet away. Kate stepped to the side and that’s when the lightbulb went on in Supergirl’s head and she spun in place. She put both palms up but this time her light pole trick didn’t work. I power-drove her into the brick wall. The back of her skull opened up a big round hole in the wall and reddish brick dust blew out in a cloud around her head, mixing with the sunset. It was pretty and gritty at the same time. I was admiring the floating specks when reality started up and the teenage hero with the S on her rack quickly shoved me right back into the garbage cans again.

I took the fall as well as I could under the circumstances but I admit I was groggy from being tossed around like a bean bag. In fact, it felt like some of them beans were leaking out. I looked down at my right side and saw a gash where the lid of some steel can had sliced through my hoodie, my t-shirt and into my body. That was unexpected. Someone had dumped new trash into the can since we set it up in the wee hours of the morning.

I was trickling blood and was just pulling the lid out of my flesh when Supergirl strode over to continue her lesson about chivalry in modern day America.

“Your behavior is completely unacceptable. You’re going to jail for assault, pal. Even if your girlfriend here refuses to press charges, I will,” Supergirl growled. Then she leaned over and grabbed my hoodie, my shirt and all the chest hair I’d grown since puberty into her fist and lifted me in the air with one arm. I screeched loudly. I’m not proud of that. But under my screech was a noise that was music to my ears...and Menace’s too, I was sure.

Supergirl grunted.

The projectors had drained off more of her superpowers by that point I was delighted to find out. It seemed to take some extra effort on her part to hold my 275 pounds off the pavement against the pull of gravity so instead she threw me across the alley into the opposite wall. My back hit first but not my head which was lucky although I did end up in a heap there. Supergirl came stalking after me so I tried a quick leg sweep to take her off her feet. She hopped over that like a kid enjoying a game of hopscotch then she swung down at my chest with her fist. I grabbed her wrist with my left hand and twisted it; well, tried to twist it. It didn’t turn more than a fraction but I was able to cushion the blow with my palm and at least redirect its forward momentum away from the bruise she’d laid on me earlier. It still thumped against my chest hard enough to make me gasp out in pain.

Needless to say, she was surprised at my ability to deflect her blow; so surprised that I was able to rocket my right fist up from my sitting position into her left tit. Although her breast did recede a fraction of an inch with the impact, the punch hurt my knuckles like a motherfucker. Nevertheless, Supergirl was forced back two steps thanks to mass and physics and all that. Still, thankful, I took the opportunity to get to my feet and into a fighting stance.

“Wow, that tit felt softer than I expected,” I lied. “You can tell me the truth, are they real or implants,” I asked, circling my fists in the air and feinting a bit to make her choose where to strike next. I was using every tactic possible to give the projectors more time to drain her super-strength away. “The only reason I ask is because you’re stuffing that blouse so nicely. More than I remember from the news clips. Is little flat-chested Supergirl filling out at last? Is that it?”

We circled a bit and the angry teen looked ready to pick her opening so I threw in another callous insult.

“Or maybe it’s just that shiny material of your new costume. I love how it clings so tightly to those perky hooters.”

“You talk too much, perv!” She went for a mule kick which I didn’t expect but was able to twist away from at the last instant which left her off balance and completely shocked. I pivoted around and came out behind her. Using both hands I shoved her hard toward the brick wall but she only stumbled two long strides before regaining her balance. When she turned she was enraged and confused.

“I don’t know what kind of vitamins you’re taking, Hector, but this ends now!”

Supergirl came at me again but this time she suddenly leapt up into the air, hovering in an unsteady wobble thanks to the projectors working their magic, and kicked at my face from about 10 feet up. I ducked my head and her boot tip whizzed past me so closely it sounded like an angry bumblebee buzzing by. Supergirl frowned, perplexed at missing her mark.

That’s when Menace got back into the fight. She jumped up from behind the blonde and grabbed the trailing edge of her short cape. You’re not supposed to tug on a super’s cape; Jim Croce even put that in a song, but my partner ignored the rules and I was thankful she did. Supergirl’s second kick just scraped my forehead and sent me somersaulting into the side of a dumpster but thanks to Menace it wasn’t a knockout kick from the heroine.

The wide-eyed squawking teen was yanked down to the ground, landing hard on her back. Menace followed up her surprise attack by stomping down on Supergirl’s face but the blonde still had more than enough power to catch the oncoming sneaker and freeze it inches before it struck. Then she shoved it back and my partner went flying off toward the wall opposite me, soaring backward through the air until she hit it with her back. I heard the grunt before she fell forward onto her hands and knees, her head shaking. Well, this was going terrifically. Red sun projectors or not, Supergirl was kicking our asses!

“Now I’m taking you both in to the authorities for assault,” said the posing heroine, her hands on hips, legs spread a bit with her chest thrust out. There was no wind to flap her cape but other than that, she was rocking her look. Her haughty smile was what got us both to our feet. That and the huge fee we were being paid for the so far unsuccessful hit.

The two of us circled the heroine who simply followed us with her eyes. Having dispatched us both she was feeling confident again. Meanwhile though the twin projectors shone down their bathing rays of rosy light, mixing with the sunset, continuously drawing off more and more of the Kryptonian’s powers as she stood there ready to repel our attack.

I looked at Menace and she held up her hand, flashing one of the signals we’d worked out for different attack patterns. She called for Beta 2 and I smiled; one of my faves. We both went at her at the same time with our left fists aiming at her head and just as Menace had deduced from the taped fight scenes she’d culled from the internet of Supergirl’s past battles, she used the expected double block, arms out with elbows at 90 degrees and fists upraised. We both went for her torso with follow-up rights and I guess that wasn’t a surprise to her because she just rotated her elbows downward to block us again. The three of us repeated this pattern two more times with Supergirl actually grinning as her forearms went up and down preventing us from getting through. That’s when Menace kicked out at Supergirl’s knee. She rotated to avoid it and that gave me the opening for my kidney kick.

Normally, Supergirl could have avoided both Menace’s knee shot and my kidney kick with a super-speed twirl and flattened us both with a leaping split kick out, but things were far from normal. My kick got through.

“Oww!” she yelped, bending with a sideways flinch. The blow had hurt her. Menace followed up with a right cross that jerked Supergirl’s face to the side. But Supergirl’s eyes narrowed and she retaliated with a jab of her own that landed in Menace’s gut just as she was jerking her hips backward to avoid it. The jab was still hard enough to send my partner reeling off with a retching noise that didn’t sound good. So I kicked Little Miss Sunshine in the crotch while she wasn’t looking. Her knees knocked together, her torso bent forward and those blue eyes crossed in pain, but still the bitch didn’t go down. That was depressing.

I went for a double-armed shoulder blow but to my own shock, Supergirl recovered from my crotch kick and caught both my forearms in her palms with a loud smack. She held them there frozen in place as we looked into each other’s eyes.

“Whatever you’re doing isn’t working fast enough, Hector,” snarled the blonde. “This game is...OHH!”

Menace came up from behind our patsy and finally gave her the needle. And if my adversary was alarmed before about her power problems, her expression changed from one of angry resolve to one of complete and utter shock as her ass got palm-squeezed. My partner had just injected Supergirl with a new street drug called PleZZure along with a powerful horse tranquilizer.

Let me explain a bit about the needle and what it delivered.

Menace got her hands on about three pounds of kryptonite most of which she had ground down into powder. She used it to coat all sorts of shit, a bunch of our tools and ropes and chains, you name it. Even a big iron spike which she coated with kryptonite paint of some kind. But one of the neat things she did was coat two very tiny hollow-point carbon-tipped needles only an eighth of an inch long with kryptonite. She attached these needles to micro-filament rubber hoses and the other ends to serum pods filled with a combination serum of horse tranquilizer and a newly-developed aphrodisiac called PleZZure. The cocktail was laced with enough liquified kryptonite to ensure they would be effective.

Kate told me this PleZZure stuff wasn’t like a roofie, it didn’t paralyze muscle control. Instead it fully activated the pleasure center of the core mind as she put it. Anyone dosed with the stuff, male or female, would lose every inhibition they had pretty quickly while also being incredibly horny for about 90 minutes. Skin sensitivity and all that stuff that gets a body in the mood for sex, that stuff would be going through the roof, Kate claimed. It reached total effectiveness in about six minutes and well, how did Menace put it? “A person’s moral compass? Fucked up beyond belief!”

And she’d just injected about 20 cc’s of the stuff into Supergirl’s ass cheek thanks to that tiny little green needle. And that was including the potent horse sedative that would make the heroine real susceptible to outside influences if not downright groggy. The whole get up was hidden in Menace’s fingerless glove and wound through her running top to the end point: the propulsion and dosing pod in her belly pack. Delivered by air pressure, it was a one-time deal but it would do the trick, especially if all went as planned.

Except there was that six-minute window where the narcotic and the PleZZure needed time to circulate in Supergirl’s body. That was where I was supposed to come in; to be the distraction and the muscle. Along with the red sun projectors, Menace had figured I would be able to keep the alien bitch occupied in fighting and talking until the drugs kicked in. The only problem was, I was the one being kicked in: kicked in the gut, kicked in the head, kicked in the shins. The moment after her ass got injected, Supergirl got super angry. She dialed up a new level of power and tossed me back with a roar. Then she started to wale away at me. Thank heaven and thank Menace that the red sun projectors had been working on her since she landed and that the sun was now over the horizon and darkness had begun to settle, otherwise you wouldn’t be hearing this story from me.

It was a fuckin’ miracle no bones were broken. Instinctively, Supergirl might have been holding back a bit. A big mistake on her part. If she’d taken me down ruthlessly, she could have saved herself but she played her hero role just the way Menace psych profiled her and that saved my ass. Except my ass didn’t feel saved. All the kicking, punching and pain delivery was like a one- way street with a 60 mile-per-hour-speed limit, meaning it went by quick and there was no opposing traffic from me. I think I got in one hard shot to the blonde’s left arm and that didn’t phase her one bit.

After a brisk two and a half-minutes, when the alien powerhouse felt that the lump of Malo curled up on his in a fetal position before her presented no threat, and based on my groaning and blood splatter across the street, she had deduced that pretty well, Supergirl turned around and faced Menace.

“Okay, now it’s your turn, lady. What was that you stuck me with?”

“Nothing,” my lady friend said backing up to the brick wall.

Supergirl closed in on Menace then stood a foot in front of her. Fast as lightning, she grabbed Menace’s wrist and held up her glove, she plucked the tiny glowing green needle out with her fingertips with a grimace and held it up to my boss’ face. All tubing and other connected paraphernalia had been quickly pulled out and tossed aside while Supergirl was doing her “Stallone pounds on the side of beef scene” from the original Rocky. Yours truly playing the part of the dead cow.

“You thought this little amount of kryptonite would do me in?” Supergirl flicked the needle to the side with her fingertips in disgust. It buried into the side of one of garbage cans not far from my head with a loud and disturbing clang that echoed along the alley. The girl knows how to make a point. I was chastened. Being slumped into a fetal ball and moaning like I was, how could I not be. Had our plan been that badly managed? It sure felt that way to me. All over me in fact.

“Who are you? What’s your game here?”

If the Maid of Steel wanted to chat, my pal Menace was certainly going to oblige her. Anything to stall her so the projectors could knock her down to maybe eight percent power in the growing gloom of night and to buy the precious time needed for the drugs to work, especially the horse tranquilizer.

“There’s an organization of very influential people whom you’ve upset,” Menace declared and paused, slowly revealing the truth; unwinding it slowly so the teenager would hear it all and still be able to do nothing about it by the time the conclusion of the revealing tale was reached. “They’re called the Defilers’ Club and they paid me quite a large sum of money to make you go away.”

“They wasted their money then. I don’t go away easily. Usually not at all,” Supergirl replied haughtily.

“Ten million dollars to make you go bye-bye.”

“Boy, did they get taken.”

“I doubt they’ll feel that way,” Menace retorted cooly. “Since that was just my fee. The expenses were extra.”

“Expenses?” Supergirl looked around the street, eyeing me still fetalized on the ground. Then she finally noticed the red glaring projectors shining down on her from above. She did the math and frowned, finally understanding the cause of her weakness.

“Red sun projectors,” she groused, then focused her eyes and matched their red glow with her own. Unfortunately for her, those eyes had been too compromised by now. Her light beam was a faded red cone that didn’t make it past the first story of the building no matter how hard she stared. Diffused and pitiful, Supergirl’s heat vision was gone from her arsenal right now. She turned and glared at Menace but my girl hadn’t been idle. From a wooden box she was standing beside, she’d stealthily withdrawn a dark gray cloth. The second Supergirl turned her glare on Menace, my partner snapped the cloth at Supergirl’s face with her left hand and the material wrapped around the heroine’s head like a bullwhip. A quick step forward and with the press of her thumb, Menace velcro’d the lead-lined blindfold tightly closed over those deadly eyes. Who knows how bad the damage could have been from short range?

The moment Supergirl huffed in annoyance and raised her arms to pull off the blindfold, Menace brought out her right fist from behind her back. It was shrouded in a glowing green glove and Menace gave Supergirl the gut punch of her life, right in those bare abs of hers. It was the second toy hidden in the wooden box and that one doubled the alien bitch over right and proper.


Menace yanked up on Supergirl’s hair and delivered three more thundering gut punches.


The kryptonite glove worked like a charm. The blonde heroine had folded in half, clutching her arms around her middle and wheezing desperately for air.

Off her game now but not completely, the blindfolded Supergirl heard Menace step forward for yet another follow-up blow and she flailed both arms out, blocking the upper cut aimed at her chin. The smirk on Supergirl’s face lasted about half a second when the blocked upper cut was followed by the real punishment Menace had planned, the right cross to her cheek with the glowing green glove. It turned Supergirl’s head to the side and knocked her down to all fours, dazed and disoriented. She wobbled there for just a few seconds. It was a few seconds she didn’t have the luxury to take. I was on my feet now, finally recovered enough to make my next move. I launched myself through the air at Supergirl’s body, flying toward that pretty skirted ass, those exposed panties and that shaking head of tousled blonde hair.

I landed on the teenage heroine’s back hard, with all my 275 pounds of muscle and revenge dead-weighting onto her compromised figure. And still the bitch didn’t collapse to the street! I was hoping to collapse her like a smashed pumpkin but she just grunted and began to stand up with me clinging to her body like a baby monkey to its mom. Okay, a very big baby monkey. To make matters worse, that cape of hers was slippery and it was all I could do to not be tossed aside by Supergirl’s twisting figure. My panicked eyes sought Kate’s. Our strategy wasn’t working. It was taking forever for the drugs to take effect.

I have to hand it to my boss though, she kept her cool. Of course she wasn’t the one about to be pile-driven into the tarmac. She nodded briskly at me and made the motion we’d agreed on. So I did what we’d planned. As she straightened up to her full height I grabbed Supergirl’s left tit in my own fingerless glove. I felt the growing softness of her breast give under the glove thanks to the red sun projectors and injected another 20 cc’s worth of our special cocktail into her system from the small serum container sewn into my belt.

Apparently Star Labs’ polymer couldn’t handle the pounds per square inch of pressure applied by a guy my size holding a carbon-tipped needle. The kryptonite had no effect on the shiny blue polymer but it sure pierced into Supergirl’s breast without a problem. She yelped and rose on her toes and arched her back all at the same time. Once again I was thrown among the over-turned garbage cans, flat on my back. The seething blonde beauty was stomping toward me with her skirt slapping against her thighs and nothing but destruction in her eyes.

Her eyes! The lead-lined blindfold was dangling from her clenched left fist!

I was pretty sure that Menace’s psyche profiling of my onrushing tormentor was now out the window and that I would be spending the rest of my life as a drooling quadriplegic in a rest home in Buttfuck, Montana.


Just as I was staring at the anger contorting those angelic facial features into fearsome avenging justice, all the rage in those blue eyes turned to confusion and then to outright stupidity. Maybe it was the rush of blood coursing through her from her rage but whatever finally pushed her over the edge, Supergirl’s jaw went slack, her tongue flopped over her lower lip, and her striding legs turned to rubber. She dropped the blindfold, stumbled sideways, then lurched badly in the opposite direction and spun away from me before her legs buckled completely and once more the blonde heroine fell to all fours. But this time it was different. Now she was moaning and muttering softly, facing away from me, hardly understandable. And this was even before my second dose had a chance to take effect. This was just the first dose hitting home...hard!

Once again her panties below her skirt were on display, clinging tightly to those two rounded butt cheeks. The dimpled cleft of the shiny red polymer crotch molded itself to her pussy, defining her sudden vulnerability with heart-stopping clarity. Supergirl’s ass swayed back and forth as my heavily drugged prize fought for balance in non-existent gale force winds. Our special horse tranquilizer cocktail was performing up to code.

“ cum dishap...pen’n...tuh

Phew! I was going to live after all, and live well after this payday! And speaking of pay, now it was time for some pay...back! I started it off with some taunting.

“What did I do to you?” I replied, quickly getting to my feet. “Why, just a little kryptonite-enhanced horse tranquilizer.” I reached into the one non-overturned garbage can in the street. It was tied with steel wire to the hinge of a tightly-locked steel door. We’d done it just last night when we prepared the scene at three in the morning. I retrieved a crowbar from a chamois cloth within the lead-lined can. The bar had been painted with kryptonite just hours before and I smacked the glowing green beauty into my hand loudly as I advanced on the Maid of Steel “But hey, you’re the mighty Supergirl. You’re not going to let a little thing like a horse tranq slow your roll, are you, champ?”

Standing to the side of the wobbling beauty, I leaned down and grabbed a fistful of blonde hair in my left hand and pulled. Her torso came up but the arms dangled limply at her sides with her thighs quaking in place as I brought the world-famous teen to a kneeling position, her head tilted back and her lazy blue eyes half rolled under her lids.


Lowering the end of the crowbar in my right hand to her waist, I then snapped it upward so the glowing green steel bar clipped hard into the helpless heroine’s chin.


“NNGH!!” Those irises did a full disappearing act with nothing but white showing. The Maid of Steel now hung limply in my grip like a trophy trout. Stunned into a shadowy world of semi-consciousness, she moaned and drooled and shuddered helplessly in place..

“Well, I guess you are,” I said, completing my taunt. I let the defeated figure drop to the street like a soggy brown bag of spoiled tomatoes.

Menace came forward eager to restrain the heroine with a pair of kryptonite-treated handcuffs before the mighty teenager could mount a counter attack, but the way Supergirl was laying cheek-to-street with her skirt flipped up and that prime teenage ass in full view, for the first time that day she didn’t look like much of a threat to me.

I was hoping the cameras stationed all around the alley caught my good side when I delivered that stunning chop. But if not, that was okay. There would be plenty more opportunities to catch it over the next fifteen minutes. Stage Three of what the Defilers’ Club had paid about ten million dollars for so far was about to begin: the beat down.

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Okay, I have to be honest here. This was my favorite hit of all time. I mean there were others that offered personal satisfaction for a job well done; some of them that were cleverly planned down to the last little detail and carried off without a hitch; some very quick with huge paydays; but this one? This was my Mona Lisa, my Starry Night, my Sistine Chapel. This was the contract hit that would cement me forever in the annals of assassins, except for the fact that I didn’t kill the alien bitch.

You know what else? It was the most fun hit of my life. It was like enjoying a jawbreaker that had a different flavor the longer you sucked on it. Layer after layer, this hit offered a new and delightful pleasure. It was fucking amazing! The take down, the beat down, the sexual disgrace, the whimpering, the pleading, the helpless orgasms: it was a dream come true from start to finish.

Malo did an incredible job right from the get-go. He sold the disgruntled lover assaulting his bitch girlfriend act as well as Johnny Depp could have. Maid Moron bought it hook line and sinker. By the time she wised up to the fact it was an ambush, it was already too late. Those two red sun light projectors cost a pretty penny but they were worth every dime. And naturally the kryptonite worked like a charm. Yes, it was another budget breaker but expenses weren’t part of my fee so what did I care? And that new drug, PleZZure? Boy, even I didn’t think it’d be as effective as it turned out to be on that little virginal twat hero. That was quite the eye opener!

The only issue was the longer-than-expected time it took for the projectors to drain alien bitch’s powers and the horse tranquilizer to work. Malo paid a pretty price for that and I bumped his fee by 10% for his troubles. He should be right as rain again in another few weeks with all the damages from the hit healed and his bank account padded by more than $750,000. And that didn’t come out of my fee. And even with that, we were still under budget on expenses by two million bucks.

Anyway, when the horse tranquilizer finally dulled the Maid of Steel’s brain to soggy corn meal, from then on out, it was easy pickin’s. I walked over to her right as Malo clipped her good on the chin with the k-painted crowbar. She was so out of it she didn’t offer a shred of resistance when I used the k-treated handcuffs to shackle her wrists together behind her back Once that was done, Malo handed me the crowbar and hoisted Little Miss Sunshine to her feet, holding her up by threading his harms between hers and forcing her chest forward. Alien bitch was too out of it at that point to stand on her own but I grabbed her hair, pulled her head up and slapped her back and forth with a couple of smacks to bring her to her senses.

You could tell she wasn’t used to handling pain. I figured that and used it right off to get her attention good. I twisted her nipple through that shiny top of hers like it was a knob on some old-time radio.


Her eyes de-clouded a bit at that and I leaned in, ready to offer her the proposal the Defilers’ Club wanted her to agree to.

“You listening, bitch? I don’t like repeating myself.”

“Whoever you are, you won’t....Owwww...ohhh...!” I’d twisted the same nip again, Slow and hard.

“Shut up, cunt! I don’t have time for your hero bullshit! You’re not calling the shots now. I am. Got that?”

She fumed at me but didn’t answer so I twisted her other ‘knob’ and her body retracted into itself as she squealed. Malo moved his arms behind her though and the tits were forced up front and center again for my convenience.

“I asked you if you were listening....Supergirl?” I doused her name in heavy sarcasm and threatened another twist on her left knob when she flinched and replied with a reluctant “Yes.”

“Good. Now that Defilers’ Club I mentioned before, they want you to cease and desist in all heroine activities starting right now. And by that I mean completely ... not so much as a rescued cat out of a tree, blowing out a fire or counter-winding some tornado threatening a pig farm. You’re done with all that here and now. Agreed?”

“Never!” Her blue eyes drilled into mine despite the drugs and the pain. I’d touched the core of who she was. I had to give her credit, she had some guts. It was my job to make her regret that stubborn streak though and to have her renounce every heroic instinct in her nature. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy which is why I had loaded up on all the tools I had. I just didn’t know how much fun it was going to be for me. And even for her at times. But not right off, no. Her fun would have to come later.

“Never, huh? Well, we’ll revisit that answer in just a while. Let’s see how determined you are after we weigh the pros and cons as I see them, okay?”

I rammed the curved end of the k-painted crowbar into alien bitch’s exposed abs and shouted “Con” as she doubled over with a grunt. She pulled the surprised Malo over her back at the stunning agony I’d delivered but he regained his balance and pulled her back up exposing her body to me again. She was gulping for air and her eyes had lost some of their luster but not as much of her defiance as I expected.

“Con!” I swung for the fences with the crowbar and her two tits took my thumping horizontal swing at them simultaneously. The crowbar recoiled off their softness but I held it firmly in place just a foot away from them immediately after that, like A-Rod checking his swing. The heroine’s legs went rubbery and she gasped in pain at the blow, Malo holding her up as her tits bounced and shook until they finally settled. I knew that must have hurt like a motherfucker but I was being paid to do a job.

Lifting Supergirl’s head by her hair I looked into her eyes again. Less luster there now but I still felt there was defiance left. She handled pain better than I expected. I went for her shins shouting “Con” as the metal bar thudded against her legs.

Supergirl screamed, her head thrown back even as she went limp. Though the material of her boots had provided some protection, clearly it wasn’t nearly enough. Her body heaved and shook and she sobbed a bit within Malo’s tight hold of her before I grabbed the back of her scalp and pulled her face back down and closed in on it real tight.

“Want to know the pros of my argument, bitch? I stop doing this shit. You want that, right? You’ll agree to stop being Supergirl, take up Pilates or something, and let the grownups do their thing? What do you say? Sounds good, yes?”

“...g...go to hell....” she murmured, “ are.”

“The name’s Menace. That’s Malo behind you holding you up. And you just made a huge mistake, bitch, because I’m going to stop asking you that question for a while. I’m just going to wale away on you. Tenderize the tough meat you think you are!”

“’ll have to..kill me...i...will never stop being...Supergirl,” the plucky idiot said..

“There’s that word ‘never’ again. You have a lot to learn about relativity, you sorry cunt!”

And then I got serious on her ass and Supergirl learned some new lessons about the limits of what a kryptonian body can withstand without any actual bones breaking. Taking turns, the two of us used the crowbar repeatedly and harshly on her: her abs, her arms, her thighs, her tits. I clocked her face, the back of her head and her tail bone. I even used the kryptonite glove on her, smacking it hard against that now-yielding flesh and seeing the bruises form. And with every blow either I or Malo would say or shout the word “con” like it was a kid’s backyard game. It got to be a silly joy for us two but not for the blonde teenage heroine. She didn’t handle it well and by the end was flinching noticeably when the word was called out even before the bar battered her or the glove smashed home.

She was a split-lip, snot-dripping, purple-bruised, bleary-eyed, nose-bleeding mess under my and Malo’s tutelage but still surprisingly resistant to our deftly-posed arguments against remaining a heroine. I figured it was time to take the party inside. It was now night and even with the signs blocking the alley, her grunting and whimpering was getting louder by the blow. I didn’t want the action halted by some flatfoot wandering by and spoiling my hit.

“Okay, sunshine. We’re moving you now. But don’t worry, there’s plenty more fun to be had behind this partition,” I said, unlocking the steel door in the alley wall. “Malo, would you render our guest senseless? There’s a few things I want to prepare for her.”

“My pleasure,” he said, holding up the sagging, badly-beaten superheroine by her left biceps. He raised up the crowbar and swung it hard down on back of Supergirl’s head with one fluid act. With a noticeable thunk, alien bitch’s eyes rolled up and she collapsed to the street in a boneless lump of soundly-dispatched red and blue-plastic-clad teenager. Ah, the joy of a job well done!

Malo picked up the sack of shit do-gooding beauty, hoisted her over his shoulder so that her limp arms draped down his back and her long bare legs hung over his broad chest. Those cute red panties of hers that everyone loved sneaking upskirt views of when she landed? With her little plastic skirt immodestly hiked up, those slippery red babies glowed nice and bright in the light of a full moon. He gave the teen’s rounded backside a couple of gentle smacks and a smooth little rubdown, his hands circling the wide buttocks pointed at his smiling face, then, after a final hard squeeze of her cheek fat, headed on inside the warehouse. Through it all Little Miss Wunderkind didn’t utter a peep.

Gratified with how well things had gone, I reached into my belly pack and switched off the red sun projectors. I didn’t want them attracting any attention to the scene. The twin red cones disappeared, their job done. Supergirl was now at a tiny fraction of her powers and would be going into a sunless room where her powers wouldn’t be unduly helped by mere fluorescent lights.

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It took me almost forty minutes to get over to the place where I estimated that Supergirl had landed. It was over a mile away and I ran into Latesha and Buffy plying their trade on a street corner. Latesha was leaning into the window of a Chrysler 200 negotiating her price while her generously-packed bright red vinyl hot pants stuck out into the sidewalk like some giant tomato. And Buffy, so named and costumed due to her resemblance to the actress in that vampire slaying series, was huddled in a poorly-lit doorway giving out a handjob to an appreciatively-grunting john. Just another lovely night in the Greenwood section of Brooklyn.

I was going to roust them both as soon as I closed the twenty yards between myself and the scene but the powerful engine of the Chrysler roared and the car shrieked away in a cloud of smokey rubber. Then, alerted by that noise, the john took off with his stiff package flopping in the breeze. I decided not to pursue the john or to call in an arrest. Both girls were surprised, grateful and unashamed in no particular order. To be frank, I was more concerned about what emergency could have drawn in Supergirl to my beat so I let the whores off with a stern warning which they barely acknowledged and I proceeded on.

A couple of blocks away from the location where I thought that Supergirl might have touched down, I noticed a red glow above some buildings where I was heading. And then it suddenly disappeared. It could have been anything but it drew me on with my curiosity in full bloom.

Two blocks later I was standing at the end of an alley that had construction warning signs posted. That was new since I’d walked by yesterday and I pushed past them to survey the thin alley. Yes, there was a hole dug but I didn’t notice any exposed electrical pipes or water mains that either Con Ed or the water department might have been working on. It wasn’t even that deep of a hole to warrant such overkill type signs. One orange traffic cone protected careless pedestrians from danger.

There were overturned garbage cans strewn about and as I closed in on one, a glint of shiny silver caught my eye in the moonlight. Squatting down I saw it was a lid from a small can with a smudge on its edge. I took my flashlight off my belt and shined it down. The can lid reflected back at me and so did a bright red bloody thumb print. That raised my eyebrows.

“Hmm. It looks fresh, too,” I murmured. Standing up, I swept the alley with the light and saw a locked steel door and a can that had not been overturned. I headed over and shined the light down into the can. Nothing inside looked out of place to my eyes except for a cloth that was pressed up against the inside wall of the trash can. I reached in and pulled it out. It was a perfectly good small chamois towel like one would use to wax a car; clean as a whistle except for a little scab of green, possibly paint. It certainly wasn’t trash. It felt suspicious to me, like it’d been used to protect something but other than that I was stumped.

I dropped the chamois back in the garbage can and swept the flashlight around the alley some more, suddenly spotting an odd shadow on the brick wall across the way. Walking over to it, I saw a rounded depression in the red brick right down to the cracked white cement back wall. It looked like a miniature wrecking ball had smacked into the wall and that made no sense at all. I took a knee and shined the flashlight on the ground. There was red dust on the street obviously from the brick but it had been disturbed by fresh scuff lines pulled through it and what looked like a smooth footprint, pointed and small enough to be a woman’s.

What the hell had gone on here? Could that footprint possibly have been Supergirl’s? It seemed preposterous but looking up at the head-sized depression in the brick wall I got a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Standing up, I shook my head and looked around in concern, tucking away my flashlight and pulling out my hard wooden baton. I went over to the steel door and rapped on it hard, the clanging sound echoing off the narrow alley walls.

“Open up,” I shouted. “Police!”

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We had plenty of cameras set up inside the rented warehouse Menace had leased for a month. Just like the four cameras outside, the dozen inside ones were also geared to track Supergirl’s movements with software that keyed in on her unique heat signature. Between the three of us, there was no mistaking her biorhythmic fingerprint I was told. With all of those cameras feeding directly to a huge hard drive via wireless technology, Supergirl’s defeat was going to go down in history. It would be carefully edited and then delivered worldwide to news outlets, websites and everyone else with a passing interest in seeing Supergirl’s complete humiliation.

To make sure that the audience would stay glued to their screens, we prepared her for a round of sexual humiliation that would cripple her ability to remain a superheroine. The PleZZure we’d injected into her would be the key to knocking out any moral legs she might try to stand on. She’d be seen as a very eager participant in a variety of sexual acts and not some poor victim. I sure liked the sound of that!

But before the alien bitch took on her role of Super Slut, Menace had decided to start with an up-front scene of shock and awe, sexually speaking. Supergirl was going to be shown as a helpless pawn at first and then we’d fire up her libido and the fun would begin. The shock and awe part involved using customized sex toys to violate the blonde’s mouth and twat while she was helpless to prevent it.

I started by opening the canvas bag and pulling out a titanium leg spreader bar that Menace had specially constructed for the occasion. Although Kate felt that the alien bitch would be too weak to bend even a reinforced aluminum bar by the time we would be strapping it around her ankles, she didn’t want to take any chances and it only cost a few extra grand for the titanium version. With the unconscious blonde bitch laid out cold on the concrete warehouse floor before me thanks to that kryptonite crowbar anaesthetic I’d given her, it was a simple matter of lifting each leg into my lap and connecting the titanium ankle cuff around her shiny red boot. The solid click as each cuff locked tightly into place did my heart good. And the view of Supergirl’s crotch so openly exposed with her legs splayed apart by a good three feet did my dick some good. With the tight shiny fabric of those red panties so nicely dimpled into that pussy of hers, I was so lost in a daydream of fucking her silly with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit, I had to be pushed out of the way by Kate.

“Move aside, you big jerk, I’ve got work to do here,” she complained. “This isn’t a pleasure cruise, you know. We’re on the clock.”

“It will be though,” I grinned, continuing to admire the shiny camel toe before me.

“Shut it, Malo. I’ve got to get these toys plugged into our pretty little payday here.”

She knelt down beside the unconscious babe and leaned forward with the specially-designed ball-gag and pussy-stopper she’d modified for the hit. Both sex toys had a Defilers’ Club emblem attached, highlighting the fact that Supergirl was now nothing less than the helpless property of a band of anonymous men and women who were capable of taking down the strongest female on the planet on a whim.

The logo featured two interlocking letters, a D and a C in the Times Roman font. They were a bright royal purple set against a yellow background inside a hexagon with a royal purple border. The logo was just as striking as Supergirl’s own S shield in its way and it was meant to be unmistakable from a distance. It would be used from here on out, I was told, to caution future superheroines to stay clear of designated properties under threat of severe retaliation by the Defilers’ Club. Supergirl was meant to be the first victim and a cautionary tale.

After laying the pussy-stopper on the floor beside Supergirl’s hip, Menace forced her fingers into the heroine’s mouth. She easily pried those pearly whites apart and fitted in a hard rubber ball behind the teeth into that gaping maw, then buckled the wide leather harness behind her head. There was no reaction from the teen. In addition to my crowbar to her head, that second dose of horse tranquilizer was now circulating through her body. She was completely out of it for the moment.

Next, Menace reached down with both hands between Supergirl’s spreadeagled legs, pushed up the shiny short skirt draped against her thighs and pulled down her panties. Though her legs were spread wide, the polymer panties’ stretch factor was a credit to whoever made them. The stretch lines were significant but the panties didn’t tear apart.

And there was that teenage snatch, lightly shielded by wispy curls of golden blonde hair with thin sealed pussy lips the color of pink rose petals. I guessed they were just as soft.

Apparently Menace was far less enraptured by the girl’s cunt because she wasted no time fitting the tiny rectangular end of the pussy-stopper right in-between those delicate labia minora of hers. It didn’t go inside the heroine’s snatch and it wasn’t meant to. It was simply held in place by her lower lips to advertise just how vulnerable her body was to our mistreatment.

To make that message even clearer, Menace pushed up Supergirl’s top with a quick shove, revealing the teenage heroine’s very appealing set of melons. Turns out the cute little nipples matched the color of her pussy lips spot on. Of course the curtains matched the drapes, too, if you get my drift. She was a vision of beauty badly ravaged. And the cameras recorded it all as the famous Maid of Steel slowly regained consciousness.

Her head rolled a bit from side to side, the eyelids flickered open and the eyes tried to focus. The drugs though prevented the famous blonde from gathering her wits together and she moaned heavily, lying there on her back like some dumb up-ended turtle.


She must have realized her mouth was gagged and said no more. She made a clumsy effort to raise herself up with a sit-up but only got a few inches off the floor with her upper torso before getting dizzy and thumping back down, knocking her head against the cement for her effort. More moaning followed as the cameras recorded her impotence.

The supposedly all-powerful Supergirl lay on that cement floor completely exposed. Her legs were held wide apart by the titanium spreader bar, it’s cuffs welded to the three-foot length. She twisted and turned her ankles trying to get loose but she was shit out of luck on that score! The panties, pulled down to mid-thigh, didn’t block the view of Supergirl’s pussy at all. If anything they emphasized just how helpless she was. The 2-inch-wide hexagonal emblem on the pussy stopper held in that heavenly cunt still allowed a glimpse of the teenager’s pussy lips. They were holding that stopper’s little black plastic rectangle nice and tight within her defenseless twat.

With her wrists securely cuffed behind her back, the lame-ass writhing of the blonde super-stooge only reinforced how pathetic she was. That was confirmed by the stupid expression on her badly-beaten face. The fat purpled eyelid of her right eye twitched, nearly sealed shut. Her left eye was open though and that iris drifted around, cut off any moorings of sensibility. The heroine’s split lips, both upper and lower, sealed helplessly around a ball-gag. They gleamed with her own dripping drool and a trickle of blood. Her shifting, struggling body suddenly jerked with some sort of autonomic desperation which gave those naked breasts a good hard shake. They wobbled to and fro for the camera very nicely.

Menace lifted Supergirl’s head by her hair, turned the neck a bit and directed the champion’s battered face right at a nearby wall camera that was zooming in for a close-up. She pointed her finger straight at the purple and yellow emblem centered in the middle of that face and taunted loudly, “See that emblem, people? That is the marque of the Defilers’ Club. Get used to it. They’re the people who hired me to take down this sorry excuse for a hero. They’re the new law in town. They’re setting the rules. They’re the ones who will make millions in extra profit with no Supergirl to deal with. She’s going to be thrown out of the hero business like a stinking month-old bag of garbage. No more drug shipments stopped. No more bank heists interrupted. Blondie here won’t be doing shit to prevent anything like that from now on. That’s just the way it is now.”

Menace pulled on Supergirl’s hair and shook her dazed face at the camera. The mess there was a clear indication of how badly the teen had been roughed up but the fact that her head was shaken hard enough to send the line of drool stringing down from her ball-gagged mouth flying right into the lens made a statement of the heroine’s condition that was unmistakable.

“Anyone who comes up against the Defilers’ Club, well, they’re going to end up looking just like this battered bitch! So take a good hard view of this pitiful loser, people. This used to be the girl from the stars who you put all your trust in to save you and protect you.” Menace held her hair in one hand and grabbed her cape in her other fist and hoisted the teenager’s limp form to her knees and gave her another hard shake for the camera, letting her bare titties sway back and forth.

“This was the mighty champion who stood between you and a harsh world? Doesn’t look all that powerful now, does she, folks? In fact, let’s see if she even stand up at all...for herself or for you good people who think she’s the paragon of power. Come on up, girlie, let’s get you to your feet and show the people how well you can protect yourself....or them.”

Motioning to me while she got on Supergirl’s left side, I got on her right and we lifted the heroine to her feet as she moaned her way to greater consciousness. We steadied her there with her legs spread apart by three feet of titanium for a minute. Menace uncuffed her and then stepped off to each side.

The dazed blonde heroine swayed in place with her hair a tangled mess, her eyes barely open, her arms dangling limp at her sides, and her naked tits dangling loose below her scrunched-up blue top. The purple and yellow pussy-stopper trembled in her snatch as her knees turned in while she struggled to remain upright. Her bruised mouth, stuffed with a ball-gag emblazoned with the bright purple and yellow Defilers’ Club emblem, worked helplessly in a guttural moan as a stream of drool dripped onto her crumpled up kryptonian emblem of hope.

“Come on, Supergirl, show us all what you got. Give the people a demonstration of your can-do attitude,” Menace prompted the wavering teen.

“....ohn....feee ...ood.....”

“What? You don’t feel good? Well, fight through it, bitch! Show some grit for fuck sake! Come on, hero, take me on. I’m standing right here. Take your best shot.”

The pathetic swing of Supergirl’s lazy left arm didn’t even get within three feet of Menace’s face. My partner stepped back easily out of range and the heavily-drugged blonde bimbo overcompensated badly for her lost balance due to the leg spreader bar. She fell forward onto her knees and then down to rubbery arms that were too weak to hold her. Her face smacked hard against the concrete floor and the world-renowned heroine grunted like a pig and then laid motionless. After several seconds, a soft mewling whimper eased out of her gagged mouth and a puddle of drool began to form on the floor.

“Well, that was embarrassing! But thank you, Supergirl, for showing the world that you’re nothing more than a colossal fuck-up. I mean, look at her. This is the mightiest female on the planet? Please! When push came to shove, this feebleminded failure was all too easily dragged off her pedestal by her own hubris and by a group of people who finally decided it was past time to put the great Maid of Steel in her rightful place. The gutter!!”

Menace pulled her foot back and kicked the prone girl hard in the ribs with her sneaker, drawing a harsh squawk and a jerk of her body. I could see Kate really enjoyed giving Supergirl that shot to her side.

“And Gutter Girl here, well, she’s about to demonstrate that she’s not just an incompetent heroine, she’s also going prove she’s a total skank. Aren’t you, tramp?”

When the heroine mumbled a weak-sounding “Nnuh...nuhh...” through her ball gag, Kate squatted down beside the prone blonde and pulled on her earlobe as she spoke into the bent cartilage. “What? You don’t think so, princess? You think you won’t put out like a common street whore? Don’t be so sure about that, alien. You’re in for a surprise. And you folks out there, just keep watching. You’re about to see your precious heroine role model perform sexual favors with her mouth, hands and pussy that would make a vice cop blush!”

And so, having said that, my partner Menace and I started the next phase of Supergirl’s defeat: her unconditional, undeniable, unrelenting sexual disgrace. I was hard as a rock just thinking about what was to follow.

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My hit on Supergirl was proceeding perfectly! Now that the inept blonde had shown herself to be a bumbling half-wit as the people’s mighty defender, it was time to pour acid on that reputation of hers as the virtuous princess of purity. If anything, it was past time. The PleZZure that I’d had created for this hit had been circulating in her system for a while now and I didn’t want to get halfway through her debasement only to have the drug’s effects wear off at the ultimate climax of her humiliation. That wouldn’t do at all.

I was squatting beside the dazed bimbo who was lying face down on the cement floor with her cape draped off to the side. With her legs spread wide apart by three feet of titanium and her wrists carefully re-shacked together behind her back, it was simplicity itself to move my left hand past those widely-stretched shiny red panties pulled down to her thighs, spread apart her twat lips and pull out the DC pussy-stopper. She wiggled her hips a bit but not much more. I guess she was glad to have the thing gone. She wasn’t happy with what I did next though

I licked my forefinger and ran it around the outer edges of blondie’s pussy. Even though we’d just told her that she was going to be our sexual playmate, she was too out of it to expect my harsh intrusion I guess. However, when she felt my fingers trace the oval of her snatch, she yelped through her gag and tried to tighten her twat. Thanks to the red sun projectors, those kryptonite-dusted handcuffs and a very thorough beating, alien bitch was way past having a Vag of Steel! Even though she attempted to resist, it was all too easy for me to roam my digit around the inner edges of those curly little lips. It warmed my heart to hear the teen groan in frustration and wriggle in place, her moony little bottom shivering back and forth so cutely as I finger rimmed her little oval with several wet laps around her pussy track.

“Oh, come on, champ, don’t play the reluctant ingenue with me. Just between us girls, we know this feels deliciously good.” Her growling denial through the ball gag attempted to say differently but when I ceaselessly circled her pussy lips, dragging my warm, saliva-slickened fingertips round and round and round with my deft laps of lightly-grazing luxury, her secondary groans told me the PleZZure was starting to work its magic. It was time to go in for the kill.

When I tried to push my fingers into that teenage cooze, however, I bumped up against a surprise. Supergirl still had her hymen! We had a virgin on our hands. What a bonus! I pushed against the membrane with steady pressure and while it flexed inward a bit, it was still too firm to tear. Little Miss Muffet still had her tuffet!

“Well, well, well... Guess who’s pure as the driven snow! Hard to believe in this day and age that a girl your age hasn’t given up her virtue to some behind-the-bleachers Romeo. What’s the matter, S-girl, too puritanical to get it on with your cousin? I’m sure his dick would’ve been hard enough to break this cherry and turn you into a woman.”

With more groaning and wriggling from the somewhat energized blonde on the floor, it was time to put that modicum of energy to better use.

“Malo, hand me the bitch tamer dildo, the clit thingy, and that small pink metal flashlight we packed. I wasn’t sure we’d need them but apparently we do,” I said. From the kit we’d prepared, Malo retrieved the items, came back and slapped the light in my palm like a scrub nurse during an operation. The huge, flexible, flesh-colored dildo and clit toy he laid on the floor beside the teen’s hips.

“Okay, let’s just take care of this one little impediment and bring Supergirl into full flower, shall we? Hold her down tightly, my friend. She’s not going to want first.”

I shined the flashlight directly on the pussy while Malo kneeled at Supergirl’s head and pressed one broad hand across her shoulders while his other pinned her face to the cement. Even with the horse tranq, the alien fought against him, grunting and groaning through the ball gag as she tried to twist her body and squirm away.

“She’s a tiger,” declared Malo whose forearm muscles flexed and shifted as he held the blonde in place with just a bit of extra effort on his part. While he did that, I switched positions and circled around to behind the blonde. That done, I knelt down, putting both of my knees on the floor while my calves held down the titanium bar thus pinning Supergirl’s legs to the floor. It wasn’t very comfortable for me but I bore the discomfort gamely. I turned on the flashlight and put it in my mouth, then eased down lower and pulled Supergirl’s butt cheeks apart exposing both her orifices to not just my eyes but to all the cameras in the room with a vantage point. I pointed the flashlight in my mouth directly at the heroine’s pussy, keeping the tiny red cone of red sun light trained right on it, and compensating easily for every little twist and shift she attempted.

Supergirl grunted and whined and whimpered and even pleaded through the gag but neither Malo nor I gave way as the red waves bathed that twat into submission. It was only three minutes but it was enough by my calculation. Next up, juicing the entry.

I spit out the flashlight onto the floor, took my left hand off the teen’s warm left butt cheek and grabbed the clit toy, an item called the Womanizer which I’d adapted to apply not just air pressure stimulation but electrical and tactile vibration as well. That pussy’s pussy didn’t have a prayer!

I lifted her clit’s hood with the fingers of one hand and holding the Womanizer in my other hand, carefully fit the soft silicone tip over Supergirl’s little pink nub, surrounding it completely. Then I pressed the air pressure “On” switch on the handheld device and, as promised in the accompanying manual, the tool’s suction pulled the little nub tight into that white cylinder of joy. Now it was thoroughly trapped and surrounded by sonic vibrations that jerked Supergirl’s hips up and down while yanking a surprised groan out of her gagged mouth.

Using my middle finger, I turned on the electrical/tactile vibration switch, setting the silicone tip in rapid motion. It now surrounded the encapsulated nub with a mix of sonic pressure waves, electrical pulses and hundreds of shivering contact vibrations per second that quite obviously shook the teenage heroine to her core.

Her entire pelvis bucked up and down and a plaintive cry of helpless delight blurted out of the lady. My calves barely held the titanium rod down but they did and Supergirl began to whimper and her ankles yanked and twisted and pulled as her body was overtaken by waves of pleasure she’d never had to face before in her life.

And then I turned the intensity dial up two notches and the Maid of Steel gave a keening wail of delight. Those bare butt cheeks shook so fiercely my eyes couldn’t track their blur. She was panting hard now, her raw breaths whistling past the ball gag as I looked up to watch her eyes cloud up with unfathomable pleasure. She was being pushed past points of ecstacy she’d never felt before as well as new frontiers of sensitivity by our specialized sex tools and the PleZZure fizzing like Pop Rocks in her bloodstream.

I turned up the Womanizer to 6, it’s top level and the groan that escaped the prone beauty under my control was music to my ears. Fact is, I got wet myself just hearing what she was feeling between those quaking thighs of hers. I wasn’t nearly as wet as she was, though. Her pussy was leaving juicy skid marks on the smooth concrete floor. In fact I think she was trying to hump it. She appeared ready for the next phase: the bitch tamer. I pulled the Womanizer off her clit and set it down, then picked up the heavy foot-long fleshy dong toy and rested it’s bulbous head against her damp oval down there, just letting her feel the weight of the tool.

“This dildo has no kryptonite in it or on it whatsoever, Supergirl, but it’s really not necessary, is it? You want me to put this dildo into you, don’t you. You want to feel its girth fill you completely, isn’t that so? You need this bad boy to press deep into your pussy and let the friction make you weep and shiver with joy, right, champ?”


“Uh uhh, missy, no lying to the principal. You and I both know that you want to see what all the fuss is about intercourse. Your body’s all prepped and ready. You’re cunt is slick and wet and just begging to be boned. Just give me the a-ok and we’ll light this candle and head for the moon!”

“....n...ohhh...nohhh...” the heroine pleaded, her bulging ball-gagged cheek pressed to the cement by Malo’s heavy hand, the purple and yellow DC hexagon gleaming in the light, her eyes wild, her naked chest heaving.

I wanted this damn debutante from the heavens to willingly give up her chastity for the cameras so I teased her even more by rubbing the smooth head of the bitch tamer all around that juicy opening of hers, pressing it up against her maidenhead and letting the big mushroom tip do my talking for me. I worked it against her, rotating the tip to grind out gasping groans from the increasingly desperate girl before me.


“Come on, sweetheart. Ask me to push it in. You know it’s time.”


“I think yes.”


“Ask Menace for it... Everyone knows you want to... Say pretty please...Supergirl.”

“...NOHH! I...On’t....!”

“Won’t? Really? We’ll see about that. Malo, go to town on her tits! I’m going back to the Womanizer!”

My big Hispanic helper didn’t need to be told twice. He hoisted up Supergirl by her cape until she was on her knees and then let her dangle there with her head hung low as he mauled her naked breasts. His big hands squeezed, rubbed, nipple-teased and hefted heroine tit to his heart’s delight. For her part, Supergirl groaned and drooled long strings of silver onto the floor. Then I went to work on her.

With my calves still pinning the titanium bar to the floor, I switched tools. Pulling that pert little butt wide apart, I leaned in, carefully capped alien bitch’s clit within the Womanizer’s soft silicone prison then pushed the tool into high gear, level 3, with sonic, tactile and electric modes all engaged.


Oh, the lady liked that! She twisted and writhed and jerked and moaned in rapid succession, her body exuding sweat and need. With the clit sucked into the tip by the vacuum power of the hand-held sex toy I was free to release her butt cheek. I reached my hand around the heroine’s waist and pressed my palm flat against her pelvis, holding her in place as the clit clinger reduced the blonde to a shivering, whimpering, dripping mess.

I brought the mighty Maid of Steel to near orgasm three separate times and then stopped the Womanizer cold. I needed to hear the words. The world needed to hear the words!

There was a slippery puddle forming between Supergirl’s knees of every fluid her body could produce. I could feel all her resolve draining out of her just like those bodily fluids. The sex toy and the PleZZure had done their jobs. She was on the edge of absolute lust judging by the grunts, the quivering thighs and the plaintive moans of trying to hold back a dam with far too many cracks. I shut off the toy for the fourth time and asked my question.

“So, Supergirl, you want me push the dildo inside you now, don’t you?”


“But you will allow it, won’t you?”


“Ask me to shove it in.”


“Ask me to shove it in. Malo, the gag, take it off.”



He did so.

“Say it, Supergirl. Say ‘please shove it in me’ now!”.

“I...can’t...” she heaved, weeping.

I turned on the Womanizer yet again and the blonde sagging before me arched her back and cried out.

“Whooaaaahhh! Yaaaghhh! Aaiiieeeee!”

She shook like a palsy patient and I let the toy run for 15 seconds as Supergirl squealed and gasped. Malo mauled her boobs and I pressed my hand on her pelvis and then I turned the sex toy off. The demure little girl grunted like a bull moose in frustration.

“You know what I want to hear. Say it!”

“Okay! Yes, yes, please shove it in me now! Shove it in...shove it in...shove it in... shove!...” Supergirl had caved and the cameras caught it. And that wouldn’t be even close to the best of it before the night was over!

I pulled the silent Womanizer off her clit, picked up the huge dildo, fitted its head against Supergirl’s treasured pussy and jammed it home...hard.


Supergirl was a virgin no more. She moaned just once from the pain, but then, impaled by lust, she wriggled in place and then sighed long and hard. A tiny trickle of red-tinged cum drained out from between the girl’s thighs.

And then, once she’d given up that ghost of her virtue, her inner slut let loose. Pent up desires spurred on by the PleZZure, our toys and our fondling finally found their full voice in that girl’s remarkably lithe and willing body. She ground her bottom against that massive rubber dong like a whore possessed. She twisted, she turned, she flexed, she gasped. She savored every single inch of that flexible fleshy rod as I pushed and pulled it back and forth within her velvety vag.

“..ohh..hohh...ohhh...yes...yes...dear Rao...Yes...YES!!”

She impaled herself on that dildo with absolute body-gyrating lust, grinding away at her precious reputation with full-throated moans of pleasure.

“Say, I think you can get another inch up in there, champ,” I said helpfully.

I’ll be damned if she didn’t bear down on that tool and worked it out, her face aglow with delight as her tongue flopped out over her lower lip, her eyes rolled up slightly and she shuddered with a sigh of success.


“Oh no. Thank you, Supergirl.”

Then I increased my pace, thrusting the tool firmly. So did the blonde. Her body bounced up and down on her knees as Malo squeezed her sweat-slick tits. Her neck arched and she licked her lips and groaned and moaned and wept and wailed. She’d never felt dick before inside her and she was transported. I probably could have just held the dildo in place and Gidget from Another Galaxy would have done all of the work for me of bringing herself to a climax. But I was having my own fun, yanking that tool three-quarters of the way out and then thrusting it back in over and over and over. I could imagine why men were such horn dogs. I wasn’t even feeling the sensations within this fake dick and I was getting off on feeling the vibrations through the base of that rubber dong.

And then the girl put herself in hyper-drive and finally I did just hold the fat rubber rod still watching as the Maid of Steel raised herself up and let gravity drop her crotch down hard on that pole over and over and over. The space echoed with her harsh grunts, flexing knees popping and tits bouncing up and down so hard they were clapping against her chin like it was fist against speed bag. That famous emblem of hers? It was scrunched up into a folded roll above those naked tits and it was soaking wet with her drool. The chaste young virgin was gone for good.

I noted that the PleZZure was building her energy but I was pleased that she was putting every bit of it into bringing herself off, just like I’d planned.

Supergirl continuously humped and humped and humped that tool with wild abandon, her head rocking on her neck with every grunting drop of her pelvis. Then, when the tip was probably jammed hard against her cervix, she stopped, froze in place and made the “O” face of all time. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes clamped shut, and she let out a groan that came from the core of the earth itself. Her chest sagged forward, her neck arched and she shivered like a little whizzing puppy.


Her juices drained over the length of the dildo onto my fist and the moaning blonde, her chest heaving up and down, wavered limp and spent in Malo’s firm grasp of her stretched-out cape. Her handcuffed wrists just twitched quietly behind her back with a tinkling of tiny chains.


“That sounded fun,” I smirked. “Want another?” I smeared the tiny puddle of her cum in my palm on her naked chest and rubbed it around as Supergirl moaned.

“...huh? soon...i...i....well....y...yes........please....”

“Look at you, so polite. Okay I’ll give you another but first I need you to do something for me.”

“...pleasure you with my mouth...?” She turned her head and glanced back toward me. Her dusky bedroom eyes looked more than willing.

“Well, aren’t you eager to please! But no, not me.....yet. Him,” I said, nodding at the huge Malo who was eagerly unzipping his pants with his free hand. Supergirl turned her head back, looked up at the man holding her up by her cape and saw the size of his junk as it flopped out. She reared back in a near swoon.

“” she said. Malo told me later that her eyes went wide with shock and, he noticed, more than a touch of lust.

I removed her handcuffs and she brought her arms around to her front, massaging her wrists. It was a bit of a gamble but I was pretty confident that I’d gauged our girl correctly from her power levels to her passion.

“Why don’t you just start with the tip and see how far you can go from there. Heck, you’re Supergirl, you’re used to over-performing,” I sneered. And I have to give the girl credit, for a virgin and a superheroine, she was remarkably willing to give it her best effort. The PleZZure surging through her system and the brave new world of orgasms had seen to that.

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There was no answer to my rap on the steel door although I banged it hard with my nightstick for a good minute. With no window in sight on this face of the building, I walked out of the alley and around the corner to see if there was any kind of sign or name on the front that faced the main street. There was just the number 63 painted in white on a truck-sized steel shutter sealing the entrance shut. The number on the building beside it was 65.

I called in the address on my radio and waited for them to look it up. Some detective in my station house squawked on the radio about ten minutes later while I was circling the block looking for any possible means of entrance. Every window was at least twenty feet high and they were all boarded up.

“O’Malley, this is Detective Josh Riggins. The owner of that property is a corporation named Gorky Park LLC. Principle owner is another company called Tito Enterprises, the CEO of Tito is a Mrs. Roger Maris. Sounds like a front if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Yeah, that does nothing for me I’m afraid.”

“Got any reasonable cause to enter the premises?”

“Nothing but what my gut says. Nothing I can use to pull a warrant. Besides the only means of entry is inaccessible. Thanks, Riggins. Guess I’ll have to move on.”

“Roger that, O’Malley. Riggins out.”

I looked at the lock on the shuttered garage door. It was a Stanley CD8820 with a shrouded shackle. Whatever was inside this place, the owners weren’t fucking around about protecting it. I grimaced, my gut tightening again with the feeling that something was up. With no better plan, I took out my night stick and began banging on the steel garage shutter. The clanging was hurting my own ears. I was hoping that if someone was inside, they’d be annoyed enough to come out and deal with the racket. This was an industrial section of Greenwood; there was nobody yelling out any windows at me so I kept hammering for three minutes. When that yielding nothing at all, I decided to get creative.

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So, there she was on her hands and knees before me. The one and only Supergirl. I’d let go of her cape and she’d dropped down to the floor, arms straight, palms supporting her and looking up at my junk dangling ten inches from her broken nose. Her face was a mess from our beating and not close to the magazine cover beauty she usually was. But the bruises were a bit of a turn-on. Plus her bare tits were hanging down, her panties were pulled down to her thighs, her ass was hanging out and she looked ready to suck me off. She’d just cum like a banshee But I admit, I was damn nervous. For chrissake, Kate had even taken off the handcuffs!

Sure, that body looked like a wet dream come to life and she seemed horny as hell, but I wasn’t sure she didn’t have some of her super strength left. Hell, even a normal teenage girl has teeth she can use. Plus, I didn’t know how much skill this blonde had giving head. This could be a very rough session! I admit my dick wasn’t exactly standing at attention with all that worrying going through me. It’d been plenty hard with the warmup act but this was the main event and I had a bad case of stage fright. Menace was sitting close behind her, settled back on her haunches with her legs pinning Supergirl’s own legs to the floor by the spreader bar, just watching the alien carefully.

Then Supergirl rose up, stretching herself higher and reaching over to take my dick in her hand. I wasn’t breathing right then, let me tell you. Her palm surrounded my drooping shaft and held it softly, surprisingly so. She then leaned forward and oh so gently gave a slow passing lick around the tip of my penis with her tongue and then withdrew a bit, judging the taste and the sensation. My junk liked the feel of that as well as the stimulation of a female hand gently gripping it and it began to harden. The girl looked into my eyes and we both grinned like fools simultaneously. This could be fun!

Supergirl put her other hand around my shaft and holding it with both hands, leaned in, opened her mouth and took the whole tip of my cock in and sucked at it with some real gusto. Her cheeks pulled in and she apparently hadn’t run out of drool because that mouth was wet, warm and willing. Both my hands went to her hair and rested softly around her head as she bobbed it back and forth, taking in the tip at first, over and over, and then, when she’d adjusted to my size, about a third of the shaft.

I groaned and she rubbed her hands in light circles ‘round and ‘round on my shaft as she sucked on the head of my cock. Repeatedly.

“Guulghk....guulghk...guulghk..” Twist, twist, twist. “Guulghk...guulghk...guulghk...”

Every camera in the place caught the scene of the famous Supergirl on her knees in full uniform eagerly working on a cock...and it was mine she was shining to a gleaming polish with that marvelous maw of hers.

“Guulghk....guulghk...guulghk..” Twist, twist, twist. “Guulghk...guulghk...guulghk...” Back and forth her blonde head pressed forward and retreated, over and over again, swallowing more and more of my prick without me having to encourage her one little bit with my hands on her head. She just went for it: suckling hard, running her palms around and up and down my shaft, lightly gagging herself, moaning with delight and proving herself a world-class cocksucker in the process. Again and again the cameras caught the sight of my shiny shaft appearing and then disappearing into that young eager mouth

“Guulghk....guulghk...guulghk..” Twist, twist, twist. “Guulghk...guulghk...guulghk...”

While she kept on with the sucking, slurping and licking and rubbing up and down my now steel-hard prick, one of Supergirl’s hands moved from my shaft to my balls and she fingered them eagerly and with an incredibly deft touch, grazing them, tickling them, cupping them. How was this possible? She must have done this before. Even Menace noticed the professional technique.

“Damn, girl, this can’t be your first rodeo!” Kate wasn’t easily surprised but she was clearly floored at the proceedings.

“Yeth it ith,” the heroine answered while professionally keeping the client satisfied...and herself. The camera zooming in on her pussy caught the scene of it dripping fresh cum down her thighs from her obvious excitement. The teenage champion was clearly getting off on all this oral stimulation.

In fact, with the fantastic way this sex show was starting, Supergirl’s career was heading right into the dumper. This enthusiastic performance of unfettered fellatio was going to be seen worldwide and it sure wouldn’t play well with people in power. And as for all the little girls who looked up to this champion as the ultimate role model? As a parent, try to imagine how well you can spin a blowjob into something heroic to the mind of an eight-year old. It can’t be done.

But Supergirl wasn’t paying attention to just how radically she was changing the world’s perception of her ethics (sucking off a minor henchman. Total no-no.). Instead, she was paying rapt attention to her own needs and to my cock.

“Guulghk....guulghk...guulghk..” Twist, twist, twist. “Guulghk...guulghk...guulghk...” “But how can you be this...well...good?” Menace persisted.

“I whed up on it. Weally not that hawd to Google it. Now pweeth be qwiet...I wanna conthentwate..he’th about to bwoah heah.”

“Guulghk...guulghk..” Twist, twist, cup and tickle, cup and tickle..”Guulghk..guulghk..”

I was a dead duck. She was far too good, far too committed to her task, far too beautiful on her knees right there in her clingy costume taking my full shaft into her mouth and pressing her nose into my crotch, swallowing everything and just holding it there for eternity. My vision went white, my body went rigid and I blew it all, gripping her head and letting go with everything I had, from the soles of my feet to the depth of my balls. I hosed her with enough jism to fill a milk carton. At least it felt like that.

This was a part of the sex act she couldn’t glean from books or the Internet, however, and she didn’t handle it all that well. Held in place by my hands gripping her head, she swallowed a good amount of my hot batch to be sure, but all the cameras caught the moment when she also blew cum out her nose, sprayed it out of the side of her mouth and even had some splatter over her lower lip onto that red and yellow symbol of hope on her blouse. And when I did release my hands, she gagged violently as she disgorged my cock. That was followed immediately by a heavy stream of semen that flowed out of her mouth like white lava down her chin and spilling onto that famous S symbol, soiled yet again by her sexual disgrace.

There she swayed, the mighty heroine once capable of lifting troop carriers out of the ocean, now on her knees with her eyes fluttering with dazed pleasure as her mouth drained out my sticky-thick passion puree. A heavy white glob of it trailed down her cleavage and came to rest in her belly button.

I staggered back two steps, wavering on shaky legs with my head swimming, barely able to stand. I watched Supergirl and hoped she wasn’t going to stand up and beat me to a pulp. But I have to be honest, here, it might have been worth it for all she’d just done for me.

She blinked twice, caught her breath and then sighed, “Not too bad.” She scooped her belly button and put the dollop into her mouth, sucking her forefinger clean. “Tastes better than I expected.”

Right then, it was obvious to me that the sales of PleZZure were going to be a world-wide phenomenon topping billions of dollars. Supergirl’s moral compass had spun completely out of control. She had just become the poster girl for a new-age drug that would sweep the planet. If it could turn this paragon of purity into a cum-sucking slut, just imagine what it could do for your girlfriend!

“Can someone please fuck me now?” The Maid of Steel asked with raw frustration.

“Oooh, oooh! Me, that’s me,” Menace squealed with girlish delight. “I’m next.”

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I figured if Supergirl had so willingly given out a blowjob and was pleading to be fucked, I could safely unshackle the titanium legs spreader from her ankles, so I did. That’s not to say I was completely sold on her acquiescence to my employers’ demands. In fact, I posed the question to her again, taking a reading of where she stood on giving up her role as a heroine. Her answer was forthright and unequivocal.

“Rao, I need a penis stuffed in my pussy RIGHT NOW!! I can’t think about that!”

“Fair enough. Let’s do it then,” I relented. I quickly stripped off my capri running pants and then inserted my end of the double-ended dildo, adjusting the strap-on so that I could feel all the sensations that the hard rubber tool would provide. Believe me, it wasn’t hard to slide that rod inside my cooze. I was as wet as a sponge mop on the deck of the Titanic. Supergirl laid on her back on the cold cement floor and lifted her legs apart, eagerly allowing me access. It wasn’t difficult to slide her side of the double-ended dildo up her vag either. She was as mushy as I was down there. The big dildo she’d entertained earlier had stretched her virgin twat muscles enough to make it a simple matter for me to drive the rubber dick home with a pleasing thump.

“Ooohhhh...that’s nice,” said the compliant teen who rocked her pelvis forward a bit, savoring the sensation of her penetration.

“Only the best for you, Supergirl,” I declared and then began to withdraw and thrust the tool forward in a steady back and forth rhythm. At the same time, I began sucking at her little pink nipples and fingered her clit. I was determined and relentless and the prim little blonde gave it back in spades: groping my ass, thrusting her pelvis forward and French kissing me as to swallow my tongue. When she stopped that, she slobbered up my nips through my running shirt, leaving wide damp circles on my chest.

In just a few minutes, both of us were groaning with joy as each end of the marvelous toy reached its apex at the very depths of our pussies. We became a ‘sisterhood of the traveling twats,’ banging our muffs together and retreating over and over for a good three minutes until our panting became short, loud and imploring. The licking and sucking and humping reached a crescendo.


“...holy rao ...that’s...that’”

“ brushing cervix...t..t..tooo..good....” I whimpered.

“’m going to.....”



The two of us creamed our cunts simultaneously. I laid on top of Supergirl and our orgasmic juices mingled together in a puddle beneath her twitching hips. We sighed there entwined, my arms around her waist, linked in lust with our bushes bumping together, our short and curlies entangled with sweat. Her naked tits rose and fell while mine stretched out my pink UnderArmour top with heaving gasps.

A minute after that, Malo knelt down and bent low to speak into the panting blonde’s ear, “How’d you like to be butt-fucked, hero?”

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I was under the street crawling through a pitch-black four-foot high storm pipe in the dark on my hands and knees. My flashlight tucked between my jaw and shoulder cut through the gloom ahead. Thankfully I hadn’t run into any vermin yet.

I was headed toward the boarded up warehouse and wondering whether my sanity had fled. But when I thought about Supergirl and what might be happening to her, I pressed on grimly. Then I came to steel barrier of crisscrossed iron rods embedded in the pipe walls designed to strain out debris. And, apparently, policemen.

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“Really? You’d do that for me?” The blonde’s one good blue eye was wide with horny speculation and her other closed purple one twitched noticeably. Exactly like I had planned, the PleZZure had completely destroyed this heroine’s sense of right and wrong. Supergirl had, for all intent and purposes, left the building. SuperSlut was in charge now.

I pulled out of Supergirl’s pussy with a sloppy sucking noise and then Malo helped us both to our feet.

“Why don’t you pull off those soiled things, champ, and slip this g-string on,” Malo said, indicating the panties still stretched around Supergirl’s thighs, now dripping our cum sprays in pattering drops on the cement floor. From his forefinger hung a triangle of red and yellow satin and what looked like a tangle of red ribbon. Supergirl hesitated, a blip on her moral radar.

“What’s the hold up?” I asked. “You think you’re too good to wear a stripper’s g-string. I heard you gave a hard-working girl grief a few weeks back just because she was working a pole and collecting cash in her crotch.” Supergirl’s head twitched at this and she gave me a puzzled glance. “Yeah, I heard how you came off all high and mighty, Polly Pure. But with all you’ve done here today, I’d say that’s pretty damn hypocritical, bitch. Put on the g-string or you get no anal and we start working you over again with the crowbar.”

She shook her head with a frown. “You don’t have to come down so hard on me. I was gonna do it,” she groused as she bent over and pulled down the slick red polymer panties and stepped out of them. Then she took the g-string from Malo and put it on, pulling it tight against her crotch, untwisting the long, thin elasticized straps riding high on her hips and smoothing out the silken triangle between her thighs.

“Feels odd,” she frowned.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re used to those wide-load panties you wear. Turn around,” Malo said, guiding her shoulder with his left hand. She circled in place and from behind I saw the gorgeous view of Supergirl’s beautiful smoothly-rounded butt cheeks split down the center by a thin strip of red silk that hid her anus but rode tightly between her pussy lips, snugly held by the wide folds of firm young teenage twat. When she finished her spin, Malo whistled in appreciation of the fantastic view. “Gosh, I do believe you’re oozing some of your honey onto that little red strip of silk, champ. Shall I lick it off for you?”

“Gee, would you?” The blonde tramp actually tilted forward a bit, toward me and away from Malo, spreading her butt cheeks with her hands to give him access. He trailed his forefinger down that narrow red silk stripe and apparently nudged the stripe deeper into her cleft because she quivered and sighed as he gathered in a droplet of her sweet cum and then put it in his mouth.

“Ambrosia,” he grinned.

“When you said you’d lick it off, I thought you meant with your tongue: long and slow,” cooed the world famous champion of justice with a lewd smirk.

“Menace, I believe our randy little sex toy here is ready to be double-teamed.”

“Oooh! I like the sound of that better,” Supergirl gushed as Malo put one hand around her neck and held her in place while he worked his stiff cock out of his pants. Since I already had the dildo plugged in me and ready to go, I just had to step closer to the sex-crazed teen and aim her end of the doubled-ended dildo at her eager slit.

I held her butt cheek while Malo held his palm against her pelvis. I slid the dildo into Supergirl’s slippery vag easily as she helped guide me in with a willing hand. After I was in, I went to work squeezing her tits with both of my hands. She helped out Malo enter her rear. Obviously that took some doing. Supergirl taking it up the ass? Definitely virgin territory there! But the blonde was a real trouper about it and pulled her cheeks wide, stretching her balloon knot while relaxing it. My partner used one hand to pull aside the silken g-string strap blocking the hole and then guided in his hefty shaft a few inches and then drew out. Gradually, he loosened her up with the head of his dick. He swivelled his pelvis, rocked back and forth and then drove in with purpose.

“Ghuu..HUUGHHH!” The blonde jerked in our grasps, sandwiched between us, impaled and happy. The mighty Maid of Steel turned into Foam Rubber Lass between us, a pliantly bendable, easily manipulated, cushy soft and squeezable love doll who gave us unrestricted use of her flawless body. I fondled her knockers, licked her pretty pink nipples and inhaled the scent of her neck at her hairline while Malo plied her ass with strong hands and his thrusting prick. She moaned and sighed and rocked between us, taking each thrust and savoring it with throaty approval. Our pussies bumped again and again while Malo held on and plowed her rear.

“You know what? I just realized ...uugghhnn... everyone makes a huge mistake when ... uugghhnn... dealing .with you, Supergirl,” I declared between hard thrusts. “They treat you with ... uugghhnn... way too much respect, bitch. Clearly you don’t ...uugghhnn... deserve it.”

“...Ooooohhhh...ohhh...d..doh...don’!...” she whimpered.

“Yup! Way too much...UUGGHHNN... respect,” I said, jamming her end of the double dildo back up inside her as requested.

From behind, Malo’s slow, relentless plowing of the teen’s rear end concurred.

Supergirl’s head simply rolled on her neck in a sluggish circle as she smiled in mindless pleasure. Her moaning, drooling reaction to the double penetration was all the agreement that anyone watching the scene would have needed for confirmation. There was nothing much left to admire or respect about this heroine. The second phase of the hit, Supergirl’s sexual humiliation was just about done.

And then I heard someone banging on the steel shutters to the garage.

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Honestly, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Driving the length of my tool up Supergirl’s virgin butt? Does it get better than that? Not in my experience it hasn’t. She was tight and she was willing, urging me on with cooing noises as she spread her cheeks for me and relaxed her sphincter. I slathered my junk with plenty of juice that was seeping out between those sultry thighs of hers and then worked my way in slow and steady. Forward and back I reamed her rear channel with patience and a stiff pole until she was slippery enough to take me and then I drove my full 9 inches to the hilt inside her, pulling a grunt of approval that was anything but maidenly.

I had just begun stroking in and out of the heroine’s ass with a nice rhythm when the banging started on the garage door. Menace cursed like a dock worker with a broken thumb and immediately pulled out of the blonde beauty and went to investigate, the dildo bobbing as she walked.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

“Just keep plowing her ass. No sense both of us losing out on the fun until I see what’s up,” my partner grumbled as she headed off across the warehouse. Who was I to disagree?

Supergirl bent forward with both hands on her knees and her head turned to the side. She was looking back at me with a frenzied nodding encouragement as she watched me bumping up against her behind, my pelvis repeatedly jerking her skirt up and down with each hefty thrust. She moaned and sighed and cooed and tilted her pelvis up and down again and again in her own rhythm that kept me rock hard. The slick friction of plunging in and out of that heavenly back channel made my head swim and I leaned against her back, grabbed her soft wobbling breasts and held on for dear life as the two of us humped away in unison savoring the divine glory that is sex at its finest.

I groaned and huffed and pushed and yanked and did my damndest to live in the fucking moment of fucking Supergirl in the ass. And she did the same from her end, the drug in her system compelling her to experience the surging pleasure of being sodomized by a prick of princely proportions. Her moaning and grunts of untold satisfaction were as arousing to me as the sensations from my tool. We went on like that for a minute or so and then I got an idea.

My right hand left her breast and moved down to her dripping snatch. I worked my fingers directly to her slippery clit and gently rubbed away. The effect was dramatic. I thought things couldn’t get better but I was dead wrong. The Golden-Haired Guardian of Goodness began grinding and swiveling and rocking her ass against me in a frenzy of motion that dropped my jaw open with breathless pleasure. And then she lowered her head until she was parallel to the floor and began thrusting herself back and forth on my rock hard shaft like a metronome set to max. All I had to do was hold onto that titty and that clit and Supergirl did the rest, bringing us both to a climax. The jerking, pumping, pushing and grunting went to hyperdrive and then it stopped in a heartbeat and the two of us exploded in a symphony of shouts and a rush of fluids that left us shaking in place, both sets of our legs quivering like new-born calves.

Supergirl dropped to the floor on all fours with her forehead pressed against the cool cement. I plopped down onto my ass and just sat there in a stupor watching the famous Maid of Steel’s butthole as it slowly released creamy white trickles of my cum. I heard a camera zoom in on the pulled aside g-string strap and that oozing orifice and just smiled happily. Ultimately, Supergirl flopped down onto her side and lay there sighing and moaning with delight.

“I see you two enjoyed yourselves,” Menace noted enviously when she returned to the tableau of the two of us sprawled on the floor in soporific silence. She then went over and turned the dazed heroine onto her back with a shove of her foot and frowned deeply.

“Oh shit, time to step up our timetable,” my partner blurted. She went directly to the canvas kit bag and pulled out a small steel tank with an attached triangular gas mask.

“Why? Who was that banging?”

“A cop,” Menace replied as she returned to the prone blonde and knelt down. “I had to go up to the second floor and look out the spy hole. He went away but that’s not the problem.”

“No?” I was still a bit satiated after shooting my wad and not fully aware of the alarm in Kate’s voice.

“Look at her face,” Menace said, hoisting the blonde off the floor so I could see from my vantage point. At first I didn’t understand and then I realized that Supergirl’s face was back to her flawless beauty. Her split lip, purple eye and crumpled nose were almost fully healed.

“Uh oh,” I said, scrambling to my feet and dashing over toward the two women. I quickly circled behind Supergirl and pinned her arms behind her back holding her upper torso upright while Menace fitted the clear rubber mask over Supergirl’s nose and mouth, sealing it tightly against her face and holding it there. She opened the tiny valve and a hiss of gas accompanied the swirling green cloud that filled the mask.

The heroine’s eyes snapped to full alertness and she yanked hard to get away but a sudden shot to her gut by my partner had her helplessly inhaling in the smokey green mist until the mask cleared a moment. The Girl of Steel squirmed and jerked and it was all we could do to pin her down and keep that mask tight against her skin.

But then another green swirl took its place and Menace squeezed hard enough on the girl’s boob to draw a gasp and that cloud disappeared up the teen’s nose and through her grimacing lips. That swirling green fog was replaced by another and my boss kept the process up for a full minute, squeezing the boob and jabbing the stomach until more than a dozen tiny green clouds were sucked away. The tenseness in Supergirl’s arms and elbows and shoulders turned into fleshy lassitude, her eyes battled to stay open but that wasn’t going to happen and with a sigh and a final bat of those eyelids, she collapsed back in my arms into quiet unconsciousness with just her bare breasts rising and falling.

“That was a too close for comfort,” Kate grumbled. “Bad timing for me to leave just as the red sun effects wore off. I thought they would have lasted a lot longer. You just can never tell with these aliens. Let’s get her trussed up and hanged. It’s time for the final stage: Supergirl gives the fuck up!”

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Thankfully the bottom and side bolts holding the iron grating in place across the concrete storm pipe were badly rusted. Several sharp kicks did the job and I was able to push the interwoven iron out of the way enough to crawl under and make my way closer to my target, the warehouse at #63 19th Street.

It was damp and cool as I made my way forward but as I recalled, there was no rain predicted for the evening. “Maybe things will work out well after all,” I remember myself saying in the gloom knowing I’d be under the warehouse very shortly. Except for my flashlight beam, it was pitch black in that pipe but it turns out I was blinded by hope.

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I made certain that the noose of the kryptonite-treated rope was nice and tight around alien bitch’s throat. After I pulled down her top so it covered her boobs once more and stripped off the tramp’s short little tease skirt, Malo then went through his rope work on Supergirl’s arms and legs. I double-checked when he was done that he’d secured her wrists hands behind her back in the way we discussed, with the loops circled evenly four times on her lower forearms and anchored to the rope circling her waist. Her calves got equal treatment, circled by four clean green coils around each boot, then run up to her waist bindings and knotted there. With the strength he’d applied to tightening every coil, there was no way the blonde would be able to escape this final trap.

I gave the signal and Malo hoisted on the other end of the rope, drawing it through the pulley and slowly raising the inert form of the blonde Kryptonian. At first just her head came off the floor, then her upper torso, and slowly, with each squeaking yank of the rope through the pulley, Supergirl was pulled up into the air.

She awoke just at the point her form was pulled off the floor and her entire body weight was supported simply by her neck. The sudden alarm had those eyes almost lidless with fear as her head twisted a few inches to the left and then right searching for some sort of hope. But I knew there was none. I also knew that she had enough of her powers that she wouldn’t immediately choke to death. Her neck muscles were strong enough to resist the choking action of the noose even with the kryptonite treated rope. In fact I was counting on it!

Between the movement of her head, her struggles and Malo continuing to hoist her closer to the ceiling, her body started swaying back and forth with her knees pointed at the floor and her eyes forced to face up at the underside of the roof. She calmed herself down at that point and rasped out in a froggy voice.

“Please......don’t do this...”

Malo pulled the unnerved champion to the ten-foot height I wanted and secured the glowing rope to the steel cleat attached to wall with anchor bolts.

“You know what I want to hear, Supergirl. Say it and I’ll let you go immediately,” I replied matter-of-factly as I retrieved the six-foot long kryptonite spike I’d painted several days earlier. I positioned it under the blonde’s suspended body, fitting it into the round base housing embedded in the floor. It secured there with a firm click, the sharpened point aimed at her crotch a mere two feet away. She eyed the huge needle pointing right up at her and began to perspire.

“You can go home and play with your dolls or find some nice young man and raise a family in a house with a picket fence. I really don’t give a rat’s ass what you do as long as I never hear about you stopping a robbery or breaking up a drug shipment or even building a Habitat for Humanity bungalow. You’re out of the superhero business forever. So let me hear it now. Loud and clear: ‘Yes, Menace, you win. I will never play the role of a hero again! I promise.’....Well? Come on, we’re on the clock here, champ. Either this spike will shish kabob your cooze or you’ll choke to death on that noose. Sooner or later, you’re history unless you say the words!”

I watched the heroine writhing in space, not choking but certainly very uncomfortable as she tried twisting her wrists and ankles with utter futility. The bullet-like nipples told me that there might still be a little PleZZure left circulating through the girl’s body. Either that or she might be a real fan of breath play sex games and not be consciously aware of it. I went over to check, reaching up and palming her pussy. It was pretty damp but it was hard to tell if that was fresh oozing or just the result of earlier orgasms. She flinched at my touch and then grimaced and choked a bit with the sudden movement.

“..I...I refuse....” croaked the struggling blonde. “You don’t win, Menace!”

“Oh, we’re not done here yet, Supergirl. I know you think you can hold out and who knows, maybe even get enough of your powers back to blast me with your heat vision or break out of these weak kryptonite ropes. I mean, sure they’re causing a slight weakness but not as much as all that, right?”

Her horrified face spoke volumes. I deduced her plan perfectly and we both knew it. But what the girl with the plastic-clad hooters and the famous S spread across them didn’t know was I had a final little convincer planned to seal the deal. This wasn’t going to be a negotiation. This was going to be a hostile takeover. I walked over to a wall switch and flipped it up. Shining down from the ceiling was a bright red cone of light, bathing the famous champion in its draining glow. A third red sun projector trained right down on her and the mighty Maid of Steel had nowhere to hide.

“Oh Rao! You bitch! You stone cold, bi..ILGGKKK! AUULGGKKK! HEP...HELP...”

“Game, set and match, cunt!”

She squirmed and gagged and rasped as her body fought for air. Her neck muscles weren’t quite strong enough now and Supergirl knew it. I’d defeated her completely. She rotated in place and swung to and fro for a full minute as the glowing green noose was more than enough to do the job now. Finally, I switched off the red sun projector, the damage done.

Supergirl was openly crying and her body slowly stopped swaying as she attempted to conserve her energy, hoping I’d guessed for a partial buildup but the minute’s bathing of her home planet’s sun beam in full force had worked its magic and now the green rope and painted spike were the only options left: those or saying the words I’d been paid millions to get her to pronounce.

“Come on, sweetie, it’s all over now,” I urged softly, pleasantly conciliatory now that I had the victory in hand that I’d so carefully engineered. “Do the smart thing. Renounce your heroism and join the world. Choose life, Supergirl. You fought hard and lost, it happens. Move on to a new chapter, yes?”

The girl sighed, her tears flowing down her cheeks, her cause lost. The rope was cutting off her airway and she dangled there choking and weeping with the red and yellow g-string mere inches away from horrific impalement.

She murmured something I couldn’t hear. Malo stopped leaning against the far wall by the cleat, and now stood at attention, ready to hoist the girl higher upon my command so I could remove the spike and let her go.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, dear,” I called up to her. “A bit louder please.”

And then all the fucking lights went out!

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When I crawled out of that water main up into the warehouse’s spacious utility room, I drew in a full lung’s worth of fresh air. It hadn’t been a sewer pipe I had come through so I didn’t have that kind of stink to deal with but the air was stale and clammy and even the air of the closed utility room felt alpine fresh in comparison. I took another deep breath and looked around. There was a water meter and a furnace flush against the wall and next to that an electrical panel.. That was promising.

I went to the steel door and opened it as slowly and silently as possible, hearing voices as I widened the gap and peered out. The sight was horrifying! Supergirl was strung up by the neck with glowing green rope, choking and gasping with her hands tied behind her back and her legs frog‑tied as well. She was dangling barely six inches over a nasty‑looking green spike, too. I didn’t know how long it had been going on but she looked in great distress, jerking and shaking as she wheezed for air while a man and a woman in running gear just stood by and watched, the woman saying something to her in a haughty coaxing tone.

I whipped out my flashlight from my belt and my gun from my holster virtually simultaneously and then took four steps back to the electrical panel and turned off the main switch to the entire facility with a sharp shove of my palm. The place went black and I dashed through the doorway following my white beam, running forward to try to somehow save Supergirl.

I heard the man by the wall’s heavy footfalls coming toward me while the woman’s movements were far more stealthy. I quickly swung the flashlight to where Supergirl was hanging. Both of her attackers had disappeared while she helplessly jerked on the end of the rope. But the oncoming stomps took precedence. I swung the beam toward the noise and saw a huge Hispanic guy in a hoodie crouching to leap at me from just five feet away. He had a glowing green crowbar in his hand so I fired a bullet into his thigh. That collapsed him to the floor.



My gun arm was extended straight out and my flashlight was aimed at the dude clutching his leg. I had adrenaline surging through me but my brain was coldly calm. The gun and flashlight were quivering but not wildly so.

“On your belly. NOW! Hands behind your back.” While he complied I circled around behind him, stuffing the flashlight in my armpit and aiming it at him while pulling out my handcuffs. That’s when I heard a noise behind me and a “Fuck!” so I spun in place, the flashlight in my armpit barely illuminating a glimpse of the female crouched over a stack of cardboard boxes that she’d knocked over.


She didn’t. Instead, she bolted sideways and I shot at her leg but missed. I cursed once myself and then spun around to see the big guy dashing off into the dark. All my spinning in place had the beam badly shifted now in my armpit and I glumly hung the cuffs on my belt and took the flashlight back in my hand. I aimed it at the sound of choking and saw the woman with her hand extended high holding tightly onto Supergirl’s ankle, steadying her in place with the spike’s point a mere grape’s width away the crease of the heroine’s camel toe.

“Now you freeze, officer, and drop your gun or I hang from this alien bitch like a chin‑up bar and she gets the ultimate prick here of her short lifetime.”

“...aauullggkk....don’ it.....Colin...” Supergirl rasped.

“DON’T!” I called out.

“You know this cop, Supes?” Menace didn’t like that prospect, figuring the angle on what turned from a single cop into a troop of them storming the place, I’d imagined. I fed her fear.

“There’s a SWAT team who’s about a minute away, whoever you are, from surrounding this place.”

“Just enough time to fuck this alien bitch into next week then,” the female grinned, pulling on the ankle with her one arm flexing, ready to jump up and pull Supergirl down hard on the spike.

“Not if you want to get away,” I countered while still holding the gun on her.

She looked at me and I at her and we played ‘chicken’ with Supergirl’s life hanging literally in the balance.

“Menace, the contract’s fulfilled,” the voice of the Hispanic said from off in the darkness to my right, startling me. I swung my arm back and forth trying to cover both people but I was nervous as hell. “You broke Supergirl. She’s finished. Let’s go.”

“I didn’t hear the words. Did you say the words, bitch?”

Supergirl didn’t answer yes and she didn’t answer no. She just hanged there and choked and quivered. But the woman named Menace smirked.

Then something painful slammed into my right side, something sharp that drew blood and made me feel faint immediately. I went down to one knee fighting nausea.

From another direction, an object that was shiny and long came flying out of the darkness from the woman’s hand I guessed. I ducked to avoid it but couldn’t. It hit my gun arm and though I fired at the darkness from where I was struck and then at the disappearing female I missed them both. Not surprising since there was a crowbar sticking out of my side. I didn’t want to pull it out since it was preventing a fountain of blood. As it was, it was starting to leak pretty heavily.

I don’t know how the two people got out of that warehouse but they obviously had some sort of escape hatch since they didn’t pass me toward the storm pipe in the utility room.

On the floor at my knee was a huge clear rubber double‑ended dildo. I shook my head and limped over towards Supergirl. Her face was turning red and her tongue was lolling out of her mouth not to mention that her camel toe was now flush with the point of the spike and it was clearly painful, the needle end pressing into the cleft as gravity did its worse.

I followed the noose up with my eyes and saw where it led up and over to the wall cleat so I knew what I had to do.

“Hold on for just a few more seconds, Supergirl,” I begged and hobbled over to the cleat.


I quickly unwrapped it but held it tight with every ounce of my waning strength so it wouldn’t give way. Then I slowly and carefully pulled on the rope, bargaining with God not to make my hands sweaty. Somehow they weren’t. I pulled the rope so there was a full foot between Supergirl and the spike before wrapping it once more around the cleat.

As I was scrabbling back to the spike, a thin stream of yellow urine drained out from the helplessly dangling blonde, anointing the spike. I figured out how to disengage it and threw it off to the side, the heavy metal clanging loudly on the cement as I painfully made my way back over to the rope and unwrapped it from the cleat, lowering the limp blonde beauty to the floor. She was gasping and choking as I hurried to her side. Frankly, I was gasping and groaning myself. We were quite the pair. She was alive but her entire body was shaking like a leaf as she whimpered and cried and gasped and shivered in my arms.

“It’s over. Shhhh. It’s all over,” I comforted her, holding her tight as she drew up into a fetal ball.

“Yes, it is. It’s over,” she murmured and then just stayed there for ten minutes as I radioed for backup finally, and held her until she stopped trembling. I would have radioed after she had some time to compose herself but to be honest we both needed medical attention in a hurry. I wanted to preserve her reputation but in the end it didn’t help much.

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What a week I was to be having! The television news reports were showing a steady diet of heavily‑censored scenes from Supergirl’s humiliating defeat by Menace. The radio talk shows were going non‑stop about the famous heroine’s blowjob techniques and her obvious enjoyment of anal sex. And the newspapers all around the world were serving up headlines that were suitable for framing. When Menace sent the tape to all the outlets they commented immediately about the teens lurid behavior in her defeat. “Supergirl Goes Down” and “SG Up Sh*ts Creek” and “SG Choke Artist.” The Boston Globe simply showed a color picture of her famous S emblem inside the international sign for no. I was liking that one very much.

Then when Supergirl announced in a hastily convened press conference two days later on the steps of city hall that she was hanging up her uniform, they had a field day with that, including “Sex Tape Scandal Sends SG Scurrying” and “Infamous SG Fail Leads to Farewell” and even one from Japan translated into my favorite, “Super Sexpot Says Sayonara.”

I met with Menace one final time over drinks at my restaurant. I was all smiles. She was less so, even with me having transferred the remaining half of her fee the day before.

“What is problem, my friend. I expected you to be grinning like cat who eats canary.”

“I took a bullet in my butt,” she answered as she gingerly sat in the chair I held for her. “A lucky damn shot by the cop who was there!”

“Aah. Well, this will heal. You can afford best doctors on planet now as well.”

“And my friend Malo took one in the leg.”

“This concerns me how?”

“I only bring it up because the medical expenses are listed in this expense report I’m submitting. They’re not fully complete but I would like one of your shell companies to pay for whatever other medical procedures might be called for related to this contract,” she declared, handing me an unsealed business envelope. I took the papers out and reviewed them as a waitress took our drink order.


“Grey Goose for me, neat.” When the waitress left, I nodded at the paper, “Everything is in order and under budget. Consider it done.”

“Thank you, Boris.”

“No, it is I who am to be thanking you, my dear,” I took her hand and kissed the back of it. She relented but looked unhappy still.

“Is there something else troubling you, my pet.”

“Other than being called a pet, you mean?”

“Yes, besides that,” I smirked. I admired this woman. Especially after seeing the full tape of Supergirl’s defeat that she delivered to me. She handled herself beautifully but was not above enjoying her work when circumstances permitted this. Seeing both her and Supergirl reach orgasm was a pleasure I would be reviewing for a long time to come.

“I guess I just wanted to hear her say the words she was going to quit being a hero then and there in the warehouse. It felt incomplete to me,” she said moodily. Our drinks arrived and as was her custom, my companion knocked hers back in one steady draining pass. She set the glass down on the tablecloth demurely though and her smile was a bit whimsical. “But what the fuck, she sure said them in her press conference.”

“Yes, yes she did. And for that you are to be congratulated on a job well done.”

She took out her phone and tapped it steadily for a minute and then held the screen up to me with a circle on it where my thumb print was to go.

“Congratulations are swell but I’d prefer you pay the expenses to date,” she said, her eyes dancing.

“Gladly, my pet,” I teased and pressed my thumb to the screen, paying her the millions that she’d so wonderfully earned. And that had earned me a promotion in the Defilers’ Club to Logistics Manager, which has some nice perks let me tell you.

Menace and I shook hands and before she left the restaurant she leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “If you have any more trash you need taken out. Do give me a call, won’t you? A girl likes to keep her hand in, just to stay sharp,” she said with a wink.

“Da,” I replied. “There’s always someone lurking who would like to play the hero. But for now, I think perhaps you have dissuaded them, yes?”

“One would think so,” she said and sashayed out, even with a bullet wound in that shapely butt. What a woman!.

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I was lying in a hospital bed in Star Labs’ medical unit when Supergirl came to visit me. This was a week after my commander sent just about every cop in the city to my radio call of ‘officer down’ from the warehouse I was in after rescuing everyone’s favorite Kryptonian. Well, everyone’s former favorite Kryptonian I should say. There was a television suspended over the foot of my bed and I’d seen the newspapers and knew the score about what had gone down before I got there in less than the nick of time.

I was pretty busy kicking myself for the hundredth time for not calling in the SWAT team when I was in the alley with that dreadful hunch about Supergirl being in trouble. But that was the past and now the world had a new future. Apparently one without the Maid of Steel in it.

There was a quiet knock I almost didn’t hear and when I called that the door was open a young brunette came into the room wearing a blue satin blouse and jeans.

“Hi. Come for another blood sample?” I asked, although those girls usually knocked loudly, came in quickly, did their job and left. This girl was trying to meld with the wall almost.

“Uuhhmm. Hi, Colin.”

“Hello,” I smiled politely. Who was this girl?

“It’s me, Supergirl. I...i...mean...Kara...” she whispered.

“Oh my god! Really? Oh, wow, come over here. Sit down. Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” She teared up then, big time, and shuffled over to the chair by the bed, snatching a tissue by the bed and dabbing at her eyes as she sat close to me. “You’re the one with the missing kidney. Thanks to me.” She sniffed, her head bowed.

“You didn’t stab me with a crowbar. That fuckwad Malo did. Pardon my language.”

“And I couldn’t do shit to stop him. Pardon mine.”

“Look at me, Supergirl. It’s not your fault. For godsake, you were hanging by the neck.”

“Please, don’t call me that,” she said, still staring at her hands twisting the tissue. “It’s not my name anymore.”

“But why? Why give up. To those maggots? They’re not worth it.”

“It’s not just them. It’s me.”

“You took a bad beating sure.”

“Believe me, it’s not the beating...” Her head snapped up and her blue eyes met mine. They were fierce for a flash and then dimmed down and she looked down again.

“It’s the sex stuff, huh?” What else would it be? Mr. Obvious grinds the truth into Supergirl’s soul. “Hey, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for,” I blurted.

“Doesn’t matter. Everyone’s thinking it,” she murmured. “I just wanted to come and thank you for saving my life. You’re the real hero in this room.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re much more a hero than I am.”

“Were that were true, but I know it’s not.”


“Because I gave in. I chose to live on their terms rather than die a hero.”

“I never heard you say that. Nobody did. That’s why everyone’s so surprised. Hey, everyone knows about that PleZZure drug and what it does. Hell, it’s sweeping the nation already as we speak from what the news says. You weren’t yourself. You weren’t responsible.”

“I was responsible. More than that, I said the words. I mumbled them just before you turned off the power. I gave in and said what they wanted me to say. They won.”

“Nobody heard you. Nobody!” I was shouting and she looked up at me once more.

“I heard me. That was the only person who mattered. Me.”

“But...but the circumstances...nobody will...”

“Forget,” she interrupted. “Nobody will forget what I did in that alley or in that warehouse. I sure can’t! I thought maybe I’d get a pass from the public when the truth about what that drug does to you. It grabs your brain and grabs your body and it makes it okay to do anything as long as there’s pleasure attached to it. Anything!”

“Exactly! People will understand.”

“People will understand. But they won’t forget! Between the release of my sex tape as they’re calling it and my press conference I went to save a teenage boy who had been struck by a bicycle. He had a broken leg and was in pretty bad pain. As I lifted him from the street to carry him to the hospital, his hand reached around and palmed my ass! And then he said, ‘That feel good, Super Slut?’ I wanted to break his other leg. God, it was so mortifying!” Supergirl grabbed two more tissues from the box and covered her face in them before blowing her nose and staring once again at her hands.

“I acted like a porn star in my costume, Colin. I did things and said things and acted in a way that is pure poison to the image of what that shield is supposed to stand for. That can never be reversed. That can never be unseen. And it’s spread across the world now. Supergirl as a symbol of good, a symbol of moral strength and hope has been crushed forever. Tell me I’m wrong!”

“I...i...can’t..” I murmured. Now I was the one looking away from those tragic blue eyes.

“But...but ..but forever is a long time, Kara.” I grabbed her hand and held it in mine, shaking it lightly. We looked at each other and simply smiled hopefully, painfully.

“That’s true,” she said. “But for now, I’m done,” she concluded, pulling her hand away and standing up to leave.

“I’m sorry, Kara. Sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“You did all you could. More than most. You sacrificed a kidney, Colin. I’ll always be grateful for what you did. Hell, you saved my life...such as it is.”

“And you saved so many of ours! Remember that,” I choked.

“I’ll try. I will. It will help. In time.”

She left my room with a pensive nod and with that Supergirl left our lives and hasn’t been seen since.

The End