Supergirl in The Super Spreader

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McGheeny
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Supergirl in The Super Spreader

Post by McGheeny »

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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
Last edited by McGheeny 2 years ago, edited 6 times in total.
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Re: Supergirl in The Super Spreader

Post by Bronson881 »

Very good so far. Looking forward to more to this story.
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Re: Supergirl in The Super Spreader

Post by McGheeny »

Bronson881 wrote: 2 years ago Very good so far. Looking forward to more to this story.
Much appreciated! Updated with a version that wasn't a draft copy. Sorry for the mix up.
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Re: Supergirl in The Super Spreader

Post by McGheeny »

There are Dreams and There are Nightmares

There is a pinch on Kara’s right cheek which brings her out of darkness. Between awake and asleep her chin bounces off her chest. Her eyes are still closed but the fatigued teen is slowing regaining consciousness. The first sensation she experiences is an overwhelming feeling of weakness. As her lucidity returns, Supergirl begins to wince. Faint throbbing from different areas on her young Kryptonian body grow become sore. Soreness becomes aches, which become sharp pains, as the blonde girl’s entire body registers hurt, “ahoowoo…”

SMACK! “AHOOO!” cries Kara as the sharp sting of an open palm makes contact with her right cheek. Her head is snapped to the left and rolls back, chin to chest. She struggles to come too but vagueness of the mind hinders her efforts.

“Wake up Supergirl!” snarls a familiar deep voice. SMACK!

Thick fingers of a man’s left hand run through her blonde tresses, twist and grab hold of a lock of hair, as her head is brusquely yanked upwards. “HEY!” groans a now semi-conscious Supergirl. Her blue eyes half open as she finds herself face to face with the man calling himself Detected Denson. SMACK! “HEY!”

“SHUT UP SLUT!” growls the man. “You don’t speak until you are told to. Get it?!” He accents his statement by shaking the girl’s head by her hair.

“STOP THAT!” demands Kara. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “AUAAOO!” The crisp contact to her cheeks for all intents and purposes aid in clearing her head. Her eyelids narrow, her brows furrow, and her nostrils flare, as the young girl shows her incensed disapproval of the man’s offensive treatment. Several angry breathes through jacked nasal passages ignites the reminisce of the sickly-sweet aroma of the cloth used to render her queasy and unsteady.

“Bitch!” says the dark-haired man. Snatching the young girl's head up by her hair, he leans into Supergirl’s angry face. “You are a slow learner, but I like that. More fun for me.” Straightening up, he draws his right hand back, grins and, SMACK!

“AUOOU!” Kara’s eyes open wide as they begin to water. Furious, Supergirl attempts to bring up her hands to defend herself but discovers they are handcuffed behind her back. The blonde heroine struggles for a moment against the metal bonds but it’s no use. Kara looks up just as the right-hand swings into and past the right side of her face, SMACK! “AHOOO! STOP THAT!” She must find a way to stop this man. It is at this point the young heroine takes stock of her situation.

Seated in an uncomfortable hardwood chair, Kara’s is handcuffed, and her dangling legs are spread wide open. Her ankles are bound to the back legs of the chair keeping her in this vulnerable position. Her sweater is opened, her t-shirt remains pulled up and her jeans are undone, exposing her Supergirl uniform just underneath her clothing.

There is very intense pain emanating in her right cheek. This pain served to temporarily suppress the far greater pain that now begins to manifest in her delicate feminine regions. She shouldn’t be feeling any pain, she is Supergirl. Overwhelmed by the aching in her breasts and loins it took a bit before a familiar nauseousness to come to the forefront of her senses. The Kryptonian teen knows this feeling all to well. She is in the immediate presences of Kryptonite. “Auahaooo…” Her eyes search her surroundings. In seconds the good girl focuses on the chains maintaining the chair in the air. They are made or treated with the deadly element.

The dark-haired, non-detective gets a knowing grin crossing his lips. He shakes the trapped and well worked over Supergirl by her blonde mane, “I see you are fully awake now. Good. Let’s get started.” He curtly releases the girl’s hair and moves around behind her. He stands out of her sight watching Supergirl’s head turn this way and that. The teen heroine is desperately trying to see what he is doing. Laughing to himself, he steps up, grabs her by the hair again, leans into her right ear and says, “Now you will learn to take orders from me. Your first order is…you will call me, Master.”

“HA!” Kara uncontrollably bursts out in a half laugh. “In your dreams.”

The man moves to the girl’s left ear, “You want to test your resolve? Fantastic!” He pushes her head forward releasing his grip. He turns to a six-foot table and looks over a myriad of unusual tools and metal devices.

A nervous curiosity grows on Kara’s pretty face. “What are you doing back there?” She turns far to the right but cannot see him. She turns left and the same. The young heroine is becoming concerned. She is used to the bad guys cheerfully and egotistically laying out their plans for her demise. This man remains silent. “You won’t get away with this,” she warns, but no macho reply. She struggles against her bonds, but it is no use. The proximity of the Kryptonite chains suspending the wooden chair keeps her superpowers at bay. Turning to her right again, “So what is your BIG plan?” Silence. “Do you REALLY think you can keep me here?” Nothing.

A fresh wave of unease washes over her entire young amazing body with a series of shivers. She decides to change tactics, “So, what was on that rag you used on me?” She works to free her hands as she continues, “Where did you get Kryptonite chains?” The constant lack of verbal communication is now annoying Kara. Finally, the blonde teen snarls, “Look, Detective Denson, or whoever you are, I do not have a master.”

His back to the captive Supergirl, Denson picks up a tool. With deliberate keen focus he inspects it for a moment, then places it back on the table. Behind him he can hear the girl prattle on as she tests her situation for an opening. His hand floats over several of the specialized items before stopping. He picks up the prospective choice and smiles. Satisfied with his choice he pulls a rag from his pocket, turns, and looks over his prisoner. He can smell panic and knows Supergirl is almost ready. Time to wear her down a bit more first. He steps up, reaches his left hand around her head, and presses the cloth over the heroine’s face.

Kara lurches out of alarm. Her blue eyes open wide as an all too familiar scented cloth covers her nose and mouth. “MMMMMPPHFF!” She turns her head side to side but it’s no use. The coarse hand with thick fingers keeps the burning cloth in place. The more she fights the faster the dangerous fumes saturate her nostrils again. Supergirl puts all her efforts into the resistance, bouncing and swinging in the suspended chair. The only result is the foggy cloud eclipsing her mind. Supergirl is rapidly succumbing to the toxic rag and is helpless to resist.

In a moment or two the young sexy blonde’s struggle slows and finally she melts into the chair. The man holds the dastardly cloth in place for another couple of minutes. Confident of Supergirl’s helpless status he removes his hand and the wicked saturated rag. The non-detective circles around to the front of his captive.

An overcome and drowsy Supergirl can barely raise her head to see the man before her. “Why don’t you…let me loose…and try me…one on one?” breathes the lethargic girl defiantly. Just then, she notices the man has something in his hands. It’s a black stick. No, it isn’t a stick. It appears to be made of leather. There is a flapping tip on the end. A sudden look of dread widens her baby blue eyes. The man is holding a riding crop in his right hand, and a damp cloth in his left. “What…what…is that…for?” He slaps his left palm several times before looking up at the distraught teen. A panicked Kara sluggishly shakes her head from side to side, “I…don’t think so.”

The man moves to Supergirl. He stuffs the rag into his front pocket. Then, his left hand pulls her sweater open further and lifts her t-shirt higher clearly presenting her perfectly formed 34B mounds of blue. Using his left index finger, he begins poking and flicking the small and squishy knob. Supergirl weakly twists and moves back and forth attempting to keep him from entertaining himself with her body.

“Stop, don’t, don’t do that,” protests Kara. Much to her dismay the man’s finger moves to her left hardening nipple. “Nawooo,” but the girl’s fearful complaining does nothing to hinder the man’s having fun at her expense. She tries to focus her mind, shore up her resistance, but it is no use. The noxious fumes have filled her lungs and utterly reduced the teen heroine to a hapless bound dizzy blonde.

The man calling himself Denson changes tactics. Instead of flicking the well-presented points atop of Supergirl’s tits he begins harshly pinching and twisting her nipples.

“OUOSTOP!” shrieks the 5’6” tone and tan 118 lbs. Supergirl. Intense surges of piercing pain radiate from her sensitive left nipple. “STOP THAT!” she desperately tries to free herself but his grip on her is maliciously unyielding. The sharp bolts of pain have the affect of helping to clear her mental haze. “STOP THAT!”

When the two knobs are prominently at attention topping those two magnificent breasts, on either side of her “S” shield, the man really goes to work. Removing the rag from his pocket Denson places the end of the crop in the toxic damp cloth and squeezes. He is covering the leather tip with the same liquid that has such a devastating effect on Supergirl’s physical state and mental capacity. Denson begins teasing the girl’s breasts with the flap at the end of the crop for a moment before saying, “Call me Master,”

An angry Kara growls, “STOP THAT NOW!” Suddenly her left nipple receives two severe whacks. “AHEY! STOP!” The crack of leather viciously directed to the very tips of her defenseless nipple stings!

“Call me Master,” repeats the man. He places the rag back in his pocket, then takes her right nipple in his left finger and thumb and twists. At the same time the non-detective cruelly whacks her left nipple again. As he ruthlessly twists the rock-hard knob he now focuses the riding crop on the girl’s inner thighs. SNAP! SNAP!

“AHO! AHO!” the sting registers several inches below her crotch. SNAP! SNAP! He is alternating from side to side, “OUO! AOUO! STOP!” SNAP! SNAP! The whip causes Kara’s hips to jerk in the hard-wooden chair. SNAP! SNAP! “STOP! STOP IT!” protests the teen. Unfortunately, her demands are met by the man focusing his strikes ever closer to her loins. The well-placed blows trigger spasms in her swelling labia. SNAP! SNAP! “AHHOMYGOOSSHH!”

Denson enthusiastically pinches and twists Supergirl’s right nipple as he takes aim and slaps her left nipple with the crop several more times WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! “Call me Master Supergirl,” he demands. He switches back to twisting her aching left nipple and smacking her on the upper inner thighs. CRACK! CRACK! He watches her sexy young body writhe as her knees desperately try to close but can’t. Her upper body sways this way and that but cannot free her tortured nipple. SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

“AWOOOO! STOP HITTING ME! AOUOU!” Kara’s hips are now frantically working back and forth. Unfortunately for Supergirl, the crotch seam of her Levi’s now unkindly saw into her pubic mound, separating her lips, and grinding on her awaken clitoris. “Aha! Nawo! Nao! Auaha!”

To Denson’s trained ear, there is a distinct change in Supergirl’s tone. The defiance has melted away leaving a more pathetic girlish begging. With obvious practiced skill, he smiles as he increases the frequency and vigor behind the crop. He slaps known sensitive areas on her lovely young female body. “Call Me Master!”

“AOU! AUO! AOO!” Unrelenting pain is successfully eroding Kara’s spirit. Tears are welling up in her baby blue eyes, her nose is running, and her tormented body is a raw nerve. Every snap sends sharp fingers of pain running through her entire frame. She struggles to ignore the stinging torture, but the Kryptonite chains, damp leather tip and the beating her breasts took earlier combine to undo her resolve. He slaps her left nipple for several minutes before taking it into the sadistic pinching fingers of his left hand. Desperate to escape the trapped Supergirl searches her clouded mind for anything that could save her. Meanwhile, the young blonde heroine continues to take the man’s methodical expert punishment.

“You are mine Supergirl,” grunts the man. SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! He aims and continues to torture the girl’s left nipple.

“OH! OUOO! AOUNAWOO!” The prolonged brutal torment ultimately is too much for Supergirl. Extreme pain finally makes the young Kryptonian female relent. An openly weeping Kara bows her head, she steadies her breath, and calls him, “Master.”

The man in dark jeans and black t-shirt pauses. Relishing in the sweet sounds of the girl of steel calling him master fills him with wild excitement. He steps back and admires his work. A shattered dejected and sniffling Supergirl slumps into the chair. She probably thinks this is over.

As sharp pain emanates from her breasts and thighs Kara begins to mentally struggle with her new position. Adding to the agony her body has just received, now, the hardwood chair is becoming very uncomfortable. No matter how she repositions herself the girl’s small butt is complaining. She rolls from one cheek to another, but her rear can get no relief. Caught up in the moment the teen does not see the man moving around her.

Denson moves to Supergirl’s left side. He stares at her for a moment before circling around out of the girl’s site. Softly placing four fingertips of his left hand on her belly, the man slowly makes small circles. As Supergirl shifts uncomfortably in the chair the finger circles grow and take a new direction, heading south.

The sensation and location of the man’s touch causes an undone Kara new concern. She looks down as the man’s hand reaches around from behind her and works its way down her abdomen. Despite her revulsion, a mounting sensation of excitement and pressure develops in her core. “Wait, wait, what are you doing?” When his fingers gradually pass her uniform belt and begin rummaging into her skirt, she knows, “Nooo…Stop that…”

The man in charge is taking advantage of Supergirl shifting and rocking to relieve her sore butt. Little did she realize she is only facilitating the man’s hand as it dives down the front of her pants. With a pathetic groan the young heroine pulls her hips back, attempting to avoid the rudely brazen hand.

Kara desperately tries to defend her virtue. In this situation, Supergirl is powerless to escape this embarrassing reach for her crotch, “Don’t do this, please.”

Slowly Denson’s fingers gather the red material of the heroine’s short skirt, pulling it free from Supergirl’s jeans. As the skirt is hiked the blue material of her leotard is exposed. Now, his fingers run over the girl’s pelvis and her covered pubic mound. He begins to make circles again pressing into the silky material covering a small patch of pubic hair. As he searches for her pussy the youngster begins anxiously shaking and twisting. He reaches around with his right hand and starts snapping the girl’s tits with the crop. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

“AHOO!” squeals Kara as the crop stings her left nipple again. Strangely enough the pain caused Supergirl’s hips to rock back and forth working her entire womanhood into the man’s hand, “AOONAWOOO!” Thick fingers close around the soft swollen flesh covered in blue as he begins crushing Supergirl’s loins, “OUOOO!”
Supergirl in The Super Spreader Part 2.png
Supergirl in The Super Spreader Part 2.png (1.41 MiB) Viewed 3352 times
“Oh Supergirl,” he smiles, “you’re wet. HAHAHA!”

As Denson relaxes his fingers and begins to rub Supergirl’s pussy, he again focuses the crop on her tits and thighs. The blows keep the little blonde heroine’s sexy body wincing and jerking, artfully distracting her from him changing his grip. The non-cop slips his fingers and thumb under and around the blue material of her uniform. Gathering the crotch of her uniform the villain then viciously and nastily yanks upwards. Denson gives Supergirl a World Class Pussy Wedgie.

“UOOWOOO!” squeals Kara. The man mercilessly slaps her breasts and thighs with the whip. “AHOMYGOSH! STOP! NAWOO! STOP! AHAUOOO!” The teen can’t tell which hurts worse, the whip or the wedgie. What she does know, both attacks, to the girl’s tender female parts, are absolutely unbearable. “Please Stop! I will do Anything you Want! Please…Please…Pleaseeee.”

The deviant man suddenly yanks the heroine’s uniform so hard he lifts Supergirl off the chair. Her squealing brings a smile to his face and a tightness in his jeans. At the same time, he rapid fires wicked snaps to those vulnerable magnificent tits. She moans and cries, but it falls on deaf ears. Denson robustly yanks up and down on the crotch of the young heroine’s uniform and ruthlessly snaps those tits. Ultimately, the man holds Supergirl suspended by her uniform, degradingly and painfully splitting her pussy, he leans into her left ear. He has just one word for the blonde girl in so much agony, “Suffer.”

“Aauooo…please stop,” whimpers Kara as tears begin rolling down her cheeks. The pain and humiliation are too much for her. The teen continues to beg him to stop but is answered with even more prolonged harsh punishment. Time is becoming a blur. All Kara knows is the crack of the whip and the pain between her legs. Finally, she screams, “PLEASSEEE STOP! PLEASE! PLEASE MASTER…PLEASE!”

All the sudden the brutal barrage halts. Still suspended by her wadded-up uniform jammed between her vaginal lips, Supergirl is slowly lowered back down to the chair. The sobbing girl is shuddering involuntarily as she tries to catch her breath. Just when she believed she was going to get some relief the man’s hand slips under her uniform and begins rubbing her aching pussy lips. “Ao”.

The broken sniveling Supergirl sits wilted in the chair allowing Denson to finger her. As the devious man slowly massages the blonde heroine’s swollen trembling lips, he uses the tip of the crop to gently roll circles around her pronounced rock-hard nipples. He can feel her suck in air as he playfully taps her left nipple. Her hips jut out and back working herself into his hand. He repeats the love tap to Supergirl’s right nipple with the same reaction from the girl.

Kara bites her lower lip as the degenerate takes astonishing liberties with her modesty and body. The current wickedly inappropriate treatment is having a disgustingly erotic effect on her. The young blonde teen heroine finds herself becoming shamelessly aroused. Yes, after the extremely painfully demeaning abuse to her young body, the amazing Supergirl, girl of steel, is becoming horny. There is a desperate voice of alarm in her head telling her to resist. But, the beautiful blonde teen’s incredible feminine body slowly grinds into the male’s hand down the front of her jeans. The leather crop alternates between rubbing and tapping her breasts. “AO,” gasps the girl as Denson’s fingers attempt to grip her sexually agitated clitoris.

“You are so moist and slippery Supergirl,” he chuckles as he tries to get a grip on that clit. With some work, getting the sex appendage between the second knuckle on his index finger and trapping it with his thumb, the man pinches and twists the hardening slick and rubber female sex. As he torments her clit, he snaps the girl’s left nipple hard! WHACK!

“AUOO!” shrieks Kara. She moves her hips from side to side as the man continues to apply painful pressure to her sensitive clitoris.

“AO! AHO!” two more perfect shots to her aching nipples and a dejected Supergirl is becoming flustered and provoked to abhorrent arousal. As thick fingers begin to pinch and rub her clitoris the girl’s long legs open wider. When the crop slaps her upper inner thigh, dangerously close to her crotch, Kara erratically bucks several times.

Denson leans into Supergirl’s right ear, “Don’t you cum Supergirl.” His index finger and third finger rub those swollen throbbing pussy lips as his middle finger plows a trench between them, running along her clit. Her hips willingly rotate upwards giving him full unfettered access to her crotch. He slaps her thigh with the crop causing her to jump and shudder. He warns her again, “Your Master commands you Supergirl, Do Not Cum Yet.”

Panting and involuntarily responding to the strangely erotic stimulus clearly Kara has never experienced sensual punishment like this before today. Any other time this would be no problem as a furious Kara would NEVER allow herself to endure such indignity. But now, the slow methodical massage of her pulsating labia lips and electrified clitoris is melting her resistance. Add to that the man returning to raucously using the crop on her thighs, breasts and nipples, and Supergirl is in trouble. When some of her vaginal juices escape, she ends up lubricating his fingers. Now the thick digits glide easily over her excited womanhood catching in her pubic hair. “Ahaooyesss.”

At first, the non-detective’s warning came across as a firm statement. Now, Denson moves back to Supergirl’s left ear and commands, “Do not cum Supergirl. Do not cum until your Master allows it.”

“Ahawomygosh! AhoowomyGOSH! AHO! OH! O! OAO!” the talented man’s sexual exploitation of her teen Kryptonian body is too much for Kara. She feels the intense pressure of uncontrollable desire as she tetters dangerously on the edge of an oncoming series of powerful orgasms.

“Don’t cum Supergirl,” growls Supergirl’s Master. He can tell by the swollen pulsating pussy lips, the fully harden clit and the soaking wet crotch of her uniform, Supergirl is about to cum. “I didn’t say you could cum yet Supergirl. Don’t you dare cum or else.”

Kara struggles against the fingers vigorously working her excited clitoris and throbbing wet vaginal opening. She strains against the repeated cruel stinging snap of the crop on her breasts and thighs. She is panting heavily. Desperately the teen tries to stop the flow of want and desire that has built to a crescendo inside her inner core. She is being completely overwhelmed sexually by this man. “Please…Please…Let me…Let…me…ahoo…please…”

“No,” he says dispassionately.

Kara can’t take it any longer. All her pleas have been denied. All her strength to fight this onslaught to her womanhood is gone. The teen arches her back and despite her Master’s demands, Kara’s girlishly curvy hips begin bucking and jerking wildly. She generously drenches the man’s fingers with her feminine nectar. Uncontrolled waves of passion explode over and over inside her. Kara is screaming now as her debilitating orgasms are completely taking over her mind and body. She spreads her legs wider; her hips jut outwards as she grinds against the capable hand in her pants.

Squealing and shaking her head Supergirl lets the man ride her through orgasm after toe curling orgasm. His fingers in her crotch and his whip on her breasts the heroine is sexually out of control. Supergirl, the girl of steel, has become a slobbering shuddering hot and horny slut.

Strategically using his crop, he rides Supergirl through a thoroughly demoralizing and draining series of intense orgasms. He keeps it up until the climax overloaded girl is now completely drained. When she goes limp and has stopped twitching, he removes his soaked fingers. He steps back, sniffs then licks Supergirl’s sweet submission now covering his hand. He casually strolls around to the front of the girl in the chair. As he enjoys the taste and view of the undone sweetheart heroine he knows she needs to be punished.

“Gentleman,” Denson calls to the weasel and Monroe in the outside room. The two hired muggers come into the open door and are stunned at the view. There is a wilted Supergirl sluffed down in a slow swinging suspended wooden chair. The boss says, “Take Supergirl down. Remove her outer clothes. When you have her in her uniform…work her over again.”

A sexually exhausted Supergirl barely lifts her head looking at Denson with half dazed eyes. “You were not allowed to cum until I gave you my permission. You disobeyed me Supergirl.” The man looks to the two men in the doorway, then back to her, “You have to be taught to do as you are told.”

Kara groans as her Master approaches her and places the familiar rag over her nose and mouth. She doesn’t have the strength to struggle as the toxic fumes quickly are sucked into her lungs. The heady sensation quickly takes over. A moment later a sexually finished depleted Supergirl passes out.

Weasel and Monroe follow the man’s command and take Supergirl down. The two work as a team to peel the teen’s outer clothing. Once Supergirl is in her recognizable blue bodysuit, yellow belt, flirty red skirt, boots and cape the drop her to the cold dirty concrete warehouse floor. The men wrap the knuckles on their right hands with the green chains, hoist Supergirl to her feet.

A weak and weary Supegirl can barely stand on those long lean sexy tan legs. Kara is in no shape to defend herself but that doesn’t matter. As she stands swaying on wobbly legs the two muggers go to work on the young blonde heroine, “Ahuuaoooo…”

To Be Continued
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