The character Supergirl is Copyrighted by DC
This work is pure fan fiction. I receive no payment, compensation or benefit from it.
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Johnston’s Diamond Exchange
11:43 p.m. and the crime scene out front has thinned. An hour ago, there were multiple police and additional crime scene vehicles. A dozen or so patrol officers, four detectives, crime scene techs and the duty sergeant. Four bruised would-be robbers were found unconscious at the scene. They have been cuffed, put in the van and are on their way downtown to be processed.
“Anything else you can think of for our report about the robbery?” asks the 6’2” crusty early 60s tall portly Sgt. Keller.
“Nope, that’s about it Sergeant,” muses the 5’6” lean and sexy blonde teen female in the blue bodysuit, red mini skirt, yellow belt, red boots with yellow trim, red cape and the signature “S” shield proudly displayed between the 34B blue mounds on her chest.
Sgt. Keller and Supergirl are surrounded by two detectives and a lead patrolman. The towering figure looks to the others, “Okay finish here and we will debrief at the station.” The others nod and as they disperse say, ‘Good-bye’ to Supergirl as they head for their cars. When they are alone Sgt. Keller turns back to Supergirl, “You know,” he paused as he looks the young Kryptonian up and down, “You are asking for trouble.”
“Trouble?” inquires Kara with a tilted head and coy smile on her full pouty rose-pink glistening lips.
“Don’t act all innocent with me Supergirl,” grunts Sgt. Keller, flipping the cover of his notebook closed and placing in his pocket. He can see the glint of light reflecting in the girl’s bright blue eyes and shakes his head, “You have been thwarting the criminal efforts of the local bosses here in Metro City.” The blonde girl, that looks like she could be a high school girl in that blue and red costume, folds her arms across her chest and shifts her weight to her right hip. “There is talk…”
Kara rolls her eyes and chuckles, “Talk? What kind of talk Sergeant?”
The large policeman steps forward, “The families have hired a specialist. This person they hired, if true, is not someone to dismiss or be trifled with, not even by you Supergirl.”
The beautiful heroine defiantly takes her recognizable power stance, “Sergeant Keller, I appreciate your concern, but I am confident that there is little these, Families, or this person they may have hired can do to me.”
With an obvious look of frustration Sgt. Keller turns away heading for his vehicle, “You are making a BIG mistake Supergirl.”
“Sergeant…Sergeant…Sergeant?” calls Kara to the man’s back. He isn’t acknowledging her. Aggravated, the girl takes a half-bound leaping into the air, flying over, and landing several feet ahead of the man’s path. Touching down the determined blonde heroine turns and walks towards the tall man, “Okay, tell me about this, person”.
He attempts to side-step the girl, “No,” but Supergirl steps in his way. He stops suddenly before retreating a step. “You’re Supergirl,” he says, with feigned exasperation, “You have nothing to worry about.” Again, he tries to navigate around her, but the young blonde girl is now insistent to block his way. Supergirl once again takes her power stance, only this time, there is a look of frustration on her pretty face. “Look, I get it. You are Supergirl. I just think you are foolishly overlooking the fact that this person never fails.”
“Never fails,” repeats Supergirl her head tilting to the right.
“He, it’s a man,” begins the old cop, “He comes at a high price and he has never missed an assignment. When there is a job that just HAS to be done, he's the guy.”
“So, you are saying these families have hired a hitman to take me out?” muses Kara. She sees the officer’s look of frustration and disgust at her lighthearted response. Kara loses the smile, “A hitman, to take me out?”
“Not just any hitman Supergirl,” Sgt. Keller says in a grave tone, “This is a twisted individual, who has never been caught, and, he enjoys making his targets suffer.” He sees those blue eyes darting back and forth trying to decern the truth in his statement. “He has many nicknames, but the one that sticks is Cat. They call him that because he methodically researches and tracks his prey, catches them, plays with them to Ad Nauseam before completing his contract.”
Kara drops her chin, raises her brows, and looks at the officer, “Sergeant, he is still only a man…”
“HE NEVER FAILS Supergirl,” insists Sgt. Keller. He raises his right hand and points at the heroine, “You won’t see him coming. He delights in degrading and punishing his targets, mentally and physically, over a LONG period of time. THEN, when he is good and tired of you, that will be the end of you, Supergirl.” He straightens up looking down on the girl, “I just don’t want to get that call. The one informs me to come to your final scene.”
The fierce truth can be heard in Sgt. Keller’s words, seen in the intensity of his gaze and taken from his ridgid posture. Kara looks down and away. ‘Could there actually be someone out there who could defeat her? And possibly kill her?’ the thoughts begin to bounce around in her head for a long moment. Finally, the blonde teen looks up, “Thank you for the warning Sergeant. I will heed your words with the level of concern they obvious contain. Can you tell me more about this man? His identity, his height, weight, anything that would let me know who he…”
Sgt. Keller slowly shakes his head as his green eyes never leave her blue eyes, “No Supergirl. I can’t. He is a ghost.” There is a moment of uncomfortable silence before the policeman says, “Be careful Supergirl.”
The good girl nods and puts a forced smile on her lips as the man moves past her. Kara stands fixed in that place until she hears the man’s car door shut. The heroine turns to look over her right shoulder at the man in the car window. He dips his head once and she waves. As the car drives off, for just an instant, the Kryptonian hero stands lost in thought.
Suddenly a cool breeze races over Kara’s long lean sexy bare legs, running up under her skirt triggering an uncontrollable shudder. Brought back to the moment the girl of steel looks around to find the last of the police vehicles are driving away. She is alone. There is another shudder and the young heroine is not sure if it was a breeze, or the foreboding words of the sergeant echoing in her head. “Get a hold of yourself Kara,” groans the girl. She looks to the dark star-filled Metro City night sky, leaps into the air, and disappears.
It’s Been Several Weeks
Since the robbery at Johnston’s Diamond Exchange. On a cool Thursday October morning Kara, in her disguise as mild-mannered sophomore co-ed Linda, is walking to her computer design class at Metro University. Despite the 58-degree weather the sun is shining making the mere three block walk to campus pleasurable. Dress in a pair of comfortable formfitting faded blue jeans, white printed T-shirt and red knit hoodie sweater, the girl in glasses and brunette wig smiles. Face up, eyes closed, she soaks up the healthy invigorating rays of the yellow star Earthlings call the Sun.
Linda makes her way along the sidewalk through the old standing neighborhood, as she has done for a year and a half. The teen pays little attention to her surroundings as she passes the occasional picket fence and sparse old trees whose gold and orange canopies cover both the branches and the pavement at her feet. Strangely, she never heard the approach of the person whose hand reached around her left cheek and pressed a sweet-smelling cloth over her nose and mouth. “MMMMMMP!”. When a large arm reached around her right side pinning her arms and pulling her into a broad chest, lifting her off the ground, the surprised girl began to struggle. She can’t see her mugger, but by the thickness of the arm squeezing her, and the fact she has been heaved off her feet, clearly, they are formidable and over six feet tall.
“Do you got her?” says a male voice.
Kara can smell the toxic sweetness in the damp rag. Having been caught off guard she inadvertently inhaled several breathes of the pernicious fumes. She struggles, finding the grip on her somewhat challenging, even for her. Suddenly, the other mugger appears in front of her attempting to grab her legs. The weaselly looking dark haired 5’9” scraggy pasty man appears to be in his late 20s. His lean face has beady shallow dark eyes, a small crooked nose, thin lips, and a weak chin covered by scrubby hair.
“Here, this will help, HUH!” snarls the second attacker as he punches the girl in the belly.
The harsh blow was meant to make her inhale, but unfortunately for the little man, his fist bounced off her abs like a deflated beach ball. Trying hard not to laugh as he hits her again, Linda plays along, “MMMOOMM!” She continues to thrash about, and yes does inhale more of the peculiar scent. Strange enough, she is getting a small contact high from the smell. After the third ineffectual punch she decided enough is enough. Careful, not to use too much strength, the co-ed manages a snap kick to the squirrelly bad guy in his crotch.
“AHOYOUBITCH!” he groans as he grabs his package and folds to the concrete, one down.
Struggling as best as a college age girl could, Linda continues to twist and kick. Whatever that rag in her face is covered with is starting to burn. The girl knows better than to breath in anymore of that vapor. As Supergirl, she would easily break this hold, but to do that now could cause problems for her. His unusual grip on her was beginning to concern her, but, that concern was now being taken over by the cloudy dulling of her mental capacity. ‘What is happening’?
“HEY! LET HER GO!” announces a strong male voice.
Seconds later Linda finds herself bouncing off the sidewalk on her butt, “Ahooawoo”. In front of her the weasel scrambles to his feet and runs off to her right towards a parked blue landscaper’s van. Joining him from behind her is a large muscular bald man in jeans, army boots and dark leather coat. She starts to get to her feet but suddenly, a dizzy feeling comes over her as she slumps back to a seated position. “What is going on?”
“Are you okay?” the same voice that caused her attackers to bolt is now directly behind the girl. “Are you okay?”
Linda feels strong hands on her shoulders, “What?” She looks up to see a round rough olive skin faced man with a five o’clock shadow and deep-set brown eyes. “Who are you?”
“Detective Denson,” as the man looks up to see the van speeding away, “Come with me.” He picks up the unsteady girl and half carries her to his car. Opening the passenger door he ushers her inside.
“HEY!” the door closes on Linda. The rescuing man runs around the front of the car and jumps into the driver’s seat. Closing the door he puts the car into drive and speeds off. Still cloudy, Linda composes herself enough to ask him, “Where are we going?”
Ignoring the girl, the man picks up a handset radio, “Officer in pursuit of 207 suspects driving a blue van with Pruitt Landscaping on the side. Plate unknown. Heading east on central avenue.” He drops the radio on the seat, “Bastards, trying something like this in my old neighborhood. Not today.”
Linda is trying to clear her head as she struggles to keep her balance and focus on the events unfolding. “Detective? What are we doing?” She gets an annoyed look from the short dark haired man in black jeans, dark T-shirt, and brown leather coat.
“We are chasing the men who just attacked you,” snarls the man as he makes a hard right copying the van several car lengths ahead. Gravity from the abrupt turn tosses the young girl into his shoulder, “What is your name?”
Kara can’t shake this cloud in her head, and finds it hard to concentrate with the out of control pace of events as they are swiftly unfolding. In the fogged state she almost gave the man her real name. Pausing, closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath, “Linda, Linda Danvers.” A hard left turn slams the girl into the car door. “HEY!" Striving to right herself she grumbles, "Why am I here?”
At first, the detective appears to be too intent on pursuit to answer. A moment and another hard right turn later he straightens ou the car and says, “You will be able to identify them, right?" He looks over and in an agitated voice repeats,"Right?! Well, I want you there when I arrest them to make sure I get the right men.”
“I think so,” replies Linda. Looking around they appear to be in the warehouse district down by the Clements’s river, It's a main waterway that runs along the Westside boarder of the city. In the old days it was a main site for shipping goods from Metro City. She continues to clear her head, which is now become more than a nuisance. The young heroine is really getting concerned. Another hard left turn and a sudden braking almost sends the girl's head rebounding off the dashboard, “AHO!”
The maroon sedan comes to an abrupt stop fifty feet behind the stopped van. Both vehicles are now sitting just outside of an abandoned series of paint peeling rusting warehouses. Without warning, the detective opens his door and grabs a hold of his witness’s left arm, “Come with me.”
“Whoaoo,” groans Linda. She is pulled across the bench seat and past the steering wheel. In her current fuzzy state she staggers out of the car and has to be pulled to her feet by the cop. Now she is being drug behind the man as he recklessly heads towards the van. At this point, Linda has decided she needs to become Supergirl and to put an end to this nonsense. Unfortunately, she can’t do this being pulled behind some aggressively arrogant and rash cop. “Why am I coming? Shouldn’t I wait in the car?”
“No,” he answers as he and his witness in tow slowly approaching the driver’s door of the van. Carefully he reaches for the door handle with his left hand. Pausing for a moment, he looks back at the girl, and then flings the door open. "Empty! Damn it!" growls the detective. After finding no one inside he pauses and looks around. He looks back to the co-ed, “If I leave you in the car alone and they come back I lose my witness.” He sees an open door, “Come on!”
“Wooohoo,” Linda is yanked towards the open warehouse doors. She, and the detective, enter the dark building. The beam of light shining through the large metal doors illuminate several old crates and debris on a dirt covered cement floor. Her fog has cleared somewhat as she begins to think, something about this detective is not right. The teen's suspicions are halted as a couple gunshots whistles by them.
“Get down!” commands the officer as he pulls the college girl down behind a crate.
“Detective! I really shouldn’t be in here,” protests Linda, “They’re shooting at us.”
“Just stay behind me. You’ll be okay,” replies the man. Just as the girl is about to say something, he gets up and leads them twenty feet across the floor, to a group of stacked crates as several more shots report around them. As they pause and crouch down the detective cautiously peers around the corner of the box. Surprisingly, the doors to the warehouse close.
Linda looks back as the last of the sunlight disappears. “Now what?”
“Okay come on out and face us,” announces a deep male voice.
Linda figures it must be the other attacker as she knows both the weasel’s and the detective’s voices. She watches as Detective Denson continues to search the warehouse from the side of the top crate. All the sudden he pulls back.
“Come on, we’re waiting for you,” says the weasel’s delighted voice.
Now, completely annoyed with the situation at hand, “What do we do?” asks Linda.
“Well, at this point,” says the detective pausing to look down before looking into the girl’s eyes. “I think it is a job for Supergirl.”
Stunned at the comment a wide-eyed Linda says, "WHAT?!" Just then, the man places a similar smelling rag over her face as his left hand grabs her by her hair. Another rag forced over her face. Again, taken by surprise, the girl involuntarily inhales several breathes. There it is again, that sickly sweet heady scent. She’d almost fully recovered from the last dose as she is slow to struggle from the detective’s grasp. “MmmmMMMMmm!”
It is quite the wrestling match holding the cloth over the girl’s mouth, but the detective is managing. The specially soaked cloth, and the element of surprise, gave him all the advantage he needed to get the upper hand on this bitch. “Come on, come on, breath it in Supergirl. Your dates are waiting.” With that statement, he happily pulls the brown wig off the girl’s head. Once revieled, Kara's long blonde mane, beneath the fake hair, cascades down around her pretty face and over her shoulders.
'This can't be happening!' Kara’s eyes open wide! ‘How did he know?!’ There is that strange burning around her nose and mouth. Now, the girl really begins to struggle against both the renewed foggy sensation growing in her mind, and the man's grip on her. The man who knows her secret has the teen heroine in a desperate state. Finally, she pulls his hand and the rag away from her mouth, “HEY!”
Undaunted, the husky man easily slips his hand from Supergirl’s grip and presses the cloth back over her mouth and nose, “Oh you need a little bit more honey.” Not only can he see the glaze clouding her eyes, but he can feel the girl wilting in his grasp. “That’s it Supergirl. Have a little bit more. You are almost ready.” He expected more of a fight but sometimes, plans go better than expected.
‘Is he getting stronger or is she getting weaker?’ fears Kara. Time to make this stop! Summing her strength and conviction the teen pulls the man’s hand from her face and breaks free. “Alright! Who are YOU and WHAT is this about?” To her surprise, the man gathers himself, repositions, reaches for her golden locks and yanks her to her feet. Kara complains and tries to resist as he rounds the corner of the crates dragging her by the hair.
“LET GO OF ME!” growls Kara fully ready to pummel this man until they stop, and she sees the two muggers from earlier, standing about 10 feet away. They both have a VERY sheepishly confident grins on their faces. Strangely, they both have their hands behind their backs.
“Go get them Supergirl,” snarls the dark-haired man as he tosses the girl in jeans T-shirt and red knitted hoodie sweater forward.
Kara stumbles and almost falls before she gets her footing. She is dizzy from the fumes from the rag that now fill her nostrils and have invaded her lungs. The pluky young heroine shakes off the effects for a moment, “Okay boys, I don’t want to hurt you.” She takes a defensive stance preparing for them to attack. Seemingly completely ignoring her warning, both men chuckle and couragously step forward. “Alright, but remember boys, you asked for this.”
Supergirl aims a right haymaker at the taller man but before she makes contact, he drops to one knee and punches her in the midsection, “AOOUUPPPHHFFF!” A burning and sharp pain erupt on her abdominal muscles as she staggers several steps back holding her stomach. Looking up at the outstretched hand of her attacker she sees a green glowing chain wrapped around his fist, “Aaooownawoo.”
Before the blonde girl can move, the weasel jumps into the air and comes down with a punishing green chained fist to the girl's left cheek. The blow immediately drops the intrepid girl leaving her in agony and sprawled out on the floor. He walks around the downed heroine, “Really? That’s it Supergirl? What a wimp. HAHAHAHA!” As the girl courageously pushes up from the dirty floor he grabs a handful of her flaxen silky hair. He pulls the teen heroine to her knees before slamming another vicious fist to her face, “HUNHHH!” dropping her to the cold filthy cement floor again.
A truly stunned and wounded Kara can’t tell if it is the effects from the rag or the stunning Kryptonite chain blows.All she does know, she is hurting, and in trouble. “AOUUO!” she takes a kick to the right side flipping her over to her back. She has to fight back but in her current state she finds herself in dire straights. Now, the big bald muscular man reaches down, grabs her by her hair and jerks, “HEY!”
Rudely pulling the dazed girl to her feet with his left hand the man draws back, takes aim with his right and drills Supergirl’s left cheek, “HUUHH!” He maliciously grins as he watches her eyes roll back to the top of her head. The large man cocks and delivers another powerful right jab to the face, “HUUUUH!”
“A…” an overwhelmed Kara’s head is swimming now as her arms hang limp at her sides. “AHOU! AHOO! AUNAAO!” three more devastating Kryptonite punches to her face and the girl is getting pulverized. As the big man holds Supergirl in place by her blonde hair she takes several more punches to her kidneys from the thin man behind her, “AHA! ONAA! AHOEEA!” She takes a wild swing at the man in front of her, but his arm is longer than her reach and her fist misses its target by several inches. “AHOU! OHOO! AOOO!” Defenseless, the good girl takes two more lower back punches and one to her face.
Dangling from the grip of the 6’2” muscular bald man, Supergirl, is cruelly and effectively being worked over by both men with their right fists wrapped in Kryptonite chains. The helpless girl takes numerous unanswered punches to the cheeks, back and gut. Anytime she tries to punch or kick the big man in control of her hair, she falls short and suffers painful reprisals.
The thoroughly amused detective now leans back against the crates smiling at the show taking place just in front of him. At one point he stops the action, “Gentlemen!” The two attackers stop and a lifeless Supergirl hangs by her hair. “I told you I want her punished AND demoralized.” The two hired thugs stare blankly back at him. With a snort of disgust he says, “Look, this is your golden opportunity. Make Supergirl remember this beating for a long long time. Get creative. Make her sore in places she never dreamed.” The two men now look to each other with renewed vigor. They turn their attention back to the dangling blonde teen female.
A malicious grin comes over the weasel’s face, “Hold her up for me and give me your chain.” As his large partner shakes off the green chain glove, he spins the girl around and places her in a full nelson. The small guy wraps his left fist in chain and tests it by punching his right palm. Satisfied with the fit he looks to the pathetic blonde. Putting his thumb to his chin as he saunters up to the young girl on display, “So Supergirl…How do you like your tits getting worked over?” As the girl’s eyes begin to open, “HUUUH! HUHH! HUH! HUH! HUH!”
“AOOOUUOO!” wails Kara, as unspeakable agony shows on her face. She winces and cries while chained covered knuckles repeatedly drive into her soft well-presented breasts. She is unable to free her arms as the nasty scrawny man takes extreme pleasure as he takes humiliatingly painful pot shots at her chest. She twists and writhes but the large man behind her has a firm hold on the weakened Supergirl. “AHO! AHO! STOP! STOP! STOP! AHOOUUO!” The weasel has a HUGE smile on his face as he grunts and snarls as each and every disgusting punch lands. When her obnoxious attacker steps back taking aim again Kara lashes out with the ball of her right foot landing squarely on the balls in his pants, “HUUUUUGH!”
There is no sound from the weasel as he crumples to the ground. He curls up into a ball rocking back and forth. He finally looks up, straining with misery and torment, he says, “Break her Monroe!”
“AHOAA!” squeals Kara as a large hand moves from the back of her neck. The man named Monroe reaches down and grabs her crotch from behind. As large fingers close over her loins the big man begins to ruthlessly crush her womanhood. "AUOOUOOO!" squeals the young Kryptonian female as tears fill her eyes. The man’s other hand takes her by the neck as she is handily hoisted high into the air.
The 6’2” man now holds Supergirl nine feet in the air. There is just a slight pause before dropping to one knee and slamming the beautiful teen across his outstretched knee. There is a loud scream as the debilitated girl is now heinously bent over his thick lap. With his hand in her crotch, again crushing her pussy, the other on her throat, he presses the blonde girl over his knee attempting to break her in two. His single minded desire to snap this slender blonde bimbo in half eclipses the world around him. His dark eyes grow wild as he can see the agaony on her face and hear the girl's screams of unbearable pain. He wants to break Supergirl.
“AHOUUUUO!” wails Supergirl as the immense pain radiates all over her body from the small of her back. The large thick fingers squeezing her jeans into her labia REALLY hurt, the hand on her throat chocks her, and the tortourous knee in her back is cruelly straining her to the breaking point. “AHOOUUUUSTOP!” To bad for her the big man clearly doesn’t care.
Slowly, the weasel gets to his feet. He is bent over holding his balls watching his partner fold Supergirl backwards over his knee. When his is up to it, “Pick the bitch back up!” There is a momentary snarl on the big man’s face. He stares at his younger cringing partner, down at the bent wracked blonde and back to his partner. There is the definite look of animosity as he press the hapless honey further making her ball and beg. Finally, with the look of rancor, he releases his hold on the girl. He stands and lifts the wilted Supergirl to her feet. “Kick her legs apart!” With some adjustments the large man suspends Supegirl upright by holding her wrists over her head her. Using his right foot, Monroe kicks the girl's feet spreading her slender legs wide. The young man has now wrapped a chain around his right foot. He straightens up takes aim and steps into a brutal punt kick to the girl’s pussy, “BITCH!”
“AHOOOOOO!” comes from the mouths of the detective, the large man, and of course…Supergirl. Those long legs go wobbly as her knees turn in attempting to protect herself. But there is no protection from another kick. With a quick yank upwards by the bald man her legs straighten out. He kicks her feet apart again and she is in a VERY vulnerable position again. The weasel goes to work on the good girl’s tits for almost a full minute before sending another kick to the cunt, “HUUHH!” Tears are freely running down Kara's face as the thin man goes to work on her tits again. A moment later, she suffers the angry little man's attempt to kick a 50 yarder as he perfectly splits the goal posts landing his foot between her legs.
That's it! Kara is completely undone. Helpless and hurting she takes an unforgiving and relentlessly humiliating and painful beating from the weaselly guy. The Kryptonite, the rags with the toxic fumes, and the unstoppable beating is too much for Supergirl. Her young lithe amazing body is just one throbbing painfulled female frame. Even on the edge of consciousness she feels every disgusting punch, elbow, knee and kick. She is done. It's over. They have her. Just as Kara is about to pass out, the blows stop.
The scrawny thug is about to kick Supergirl in the cunt again when the detective steps in to stop him. “That’s enough for now.” The little man has a very intensly irritated look on his face, but he doesn’t dare cross his boss. He shakes off the hand on his shoulder and moves away from his personal super-bitch punching bag. The man calling himself detective walks up to the destroyed Supergirl. His left hand pulls her head up by her matted yellow mane and looks over the barely conscious face of his prey. “How’s it going Supergirl?” He turns her head this way and then that, “Looks like you’re having a bad day.” He drops her head, “It’s about to get WAY worse.”
The Detective’s right hands reach down unfastening and opening her sweater. He then lifts her T-shirt exposing the “S” shield on her hidden uniform. Now both hands take a hold of her jeans as he undoes the buttons and yanks the faded denim open showing off her yellow belt and red skirt. He grins as his right-hand dives down the front of the girl’s jeans. His fingers work through the red material reaching for the well worked over super-pussy. He gets his four fingers past the skirt as he feels the swollen pubic mound covered by her bodysuit. He smiles as he slowly begins to rub those swollen pummeled pussy lips. The helpless Supergirl moans her protest but he audaciously keeps rubbing.
“nawooo,” moans Kara as she attempts to close her knees.
“YOU!” the detective says to the weasel, “Hold her legs open.” The little man moves to Supergirl. Kneeling in front the girl, placing his hands on her knees, he pushes her legs open, parting the girl’s thighs. The man in charge turns back to the diminished girl and continues to knead Supergirl’s sweet spot. He moves in close to the teen’s right ear, “Well now Supergirl. How does it feel to be nothing more than a piece of meat?” He presses his fingers into the blue material splitting those swollen pussy lips now targeting her hardening clit. Moving to the other side of her face, “I am going REALLY enjoy making you squirm bitch,” he whispers in her left ear. His fingers can feel the girl's pulse getting stronger as he increases the pressure and tempo on her clit. He releshes seeing those pouting lips part as Supergirl gasps for air.
Is it that Kara is still under the effects of the soaked clothes or is it the pain in her breasts and crotch? It could be the combination of all that keeps her from focusing her resistance to the man's abominable touch. FAR different from the punishment she has taken, now the pain is gradually turning to a warmth that is melting Kara’s core. Despite being offensively handled by this foul man, Supergirl is getting amorous feelings. The fingers playing with her clitoris are now causing her girlishly curvy hips to rock up and back. She doesn't want this. She hates herself for being weak. The feeling of sexual excitement is quickly starting to become an uncontrollable and undesirable want. The unwelcome fingering is becoming her world, “naooo…naowoo…nooo…”
The detective keeps rubbing as his left hand runs up her under Supergirl's T-shirt. His left index knuckles and thumb searches for and then takes a sadistic hold of her left nipple. He pinches and twists the hardening knob as he methodically massages that fully excited pussy. The look of agony on the girl’s normally pretty face brings him great pleasure. Clearly, these are sensations the young Kryptonian good girl is not use to, but craves deeply. He is slowly bringing her to orgasm, building on her frustration turning it into desire. She is feebly struggling to deal with that fact. The first sign of wetness in her crotch exposes the girl’s vulnerably. “How does it feel to be made to cum for me Supergirl.”
“nawoo…please stop…please…nooo…” groans Kara as she desperately tries to suppress the feelings of want and the warmth. The man's hands are fueling a sexual appetite the teen is unaccustomed to experiencing. Hot aching sensations causing pressure in her core as a throbbing yearning grows in her loins. The fingers continue to rub her and the painful pinching and twisting of her nipple has Supergirl's hips humping and wiggling side to side. Menatally she doesn’t want to, but physically she is about to enthusiastically climax for this man.
“Come on Supergirl. That’s it. Cum for me Supergirl. Surrender…Surrender!” urges the man. The young Kryptonian is squirming, panting and squealing. It is close now. Supergirl is about to pop. That is the moment when he stops, and pulls his hands from the red-hot horny bitch. With a complete sense of satisfaction, he looks to the big man, “Bind her in the chair. You guys attach the Kryptonite chains and hoist her up.” He turns and begins walking across the warehouse.
A breathless Kara gasps, "Detective...why..."?
Without looking back the man says, "Oh ya Supergirl, I'm not a detective. But, I do always get my...Supergirl. HAHAHA!"
Monroe spins Supergirl around and tosses her over his right shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Then he and his weasel buddy follow their boss across the empty warehouse floor.
To Be Continued
