PG  

By Interesting Life

FOR BREEDING PURPOSES ONLY

A super-heroine story set in a fictional DCU.

Disclaimer : the following is a work of parody and fiction. It contains scenes of violence, bondage and/or sexual situations which may or may not be consensual, and is intended for adult readers only. All characters portrayed in this story are adults. This work in not for profit and is intended as entertainment only. The author does not support or encourage violence or humiliation towards women or anyone. Characters portrayed in this story are the property of DC Comics.

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PREVIOUSLY:

The Martian Manhunter apparently uncaring of the stress he inflicts upon them as he forces them into sexual encounters with himself (and also others), continues his experiments on breeding to find out if the meta population of Earth can help bring his race back from the brink of extinction.

Many of his allies (Vixen, Hawkgirl, Catwoman, Mera and Wonderwoman) have suffered at his hands so far, and the list is still growing...


Experiment #13 - Karen Starr, aka Powergirl

Six years in jail had served its toll on John Kahn. He wasn't the same man as when he had entered. Prison tended to either break minor criminals or make them harder. Kahn had decided not to let himself be destroyed. That had meant falling in with the tough crowd. It had meant doing things he would never have considered otherwise. Embittered, he had learned to remain quiet and keep his anger bottled up. He had been lucky in this. Except for that first month in maximum security, no one had tried to take advantage of him other than making sure he toed the line.

His release came quite suddenly. He hadn't expected, after being accused of trying to kill Superman and half of Metropolis, to ever be let out. His lawyer talked about technicalities making the trial void. But he didn't want to leave prison. No one would hire him now that he was a felon. It didn't matter that he had high degrees in mechanical and electrical engineering. It didn't matter that, for five years before his incarceration, he had worked at S.T.A.R. labs in Metropolis on cutting edge technology. It also didn't matter that his intent had been noble when he had tried to steal Superman's power. It only mattered that he had been found guilty and sentenced, and now, the best job he could hope for was janitor in some sleazy motel.

He might have been content with it, had it not been for an unexpected visit by a man he didn't know who knew his entire resume, and who invited him into one of the biggest criminal organizations in the world. The man had even recovered his suit from six years ago, along with the related technology. None of it worked anymore, but for John Kahn, it was just a matter of putting it back together. And then, it had only been an issue of testing it out. His employer apparenly had the best plan for that. It would involve a heist, but not in Metropolis. It would be held in New York, and only at the appointed time. John Kahn had learned to be patient in jail, so he didn't mind.

When the call came, his employer told him to resume his previous criminal alter ego. Siphon, clad in his dark red and brown costume, helmet and visor, not even altered from his first appearance six years ago, arrived at the warehouse with his three henchmen (oddly named Aramis, Porthos and Athos) in order to steal the supplies. But of course, that was the front of the operation. The real play would only begin later.

The JSA hall was quiet today. Most of the team members were out, either on assignment, off-duty or in training. Obsidian, as usual, kept watch on the Brownstone while Dr. Mid-Nite, locked in his lab, worked on some medical mystery at hand. On watch duty, ready to intervene, was Powergirl. She was relaxing, reading a sports magazine that Tom Bromson, the young Wildcat, had left behind. Beyond the obvious pictures of swimsuit wearing models and the only partially hidden sexual innuendo, some articles were actually well written.

A sign on the monitor triggered. While the JSA listened in on police bands and security systems of various companies around the city, they didn't always act on these emergencies. After all, in most cases, the authorities sufficed. A silent alarm had been triggered at a warehouse facility. Quickly, Powergirl checked out its details. It was listed as a property of Glomex, really a front for LexCorp to store some of its dangerous items, mostly weapons. There mere fact that a Lexcorp facility was being raided was reason enough to intervene - especially since, from the data, it seemed that the security response team which should have already been on site was not reacting. It could easily be an inside job, Lex allowing people to steal his merchandise to get it on the black market. It had happened before. Powergirl was up and away a moment later, flying to the location within twenty or so seconds, hovering above the warehouse. Using her layer vision, she peered through the bricks and steel frame to find out what was going on inside.

It looked to be a snatch-and-grab operation. A truck was being loaded with crates taken from the supplies; inside the crates were various electronic components, and a few high-powered laser rifles, the kind which invulnerable heroes such as herself hated considerably, and that low or non-powered ones dreaded. There was one criminal running the lift, one inside the van helping with the positioning of the crates, and one on the lookout, armed with a heavy weapon which she identified as a plasma gun, another hated Lexcorp invention, available on the black market. Mindful of hidden threats, she extended her visual reach into the office, and spotted a man in a red and brown costume, perusing through the computer. Clearly the mastermind of this operation, clad in a very stereotypical villain costume.

Recently, Powergirl hadn't fared well in her interventions; or perhaps that was an understatement, but she had failed in at least one that counted. Her instance of failure had been during the Vessel of Orgia incident, where she had succumbed to the power of the artefact and entered into a pornographic act with a working porn crew; the result of that failure, and her manhandling of them, was available to everyone on the internet, regardless of how many times Cyborg had been able to take it down. Her attitude was glum. She didn't feel like facing down these thugs. Examining the scene once more, she decided to begin her intervention with their leader, working her way down from him.

She flew to the window leading into the room where the man was bent over the computer. Not even considering the property damage it would inflict, she broke through the thin wall and into the room, sending the man in question jolting back in surprise.

"Surrender now!" she called out in an angry voice.

He turned around to face her in his suit, feeling less than intimidating in front of the Kryptonian powerhouse.

"Powergirl?"

"In the flesh. Now, surrender."

She noticed that his suit seemed to contain some kind of neuro-circuitry, visible from up close.

"And don't try anything!"

"I would never," he replied, raising his gloved hands.

What Powergirl could not know was that the circuitry was already at work; it had activated as soon as it had detected her alien DNA, analyzing it. It would only take a few minutes to operate its science, so Siphon had to buy himself some time.

"What were you doing here?"

"Why should I tell you?" he asked.

She made two steps towards him, intimidating. He didn't have to fake his reaction; she felt like she would snap him in two. He wasn't large to begin with.

"Ok, ok... we got a tip we could get some cool weapons here."

"Who tipped you?"

"It was anonymous, on the internet."

"Where on the internet?"

He seemed to hesitate before speaking, again trying to buy himself some time

"There's this message board I go to... it's all encoded."

I wasn't even a lie. The details of the hiring could be tracked to the message board, even if he himself had been hired directly by his employer.

"You'll need to give me the internet address..."

Inside his visor, Siphon saw that the initial scan had been completed; the suit was now analyzing the data and extrapolating the rest of the information it needed to carry out its operations.

"What about my men?"

"They're as good as dealt with," she told him. "I figured I'd take care of the head honcho first."

"...flattered, I guess."

"What's your name?"

"I go by Siphon."

"Your real name!"

"It's Kahn. John."

She might find it from his criminal record, so there was no point in trying to hide it.

"Siphon... what does that imply?"

"...I tried to steal Superman's powers several years ago," he explained. "He was becoming dangerous, almost violent. I had to stop him... I tried... he and Batman took me down."

"Well, you certainly have a knack for attracting the big names," she told him.

His cooperation was starting to sound a little strange, and Powergirl wondered what he kept up his sleeve. There were no places where reinforcements could be hidden, and nothing was hidden behind any form of lead-lined box or wall. She hazarded a quick glance in the direction of the henchmen, but they were still at it down on the floor, packing the crates.

"You're stalling," she finally conluded.

"Guilty as charged, Powergirl."

"For what?"

"Well, if I distract you long enough, maybe my men will be able to get away. I still get paid if I go back to prison, you know."

"But you won't be able to use that money. Something's up... with your suit?"

Damned, she was smart, he told himself.

"Last time I faced Superman," he told her, "I had my disruptor. It was designed to nullify his powers and transfer them into my suit. Didn't really work. Had to refine it."

"And I suppose you're going to try to use that on me?" she replied, thinking she was figuring out his play.

"Not quite."

It was about time, he told himself when the visor light turned green. The suit's circuitry ignited. Powergirl's sensitive hearing heard the crackle of energy - but she wasn't faster than light. The suit, powered up, had just evened the odds, and Siphon let out a smile.

"Keep them talking," he mumbled to himself as he began to walk towards her.

She was ready for him. His approach wasn't subtle. He punched her. She moved her left hand to block his right fist; as the two connected, the impact of his punch pushed her backwards, and she was caught off guard.

"What the...?"

It wasn't a supernatural punch. It was a regular punch, from someone who had trained in boxing, but had no supernatural strength. She hadn't felt her lifeforce of energy levels diminish. But he had punched her and she had reacted as she would have should she have no power - and she had experienced it before.

Siphon wasn't stupid. Even with their powers neutralized, heroes could be quite the hassle, so he pressed his advantage, taking full control of the momentary distraction. He started wailing on her, punch after punch after punch; she blocked or deflected most of them, but they hurt. One of his knuckles grazed her lower lip, tearing it open, drawing blood. One struck her in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. Her large breasts absorbed many hits, though they compressed her lungs underneath and made her wheeze. Finally regaining some of her composure, Powergirl was able to push him back with a strong shoulder block, then tried to regain the advantage. But Siphon had planned this, and already had chosen his weapons from the office. As she charged him, he reached and grabbed the stapler; though her punch connected with his own gut, the stapler landed on her face, and drew blood as the staple stuck to her skin. She reeled back once again from the unexpected pain. He slammed the stapler itself against her forehead and she keeled to the side.

He had the advantage and he decided not to waste it. He toppled the entire computer system, an old heavy screen, on top of her, kicking her as she was down.

"...stop..." he heard her beg, and it made him smile.

"Not so tough now, are we, Powerslut?"

He looked up to the corner of the room, at the camera recording the scene for his employer. He had been paid handsomely for the humiliation. The suit was working at optimum efficiency, its waves neutralizing her powers just like the Disruptor had done to Superman all those years ago. His employer had assured him that no rescue could come. In fact, and Powergirl again could not know this, all external communications outside of the building were blocked, so her earpiece communicator had been rendered useless.

Siphon bent down and began to slap her hard. She cringed at every hit, unsure what to make of this unexpected pain. She had been powerless before. She had been injured before. Whatever was happening was beyond those mere effects, and she wondered if something somewhere, a power or a device, wasn't amplifying the sensation. Normally, she felt she could have been able to tolerate it, but right now, she felt powerless.

Grabbing her by the chest hole in the middle of her suit, Siphon painfully lifted her off the ground.

"Stop this," she mumbled, every word hard to say.

"Oh! I'm not stopping this one bit. I've had a lot of time to think on this in jail..."

She perfectly understood what he meant with those words; to her, it meant she had to fight. But even as she raised her arms, he hit her again in the face, drawing blood from her nose.

"Argh! Stop!"

She was defeated. Siphon could hardly contain his excitement, but his employer had been quite specific about certain aspects of the contract. The first order of business was to completely undress her. Siphon tried to tear at the clothing, but it wouldn't give. Clearly, the heroine had improved the fabric of her textile, he thought. Not that it mattered. He unclasped the red cape hanging from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Manhandling her in the process, a few slaps here and there, he began to pull the costume down on her shape, exposing her top first. Her large breasts popped into view (her support bra pulled down at the same time as her suit), and he stared back at the camera as he fondled one of her mounds, squeezing it hard, making Powergirl yelp. The costume was pulled further down; the belt was taken off, and then the entire costume was slipped down to her knees, panties alongside it. Siphon was pleased to find out she kept the blonde hair around her sex trimmed very short in landing strip pattern. Only her blue boots remained on.

"You're gonna make someone very happy," he goaded her on.

Forcing her face to stare towards the camera, his hand reached between her thighs to the folds of her sex, and he began teasing her.

"No... aahh... stop this..."

The words were spilling from her mouth mostly in reaction, not necessarily in any conscious manner. As with the pain, she found that the stimulation of her erogenous zone was quite intense, more than she had thought it would be. Her mouth began to twist in delight even as her eyes rolled away in disgust. Siphon managed to slip two fingers inside her tightness, and she really lost it, climaxing on his fingers for the benefit of whoever was watching.

"Aaah… no…."

Panting heavily, she almost collapsed forward, but Siphon held her up.

"...stop..."

There was no strength in her voice. He bent over the desk where the computer had been a few minutes ago, and began to fondle with his pants.

"I can't wait anymore," he mumbled. "Don't worry... I probably won't be long..."

She wanted to fight back against his violence, but her nerves were still racked from the previous pain and pleasure. He exposed his hardened shaft, positioning himself right outside her entryway. He twisted her head so her face would look up at the camera, and then proceeded to violate her sex. Her lips betrayed the intrusion with a massive 'o' shape, and he kept her head locked in that position as he raped her.

"Oh my fucking god I missed this!" he almost screamed.

He had been right about one thing: his intercourse didn't even last one minute, with the speed and intensity he was thrusting.

"I'm so gonna come!..."

He pulled out, spraying it all on top of her back, as had been requested by his employer. When he let go of her head, she kept looking in that direction, unable to move back to a less contorted position. As Siphon pulled away from her, she collapsed back onto the floor, a heap of conflicted sensations, sweaty and battered. He leaned over her, slapped her a few more times.

"God that was amazing, cunt! I'm gonna have to do it again as soon as I get hard."

"...you pig..."

"Curse all you want. Won't change a thing.

"...how are you...?"

"You think I'm gonna tell you and ruin my play? We've just begun, bitch."

He pulled his pants back up, not bothering to wipe himself. He grabbed her by the hair and started dragging her out of the room. She yelled back at the pain but he ignored it.

Out in the warehouse, the three henchmen were surprised to see their leader walk out of the office. Even more suprising was the sight of him dragging by the hair a naked blonde woman in blue boots. Her face seemed familiar.

"Boys, stop whatever you're doing and come over here."

They did as ordered, as much intrigued as they were aroused by the sight.

"I hope you enjoy sloppy seconds," he told them.

They noticed the trail of semen dribbling against her back.

"Is that...?" one of them blurted out.

"It is, and she's yours to have fun with, whatever fun you want to have for the next fifteen minutes. Make it fast."

The one holding the gun hesitated, unsure what to do; the other two, however, immediately pulled their pants down.

"Is she gonna bite?" one of them asked.

"Just slap her a few times before. She won't bite."

He did as suggested, hitting her face hard, before sticking his hardening shaft in her mouth.

"Hey! I can't fuck her chest if you're using her mouth!" the other complained.

"Just a minute more," the first one replied, visibly enjoying his oral ministration.

"Come on man! We're on a deadline."

"Fine!"

The man pulled out quickly; Powergirl coughed from the roughness. The other one pushed her hard onto the concrete floor, and mounted her breasts facing her.

"They're humongous!"

"So what do I get?"

"Fuck her pussy. I don't care!"

The other man did just that, ramming his now hard erection into her wet snatch, while the other one rode her breasts, using them to stroke himself to pleasure.

"Damn this is good!"

Siphon looked at the one standing aside.

"You're not gonna take advantage of it?"

"I'll wait 'til they're done."

"We don't have a lot of time."

"I can wait."

Siphon wouldn't argue the point. The time factor had been calculated by his employer. In truth, the count was closer to thirty. Siphon hoped seeing all this would get him up again. It certainly wasn't an opportunity he could ignore.

"So tight in her cunt, man..."

"Her breasts are friggin' great!"

Powergirl was unable to fight back, and she hated herself for it. The lewd violation, compounded with her recent public humiliation, was drawing tears from her overstimulated self, and she definitely knew that she was being manipulated in some way. All she could do, at the moment, was endure and outlast.

Almost in sync, the two men raping her came. A large burst of semen sprayed upwards and onto her chin and lips as the one riding her breasts exploded. The other one, pumping her pussy, pulled out just as he was ready to blow his load and shuffled about, firing at her mouth. The other one, grabbing her chin, forced her lips open and half of their seeds ended up on her tongue and into her throat.

"Fuck yeah!"

"This is wicked."

They had completed their act within five minutes, obviously much too stimulated to last any longer. As they retreated, the one holding the gun set it down. He pulled his pants completely off, then pulled off his black shirt as well, only keeping his cowl on. He was obviously ready to get down to business. But before doing so, he used his shirt to wipe most of the semen off Powergirl's frame, then titled her head sideways so she could spit out whatever she hadn't already swallowed. His attention almost seemed caring. That being said, he still positioned his shaft against her sex and proceeded to gently glide it in. Powergirl moaned from the penetration.

His violation, Siphon found, was more akin to lovemaking that actual rape, at least that's what it felt like. He caressed her body gently as he rocked himself inside her, his powerful buttocks controlling the rhythm. Oddly enough, Siphon found this much more stimulating than the lewd and hurried acts of the other two, who were also contemplating the scene. Even Powergirl seemed into it, arching her head back, going as far as to wrap her arms around her rapist's back and upper buttocks, helping him penetrate her. She felt him incredibly well, as if he occupied every small nook of her internal organ, deep into her womb, tender and powerful at the same time. While neither of the previous aggressor had managed to do so, she climaxed on this rapist's shaft in a long series of moans. The two other henchmen began to stroke themselves again at the sight, hoping for a second turn.

"Yes.... please... softly like that..."

Powergirl had abandoned all resistance; the man on top of her was fulfilling her need and he was, in consideration, a very attentive lover. She achieved orgasm slowly, climbing into the ecstasy of it, trading kisses with her aggressor.

"Take me... please..."

Her begging was a turn on for all involved; the man riding her gently thrust more deeply, and as her orgasm rose even higher, he emptied himself in a warm mush of fluids that felt amazingly satisfying to the heroine. The act slowed down to a full stop, and the man, caressing her cheek, planted a last kiss on her lips before pulling away.

"That was amazing," Siphon called out.

"It's not all about violence," the man mounting Powergirl told him. "And now, you'll find her much more receptive to whatever comes next."

"Indeed," Siphon replied.

He watched the henchman wipe himself, then get dressed, as he himself lowered his pants again. He laid on top of her, hard again, ready to start again. He took his time, depriving the other two henchmen from further involvement with her (though they did stroke themselves to completion over her breasts while Siphon was grinding inside her). Lost in her own mind, Powergirl indulged in the pleasure that Siphon provided her, receptive to his caresses up to the last moment when he spilled himself inside her, grunting with delight as he triumphed once more.

The entire criminal team still had three minutes left to their timetable when they packed and left, leaving a very exposed and vulnerable Powergirl lying practically unconcious in the middle of the concrete floor of the warehouse. Siphon was pleased. Not only had his suit worked marvelously, but he had fulfilled a rare fantasy which would definitely stand him out among the criminal elite. There was no doubt in his mind that it would be all the way up from there.

When the security services arrived, Powergirl was gone from the scene. In fact, the maiden of might was not seen for several days after that; she didn't tell anyone in the Justice Society what had transpired. Not yet. Why she didn't tell them, however, was beyond the mere shame. If it had only been that issue, she wouldn't have hesitated.

It was about the fourth man, the one who had made love to her. There was something off about him and, without her enhanced senses, she had been unable to tell the difference between him and the others. Still, she knew deep down inside that this particular rapist wasn't like the others, and not just because of how he had raped her. And that knowledge obsessed her. She didn't want to share it with anyone - and she wondered if, somehow, that wasn't the issue at play.

Why wouldn't she tell anyone of this violation, unless she had a very good reason not to?

- Experiment Report -

"When it was decided that the Kryptonian females of planet Earth would be included in the study, several additional precautions had to be planned. With their combined might and abilities, even the most powerful of beings needed to take a step back and consider the ramifications of not only running the experiment, but also the potential aftermath. As with the amazon warrior princess, one could not simply walk in and impose one's self.

"Experiment #13 weaved a successful criminal narrative into the assault on Powergirl. It required planning beyond the traditional scope. The recent release of the criminal known as Siphon, and his induction into the Secret Society under the employ of the Calculator, proved to be an effective means of baiting the scene. Creating the scenario to coincide with the Calculator's actions required some intense surveillance, but an optimum scene was drafted when the Calculator himself baited the trap.

"Passing off as one of the henchman was the simplest way to achieve the goal. With the heroine incapacitated by the effect of Siphon's technology, her capacity for detection of an altered human became quite limited, allowing for the act of fornication to be perpetrated on her without fear of being scanned. The Kryptonian sensory apparatus being so precise, only the dulling of all nervous reactions could account for this.

"Still, after the fact, it seems that Powergirl may have retained, despite the ordeal she was subjected to, some semblance of awareness that one of the henchmen was not as the others were. I advise against memory alteration in her case, as modifying Kryptonian engrams has always proved more challenging. The risk of discovery being minimal at best, there is also no scientific way for Powergirl to come up with the conclusion that would lead to a confrontation.

"No further inquiry into her reproductive physiology are to be considered, at least until a more formal and elaborate approach can be devised.

"Side note: a second scenario, initially intended for Powergirl, may be usable against the other Kryptonian woman on the planet. It is worth investigating if it proves more viable."


NEXT: Supergirl has to deal with the strange menagerie of creatures kept in the Fortress of Solitude!

For Breeding Purposes Only part 8