100.jpg)
Supergirl: Lost in the Swarm
Damn. I'm very late to this story, but I love how each character is painted so differently from one another. And how you portray Supergirl's weakness not because of the usual kryptonite and all, but through, as you said, targeting the 'girl' instead of the 'super'. It's probably been done before but you're doing it great 
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Hey Artee,Artee wrote: ↑4 years agoDamn. I'm very late to this story, but I love how each character is painted so differently from one another. And how you portray Supergirl's weakness not because of the usual kryptonite and all, but through, as you said, targeting the 'girl' instead of the 'super'. It's probably been done before but you're doing it great
Better late than never. I love comments like this. Life rule: never say no to flattery. Basically, glad to have you on board. I'v never gone this deep into a story before - still learning the ropes - but so far, so good. Thanks for taking the time.
Cheers,
Last edited by girlofsteel 4 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
As previously mentioned, I've never been able to get this deep into a story before. Feels weird. Definitely unfamiliar terrain.
The comments help. Actually, they've been amazing. I would never have made it this far without the community's support. Seeing the response and knowing this story has an audience...well it means everything. Thank you all.
Here's the latest - ciao for now.
_____________________________
----------------------------------30---------------------------------
Images of Matron, The Swarm and, above of all, Riven flooded Supergirl’s mind. But as she peeled away from Alexis’ warm touch, desperate for respite, all she encountered were the screens. Shame washing her face from the barrage of sex-crazed clips that had, once again, begun flashing before her eyes.
Consumed with humiliation, Supergirl’s anger swelled. All she wanted was to defeat The Swarm. Nothing else mattered. Even if it meant working with Alexis Luthor. A woman, that only a few seconds ago, she had accused of masterminding the wanton destruction back on Pearl. But in a cruel turn of fate, her enemy had become a friend. How did things get so twisted? I’m supposed to stop the bad guys, not protect them. Spinning around to confront Alexis, the irony made her sick. But, in the moment, the Maid of Might knew that she had little choice. There was simply too much at stake.
“Tell me about Amal,” demanded Supergirl. Her irritation showing as she caught Alexis’ eyes sweeping up her toned legs.
“Don’t worry little birdie; I’m not into girls. Although,” said Alexis, with a teasing glance, “I'd be willing to make an exception for your tight ass. You know, less than five percent of women have the desired body type to be an international model—let alone possess the confidence recquired to pull off that sexy little number.”
As Supergirl’s discomfort grew, Alexis chuckled. “Relax Supergirl, like I said, I’m not the one trying to get into your panties.” Clasping her hands together, Alexis directed the Girl of Steel, with a quick nod, to follow her towards the center of the oval-shaped room. “That would be Amal. When I first met her, she all but worshiped you. Blessed with similar, ahem,…attributes, she practically was you. At least, she liked to think so.
“But what she couldn’t understand is that there are limits.” Without a pause, Alexis climbed over the unconscious guard—smirking as Supergirl elected to walk around the sprawled figure. “Surpassing those limits requires…well let me show you,” said Alexis, extending her hand. On cue, a click emanated from the ceiling, casting a life-like hologram out of the swirl of blue light.
It was Amal.
Supergirl felt her legs wobble at the sight of the woman’s armored abs. Her olive skin glistening, endowing the pixel-perfect copy of the villainess’ powerful frame with a shimmering hue.
True to life, the veins in Amal’s digital recreation popped, capturing her impossibly large muscles. The strength of her long legs, evident even beneath her military-styled khakis. While her green, sports bra struggled to contain her flawlessly-replicated breasts.
Supergirl could feel sweat forming on her forehead from the weight of the hologram’s hazel eyes—incisive and clear. But what caused the heroic beauty to frantically look away was the warmth spreading over her vulva. Her face instantly froze – lips parted; cheeks sunken – upon sensing the unexpected burst of urine soaking into her costume.
Oh Rao, thought Supergirl, why does this keep happening? Crossing her legs, the Maid of Might desperately fought back the flow. Her face cringing, she turned back toward Alexis, fumbling her words in a bid to conceal her embarrassment, “what … what is she?”
“Human—that’s the problem.” Walking around the hologram, Alexis proceeded to explain, seemingly oblivious to the Maid of Might’s plight. Her hand gesticulating every point, like a conductor, worsening the young heroine’s discomfort with every mesmerizing twist and swirl.
“You see, even as we push the edge of human performance certain realities remain. Five-to-one: that’s the peak muscle to skeletal ratio. 20/9: is the absolute range of our vision. And, try as we might, a fifth of a second is the fastest reaction time that even Olympic-level athletes can hope to achieve.”
Without missing a beat, Alexis continued her science-laid symphony. “True, we can improve the density of bone. And, if we gut the uterus and ovaries and boost testosterone levels, we can get a woman down to about six percent body fat.”
Without it being said, Supergirl understood the “woman” in question was Amal.
“The thing is, no matter what we do, the five-to-one ratio remains. Broaden the shoulders to allow more muscle mass. Lengthen the limbs to increase throwing whip. Heck, we can even re-enforce the brow ridge to increase the brain’s resilience to trauma. But, as Amal learned last year, it’s not enough—not against you.”
With a sigh, Alexis re-focused on the hologram. “After her defeat, and subsequent incarceration, Amal was recruited by The Swarm. They’re the ones who turned her into this,” said Alexis, pointing with obvious disdain. “They’re the ones who broke her out and pumped her full of chemicals to make her into Riven.”
“And what about you,” snapped Supergirl. Imagining the horrors that Amal must have suffered. “You’re no angel. After all that you’ve done...don’t you dare play innocent.” With her face turning red, Supergirl craned her neck along with an accusatory finger towards Alexis. But, as she shifted her weight, her eyes unexpectantly bulged. A grunt escaping her lips, as her costume – slippery and wet – oozed into her vagina—hindering her ability to walk.
Indifferent to Supergirl’s anger, Alexis remained calm. Her cold eyes seemingly enthralled by the young heroine’s unexpected outburst. “I never said I was an angel. But if you want to know who really created Amal; take a long, hard look in the mirror.”
Supergirl jumped back, shocked by Alexis’ condescending tone.
It was now Alexis’ turn to get animated. “You have the power of a god. And yet, under your watch, Amal’s people were all but hunted to extinction? Chased up their sacred mountain, left to rot on the sole peak of that otherwise desolate land.”
Supergirl wanted to shout back. Her body tensing, preparing to scream, but deep down, she knew Alexis was right. With the tears in her eyes starting to show, all she could do was lower her head and turn away.
Alexis, however, wasn’t satisfied. Circling her prey, she dove in for the kill. “You know what pisses me off the most about you Supergirl? It’s your reluctance to get your hands dirty. You want everyone to admire you, but what have you really done to warrant a pedestal?
“Me, on the other hand.” said Alexis. Stretching out her arms. Her vanity on full display. “I’ve built a business empire. A woman in a man’s world. And yet, here I am – with no powers – crafting humanity’s future. No, revolutionizing it.” With a twirl, Alexis re-settled a cutting-gaze on the Girl of Steel. Her hand reaching out, playfully flipping up the young heroine’s skirt as she asked, “so, tell me, which one of us is the true super girl?”
With a gasp, Supergirl’s hands raced down. Gathering her skirt and pressing it against her crotch, her watery eyes trembling at the sight of Alexis’ growing smile.
-
-
“Well, well…a girl indeed.”
As Alexis’ laughter rung out, Supergirl was beyond humiliated. Her blush warming her cheeks. Wiping her tears, all she could think of was escape. But, as she looked up at the ceiling, the throbbing in her bladder fueled her insecurities.
“Washrooms are down the hall; to the left,” chuckled Alexis. The image of Supergirl’s stained costume – dripping and wet – sucking against her vagina, all but doubled her over.
Extending a hesitant arm into the air, Supergirl felt her costume tugging against her body, deepening her camel toe, as she blasted through the ceiling. Despite worries that she was leaving behind more than just a trail of debris, she was unable to look back—chased up into the sky by Alexis’ laughter and her own tear-filled screams.
To be continued ...
The comments help. Actually, they've been amazing. I would never have made it this far without the community's support. Seeing the response and knowing this story has an audience...well it means everything. Thank you all.
Here's the latest - ciao for now.
_____________________________
----------------------------------30---------------------------------
Images of Matron, The Swarm and, above of all, Riven flooded Supergirl’s mind. But as she peeled away from Alexis’ warm touch, desperate for respite, all she encountered were the screens. Shame washing her face from the barrage of sex-crazed clips that had, once again, begun flashing before her eyes.
Consumed with humiliation, Supergirl’s anger swelled. All she wanted was to defeat The Swarm. Nothing else mattered. Even if it meant working with Alexis Luthor. A woman, that only a few seconds ago, she had accused of masterminding the wanton destruction back on Pearl. But in a cruel turn of fate, her enemy had become a friend. How did things get so twisted? I’m supposed to stop the bad guys, not protect them. Spinning around to confront Alexis, the irony made her sick. But, in the moment, the Maid of Might knew that she had little choice. There was simply too much at stake.
“Tell me about Amal,” demanded Supergirl. Her irritation showing as she caught Alexis’ eyes sweeping up her toned legs.
“Don’t worry little birdie; I’m not into girls. Although,” said Alexis, with a teasing glance, “I'd be willing to make an exception for your tight ass. You know, less than five percent of women have the desired body type to be an international model—let alone possess the confidence recquired to pull off that sexy little number.”
As Supergirl’s discomfort grew, Alexis chuckled. “Relax Supergirl, like I said, I’m not the one trying to get into your panties.” Clasping her hands together, Alexis directed the Girl of Steel, with a quick nod, to follow her towards the center of the oval-shaped room. “That would be Amal. When I first met her, she all but worshiped you. Blessed with similar, ahem,…attributes, she practically was you. At least, she liked to think so.
“But what she couldn’t understand is that there are limits.” Without a pause, Alexis climbed over the unconscious guard—smirking as Supergirl elected to walk around the sprawled figure. “Surpassing those limits requires…well let me show you,” said Alexis, extending her hand. On cue, a click emanated from the ceiling, casting a life-like hologram out of the swirl of blue light.
It was Amal.
Supergirl felt her legs wobble at the sight of the woman’s armored abs. Her olive skin glistening, endowing the pixel-perfect copy of the villainess’ powerful frame with a shimmering hue.
True to life, the veins in Amal’s digital recreation popped, capturing her impossibly large muscles. The strength of her long legs, evident even beneath her military-styled khakis. While her green, sports bra struggled to contain her flawlessly-replicated breasts.
Supergirl could feel sweat forming on her forehead from the weight of the hologram’s hazel eyes—incisive and clear. But what caused the heroic beauty to frantically look away was the warmth spreading over her vulva. Her face instantly froze – lips parted; cheeks sunken – upon sensing the unexpected burst of urine soaking into her costume.
Oh Rao, thought Supergirl, why does this keep happening? Crossing her legs, the Maid of Might desperately fought back the flow. Her face cringing, she turned back toward Alexis, fumbling her words in a bid to conceal her embarrassment, “what … what is she?”
“Human—that’s the problem.” Walking around the hologram, Alexis proceeded to explain, seemingly oblivious to the Maid of Might’s plight. Her hand gesticulating every point, like a conductor, worsening the young heroine’s discomfort with every mesmerizing twist and swirl.
“You see, even as we push the edge of human performance certain realities remain. Five-to-one: that’s the peak muscle to skeletal ratio. 20/9: is the absolute range of our vision. And, try as we might, a fifth of a second is the fastest reaction time that even Olympic-level athletes can hope to achieve.”
Without missing a beat, Alexis continued her science-laid symphony. “True, we can improve the density of bone. And, if we gut the uterus and ovaries and boost testosterone levels, we can get a woman down to about six percent body fat.”
Without it being said, Supergirl understood the “woman” in question was Amal.
“The thing is, no matter what we do, the five-to-one ratio remains. Broaden the shoulders to allow more muscle mass. Lengthen the limbs to increase throwing whip. Heck, we can even re-enforce the brow ridge to increase the brain’s resilience to trauma. But, as Amal learned last year, it’s not enough—not against you.”
With a sigh, Alexis re-focused on the hologram. “After her defeat, and subsequent incarceration, Amal was recruited by The Swarm. They’re the ones who turned her into this,” said Alexis, pointing with obvious disdain. “They’re the ones who broke her out and pumped her full of chemicals to make her into Riven.”
“And what about you,” snapped Supergirl. Imagining the horrors that Amal must have suffered. “You’re no angel. After all that you’ve done...don’t you dare play innocent.” With her face turning red, Supergirl craned her neck along with an accusatory finger towards Alexis. But, as she shifted her weight, her eyes unexpectantly bulged. A grunt escaping her lips, as her costume – slippery and wet – oozed into her vagina—hindering her ability to walk.
Indifferent to Supergirl’s anger, Alexis remained calm. Her cold eyes seemingly enthralled by the young heroine’s unexpected outburst. “I never said I was an angel. But if you want to know who really created Amal; take a long, hard look in the mirror.”
Supergirl jumped back, shocked by Alexis’ condescending tone.
It was now Alexis’ turn to get animated. “You have the power of a god. And yet, under your watch, Amal’s people were all but hunted to extinction? Chased up their sacred mountain, left to rot on the sole peak of that otherwise desolate land.”
Supergirl wanted to shout back. Her body tensing, preparing to scream, but deep down, she knew Alexis was right. With the tears in her eyes starting to show, all she could do was lower her head and turn away.
Alexis, however, wasn’t satisfied. Circling her prey, she dove in for the kill. “You know what pisses me off the most about you Supergirl? It’s your reluctance to get your hands dirty. You want everyone to admire you, but what have you really done to warrant a pedestal?
“Me, on the other hand.” said Alexis. Stretching out her arms. Her vanity on full display. “I’ve built a business empire. A woman in a man’s world. And yet, here I am – with no powers – crafting humanity’s future. No, revolutionizing it.” With a twirl, Alexis re-settled a cutting-gaze on the Girl of Steel. Her hand reaching out, playfully flipping up the young heroine’s skirt as she asked, “so, tell me, which one of us is the true super girl?”
With a gasp, Supergirl’s hands raced down. Gathering her skirt and pressing it against her crotch, her watery eyes trembling at the sight of Alexis’ growing smile.
-
- Supergirl by June Brigman
- Supergirl.jpg (148.75 KiB) Viewed 22636 times
“Well, well…a girl indeed.”
As Alexis’ laughter rung out, Supergirl was beyond humiliated. Her blush warming her cheeks. Wiping her tears, all she could think of was escape. But, as she looked up at the ceiling, the throbbing in her bladder fueled her insecurities.
“Washrooms are down the hall; to the left,” chuckled Alexis. The image of Supergirl’s stained costume – dripping and wet – sucking against her vagina, all but doubled her over.
Extending a hesitant arm into the air, Supergirl felt her costume tugging against her body, deepening her camel toe, as she blasted through the ceiling. Despite worries that she was leaving behind more than just a trail of debris, she was unable to look back—chased up into the sky by Alexis’ laughter and her own tear-filled screams.
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 7 months ago, edited 21 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
Get Your Exxon
- Henchman
- Posts: 57
- Joined: 8 years ago
Damn, to bad Amal was not really there.
Though, Supergirl soiling herself, ooohhhh totally worth it. While the image is old it does the job. Wish we could actually see her bursting. Imagine Amal’s big arms squeezing the drops outta her.
Enough with the teasing already. I say strip Supergirl and put a diaper on her. Better yet a collar. Love the effort. Others should use images to.
Drippity Drip, can’t wait for more.
Though, Supergirl soiling herself, ooohhhh totally worth it. While the image is old it does the job. Wish we could actually see her bursting. Imagine Amal’s big arms squeezing the drops outta her.
Enough with the teasing already. I say strip Supergirl and put a diaper on her. Better yet a collar. Love the effort. Others should use images to.
Drippity Drip, can’t wait for more.
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Big thanks to both Exxon and Clyde for your comments. Glad you're both still enjoying the tale.
Unfortunately, I've decided to give the images a rest - at least for now. But don't worry Exx, Riven will be back.
Actually, for anyone still on the fence, this is a good time to catch up. From here, things should steam ahead.
Enjoy.
_____________________________
----------------------------------31---------------------------------
With its grid-iron skyscrapers – each taller than the last – Metropolis’ picturesque downtown was concentrated on an elongated peninsula. A narrow, finger-like strip of land, separated from its surrounding burrows by a pair of flowing rivers.
For those on the adjacent banks, these swerving waterway – that connected only at the tip, before flowing out into the waiting sea – were as much an economic as a physical barrier. A reminder to those hidden beneath the skyline’s looming shadows that God, while ever-present, prioritized certain prayers above others.
The city’s westside, in particular, was suffering from decades of neglect—its formerly bustling shores now dotted with abandoned warehouses and a who's who of organized crime. But, even this remnant of a bygone age was starting to undergo a renaissance.
Eager to escape the high, downtown costs, co-ops and artisanal hubs had been quick to flood the vacant, box-like buildings. In time, the cheap rents and low municipal taxes had also begun to attract more established institutions, the largest of which remained the Daily Planet.
Though struggling to retain its former influence, The Planet – with its tacky, copper-colored dome – was still the city’s largest newspaper. Even in the digital age, it remained a paragon of journalistic excellence, setting the standard with its enviable international readership.
Normally, Linda Danvers felt proud to walk these hallowed halls. But today…well, today hadn’t exactly been her best. Starting with the press conference in Washington D.C., she had endured what seemed like an endless cycle of humiliation. With the latest incident occurring but moments ago—hands frantically working to dry her crotch; hidden inside a washroom stall.
Even now, as she walked towards the elevators, her costume remained uncomfortably moist beneath her disguise. The soft fabric sticking to her vulva on one side and her black leggings on the other—prompting Linda to constantly inspect her lap to ensure that nothing unseemly was seeping through.
In truth, things could have been much worse. With her bladder bursting, she had arrived at The Planet with but seconds to spare. It’s like my body is working against me, thought Linda, shuttering at the recollection of the soiling she had narrowly averted.
Cramped and bloated, her period was ragging, causing her leggings to press uncomfortably against her waistline. The tight fabric wedging between her bum, highlighting the flawless curvature of her cheeks.
Her situation was becoming dire. I’m bleeding like a soldier. Already she was on her final tampon. And for the second time, in less than three hours, she needed to race home and switch into a fresh costume. In short, she felt like a child. All she wanted was to run away, but first she needed to speak with her editor.
Desperate for a win, Linda was determined to hold Alexis accountable for her crimes. She may not have been responsible for The Swarm, but her actions had been no less monstrous. Just thinking about what Alexis had done to Amal caused Linda’s blood to boil.
But, even as she approached the elevator, Linda couldn’t escape the woman's laughter. She could still hear Alexis’ condescending voice ringing in her ears, causing her jaw to tighten like her fists.
With a huff, Linda conveyed her irritation at the two men crowding the doors. They haven’t even pressed the button! Reaching between them, she met their unsolicited stares with a flash of annoyance. Their hungry eyes racing to take in the swell of her breasts, as she pressed the upward arrow.
Luckily for them, Linda remained fixated on Alexis. Her mind already framing her story—shaping the arguments she would use to convince Perry to green-light the piece. Stepping into the elevator, she felt a rush of energy. Gripped by a familiar writer’s high, she didn’t even notice that the two men had followed her in.
Stroking her chin, Linda couldn’t wait to share The Swarm’s findings with Oracle. She had actually never met her partner in crime. At least not in person. But they had become close in recent months. And now, finally, all their investigative work was bearing fruit. The best part was that Alexis, in her arrogance, had provided the missing piece. Confirming what they had both suspected all along: LexCorp was concealing funds.
Linda could already smell the front-page scoop. Greed, corruption it has it all. Upon picturing the headline, a smile spread across her face: Alexis Luthor’s tax free, billion-dollar slush fund revealed.
Beaming with excitement, Linda was drawn back to the men huddled over their phones in the corner. Unable to resist the urge to listen-in on their hushed giggles, she tilted her head—her anger instantly swelling.
The fat one was practically drooling. His voice modulating with every lust-filled groan. “Ooohhh, she’s ssssoooo smooth. Look there’s not a hair on her. Aaahhhh…I can almost see her pussy.”
Irritated, Linda shot them a hard look. Normally she wasn’t bothered by the misogyny of the newsroom. Men were constantly looking at porn, even at the office. But these two were way out of line. Even on a more "normal day," she wouldn’t tolerate this kind of behavior.
Stepping towards them, Linda squared her shoulders, opening her chest. “Gentlemen, this isn’t the place.” Her repulsion beaming as their wild eyes ignored her steely gaze; focusing instead on her long, shapely legs—delighted by the revealing stretch of her leggings and the form-hugging fit of her white shirt, tugging against her feminine curves.
It took everything she had to refrain from wiping away their lust-filled grins. A swift knee to the balls should do it. To think, she had caught them red handed and still they showed no shame. Instead, to her bafflement, they actually felt inclined to share their excitement. As if I would be interested in their smut.
And yet, as the nearest man held out his phone, Linda froze.
She couldn’t believe it; they had been ogling photos of her. Of Supergirl! Her skirt raised. While the underling blue fabric – dripping and wet – seeped between her lips—all but exposing her vagina.
Clasping her mouth, Linda was horrified. Her skin crawling; filled with disgust.
“There’s dozen’s,” said the fat man. His stubby fingers swiping across the screen, revealing multiple angles.
“Yeah, they’re all over the web,” explained the tall lanky one, his voice laced with excitement. Smacking his chapped lips, he extended his own phone. Linda’s eyes instantly shook with fright. For there, in the center of his screen, was a close-up of her breast—her pink, perky nipple clearly visible though the slit in her costume. “The Swarm just released this batch. Apparently, they were taken by victims of the Honolulu missile.”
With a laugh, the fat man added, “power of the cloud.” His elbow digging into his friend’s ribs “Not a bad way to go, if you ask me.”
Before Linda could protest, the elevator doors opened.
Sensing her anger, the two men hurried past. The bulges in their pants clearly visible as they exited with one final glance. “Sorry, no time to chat; breaking news and all,” chirped the fat one.
It was the last bit that left Linda paralyzed. Bracing herself against the elevator doors, her eyes looked out at the newsroom in disbelief.
Breaking news indeed. On every screen, near-naked images of Supergirl were flashing. As far as Linda could see, reporters – people she called friends – were gawking at the TV’s. Some making lewd remarks, while others barked orders in an effort to coordinate the Planet’s coverage.
Ignoring the howls of excitement ringing around her, Linda stormed down the central passage. Barely able to contain her rage, she dulled her senses to the exploding chaos. Doing her best to filter out the endless stream of profanity: the plethora of second-rate jokes and semi-pithy remarks about Supergirl’s exposed breasts and the all too predictable eye-rolling puns regarding her S.
She couldn’t believe the press had turned on her—on Supergirl! It’s like they want me to fail, huffed Linda, bursting into Perry’s office.
Well, she wasn’t going to allow it. The Swarm, Alexis…they had all had their fun. It was time to set the record straight.
“Perry! We need to talk.”
As if expecting her, Perry White beckoned Linda to approach, waving her towards his desk.
The voice that welcomed her, however, was female.
“Ah, Danvers…glad you could join us.”
Linda spun around. But it wasn’t the video camera inching towards her face that startled her—Bin did that on her own, with her customary smile and circle-like wave.
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 18 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
A lot of nice secondary humiliation in this chapter, showing the effects of Supergirl's embarrassing run-ins with both Alexis and the Swarm. I look forward to more as well as an uptick in the action of Supergirl facing her opponents directly. Fun stuff to read, girlofsteel.
What he said. Scene is nicely set for a showdown.DrDominator9 wrote: ↑4 years agoA lot of nice secondary humiliation in this chapter, showing the effects of Supergirl's embarrassing run-ins with both Alexis and the Swarm. I look forward to more as well as an uptick in the action of Supergirl facing her opponents directly. Fun stuff to read, girlofsteel.
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Just want to give a big thanks to Dr. D, Clyde and Masmune for your comments—super appreciated.
As I finished this latest bit, it occurred to me that there's a version of this story that hypothetically could have started here—with this chapter.
Which caused me to question whether I've gotten this whole thing wrong. Should the formula really just be Supergirl + villain = humiliation, the end?
Does this genre have an appetite for a slow burn or is it purely a mad dash, to well..."the good parts"?
I'd love to hear what people think?
Oh...and hope you enjoy - ciao for now.
_____________________________
----------------------------------32---------------------------------
The camera looked huge in Bin’s child-like hands.
“Hope you don’t mind” said the petite reporter, working the focus. “Need to test this thing before hitting the streets. Public reacts to Supergirl’s disgrace…you know, that sort to thing.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve…,” snapped Linda, “after that stunt you pulled with the general.” While Linda couldn’t prove it, she had no doubt that Bin was working with The Swarm. From the start, she had been at the center of the day’s troubles. No, the catalyst thought Linda, her face twisting with rage.
“It’s called journalism Danvers. You’d know if you’d actually practiced it,” replied Bin, even as Linda brushed away the lens with a huff. “Oh …don’t be upset princess, just because your hero has turned out to be a slut.”
Suddenly, wary of the petite reporter’s presence, Linda slowed her pace. Her blue eyes narrowing, scanning the large, rectangular room for signs of trouble, even while subconsciously touching her stomach. Squirming from the tightness of her leggings, she was grateful for the opportunity to adjust her waistband and hopefully, with a bit of luck, her burgeoning camel toe.
Nestled in a corner, Perry’s office was bathed in natural light. The glare amplified by the numerous awards that hung, like paintings, on the otherwise sparse walls. The large, wooden desk, where Perry sat beckoning her over, was located on the far side of the entrance. In between, lay a worn, leather couch. And a small circular garbage can, with crumpled pieces of paper littered around it.
Perry’s aim still hasn’t improved mused Linda. But before she could resume her advance Bin, once again, began circling. Her buzzing amplifying Linda’s growing headache. Resting her head in her hand, Linda attempted to push back the pain. But Bin’s endless questioning only caused the room to spin faster and faster.
“I didn’t see you on the plane.” Softening her voice Bin feigned concern, “I was worried that you’d be trapped in D.C. Everything was just so hectic. Tell me, how did you manage to arrive?”
With every sarcastic word, Linda’s blood boiled.
“No matter,” teased Bin, relishing Linda’s unease. “The important thing is that you’re here.” Still working the camera, Bin began circling ever closer to her prey. She wasn’t done playing…not yet.
“I mean, who could blame you; following Supergirl’s sex-crazed display I too needed some alone time.” Raising and eyebrow Bin sharpened her voice. “Tell me, was that you I heard in the washroom.”
Bin greeted Linda’s advance with a calculated smile. The stink of her breath washing over her young adversary’s face, fogging her glasses. Despite Linda’s athletic build, Bin held her ground. Elevating onto her tip toes, while simultaneously using her words to chop her target down. “Look at you, all flushed and heated. Did I hurt your feelings?”
Such was Linda’s anger that she didn’t even notice her phone vibrating. All she had to do was breathe, and Bin would be flung across the room. Or better yet, out the window. The thought of dangling the venomous woman in the air by an ankle; wrangling a confession out of her, instantly filled Linda with warmth.
-
-
Wise to Bin’s game, the young reporter pushed back the noise clouding her mind. Just like back at the Pentagon, Bin was throwing up shadows. She’s trying to get me to lose focus. Steadying her steely gaze, Linda could feel her confidence returning. Determined to expose Bin, she replied in a slow and deliberate tone, “you’re pathetic.”
With his two, star reporters verging on blows, Perry stepped in. “That’s enough!” His baritone voice bouncing off the walls as he ripped off his glasses and flung them onto his desk. “You’re both professionals, act like it.”
“But Perry—”
“I said that’s enough, Linda.”
Without looking, Linda could feel Bin’s grin. But it wasn’t until Perry shot out his arms, directing her towards the scattered photos on his desk that Linda’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t have to say it. The images spoke for themselves.
“'Supergirl’s Shame' that’s our headline.”
Perry’s words hit Linda harder than any punch. In recent months, the long-time editor and chief of the Daily Planet had become, some-what, of a mentor.
Even during the early days, when she struggled to find her voice, he was the one who pushed her to develop her writing. Mercilessly tearing apart her ledes; tightening her nut graphs and circling every spelling error with his infamous red pen.
It had taken time, but Linda had come to recognize the kindness beneath Perry’s gruff exterior. Often disheveled and unshaved it wasn’t unusual to see a coffee stain or two on his shirt, especially when he was in the middle of a tough edit. Grumbling in displeasure as he battled his number one foe—bullshit.
In short, there was no one Linda respected more in the newsroom. Whenever she was stuck or in need of advice, she knew she could turn to Perry.
That’s why she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. From the beginning, Perry had championed Supergirl’s heroics. “What do you mean?” she pouted. Her arms shooting out to her sides in protest. “This…this isn’t her chief,” pleaded Linda. “We…we can’t run this; it’ll ruin Supergirl!”
“Damn, right,” said Bin. The battle won, the petite reporter turned—camera still in hand. “Time to film some streeters,” she gloated, her bloodshot eyes redder than normal. “Metropolis reacts to Supergirl’s downfall. I’m telling you boss, Supergirl was squealing like a pig… her pussy wetter than a mop…isn’t that right Danvers?”
Without giving Linda a chance to respond, Bin plowed on. “Fallen idol. Ha…this stuff writes itself. Guess this means you won’t be working on any more LexCorp pieces for a while.”
Glancing at Perry, Linda was shocked to see him nodding in agreement.
“Supergirl is the bigger story,” insisted Perry.
“But…but…”
“Oh, buy a clue Danvers,” interrupted Bin. “No one cares about tax avoidance. It’s water to fish. It may be immoral but that doesn’t make it illegal. Plus, it doesn’t sell. Now Supergirl’s debauchery…well that’s front-page shit.”
Linda hadn’t realized the depth of her predicament until now. Her eyes bulging, taking in the images of her raised skirt – her costume drenched in her fluids, slithering into her vagina – she finally realized how far she’d fallen. Rao… I do look like a whore.
She had to stop this. Whatever it took, she had to convince Perry that Supergirl was being set up. And that meant confronting Bin. Reaching out with her hand, Linda grabbed the petite reporter by the shoulder and yelled, “You’re doing this!”
As expected, Bin greeted Linda with a smile. “Is that desperation I smell,” gleefully replied the petite reporter. Her eyes blinking wildly as they raced down Linda’s toned body.
But it wasn’t until Bin teased, “You gonna tend to that,” that Linda’s heart began to pound. Her jaw dropping as she realized where Bin’s focus had shifted. Suddenly, Linda could feel the moist fabric of her costume. Her mind frantic, racing like the sweat rolling down her face – perilously hanging from the tip of her nose – as she held her breath and nervously cast her eyes upon her crotch.
Thank Rao.
A swell of relief washed over Linda. Her sunken cheeks vibrating along with her exhale. Filled with elation, she forgot about her costume’s slippage. And yet, a nagging thought lingered. Why did—my phone! That’s what Bin was referring to.
Linda had completely forgotten about the device in her hand. Flustered, she hurriedly stepped aside, thankful for the distraction.
The message appeared to be from Oracle. She must have learned about The Swarm’s findings. Having missed the original text, her phone was now buzzing intermittently. Wait, thought Linda, reading the message from the beginning…this can’t be right.
The sound of screams caused Linda to swivel. Wraiths were rappelling into the building, descending from the roof and crashing through the windows.
Cursing her decision to dull her senses, Linda instinctively turned. Grabbing the front of her shirt, she prepared to sprint for the exit.
Except—Riven was already there.
To be continued ...
As I finished this latest bit, it occurred to me that there's a version of this story that hypothetically could have started here—with this chapter.
Which caused me to question whether I've gotten this whole thing wrong. Should the formula really just be Supergirl + villain = humiliation, the end?
Does this genre have an appetite for a slow burn or is it purely a mad dash, to well..."the good parts"?
I'd love to hear what people think?
Oh...and hope you enjoy - ciao for now.
_____________________________
----------------------------------32---------------------------------
The camera looked huge in Bin’s child-like hands.
“Hope you don’t mind” said the petite reporter, working the focus. “Need to test this thing before hitting the streets. Public reacts to Supergirl’s disgrace…you know, that sort to thing.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve…,” snapped Linda, “after that stunt you pulled with the general.” While Linda couldn’t prove it, she had no doubt that Bin was working with The Swarm. From the start, she had been at the center of the day’s troubles. No, the catalyst thought Linda, her face twisting with rage.
“It’s called journalism Danvers. You’d know if you’d actually practiced it,” replied Bin, even as Linda brushed away the lens with a huff. “Oh …don’t be upset princess, just because your hero has turned out to be a slut.”
Suddenly, wary of the petite reporter’s presence, Linda slowed her pace. Her blue eyes narrowing, scanning the large, rectangular room for signs of trouble, even while subconsciously touching her stomach. Squirming from the tightness of her leggings, she was grateful for the opportunity to adjust her waistband and hopefully, with a bit of luck, her burgeoning camel toe.
Nestled in a corner, Perry’s office was bathed in natural light. The glare amplified by the numerous awards that hung, like paintings, on the otherwise sparse walls. The large, wooden desk, where Perry sat beckoning her over, was located on the far side of the entrance. In between, lay a worn, leather couch. And a small circular garbage can, with crumpled pieces of paper littered around it.
Perry’s aim still hasn’t improved mused Linda. But before she could resume her advance Bin, once again, began circling. Her buzzing amplifying Linda’s growing headache. Resting her head in her hand, Linda attempted to push back the pain. But Bin’s endless questioning only caused the room to spin faster and faster.
“I didn’t see you on the plane.” Softening her voice Bin feigned concern, “I was worried that you’d be trapped in D.C. Everything was just so hectic. Tell me, how did you manage to arrive?”
With every sarcastic word, Linda’s blood boiled.
“No matter,” teased Bin, relishing Linda’s unease. “The important thing is that you’re here.” Still working the camera, Bin began circling ever closer to her prey. She wasn’t done playing…not yet.
“I mean, who could blame you; following Supergirl’s sex-crazed display I too needed some alone time.” Raising and eyebrow Bin sharpened her voice. “Tell me, was that you I heard in the washroom.”
Bin greeted Linda’s advance with a calculated smile. The stink of her breath washing over her young adversary’s face, fogging her glasses. Despite Linda’s athletic build, Bin held her ground. Elevating onto her tip toes, while simultaneously using her words to chop her target down. “Look at you, all flushed and heated. Did I hurt your feelings?”
Such was Linda’s anger that she didn’t even notice her phone vibrating. All she had to do was breathe, and Bin would be flung across the room. Or better yet, out the window. The thought of dangling the venomous woman in the air by an ankle; wrangling a confession out of her, instantly filled Linda with warmth.
-
- Supergirl by Gary Frank
- Supergirl.jpg (177.39 KiB) Viewed 21941 times
Wise to Bin’s game, the young reporter pushed back the noise clouding her mind. Just like back at the Pentagon, Bin was throwing up shadows. She’s trying to get me to lose focus. Steadying her steely gaze, Linda could feel her confidence returning. Determined to expose Bin, she replied in a slow and deliberate tone, “you’re pathetic.”
With his two, star reporters verging on blows, Perry stepped in. “That’s enough!” His baritone voice bouncing off the walls as he ripped off his glasses and flung them onto his desk. “You’re both professionals, act like it.”
“But Perry—”
“I said that’s enough, Linda.”
Without looking, Linda could feel Bin’s grin. But it wasn’t until Perry shot out his arms, directing her towards the scattered photos on his desk that Linda’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t have to say it. The images spoke for themselves.
“'Supergirl’s Shame' that’s our headline.”
Perry’s words hit Linda harder than any punch. In recent months, the long-time editor and chief of the Daily Planet had become, some-what, of a mentor.
Even during the early days, when she struggled to find her voice, he was the one who pushed her to develop her writing. Mercilessly tearing apart her ledes; tightening her nut graphs and circling every spelling error with his infamous red pen.
It had taken time, but Linda had come to recognize the kindness beneath Perry’s gruff exterior. Often disheveled and unshaved it wasn’t unusual to see a coffee stain or two on his shirt, especially when he was in the middle of a tough edit. Grumbling in displeasure as he battled his number one foe—bullshit.
In short, there was no one Linda respected more in the newsroom. Whenever she was stuck or in need of advice, she knew she could turn to Perry.
That’s why she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. From the beginning, Perry had championed Supergirl’s heroics. “What do you mean?” she pouted. Her arms shooting out to her sides in protest. “This…this isn’t her chief,” pleaded Linda. “We…we can’t run this; it’ll ruin Supergirl!”
“Damn, right,” said Bin. The battle won, the petite reporter turned—camera still in hand. “Time to film some streeters,” she gloated, her bloodshot eyes redder than normal. “Metropolis reacts to Supergirl’s downfall. I’m telling you boss, Supergirl was squealing like a pig… her pussy wetter than a mop…isn’t that right Danvers?”
Without giving Linda a chance to respond, Bin plowed on. “Fallen idol. Ha…this stuff writes itself. Guess this means you won’t be working on any more LexCorp pieces for a while.”
Glancing at Perry, Linda was shocked to see him nodding in agreement.
“Supergirl is the bigger story,” insisted Perry.
“But…but…”
“Oh, buy a clue Danvers,” interrupted Bin. “No one cares about tax avoidance. It’s water to fish. It may be immoral but that doesn’t make it illegal. Plus, it doesn’t sell. Now Supergirl’s debauchery…well that’s front-page shit.”
Linda hadn’t realized the depth of her predicament until now. Her eyes bulging, taking in the images of her raised skirt – her costume drenched in her fluids, slithering into her vagina – she finally realized how far she’d fallen. Rao… I do look like a whore.
She had to stop this. Whatever it took, she had to convince Perry that Supergirl was being set up. And that meant confronting Bin. Reaching out with her hand, Linda grabbed the petite reporter by the shoulder and yelled, “You’re doing this!”
As expected, Bin greeted Linda with a smile. “Is that desperation I smell,” gleefully replied the petite reporter. Her eyes blinking wildly as they raced down Linda’s toned body.
But it wasn’t until Bin teased, “You gonna tend to that,” that Linda’s heart began to pound. Her jaw dropping as she realized where Bin’s focus had shifted. Suddenly, Linda could feel the moist fabric of her costume. Her mind frantic, racing like the sweat rolling down her face – perilously hanging from the tip of her nose – as she held her breath and nervously cast her eyes upon her crotch.
Thank Rao.
A swell of relief washed over Linda. Her sunken cheeks vibrating along with her exhale. Filled with elation, she forgot about her costume’s slippage. And yet, a nagging thought lingered. Why did—my phone! That’s what Bin was referring to.
Linda had completely forgotten about the device in her hand. Flustered, she hurriedly stepped aside, thankful for the distraction.
The message appeared to be from Oracle. She must have learned about The Swarm’s findings. Having missed the original text, her phone was now buzzing intermittently. Wait, thought Linda, reading the message from the beginning…this can’t be right.
- Oracle: Get out. Swarm is coming.
The sound of screams caused Linda to swivel. Wraiths were rappelling into the building, descending from the roof and crashing through the windows.
Cursing her decision to dull her senses, Linda instinctively turned. Grabbing the front of her shirt, she prepared to sprint for the exit.
Except—Riven was already there.
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 7 months ago, edited 12 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Still wonderful. Still captivating. Still sexy and provocative! Still terrific writing. Not sure why you're even having doubts on this story: it's great!
Yes, absolutely agree.DrDominator9 wrote: ↑4 years agoStill wonderful. Still captivating. Still sexy and provocative! Still terrific writing. Not sure why you're even having doubts on this story: it's great!
-
Get Your Exxon
- Henchman
- Posts: 57
- Joined: 8 years ago
Couldn’t agree more with comments. Story is lit. The only way you could screw this up is by putting our girl in pants. Thankfully Riven has other plans.
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Wow, thank you for the (amazing, wonderful, encouraging) comments.
It's hard finding time for this and your support ...well, it helps make the pain worthwhile.
For better or worse, here's the next part:
_____________________________
----------------------------------33---------------------------------
Linda’s heart jumped.
She could feel it flip-flopping—hammering against her chest.
The wraiths had taken control of the entire floor. Their black cloaks flaring as they swarmed out from the elevators and crashed through the windows.
All the windows.
“Get down,” shouted Linda. Sensing a high-pitched burst, she spun just as the glass behind her shattered.
Shielding her eyes, the wraiths rappelled into the office. Guns drawn—not towards her but at Perry. Before Linda could react, the wraiths already had him by the neck. The pain from the gun pressed against his temple forcing him to scream.
“Let him go,” demanded Linda.
But it wasn’t just Perry she had to worry about.
Lucy, Cutter, James – all her friends and colleagues – had been rounded-up. In total, there were more than 20 staffers with guns directed at their heads. Tears streaking their cheeks as the wraiths escorted them into the spacious office to form a circle around Linda.
Everyone she knew – cared for – was suddenly in jeopardy.
There’s no way I can free them all, thought Linda. Even at full speed, they’re too far apart. The guns too close…I might not make it.
Clenching her fists, Linda turned, directing her anger towards the woman responsible.
“Poor thing, trapped like a deer in headlights.”
Riven’s voice boomed over Linda, rattling her bones. The ripped beauty was even larger than she remembered. Her 5’11” frame bulging with muscular perfection. And yet, even as her veins popped, snaking up her exposed arms and sculpted belly, the villainess’ curves remained unquestionably feminine.
Her olive skin straining, highlighting every muscle as she spoke. “Did you know that the average human brain races through 2,500 thoughts per hour? That’s over 40 a minute. I wonder, how many are racing through your pretty little skull?”
Linda could feel her mind slipping—consumed with doubt. They know who I am.
And yet, the villainess halted her advance. Her gaze rotating to the side in tandem with the silver mask extended in her hand.
Bin’s outstretched arms eagerly accepted the gift. Her bloodshot eyes disappearing behind the screaming visage with a pressurized hiss. Another wraith had joined the ranks…except, instead of a cloak and a gun, Bin’s camera would serve as her weapon.
Unsure of what to do, Linda hesitated. She could feel the slick sweat forming across her brow. Raising her hands, she slowly prepared to tear off her shirt and spring into action. But as Riven’s gaze returned, her confidence waned.
Despite her own athletic build, Linda’s lean muscles paled in comparison to her foe’s larger, denser physique. Riven’s two-inch height advantage was especially pronounced as she began to circle. “So, you’re Linda Danvers.”
Like a predator, Riven’s eyes swept up and down. Taking in Linda’s slender frame, the muscle-clad beauty converted her scowl into a smile. “I’m a big fan. Supergirl bias aside. Tell me, how long does it usually take her to show?”
She’s toying with me. Daring me to expose my identity.
As she passed behind Linda, the villainess’ pace slowed to a crawl. “Does she take seconds? Minutes? I’m dying to get reacquainted.”
With Riven’s fingers brushing the small hairs on the back of her neck, Linda’s heart began to thrum. Averting her gaze, the young reporter could feel her legs wobbling with every whisper. “You know, with a body like yours, you belong in front of the cameras; not behind, sitting at some desk.”
Suddenly, Linda’s eyes bulged. Her breath catching in her throat. Startled by Riven’s hold—not on her neck, but her bum.
“Stop that,” demanded the young reporter. Swiveling, she batted away the woman’s clawing touch.
“There she is,” beamed Riven. “I knew you had fight in you.”
Despite her foe’s challenge, Linda was stripped of her fury by the distinct click of metal.
Horrified by the pale faces of her friends, she slowly began to back away. Relaxing her fists – she spun left, then right – desperately pleading for the gunmen to lower their weapons.
“What’s the matter hero?” chided Riven, refusing to let Linda slip away. Sneaking up behind her, the muscular woman wrapped her hands around the young reporter’s waist, pressing her tight.
With the muscular beauty’s crotch grinding against her bum, Linda’s rage gathered like a typhoon. Twisting and turning, she fought to break free. Grabbing the woman’s thick wrists, she began prying them away from her stomach.
“Careful pet,” warned Riven, taking a playful bite of Linda’s ear. “The world is watching.”
A look of horror flashed across Linda’s face. Oh Rao she thought, grasping Riven’s meaning upon catching her reflection in Bin’s camera. But it was the blinking red light that worried her. With a gasp, she turned towards the newsroom floor. Just as she had feared, her face was on every screen. Not Supergirl’s but Linda’s. We’re live.
Overwhelmed, Linda’s mind descended into chaos. Halley tried to warn me. But I was too arrogant to listen. From the beginning, The Swarm have been setting me up. Chipping away at everything I hold dear.
But, despite all her might, she felt powerless. Even as her friends screamed, there was nothing she could do. Except beg. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Of course, you will,” said Riven. Her hands, once again, roaming across Linda’s stomach—exploring the smooth feel of her abs. “Until Supergirl arrives, you’re mine.”
Until Supergirl arrives? Was it possible that Riven didn’t actually know her identity? Or was this another trick? Suddenly, Linda wasn’t so sure. Her problems at the press conference began only after she had appeared as Supergirl. Maybe, she could still get out of this. Maybe all she had to do was play along.
Still, there was only so much she could take. Already she was squirming, desperate to contain the muscle-clad beauty’s unwanted touch. The woman’s ravenous fingers riding her natural curves like a track—skirting dangerously south. Grunting frantically from the effort, Linda began to inch the woman’s hands away.
“You obviously work out,” stated Riven.
Linda instantly took the hint. Relieved to feel the woman’s attention shifting, she eased her resistance, surrendering control of her hips.
“You know, I always wanted to be a reporter.” Riven’s tone was playful, yet menacing. “To explore hidden truths. To question the established narrative. For instance, how does a desk jockey, who spends her days writing stories, have the body of a fitness model?”
While concerned by Riven’s words, it was the woman’s hands that troubled Linda. Moving up her sides, they began squeezing her lats. Her foe was no longer holding back. Consumed with panic, Linda started to twist and turn, desperate to get free.
She’s strong. I…I can’t breathe.
“The second thing that bothers me,” continued Riven. Her hands fanning out, threatening to grab hold of Linda’s breasts. “Is that you – unlike your friends – appear immune to my power.
Distracted by the woman's clawing fingers – wrapping and digging into her breasts – Linda was too busy protesting to catch on. With her adrenaline racing, she snapped her head back, grinding her perfect, white teeth she angrily shouted, "let go!."
Secret Identity be damned, she was putting an end to this charade. Locking her gaze on Riven, she grabbed hold of the woman’s wrists and prepared to break free.
But as the seconds past, Linda remained paralyzed. Even as Riven continued to juggle her breasts, her expression was frozen, absorbed by the colonel’s deathly stare.
Surrounded by blood, the villainess’ eyes appeared to explode. Flowing like mist, her vibrant hazel irises were laced with hues of sparking orange and yellow.
While Linda seemingly remained immune, her friends were already flushed and feverish. Clear mucus gushing from their noses, spilling into their mouths and down past their chins. Their eyes then rolled up into the heads. A second later, their limbs began to jerk. Some lost control of their bladders, while others began gnawing on their lips. Their teeth chattering like insects, ripping into their own flesh.
The virus. It’s her!
To be continued ...
It's hard finding time for this and your support ...well, it helps make the pain worthwhile.
For better or worse, here's the next part:
_____________________________
----------------------------------33---------------------------------
Linda’s heart jumped.
She could feel it flip-flopping—hammering against her chest.
The wraiths had taken control of the entire floor. Their black cloaks flaring as they swarmed out from the elevators and crashed through the windows.
All the windows.
“Get down,” shouted Linda. Sensing a high-pitched burst, she spun just as the glass behind her shattered.
Shielding her eyes, the wraiths rappelled into the office. Guns drawn—not towards her but at Perry. Before Linda could react, the wraiths already had him by the neck. The pain from the gun pressed against his temple forcing him to scream.
“Let him go,” demanded Linda.
But it wasn’t just Perry she had to worry about.
Lucy, Cutter, James – all her friends and colleagues – had been rounded-up. In total, there were more than 20 staffers with guns directed at their heads. Tears streaking their cheeks as the wraiths escorted them into the spacious office to form a circle around Linda.
Everyone she knew – cared for – was suddenly in jeopardy.
There’s no way I can free them all, thought Linda. Even at full speed, they’re too far apart. The guns too close…I might not make it.
Clenching her fists, Linda turned, directing her anger towards the woman responsible.
“Poor thing, trapped like a deer in headlights.”
Riven’s voice boomed over Linda, rattling her bones. The ripped beauty was even larger than she remembered. Her 5’11” frame bulging with muscular perfection. And yet, even as her veins popped, snaking up her exposed arms and sculpted belly, the villainess’ curves remained unquestionably feminine.
Her olive skin straining, highlighting every muscle as she spoke. “Did you know that the average human brain races through 2,500 thoughts per hour? That’s over 40 a minute. I wonder, how many are racing through your pretty little skull?”
Linda could feel her mind slipping—consumed with doubt. They know who I am.
And yet, the villainess halted her advance. Her gaze rotating to the side in tandem with the silver mask extended in her hand.
Bin’s outstretched arms eagerly accepted the gift. Her bloodshot eyes disappearing behind the screaming visage with a pressurized hiss. Another wraith had joined the ranks…except, instead of a cloak and a gun, Bin’s camera would serve as her weapon.
Unsure of what to do, Linda hesitated. She could feel the slick sweat forming across her brow. Raising her hands, she slowly prepared to tear off her shirt and spring into action. But as Riven’s gaze returned, her confidence waned.
Despite her own athletic build, Linda’s lean muscles paled in comparison to her foe’s larger, denser physique. Riven’s two-inch height advantage was especially pronounced as she began to circle. “So, you’re Linda Danvers.”
Like a predator, Riven’s eyes swept up and down. Taking in Linda’s slender frame, the muscle-clad beauty converted her scowl into a smile. “I’m a big fan. Supergirl bias aside. Tell me, how long does it usually take her to show?”
She’s toying with me. Daring me to expose my identity.
As she passed behind Linda, the villainess’ pace slowed to a crawl. “Does she take seconds? Minutes? I’m dying to get reacquainted.”
With Riven’s fingers brushing the small hairs on the back of her neck, Linda’s heart began to thrum. Averting her gaze, the young reporter could feel her legs wobbling with every whisper. “You know, with a body like yours, you belong in front of the cameras; not behind, sitting at some desk.”
Suddenly, Linda’s eyes bulged. Her breath catching in her throat. Startled by Riven’s hold—not on her neck, but her bum.
“Stop that,” demanded the young reporter. Swiveling, she batted away the woman’s clawing touch.
“There she is,” beamed Riven. “I knew you had fight in you.”
Despite her foe’s challenge, Linda was stripped of her fury by the distinct click of metal.
Horrified by the pale faces of her friends, she slowly began to back away. Relaxing her fists – she spun left, then right – desperately pleading for the gunmen to lower their weapons.
“What’s the matter hero?” chided Riven, refusing to let Linda slip away. Sneaking up behind her, the muscular woman wrapped her hands around the young reporter’s waist, pressing her tight.
With the muscular beauty’s crotch grinding against her bum, Linda’s rage gathered like a typhoon. Twisting and turning, she fought to break free. Grabbing the woman’s thick wrists, she began prying them away from her stomach.
“Careful pet,” warned Riven, taking a playful bite of Linda’s ear. “The world is watching.”
A look of horror flashed across Linda’s face. Oh Rao she thought, grasping Riven’s meaning upon catching her reflection in Bin’s camera. But it was the blinking red light that worried her. With a gasp, she turned towards the newsroom floor. Just as she had feared, her face was on every screen. Not Supergirl’s but Linda’s. We’re live.
Overwhelmed, Linda’s mind descended into chaos. Halley tried to warn me. But I was too arrogant to listen. From the beginning, The Swarm have been setting me up. Chipping away at everything I hold dear.
But, despite all her might, she felt powerless. Even as her friends screamed, there was nothing she could do. Except beg. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Of course, you will,” said Riven. Her hands, once again, roaming across Linda’s stomach—exploring the smooth feel of her abs. “Until Supergirl arrives, you’re mine.”
Until Supergirl arrives? Was it possible that Riven didn’t actually know her identity? Or was this another trick? Suddenly, Linda wasn’t so sure. Her problems at the press conference began only after she had appeared as Supergirl. Maybe, she could still get out of this. Maybe all she had to do was play along.
Still, there was only so much she could take. Already she was squirming, desperate to contain the muscle-clad beauty’s unwanted touch. The woman’s ravenous fingers riding her natural curves like a track—skirting dangerously south. Grunting frantically from the effort, Linda began to inch the woman’s hands away.
“You obviously work out,” stated Riven.
Linda instantly took the hint. Relieved to feel the woman’s attention shifting, she eased her resistance, surrendering control of her hips.
“You know, I always wanted to be a reporter.” Riven’s tone was playful, yet menacing. “To explore hidden truths. To question the established narrative. For instance, how does a desk jockey, who spends her days writing stories, have the body of a fitness model?”
While concerned by Riven’s words, it was the woman’s hands that troubled Linda. Moving up her sides, they began squeezing her lats. Her foe was no longer holding back. Consumed with panic, Linda started to twist and turn, desperate to get free.
She’s strong. I…I can’t breathe.
“The second thing that bothers me,” continued Riven. Her hands fanning out, threatening to grab hold of Linda’s breasts. “Is that you – unlike your friends – appear immune to my power.
Distracted by the woman's clawing fingers – wrapping and digging into her breasts – Linda was too busy protesting to catch on. With her adrenaline racing, she snapped her head back, grinding her perfect, white teeth she angrily shouted, "let go!."
Secret Identity be damned, she was putting an end to this charade. Locking her gaze on Riven, she grabbed hold of the woman’s wrists and prepared to break free.
But as the seconds past, Linda remained paralyzed. Even as Riven continued to juggle her breasts, her expression was frozen, absorbed by the colonel’s deathly stare.
Surrounded by blood, the villainess’ eyes appeared to explode. Flowing like mist, her vibrant hazel irises were laced with hues of sparking orange and yellow.
While Linda seemingly remained immune, her friends were already flushed and feverish. Clear mucus gushing from their noses, spilling into their mouths and down past their chins. Their eyes then rolled up into the heads. A second later, their limbs began to jerk. Some lost control of their bladders, while others began gnawing on their lips. Their teeth chattering like insects, ripping into their own flesh.
The virus. It’s her!
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 10 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Delicious sexual tension and menace, exquisitely laid out.
Too short! Gaaahh! You torturous witch! But thanks for the sampling. When's dinner served?
Too short! Gaaahh! You torturous witch! But thanks for the sampling. When's dinner served?
To explore hidden truths by ravenous fingers. To question the established narrative like is Supergirl all powerful, invulnerable, and above human weaknesses?
I for one am for tuning in and finding out the answers to these hard hitting and deep probing 'questions'!
Thanks GOS!
I for one am for tuning in and finding out the answers to these hard hitting and deep probing 'questions'!
Thanks GOS!
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Big thanks to all.
Clyde — You're a man of few words – just my type.
Dr. D — Sorry, the broom is staying out for one last update (see comments at end).
Ksire — Thanks for the laugh; I needed it. Definitely all hard-hitting from here.
On with the show:
_____________________________
----------------------------------34---------------------------------
“Enough!” shouted Linda. Thrusting her head back to smash her skull against Riven’s face.
Staggering back, the muscle-clad beauty instantly hollered—blood dripping from her nose.
Linda needed to act fast. Perry, Lucy, Cutter and Jimmy were already bending over, choking on the blood that filled their lungs; clogging their airways. Urged by the rasping breath of her friends, she swiveled to confront her hulking foe.
Clenching her fists, Linda stepped forward, looking to knock Riven out with a single blow. With luck, she'd even be able to use her momentum to “accidentally” stumble into Bin’s camera; persevering her identity.
There would be time enough to worry about the details. For now, all that mattered was saving her friends.
It took less than a second to disavow Linda of her fantasy.
She didn't notice it at first, but as she stared at the blood-stained cloth pressed against Riven's nose, her body went cold. My shirt!
Shifting her gaze down towards her chest, Linda confirmed her fears. Her trembling eyes illuminated by the all too familiar red and yellow S stretched flawlessly beneath the circular-shaped hole in her white top.
Licking her lips, the colonel smiled. She could still feel the soft warmth of the heroine’s breasts melting in her hands. For years, she had assumed that the Maid of Might’s gravity defiant curves came courtesy of a bra. To her delight, the only thing surrounding Supergirl’s perky tits had been her silky, form-hugging costume. Releasing a sensual moan, the villainess couldn’t wait to get her firm hands back around the young blonde’s pert flesh.
While her foe fantasized about the pleasures to come, Supergirl remained frozen in horror. Riven’s hands had torn open her shirt, revealing her secret to the world. As Bin’s lens zoomed in, Supergirl’s eyes trembled, struggling to come to terms with what had just transpired.
The Swarm was taking everything away. Her image, her identity and now…her friends. Perry! Lucy! Drawn to their screams, Supergirl shook free of the camera’s hold. One by one, her friends were falling like dominos—twisting and writhing as they collapsed onto the floor. She couldn’t believe the amount of blood gushing out from their mouths. There’s so much. If she didn’t act now, they too would be lost.
Linda had no choice; she knew what she needed to do. Stripping the remnants of her shirt from her body, the Maid of Might stepped towards Riven. Her secret revealed, there was no longer any point in pretending.
Without breaking her stride, the Girl of Steel pulled off her wig. Her fingers sweeping back her newly freed blonde locks. Having cast aside her glasses, she proceeded to tear off her leggings, revealing her luscious legs and bobbing skirt. As the last vestiges of Linda Danvers were carried away by the wind, only Supergirl, in all her glory, remained.
“You wanted me Riven. Well here I am.” As she shouted, the heroic beauty shot forward, tackling her muscle-clad foe. Her shoulder aiming squarely at the ouroboros inked across the hulking woman’s impossibly taut abs.
Upon impact, Supergirl wrapped her arms around Riven’s waist, securing her hold. Blasting into the air, she needed to get the villainess away from her friends. Finally, she would put an end to The Swarm. Finally, she would make this woman pay for all that she had done.
----------------------------------35---------------------------------
“I knew it.”
“Oh…come on.”
“What? You’re telling me with an ass like that you’re actually surprised. Bruh, please, it was obvious.”
Halley Garda did her best to block out Q-Ball and Reggie’s banter. Since arriving in Metropolis things had been hectic. Like they hadn’t already been crazy enough. Even before they had stepped off the plane, a chopper was revved and waiting.
They had arrived to track down The Swarm; instead, the team was now racing towards yet another hostage crisis. But, as they approached the Daily Planet, none of them – despite Q-Ball’s claims – could believe the chatter they were hearing. So, Linda Danvers is Supergirl. I guess it makes sense.
Looking over at Heath, Halley could tell that he too was nervous. And tired, she thought noting the dark bags under his eyes. Her fingers twitching, rattling the keys on her laptop, she wrestled with whether or not to reach out. To end the ridiculous silence that, following the morning’s press conference, had engulfed them.
“Hal.”
Halley was startled as Heath shifted towards her. She hadn’t expected him to talk.
“That signal you picked up, it’s still emanating from the Planet…isn’t it?”
Halley replied with a quick nod. He thinks it’s a trap. Fiddling with her ponytail, she conceded, he’s probably right.
“They knew Supergirl would be there,” said Heath. He could tell by the pull on her lips that she too was already thinking the same thing.
Locking eyes with Halley, Heath leaned closer. “I want you to hang back when we arrive.”
“What!?” shot Halley. “No way, you need me.”
Shaking his head, Heath insisted. “I need you to break that code. Reggie and I will scout ahead. You, Ana and Q-ball will guard the rear.
“But—”
“Hal, The Swarm have been a step ahead at every turn. Breaking their code could be the only way to bring them down.”
There was logic to what he was saying. While Ana had tactical experience, she was primarily a snipper. And, as the team’s coms expert, Q was better suited to the rear. Reggie, on the other hand, needed to get up close. His explosive expertise could prove vital in a pinch.
Still, Halley objected. Her delicate features hardening, in tandem with her tone. “You don’t need to protect me. We should stay together.”
“Protect you? Hal, you’re the toughest one here. Heck, we both know you’re the real leader. You’ve always been.”
Before Halley could protest, Heath flashed a comforting smile. “It’s okay, Hal.” Reaching out, to touch her shoulder, he could tell that she was stunned, struggling to accept the compliment.
“Good,” said Heath, as Halley reluctantly conceded. He had meant every word. She had seen the danger posed by The Swarm before anyone else—even Supergirl. Staring into her blue eyes, he felt his face warming, relieved to see her smiling back.
As silence followed, they both knew nothing more needed to be said. Their friendship would survive. But, as they looked down at the destruction surrounding the Daily Planet, they began to wonder whether the city would as well.
To be continued ...
_____________________________
So, from here on out, no more entrees (though – and here’s looking at you Dr. D, I think the audience has been well served. But I get the point).
To those craving full-on action, I promise, you'll get your fill.
My question is this: considering we’re at the climax, would folks prefer to keep updates as they are, or would a pause to allow me to deliver the whole thing in one reading be preferable?
Also, I’m thinking of putting Supergirl in pants – thoughts? Kidding, but if there are any special requests now would be ideal. No promises, but if it works, it works.
Clyde — You're a man of few words – just my type.
Dr. D — Sorry, the broom is staying out for one last update (see comments at end).
Ksire — Thanks for the laugh; I needed it. Definitely all hard-hitting from here.
On with the show:
_____________________________
----------------------------------34---------------------------------
“Enough!” shouted Linda. Thrusting her head back to smash her skull against Riven’s face.
Staggering back, the muscle-clad beauty instantly hollered—blood dripping from her nose.
Linda needed to act fast. Perry, Lucy, Cutter and Jimmy were already bending over, choking on the blood that filled their lungs; clogging their airways. Urged by the rasping breath of her friends, she swiveled to confront her hulking foe.
Clenching her fists, Linda stepped forward, looking to knock Riven out with a single blow. With luck, she'd even be able to use her momentum to “accidentally” stumble into Bin’s camera; persevering her identity.
There would be time enough to worry about the details. For now, all that mattered was saving her friends.
It took less than a second to disavow Linda of her fantasy.
She didn't notice it at first, but as she stared at the blood-stained cloth pressed against Riven's nose, her body went cold. My shirt!
Shifting her gaze down towards her chest, Linda confirmed her fears. Her trembling eyes illuminated by the all too familiar red and yellow S stretched flawlessly beneath the circular-shaped hole in her white top.
Licking her lips, the colonel smiled. She could still feel the soft warmth of the heroine’s breasts melting in her hands. For years, she had assumed that the Maid of Might’s gravity defiant curves came courtesy of a bra. To her delight, the only thing surrounding Supergirl’s perky tits had been her silky, form-hugging costume. Releasing a sensual moan, the villainess couldn’t wait to get her firm hands back around the young blonde’s pert flesh.
While her foe fantasized about the pleasures to come, Supergirl remained frozen in horror. Riven’s hands had torn open her shirt, revealing her secret to the world. As Bin’s lens zoomed in, Supergirl’s eyes trembled, struggling to come to terms with what had just transpired.
The Swarm was taking everything away. Her image, her identity and now…her friends. Perry! Lucy! Drawn to their screams, Supergirl shook free of the camera’s hold. One by one, her friends were falling like dominos—twisting and writhing as they collapsed onto the floor. She couldn’t believe the amount of blood gushing out from their mouths. There’s so much. If she didn’t act now, they too would be lost.
Linda had no choice; she knew what she needed to do. Stripping the remnants of her shirt from her body, the Maid of Might stepped towards Riven. Her secret revealed, there was no longer any point in pretending.
Without breaking her stride, the Girl of Steel pulled off her wig. Her fingers sweeping back her newly freed blonde locks. Having cast aside her glasses, she proceeded to tear off her leggings, revealing her luscious legs and bobbing skirt. As the last vestiges of Linda Danvers were carried away by the wind, only Supergirl, in all her glory, remained.
“You wanted me Riven. Well here I am.” As she shouted, the heroic beauty shot forward, tackling her muscle-clad foe. Her shoulder aiming squarely at the ouroboros inked across the hulking woman’s impossibly taut abs.
Upon impact, Supergirl wrapped her arms around Riven’s waist, securing her hold. Blasting into the air, she needed to get the villainess away from her friends. Finally, she would put an end to The Swarm. Finally, she would make this woman pay for all that she had done.
----------------------------------35---------------------------------
“I knew it.”
“Oh…come on.”
“What? You’re telling me with an ass like that you’re actually surprised. Bruh, please, it was obvious.”
Halley Garda did her best to block out Q-Ball and Reggie’s banter. Since arriving in Metropolis things had been hectic. Like they hadn’t already been crazy enough. Even before they had stepped off the plane, a chopper was revved and waiting.
They had arrived to track down The Swarm; instead, the team was now racing towards yet another hostage crisis. But, as they approached the Daily Planet, none of them – despite Q-Ball’s claims – could believe the chatter they were hearing. So, Linda Danvers is Supergirl. I guess it makes sense.
Looking over at Heath, Halley could tell that he too was nervous. And tired, she thought noting the dark bags under his eyes. Her fingers twitching, rattling the keys on her laptop, she wrestled with whether or not to reach out. To end the ridiculous silence that, following the morning’s press conference, had engulfed them.
“Hal.”
Halley was startled as Heath shifted towards her. She hadn’t expected him to talk.
“That signal you picked up, it’s still emanating from the Planet…isn’t it?”
Halley replied with a quick nod. He thinks it’s a trap. Fiddling with her ponytail, she conceded, he’s probably right.
“They knew Supergirl would be there,” said Heath. He could tell by the pull on her lips that she too was already thinking the same thing.
Locking eyes with Halley, Heath leaned closer. “I want you to hang back when we arrive.”
“What!?” shot Halley. “No way, you need me.”
Shaking his head, Heath insisted. “I need you to break that code. Reggie and I will scout ahead. You, Ana and Q-ball will guard the rear.
“But—”
“Hal, The Swarm have been a step ahead at every turn. Breaking their code could be the only way to bring them down.”
There was logic to what he was saying. While Ana had tactical experience, she was primarily a snipper. And, as the team’s coms expert, Q was better suited to the rear. Reggie, on the other hand, needed to get up close. His explosive expertise could prove vital in a pinch.
Still, Halley objected. Her delicate features hardening, in tandem with her tone. “You don’t need to protect me. We should stay together.”
“Protect you? Hal, you’re the toughest one here. Heck, we both know you’re the real leader. You’ve always been.”
Before Halley could protest, Heath flashed a comforting smile. “It’s okay, Hal.” Reaching out, to touch her shoulder, he could tell that she was stunned, struggling to accept the compliment.
“Good,” said Heath, as Halley reluctantly conceded. He had meant every word. She had seen the danger posed by The Swarm before anyone else—even Supergirl. Staring into her blue eyes, he felt his face warming, relieved to see her smiling back.
As silence followed, they both knew nothing more needed to be said. Their friendship would survive. But, as they looked down at the destruction surrounding the Daily Planet, they began to wonder whether the city would as well.
To be continued ...
_____________________________
So, from here on out, no more entrees (though – and here’s looking at you Dr. D, I think the audience has been well served. But I get the point).
To those craving full-on action, I promise, you'll get your fill.
My question is this: considering we’re at the climax, would folks prefer to keep updates as they are, or would a pause to allow me to deliver the whole thing in one reading be preferable?
Also, I’m thinking of putting Supergirl in pants – thoughts? Kidding, but if there are any special requests now would be ideal. No promises, but if it works, it works.
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 7 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
I'm grateful for whatever you choose to do, but I'd prefer keeping updates as they are and therefore no pause. (as it is I think I am wearing out the refresh button waiting to enjoy the next instalment.)
As for requests, I'm hoping the revolution will be televised with Supergirl's costume taking some damage.
As for requests, I'm hoping the revolution will be televised with Supergirl's costume taking some damage.
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Thanks Clyde. I'll work on the costume damage. And with a bit of luck I'll be able to scrounge up a camera or two.Clyde123 wrote: ↑4 years agoI'm grateful for whatever you choose to do, but I'd prefer keeping updates as they are and therefore no pause. (as it is I think I am wearing out the refresh button waiting to enjoy the next instalment.)
As for requests, I'm hoping the revolution will be televised with Supergirl's costume taking some damage.
Hang in there - update on the way.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Howdy folks,
Every chapter has its obstacles - this one especially.
Switching from set-up to fight mode proved challenging. Way more challenging that I expected. There's a different rhythm to a fight (in story terms: it feels like a structure within a structure), which was hard for me to unlock. Not sure I've (bad pun) hit it. But, at this point, I'm out of ideas on how to make it better so, for better or worse - voila:
_____________________________
----------------------------------36---------------------------------
With every twist and turn, Supergirl’s beach-waved locks lashed across her face. Her screams fueling her rage, propelling her frantic efforts to land a meaningful blow against her muscular foe.
But with the ground rapidly approaching, the heroic blonde knew that all she really had to do was hit the brakes.
-
-
Sure enough, Riven slammed against the asphalt. Her powerful body tearing into the concrete—forming a trench, as gravity sent her tumbling across the vacant lot.
Although her clothes were tattered, the villainess instantly managed to spring back onto her feet. Her movements unhindered by the light bruises that permeated her olive skin. Spitting dirt from her mouth, the hulking beauty locked eyes upon the Girl of Steel; wiped her lips and, with a flick of her wrists, signaled for more.
How’s she still standing? thought Supergirl. Her cape and skirt wrapping her slender frame, as she landed with a gentle bounce. That fall…we were fifty stories up! Glancing over her shoulder, towards the shattered windows of the Daily Planet, she easily spotted Perry’s corner office. As she stared, she could hear Alexis Luthor’s voice in her head, warning her: whatever she may have once been, Amal is no longer human.
Wincing at the recollection of Alexis’ gruesome description of Amal’s transformation into Riven – elongated limbs; augmented muscle mass; increased bone density – Supergirl continued to stare in an equal mix of both disbelief and admiration at her muscle-packed foe. Rao, the pain she must have endured to become this…this monstrosity.
And yet, despite the web of pulsating veins coursing throughout the villainess’ chiseled frame, Riven still retained elements of her femininity. Her smooth skin and curvy features, endowing her with a potent mix of both beauty and beast. A walking biological weapon from whose every pore seeped a deadly virus. A virus that had already claimed the lives of thousands. Perhaps millions, if I don’t stop her, thought Supergirl.
But it was the woman’s wild eyes – with streaks of orange and green flaring around cold, dark pupils – that caused the Girl of Steel to shutter. I can feel death stirring inside her.
-
-
A chill traversed Supergirl’s spine from the weight of the ripped-goddess’ alarming shadow. Clenching her fists, she felt relieved to be standing in the vacant lot. Construction equipment and shipping containers—thank Rao. Scanning the box-like buildings that lined the waters’ edge with her super-vision, the heroic blonde continued to count her blessings. More machinery than people. The virus shouldn’t be an issue.
While Supergirl was aching to put this pretender in her place, her mind kept drifting back to her friends: Lucy. Perry. James. There was so much blood. I don’t even know if they’re alive.
Struggling to control her anger, a burst of spittle flew from Supergirl’s mouth as she spoke. “You’re going to pay for every last life you’ve taken!” The real surprise, however, was the blast that erupted from her eyes. Overwhelmed with emotion, even the Girl of Steel was startled by the ferocity of her own attack. While her foe was sent flying, Supergirl’s arms shot out – accentuating her sleek muscle tone – in a desperate bid to maintain her balance.
As her heat-vision warmed her face, imbuing her cheeks with a rosy glow, images of Honolulu’s destruction flashed through Supergirl’s mind. Suddenly, Riven’s screams were no longer sufficient. Everyone keeps telling me how powerful she is. That I shouldn’t underestimate The Swarm. And yet, by Rao, I swear she’ll bleed for all she’s done. Lifting into the air, with arms extended, the enraged teen pursued her hulking foe across the vacant lot.
With a grunt, Riven’s flight was brought to an abrupt end. But instead of falling to the ground, she remained in the air, re-introduced to the outer warehouse wall by Supergirl’s fists. This time the barrier crumbled, sending Riven, along with pieces of cement, skidding into the building.
“Get up,” commanded Supergirl, “I’m not done with you.” Relishing her familiar dominance, the Girl of Steel powered forward. Her long, luscious legs crisscrossing as she backed her sweat-dripping foe into the corner. “What’s the matter?” taunted Supergirl, the clank of her red boots drowning out the sound of Riven’s squeaking bum against the concrete. “I thought you wanted another shot at the title?”
With a condescending huff, Supergirl reached down, grabbing the battered colonel by the straps of her bra. This feels familiar, thought Supergirl a telling smile spreading across her face as she handled the woman’s massive, 5’11” girth with ease.
Disturbed to see history repeating itself, Riven frantically groped at the heroine’s wrists. With energy zapping from her eyes, the hulking beauty’s muscles sprung to life. Her raw power visibly cascading down her arms, feeding into her large, meaty hands. And yet, despite her focused screams, she couldn’t break the young blonde’s dainty grip.
It’s time to put an end to this charade. “You dare threaten my friends. Reveal my identity. Humiliate me on national TV!” As she shouted, Supergirl effortlessly slammed her foe from one side of the corner to the other. Determined to make Riven pay, Supergirl repeated the process, enlarging the cracks forming in the concrete until, finally, with blood staining the colonel’s pearly-white teeth, she relented.
“Don’t tell me you’re already finished?”
Brimming with confidence, Supergirl was surprised by the woman’s laughter. “Hardly, blue bird. And I didn’t threaten your friends. I killed them. It’s a pity you missed their final moments. The kicking. The screaming. The glorious rattle of death. But don’t worry, your clock is ticking. Tick, tock Girl of Steel. Tick, tock.”
The insults didn’t bother Supergirl; she’d heard them before. The claims regarding her friends, however, left her shaken. Dead. NO! Overwhelmed with concern, she shouted, “you’re lying!” eyes frantic, trembling in denial. But, as Supergirl recalled the ashen look on her friends’ faces – their bodies emaciated like the dead officers at Pearl – she knew Riven was speaking truth.
Halley had confirmed as much back at the Pentagon: every human who has come in contact with the pathogen has died. Grinding her teeth in anger, the Maid of Might re-adjusted her grip on Riven’s bra, pulling her close. Incensed by the woman’s haunting laughter, Supergirl drew back her fist. Her arm shaking, uncertain how far she was willing to go.
Sensing the young blonde’s hesitation, Riven pounced. Swooshing the blood in her mouth, from one cheek to the other, she took aim at the startled teen’s face.
Instantly, Supergirl howled. The warm gush of red stinging her eyes. Her lungs burning with every cough. It didn’t matter where – not with the foul stench of her foe’s tainted blood washing her face – Supergirl just needed to get the woman away. Far away. Reacting more on instinct than anger, she blindly flung the ripped beauty across the room.
As she wiped the blood from her eyes – flicking her fingers dry in disgust – Supergirl could hear the woman’s flailing body, bouncing against distant metal and concrete.
For a second, Supergirl was gripped with worry. She had, after all, come in direct contact with her foe’s deadly blood. And yet, she didn’t panic. Her Kryptonian physiology all but ensured her immunity to any Earth-born pathogen. Plus, it hadn’t affected her before. With a roar, Supergirl swiveled. Her lean, toned legs effortlessly launching her into the air. Just as she suspected, the virus was having no affect.
With adrenaline pumping, the Girl of Steel was back in pursuit of her foe. A smile on her face from the wreckage of debris. Delighted to see that she had tossed the colonel from one side of the warehouse to the other.
Sorry Riven, no place to hide, thought Supergirl, spotting her wobbling foe scurrying towards the row of concrete pillars that formed the spine of the warehouse. This is almost too easy. The muscular beauty was clearly trying to flee.
Accelerating, Supergirl felt her excitement grow. Preparing to grab the woman’s round, muscular shoulder, she extended her hand. But before her fingers could touch, the villainess spun on her own—Riven wasn’t trying to escape, she’s looking to attack!
With ease, the colonel’s massive hands bit into the concrete, ripping the 16-foot-high pillar from its base. Her powerful legs tearing into the ground, allowing her upper body to generate the necessary torque to swing the pillar like a bat.
It was now Supergirl’s turn to slam into the wall. The concrete cracking, forming an outline around her body, hindering her efforts to pry herself free. But, even as the Maid of Might found her footing, her head continued to throb. Clutching her cheek, attempting to lessen the pain, she could feel it swelling from the impact of the blow.
The sting only fueled her rage. She had underestimated her opponent. This time there would be no holding back. Despite the dust cloud that had engulfed her as the pillar shattered, Supergirl stumbled forward.
She could see the silhouette of her fast approaching foe. Unleashing her fist, the heroic beauty targeted the nebulous mass. But all she encountered was air. With momentum carrying her, Supergirl frantically attempted to re-square her body.
-
-
Too late.
Riven was already waiting. Her large fists exploding out of the dust cloud, delivering a quick one-two against the Girl of Steel’s exposed abs.
With a grunt, Supergirl staggered. Her blood boiling, she tried to ignore the sting in her belly. Desperate to retaliate, she began swinging—eyes wild.
Rao, she’s fast, thought Supergirl, attempting to hunt Riven down. But, despite her mass, the villainess kept sliding in and out of range with the speed and dexterity of a woman half her size.
With every miss the throbbing in Supergirl’s abs flared, causing her to grimace from the pain. Finally relenting, the heroic teen growled in frustration. Okay, she’s tougher than I thought. For the first time, she could feel her heart racing. Her sunken cheeks fluttering with every labored breath.
Raising her hand, she was surprised to feel sweat across her brow. A puzzled look instantly gripped Supergirl’s face. Despite the presence of the sun – its warmth bathing her skin through the building’s glass roof – she felt tired, almost feverish.
Riven, on the other hand, appeared refreshed. Even through the tears in her khakis, her olive skin radiated with an intense glow. The sheen of perspiration enhancing her muscular tone; drawing her damp bra tight around her breasts, accentuating her flawless curves.
Just staring at the woman’s sculpted abs, caused Supergirl to tire. Her eyes shifting in and out of focus, drawn to the ouroboros inked across Riven’s armor-like abs. Suddenly, with her thoughts drifting, Supergirl couldn’t tell if it was her head or the snake that was spinning.
Struggling to re-establish her footing, images of Honolulu's destruction, once again, flashed through the young beauty’s mind. She could see her outstretched hand reaching, unable to grab hold of the missile. The same hand that, only moments ago, had failed to take hold of her foe.
Reeling with doubt, she began to wonder: have I been exposed to too much viral load? But, as Supergirl stepped forward, eager to re-engage her foe, she attempted to settle her mind. Come on Kara, keep it together. You've got this. I just need to catch my breath and then— That’s it! Supergirl couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. Of course. How poetic.
As the Maid of Might had hoped, Riven was swept back. Her super-breath clearing away the dust and slamming the villainess against the very wall that she, herself, had impacted. Instantly, she could feel her haze clearing. Encouraged by the fresh set of cracks in the crumbling concrete, she stopped questioning her powers. Dismissing any concern regarding possible overexposure to the virus, Supergirl pressed her attack, sending Riven’s flailing body through the barrier and back out into the vacant lot.
Although chaffed and bruised, Riven willed herself onto her knees. At first, she couldn’t make out the sirens. With her head throbbing, everything sounded muffled. But, as she brushed the dirt from her body, it wasn’t the pain or the sight of police or even the gathering media that concerned her…at least not yet.
Her smile returned upon spotting the Girl of Steel. Foolish bitch thought Riven, watching the young blonde confidently stroll out past the rubble. Her silky locks swaying, in tandem with her measured gait. You should be pressing your advantage, instead of posing for the cameras.
Tick, tock Girl of Steel.
-
-
To be continued ...
Every chapter has its obstacles - this one especially.
Switching from set-up to fight mode proved challenging. Way more challenging that I expected. There's a different rhythm to a fight (in story terms: it feels like a structure within a structure), which was hard for me to unlock. Not sure I've (bad pun) hit it. But, at this point, I'm out of ideas on how to make it better so, for better or worse - voila:
_____________________________
----------------------------------36---------------------------------
With every twist and turn, Supergirl’s beach-waved locks lashed across her face. Her screams fueling her rage, propelling her frantic efforts to land a meaningful blow against her muscular foe.
But with the ground rapidly approaching, the heroic blonde knew that all she really had to do was hit the brakes.
-
- Supergirl by Gary Frank
- Supergirl.jpg (216.1 KiB) Viewed 20872 times
Sure enough, Riven slammed against the asphalt. Her powerful body tearing into the concrete—forming a trench, as gravity sent her tumbling across the vacant lot.
Although her clothes were tattered, the villainess instantly managed to spring back onto her feet. Her movements unhindered by the light bruises that permeated her olive skin. Spitting dirt from her mouth, the hulking beauty locked eyes upon the Girl of Steel; wiped her lips and, with a flick of her wrists, signaled for more.
How’s she still standing? thought Supergirl. Her cape and skirt wrapping her slender frame, as she landed with a gentle bounce. That fall…we were fifty stories up! Glancing over her shoulder, towards the shattered windows of the Daily Planet, she easily spotted Perry’s corner office. As she stared, she could hear Alexis Luthor’s voice in her head, warning her: whatever she may have once been, Amal is no longer human.
Wincing at the recollection of Alexis’ gruesome description of Amal’s transformation into Riven – elongated limbs; augmented muscle mass; increased bone density – Supergirl continued to stare in an equal mix of both disbelief and admiration at her muscle-packed foe. Rao, the pain she must have endured to become this…this monstrosity.
And yet, despite the web of pulsating veins coursing throughout the villainess’ chiseled frame, Riven still retained elements of her femininity. Her smooth skin and curvy features, endowing her with a potent mix of both beauty and beast. A walking biological weapon from whose every pore seeped a deadly virus. A virus that had already claimed the lives of thousands. Perhaps millions, if I don’t stop her, thought Supergirl.
But it was the woman’s wild eyes – with streaks of orange and green flaring around cold, dark pupils – that caused the Girl of Steel to shutter. I can feel death stirring inside her.
-
- Riven eyes
- Riven-Eyes.jpg (137.32 KiB) Viewed 20872 times
A chill traversed Supergirl’s spine from the weight of the ripped-goddess’ alarming shadow. Clenching her fists, she felt relieved to be standing in the vacant lot. Construction equipment and shipping containers—thank Rao. Scanning the box-like buildings that lined the waters’ edge with her super-vision, the heroic blonde continued to count her blessings. More machinery than people. The virus shouldn’t be an issue.
While Supergirl was aching to put this pretender in her place, her mind kept drifting back to her friends: Lucy. Perry. James. There was so much blood. I don’t even know if they’re alive.
Struggling to control her anger, a burst of spittle flew from Supergirl’s mouth as she spoke. “You’re going to pay for every last life you’ve taken!” The real surprise, however, was the blast that erupted from her eyes. Overwhelmed with emotion, even the Girl of Steel was startled by the ferocity of her own attack. While her foe was sent flying, Supergirl’s arms shot out – accentuating her sleek muscle tone – in a desperate bid to maintain her balance.
As her heat-vision warmed her face, imbuing her cheeks with a rosy glow, images of Honolulu’s destruction flashed through Supergirl’s mind. Suddenly, Riven’s screams were no longer sufficient. Everyone keeps telling me how powerful she is. That I shouldn’t underestimate The Swarm. And yet, by Rao, I swear she’ll bleed for all she’s done. Lifting into the air, with arms extended, the enraged teen pursued her hulking foe across the vacant lot.
With a grunt, Riven’s flight was brought to an abrupt end. But instead of falling to the ground, she remained in the air, re-introduced to the outer warehouse wall by Supergirl’s fists. This time the barrier crumbled, sending Riven, along with pieces of cement, skidding into the building.
“Get up,” commanded Supergirl, “I’m not done with you.” Relishing her familiar dominance, the Girl of Steel powered forward. Her long, luscious legs crisscrossing as she backed her sweat-dripping foe into the corner. “What’s the matter?” taunted Supergirl, the clank of her red boots drowning out the sound of Riven’s squeaking bum against the concrete. “I thought you wanted another shot at the title?”
With a condescending huff, Supergirl reached down, grabbing the battered colonel by the straps of her bra. This feels familiar, thought Supergirl a telling smile spreading across her face as she handled the woman’s massive, 5’11” girth with ease.
Disturbed to see history repeating itself, Riven frantically groped at the heroine’s wrists. With energy zapping from her eyes, the hulking beauty’s muscles sprung to life. Her raw power visibly cascading down her arms, feeding into her large, meaty hands. And yet, despite her focused screams, she couldn’t break the young blonde’s dainty grip.
It’s time to put an end to this charade. “You dare threaten my friends. Reveal my identity. Humiliate me on national TV!” As she shouted, Supergirl effortlessly slammed her foe from one side of the corner to the other. Determined to make Riven pay, Supergirl repeated the process, enlarging the cracks forming in the concrete until, finally, with blood staining the colonel’s pearly-white teeth, she relented.
“Don’t tell me you’re already finished?”
Brimming with confidence, Supergirl was surprised by the woman’s laughter. “Hardly, blue bird. And I didn’t threaten your friends. I killed them. It’s a pity you missed their final moments. The kicking. The screaming. The glorious rattle of death. But don’t worry, your clock is ticking. Tick, tock Girl of Steel. Tick, tock.”
The insults didn’t bother Supergirl; she’d heard them before. The claims regarding her friends, however, left her shaken. Dead. NO! Overwhelmed with concern, she shouted, “you’re lying!” eyes frantic, trembling in denial. But, as Supergirl recalled the ashen look on her friends’ faces – their bodies emaciated like the dead officers at Pearl – she knew Riven was speaking truth.
Halley had confirmed as much back at the Pentagon: every human who has come in contact with the pathogen has died. Grinding her teeth in anger, the Maid of Might re-adjusted her grip on Riven’s bra, pulling her close. Incensed by the woman’s haunting laughter, Supergirl drew back her fist. Her arm shaking, uncertain how far she was willing to go.
Sensing the young blonde’s hesitation, Riven pounced. Swooshing the blood in her mouth, from one cheek to the other, she took aim at the startled teen’s face.
Instantly, Supergirl howled. The warm gush of red stinging her eyes. Her lungs burning with every cough. It didn’t matter where – not with the foul stench of her foe’s tainted blood washing her face – Supergirl just needed to get the woman away. Far away. Reacting more on instinct than anger, she blindly flung the ripped beauty across the room.
As she wiped the blood from her eyes – flicking her fingers dry in disgust – Supergirl could hear the woman’s flailing body, bouncing against distant metal and concrete.
For a second, Supergirl was gripped with worry. She had, after all, come in direct contact with her foe’s deadly blood. And yet, she didn’t panic. Her Kryptonian physiology all but ensured her immunity to any Earth-born pathogen. Plus, it hadn’t affected her before. With a roar, Supergirl swiveled. Her lean, toned legs effortlessly launching her into the air. Just as she suspected, the virus was having no affect.
With adrenaline pumping, the Girl of Steel was back in pursuit of her foe. A smile on her face from the wreckage of debris. Delighted to see that she had tossed the colonel from one side of the warehouse to the other.
Sorry Riven, no place to hide, thought Supergirl, spotting her wobbling foe scurrying towards the row of concrete pillars that formed the spine of the warehouse. This is almost too easy. The muscular beauty was clearly trying to flee.
Accelerating, Supergirl felt her excitement grow. Preparing to grab the woman’s round, muscular shoulder, she extended her hand. But before her fingers could touch, the villainess spun on her own—Riven wasn’t trying to escape, she’s looking to attack!
With ease, the colonel’s massive hands bit into the concrete, ripping the 16-foot-high pillar from its base. Her powerful legs tearing into the ground, allowing her upper body to generate the necessary torque to swing the pillar like a bat.
It was now Supergirl’s turn to slam into the wall. The concrete cracking, forming an outline around her body, hindering her efforts to pry herself free. But, even as the Maid of Might found her footing, her head continued to throb. Clutching her cheek, attempting to lessen the pain, she could feel it swelling from the impact of the blow.
The sting only fueled her rage. She had underestimated her opponent. This time there would be no holding back. Despite the dust cloud that had engulfed her as the pillar shattered, Supergirl stumbled forward.
She could see the silhouette of her fast approaching foe. Unleashing her fist, the heroic beauty targeted the nebulous mass. But all she encountered was air. With momentum carrying her, Supergirl frantically attempted to re-square her body.
-
- Supergirl by Gary Frank
- Supergirl.jpg (166.96 KiB) Viewed 20861 times
Too late.
Riven was already waiting. Her large fists exploding out of the dust cloud, delivering a quick one-two against the Girl of Steel’s exposed abs.
With a grunt, Supergirl staggered. Her blood boiling, she tried to ignore the sting in her belly. Desperate to retaliate, she began swinging—eyes wild.
Rao, she’s fast, thought Supergirl, attempting to hunt Riven down. But, despite her mass, the villainess kept sliding in and out of range with the speed and dexterity of a woman half her size.
With every miss the throbbing in Supergirl’s abs flared, causing her to grimace from the pain. Finally relenting, the heroic teen growled in frustration. Okay, she’s tougher than I thought. For the first time, she could feel her heart racing. Her sunken cheeks fluttering with every labored breath.
Raising her hand, she was surprised to feel sweat across her brow. A puzzled look instantly gripped Supergirl’s face. Despite the presence of the sun – its warmth bathing her skin through the building’s glass roof – she felt tired, almost feverish.
Riven, on the other hand, appeared refreshed. Even through the tears in her khakis, her olive skin radiated with an intense glow. The sheen of perspiration enhancing her muscular tone; drawing her damp bra tight around her breasts, accentuating her flawless curves.
Just staring at the woman’s sculpted abs, caused Supergirl to tire. Her eyes shifting in and out of focus, drawn to the ouroboros inked across Riven’s armor-like abs. Suddenly, with her thoughts drifting, Supergirl couldn’t tell if it was her head or the snake that was spinning.
Struggling to re-establish her footing, images of Honolulu's destruction, once again, flashed through the young beauty’s mind. She could see her outstretched hand reaching, unable to grab hold of the missile. The same hand that, only moments ago, had failed to take hold of her foe.
Reeling with doubt, she began to wonder: have I been exposed to too much viral load? But, as Supergirl stepped forward, eager to re-engage her foe, she attempted to settle her mind. Come on Kara, keep it together. You've got this. I just need to catch my breath and then— That’s it! Supergirl couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. Of course. How poetic.
As the Maid of Might had hoped, Riven was swept back. Her super-breath clearing away the dust and slamming the villainess against the very wall that she, herself, had impacted. Instantly, she could feel her haze clearing. Encouraged by the fresh set of cracks in the crumbling concrete, she stopped questioning her powers. Dismissing any concern regarding possible overexposure to the virus, Supergirl pressed her attack, sending Riven’s flailing body through the barrier and back out into the vacant lot.
Although chaffed and bruised, Riven willed herself onto her knees. At first, she couldn’t make out the sirens. With her head throbbing, everything sounded muffled. But, as she brushed the dirt from her body, it wasn’t the pain or the sight of police or even the gathering media that concerned her…at least not yet.
Her smile returned upon spotting the Girl of Steel. Foolish bitch thought Riven, watching the young blonde confidently stroll out past the rubble. Her silky locks swaying, in tandem with her measured gait. You should be pressing your advantage, instead of posing for the cameras.
Tick, tock Girl of Steel.
-
- Supergirl by June Brigman
- Supergirl-walk.jpg (165.52 KiB) Viewed 20872 times
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 13 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Excellent news! I thought the transition to fight mode worked well, this epic story goes from strength to strength.
Thanks Clyde. I'll work on the costume damage. And with a bit of luck I'll be able to scrounge up a camera or two.
Hang in there - update on the way.
This is one of my all-time favourite stories.
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
I'm doing this one quick (especially the images). Which means, I'll probably circle back and edit later - sorry, I hate doing it this way...just pressed for time at the moment.
To all those who've commented - thank you. Actually, BIG thank you. You folks are stars.
I know it's been said before, but it can't be said enough: feedback is a writer's life blood. Just knowing that someone (anyone) is out there...well, it makes a difference. So, my inability to draw aside, consider taking a sec to leave a thought or two. Whether good or bad it's honestly appreciated.
Clyde - you said this is becoming a fav (
) - what other stories do you recommend, always looking for good reads?
Ksire - I miss your stories. Tell me, has anything here actually surprised you?
And to anyone I've lost along the way, I'd love to hear why? Honestly, I'd like to know.
Lately, I feel like I'm writing the same couple lines over and over, hopefully it doesn't show but definitely in a creative rut.
Oh... and hope you enjoy.
_____________________________
----------------------------------37---------------------------------
“You didn’t really think you could defeat me?” Clasping her hands, Supergirl punctuated her arrogant tone with a slow, deliberate crack of her knuckles.
All the pain. The suffering. And for what? “You’ve barely lasted longer than last time.” With a snicker, the heroic teen croaked back her contempt. Humans!
Approaching her crawling foe, the Maid of Might could see the media gathering—with Bin and her camera front and center. At first, she worried that the surrounding wraiths were hunting for more hostages. Instead, to her bafflement, they began distributing protective masks. Wait! Why are they helping them?
Clearing her head, with a quick shake, Supergirl turned back to Riven. Come on Kara, stay focused. Regardless of what Bin and the wraiths were up to, stopping this killer is what matters.
With every step, Supergirl sensed her familiar swagger returning. Gazing down at her battered foe, a cool wind filled her hair. Swirling up her parted legs, the breeze instantly enhanced the pleasure she felt upon gripping the smooth curve of her hips. Her blue eyes twinkling with confidence, she proudly showcased her flawless, S-covered breasts.
Finally—she was back.
“You think you’ve won,” coughed Riven.
The Girl of Steel had seen the same disheartened look on countless opponents. So predictable. Holding back a laugh, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. No one ever wanted to admit defeat. To accept that they had been bested by a 19-year-old girl. Sorry, but that just won’t cut it, thought Supergirl, pretending not to notice Riven’s clawing fingers, digging into the dirt.
She actually still thinks she can win, mused Supergirl, standing back, allowing Riven to stagger to her feet. Instantly, the colonel sprung forward, her arm arching up towards the Girl of Steel’s face.
“Disappointing,” teased Supergirl, effortlessly plucking the villainess’ hand out of the air before she could release the dirt. “I expected more than cheap tricks.” In truth, Riven’s startled gaze was everything Supergirl had hoped for. Playing to the cameras, the Maid of Might slowly tightened her hold on the muscular beauty’s fist, forcing her to scream.
Works every time thought Supergirl as Riven howled. Now for the other one.
As expected, her foe doubled down. A cool smile spread across Supergirl’s lips as the colonel desperately lashed out with her remaining fist. I almost feel sorry for her, thought the heroic teen as she, yet again, intercepted her opponent’s attack. Her slender muscles, with comical ease, overpowering the hulking beauty’s pulsating frame.
Even as the colonel’s feet dug-in, forming a trench, the Girl of Steel effortlessly advanced. Relishing the shock on Riven’s face, Supergirl flicked back her hair, welcoming the approach of the cameras with a beaming smile.
Judging by the number of reporters, every network had gathered. The world was watching. Time to end this, thought the Maid of Might, enjoying her dominance, as well as the media’s attention. With both of Riven’s fists trapped, it was now just a matter of going through the usual motions. Confident in her victory, Supergirl readied to deliver the final blow.
But the colonel wasn’t the one who screamed.
Distracted by the cameras, Supergirl never saw the kick. The thundering blow rolling back her eyes – forcing her to release a long, drawn out moan from the pain – as it landed between her legs.
Desperate for relief, the Maid of Might pulled away from her foe. Her hands collecting her skirt as her fingers melted into her throbbing mound. But despite her caressing touch, the hurt kept building. Her eyes watering with each successive wave. The pain bending her knees, hinging her bum every closer to the ground.
It wasn’t until Supergirl lifted her gaze, sensing the attention of the press, that her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Relaxing her grip, a cringe swept her face. Struggling to find her footing, her opponent’s laughter only fueled her rage.
With a scream, Supergirl spun towards her muscular foe, determined to exact revenge.
But Riven was waiting. With the dirt still in her hands she flung it at Supergirl’s face.
Wobbling back, the Maid of Might howled. Rubbing her palms against her eyes, she managed only to increase the pain.
To the media’s surprise – and to that of the millions watching at home – the villainess had flipped the script. Incredibly, she had been the one in control all along. Like a chess master, Riven had been planning several moves ahead—luring the overconfident Girl of Steel into a vulnerable position to land a devastating blow.
Despite the familiar red glow forming around the heroine’s eyes, the muscle-clad beauty retained her poise. Ducking Supergirl’s heat-vision with a quick, graceful roll, Riven instantly closed the distance. Her fist already clenched, she exploded forward, pouring everything she had into her uppercut.
Supergirl’s head snapped back. Her teeth chattering from the blow. Though temporary, the flicker of darkness shooting through her mind was enough—she had lost her legs.
With bursts of heat-vision sputtering from her eyes, Supergirl tumbled. Her long, blonde mane gracefully flowing down, draping her shoulders, while she, herself, landed unceremoniously – with a loud, sharp yelp – on her bum.
-
-
To Supergirl's surprise more than just her pride was hurt. Exploring the pain in her chin, she could instantly tell that something else was wrong. This can’t be. With a wince, Supergirl lowered her gaze. She couldn’t believe it. Her blue eyes wide, shaking in disbelieve from the red blob coating her fingers. I’m bleeding!
Though small, she had never been cut before. Flustered, Supergirl whisked her hand away, as if the act alone would, somehow, erase the gash from the view of the circling media.
Putting on a brave face, Supergirl turned to the cameras. To her surprise they weren’t focused on her red-smeared chin. Instead, their lenses swept down. Way down. Baffled, she followed their gaze. It didn’t take long to realize what had captivated their attention.
With a huff, Supergirl snapped her legs shut. Unfurling her skirt from her waist, she held on to the hem, frantically pulling it down.
In the past, she’d never been bothered by the media’s fixation with her underskirt. But the look on Riven’s face – tongue slowly licking her lips, eyes lusting over the scant, blue fabric – instantly caused her to recoil. Gripped with disgust, the Maid of Might kept her legs pressed together as she wormed awkwardly back onto her feet.
“Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” yelled Supergirl. Her body taut with tension.
“Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”
“Stop it!” screamed Supergirl. Enraged by her opponent’s hungering eyes, she shifted her weight onto her lead foot and lunged.
With a smile, Riven casually stepped back. Feeling the wind generated by Supergirl’s punch, but none of the actual force.
Resetting her balance, the Girl of Steel continued to give chase. Displaying her athleticism with a quick spin, she, once again, swung with everything she had.
Still, Riven avoided the blow. Her quick feet shuffling left, then right as she teased, “you call yourself a hero. But where were you when my people were being slaughtered?” Taking advantage of the Maid of Might’s exposed stomach, Riven struck with two stinging fists.
Clutching her abs, Supergirl staggered from the pain shooting up her side. With each labored breath, she could feel sweat dripping – like dew on a window pane – down the sides of her face.
“Sorry babes, you have the look but not the chops to wear that S?” declared Riven. Kissing her knuckles and brazenly extending her fist to gage the distance between her hand and Supergirl’s face.
“You know nothing about me,” snapped Supergirl. Batting away Riven’s arm, she darted forward, pouring everything she had into her swing.
-
-
“I know you’ve never actually been challenged,” replied Riven, easily evading the young blonde’s clumsy attack. “Yes, you have power, but how can you know what’s in your heart until you’ve faced resistance? It’s easy to be brave when there’s nothing to fear. The thing is, we are what we overcome. Struggle is what defines us. And you, babes, have never been tested.”
Though battered and bruised, the colonel continued to bide her time. Dancing in an out of range, she knew her survival – at least temporarily – depended entirely on her ability to stoke the young blonde’s unbridled aggression.
After all, a lifetime of training had taught her that discipline; not muscle was the key to victory. Pain, suffering that’s what creates character, not some silly costume. For the battle – the real battle – was in the mind. That’s why Supergirl, despite all her powers, would soon be on her knees. “Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”
Angling her body, to avoid another flurry of blows, Riven marveled at the Maid of Might’s waisted energy.
The heroine was all but telegraphing her attacks.
POP! POP!
The hulking beauty slipped Supergirl’s lazy hook and punished her with two more stinging blows.
Once again, Supergirl cringed from the pain rattling her abs. She tried to hide it, but even as she shook off the attack, she could feel her energy waning. On some subconscious level, she understood that her enemy was baiting her; still, in her frenzied state - driven by hurt and ego – all she could hit was shadow.
“The media’s flattery has blinded you. Don’t you see, you’ve failed Supergirl. How else do you explain a world in which the guilty hide in plain sight, while innocents suffer? Do you deny the rising inequality? The growing spiral of polarization. The concentrated wealth?”
Yet again, Supergirl struck air. Her frustration growing under the weight of her enemy’s verbal assault. Her chest heaving, she dried her sweat-lathered face with her sleeves, while Riven’s words festered.
She didn’t want to admit it, but she was tired. Despite her brave face, Supergirl could feel her muscles burning. And yet, her pride wouldn’t allow her to take hold of her abs. She had never had to exert herself like this. And, in her exhaustion, she began to worry that maybe Riven was right.
Even as she re-gained her balance, summoning the will to continue, Supergirl’s thoughts drifted. Her opponent’s words lingering—reminding her of all the times she had worked late into the night in the guise of her alter ego. But, no matter how many bylines Linda Danvers produced, the Alexis Luthors of the world kept getting away.
Increasingly, even her efforts as Supergirl felt futile. Week after week there was always another villain to defeat—each stronger than the last. From nuclear proliferation; to environmental degradation; to growing hunger; she couldn’t deny that the world was becoming a more dangerous place. There was seemingly no end to the violence, not when the divide between the rich and the poor – the haves and the have nots – kept exponentially increasing.
Demoralized, she averted her foe’s swirling eyes, unable to respond.
Riven’s fists, however, forced a whimper.
As her head popped back, Supergirl could feel her cheeks reddening. Blow after blow, pain washed her face. Her jaw hanging, with every gasp, unable to process the blistering speed of her opponent’s spearing fists, her legs teetered. She couldn’t explain it, but her foe was definitely getting stronger. Rao, how’s this possible?
“Admit it, you’ve failed,” snapped Riven. Keeping pace with the Maid of Might’s retreat, she delivered a blood-splattering hook.
-
-
Supergirl’s head was left spinning. Her opponent was simply too quick. Too well trained. Too disciplined. Tending to her split lip, Supergirl grunted from the pain. A shudder sweeping down her sweat-riddled frame upon turning back towards her hulking foe.
Entranced by Riven’s sparking eyes, the Maid of Might detected something she had not felt in years: fear. For the first time, she realized she could actually lose. Riddled with doubt, her mind raced.
To be continued ...
To all those who've commented - thank you. Actually, BIG thank you. You folks are stars.
I know it's been said before, but it can't be said enough: feedback is a writer's life blood. Just knowing that someone (anyone) is out there...well, it makes a difference. So, my inability to draw aside, consider taking a sec to leave a thought or two. Whether good or bad it's honestly appreciated.
Clyde - you said this is becoming a fav (
) - what other stories do you recommend, always looking for good reads?Ksire - I miss your stories. Tell me, has anything here actually surprised you?
And to anyone I've lost along the way, I'd love to hear why? Honestly, I'd like to know.
Lately, I feel like I'm writing the same couple lines over and over, hopefully it doesn't show but definitely in a creative rut.
Oh... and hope you enjoy.
_____________________________
----------------------------------37---------------------------------
“You didn’t really think you could defeat me?” Clasping her hands, Supergirl punctuated her arrogant tone with a slow, deliberate crack of her knuckles.
All the pain. The suffering. And for what? “You’ve barely lasted longer than last time.” With a snicker, the heroic teen croaked back her contempt. Humans!
Approaching her crawling foe, the Maid of Might could see the media gathering—with Bin and her camera front and center. At first, she worried that the surrounding wraiths were hunting for more hostages. Instead, to her bafflement, they began distributing protective masks. Wait! Why are they helping them?
Clearing her head, with a quick shake, Supergirl turned back to Riven. Come on Kara, stay focused. Regardless of what Bin and the wraiths were up to, stopping this killer is what matters.
With every step, Supergirl sensed her familiar swagger returning. Gazing down at her battered foe, a cool wind filled her hair. Swirling up her parted legs, the breeze instantly enhanced the pleasure she felt upon gripping the smooth curve of her hips. Her blue eyes twinkling with confidence, she proudly showcased her flawless, S-covered breasts.
Finally—she was back.
“You think you’ve won,” coughed Riven.
The Girl of Steel had seen the same disheartened look on countless opponents. So predictable. Holding back a laugh, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. No one ever wanted to admit defeat. To accept that they had been bested by a 19-year-old girl. Sorry, but that just won’t cut it, thought Supergirl, pretending not to notice Riven’s clawing fingers, digging into the dirt.
She actually still thinks she can win, mused Supergirl, standing back, allowing Riven to stagger to her feet. Instantly, the colonel sprung forward, her arm arching up towards the Girl of Steel’s face.
“Disappointing,” teased Supergirl, effortlessly plucking the villainess’ hand out of the air before she could release the dirt. “I expected more than cheap tricks.” In truth, Riven’s startled gaze was everything Supergirl had hoped for. Playing to the cameras, the Maid of Might slowly tightened her hold on the muscular beauty’s fist, forcing her to scream.
Works every time thought Supergirl as Riven howled. Now for the other one.
As expected, her foe doubled down. A cool smile spread across Supergirl’s lips as the colonel desperately lashed out with her remaining fist. I almost feel sorry for her, thought the heroic teen as she, yet again, intercepted her opponent’s attack. Her slender muscles, with comical ease, overpowering the hulking beauty’s pulsating frame.
Even as the colonel’s feet dug-in, forming a trench, the Girl of Steel effortlessly advanced. Relishing the shock on Riven’s face, Supergirl flicked back her hair, welcoming the approach of the cameras with a beaming smile.
Judging by the number of reporters, every network had gathered. The world was watching. Time to end this, thought the Maid of Might, enjoying her dominance, as well as the media’s attention. With both of Riven’s fists trapped, it was now just a matter of going through the usual motions. Confident in her victory, Supergirl readied to deliver the final blow.
But the colonel wasn’t the one who screamed.
Distracted by the cameras, Supergirl never saw the kick. The thundering blow rolling back her eyes – forcing her to release a long, drawn out moan from the pain – as it landed between her legs.
Desperate for relief, the Maid of Might pulled away from her foe. Her hands collecting her skirt as her fingers melted into her throbbing mound. But despite her caressing touch, the hurt kept building. Her eyes watering with each successive wave. The pain bending her knees, hinging her bum every closer to the ground.
It wasn’t until Supergirl lifted her gaze, sensing the attention of the press, that her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Relaxing her grip, a cringe swept her face. Struggling to find her footing, her opponent’s laughter only fueled her rage.
With a scream, Supergirl spun towards her muscular foe, determined to exact revenge.
But Riven was waiting. With the dirt still in her hands she flung it at Supergirl’s face.
Wobbling back, the Maid of Might howled. Rubbing her palms against her eyes, she managed only to increase the pain.
To the media’s surprise – and to that of the millions watching at home – the villainess had flipped the script. Incredibly, she had been the one in control all along. Like a chess master, Riven had been planning several moves ahead—luring the overconfident Girl of Steel into a vulnerable position to land a devastating blow.
Despite the familiar red glow forming around the heroine’s eyes, the muscle-clad beauty retained her poise. Ducking Supergirl’s heat-vision with a quick, graceful roll, Riven instantly closed the distance. Her fist already clenched, she exploded forward, pouring everything she had into her uppercut.
Supergirl’s head snapped back. Her teeth chattering from the blow. Though temporary, the flicker of darkness shooting through her mind was enough—she had lost her legs.
With bursts of heat-vision sputtering from her eyes, Supergirl tumbled. Her long, blonde mane gracefully flowing down, draping her shoulders, while she, herself, landed unceremoniously – with a loud, sharp yelp – on her bum.
-
- Supergirl by June Brigman
- Supergirl fall.jpg (125.87 KiB) Viewed 20427 times
To Supergirl's surprise more than just her pride was hurt. Exploring the pain in her chin, she could instantly tell that something else was wrong. This can’t be. With a wince, Supergirl lowered her gaze. She couldn’t believe it. Her blue eyes wide, shaking in disbelieve from the red blob coating her fingers. I’m bleeding!
Though small, she had never been cut before. Flustered, Supergirl whisked her hand away, as if the act alone would, somehow, erase the gash from the view of the circling media.
Putting on a brave face, Supergirl turned to the cameras. To her surprise they weren’t focused on her red-smeared chin. Instead, their lenses swept down. Way down. Baffled, she followed their gaze. It didn’t take long to realize what had captivated their attention.
With a huff, Supergirl snapped her legs shut. Unfurling her skirt from her waist, she held on to the hem, frantically pulling it down.
In the past, she’d never been bothered by the media’s fixation with her underskirt. But the look on Riven’s face – tongue slowly licking her lips, eyes lusting over the scant, blue fabric – instantly caused her to recoil. Gripped with disgust, the Maid of Might kept her legs pressed together as she wormed awkwardly back onto her feet.
“Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” yelled Supergirl. Her body taut with tension.
“Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”
“Stop it!” screamed Supergirl. Enraged by her opponent’s hungering eyes, she shifted her weight onto her lead foot and lunged.
With a smile, Riven casually stepped back. Feeling the wind generated by Supergirl’s punch, but none of the actual force.
Resetting her balance, the Girl of Steel continued to give chase. Displaying her athleticism with a quick spin, she, once again, swung with everything she had.
Still, Riven avoided the blow. Her quick feet shuffling left, then right as she teased, “you call yourself a hero. But where were you when my people were being slaughtered?” Taking advantage of the Maid of Might’s exposed stomach, Riven struck with two stinging fists.
Clutching her abs, Supergirl staggered from the pain shooting up her side. With each labored breath, she could feel sweat dripping – like dew on a window pane – down the sides of her face.
“Sorry babes, you have the look but not the chops to wear that S?” declared Riven. Kissing her knuckles and brazenly extending her fist to gage the distance between her hand and Supergirl’s face.
“You know nothing about me,” snapped Supergirl. Batting away Riven’s arm, she darted forward, pouring everything she had into her swing.
-
- Supergirl by Gary Frank
- Supergirl.jpg (212.74 KiB) Viewed 20427 times
“I know you’ve never actually been challenged,” replied Riven, easily evading the young blonde’s clumsy attack. “Yes, you have power, but how can you know what’s in your heart until you’ve faced resistance? It’s easy to be brave when there’s nothing to fear. The thing is, we are what we overcome. Struggle is what defines us. And you, babes, have never been tested.”
Though battered and bruised, the colonel continued to bide her time. Dancing in an out of range, she knew her survival – at least temporarily – depended entirely on her ability to stoke the young blonde’s unbridled aggression.
After all, a lifetime of training had taught her that discipline; not muscle was the key to victory. Pain, suffering that’s what creates character, not some silly costume. For the battle – the real battle – was in the mind. That’s why Supergirl, despite all her powers, would soon be on her knees. “Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”
Angling her body, to avoid another flurry of blows, Riven marveled at the Maid of Might’s waisted energy.
The heroine was all but telegraphing her attacks.
POP! POP!
The hulking beauty slipped Supergirl’s lazy hook and punished her with two more stinging blows.
Once again, Supergirl cringed from the pain rattling her abs. She tried to hide it, but even as she shook off the attack, she could feel her energy waning. On some subconscious level, she understood that her enemy was baiting her; still, in her frenzied state - driven by hurt and ego – all she could hit was shadow.
“The media’s flattery has blinded you. Don’t you see, you’ve failed Supergirl. How else do you explain a world in which the guilty hide in plain sight, while innocents suffer? Do you deny the rising inequality? The growing spiral of polarization. The concentrated wealth?”
Yet again, Supergirl struck air. Her frustration growing under the weight of her enemy’s verbal assault. Her chest heaving, she dried her sweat-lathered face with her sleeves, while Riven’s words festered.
She didn’t want to admit it, but she was tired. Despite her brave face, Supergirl could feel her muscles burning. And yet, her pride wouldn’t allow her to take hold of her abs. She had never had to exert herself like this. And, in her exhaustion, she began to worry that maybe Riven was right.
Even as she re-gained her balance, summoning the will to continue, Supergirl’s thoughts drifted. Her opponent’s words lingering—reminding her of all the times she had worked late into the night in the guise of her alter ego. But, no matter how many bylines Linda Danvers produced, the Alexis Luthors of the world kept getting away.
Increasingly, even her efforts as Supergirl felt futile. Week after week there was always another villain to defeat—each stronger than the last. From nuclear proliferation; to environmental degradation; to growing hunger; she couldn’t deny that the world was becoming a more dangerous place. There was seemingly no end to the violence, not when the divide between the rich and the poor – the haves and the have nots – kept exponentially increasing.
Demoralized, she averted her foe’s swirling eyes, unable to respond.
Riven’s fists, however, forced a whimper.
As her head popped back, Supergirl could feel her cheeks reddening. Blow after blow, pain washed her face. Her jaw hanging, with every gasp, unable to process the blistering speed of her opponent’s spearing fists, her legs teetered. She couldn’t explain it, but her foe was definitely getting stronger. Rao, how’s this possible?
“Admit it, you’ve failed,” snapped Riven. Keeping pace with the Maid of Might’s retreat, she delivered a blood-splattering hook.
-
- Supergirl by Ian Churchill
- Supergirl hook.jpg (222 KiB) Viewed 20427 times
Supergirl’s head was left spinning. Her opponent was simply too quick. Too well trained. Too disciplined. Tending to her split lip, Supergirl grunted from the pain. A shudder sweeping down her sweat-riddled frame upon turning back towards her hulking foe.
Entranced by Riven’s sparking eyes, the Maid of Might detected something she had not felt in years: fear. For the first time, she realized she could actually lose. Riddled with doubt, her mind raced.
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 16 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Another awesome chapter. Thanks, can't wait to see how the battle continues.
As to what stories I have really enjoyed here are a few....
- Dr. Dominator's Supergirl and the Military Exercise.
- The Fuchsia Fox series by Centurion and flirty_but_nice - (especially Return of the Shadow Tiger, Hostage!, Raging Bull and Someone Is Watching You).
- MISS AMERICA: RISING SUN by FreeFall
- Perils of Valora by Damselbinder
- Supergirl Gales of Destruction and others by Seraoni
- The Demise of Supergirl by Sir Lanceherlots
- The Erotic Adventures Of Supergirl by Ann Douglas
As to what stories I have really enjoyed here are a few....
- Dr. Dominator's Supergirl and the Military Exercise.
- The Fuchsia Fox series by Centurion and flirty_but_nice - (especially Return of the Shadow Tiger, Hostage!, Raging Bull and Someone Is Watching You).
- MISS AMERICA: RISING SUN by FreeFall
- Perils of Valora by Damselbinder
- Supergirl Gales of Destruction and others by Seraoni
- The Demise of Supergirl by Sir Lanceherlots
- The Erotic Adventures Of Supergirl by Ann Douglas
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
After a couple of busy weeks, I've finally caught up on this story. Fantastic fight scene so far and even better psychological attack, GOS. I wonder if Riven is telling the truth about Supergirl's friends being dead already. That would be something crushing for her, even if Supergirl battled back and won. Can't wait to see where you take the rest of this story. Great work!
Your question kind of surprised me. Your portrayal of SG is like mine, except you take her heroics and defeat three levels higher. And that is where it is closer to where it probably should be. So, this story is a little bit in between, and that has surprised me. I am wondering how and why her confidence and power seems to slip away like water.
My answer to the question and the time it took is why I stopped writing O:)
Your descriptions of the scene is very vivid.
Thanks! and many bows to you
My answer to the question and the time it took is why I stopped writing O:)
Your descriptions of the scene is very vivid.
Thanks! and many bows to you
-
Get Your Exxon
- Henchman
- Posts: 57
- Joined: 8 years ago
Hey, it’s been a while. Like long while. This story finished? Things were really heating up ... and so was I?
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Hey folk,
I know, it’s been a while—apologies.
The next chapter is below…but first:
I’ve been debating, for some time, whether or not to continue publishing this story. I delayed, in part, because an eminent writer on this site, and one whose stories I admire, accused me of plagiarizing the works of Seraoni. Which, for obvious reasons, I didn’t appreciate, including the fact that…well, that’s me.
After many years of inactivity, I joined this site hoping for a fresh start. Writing has always been a struggle, as much then as now. And the chance to try again, to see if I could do better, was appealing. That being said, all my stories – old and new – have always been available on another site, so the attempt, at best, was a bit of an open secret.
The second reason I’ve hesitated is the global pandemic. When I started writing this particular tale – over a year ago – the idea of concocting a non-specified virus to defeat Supergirl made sense. But, obviously, today things are different.
While the first reason is just shitty, the second, in particular, has been difficult to wrestle with. Ultimately, the story centers around Supergirl’s defeat and not the virus, and, in my mind, that’s important. As is the fact that I started writing this, well before the pandemic.
That said, what’s happening around the world is horrific. And I’m certainly not looking to make light of people’s suffering. To be clear: this is a work of fan fiction, meant to entertain and nothing more. I do not condone or celebrate violence of any type. For heaven’s sake, be decent.
The last reason I’ve decided to continue is that people we’re enjoying the story. At least, I hope they were. Your views, comments and general support keep me going—thank you. I hope, in time, I can win readers back. When I started, I said I’d deliver at least until the end of Act II, and I intend to make good on that promise. So, without further delay, here’s the first of the final nine updates.
Stay safe and hope you enjoy.
_____________________________
----------------------------------38---------------------------------
Like a thick smog, Supergirl was choking on self-doubt. Her paralysis heightened by the dizzying lights of the cameras. The missile, the press conference, revealing my identity…it’s all been building to this. Defeating me in public is the last step. Her heart pounding, Supergirl’s mind burrowed, wallowing in darkness.
With a curl of her lips, Riven sensed that victory was nigh. The worry on the young blonde’s face reminding her of a favorite adage: everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth. Refusing to leave anything to chance, the colonel reached out, encircling Supergirl’s narrow waist in her massive arms.
The Girl of Steel’s head flew back as her foe pulled her near. Her screams blasting into the air from the pain ridding her spine. Desperate for relief, the young blonde’s hands shot down—her fingers slipping on the colonel’s sweat glistening arms, struggling to break free.
“Tell me Supergirl, when was the last time you faced adversity?” asked Riven, relishing the heroine’s frantic efforts to escape.
With Supergirl’s tight, feminine frame pressing against her own, Riven could no longer contain her excitement. Drawn to the Maid of Might’ smooth, slippery legs, the mouth-watering contours of the Girl of Steel’s bum called to her.
Even beneath her cape, the athletic blonde’s taut, round glutes popped with sexual perfection—one side bouncing off the other with every desperate flutter from her red boots.
Her pleasure mounting, Riven tightened her deadly embrace. The feel of Supergirl’s hot breath, bathing her neck, fueling her desires. Unable to resist, she brushed aside the squirming teen’s cape; her fingers eagerly advancing towards the heroine’s short skirt.
To the media’s delight, the Girl of Steel lived up to the billing. As the hem of her skirt was raised like a curtain, the cameras zoomed in on her perfect cheeks. Her blue leotard seemingly stretched to its limit by the firm bounty of her youth.
Riven had yearned for this moment. She could already sense the dampness in her panties growing even before filling her hands with Supergirl’s sensual flesh. The warmth of the Maid of Might’s smooth backside causing her to shudder.
Supergirl cringed, disgusted by the look on Riven’s wanting face. She’s enjoying this! Twisting and grinding, the heroic teen worked feverishly to lessen the bend in her spine. Her hands pushing frantically, with every pant and gasp, against the woman’s broad shoulders—desperate to stop the hulking beauty from snapping her in two.
“Can you feel it Supergirl?” More beast than human, Riven’s voice sounded guttural, while she clawed, with animal like lust, at the Girl of Steel’s sweat-lathered ass. Mercilessly taunting the squirming heroine in feral triumph, “come on babes, the world is watching.”
It took everything the Girl of Steel had to withstand her foe’s orgasmic squeeze. At every point of contact, she could feel Riven’s muscle-shredded frame grating against her own—the cruel pressure forcing perspiration to ooze out from her pores.
But it wasn’t until she felt her foe’s larger bust pressing back her own that a look of disgust swept across Supergirl’s face. Cringing from the feel of her opponent’s sweat mixing with her own. Her costume uncomfortably sucking onto her skin, even as her S all but vanished before her foe’s invading bosom.
Calling in vain upon her heat-vision, Supergirl could no longer deny that something was wrong—not with her lungs burning with every breath. Finally, with her head spinning, it dawned on the heroic beauty that Riven wasn’t actually growing stronger. It’s not her; it’s me! I’m getting weaker. The virus… it’s draining my powers! That’s what Riven was waiting for.
Even the media could tell that something was wrong. Despite the nourishing rays of the sun washing over her, Supergirl looked tired. Her body exhausted from the struggle. From her disappearing chest to her watering eyes, bugging with every scream, the cameras soaked up her agony—fueling a ratings bonanza.
While the world had grown accustomed to Supergirl’s god-like feats – her slender frame defying not just gravity, but all humanity had come to believe – none could deny that she was in trouble. In comparison to her far more chiseled foe, Supergirl looked soft. Her long limbs and toned figure suddenly more girl than super.
Approaching another climax, Riven felt the heroic beauty wilt beneath her gaze. She was clearly in ascendance; hungry to devour her prey. “Power has spoiled you! Lavished by privilege, you’ve become weak. You could have been unstoppable, but instead of developing your body you worked only to maintain your figure. Vanity has become your downfall.”
Riven’s words heightened the pain in Supergirl’s chest. Her once proud breasts scurrying, like air inside of a compressed balloon, to accommodate the demands of her far larger foe. In desperate need of air, the Maid of Might could feel her muscles seizing. Stars formed along the periphery of her vision, causing her mind to chant, I can’t…I can’t as she edged ever closer to darkness.
After such a prolonged exposure, her body was simply no longer capable of resisting the effects of the virus. The pulsing veins in her temples unneeded reminders of the peril she faced. Either she found a way to break free or she would die, here and now. Her defeat broadcast before the world, with her enemy’s never-ending orgasm ringing in her ears.
Come on Kara, you can do this. Willing herself to dig deep, Supergirl screamed, summoning what little strength remained in her pain-riddled frame. Reacting purely on instinct, she latched onto Riven’s head, pulling it back, and slamming it against her own.
CRACK!
Shaking the pain from her skull, Supergirl attempted to regain her bearings. Her mind swirling. Throbbing. She was surprised to find herself standing. Barely able to maintain her balance, with each new spasm, she could feel her muscles locking up.
Leaning forward to rest, her hands nearly slipped upon her sweat-soaked knees. Desperate for air, Supergirl’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding. She could feel it thumping insider her chest as she watched perspiration drip from her face to form an ever-growing puddle between her trembling legs.
Supergirl had never felt this exhausted. And yet, rest was the one thing she couldn’t afford. As her vision cleared, she could see the mad swirl in Riven’s eyes fading back to their original brown.
Sensing her moment, Supergirl felt a burst of oxygen. The rush of endorphins willing her forward, helping push past the lactic acid that had all but stiffened her limbs.
Lumbering towards her staggering foe, Supergirl dared not hold back. Even as her opponent screamed, temporarily blinded by the blood that dripped from the newly-opened gash along her forehead, Supergirl unleashed everything she had with a belching yell. Her knuckles tearing into Riven’s cheek, driving the towering woman back.
Again. And again, Supergirl struck—the warmth of her opponent’s blood coating her fists with every haymaker.
Her hulking foe was ready to fall. Limbs flailing. Legs wobbling. Riven’s momentum was already carrying her back; all Supergirl needed was to land one final blow and victory would surely be hers.
Drawing back her fist, Supergirl felt the failures; humiliations…all the doubts beginning to fade. Once she was standing over her opponent they would all be washed away along with the narrative that Bin and The Swarm had been trying to weave.
Except, she didn’t connect—not fully. With her adrenaline waning, the aches and pains started to take their toll. Cringing from the pain, the Maid of Might no longer felt in control of her limbs. Distracted by the burning in her muscles, she looked on with horror as she misjudged the timing of her swing.
Instead of impacting Riven’s rapidly swelling cheek, Supergirl’s blood-coated knuckles glanced across her wobbling foe’s chin. While the snap in Riven’s head played well for the cameras, Supergirl’s punch was more show than substance. Her opponent had already been leaning back, her momentum absorbing most of the power, ensuring the colonel remained on her feet.
The twinkle in the villainess’ eyes confirmed Supergirl’s fear. Without a word, the woman’s crazed stare had returned. The streaks of orange and green flaring-up, stronger than ever, around her cold, dark pupils. Her deathly look, enhanced by the multiple smears of blood lining her face, said it all—the Maid of Might had missed her chance.
The fight was back on.
To be continued ...
I know, it’s been a while—apologies.
The next chapter is below…but first:
I’ve been debating, for some time, whether or not to continue publishing this story. I delayed, in part, because an eminent writer on this site, and one whose stories I admire, accused me of plagiarizing the works of Seraoni. Which, for obvious reasons, I didn’t appreciate, including the fact that…well, that’s me.
After many years of inactivity, I joined this site hoping for a fresh start. Writing has always been a struggle, as much then as now. And the chance to try again, to see if I could do better, was appealing. That being said, all my stories – old and new – have always been available on another site, so the attempt, at best, was a bit of an open secret.
The second reason I’ve hesitated is the global pandemic. When I started writing this particular tale – over a year ago – the idea of concocting a non-specified virus to defeat Supergirl made sense. But, obviously, today things are different.
While the first reason is just shitty, the second, in particular, has been difficult to wrestle with. Ultimately, the story centers around Supergirl’s defeat and not the virus, and, in my mind, that’s important. As is the fact that I started writing this, well before the pandemic.
That said, what’s happening around the world is horrific. And I’m certainly not looking to make light of people’s suffering. To be clear: this is a work of fan fiction, meant to entertain and nothing more. I do not condone or celebrate violence of any type. For heaven’s sake, be decent.
The last reason I’ve decided to continue is that people we’re enjoying the story. At least, I hope they were. Your views, comments and general support keep me going—thank you. I hope, in time, I can win readers back. When I started, I said I’d deliver at least until the end of Act II, and I intend to make good on that promise. So, without further delay, here’s the first of the final nine updates.
Stay safe and hope you enjoy.
_____________________________
----------------------------------38---------------------------------
Like a thick smog, Supergirl was choking on self-doubt. Her paralysis heightened by the dizzying lights of the cameras. The missile, the press conference, revealing my identity…it’s all been building to this. Defeating me in public is the last step. Her heart pounding, Supergirl’s mind burrowed, wallowing in darkness.
With a curl of her lips, Riven sensed that victory was nigh. The worry on the young blonde’s face reminding her of a favorite adage: everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth. Refusing to leave anything to chance, the colonel reached out, encircling Supergirl’s narrow waist in her massive arms.
The Girl of Steel’s head flew back as her foe pulled her near. Her screams blasting into the air from the pain ridding her spine. Desperate for relief, the young blonde’s hands shot down—her fingers slipping on the colonel’s sweat glistening arms, struggling to break free.
“Tell me Supergirl, when was the last time you faced adversity?” asked Riven, relishing the heroine’s frantic efforts to escape.
With Supergirl’s tight, feminine frame pressing against her own, Riven could no longer contain her excitement. Drawn to the Maid of Might’ smooth, slippery legs, the mouth-watering contours of the Girl of Steel’s bum called to her.
Even beneath her cape, the athletic blonde’s taut, round glutes popped with sexual perfection—one side bouncing off the other with every desperate flutter from her red boots.
Her pleasure mounting, Riven tightened her deadly embrace. The feel of Supergirl’s hot breath, bathing her neck, fueling her desires. Unable to resist, she brushed aside the squirming teen’s cape; her fingers eagerly advancing towards the heroine’s short skirt.
To the media’s delight, the Girl of Steel lived up to the billing. As the hem of her skirt was raised like a curtain, the cameras zoomed in on her perfect cheeks. Her blue leotard seemingly stretched to its limit by the firm bounty of her youth.
Riven had yearned for this moment. She could already sense the dampness in her panties growing even before filling her hands with Supergirl’s sensual flesh. The warmth of the Maid of Might’s smooth backside causing her to shudder.
Supergirl cringed, disgusted by the look on Riven’s wanting face. She’s enjoying this! Twisting and grinding, the heroic teen worked feverishly to lessen the bend in her spine. Her hands pushing frantically, with every pant and gasp, against the woman’s broad shoulders—desperate to stop the hulking beauty from snapping her in two.
“Can you feel it Supergirl?” More beast than human, Riven’s voice sounded guttural, while she clawed, with animal like lust, at the Girl of Steel’s sweat-lathered ass. Mercilessly taunting the squirming heroine in feral triumph, “come on babes, the world is watching.”
It took everything the Girl of Steel had to withstand her foe’s orgasmic squeeze. At every point of contact, she could feel Riven’s muscle-shredded frame grating against her own—the cruel pressure forcing perspiration to ooze out from her pores.
But it wasn’t until she felt her foe’s larger bust pressing back her own that a look of disgust swept across Supergirl’s face. Cringing from the feel of her opponent’s sweat mixing with her own. Her costume uncomfortably sucking onto her skin, even as her S all but vanished before her foe’s invading bosom.
Calling in vain upon her heat-vision, Supergirl could no longer deny that something was wrong—not with her lungs burning with every breath. Finally, with her head spinning, it dawned on the heroic beauty that Riven wasn’t actually growing stronger. It’s not her; it’s me! I’m getting weaker. The virus… it’s draining my powers! That’s what Riven was waiting for.
Even the media could tell that something was wrong. Despite the nourishing rays of the sun washing over her, Supergirl looked tired. Her body exhausted from the struggle. From her disappearing chest to her watering eyes, bugging with every scream, the cameras soaked up her agony—fueling a ratings bonanza.
While the world had grown accustomed to Supergirl’s god-like feats – her slender frame defying not just gravity, but all humanity had come to believe – none could deny that she was in trouble. In comparison to her far more chiseled foe, Supergirl looked soft. Her long limbs and toned figure suddenly more girl than super.
Approaching another climax, Riven felt the heroic beauty wilt beneath her gaze. She was clearly in ascendance; hungry to devour her prey. “Power has spoiled you! Lavished by privilege, you’ve become weak. You could have been unstoppable, but instead of developing your body you worked only to maintain your figure. Vanity has become your downfall.”
Riven’s words heightened the pain in Supergirl’s chest. Her once proud breasts scurrying, like air inside of a compressed balloon, to accommodate the demands of her far larger foe. In desperate need of air, the Maid of Might could feel her muscles seizing. Stars formed along the periphery of her vision, causing her mind to chant, I can’t…I can’t as she edged ever closer to darkness.
After such a prolonged exposure, her body was simply no longer capable of resisting the effects of the virus. The pulsing veins in her temples unneeded reminders of the peril she faced. Either she found a way to break free or she would die, here and now. Her defeat broadcast before the world, with her enemy’s never-ending orgasm ringing in her ears.
Come on Kara, you can do this. Willing herself to dig deep, Supergirl screamed, summoning what little strength remained in her pain-riddled frame. Reacting purely on instinct, she latched onto Riven’s head, pulling it back, and slamming it against her own.
CRACK!
Shaking the pain from her skull, Supergirl attempted to regain her bearings. Her mind swirling. Throbbing. She was surprised to find herself standing. Barely able to maintain her balance, with each new spasm, she could feel her muscles locking up.
Leaning forward to rest, her hands nearly slipped upon her sweat-soaked knees. Desperate for air, Supergirl’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding. She could feel it thumping insider her chest as she watched perspiration drip from her face to form an ever-growing puddle between her trembling legs.
Supergirl had never felt this exhausted. And yet, rest was the one thing she couldn’t afford. As her vision cleared, she could see the mad swirl in Riven’s eyes fading back to their original brown.
Sensing her moment, Supergirl felt a burst of oxygen. The rush of endorphins willing her forward, helping push past the lactic acid that had all but stiffened her limbs.
Lumbering towards her staggering foe, Supergirl dared not hold back. Even as her opponent screamed, temporarily blinded by the blood that dripped from the newly-opened gash along her forehead, Supergirl unleashed everything she had with a belching yell. Her knuckles tearing into Riven’s cheek, driving the towering woman back.
Again. And again, Supergirl struck—the warmth of her opponent’s blood coating her fists with every haymaker.
Her hulking foe was ready to fall. Limbs flailing. Legs wobbling. Riven’s momentum was already carrying her back; all Supergirl needed was to land one final blow and victory would surely be hers.
Drawing back her fist, Supergirl felt the failures; humiliations…all the doubts beginning to fade. Once she was standing over her opponent they would all be washed away along with the narrative that Bin and The Swarm had been trying to weave.
Except, she didn’t connect—not fully. With her adrenaline waning, the aches and pains started to take their toll. Cringing from the pain, the Maid of Might no longer felt in control of her limbs. Distracted by the burning in her muscles, she looked on with horror as she misjudged the timing of her swing.
Instead of impacting Riven’s rapidly swelling cheek, Supergirl’s blood-coated knuckles glanced across her wobbling foe’s chin. While the snap in Riven’s head played well for the cameras, Supergirl’s punch was more show than substance. Her opponent had already been leaning back, her momentum absorbing most of the power, ensuring the colonel remained on her feet.
The twinkle in the villainess’ eyes confirmed Supergirl’s fear. Without a word, the woman’s crazed stare had returned. The streaks of orange and green flaring-up, stronger than ever, around her cold, dark pupils. Her deathly look, enhanced by the multiple smears of blood lining her face, said it all—the Maid of Might had missed her chance.
The fight was back on.
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 6 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Glad folks are jumping back on board. I was worried after such a long hiatus but your comments and PM's have been encouraging—thank you.
Here's the latest.
_____________________________
----------------------------------39---------------------------------
Rushing to re-establish her footing, the Girl of Steel’s red boots skidded to a stop—her body rebelling as the vibrations rattled her toned legs. A look of worry washed over Supergirl’s sweat-lathered face from the hurt. She had nearly blown her shoulder on that last swing.
It had been years since the heroic teen had felt physical discomfort. The sight of not only her opponent’s blood but her own – dripping down, staining her fingers – made things all too real. Suddenly, Supergirl’s concentration shifted. Instead of focusing on her foe, she worried more about the pain in her gashed knuckles.
-
-
Riven shared no such compulsions. Having grown up in battle, the villainess had long learned to feed off the hurt. To allow its nourishment to sharpen her senses; fueling her ability to push beyond perceived limits.
By the time the Girl of Steel comprehended the danger it was too late. Riven was now the one riding a second wind, easily slipping beneath Supergirl’s looping fist to deliver one of her own.
Clutching her side, the heroic teen wanted to scream, but the air got caught in her throat. Staggering from the pain, she could feel it burrowing into her kidney—zapping the energy from her body. Until, without warning, her wobbling legs turned to rubber.
But, instead of collapsing onto the ground, the Girl of Steel remained suspended in midair. Her sleek legs dangling beneath her, scraping her boots against the gravel, as her opponent took hold of her cape.
“See how soft you’ve become,” taunted Riven, yanking the moaning beauty back up onto her feet. Surveying her options, the villainess made note of the surrounding construction cranes, but settled on the adjacent row of mining trucks. Satisfied that the yellow monstrosities would suit her purpose, the hulking beauty took aim.
The only uncertainly was whether Supergirl’s cape would hold long enough for Riven to complete her pitch. She could already hear the red fabric tearing as she spun the flailing heroine above her head. Nevertheless, the villainess pressed on. Leaping from one muscular leg to the other to build up speed, until, finally, with one violent whip of her arm, Riven released the screaming blonde.
Supergirl’s bones rattled from her toes to her brain as she slammed against the trucks. The brief, but pleasurable, rush of air that had accompanied her flight quickly displaced by a gripping pain in her spine. Like dominoes, the vehicles had slammed – one into the other – leaving her implanted in a twisted shell of metal.
-
-
With a grunt, the heroic teen managed to pry herself free from the crumpled mass—unsure if her jello-y legs were still capable of supporting her.
Much like her costume, Supergirl was barely keeping it together. With her cape hanging precariously from only one side, she looked on with dismay at her exposed shoulder. The resulting tear plunging beyond her neckline. In truth, it wasn’t the stitching, but her sweat that was keeping her costume clinging tight against her torso.
“Tick, tock.”
Startled, the Maid of Might turned towards the approaching gruff voice. I’ve got to stop her…come on Kara…don't give up. Willing herself forward, Supergirl raised her fists. One good shot, that’s all I need.
But even after wiping the sweat from her eyes, Supergirl’s vision remained split. Straining to focus, she could feel her muscles twitching. Her mind racing, unable to discern whether her attacker was on her left or her right.
“Tick, tock.”
Supergirl felt her world crumbling with every passing second. All she was…believed herself to be was on the line. With her chest heaving, desperate for air, the two hands groping towards her suddenly appeared as six. Whatever happened, she knew that what followed would define not just her legacy…but her life.
“Time’s up.”
In panic, Supergirl lashed out. Her cramps squeezing, pinching her muscles. But the sight of Riven, gripping her hips—seemingly daring her to attack, propelled her forward. One blow, then another crashed against the villainess’ armored stomach.
Despite the pain shooting up her hands, Supergirl dared not hold back. Visibly cringing with every blow, she pressed forward, forcing Riven to retreat. With a scream, she completed her flurry with a shattering blow to her foe’s chiseled chin. By the end, Supergirl looked much like she felt—a spent force.
Gasping for breath, Supergirl looked up—eager to ascertain the damage. But as Riven’s head snapped back, exorcising the pain from her jaw with a loud click, the Girl of Steel barely had time to react to the danger.
While Riven’s stomach had held firm, Supergirl’s abs reverberated with every blow. The heroic teen could already feel her legendary core softening—her opponent’s relentless assault heightening the pitch of her screams.
Hacking and coughing, she pleaded for Riven to stop. But the hulking beauty, verging on yet another orgasm, charged on with boundless rage. Seemingly feeding off the Maid of Might’s suffering, the villainess’ body quivered with excitement. Her lusting eyes riding the smooth lines of the heroine’s abs in a sadistic concoction of desire and destruction.
Supergirl tried to fight Riven off. Flailing her hands towards the moaning woman’s face, yet the muscle-clad beauty kept coming. Her massive fists devastating Supergirl’s core, with gut wrenching brutality.
-
-
Sputtering up brown knots of mucus, Supergirl desperately pushed Riven back. Her eyes welling with tears, as she wrapped her arms around her rapidly swelling belly. Breathless, she could feel her stomach twitching, pressing uncomfortably against her belt, as if some alien were growing inside.
“See, how victory has weakened you,” roared Riven. Her voice fluctuating, groaning with desire. She was so close. But not even a pleasure-filled squeeze of her own breasts could force her orgasm to surface.
Biting down on her lower lip in frustration, Riven returned her attention to the Maid of Might.
“Please,” begged Supergirl, sensing the woman’s eyes washing over her arm-wrapped waistline. Attempting to escape, Supergirl was stunned by her inability to move. Having lost track of her surroundings she glanced back in dismay. The trucks! She was hemmed in.
Supergirl’s mind begun to spin. Stricken with panic, she could feel her chest rattling, struggling to take in oxygen.
“You’ve become stagnant! Predictable! Weak!” With a scream, Riven casually avoided Supergirl’s fumbling fists. Relishing the fear in the sweat-lathered blonde’s eyes, the hulking beauty stepped in for the kill.
Her punch, instantly, shattering the young blonde’s cheek bone, causing it to swell candy apple red. However, it was Supergirl’s screams that catapulted the villainess back onto the edge.
While Supergirl was knocked back into the wall of crumpled trucks, Riven sprung forward with increased vigor. Tearing Supergirl’s arms away from her belly, she began to feel an unmistakable rush of warmth. The massive wave building between her legs, propelling her to punch harder; faster with every blow.
To be continued ...
Here's the latest.
_____________________________
----------------------------------39---------------------------------
Rushing to re-establish her footing, the Girl of Steel’s red boots skidded to a stop—her body rebelling as the vibrations rattled her toned legs. A look of worry washed over Supergirl’s sweat-lathered face from the hurt. She had nearly blown her shoulder on that last swing.
It had been years since the heroic teen had felt physical discomfort. The sight of not only her opponent’s blood but her own – dripping down, staining her fingers – made things all too real. Suddenly, Supergirl’s concentration shifted. Instead of focusing on her foe, she worried more about the pain in her gashed knuckles.
-
- Supergirl by Gary Frank
- Supergirl-fist.jpg (394.38 KiB) Viewed 17369 times
Riven shared no such compulsions. Having grown up in battle, the villainess had long learned to feed off the hurt. To allow its nourishment to sharpen her senses; fueling her ability to push beyond perceived limits.
By the time the Girl of Steel comprehended the danger it was too late. Riven was now the one riding a second wind, easily slipping beneath Supergirl’s looping fist to deliver one of her own.
Clutching her side, the heroic teen wanted to scream, but the air got caught in her throat. Staggering from the pain, she could feel it burrowing into her kidney—zapping the energy from her body. Until, without warning, her wobbling legs turned to rubber.
But, instead of collapsing onto the ground, the Girl of Steel remained suspended in midair. Her sleek legs dangling beneath her, scraping her boots against the gravel, as her opponent took hold of her cape.
“See how soft you’ve become,” taunted Riven, yanking the moaning beauty back up onto her feet. Surveying her options, the villainess made note of the surrounding construction cranes, but settled on the adjacent row of mining trucks. Satisfied that the yellow monstrosities would suit her purpose, the hulking beauty took aim.
The only uncertainly was whether Supergirl’s cape would hold long enough for Riven to complete her pitch. She could already hear the red fabric tearing as she spun the flailing heroine above her head. Nevertheless, the villainess pressed on. Leaping from one muscular leg to the other to build up speed, until, finally, with one violent whip of her arm, Riven released the screaming blonde.
Supergirl’s bones rattled from her toes to her brain as she slammed against the trucks. The brief, but pleasurable, rush of air that had accompanied her flight quickly displaced by a gripping pain in her spine. Like dominoes, the vehicles had slammed – one into the other – leaving her implanted in a twisted shell of metal.
-
- Supergirl by Gary Frank
- Supergirl-toss.jpg (363.5 KiB) Viewed 17369 times
With a grunt, the heroic teen managed to pry herself free from the crumpled mass—unsure if her jello-y legs were still capable of supporting her.
Much like her costume, Supergirl was barely keeping it together. With her cape hanging precariously from only one side, she looked on with dismay at her exposed shoulder. The resulting tear plunging beyond her neckline. In truth, it wasn’t the stitching, but her sweat that was keeping her costume clinging tight against her torso.
“Tick, tock.”
Startled, the Maid of Might turned towards the approaching gruff voice. I’ve got to stop her…come on Kara…don't give up. Willing herself forward, Supergirl raised her fists. One good shot, that’s all I need.
But even after wiping the sweat from her eyes, Supergirl’s vision remained split. Straining to focus, she could feel her muscles twitching. Her mind racing, unable to discern whether her attacker was on her left or her right.
“Tick, tock.”
Supergirl felt her world crumbling with every passing second. All she was…believed herself to be was on the line. With her chest heaving, desperate for air, the two hands groping towards her suddenly appeared as six. Whatever happened, she knew that what followed would define not just her legacy…but her life.
“Time’s up.”
In panic, Supergirl lashed out. Her cramps squeezing, pinching her muscles. But the sight of Riven, gripping her hips—seemingly daring her to attack, propelled her forward. One blow, then another crashed against the villainess’ armored stomach.
Despite the pain shooting up her hands, Supergirl dared not hold back. Visibly cringing with every blow, she pressed forward, forcing Riven to retreat. With a scream, she completed her flurry with a shattering blow to her foe’s chiseled chin. By the end, Supergirl looked much like she felt—a spent force.
Gasping for breath, Supergirl looked up—eager to ascertain the damage. But as Riven’s head snapped back, exorcising the pain from her jaw with a loud click, the Girl of Steel barely had time to react to the danger.
While Riven’s stomach had held firm, Supergirl’s abs reverberated with every blow. The heroic teen could already feel her legendary core softening—her opponent’s relentless assault heightening the pitch of her screams.
Hacking and coughing, she pleaded for Riven to stop. But the hulking beauty, verging on yet another orgasm, charged on with boundless rage. Seemingly feeding off the Maid of Might’s suffering, the villainess’ body quivered with excitement. Her lusting eyes riding the smooth lines of the heroine’s abs in a sadistic concoction of desire and destruction.
Supergirl tried to fight Riven off. Flailing her hands towards the moaning woman’s face, yet the muscle-clad beauty kept coming. Her massive fists devastating Supergirl’s core, with gut wrenching brutality.
-
- Supergirl by Chris Gardner and Jason Armstrong
- Supergirl-mouth.jpg (506.4 KiB) Viewed 17369 times
Sputtering up brown knots of mucus, Supergirl desperately pushed Riven back. Her eyes welling with tears, as she wrapped her arms around her rapidly swelling belly. Breathless, she could feel her stomach twitching, pressing uncomfortably against her belt, as if some alien were growing inside.
“See, how victory has weakened you,” roared Riven. Her voice fluctuating, groaning with desire. She was so close. But not even a pleasure-filled squeeze of her own breasts could force her orgasm to surface.
Biting down on her lower lip in frustration, Riven returned her attention to the Maid of Might.
“Please,” begged Supergirl, sensing the woman’s eyes washing over her arm-wrapped waistline. Attempting to escape, Supergirl was stunned by her inability to move. Having lost track of her surroundings she glanced back in dismay. The trucks! She was hemmed in.
Supergirl’s mind begun to spin. Stricken with panic, she could feel her chest rattling, struggling to take in oxygen.
“You’ve become stagnant! Predictable! Weak!” With a scream, Riven casually avoided Supergirl’s fumbling fists. Relishing the fear in the sweat-lathered blonde’s eyes, the hulking beauty stepped in for the kill.
Her punch, instantly, shattering the young blonde’s cheek bone, causing it to swell candy apple red. However, it was Supergirl’s screams that catapulted the villainess back onto the edge.
While Supergirl was knocked back into the wall of crumpled trucks, Riven sprung forward with increased vigor. Tearing Supergirl’s arms away from her belly, she began to feel an unmistakable rush of warmth. The massive wave building between her legs, propelling her to punch harder; faster with every blow.
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 6 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Sorry for not having commented recently on this continued story, GOS. I got very busy with my own writing but I finally made time to read your last few chapters. Amazing stuff, really! Your concerns about the flow of this battle being off are quite baseless. You've given us some of your best work here, tbh. The ebb and flow of success shifting back and forth between Supergirl and Riven are delicious, from the physicality to the emotional content. Couldn't be better. Thanks, as always for sharing. And pay no mind to the issue of this being a viral enemy. How could you know what was to occur. Honestly it was an ingenious device and remains so.
-
Get Your Exxon
- Henchman
- Posts: 57
- Joined: 8 years ago
Doc nailed it - luv the back and forward. Actually had to stop reading several times because of it. The action, the damage, Supergirl has her hands full and so do I (he he).
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Big, big thanks to Dr.D and Exxon for your comments—very kind (totally not worthy).
To be honest, thank you never seems sufficient. It's reassuring to hear that people are enjoying. But even if you're not, I'd love to hear why. Criticism, unlike silence, I can handle.
On with the show.
p.s. I might circle back an add images. Still debating if these add value.
_____________________________
----------------------------------40---------------------------------
A year ago, she had failed to break the Girl of Steel, this time Riven was determined to succeed. Craving the Maid of Might’s guttural screams, the hulking beauty plowed her fists into the heroine’s taut abs—her ascent toward ecstasy accelerated by every organ-squishing squeal.
The colonel celebrated her victory with an explosive roar. Her sweat-glistening muscles pulsing, emphasizing the rock-hard bulge of her biceps, while her fist remained seemingly buried inside Supergirl’s stomach.
Awash with sexual fervor, Riven began to buck. Her black, military boots stomping, in animalistic fashion, from the orgasmic wave. Lathered in both sweat and desire, she could feel her underwear clinging to her vagina. Her skin tingling, excited by the tears streaking Supergirl’s face. While a warm, all-embracing shutter tantalized her senses with every fresh eruption of blood from the crying heroine’s mouth.
“What’s the matter babes?” teased Riven, bathing in the afterglow of release. Refusing to let Supergirl collapse to the ground, she planted her hand between the heroine’s breasts—wringing sweat from the groaning Maid of Might’s costume as she lifted her into the air.
-
-
“What’s the matter hero?” Riven teased in her British-infused accent. But it was the thundering slaps to Supergirl’s sweat glistening cheeks that brought out her smile. Like the ouroboros inked across her stomach, she had completed her cycle. Having risen from the ashes of defeat, it was time to enjoy her spoils. Relishing Supergirl’s fear she playfully mocked, “aren’t you gonna save the day?”
With her face welting under Riven’s punishing strikes, all Supergirl could do was wail. Her failure to respond heightening her humiliation. No longer able to look her conqueror in the eyes, she shifted her tear-filled gaze towards the bright lights of the circling press.
Her embarrassment deepened upon spotting a pair of cameramen wearing t-shirts emblazoned with replicas of her world-famous logo.
Even now, the men cheered her on. But as Riven rained down blow after blow, she could hear the crack in their voices. The resulting silence, broken by both gasps and prayers for the damage being inflicted upon her rapidly welting face. And yet – despite her swollen belly, and blood-spewing lips – many continued to believe that she could still turn things around. After all, she was the Girl of Steel and she had never been defeated.
-
-
Riven was under no such delusions. “Tell them!” she shouted, stretching out a hand towards the press, while the other drew the teary-eyed blonde closer, so that she could better appreciate her handiwork. “Tell the people what they already know.”
Suspended in the air, Supergirl’s thoughts drifted to her vagina—and the painful wedgie she was being forced to endure. Riven’s hold on her S had already enlarged the existing tears in her damaged sleeve. And now, with the crotch of her costume bearing the full brunt of her weight, she feared that it too could snap.
Feeding off the heroine’s distress, Riven straightened her arm, thrusting the squirming Supergirl back up into the air. “You can lie to the media. You can even lie to your fans. But you can’t bullshit yourself. Not when my face will forever haunt you in the mirror. Now, tell them,” hollered Riven, motioning, yet again, towards the cameras, “who the real super girl is.”
With her muscles twitching uncontrollably, Riven’s name floated to the tip of Supergirl’s tongue. All she had to do was couple her quivering voice to her heaving breath. To attach her surrender to the droplets of blood that were already spewing from her mouth.
Holding back tears, the Maid of Might could sense that Riven was losing patience. Her trembling eyes gravitating towards the woman’s freshly formed fist—a reminder – along with her own throbbing belly – of the consequences of noncompliance. But even as her costume wedged deeper into her vagina, the heroic teen hesitated. With her friends surely dead and her secret identity revealed, the persona of Supergirl was all she had left.
Jaw trembling, the young blonde locked eyes upon her foe. Faced with the prospect of surrendering the last vestiges of her self-image, even the Girl of Steel was startled by the strength of her resolve as she brazenly shouted, “never!”
But instead of the expected punch, Riven delivered a kiss—locking her lips, with a wet smack, around the startled heroine’s mouth.
The Girl of Steel squealed, disgusted by Riven’s worming tongue. She wanted to fight back, but her limbs felt heavy—hanging lifelessly towards the ground as if tied down by weights. All Supergirl could do, to prevent herself from choking on the blood swishing in and out of her mouth, was to meekly shake her head in protest.
Breaking off the kiss, Riven’s eyes appeared wilder than ever.
The throbbing in the villainess’ veins sent a fresh shiver down Supergirl’s spine. Fear gripped her, as she watched the woman’s powerful fingers tighten around her S, wringing a fresh splatter of sweat from her costume.
The heroic blonde wanted to resist. To show the world that, contrary to the evidence, she wasn’t beaten. But, before she could react, she felt Riven’s free hand sweep between her thighs—rubbing against her crotch. Suddenly, Supergirl found herself hanging upside down—her wet hair flailing; legs kicking back-and-forth like scissors.
To the crowd’s astonishment, Riven slammed the screaming Maid of Might head first into the ground. Even for those watching at home, the brutality was horrific. With Supergirl lying motionless on the floor – limbs splayed, neck bent at an awkward angle – the media gasped, fearing the worst.
-
-
Riven alleviated these fears with a swift kick. Stomping her leg down to shock the Girl of Steel back to life.
A splash of blood accompanied Supergirl’s screams. Her eyes reddening from the hurt, as her breasts disappeared beneath Riven’s all-conquering boot.
As if pierced by a thousand needles, she felt paralyzed by the burning in her chest. Her tender flesh tearing beneath her assailant’s foot. Supergirl latched onto Riven’s black, military boot, desperate to alleviate the raking assault. But no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t free her breasts.
“Why do you prolong the inevitable?” taunted Riven. Laughing off the heroine’s defiant gaze with yet another stomp. The agony in the Maid of Might’s voice only increased the warmth rushing into the villainess’ loins.
With her face swollen and caked in dried blood, Supergirl could no longer feel the tears streaking her face. She could, however, see them in the reflection of the cameras. Glazed in sweat; hair clumped and sprawled in the dirt she felt her resolve waver.
Shaking her head, Supergirl attempted to refocus. She needed to improve her leverage. But as she planted her feet, feeling the burn in her hamstrings as she thrust her bum into the air, she realized that the cameras were capturing her every scream. The world was witnessing her destruction—from the devastation of her breasts to the prints from Riven’s boot smeared across her S.
And there, between her parted legs, stood Bin. Flashing a hate-filled glance, Supergirl lay helpless as the petite reporter offered a familiar, circular wave. Her camera moving ever closer towards her scantly covered crotch—drawn to the heroine’s sweat-glistening thighs and a mysterious white string that, along with her blue leotard, was tangled up between her feminine folds.
Unsure of how much, if any, of her vagina was actually exposed, Supergirl cried out in protest. Twisting and turning, she doubled her efforts to escape, but the rush of adrenaline was short lived. Already, she could feel her strength fading; her muscles visibly spasming despite her determination.
Fearing the inevitable, Supergirl tried to avoid the cameras. Her shame heightened by Riven’s impossibly taut flesh—rippling down in a perfect cascade of muscle. With a thud, Supergirl felt the air rush from her lungs as she was slammed back against the ground. Drowning in doubt, her mind swirled. Is there even any need to say it, she sobbed. Riven is right: the world can clearly see who the real super girl is.
Pleading with her foe, the Maid of Might felt like a fraud as the villainess injected a fresh wave of pain into her breasts.
With every scream, Supergirl began picturing Riven, not in her military-styled khakis and sports bra, but wearing the red, yellow and blue of her own iconic costume. The delicate fabric stretched to its limits by the villainess’ sculpted frame. Her ample bosom and pulsing muscles altering its fit in ways that Supergirl’s slender, less-curvy physique could never match.
Riven shuddered with pleasure upon recognizing the look of surrender on Supergirl’s face. She had waited years for this. And while she felt herself beginning to plateau, she wasn’t ready for the moment to end—not with her vagina bathed in an ever-growing pool of her own juices.
Grinding to the rhythm of her lust-filled moans, the hulking beauty yearned for more. Uncertain as to whether her sweet-soaked body was still capable of rekindling her desires. She had already lost track of her orgasms, but sensed that a bigger, greater reward remained ahead. Eagerly, Riven continued her assault on Supergirl’s battered breasts. Except, as she shifted forward, pressing her full weight down upon Supergirl’s chest, it quickly became apparent that feeding her libido would require more than just screams.
Fortunately, for Supergirl, Riven’s frustration was short lived. “I’ll tell you what babes,” teased the ripped goddess. Her lips curling up as she leaned down towards the pinned Girl of Steel. “Why don’t’ we let our audience decide whose chest that S really belongs to.”
With a yelp, Supergirl watched—her eyes bursting with fear, unable to prevent her opponent’s massive hands from taking hold of her costume.
“Don’t’ worry sweetheart,” said Riven, her voice lingering as she hoisted Supergirl into the air. Her hands devouring the heroine’s top; effortlessly ragdolling her before the cameras.
With every swing, Supergirl could hear the stitching in her costume starting to tear— transforming her once skin-tight top, into a seemingly loose-fitting shirt. Only around her crotch did her leotard remain firm. Grimacing from the pain, she could feel the smooth fabric splitting her vagina; digging into her most sensitive skin.
“Please…!” shouted Supergirl—saliva stretching between her bloodstained teeth.
Riven was using her own costume against her. Her massive hands gobbling up her S, increasing the pressure between her legs. “Please, I beg you,” repeated Supergirl, her voice swelling in tandem with the pain.
Oh…RAO!
She had been slow to recognize the depth of her foe’s intentions. “NOOOO,” protested the heroic teen, her jaw dropping as the woman’s wild eyes shot down.
“Like I was saying babes….” Riven’s voice boomed for all the crowd to hear. Her attention, however, remained squarely on the Girl of Steel’s panic-heaving chest. “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”
To be continued ...
To be honest, thank you never seems sufficient. It's reassuring to hear that people are enjoying. But even if you're not, I'd love to hear why. Criticism, unlike silence, I can handle.
On with the show.
p.s. I might circle back an add images. Still debating if these add value.
_____________________________
----------------------------------40---------------------------------
A year ago, she had failed to break the Girl of Steel, this time Riven was determined to succeed. Craving the Maid of Might’s guttural screams, the hulking beauty plowed her fists into the heroine’s taut abs—her ascent toward ecstasy accelerated by every organ-squishing squeal.
The colonel celebrated her victory with an explosive roar. Her sweat-glistening muscles pulsing, emphasizing the rock-hard bulge of her biceps, while her fist remained seemingly buried inside Supergirl’s stomach.
Awash with sexual fervor, Riven began to buck. Her black, military boots stomping, in animalistic fashion, from the orgasmic wave. Lathered in both sweat and desire, she could feel her underwear clinging to her vagina. Her skin tingling, excited by the tears streaking Supergirl’s face. While a warm, all-embracing shutter tantalized her senses with every fresh eruption of blood from the crying heroine’s mouth.
“What’s the matter babes?” teased Riven, bathing in the afterglow of release. Refusing to let Supergirl collapse to the ground, she planted her hand between the heroine’s breasts—wringing sweat from the groaning Maid of Might’s costume as she lifted her into the air.
-
- Supergirl by Greg Land
- Supergirl-lift.jpg (333.43 KiB) Viewed 15865 times
“What’s the matter hero?” Riven teased in her British-infused accent. But it was the thundering slaps to Supergirl’s sweat glistening cheeks that brought out her smile. Like the ouroboros inked across her stomach, she had completed her cycle. Having risen from the ashes of defeat, it was time to enjoy her spoils. Relishing Supergirl’s fear she playfully mocked, “aren’t you gonna save the day?”
With her face welting under Riven’s punishing strikes, all Supergirl could do was wail. Her failure to respond heightening her humiliation. No longer able to look her conqueror in the eyes, she shifted her tear-filled gaze towards the bright lights of the circling press.
Her embarrassment deepened upon spotting a pair of cameramen wearing t-shirts emblazoned with replicas of her world-famous logo.
Even now, the men cheered her on. But as Riven rained down blow after blow, she could hear the crack in their voices. The resulting silence, broken by both gasps and prayers for the damage being inflicted upon her rapidly welting face. And yet – despite her swollen belly, and blood-spewing lips – many continued to believe that she could still turn things around. After all, she was the Girl of Steel and she had never been defeated.
-
- Supergirl-Benoist.jpg (126.01 KiB) Viewed 15865 times
Riven was under no such delusions. “Tell them!” she shouted, stretching out a hand towards the press, while the other drew the teary-eyed blonde closer, so that she could better appreciate her handiwork. “Tell the people what they already know.”
Suspended in the air, Supergirl’s thoughts drifted to her vagina—and the painful wedgie she was being forced to endure. Riven’s hold on her S had already enlarged the existing tears in her damaged sleeve. And now, with the crotch of her costume bearing the full brunt of her weight, she feared that it too could snap.
Feeding off the heroine’s distress, Riven straightened her arm, thrusting the squirming Supergirl back up into the air. “You can lie to the media. You can even lie to your fans. But you can’t bullshit yourself. Not when my face will forever haunt you in the mirror. Now, tell them,” hollered Riven, motioning, yet again, towards the cameras, “who the real super girl is.”
With her muscles twitching uncontrollably, Riven’s name floated to the tip of Supergirl’s tongue. All she had to do was couple her quivering voice to her heaving breath. To attach her surrender to the droplets of blood that were already spewing from her mouth.
Holding back tears, the Maid of Might could sense that Riven was losing patience. Her trembling eyes gravitating towards the woman’s freshly formed fist—a reminder – along with her own throbbing belly – of the consequences of noncompliance. But even as her costume wedged deeper into her vagina, the heroic teen hesitated. With her friends surely dead and her secret identity revealed, the persona of Supergirl was all she had left.
Jaw trembling, the young blonde locked eyes upon her foe. Faced with the prospect of surrendering the last vestiges of her self-image, even the Girl of Steel was startled by the strength of her resolve as she brazenly shouted, “never!”
But instead of the expected punch, Riven delivered a kiss—locking her lips, with a wet smack, around the startled heroine’s mouth.
The Girl of Steel squealed, disgusted by Riven’s worming tongue. She wanted to fight back, but her limbs felt heavy—hanging lifelessly towards the ground as if tied down by weights. All Supergirl could do, to prevent herself from choking on the blood swishing in and out of her mouth, was to meekly shake her head in protest.
Breaking off the kiss, Riven’s eyes appeared wilder than ever.
The throbbing in the villainess’ veins sent a fresh shiver down Supergirl’s spine. Fear gripped her, as she watched the woman’s powerful fingers tighten around her S, wringing a fresh splatter of sweat from her costume.
The heroic blonde wanted to resist. To show the world that, contrary to the evidence, she wasn’t beaten. But, before she could react, she felt Riven’s free hand sweep between her thighs—rubbing against her crotch. Suddenly, Supergirl found herself hanging upside down—her wet hair flailing; legs kicking back-and-forth like scissors.
To the crowd’s astonishment, Riven slammed the screaming Maid of Might head first into the ground. Even for those watching at home, the brutality was horrific. With Supergirl lying motionless on the floor – limbs splayed, neck bent at an awkward angle – the media gasped, fearing the worst.
-
- Supergirl-Benoist2.jpg (211.64 KiB) Viewed 15865 times
Riven alleviated these fears with a swift kick. Stomping her leg down to shock the Girl of Steel back to life.
A splash of blood accompanied Supergirl’s screams. Her eyes reddening from the hurt, as her breasts disappeared beneath Riven’s all-conquering boot.
As if pierced by a thousand needles, she felt paralyzed by the burning in her chest. Her tender flesh tearing beneath her assailant’s foot. Supergirl latched onto Riven’s black, military boot, desperate to alleviate the raking assault. But no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t free her breasts.
“Why do you prolong the inevitable?” taunted Riven. Laughing off the heroine’s defiant gaze with yet another stomp. The agony in the Maid of Might’s voice only increased the warmth rushing into the villainess’ loins.
With her face swollen and caked in dried blood, Supergirl could no longer feel the tears streaking her face. She could, however, see them in the reflection of the cameras. Glazed in sweat; hair clumped and sprawled in the dirt she felt her resolve waver.
Shaking her head, Supergirl attempted to refocus. She needed to improve her leverage. But as she planted her feet, feeling the burn in her hamstrings as she thrust her bum into the air, she realized that the cameras were capturing her every scream. The world was witnessing her destruction—from the devastation of her breasts to the prints from Riven’s boot smeared across her S.
And there, between her parted legs, stood Bin. Flashing a hate-filled glance, Supergirl lay helpless as the petite reporter offered a familiar, circular wave. Her camera moving ever closer towards her scantly covered crotch—drawn to the heroine’s sweat-glistening thighs and a mysterious white string that, along with her blue leotard, was tangled up between her feminine folds.
Unsure of how much, if any, of her vagina was actually exposed, Supergirl cried out in protest. Twisting and turning, she doubled her efforts to escape, but the rush of adrenaline was short lived. Already, she could feel her strength fading; her muscles visibly spasming despite her determination.
Fearing the inevitable, Supergirl tried to avoid the cameras. Her shame heightened by Riven’s impossibly taut flesh—rippling down in a perfect cascade of muscle. With a thud, Supergirl felt the air rush from her lungs as she was slammed back against the ground. Drowning in doubt, her mind swirled. Is there even any need to say it, she sobbed. Riven is right: the world can clearly see who the real super girl is.
Pleading with her foe, the Maid of Might felt like a fraud as the villainess injected a fresh wave of pain into her breasts.
With every scream, Supergirl began picturing Riven, not in her military-styled khakis and sports bra, but wearing the red, yellow and blue of her own iconic costume. The delicate fabric stretched to its limits by the villainess’ sculpted frame. Her ample bosom and pulsing muscles altering its fit in ways that Supergirl’s slender, less-curvy physique could never match.
Riven shuddered with pleasure upon recognizing the look of surrender on Supergirl’s face. She had waited years for this. And while she felt herself beginning to plateau, she wasn’t ready for the moment to end—not with her vagina bathed in an ever-growing pool of her own juices.
Grinding to the rhythm of her lust-filled moans, the hulking beauty yearned for more. Uncertain as to whether her sweet-soaked body was still capable of rekindling her desires. She had already lost track of her orgasms, but sensed that a bigger, greater reward remained ahead. Eagerly, Riven continued her assault on Supergirl’s battered breasts. Except, as she shifted forward, pressing her full weight down upon Supergirl’s chest, it quickly became apparent that feeding her libido would require more than just screams.
Fortunately, for Supergirl, Riven’s frustration was short lived. “I’ll tell you what babes,” teased the ripped goddess. Her lips curling up as she leaned down towards the pinned Girl of Steel. “Why don’t’ we let our audience decide whose chest that S really belongs to.”
With a yelp, Supergirl watched—her eyes bursting with fear, unable to prevent her opponent’s massive hands from taking hold of her costume.
“Don’t’ worry sweetheart,” said Riven, her voice lingering as she hoisted Supergirl into the air. Her hands devouring the heroine’s top; effortlessly ragdolling her before the cameras.
With every swing, Supergirl could hear the stitching in her costume starting to tear— transforming her once skin-tight top, into a seemingly loose-fitting shirt. Only around her crotch did her leotard remain firm. Grimacing from the pain, she could feel the smooth fabric splitting her vagina; digging into her most sensitive skin.
“Please…!” shouted Supergirl—saliva stretching between her bloodstained teeth.
Riven was using her own costume against her. Her massive hands gobbling up her S, increasing the pressure between her legs. “Please, I beg you,” repeated Supergirl, her voice swelling in tandem with the pain.
Oh…RAO!
She had been slow to recognize the depth of her foe’s intentions. “NOOOO,” protested the heroic teen, her jaw dropping as the woman’s wild eyes shot down.
“Like I was saying babes….” Riven’s voice boomed for all the crowd to hear. Her attention, however, remained squarely on the Girl of Steel’s panic-heaving chest. “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 11 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
What a devastating beat down! Well-written as it was horrifying. Like watching a car accident, can't turn away.
-
Get Your Exxon
- Henchman
- Posts: 57
- Joined: 8 years ago
Really like where this is trending. No way SG recovers from this beat down. Ohh yeah you have a gift and she’s called Riven. just a wicked, wicked fight. Stay the course GOS and YES to images.
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Super appreciate all the comments and PMs. Can't say this enough...you're all stars.
Dr. D - Yes, definitely a bit of a car wreck. Hopefully folks don't need reminding but, just in case, this is a dungeon story. Buckle up and leave the kids behind.
Bert - Welcome to the site!? Always special to be someone's first. Would love to hear more about what you like, don't like vis-à-vis the story?
Exx - Too kind. At first, I wasn't happy with the fight but now, with hindsight, yeah, it worked (you sure it's over?). Sadly, I'm going to skip images for now...writing is hard enough.
Not much left now.
Enjoy
_____________________________
----------------------------------41---------------------------------
Enjoying the look of horror sweeping across Supergirl’s face, Riven’s large, meaty hands began tearing apart the young blonde’s top. Inflicting the deepest of psychological blows, as the damp fabric melted beneath her powerful grip.
With unsteady eyes, Supergirl watched as her S ripped down the middle. Tears flowing, struggling to recognize her once proud breasts. While Riven – working with the zeal of a child at Christmas – continued to split apart her costume, so all could bear witness to her bruised flesh.
Desperate to console her aching breasts, Supergirl rushed to cover up. But her hands remained frozen. With an audible gasp, her head spun left, then the right, stunned to see a pair of coils wrapping around her forearms.
“Hope you don’t mind,” beamed the colonel, fiendishly clasping her hands together, “I invited some friends. You remember Scarlatina and Taenia?”, asked Riven, with a nod towards her masked underlings.
Standing on opposite ends, the two armor-clad women began asserting their control—forcing the Girl of Steel’s arms away from her body.
Straining to resist, Supergirl couldn’t help but wonder about the third sister – Ague – the one she had tussled with back at Pearl. Through sweat-clumped hair, she raised a slow, shame-filled stare, terrified, not by the growing number of foes, but by the enormity of the crowd.
Beyond the frenzy of the media, stood a plethora of onlookers—workers from nearby factories as well as passersby. All held back by a cordon of police cars, hesitant to engage the wraiths and their guns. The one thing they had in common – regardless of age or skin color – was a shared sense of disbelief.
The crowd’s collective horror helped fuel Supergirl’s embarrassment. Until now, none had seen her break a sweat in combat, let alone believe she could ever be so thoroughly defeated: costume torn, breasts exposed, quivering and bruised before an undeniably superior foe.
The confusion on their faces amplified the pain in her bruise-darkened chest. Zapped of her youthful buoyancy, the Girl of Steel’s shame grew with every flip and flop of her formerly pert tits. Resigned to defeat, she turned to her conqueror, pleading not for her own safety, but for that of the surrounding crowd.
“Please…do what you want with me.” Laboring for breath, the anguish in Supergirl’s voice was clear. “Just, let these people go.” Scanning her hulking foe for some semblance of mercy, she frantically continued. “They’ve done nothing to you…they’re innocent.”
To her relief, Riven’s eyes no longer swirled. The fiery streaks of orange and green had receded, returning her irises to their usual brown. Thank Rao. Maybe she’s still human after all. But as the colonel resumed her approach, Supergirl’s heart continued to pound.
“Innocent!” huffed Riven.
Unsure of her foe’s intent, Supergirl winced, preparing for the worse. To everyone’s surprise, Riven’s arms shot up, not at Supergirl’s face but toward her own chest—grabbing her sports bra and, with one flashing whip of her hand, tearing it off.
The villainess’ tanned skin, which was already glistening with sweat, appeared to sparkle in the barrage of lights that followed. The cameras drawn to her gravity-defiant orbs. Her pride in full bloom as she stepped forward—releasing a sensual moan as skin slapped against slippery, bare skin.
Excited by the look of defeat washing over Supergirl’s face, Riven didn’t bother to look down. She didn’t need to; she could already feel her engorged nipples outdueling Supergirl’s. Her larger, firmer breasts easily pressing back the Girl of Steel’s.
“I’d lend you mine” teased Riven, displaying her torn, green sports bra to the captive heroine, with a twirl of her index finger. “But you’re a couple cups shy.”
“Please…” pleaded Supergirl, fighting back tears. Gazing at her sagging breasts as they cushioned her tormentor’s all-too-perfect chest.
“Hush,” said Riven, raising Supergirl’s chin. “Allow me to offer support.”
Supergirl instantly recognized the cruelty in the woman’s eyes. Thrashing wildly as Riven stepped back, Supergirl frantically tried to break free of her bonds. Helpless to prevent her tormentor’s hands from encircling her breasts.
Like a howitzer, Supergirl’s screams exploded into the air. Her head snapping back, releasing a puff of perspiration from her tangled, wet locks.
“What do you know of innocence,” stated Riven. Relishing the heroine’s breasts melting beneath her touch. With every squeeze and twist, she felt an unmistakable wave stirring deep inside. Finally, she was getting close.
Stomping her boots, the hulking beauty began to buck, welcoming the pleasurable explosion between her legs. Driven not by the veracity, but by the agony-laced timber of the Girl of Steel’s pleas she clamped down even harder—molding and distending Supergirl’s breasts into all manner of ungodly shapes.
“Admit it Supergirl,” groaned Riven, her hot breath washing over the heroine’s exposed neck as she leaned in for a taste. Her tongue lapping up Supergirl’s dripping sweat.
“Your popularity is rooted in nothing more than your blonde hair and looks,” groaned Riven. Her hands continuing to work the Girl of Steel’s tits with bruising brutality. Like a grotesque accordion she pulled and compressed Supergirl’s breasts—howling with delight at every squish and squeal as jolts of pain seized the heroine’s brain.
Stepping away, Riven paused to enjoy the sweet release. Shivering from the warmth dripping down her thighs, she couldn’t help but bite her lip in ecstasy. Never had she felt more alive. Delighted by both the adulation of the press and the lump-like sway of Supergirl’s inflamed tits. Just as Matron had promised she was unbound. The tingle between her legs urging her to complete her master’s plan.
With a deep-seeded moan, Riven turned back towards the Girl of Steel. Her tanned body glistening with excitement. “Glamor and sexuality, that’s your only true power.” Playfully raking Supergirl’s swollen chest she giggled at the pendulum-like sway. “Well babes, they won’t be calling you super anymore, not with those little mosquito bites.”
Beaming with hate, Supergirl met her conqueror with watery eyes. No longer able to feel her breasts, she began screaming wildly. Her drooping tits jiggling with every tear-filled spasm. “Bitch! I…I will stop you.”
Amused, Riven held her ground. Matching Supergirl’s stare even as she chuckled. “Hardly blue bird,” said the villainess, her voice calm as she clasped her hips and thrust out her chest. Strands from Supergirl’s costume still clinging beneath her nails.
Even though they were both bruised, bloodied and exposed, Supergirl was the only one who appeared undressed. Her slender frame held captive before a hulking foe. Her S ripped down the middle, flapping against her sides. While tears and sweat dripped from her swollen face, splashing against her mangled breasts.
“Despite all your might, empty promises of peace are all you’ve ever had to offer.” Riven punctuated her remark with a blood-splattering slap. Lashing her hand against Supergirl’s face, she delivered another. “Where were your pretty words when my people were being slaughtered.” Supergirl’s lips were already cut and bloody and still Riven unleashed her violence, yet again snapping the heroine’s head back. “Pregnant women, children…babies all gutted. Countless sisters-in-arms raped; their naked bodies left in the streets. Tell me, Girl of Steel, what happened to your precious peace?”
As Supergirl’s head rolled back into place, Riven pressed on, not with another slap, but by clutching Supergirl’s face—prompting a fresh splatter of blood as her fingers squeezed the groaning blonde’s swollen cheeks.
“You know what I think?” said Riven, allowing the ensuing silence to linger as the heroine’s eyes re-focused.
As Riven pulled near, Supergirl attempted to turn away from the stink of the villainess’ breath. But the boulder of a woman held her in place, spittle bursting from her mouth as she continued. “Only those too weak to conquer speak of peace.” Forcing Supergirl to look, not at her but toward a familiar figure in the crowd.
“Heath!”
To be continued ...
Dr. D - Yes, definitely a bit of a car wreck. Hopefully folks don't need reminding but, just in case, this is a dungeon story. Buckle up and leave the kids behind.
Bert - Welcome to the site!? Always special to be someone's first. Would love to hear more about what you like, don't like vis-à-vis the story?
Exx - Too kind. At first, I wasn't happy with the fight but now, with hindsight, yeah, it worked (you sure it's over?). Sadly, I'm going to skip images for now...writing is hard enough.
Not much left now.
Enjoy
_____________________________
----------------------------------41---------------------------------
Enjoying the look of horror sweeping across Supergirl’s face, Riven’s large, meaty hands began tearing apart the young blonde’s top. Inflicting the deepest of psychological blows, as the damp fabric melted beneath her powerful grip.
With unsteady eyes, Supergirl watched as her S ripped down the middle. Tears flowing, struggling to recognize her once proud breasts. While Riven – working with the zeal of a child at Christmas – continued to split apart her costume, so all could bear witness to her bruised flesh.
Desperate to console her aching breasts, Supergirl rushed to cover up. But her hands remained frozen. With an audible gasp, her head spun left, then the right, stunned to see a pair of coils wrapping around her forearms.
“Hope you don’t mind,” beamed the colonel, fiendishly clasping her hands together, “I invited some friends. You remember Scarlatina and Taenia?”, asked Riven, with a nod towards her masked underlings.
Standing on opposite ends, the two armor-clad women began asserting their control—forcing the Girl of Steel’s arms away from her body.
Straining to resist, Supergirl couldn’t help but wonder about the third sister – Ague – the one she had tussled with back at Pearl. Through sweat-clumped hair, she raised a slow, shame-filled stare, terrified, not by the growing number of foes, but by the enormity of the crowd.
Beyond the frenzy of the media, stood a plethora of onlookers—workers from nearby factories as well as passersby. All held back by a cordon of police cars, hesitant to engage the wraiths and their guns. The one thing they had in common – regardless of age or skin color – was a shared sense of disbelief.
The crowd’s collective horror helped fuel Supergirl’s embarrassment. Until now, none had seen her break a sweat in combat, let alone believe she could ever be so thoroughly defeated: costume torn, breasts exposed, quivering and bruised before an undeniably superior foe.
The confusion on their faces amplified the pain in her bruise-darkened chest. Zapped of her youthful buoyancy, the Girl of Steel’s shame grew with every flip and flop of her formerly pert tits. Resigned to defeat, she turned to her conqueror, pleading not for her own safety, but for that of the surrounding crowd.
“Please…do what you want with me.” Laboring for breath, the anguish in Supergirl’s voice was clear. “Just, let these people go.” Scanning her hulking foe for some semblance of mercy, she frantically continued. “They’ve done nothing to you…they’re innocent.”
To her relief, Riven’s eyes no longer swirled. The fiery streaks of orange and green had receded, returning her irises to their usual brown. Thank Rao. Maybe she’s still human after all. But as the colonel resumed her approach, Supergirl’s heart continued to pound.
“Innocent!” huffed Riven.
Unsure of her foe’s intent, Supergirl winced, preparing for the worse. To everyone’s surprise, Riven’s arms shot up, not at Supergirl’s face but toward her own chest—grabbing her sports bra and, with one flashing whip of her hand, tearing it off.
The villainess’ tanned skin, which was already glistening with sweat, appeared to sparkle in the barrage of lights that followed. The cameras drawn to her gravity-defiant orbs. Her pride in full bloom as she stepped forward—releasing a sensual moan as skin slapped against slippery, bare skin.
Excited by the look of defeat washing over Supergirl’s face, Riven didn’t bother to look down. She didn’t need to; she could already feel her engorged nipples outdueling Supergirl’s. Her larger, firmer breasts easily pressing back the Girl of Steel’s.
“I’d lend you mine” teased Riven, displaying her torn, green sports bra to the captive heroine, with a twirl of her index finger. “But you’re a couple cups shy.”
“Please…” pleaded Supergirl, fighting back tears. Gazing at her sagging breasts as they cushioned her tormentor’s all-too-perfect chest.
“Hush,” said Riven, raising Supergirl’s chin. “Allow me to offer support.”
Supergirl instantly recognized the cruelty in the woman’s eyes. Thrashing wildly as Riven stepped back, Supergirl frantically tried to break free of her bonds. Helpless to prevent her tormentor’s hands from encircling her breasts.
Like a howitzer, Supergirl’s screams exploded into the air. Her head snapping back, releasing a puff of perspiration from her tangled, wet locks.
“What do you know of innocence,” stated Riven. Relishing the heroine’s breasts melting beneath her touch. With every squeeze and twist, she felt an unmistakable wave stirring deep inside. Finally, she was getting close.
Stomping her boots, the hulking beauty began to buck, welcoming the pleasurable explosion between her legs. Driven not by the veracity, but by the agony-laced timber of the Girl of Steel’s pleas she clamped down even harder—molding and distending Supergirl’s breasts into all manner of ungodly shapes.
“Admit it Supergirl,” groaned Riven, her hot breath washing over the heroine’s exposed neck as she leaned in for a taste. Her tongue lapping up Supergirl’s dripping sweat.
“Your popularity is rooted in nothing more than your blonde hair and looks,” groaned Riven. Her hands continuing to work the Girl of Steel’s tits with bruising brutality. Like a grotesque accordion she pulled and compressed Supergirl’s breasts—howling with delight at every squish and squeal as jolts of pain seized the heroine’s brain.
Stepping away, Riven paused to enjoy the sweet release. Shivering from the warmth dripping down her thighs, she couldn’t help but bite her lip in ecstasy. Never had she felt more alive. Delighted by both the adulation of the press and the lump-like sway of Supergirl’s inflamed tits. Just as Matron had promised she was unbound. The tingle between her legs urging her to complete her master’s plan.
With a deep-seeded moan, Riven turned back towards the Girl of Steel. Her tanned body glistening with excitement. “Glamor and sexuality, that’s your only true power.” Playfully raking Supergirl’s swollen chest she giggled at the pendulum-like sway. “Well babes, they won’t be calling you super anymore, not with those little mosquito bites.”
Beaming with hate, Supergirl met her conqueror with watery eyes. No longer able to feel her breasts, she began screaming wildly. Her drooping tits jiggling with every tear-filled spasm. “Bitch! I…I will stop you.”
Amused, Riven held her ground. Matching Supergirl’s stare even as she chuckled. “Hardly blue bird,” said the villainess, her voice calm as she clasped her hips and thrust out her chest. Strands from Supergirl’s costume still clinging beneath her nails.
Even though they were both bruised, bloodied and exposed, Supergirl was the only one who appeared undressed. Her slender frame held captive before a hulking foe. Her S ripped down the middle, flapping against her sides. While tears and sweat dripped from her swollen face, splashing against her mangled breasts.
“Despite all your might, empty promises of peace are all you’ve ever had to offer.” Riven punctuated her remark with a blood-splattering slap. Lashing her hand against Supergirl’s face, she delivered another. “Where were your pretty words when my people were being slaughtered.” Supergirl’s lips were already cut and bloody and still Riven unleashed her violence, yet again snapping the heroine’s head back. “Pregnant women, children…babies all gutted. Countless sisters-in-arms raped; their naked bodies left in the streets. Tell me, Girl of Steel, what happened to your precious peace?”
As Supergirl’s head rolled back into place, Riven pressed on, not with another slap, but by clutching Supergirl’s face—prompting a fresh splatter of blood as her fingers squeezed the groaning blonde’s swollen cheeks.
“You know what I think?” said Riven, allowing the ensuing silence to linger as the heroine’s eyes re-focused.
As Riven pulled near, Supergirl attempted to turn away from the stink of the villainess’ breath. But the boulder of a woman held her in place, spittle bursting from her mouth as she continued. “Only those too weak to conquer speak of peace.” Forcing Supergirl to look, not at her but toward a familiar figure in the crowd.
“Heath!”
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 8 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
It's starting to dawn on me that Riven seems somewhat upset at some wrong for which she holds Supergirl responsible. Her method of extracting penance from the Maid of Steels appears to be a tad excessive. I'm thinking a nice tea and scones break here might do Riven some good but I suspect that's not about to happen.
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Hey folks, here's the next bit.
As Dr. D. jokingly suggested, it's time for a quick tea and scone break from the main action. And, for sure, Riven definitely has issues. I've tried to hint at them throughout the story, but chapters 14 and 30 are good places to start for folks in need of a quick re-fresher.
Enjoy.
_____________________________
----------------------------------42---------------------------------
Less than a mile away, three figures dressed in all-black tactical gear weaved between the low-lying buildings.
Everywhere they looked, groups of heavily armed wraiths were setting up barricades. It’s Honolulu all over again, thought Halley. She could feel her ponytail bobbing, threatening to unravel, as she took cover behind a large dumpster. The heat emanating off the rusted metal fueling the buildup of perspiration along her forehead.
From head to toe, she felt her body roasting under the morning sun, impairing her ability to think. Carrying over 30 pounds of ammo and gear doesn’t help. Eying her elongated shadow, she felt her adrenaline spike, We’re too exposed. Her worries amplified by Q-Ball’s hurried approach from the far side of the alley.
“Q…you’re too close. They’ll see you.”
Crouching down, Q-ball, with a quick tap, activated his earpiece to reply. “Stop being a mama bear Hal; this ain’t my first rodeo,” he whispered, praying that his target didn’t turn.
“I’d be more worried about that bald dome of his,” chided Sanchez. “It’s shinning brighter than a lighthouse.”
“Very funny chica. How’s that climb going…you forget which way is up?”
“Cool it guys” said Halley, watching as Sanchez finished her ascent up the fire escape. Returning the sniper's thumbs up with a quick nod, Halley performed one last check. The coast was clear. It’s now or never. Rolling her shoulders, to steady her nerves, she hoped that Heath and Reggie were making better progress through the sewers as she gave the order to strike.
Springing up to grab the unsuspecting wraith from behind, Q-Ball readied his knife.
Sanchez proved equally adept, wrestling the one on the warehouse roof to the ground with a text-book headlock.
They needed to be silent. One slip and The Swarm would be alerted to their presence. The patrols had already cut off and isolated the police. Their guns corralling the plethora of onlookers from the nearby buildings towards the edge of the Metropolis River and the source of the explosions. Spectators, hostages or both? Whatever The Swarm had planned, it was clearly centered around the Daily Planet. And yet, these four wraiths had, for some reason, been left behind to guard an ambulance.
Halley couldn’t put her finger on it, but something wasn’t right. Despite the protests of her squad, she had insisted they investigate. Directing Sanchez, with a sharp slash of her hand, to take down the lookout on the roof. A second flick of her wrist and Q-ball was also off, targeting the driver; leaving Halley to deal with the two chatterboxes at the back.
She wasn’t sure, but it looked like the pair of lumbering oafs were watching a cataclysmic battle, eyes glued to the side-panel screen at the rear of the ambulance. Good. That gave her a tactical advantage.
Even though both men easily had 90 pounds, if not more, on her, Halley fearlessly sprang into action—utilizing the butt of her submachine gun to catch the first of the two wraiths right as he turned to greet the sound of her footsteps. As the man fell, Halley rolled over his back, powering her leg into the second. She then finished him off with a rising knee, cracking his mask as his gut collapsed, before returning her attention to the first. Still clutching his face, Halley knocked him out with a quick twist of her torso, delivering yet another hammering strike with the back of her weapon.
From start to finish, Halley had needed less than three seconds to dispatch her targets. Checking in with the others, she exchanged an infectious grin with Sanchez. Not bad for my first mission in charge. Enjoying the rush of adrenaline, she was relieved that everything had gone according to plan…or so she had thought. On no. Halley immediately spun upon hearing Q-Ball’s scream. How? She had seen him preparing to lunge, knife gleaming in hand.
While Q-Ball had succeeded in wrapping up his target, he was surprised to find that the smooth curves beneath the layers of black robes were feminine. As the element of surprise shifted, Q-Ball found himself on his back, staring up at a perfectly manicured set of nails clutched tightly around his knife.
As the woman’s arm thrust down, Q-Ball recoiled, fearing that the loud crack was the sound of his ribs being spliced apart. Struggling for breath, he felt a rush of panic as the woman’s weight collapsed onto his chest. It wasn't until Halley yanked the dead wraith by her arm, pulling her aside, that air finally gushed back into his lungs.
With Halley’s help, Q-Ball managed to spring to his feet. Uncertain how he had survived, he brushed himself off and asked, “what happened?”
Halley’s smile, along with her index finger, provided the answer. “You’re a beauty,” chuckled Q-Ball, turning towards the roof and blowing Sanchez a kiss.
“I told you I’d put you in my sights,” teased the snipper, patting her rifle. “And no, I don’t want a pump,” she said, anticipating his usual joke.
While the others laughed, Halley wheeled around, drawn towards the ambulance.
“Guys.” Her voice immediately cracked, face puzzled, as she called to her team. It looks more like a medieval torture table than a stretcher. Halley had never seen an ambulance like this. There were thick, re-enforced restraints attached to the side railings. Leg shackles, also metal, splayed and ready for use. While clear, jug-sized containers lined the floor, connected by a series of tubes to a set of circular suction cups that dangled from the walls.
Some kind of oxygen device thought Halley, still skeptical. As the others cautiously approached, she was glad to see that they too shared her unease. But, it was the action on the mounted TV screen that proved even more perplexing.
“Oh my,” blurted Sanchez, cupping her mouth. “Supergirl looks exhausted.”
“Yeah, but so is the dark-haired chick.” Q-ball pointed at Riven’s torn clothes and bruises. “Don’t worry, Supergirl’s got this. Right Hal?”
Halley stayed silent. She could sense her uncertainty rising with each blood-splattering exchange between the two titans. Never before had she seen Supergirl’s costume soaked with so much sweat. Her willowy frame comically outmatched by her opponent’s girth.
In the moment, it didn’t seem to matter that the Girl of Steel had already triumphed over countless foes—several far more muscular than even this towering behemoth. And yet, it was obvious that there was something different about Riven. Her armor-like body wasn’t just better, it made Supergirl’s athletic frame appear pedestrian. An impressive feat, considering that her olive skin and ample curves were also proving to be just as much, if not more, of a match for Supergirl’s famed beauty.
However, the real difference – what truly set them apart – was the fiery glow in the villainess’ eyes. Not the incandescent bursts of orange and green light but the woman’s inner stare. Riven, unlike Supergirl, was clearly hard of bone and mind. A dangerous combination. One made deadlier as Halley watched the Maid of Might repeatedly fall victim to villainess’ feints. Halley felt her body turning cold; Riven wasn’t just a trained killer, she was the superior fighter.
“My God!” Halley could no longer watch. Just as she had feared, Supergirl was being badly outclassed. Her famed abs collapsing under Riven’s hammering blows. “Come on, we have to get in this fight.”
“Wait…Hal!” shouted Sanchez.
Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, Halley’s face contorted to match her scream. “No!” She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. None of them could.
Pale and weary, the three FBI agents continued their ashen stares, gripped not by Supergirl’s welting face but by the by the two dangling figures in the corner of their screen—Reggie and Heath had been captured by The Swarm. Metal coils wrapped around their necks; faces burning bright red with every furious kick toward ground.
None of this made sense. This wasn’t – couldn’t – be happening, thought Halley, urging Supergirl to fight on. But as the Girl of Steel teetered, blood spewing from her sweat-lathered face, Halley's faith faltered. A new world order was coming…and she was no longer certain that the man she loved, nor the heroic teen would survive to see another day.
To be continued ...
As Dr. D. jokingly suggested, it's time for a quick tea and scone break from the main action. And, for sure, Riven definitely has issues. I've tried to hint at them throughout the story, but chapters 14 and 30 are good places to start for folks in need of a quick re-fresher.
Enjoy.
_____________________________
----------------------------------42---------------------------------
Less than a mile away, three figures dressed in all-black tactical gear weaved between the low-lying buildings.
Everywhere they looked, groups of heavily armed wraiths were setting up barricades. It’s Honolulu all over again, thought Halley. She could feel her ponytail bobbing, threatening to unravel, as she took cover behind a large dumpster. The heat emanating off the rusted metal fueling the buildup of perspiration along her forehead.
From head to toe, she felt her body roasting under the morning sun, impairing her ability to think. Carrying over 30 pounds of ammo and gear doesn’t help. Eying her elongated shadow, she felt her adrenaline spike, We’re too exposed. Her worries amplified by Q-Ball’s hurried approach from the far side of the alley.
“Q…you’re too close. They’ll see you.”
Crouching down, Q-ball, with a quick tap, activated his earpiece to reply. “Stop being a mama bear Hal; this ain’t my first rodeo,” he whispered, praying that his target didn’t turn.
“I’d be more worried about that bald dome of his,” chided Sanchez. “It’s shinning brighter than a lighthouse.”
“Very funny chica. How’s that climb going…you forget which way is up?”
“Cool it guys” said Halley, watching as Sanchez finished her ascent up the fire escape. Returning the sniper's thumbs up with a quick nod, Halley performed one last check. The coast was clear. It’s now or never. Rolling her shoulders, to steady her nerves, she hoped that Heath and Reggie were making better progress through the sewers as she gave the order to strike.
Springing up to grab the unsuspecting wraith from behind, Q-Ball readied his knife.
Sanchez proved equally adept, wrestling the one on the warehouse roof to the ground with a text-book headlock.
They needed to be silent. One slip and The Swarm would be alerted to their presence. The patrols had already cut off and isolated the police. Their guns corralling the plethora of onlookers from the nearby buildings towards the edge of the Metropolis River and the source of the explosions. Spectators, hostages or both? Whatever The Swarm had planned, it was clearly centered around the Daily Planet. And yet, these four wraiths had, for some reason, been left behind to guard an ambulance.
Halley couldn’t put her finger on it, but something wasn’t right. Despite the protests of her squad, she had insisted they investigate. Directing Sanchez, with a sharp slash of her hand, to take down the lookout on the roof. A second flick of her wrist and Q-ball was also off, targeting the driver; leaving Halley to deal with the two chatterboxes at the back.
She wasn’t sure, but it looked like the pair of lumbering oafs were watching a cataclysmic battle, eyes glued to the side-panel screen at the rear of the ambulance. Good. That gave her a tactical advantage.
Even though both men easily had 90 pounds, if not more, on her, Halley fearlessly sprang into action—utilizing the butt of her submachine gun to catch the first of the two wraiths right as he turned to greet the sound of her footsteps. As the man fell, Halley rolled over his back, powering her leg into the second. She then finished him off with a rising knee, cracking his mask as his gut collapsed, before returning her attention to the first. Still clutching his face, Halley knocked him out with a quick twist of her torso, delivering yet another hammering strike with the back of her weapon.
From start to finish, Halley had needed less than three seconds to dispatch her targets. Checking in with the others, she exchanged an infectious grin with Sanchez. Not bad for my first mission in charge. Enjoying the rush of adrenaline, she was relieved that everything had gone according to plan…or so she had thought. On no. Halley immediately spun upon hearing Q-Ball’s scream. How? She had seen him preparing to lunge, knife gleaming in hand.
While Q-Ball had succeeded in wrapping up his target, he was surprised to find that the smooth curves beneath the layers of black robes were feminine. As the element of surprise shifted, Q-Ball found himself on his back, staring up at a perfectly manicured set of nails clutched tightly around his knife.
As the woman’s arm thrust down, Q-Ball recoiled, fearing that the loud crack was the sound of his ribs being spliced apart. Struggling for breath, he felt a rush of panic as the woman’s weight collapsed onto his chest. It wasn't until Halley yanked the dead wraith by her arm, pulling her aside, that air finally gushed back into his lungs.
With Halley’s help, Q-Ball managed to spring to his feet. Uncertain how he had survived, he brushed himself off and asked, “what happened?”
Halley’s smile, along with her index finger, provided the answer. “You’re a beauty,” chuckled Q-Ball, turning towards the roof and blowing Sanchez a kiss.
“I told you I’d put you in my sights,” teased the snipper, patting her rifle. “And no, I don’t want a pump,” she said, anticipating his usual joke.
While the others laughed, Halley wheeled around, drawn towards the ambulance.
“Guys.” Her voice immediately cracked, face puzzled, as she called to her team. It looks more like a medieval torture table than a stretcher. Halley had never seen an ambulance like this. There were thick, re-enforced restraints attached to the side railings. Leg shackles, also metal, splayed and ready for use. While clear, jug-sized containers lined the floor, connected by a series of tubes to a set of circular suction cups that dangled from the walls.
Some kind of oxygen device thought Halley, still skeptical. As the others cautiously approached, she was glad to see that they too shared her unease. But, it was the action on the mounted TV screen that proved even more perplexing.
“Oh my,” blurted Sanchez, cupping her mouth. “Supergirl looks exhausted.”
“Yeah, but so is the dark-haired chick.” Q-ball pointed at Riven’s torn clothes and bruises. “Don’t worry, Supergirl’s got this. Right Hal?”
Halley stayed silent. She could sense her uncertainty rising with each blood-splattering exchange between the two titans. Never before had she seen Supergirl’s costume soaked with so much sweat. Her willowy frame comically outmatched by her opponent’s girth.
In the moment, it didn’t seem to matter that the Girl of Steel had already triumphed over countless foes—several far more muscular than even this towering behemoth. And yet, it was obvious that there was something different about Riven. Her armor-like body wasn’t just better, it made Supergirl’s athletic frame appear pedestrian. An impressive feat, considering that her olive skin and ample curves were also proving to be just as much, if not more, of a match for Supergirl’s famed beauty.
However, the real difference – what truly set them apart – was the fiery glow in the villainess’ eyes. Not the incandescent bursts of orange and green light but the woman’s inner stare. Riven, unlike Supergirl, was clearly hard of bone and mind. A dangerous combination. One made deadlier as Halley watched the Maid of Might repeatedly fall victim to villainess’ feints. Halley felt her body turning cold; Riven wasn’t just a trained killer, she was the superior fighter.
“My God!” Halley could no longer watch. Just as she had feared, Supergirl was being badly outclassed. Her famed abs collapsing under Riven’s hammering blows. “Come on, we have to get in this fight.”
“Wait…Hal!” shouted Sanchez.
Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, Halley’s face contorted to match her scream. “No!” She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. None of them could.
Pale and weary, the three FBI agents continued their ashen stares, gripped not by Supergirl’s welting face but by the by the two dangling figures in the corner of their screen—Reggie and Heath had been captured by The Swarm. Metal coils wrapped around their necks; faces burning bright red with every furious kick toward ground.
None of this made sense. This wasn’t – couldn’t – be happening, thought Halley, urging Supergirl to fight on. But as the Girl of Steel teetered, blood spewing from her sweat-lathered face, Halley's faith faltered. A new world order was coming…and she was no longer certain that the man she loved, nor the heroic teen would survive to see another day.
To be continued ...
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 6 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Another excellent chapter of concise descriptive action, intrepid heroism and dangerous shifting of power balances. Kudos as usual.
-
girlofsteel
- Henchman
- Posts: 85
- Joined: 11 years ago
- Location: Phantom Zone
Here's the latest update...but first.
Part of the delay in posting is due to a previous comment that had me revisiting some old stories. It's amazing how time causes one to forget. And how the mind can trick one into believing that they are doing something novel when, in fact, they're just treading over the same old ground.
I started this wanting to know if I could do better...to see if, after a long hiatus, I had grown as a writer? And now I have my answer. The dwindling engagement and aforementioned realization has me thinking that it's time to wrap things up.
Silence, has always been the loudest critic. Still, it's been a blast. Honestly, I've never gotten this far into a story before. To all who have commented - thank you. I never would have made it this far without you. The quality of writing on this forum is inspiring. I hope y'all continue to lend your voices to all who endeavor to share their ideas. But, after 50,000 plus words and some 120 pages, allow me to bid adieu with one final update. Not the last I had hoped to release, but close enough to bring down the curtain.
Hope you enjoy.
_____________________________
----------------------------------43---------------------------------
“Ah yes…the boyfriend. Bring him!”
Riven’s words sent Supergirl’s trembling, blue eyes scurrying towards Heath. His battered body dangling under the grip of Ague’s coil.
The armor-clad woman’s metallic claws ensured that Reggie remained no less immune to her unyielding cruelty. Her smile only half visible thanks to the crack in her mask—a memento from her earlier clash with the Girl of Steel.
And yet, so much had changed in the ensuing 24 hours. Up had become down. Left had flipped right. And, the once mighty Girl of Steel was, suddenly, no longer invincible.
Frustrated by her inability to escape her bonds, Supergirl unleashed her anger upon Riven. “Don’t you dare hurt him.”
Amused by the heroine’s show of force, the hulking beauty stepped back—admiring Supergirl’s tautly figure, with a slow lick of her lips. The fire in her loins swelling in tandem with the young blonde’s heaving chest. Delighted – with every futile twist and turn – that, at least, the Maid of Might’s spirt, if not her body, remained unbroken.
“I underestimated you Supergirl.” The sexually-laced timber in Riven’s voice echoed the dark intentions of her outstretched arm.
“Fuck, I think I want you even more now that you’re battered and bruised,” said Riven, playfully pressing her index finger between the heroine’s sagging tits and zipping it down her sternum. “Now pet, let’s have a better look at you.” As she spoke, Riven casually proceeded to hook her finger beneath the remnants of Supergirl’s tattered top.
The heroic teen couldn’t believe how easily her costume gave. Like a hot knife through butter, the blue fabric melted away as Riven effortlessly extended the original tear in her S down passed her navel and toward the nook of her V-shaped belt.
With a gasp, Supergirl gazed upon her swollen belly. Her legendary abs, revered in countless adverts for their flat, sculpted tone were gone—replaced by a patchwork of deep-seeded bruises.
“Oh, did I do that?” feigned Riven, gingerly kissing her knuckles. “Don’t worry babes, I haven’t finished undressing you yet.” Stepping aside, to allow the media an unfettered view of Supergirl’s devastated body, the colonel struggled to restrain herself. Bowing to the cameras, she gleefully proclaimed, “Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly give you...the Girl of Steel.”
Shame washed over Supergirl’s pain-riddled face. Still struggling to break free, she sensed the world’s eyes on her mutilated body. Her once proud breasts swinging like sacks. Jiggling, along with her formerly tight stomach, with every staggered breath.
Just when the heroic teen thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, Riven hammered her message home—spreading out her legs and grasping her hips to claim Supergirl’s stance as her own. The flash of camera’s instantly caused Supergirl to turn away. Her disgrace growing with every rippling display from her shredded foe.
As Riven thrust out her chest, to showcase her large, sweat-glistening breasts, Supergirl realized that she wasn’t just enduring a public humiliation but a coronation. The hulking beauty’s hard body, instantly captivating the global audience with her Herculean-like assets.
Riven could tell that the young blonde’s will was all but broken. Her foundation cracked, all that remained was to reach in and snatch her soul.
The mere thought sent Riven’s hands feverishly rubbing between her legs. The feel of her warmth, engorging her dark, pointed nipples.
“Tell me pet – one ‘super’ girl to another – what attracts you to the male organ? It’s teeny, like an ill-formed limb. It can’t possibly satisfy you. Unless, of course, there is something special about….”
Riven held her grin just long enough for Supergirl’s fear to escalate as she greeted the dangling FBI agents.
“Look at that.” Glancing back, the hulking beauty reveled in Supergirl’s tears, “this one’s already hard.”
“Stop that!” The pain in Supergirl’s flaccid breasts escalated along with her screams. Flailing wildly, her toned body pulled and thrashed like a caged animal, pleading for Riven to release her hold on Reggie’s penis.
“So…,” Riven paused craning her neck to read the name on Reggie’s badge, “…agent Barry, is it me or Supergirl’s ravaged body that has you riding high?”
“Riven, stop this!” cried Supergirl. Her body heaving with exhaustion. Sweat saturating her skin as Reggie’s eyes shot pleadingly toward her.
Riven’s laughter only heightened Supergirl’s despair. Not since the destruction of Krypton had she felt this powerless. “No don’t…please,” she cried. Helpless to prevent the villainess from throttling the FBI agent with one hand, while the other continued working his swelling shaft with piston-like precision.
Supergirl’s body went cold as Reggie’s collapsed to the ground. His massive erection still visible beneath his pants even though his neck had been broken.
Unable to catch her breath, Supergirl’s mind drifted, struggling to take in Reggie’s twitching body, as he hissed what little air remained out of his lungs. Her rage building; until, finally, she could no longer contain her emotions, lifting her gaze and crying out, “You bitch!”
“Now, now pet. Sticks ’n’ stones.... There’s still plenty of time to save the day. Isn’t that right lover boy?”
Supergirl’s gut twisted as Riven’s attention shifted to Heath. No! I can’t lose him too. How, could she know about us? We’ve always been so careful. But, as her thoughts drifted back to her incident atop the Pentagon, the Maid of Might froze in terror. “Noooo!" Thrashing in vain against her bonds, she wailed: "Your fight is with me. Please, leave him alone!”
Ignoring Supergirl’s pleas, Riven began loosening her belt. Her toned, hard body ensnaring Heath’s gaze, pulling his attention away from the Girl of Steel. Teasing him – and the world – with glimpses of her dark panties. Her rolling hips, staggering his breathing as she finally allowed her khakis to fall.
“No! Heath don’t do it,” screamed Supergirl. Her tears welling from deep within upon spotting the tent in his pants. Even she was transfixed by the smoothness of Riven’s olive skin. Seduced by the woman’s impossibly firm bum as it stretched – no, tortured – her black panties to the point of transparency. Once again, the hulking beauty had utterly outclassed her.
While Riven wrestled Heath to the ground, Supergirl’s eyes, to her shame, drifted towards the large, circular stain on the villainess’ silky undergarments. Shaking her head in disgust, the heroic teen shuddered, well aware that sweat alone wasn’t what was causing the woman’s muscular thighs to glisten.
Rao, this can’t be happening. But no matter how many times Supergirl shook her head, wishing for the torment to end, Riven kept unzipping her boyfriend’s pants; fumbling with his erect penis. Recognizing the excitement in Heath’s eyes, the heroic teen couldn’t help but wonder, have I ever made him that hard?
“Hmm feisty,” groaned Riven. “I can see why you like this one.”
Enraged, Supergirl leapt forward. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow this to happen. Clenching her teeth; ignoring the pain in her muscles, she once again began wrestling with her bonds. Dueling the two masked women, whose coils were wrapped around her arms, for control of her body.
What Riven didn’t understand. What no one on Earth could possibly comprehend, was that she too, having witnessed the destruction of her own world, had suffered. In a flash, as her spaceship hurdled away, her parents, her friends, her entire race had been destroyed. You want to talk about pain Riven! Howling wildly, Supergirl could feel her muscles straining as she lurched forward on unstable legs. The fire in her arms shooting into her skull, blurring her vision as well as her mind.
Still, the Maid of Might refused to yield. I lost my entire planet. Everyone I ever knew; loved, taken away in a violent flash. Determined to teach her opponents a thing or two about pain, Supergirl allowed her emotions to rage. For years she had held back her powers, afraid of what she might do—no more! Pulling against her bonds with all she had, she could feel them slipping. Her would-be captives equally screaming, attempting to wrestle her back into submission. But it was too late. With a final, all-consuming roar, Supergirl broke free.
“Impossible!” blurted Riven.
But, before the hulking beauty could react, Supergirl tackled her to the ground.
To the delight of the crowd, the Girl of Steel was back. Her body lean, strong and bursting with fury as she mounted her foe. Raining down hammering blows with every scream, the heroic blonde was relentless—scattering Riven’s blood all over the floor.
If necessary, Supergirl was prepared to kill. She doesn’t deserve to go to jail. But Riven’s fluttering eyes and heaving chest, steadied Supergirl’s fists. With a sigh of relief, she celebrated her victory. Surprised by how heavy her arms felt, the Girl of Steel was content to lean back. To simply allow her cape and skirt to continue billowing in the breeze.
HEATH!
The realization shot new life into Supergirl’s bloated and stiff body. Please Rao, let him be alive.
Attempting to stand, Supergirl was shocked by her sweat-lathered state. I’m so tired. As blood rushed to her head, the Maid of Might felt her balance shifting. Her fight with Riven had completely drained her. Raising a hand to her forehead, she attempted to steady her mind. But, with darkness circling, she managed only a couple more steps before crashing down, belly first, onto the gravel.
Jolted by pain, Supergirl, with a grunt-like squeal, desperately clutched her throbbing breasts. Struggling to stand, her shaking limbs hindered her ability to put on a brave face for the media, even as her vision began to clear. Sprawled on elbows and knees, she could already hear footsteps gathering, no doubt they’re still filming.
Lumbering on, Supergirl tried not to worry about her sagging breasts raking against the ground – marinating, much like the remnants of her torn S in the soot and mud – even as she yelped from the pain. All that mattered was finding Heath. I have to make sure he’s okay, she thought, refusing to quit.
Despite the growing chorus of voices, Supergirl kept crawling, relieved to see Heath up ahead. Only a few more feet. Extending her hand toward his leg, desperate for some sign of life, she began examining his body through tattered locks. Panting from the effort, she couldn’t help but notice his erection. The size of his girth sent an unexpected swell of warmth between her legs. Surprised by her libido, she began to think of all she would do once they were alone.
Suddenly excited, Supergirl called out his name. “Heath, say something. Please, tell me you’re okay?”
However, the look on Heath’s face instilled a rush of panic. Her tremulous voice urging him to respond. Caressing his breathless face, she clung to hope, sensing a stir in his limbs. But, as his teeth began to clatter, her heart sank—horrified to see him gnawing, like a rodent, upon his lower lip.
“Stop this! Stop this!” Frantically, Supergirl held his jerking body. But no matter her efforts, his limbs continued to flail. Until, a second later, the only movement that remained was from the mucus spilling out from his orifices.
Consumed with grief, she felt the urge to scream. But her voice stuck in her throat. Overwhelmed, not by heartache, but by the sound of an all-too familiar laugh.
----------------------------------44---------------------------------
“How adorable. You actually thought you’d won.”
Supergirl’s skin crawled upon hearing Riven’s booming voice. This…this can’t be. Scampering onto her bum, she swiveled, shocked to see her approaching foe.
Wiping the blood from her mouth, Riven cast her gaze between Supergirl’s widely parted legs. But it was the hand in her panties that fueled her wild moans. “You’ll have to give me a minute pet; you really had me going back there on the ground.”
Sickened by the juices squirting down the woman’s legs, Supergirl’s anger swelled. Her lungs heaving, she managed, somehow, despite her dizziness, to haul her leaden body back onto her feet. This isn’t possible. This is not right! Gasping and panting, the Girl of Steel clenched her fists, meeting the fiery glow of her opponent’s stare.
“Look at you, still playing hero.”
As the Maid of Might cautiously watched the approach of the circling wraiths, Riven was enticed by the teen’s swaying breasts. “Oh, don’t tell me you actually thought you’d escaped your bonds on your own? Silly child.” Riven’s burst of laughter reverberated in the young blonde’s ears as she whirled, showcasing her shapely legs, to meet the crackle of Ague, Scarlatina and Taenia’s whips.
Rao, I’m surrounded. Glancing up at the sky, Supergirl couldn’t believe that she was actually contemplating escape. I don’t even know if I could make it; my muscles…there so sluggish. What if I fall? The media would have a field day if she tried to flee. Her career would essentially be over. Then again...eyeing the remains of her ripped and muddy S...it already is.
How had it come to this? As much at it hurt to admit, Supergirl knew she had met her match. But the thought of defeat was still too much for her pride to bear. How could she run, when Heath, Reggie and all her friends at the Planet were dead? Murdered by this sex-crazed psycho. No! One way or another, Supergirl was determined to make her stand.
“Atta girl” With a lick of her sexually-laced fingers, Riven welcomed Supergirl’s charge. So, predictable.
Lurching forward, Supergirl summoned what little strength remained in her swollen, chaffed and bleeding figure. But even as she swung, she already felt empty—naked in body and soul. Deprived of reason, she had lost her will to fight. And now, having struck air, she welcomed the puss and blood that would surely follow.
She didn’t even know where Riven had gone, such was the villainess’ lethal grace. But she felt her abs buckle. Pulverized by Riven’s knee, the Girl of Steel doubled over, hocking up phlegm.
Convulsing uncontrollably, Supergirl wanted to collapse but her foe wouldn’t allow it. Instead, she found herself being hoisted back up into the air, coughing streams of blood from the pressure that Riven’s hold on the back of her belt was applying upon her bruised-splattered belly.
The gut-wrenching brutality came to an end only after Riven heaved the wailing Girl of Steel into the air, catching her above her head, in an Olympic-like lift.
For a second, Supergirl allowed herself to believe that she was actually flying. Her limbs hanging, not from exhaustion but merely floating in the breeze. Electing to enjoy the sway of her tattered locks rather than the throbbing of her battered breasts. Anything to prolong the pleasurable fiction that the swirling lights weren’t cameras…but stars.
Because, deep down, nothing hurt more than the hard truth: that she remained in the air not by her own volition but by the will of her opponent. A woman whose physical gifts and martial prowess far exceeded her own. Reduced to nothing more than a trophy, Supergirl’s beaten body was now on display. Her conqueror’s booming voice, belting in her ears.
“I told you, I would strip you of everything you hold dear.” Riven’s grandstanding, was proving almost as painful to endure as her grip: one hand clutched around the nape of Supergirl’s neck, while the other latched onto her ass. The fingers of the latter creeping uncomfortably toward her anus. Forcing not only her leotard to shift between her cheeks but her legs to remain tantalizing wide for all to see.
Despite Supergirl’s protests, Riven pressed on. Her thick sinewy frame, pulsing with excitement. A shimmering colossus dressed in nothing more than black military boots and panties. Her gravity defiant breasts casting a spell upon the shell-shocked crowd, as she dangled the defeated Maid of Might above her head. “No more false gods. Those who fail to act when confronted by atrocity are just, if not more, guilty than the wicked who dare perpetrate the crime.”
Suddenly, Supergirl could feel the hulking beauty’s muscles surge—flexing with impossible might. Flushed with panic, she cried out, kicking and flailing…but nothing she did could break her opponent’s hold.
“I am the purge, and you, Supergirl, are the disease.” Having rendered judgement, Riven stepped forward, eager to pass sentence. “Allow me to wash your sins.”
The Maid of Might’s heart raced, clogging her throat upon feeling the rush of air. Her lashing blonde locks obscuring the fear that gripped her crying face as her back slammed against Riven’s extended knee.
The ensuing CRACK and harrowing scream were far less ambiguous, drawing a collective gasp throughout the crowd. Unable to bear the shattering arc in Supergirl’s spine, most looked away—hands clasped over their mouths, silencing their tears.
Riven, on the other hand, held her gaze. Enjoying the gurgle of blood that dripped from the heroic teen’s mouth and the sound of her red boots twitching against the floor.
Locked in the throes of yet another orgasm, the hulking beauty squirmed from the warmth flooding her pelvis. Her ardent eyes and dripping sweat washing over the fractured Girl of Steel. Reaching out to grab Supergirl’s tattered cape, she could feel the crowds’ collective gaze, once again, upon her.
Riven relished their hate; feeding off it as she began toweling herself off—enjoying the feel of the soft, red fabric cooling her steaming muscles. The weak yearn to be led, thought Riven, tossing Supergirl’s raggedy cape into the air. After all, the world they knew no longer existed. Their champion defeated. Broken and sprawled across her knee.
Still, their weakness enraged her. Only the temperance of her master’s voice inside her head, prevented her from taking action. Patience. Empires, like people, rise and fall. Tracing the ouroboros inked across her rippling abs, Riven heeded Matron’s words. The culling could wait. Supergirl’s raised skirt…could not.
Riven’s unsolicited touch caused the half-conscious Maid of Might to stir. She couldn’t believe the ease with which her fingers slipped beneath the heroine’s blue leotard. So little protection for such a coveted spot. Traversing the girl’s smooth mound, Riven felt her excitement, once again, blossom. Not a single hair, incredible! She was exploring forbidden fields. Defiling the closest thing to an angel. A sin that – to the delight of the cameras – she was eager to commit.
But in her own way. And at her own pace. The media would get their show, but first…. There it is. Having latched on, Riven’s wiggling fingers began pulling back on the dangling white string. Sensing resistance, she turned to Supergirl’s fluttering eyes. “Well aren’t you a bleeder,” teased Riven, displaying the heroine’s thoroughly blood-soaked tampon for all to see.
Supergirl could only respond in moans. Her writhing body, floating between life and death. Unaware that her opponent had only begun to leave her mark.
“There, there pet.” Riven’s fingers brushed aside the Maid of Might’s soak-tattered locks to admire her bobbing eyes. Struggling to remain conscious, Supergirl’s baby blues had all but disappeared beneath her lids, leaving behind only her sclera and a steady supply of tears.
But, it was against the young blonde’s chest that the hulking beauty wished to truly display her delicate touch.
“Red is such a beautiful color.” With an admiring glance toward the bloody nub of the heroine’s tampon, Riven prepared to make contact. “So bright.” Confident in her penmanship, she swiftly completed her first stroke.
“It’s a pity, you’re not awake to see this.” Scrunching her brow, the colonel contemplated her next stroke. No doubt it would need to be thicker than the first. “You know, we weren’t even sure the virus’ base symptoms would work against you.” Riven paused, second guessing her approach. “Let alone the more severe neurological effects.”
Pleased with her work thus far, Riven readied her final stroke. “What you’re going through, in case you’re wondering, is a cytokine storm. The fever, the dizziness, the shortness of breath, that’s your own immune system turning against you, desperately attempting to fight off the virus. It’s also why you’re healing so slow.”
With a dramatic flick, Riven gleefully completed her work. “Voila! Now, the real tricky part was figuring out how long it would take for you to be affected. Obviously – with your abilities – the violent seizures, compulsive self-chewing of the flesh, all that good stuff, was out.”
Admiring her handiwork, Riven nodded, signaling her approval. “You just don’t look the same without it.” Celebrating her masterpiece, she tossed her arm into the air and cheerfully watched as Supergirl’s tampon thudded, with a light splatter, at the feet of the nearest camera. Her smile still intact, she returned her attention to the half-conscious Girl of Steel.
“What I’m saying pet, is that we needed certain contingencies. You’ll discover them all soon enough. But the most important of all, was your haughty, little arrogance. “Without it…,” Riven paused, shifting her hand back between Supergirl’s legs—wrapping it around the now slightly blood-stained strip of costume, “...your sexy cunt, might never have been exposed.”
With her distant eyes still fluttering, Supergirl’s limbs continued to jerk. Her glistening body leaving behind a sweaty trail as she was dragged by the crotch of her costume before the press. Vaguely aware of the swarming cameras, she groaned—disturbed to be feeling air, where she knew she shouldn’t. Her famed costume tattered and torn, while her most intimate regions were laid bare, for all to see.
A red S, drawn in her own thick menstrual blood, decorating her heaving chest.
Part of the delay in posting is due to a previous comment that had me revisiting some old stories. It's amazing how time causes one to forget. And how the mind can trick one into believing that they are doing something novel when, in fact, they're just treading over the same old ground.
I started this wanting to know if I could do better...to see if, after a long hiatus, I had grown as a writer? And now I have my answer. The dwindling engagement and aforementioned realization has me thinking that it's time to wrap things up.
Silence, has always been the loudest critic. Still, it's been a blast. Honestly, I've never gotten this far into a story before. To all who have commented - thank you. I never would have made it this far without you. The quality of writing on this forum is inspiring. I hope y'all continue to lend your voices to all who endeavor to share their ideas. But, after 50,000 plus words and some 120 pages, allow me to bid adieu with one final update. Not the last I had hoped to release, but close enough to bring down the curtain.
Hope you enjoy.
_____________________________
----------------------------------43---------------------------------
“Ah yes…the boyfriend. Bring him!”
Riven’s words sent Supergirl’s trembling, blue eyes scurrying towards Heath. His battered body dangling under the grip of Ague’s coil.
The armor-clad woman’s metallic claws ensured that Reggie remained no less immune to her unyielding cruelty. Her smile only half visible thanks to the crack in her mask—a memento from her earlier clash with the Girl of Steel.
And yet, so much had changed in the ensuing 24 hours. Up had become down. Left had flipped right. And, the once mighty Girl of Steel was, suddenly, no longer invincible.
Frustrated by her inability to escape her bonds, Supergirl unleashed her anger upon Riven. “Don’t you dare hurt him.”
Amused by the heroine’s show of force, the hulking beauty stepped back—admiring Supergirl’s tautly figure, with a slow lick of her lips. The fire in her loins swelling in tandem with the young blonde’s heaving chest. Delighted – with every futile twist and turn – that, at least, the Maid of Might’s spirt, if not her body, remained unbroken.
“I underestimated you Supergirl.” The sexually-laced timber in Riven’s voice echoed the dark intentions of her outstretched arm.
“Fuck, I think I want you even more now that you’re battered and bruised,” said Riven, playfully pressing her index finger between the heroine’s sagging tits and zipping it down her sternum. “Now pet, let’s have a better look at you.” As she spoke, Riven casually proceeded to hook her finger beneath the remnants of Supergirl’s tattered top.
The heroic teen couldn’t believe how easily her costume gave. Like a hot knife through butter, the blue fabric melted away as Riven effortlessly extended the original tear in her S down passed her navel and toward the nook of her V-shaped belt.
With a gasp, Supergirl gazed upon her swollen belly. Her legendary abs, revered in countless adverts for their flat, sculpted tone were gone—replaced by a patchwork of deep-seeded bruises.
“Oh, did I do that?” feigned Riven, gingerly kissing her knuckles. “Don’t worry babes, I haven’t finished undressing you yet.” Stepping aside, to allow the media an unfettered view of Supergirl’s devastated body, the colonel struggled to restrain herself. Bowing to the cameras, she gleefully proclaimed, “Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly give you...the Girl of Steel.”
Shame washed over Supergirl’s pain-riddled face. Still struggling to break free, she sensed the world’s eyes on her mutilated body. Her once proud breasts swinging like sacks. Jiggling, along with her formerly tight stomach, with every staggered breath.
Just when the heroic teen thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, Riven hammered her message home—spreading out her legs and grasping her hips to claim Supergirl’s stance as her own. The flash of camera’s instantly caused Supergirl to turn away. Her disgrace growing with every rippling display from her shredded foe.
As Riven thrust out her chest, to showcase her large, sweat-glistening breasts, Supergirl realized that she wasn’t just enduring a public humiliation but a coronation. The hulking beauty’s hard body, instantly captivating the global audience with her Herculean-like assets.
Riven could tell that the young blonde’s will was all but broken. Her foundation cracked, all that remained was to reach in and snatch her soul.
The mere thought sent Riven’s hands feverishly rubbing between her legs. The feel of her warmth, engorging her dark, pointed nipples.
“Tell me pet – one ‘super’ girl to another – what attracts you to the male organ? It’s teeny, like an ill-formed limb. It can’t possibly satisfy you. Unless, of course, there is something special about….”
Riven held her grin just long enough for Supergirl’s fear to escalate as she greeted the dangling FBI agents.
“Look at that.” Glancing back, the hulking beauty reveled in Supergirl’s tears, “this one’s already hard.”
“Stop that!” The pain in Supergirl’s flaccid breasts escalated along with her screams. Flailing wildly, her toned body pulled and thrashed like a caged animal, pleading for Riven to release her hold on Reggie’s penis.
“So…,” Riven paused craning her neck to read the name on Reggie’s badge, “…agent Barry, is it me or Supergirl’s ravaged body that has you riding high?”
“Riven, stop this!” cried Supergirl. Her body heaving with exhaustion. Sweat saturating her skin as Reggie’s eyes shot pleadingly toward her.
Riven’s laughter only heightened Supergirl’s despair. Not since the destruction of Krypton had she felt this powerless. “No don’t…please,” she cried. Helpless to prevent the villainess from throttling the FBI agent with one hand, while the other continued working his swelling shaft with piston-like precision.
Supergirl’s body went cold as Reggie’s collapsed to the ground. His massive erection still visible beneath his pants even though his neck had been broken.
Unable to catch her breath, Supergirl’s mind drifted, struggling to take in Reggie’s twitching body, as he hissed what little air remained out of his lungs. Her rage building; until, finally, she could no longer contain her emotions, lifting her gaze and crying out, “You bitch!”
“Now, now pet. Sticks ’n’ stones.... There’s still plenty of time to save the day. Isn’t that right lover boy?”
Supergirl’s gut twisted as Riven’s attention shifted to Heath. No! I can’t lose him too. How, could she know about us? We’ve always been so careful. But, as her thoughts drifted back to her incident atop the Pentagon, the Maid of Might froze in terror. “Noooo!" Thrashing in vain against her bonds, she wailed: "Your fight is with me. Please, leave him alone!”
Ignoring Supergirl’s pleas, Riven began loosening her belt. Her toned, hard body ensnaring Heath’s gaze, pulling his attention away from the Girl of Steel. Teasing him – and the world – with glimpses of her dark panties. Her rolling hips, staggering his breathing as she finally allowed her khakis to fall.
“No! Heath don’t do it,” screamed Supergirl. Her tears welling from deep within upon spotting the tent in his pants. Even she was transfixed by the smoothness of Riven’s olive skin. Seduced by the woman’s impossibly firm bum as it stretched – no, tortured – her black panties to the point of transparency. Once again, the hulking beauty had utterly outclassed her.
While Riven wrestled Heath to the ground, Supergirl’s eyes, to her shame, drifted towards the large, circular stain on the villainess’ silky undergarments. Shaking her head in disgust, the heroic teen shuddered, well aware that sweat alone wasn’t what was causing the woman’s muscular thighs to glisten.
Rao, this can’t be happening. But no matter how many times Supergirl shook her head, wishing for the torment to end, Riven kept unzipping her boyfriend’s pants; fumbling with his erect penis. Recognizing the excitement in Heath’s eyes, the heroic teen couldn’t help but wonder, have I ever made him that hard?
“Hmm feisty,” groaned Riven. “I can see why you like this one.”
Enraged, Supergirl leapt forward. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow this to happen. Clenching her teeth; ignoring the pain in her muscles, she once again began wrestling with her bonds. Dueling the two masked women, whose coils were wrapped around her arms, for control of her body.
What Riven didn’t understand. What no one on Earth could possibly comprehend, was that she too, having witnessed the destruction of her own world, had suffered. In a flash, as her spaceship hurdled away, her parents, her friends, her entire race had been destroyed. You want to talk about pain Riven! Howling wildly, Supergirl could feel her muscles straining as she lurched forward on unstable legs. The fire in her arms shooting into her skull, blurring her vision as well as her mind.
Still, the Maid of Might refused to yield. I lost my entire planet. Everyone I ever knew; loved, taken away in a violent flash. Determined to teach her opponents a thing or two about pain, Supergirl allowed her emotions to rage. For years she had held back her powers, afraid of what she might do—no more! Pulling against her bonds with all she had, she could feel them slipping. Her would-be captives equally screaming, attempting to wrestle her back into submission. But it was too late. With a final, all-consuming roar, Supergirl broke free.
“Impossible!” blurted Riven.
But, before the hulking beauty could react, Supergirl tackled her to the ground.
To the delight of the crowd, the Girl of Steel was back. Her body lean, strong and bursting with fury as she mounted her foe. Raining down hammering blows with every scream, the heroic blonde was relentless—scattering Riven’s blood all over the floor.
If necessary, Supergirl was prepared to kill. She doesn’t deserve to go to jail. But Riven’s fluttering eyes and heaving chest, steadied Supergirl’s fists. With a sigh of relief, she celebrated her victory. Surprised by how heavy her arms felt, the Girl of Steel was content to lean back. To simply allow her cape and skirt to continue billowing in the breeze.
HEATH!
The realization shot new life into Supergirl’s bloated and stiff body. Please Rao, let him be alive.
Attempting to stand, Supergirl was shocked by her sweat-lathered state. I’m so tired. As blood rushed to her head, the Maid of Might felt her balance shifting. Her fight with Riven had completely drained her. Raising a hand to her forehead, she attempted to steady her mind. But, with darkness circling, she managed only a couple more steps before crashing down, belly first, onto the gravel.
Jolted by pain, Supergirl, with a grunt-like squeal, desperately clutched her throbbing breasts. Struggling to stand, her shaking limbs hindered her ability to put on a brave face for the media, even as her vision began to clear. Sprawled on elbows and knees, she could already hear footsteps gathering, no doubt they’re still filming.
Lumbering on, Supergirl tried not to worry about her sagging breasts raking against the ground – marinating, much like the remnants of her torn S in the soot and mud – even as she yelped from the pain. All that mattered was finding Heath. I have to make sure he’s okay, she thought, refusing to quit.
Despite the growing chorus of voices, Supergirl kept crawling, relieved to see Heath up ahead. Only a few more feet. Extending her hand toward his leg, desperate for some sign of life, she began examining his body through tattered locks. Panting from the effort, she couldn’t help but notice his erection. The size of his girth sent an unexpected swell of warmth between her legs. Surprised by her libido, she began to think of all she would do once they were alone.
Suddenly excited, Supergirl called out his name. “Heath, say something. Please, tell me you’re okay?”
However, the look on Heath’s face instilled a rush of panic. Her tremulous voice urging him to respond. Caressing his breathless face, she clung to hope, sensing a stir in his limbs. But, as his teeth began to clatter, her heart sank—horrified to see him gnawing, like a rodent, upon his lower lip.
“Stop this! Stop this!” Frantically, Supergirl held his jerking body. But no matter her efforts, his limbs continued to flail. Until, a second later, the only movement that remained was from the mucus spilling out from his orifices.
Consumed with grief, she felt the urge to scream. But her voice stuck in her throat. Overwhelmed, not by heartache, but by the sound of an all-too familiar laugh.
----------------------------------44---------------------------------
“How adorable. You actually thought you’d won.”
Supergirl’s skin crawled upon hearing Riven’s booming voice. This…this can’t be. Scampering onto her bum, she swiveled, shocked to see her approaching foe.
Wiping the blood from her mouth, Riven cast her gaze between Supergirl’s widely parted legs. But it was the hand in her panties that fueled her wild moans. “You’ll have to give me a minute pet; you really had me going back there on the ground.”
Sickened by the juices squirting down the woman’s legs, Supergirl’s anger swelled. Her lungs heaving, she managed, somehow, despite her dizziness, to haul her leaden body back onto her feet. This isn’t possible. This is not right! Gasping and panting, the Girl of Steel clenched her fists, meeting the fiery glow of her opponent’s stare.
“Look at you, still playing hero.”
As the Maid of Might cautiously watched the approach of the circling wraiths, Riven was enticed by the teen’s swaying breasts. “Oh, don’t tell me you actually thought you’d escaped your bonds on your own? Silly child.” Riven’s burst of laughter reverberated in the young blonde’s ears as she whirled, showcasing her shapely legs, to meet the crackle of Ague, Scarlatina and Taenia’s whips.
Rao, I’m surrounded. Glancing up at the sky, Supergirl couldn’t believe that she was actually contemplating escape. I don’t even know if I could make it; my muscles…there so sluggish. What if I fall? The media would have a field day if she tried to flee. Her career would essentially be over. Then again...eyeing the remains of her ripped and muddy S...it already is.
How had it come to this? As much at it hurt to admit, Supergirl knew she had met her match. But the thought of defeat was still too much for her pride to bear. How could she run, when Heath, Reggie and all her friends at the Planet were dead? Murdered by this sex-crazed psycho. No! One way or another, Supergirl was determined to make her stand.
“Atta girl” With a lick of her sexually-laced fingers, Riven welcomed Supergirl’s charge. So, predictable.
Lurching forward, Supergirl summoned what little strength remained in her swollen, chaffed and bleeding figure. But even as she swung, she already felt empty—naked in body and soul. Deprived of reason, she had lost her will to fight. And now, having struck air, she welcomed the puss and blood that would surely follow.
She didn’t even know where Riven had gone, such was the villainess’ lethal grace. But she felt her abs buckle. Pulverized by Riven’s knee, the Girl of Steel doubled over, hocking up phlegm.
Convulsing uncontrollably, Supergirl wanted to collapse but her foe wouldn’t allow it. Instead, she found herself being hoisted back up into the air, coughing streams of blood from the pressure that Riven’s hold on the back of her belt was applying upon her bruised-splattered belly.
The gut-wrenching brutality came to an end only after Riven heaved the wailing Girl of Steel into the air, catching her above her head, in an Olympic-like lift.
For a second, Supergirl allowed herself to believe that she was actually flying. Her limbs hanging, not from exhaustion but merely floating in the breeze. Electing to enjoy the sway of her tattered locks rather than the throbbing of her battered breasts. Anything to prolong the pleasurable fiction that the swirling lights weren’t cameras…but stars.
Because, deep down, nothing hurt more than the hard truth: that she remained in the air not by her own volition but by the will of her opponent. A woman whose physical gifts and martial prowess far exceeded her own. Reduced to nothing more than a trophy, Supergirl’s beaten body was now on display. Her conqueror’s booming voice, belting in her ears.
“I told you, I would strip you of everything you hold dear.” Riven’s grandstanding, was proving almost as painful to endure as her grip: one hand clutched around the nape of Supergirl’s neck, while the other latched onto her ass. The fingers of the latter creeping uncomfortably toward her anus. Forcing not only her leotard to shift between her cheeks but her legs to remain tantalizing wide for all to see.
Despite Supergirl’s protests, Riven pressed on. Her thick sinewy frame, pulsing with excitement. A shimmering colossus dressed in nothing more than black military boots and panties. Her gravity defiant breasts casting a spell upon the shell-shocked crowd, as she dangled the defeated Maid of Might above her head. “No more false gods. Those who fail to act when confronted by atrocity are just, if not more, guilty than the wicked who dare perpetrate the crime.”
Suddenly, Supergirl could feel the hulking beauty’s muscles surge—flexing with impossible might. Flushed with panic, she cried out, kicking and flailing…but nothing she did could break her opponent’s hold.
“I am the purge, and you, Supergirl, are the disease.” Having rendered judgement, Riven stepped forward, eager to pass sentence. “Allow me to wash your sins.”
The Maid of Might’s heart raced, clogging her throat upon feeling the rush of air. Her lashing blonde locks obscuring the fear that gripped her crying face as her back slammed against Riven’s extended knee.
The ensuing CRACK and harrowing scream were far less ambiguous, drawing a collective gasp throughout the crowd. Unable to bear the shattering arc in Supergirl’s spine, most looked away—hands clasped over their mouths, silencing their tears.
Riven, on the other hand, held her gaze. Enjoying the gurgle of blood that dripped from the heroic teen’s mouth and the sound of her red boots twitching against the floor.
Locked in the throes of yet another orgasm, the hulking beauty squirmed from the warmth flooding her pelvis. Her ardent eyes and dripping sweat washing over the fractured Girl of Steel. Reaching out to grab Supergirl’s tattered cape, she could feel the crowds’ collective gaze, once again, upon her.
Riven relished their hate; feeding off it as she began toweling herself off—enjoying the feel of the soft, red fabric cooling her steaming muscles. The weak yearn to be led, thought Riven, tossing Supergirl’s raggedy cape into the air. After all, the world they knew no longer existed. Their champion defeated. Broken and sprawled across her knee.
Still, their weakness enraged her. Only the temperance of her master’s voice inside her head, prevented her from taking action. Patience. Empires, like people, rise and fall. Tracing the ouroboros inked across her rippling abs, Riven heeded Matron’s words. The culling could wait. Supergirl’s raised skirt…could not.
Riven’s unsolicited touch caused the half-conscious Maid of Might to stir. She couldn’t believe the ease with which her fingers slipped beneath the heroine’s blue leotard. So little protection for such a coveted spot. Traversing the girl’s smooth mound, Riven felt her excitement, once again, blossom. Not a single hair, incredible! She was exploring forbidden fields. Defiling the closest thing to an angel. A sin that – to the delight of the cameras – she was eager to commit.
But in her own way. And at her own pace. The media would get their show, but first…. There it is. Having latched on, Riven’s wiggling fingers began pulling back on the dangling white string. Sensing resistance, she turned to Supergirl’s fluttering eyes. “Well aren’t you a bleeder,” teased Riven, displaying the heroine’s thoroughly blood-soaked tampon for all to see.
Supergirl could only respond in moans. Her writhing body, floating between life and death. Unaware that her opponent had only begun to leave her mark.
“There, there pet.” Riven’s fingers brushed aside the Maid of Might’s soak-tattered locks to admire her bobbing eyes. Struggling to remain conscious, Supergirl’s baby blues had all but disappeared beneath her lids, leaving behind only her sclera and a steady supply of tears.
But, it was against the young blonde’s chest that the hulking beauty wished to truly display her delicate touch.
“Red is such a beautiful color.” With an admiring glance toward the bloody nub of the heroine’s tampon, Riven prepared to make contact. “So bright.” Confident in her penmanship, she swiftly completed her first stroke.
“It’s a pity, you’re not awake to see this.” Scrunching her brow, the colonel contemplated her next stroke. No doubt it would need to be thicker than the first. “You know, we weren’t even sure the virus’ base symptoms would work against you.” Riven paused, second guessing her approach. “Let alone the more severe neurological effects.”
Pleased with her work thus far, Riven readied her final stroke. “What you’re going through, in case you’re wondering, is a cytokine storm. The fever, the dizziness, the shortness of breath, that’s your own immune system turning against you, desperately attempting to fight off the virus. It’s also why you’re healing so slow.”
With a dramatic flick, Riven gleefully completed her work. “Voila! Now, the real tricky part was figuring out how long it would take for you to be affected. Obviously – with your abilities – the violent seizures, compulsive self-chewing of the flesh, all that good stuff, was out.”
Admiring her handiwork, Riven nodded, signaling her approval. “You just don’t look the same without it.” Celebrating her masterpiece, she tossed her arm into the air and cheerfully watched as Supergirl’s tampon thudded, with a light splatter, at the feet of the nearest camera. Her smile still intact, she returned her attention to the half-conscious Girl of Steel.
“What I’m saying pet, is that we needed certain contingencies. You’ll discover them all soon enough. But the most important of all, was your haughty, little arrogance. “Without it…,” Riven paused, shifting her hand back between Supergirl’s legs—wrapping it around the now slightly blood-stained strip of costume, “...your sexy cunt, might never have been exposed.”
With her distant eyes still fluttering, Supergirl’s limbs continued to jerk. Her glistening body leaving behind a sweaty trail as she was dragged by the crotch of her costume before the press. Vaguely aware of the swarming cameras, she groaned—disturbed to be feeling air, where she knew she shouldn’t. Her famed costume tattered and torn, while her most intimate regions were laid bare, for all to see.
A red S, drawn in her own thick menstrual blood, decorating her heaving chest.
Last edited by girlofsteel 3 years ago, edited 15 times in total.
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
there,s nothing better than supergirl being defeated by a stronger sexier woman thanks for an amazing story bravo.i love your attention to detail and the supporting characters it truly adds to the story.being a fan of your work for years and loving your earlier story,s i see a difference in your writing call it progressing call it darker call it what you may i am a fan of your style and talent.i surely hope you still find the passion to keep writing because you have to enjoy writing as much as we enjoy reading
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
This work doesn't feel repetitive, GoS. Familiar perhaps but then all the stories here have some familiarity to them. It's the nature of the genre. But the quality of your writing and the imagery are as sharp and clean as they've ever been; maybe even more so.
I would suggest you don't abandon your craft at its height but, rather, explore new heroines (possibly one original of your own creation?) and themes that intrigue and stimulate your imagination. I'm finding that kind of enjoyment with my Invisible Woman story (moving off Supergirl and Wonder Woman for a change) and expect to do so with my own OC series down the road.
So finish this remarkable work and then take time to think, reflect and explore new avenues that draw your magnificent imagination. We who appreciate your gifts implore you to consider it. And as always, thank you for sharing your vision and your talents with us.
I would suggest you don't abandon your craft at its height but, rather, explore new heroines (possibly one original of your own creation?) and themes that intrigue and stimulate your imagination. I'm finding that kind of enjoyment with my Invisible Woman story (moving off Supergirl and Wonder Woman for a change) and expect to do so with my own OC series down the road.
So finish this remarkable work and then take time to think, reflect and explore new avenues that draw your magnificent imagination. We who appreciate your gifts implore you to consider it. And as always, thank you for sharing your vision and your talents with us.
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Any hope that you will finish writing this story, GoS?