And you thought I'd forgotten about this little gem! Hardly. Enjoy!
Chapter 3
Devastating radiation floods an exhausted Supergirl’s mouth, vagina and anus with a sickening familiar greenish glow. The three thin kryptonite inserts secured tightly within the clear plastic dildoes crammed down her throat, implanted in her pussy and shoved deeply within her rectum accomplish the job they’ve been designed to do; drain the famous superheroine of every iota of strength and mental acuity she possessed. All her huge reserve of energy that would normally give her the ability to easily escape her desperate situation, that was completely gone! The extensive flight time from Chicago to the tiny Caribbean island ensured that the mighty powerhouse Kryptonian had all the energy of a ten-year old car battery in mid-winter. Drained of everything.
Now, she can barely fight off the lethargy that inundates her and threatens to dump her back into black oblivion. Strapped face-down on some sort of lab table, the famous Girl from the Stars mumbles a barely intelligible “leh me…goh…” at the massive hulking figure she now senses standing off to her right side. He’s been walking around singing way-out of tune the demeaning lyrics to “Under My Thumb” by the Rolling Stones the entire time she’s been lying there trying to regain her control, her confidence. Even as his hands unshackle her ankles from the lab table leg, he’s onto the verse…
“It's down to me, yes, it is. The way she does just what she's told. Down to me, the change has come She's under my thumb.”
“…ohn…ooo…iss…” Far too weak to try to pull away from the man’s grasp, Kara pleads in a strained whisper around the hard plastic throat gag.
“Oh, but I want to do this, babe. It’s what gets me out of bed in the morning! The chance to inflict pain on another human being…well, not quite a human…on a defenseless alien who goes around showing everybody up every chance she gets, why that’s my skill set, sweetie. As you’re about to find out.”
The large man chuckles at the limp heroine as he easily hoists her off the lab table and drapes over the black leather cushion of a rolling bondage sawhorse. Her wrists are firmly forced into unyielding nth metal circles welded to the rolling sawhorse’s black nth metal legs. Her ankles follow, tightly forced into place without any resistance from the world-famous heroine. Dazed as she hangs limply in place, Supergirl’s short red skirt is folded over her waist by the humming man while her shiny red panties are exposed, stretched out of shape by the bulky dildoes embedded within her vagina and ass.
“I’m guessing this is a first for you, Supergirl. Helplessly strapped into a bondage apparatus with no hope of escape. Well, you better get used to it, girly. We’ve got your number now and there ain’t nothing you can do about it.”
Leaning over, the huge enforcer unbuckles the strap holding the clear, gagging dildo tightly within Supergirl’s throat. The man’s been told the face dildo could be removed without risk of the powerful heroine regaining her strength. The dildos in her other two holes are more than enough to keep the renowned Maid of Steel completely powerless. With a sneer, he roughly pulls the mouth dildo out, scraping the blonde’s raw orifice as he withdraws the offensive sex toy. A long silver string of drool hangs in mid-air between her lips and the tip of the plastic tube until it lengthens and snaps, whipping against her cheek with a warm wetness that flushes the face of heroine to an embarrassing pink hue.
“You’ll just have to learn to take your medicine like the rest of the young ladies we’ve gathered on this island. You’ll soon be showing the men folk who show up here how pretty little twats like you are all about pleasing them with every crease, fold and orifice of your body.”
“That’s never going to happen,” growls Supergirl, working her jaw side to side to relax the muscles there.
“You’d be surprised at just how quick it WILL happen, you pathetic cunt. By the way, my name’s Bruno Mathers. You may have heard of me from my glory days in the NFL…when I roamed the football fields like a warrior and took out all those who opposed me.”
“Mathers. Right…” Supergirl murmurs softly. She remembered Bruno, a dirty defensive lineman who couldn’t handle opponents like a real man. Instead, he’d used cheap shots and blind-side hits to put three men in a hospital. And then, two years ago, there was the time he flung an underweight 156-pound wide receiver far off the playing field and into a bench on the sideline in a mad rush to the quarterback. That receiver had hit his head on the bench and was taken by ambulance to the hospital where the player died on the operating table from massive hemorrhaging. Ultimately that got Mathers kicked out of the league. Clearly, the huge dufus was proud of his record. And now he was looking down at her with a look of mixed maliciousness and anticipation. He even licked his lips.
“Time to meet your many admirers, toots. Although I suspect the admiration won’t hang in long once I start tuning you up. You’ll be getting your ass kicked in front of all the lovely girls you were coming here to rescue. That ought to dash all their hopes to smithereens, watching the famous Supergirl get face fucked, roofied and raped, just the way all of them were treated when they arrived. Seeing you manhandled just like them with the same abuses, the same humiliating degrading sex acts and cum-dribbling endings, well, it’ll be a lesson they won’t soon forget.”
“You can’t! You wouldn’t!” Supergirl’s blurted defiance draws the biggest smile on the face of the brutish ex-football titan yet.
“Oh, sweet cheeks, it’s absolutely happening. Right now!” With an ominous snicker, Bruno grabs the handles of the rolling bondage sawhorse and pushes Supergirl through an open doorway, down a short corridor and onto a stage of a large auditorium. From her humiliating position of being hung over a leather-clad sawhorse and wheeled out on stage like some piece of furniture, the blonde hero looks out at a crowd of young, beautiful women, every one of them clad in uniform silver blue short shorts and tight red t-shirts with fancy white script lettering that declares each wearer to be a Harmony Island Sex Toy…and proud of it!
The many faces looking back at her while all quite attractive show severe strain; tight jaws, poor eye contact and quivering lips. A drained and miserable Supergirl spots a variety of emotions in the crowd including disillusionment, anger, fear, even horror. Other faces showed blank confusion. Noticeably, none of the twenty young women she sees seated in a semi-circle of chairs in the first three rows of the auditorium exhibit anything close to hope in their eyes.
It seems impossible but the wan, exhausted blonde heroine’s face gets even paler as Bruno announces into a microphone set up at a nearby podium,
“Ladies. You all know me of course…intimately. But as you see, I’ve wheeled in a special guest who’s here to save you all! That’s right, it’s Supergirl herself and she is going to be saving each and every one of you today… right after, that is, she beats me up and shows me who’s boss!”
A bare murmur of snorts and clucking tongues among the women greets this announcement with obvious disdain.
“Of course, if this amazing Princess of Power can’t find it within herself to beat me up, well, then I guess that puts her in her place right with the rest of you. And will be made to don our “camp” t-shirt and shorty shorts. But let’s see how it goes, shall we?”
“First though, full disclosure,” Bruno speaks into the podium mike as he wheels the rolling device around and points Supergirl’s exposed rear end at the audience. “Naturally, the management realized that we had to take away Supergirl’s powers so we could even the playing field. We’ve done that with kryptonite dildos buried in her cooz and her butthole. You can see them stretching out those famous red panties of hers that she likes flashing crowds with in her teasing fly-bys all over Chicago.”
This statement draws a noticeable wave of cynical agreement from a significant contingent of the crowd. The many abused young woman had been treated to loops of Supergirl inadvertently flashing her panties during a rescue of two goggle-eyed teenage boys from a cracked dam, putting out a warehouse fire on a windy day when her skirt was blown up while she was using her super breath on a particularly resistant conflagration on a second story storage area.
The final loop the captive women had been shown over the past two days was Supergirl’s fight with a white Martian. The creature had managed to hold the famous beauty upside down by her calves while repeatedly shaking her up and down. It was unclear in the endlessly repeating loop which aspect of the attack caused Supergirl’s agonized expression during the battle: the pain of having her thighs yanked apart so roughly or the obvious camel toe displayed for everyone’s appreciation. It was all part of Derek Gray’s plan of psychologically undermining the Maid of Steel’s support among the captured sex workers. The plan was working based on the reaction of many of the women to Bruno’s comment about ‘teasing fly-bys.’
“Anyway, I’m sure that the famous Maid of Steel here can handle a mere mortal like me even without her super powers, natch? She’s a highly accomplished martial arts fighter after all, right?”
Unlocking the black nth metal cuffs that hold Supergirl’s wrists and ankles to the bondage horse, Bruno undoes the final remaining cuff on the heroine’s right wrist, yanks hard on her arm, and the world-renowned beauty falls off the horse in an ungainly flop on the auditorium stage.
“Oopsie daisy. Supergirl go splat! Not a great start. Come on, champ. Lay one on me. Give me a hard right cross and take me out with just one punch. That’s your trademark move, isn’t it? The Power Punch I believe the media calls it. Let’s see that!” Helplessly sprawled on her back on the floor of the stage with her thighs akimbo, the gusset of Supergirl’s panties face the audience, the pale green glow emanating through the shiny red fabric draws a loud moan from the helplessly prone heroine.
“Ohh, too weak already to make a good effort, SuperTwat?
Kneeling next to the listless blonde heroine, Bruno cups his massive hands over both dildos between Supergirl’s thighs and shakes both toys roughly.
“These little toys causing you some great discomfort, are they, champ? You’re limp as a boneless chicken, little lady. I’d say you might even be too weak to stop me from feeling up these plump young knockers of yours, eh?”
That truth is clear to everyone as Bruno’s hands squeeze and fondle the firm mounds beneath her red and yellow emblem of hope. The beleaguered blonde’s flailing hands are incapable of defending her honor as Bruno easily knocks them away and manhandles the heroine’s soft lumps with complete impunity, squeezing, mauling and pinching at the nipples that grow and accentuate the impressive chest of the defenseless beauty as she is pressed down and raucously fondled in front of all the women she was here to protect. If only she weren’t so sick she could barely move. And when Bruno’s huge hand unclasped her sore tit and then blasted directly down into her belly, driving all the air from her lungs, Supergirl retched loudly and then lay there in total defeat, gasping desperately for air that refused to come to her aching lungs.