June ‘10
Amy sat slumped, ass perched upon the edge of the swivel chair, legs spread. The blinds were shut, dark drapes drawn, the only illumination this late at night coming from the computer screen before her as a slide show slowly played, each digital picture more revealing, more perverted then the one proceeding. She watched, face burning with embarrassment, as the scene played out, remembering that night when Lex had taken the photos, remembering the humiliation of it all, as well as the desire that had burned within her, as it did now.
She spread her legs a little wider, pushing the waistband of her snug cotton panties down a little further, her fingers gently caressing her newly shaved mound. It felt wonderful. So erotically smooth, so dirty. She liked that, that it made her feel so dirty. She could smell the scent of her desire, the slightly tangy smell of her cunt as it slowly soaked her panties. Her chest rose and fell, her breathes deep as her fingers explored her smoothness, being careful to avoid her swollen lips, wishing she dared brush against her engorged clit. Lex had given her strict instructions not to touch herself, instructions that she was flirting with disobeying just my running her fingers over her naked mound.
She couldn’t help it. It had been close to a month since she’d last cum, screaming wordlessly as orgasm after orgasm reduced her to a sopped, shaking mass of desire. He’d smiled at her afterwards, that infuriatingly grin of his, equal parts cruelty and affection, telling her it would be the last time until their next monthly meeting. Then, a month hadn’t seemed so long. Now it seemed like lifetime.
She moaned, all too away of how the flimsy material of tee rubbed against her aching nipples, filling her with a lust so strong that it took all of her will power to resist pushing her fingers between her swollen lips and making herself cum. It wouldn’t take much, she thought, as the picture changed once more, the image of herself, legs spread as she lay back on the couch, a single finger stroking between glistening labia filling the screen of her computer. Two more days, she reminded herself. Only two more days, yet she wasn’t sure if she could last that long. The worst of it was, she’d been dreading their next ‘date’ as much as she’d been anticipating it, eager for the next step in the depredations he’d been leading her slowly through. This time, he’d promised, he’d not send her home the next day, sated and yet wanting more. He’d told her to make arrangements for a longer stay. Summer was here and her class schedule wouldn’t interfere with their time together. And this time, he’d told her that nothing would be taboo. All the things they’d discussed over the past several months, all of her darkest fantasies, those that had yet to be explored, would be fair game. This time, there was no holding back.
Shaking, she withdrew her fingers, letting the waistband of her panties fell taut over warm flesh, all too aware of how close she was to breaking her promise. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to think about something else, aware of the lewd image displayed upon her screen, remembering that first night, the night she’d met Lex the first time.
October ‘09
It had been an unseasonably warm week, even for California. After all, it was late October and there should have been a chill on in the air at the very least. As it was, the sun had just set and the night was pleasant. A brisk breeze blew through the quiet neighborhood, stirring the leaves on the maples that lined the street every three houses or so. Nice enough that Amy had considered walking to the party. Had it been anything other then a costume party, she might have. After all, it was a mere 2 miles from the front steps of her modest one bedroom home to the house that Kevin and Jake shared and she didn’t mind the exercise. It was just that she was worried that she would stand out, especially since most of the costumed people walking up and down the street and ringing door bells were 12 and in the care of guardians, most of whom hadn’t bothered to dress up for the evening.
Not that there weren’t exceptions, but like her, most of the costumed adults seemed to be headed to parties and had also chosen to drive. And really, it wasn’t even that she was in costume, it was just that this particular costume had turned out more daring then she had planned. She was a closet nerd who frequented the local comic shop every Wednesday to pick up new titles and Supergirl had been one of her heroines even as a young child. The excuse to dress up as Kara Zor-el, for even one night, had been too good to pass up. She had the figure for it, even if she rarely took advantage of that fact; A slender and athletic build nurtured by her time on both the volley ball and swim teams. Her breasts were on the smaller side, but firm and round with youth, and her waist was small enough that her slim hips and bottom looked fuller then they really were.
Naturally blonde and blue eyed, she didn’t even have to get fancy with a wig to play the part. She’d made the decision moments after receiving her invitation. Yes, she was Supergirl tonight, although a somewhat bashful version. She’s taken great pains to make the uniform perfect, from the gold trimmed crimson cape to the matching boots, all based on several of her favorite art, some of which had been somewhat… well, cheesecake came to mind. It had still captured the spirit of Superman’s cousin, Kara, and she had secretly thrilled that she might turn heads tonight.
Trying it on for the first time two nights ago, had left her unsure, but determined to brave it out. The skirt, that looked so perfect on Kara, seemed far to short for comfort, and much to low on her hips and her top hugged her so tight as to be… well, it certainly was form fitting. Suddenly, she was very thankful that it wasn’t very cold out. Not only would it make wearing the skimpy outfit uncomfortable, but she realized that any little ‘bump’ would stand out quite obviously. The last thing she wanted was to be walking around while everyone stared at her nipples. As it was… well, what was done was done. She could always wrap her cape around her torso. She’d worked to hard to make her outfit authentic to back out now and after one or two drinks, maybe she would stop worrying about it so much.
She hurried out to her car in the short drive, and slipped in, noting how the breeze played havoc, not only with her cape, but her skirt. She’d left her purse behind, only taking her wallet and phone in one hand and her keys in the other. Another mistake, seeing as how she spent the entire 10 yards keeping her skirt in place so as not to reveal her matching blue panties. Getting in was another challenge and by the time she had closed the car door, she was giggling nervously and had all but given up on adjusting her skirt so that it was under her thighs rather then pushed up against the back seat of her Toyota Corolla. Ok, so she’d have to be careful sitting down too. She hoped that she’d discovered all the quirks in her choice of costume for the night.
She arrived fashionably late, and had to park around the corner and about a block and a half up the street. She might have well as walked the entire way, she thought as she hurried down the slight hill, careful not to go too fast, ever mindful of the slight breeze that had picked up since she’d left. She breathed a thankful sigh that the canopy of the trees blocked out some of the glow from the street lights above and cloaked her in shadow. Perfect, she thought. And the party would probably run late, so going home would be easy as well. She glanced at her wrist automatically, before realizing that she had left her watch at home as well. After all, what use did Supergirl have for a watch? If she had to hazard a guess, it was a quarter to nine. The invite had said 8, but it was likely that maybe over half of her fellow invitees hadn’t even showed up yet and might not for another 30 or 40 minutes. Hopefully she wouldn’t stand out too much before having a drink or two, just enough to relax her inhibitions enough to enjoy herself.
It was easy enough to pick out Kevin’s place as she turned the corner. Carved pumpkins lined the walk, fake tombstone filled the front lawn. There was even a lone ghost looking like he was floating back and forth beneath the oak tree that filled one half of their front yard. And lights… it looked like they’d bought up every orange and red light to string up around the eaves of the house and the tree branches. Shadows moved within the windows, letting her know that there was actually something going on inside, and a little bit of music leaked out. She recognized it as Black Sabbath. Typical. More then likely they’d put a lot of care into making CD’s to fit the Halloween theme. She smiled fondly as she finally arrived on the porch, stopped to appreciate the ‘bloody corpse’ that sat in a lawn chair, a severed head in it’s lap, and rang the doorbell.
She was almost immediately greeted and ushered in by Dracula himself, although this vampire seemed to prefer Bud to Blood. In no time at all, she had surrendered her belongings to Jake after gamely letting him nibble on her shoulder and whisper "God, Amy, you look amazing."
She blushed at his praise, but part of her reveled in it as well. It was nice to hear from time to time. After all, she really worked at it and rarely took advantage of it. She gave him a bright smile as a reward and wandered off towards the kitchen, greeting those she recognized before claiming a cold bottle of Sam Adams for herself. She felt a twinge of guilt at that. Supergirl wouldn’t approve. Well, she’d limit herself to 2 for the night and get them out of the way before everyone else showed up. That way, by the time they did, she’d be sufficiently loosened up.
Amy had never been a heavy drinker, and after her second beer in under 45 minutes, she was having a wonderful time, chatting with friends while giggling and smiling at the praise that was being lavished on her for her costume. She was aware that some of it was simply because of the amount of skin she showed but that had stopped bothering her after a while. Now, she had even begin to enjoy it, making an effort to flirt a little with anyone who stopped to chat with her. After a while, she had even abandoned the small knots of friends that she felt safe with to wander about a little, mixing with everyone. It was on of those events where it didn’t matter if you knew someone or not. After all, everyone here was someone else for the night and most of them had, after several drinks themselves, begun to get, more or less, into character. She was no exception.
That was why, when she found herself suddenly standing next to a man dressed as Brainiac, one of Superman’s arch enemies whose mental powers were formidable, it was easy to let herself believe that he might just be able to exert control over mind. Of course, this was all in fun and she didn’t for a moment take it seriously, but when they got to chatting and he seemed intent on playing the part as well, she let herself go along with the game. Taking his suggestion that they find somewhere quiet to talk about their common interest in all things ‘super’ as well as his suggestion that they help themselves to the bar first, she soon found herself sitting on Kevin’s bed next to her arch-nemesis, a rum and coke in hand. They weren’t alone. After all, the party was in full swing and there was a finite amount of space within the house. Fortunately, the weather was still holding and much of the excess had spilled into the back yard.
It made perfect sense, after talking animatedly for close to an hour and a half and finishing off her drink, for her to readily agree to go take a look at his collection of comic related items. From the sound of things, it was pretty amazing and she was curious. Besides, she was still playing the role of Supergirl and trying to find out what his game was. The fact that she’d just finished off a fairly strong drink didn’t exactly make her cautious either. Besides, he was fun and good looking and she’d been having more fun in the last 2 hours than she’d had at the last 3 parties combined.
He lived in the hills, about 20 minutes or so away, and he insisted on driving. As they rode along, their conversation taking on several twists and turns, she admired his handiwork discretely. He’d managed to make his skin green and yet, somehow natural, and the costume she could have well believed to be from a Hollywood film set. Not only that but it was somewhat form fitting, although not nearly as embarrassingly so as hers. Still, it showed off a fine physic. Strange, considering that he was somewhat of a nerd, at least about comic books. But then, so was she in a sense, despite her ‘cheerleader’ good looks.
By the time they pulled into the drive she was feeling relaxed and admittedly buzzed enough not to worry so much about keeping her skirt in place. In fact, she’d forgotten to pay attention at all during the ride and was a little embarrassed to realize that if he had been trying to take a peek at her panties, he would have already gotten more then a glimpse. Shrugging it off, she decided that he had kept his eyes on the road for most of the drive over and if he had snuck one or two glances, she certainly didn’t mind as much as she thought she might have.
The house itself was a modest affair, at least compared to some of the buildings in the neighborhood. As they took the path up to the door, side by side, her cape and hair lifted slightly by a sudden breeze, one that forced her to press her hands against her thighs in a panic as her skirt threatened to blow up as well. Next year, she vowed, she would wear something less… revealing. Then again, she would never have met Brainiac otherwise.
"My secret lair, Kara. Prepare to be amazed."
"Oh, my name is…" she blurted out, suddenly realizing that they’d never properly introduced themselves in all the time they’d spent talking. Before she could finish the sentence, he had pressed his fingers against her lips, silencing her.
"Shush. I know your name already, Supergirl. Kara Zor-el, from the planet Krypton. You forget who I am. I know everything there is to know about you."
His smile was disarming and she decided to go along with the game, nodding her assent before he consented to remove his fingers from her lips. After all, she was kind of having fun not being Amy for a night. No reason that it had to end now.
Smiling with what she thought was a look of grateful relief, he punched in the alarm code on the box near the front door, unlocked the door, and swung it open, motioning her inside. With a nervous giggle Amy stepped inside and waited, looking about curiously, not paying any attention to the fact that he had reset the alarm and locked and bolted the door behind them.
The inside of the house was fairly unassuming. Not exactly boring, but certainly not eccentric. She did appreciate the touch of having framed comic art along one wall. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and The Flash. It was a nice touch, one that she could certainly appreciate especially after looking closer and noting that they weren’t just photocopied prints, but seemed to be the real deal, signed and numbered.
"Wow. These are great." She exclaimed, turning a bright and somewhat tipsy smile towards him.
"Thanks. It’s not like that all over. I just like to be greeted at the door by my heroes when I come home. Can I get you anything? A drink, or…"
Amy shook her head. She was done for the night as far as drinking was concerned. After all, Supergirl wouldn’t get drunk and one more and she would be in danger of just that. Mostly she was just interested in his collection. Not the books so much, but this kind of thing. Artwork, memorabilia. He even claimed to have some rare action figures and dolls that she’d only ever seen on Ebay for ridiculous amounts. It would be kind of cool to actually see them in person. He seemed to sense this. After all, it had been the main topic of conversation right before he had offered to bring her home. With a smile, he took her elbow gently, steering her down the hallway, past several doorways to what looked almost like the door to a bank vault. Amy looked at the arch villain questioningly.
He lifted one eyebrow, going for a menacing look and managing to sell it. Pushing ‘Amy’ back so that ‘Kara’ had room to play, she returned it with one of her own. "What kind of secrets are you hiding, Brainiac?" Somehow, she managed not to giggle immediately after delivering the line.
Chuckling, He moved a framed picture of Lex Luthor aside to reveal a keypad. "Mind turning around or at least closing your eyes?"
Nodding, Amy turned while he punched in the number and then unlocked the door. The lights came on automatically to reveal a room about the size of a very spacious walk in closet. Against the wall to her right stood a trio of curio cases, filled with super hero action figures still in their boxes and statues proudly displayed, as well as other items. She moved in to take a closer look, noting the art work on the wall behind her, as well as Brainiac’s presence.
"These are really cool." She said, admiration in her voice and a little bit of awe as she noticed the anime styled statue of herself… well, Supergirl.
"It’s new." He edged up behind her to peer over her shoulder, so close that she could feel his breath upon her hair, stirring the fine hair on her neck in a way that wasn’t at all unpleasant. She suddenly had an almost overwhelming urge to turn and kiss him. It was his doing, she told herself. He was using his powers on her. It wasn’t at all the alcohol or the fact that it had been at least 6 months since she had been properly kissed. She had no control over it.
It took very little effort to convince herself, and once she did, it took even less to turn into him, tilting her chin slightly upwards. Toes pointed and pushing against the hard wood floor, she almost levitated into the kiss, one she wasn’t sure who had initiated. It didn’t matter. She wanted it. Supergirl wanted it, and it made no difference that he was her worst enemy. She wasn’t disappointed. He kissed her back without hesitation, firmly and decisively. It wasn’t a tentative kiss. It was the kind that she would have expected from Brainiac. Demanding and a little rough. It was a perfect kiss, just the kind she deserved. His hand was suddenly behind her head, his fingers curling in her hair, tightening almost painfully as he turned her with ease and pushed her against the far wall, pressing against her. With no where to go, she had little choice but to let his tongue force her mouth open, violating her with little regard for her wants or desires. It was all about what he wanted. She was powerless to fight him, or so she told herself. He was in control here.
She felt his hand against her bare thigh, short flat nails gripping her flesh, squeezing her playfully, possessively, releasing her as they slide slowly up. She felt the hem of her skirt lifting, his hand upon her hip, his fingers pressing against one cheek as he pushed them beneath her panties. She gasped into his mouth, twisting in a moment of panic at the speed at which he was moving. In response he pulled away from her, his face mere inches from hers, forcing her to meet his dark gaze.
"Where are your powers now, Kara," he whispered roughly, playing the game perfectly. It was a game, after all. At least she thought it still was. Now, she was no longer sure. Not that it mattered. She wanted this too much to care.
"You’ll never get away with this, Brainiac." Tried and true, it was all she could think of with his eyes boring deep into hers. It was like he was looking into her deepest, darkest secrets, searching for something that even she didn’t know existed.
He smiled, his expression softening a little, just enough to reassure her and make her relax. He still held her against the wall, but she sensed that, with the right word, he would let her go. This time it was she who held his gaze. Not Amy, though. It was Kara Zor-el who stared him down, confidant that she would find a way to beat him, given enough time.
"Do your worst, Villain," she growled, her voice husky with put on anger and very real desire.
It was all he needed. She found herself trapped once more, pushed flat against the wall, his fingers probing beneath her skirt, cupping her ass beneath her panties. God, she was wet. Just a little more and the tips of his fingers would be between her cheeks and then they would travel down between her legs and he would know how much she wanted him. There would be no disguising it. She moaned softly against his lips, opening herself up for his kiss, as he ravaged her mouth with his tongue while her own tongue responded in kind.
Fuck me." She told him, beyond the point of reasoning, her baser needs pushing aside her common sense, thoughtless for any thing beyond her quickly building lust. "Do it."
"Beg me," he replied, giving her a chance to breathe as he broke their kiss. His kiss, really. She had little say in the matter. "I want to hear the all powerful Supergirl begging for it." He tightened his grip in her hair for emphasis, his index fingers lazily snaking down the crease of her ass, closer and closer to her wet and willing crevice.
"Please, Fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before." So violent was her outburst that she actually surprised herself, one hand flying up to her mouth as if to push the words back in. She began to giggle, feeling a little light headed. She wondered if maybe they should take a step back. Maybe have another drink and sit on the couch and make out.
He must have seen in her eyes. Cupping her chin in one hand, he lifted her face to his, this time kissing her gently, almost tenderly. "Sorry, Kara. I guess I got a little carried away. We both did. Tell you what. You want that drink now? Maybe we can go sit on the couch and just hang out for a while like earlier. Would you like that?"
Amy nodded mutely, somewhat disappointed. After all, she really had wanted him to take her there, against her will. Not that it would have been without her consent. She sighed. The moment was over and she wondered if she’d just ruined it.
He kissed her forehead gently, stepping back so that she could slip out from between him and the wall, straightening her skirt and tugging it back into place. Glancing at him, she saw that his attention was on her chest. Embarrassed, she realized that her nipples were poking out like small pebbles against the material of her costume. And, on top of that, she was sure the if she dared lift her skirt the front panel of her panties would be soaked so thoroughly as to be practically transparent.
"Turn around?" It was a question rather then a demand, but he complied immediately, giving her a chance to adjust her underwear and check that she was decent. Or at least presentable. Without another word said, they exited the ‘treasure room’, shut off the lights, and locked the door behind them.
He seated her in the love seat in the living room and disappeared for a few moments, returning with a matched set of glasses with, presumably, a mixture of rum and coke. She didn’t even wait for him to sit, taking a small gulp to help her relax again. She was so keyed up with sexual tension as well as being somewhat nervous about what had almost happened in his display room, that her hand was shaking a little as she drank. He smiled at her, seemingly relaxed, and that helped as well.
He had a nice smile even if it was a little weird to see it on a face the color of new grass. She noted that his lips and the area around it were a little worse for wear and chuckled at that as a quick realization hit her. "My lips are green, aren’t they?" she commented, and he nodded, looking amused. Another thought struck her and she was suddenly glad that he had chosen green gloves rather then the alternative, otherwise she would be green in other places too. That brought on a blush and she took another drink, unwilling to meet his eyes.
He took one of his own, then grabbed a tissue and leaned towards her. "Hold still," he commanded, and she obeyed, letting him wipe her lips clean, holding up the tissue to show her the streaks of green that had marred her face.
"There.
As beautiful as before, Kara."
Amy blushed, secretly pleased not only at the compliment, but that he insisted on letting her remain in her role. Enough so that despite her curiosity she wished to remain ignorant of his true name. After all, superheroes and villains should keep their true identities secret. It was the rules of the game and sacred in it’s way. Besides, this way she could excuse her earlier behavior. It was just a game, after all. Just for fun.
She wanted him to kiss her. Already she was regretting that they hadn’t finished what they had started earlier. Wondering if she had made a mistake breaking character like that, she sipped at her drink, slowly letting Brainiac draw her into small talk again. Nothing too personal. She liked the fact that he left out all the usual banter, like his job and such, and when he did refer to it, it was in character. He’d refer to things like his home planet or his past failures at defeating Superman with a sly smile and a bit of a wink that drew her in. Soon she found herself searching through her own memories and doing the same, mentioning things like her rivalry with Power Girl, or her time spent with the Teen Titans. Just little details like that to keep her thinking in character. It was fun and time just sped by. She didn’t even notice when he refilled her drink.
So she was a little drunk. It was a pleasant feeling, after all. And it made it easier to do things she had never dared to do. Like flirting. Not what she would have considered flirting in the past, like smiling that certain way while brushing her hair back behind on ear or giggling softly while she brushed shoulders with him. Oh, she did all that, but as she got bolder, she threw away her caution, still thinking of that moment in his ‘hidden vault’.
After a while it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world to lean back against the arm rest and put her legs up upon his thighs, resting the heels of her boots upon the other arm of the chair. This time, she didn’t worry so much about her skirt sitting properly under her ass and certainly not about how high the hem rode up upon her thighs. She did blush a little at how wet she was and the way her damp panties clung to her lips, noticing the way his eyes were drawn from time to time, sure that he could catch glimpses beneath her short skirt. She gave a mental shrug, remembering the feel of his hand as his finger moved inexorably towards her cunt. The time to be bashful had certainly come and gone.
The conversation lulled, suddenly, a silence that stretched uncomfortably long as he leaned back, a menacing smile playing upon his face, his eyes almost glittering as they slid from the dents her nipples made in her top to her thighs and, quite obviously, beyond.
"I think I may have discovered you weakness, Kara." His evil laughter was actually quite convincing, and a shiver ran down her spine. It felt strangely pleasant, and she smiled, arching an eyebrow his way.
"Have you now? And what do you plan on doing about it, villain?"
"Your belt, please." It was the voice that she had come to recognize as his ‘command’ voice, the one he would use when using his formidable mental powers.
Without a pause, she set her now empty glass on the floor and unbuckled the bright yellow belt that held her skirt up. Lifting her hips, she slid it out of the belt loops and, at his prompting, handed it to him. He nodded, obviously pleased and wonderful tingle of anticipation spread between her thighs. Maybe it hadn’t been such a mistake to slow down. This was just as nice. Then she had thought that they might make out on the couch. Now… well, she just knew that it would not end there. Her breath quickened at the thought, eager for what was to come.
He, however, seemed to be willing to take his time about it. In a way it was frustrating as he teased her, drawing out the seduction. It was obvious by now that he could have her anytime he wanted, that she was more then willing. Maybe that was what made it so sexy, so much of a turn on. She noticed that her breathing became eratic, too fast, too shallow, making her a little light headed. She wanted him. This time she wasn’t going to pass up on the chance to have sex. Just to make sure, she moved her feet apart, moving so that her right thigh pressed lightly against his stomach. She set her left foot upon the carpeted floor, leaving her underwear easily seen as well as accessible.
He smiled at her, looking smug, her belt still in one hand. "Lift your skirt. I command you."
She was Supergirl. Not Amy. She fought against the need to do as he had ordered her, but he had already sapped her powers. She was helpless to resist. Slowly, she took the hem of her skirt in hand and lifted it, revealing her thigh an inch at a time until she was fully exposed to him. Her breathe caught in her throat as lay his right hand upon her right knee and pushed it further away from him. She glanced down, seeing exactly what she had expected to see. The front of her panties, so damp that she could practically see through them. There would be little doubt now of her readiness. She looked back up, surprised to find that his eyes weren’t where she expected them to be. Instead, he watched her face and somehow, that embarrassed her more. What must he be thinking? She wondered. Disconcertingly, he seemed to read her mind again.
"You are the sexiest girl I have ever met, Kara Zor-el. I see why they call you Supergirl."
Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded, ready for what came next. There was no turning back now.
"Pull your top up."
She did as instructed, taking hold of the material around her chest and rolling it up gently, and tugging it up over her breasts, exposing them, all the while watching his face. This time he drew his eyes away from hers, admiring her breasts as they came into sight, licking his lips slowly as if in anticipation.
"So hot," be breathed, and she felt both pleased and excited, releasing her top so that it crossed the tops of her perky, rounded breasts, the blue in contrast to her skin. Looking down, she had to agree with him. The sight of her thighs spread open on his lap while her breasts were on view was very sexy. As an after thought, she arched her back slightly, pushing them forward with a tentative smile.
"Good girl." His praise felt good. No one had ever treated her in this way before, and she was discovering that she liked it. It felt… well, there was really no word for the way that it felt. Her pulse was hammering through her and she found herself shaking as if she hadn’t eaten all day and was about to crash. The intensity of her rising need was frightening as a shaky whimper escaped her.
"What do you want?" he asked, his narrowed eyes boring into hers, locking her gaze upon his face, the beginnings of a smirk upon his lips.
Blinking, she stared at him, not quite comprehending the question. What did she want? She wanted him to take her right there on the love seat. Hard and fast, at least the first time. And she wanted there to be a second time too. Her confusion must have shown on her face. He chuckled, his hand squeezing her knee gently.
"I need to hear it from your mouth, Supergirl. Now, tell me. What. Do. You. Want?" This time, his words were crisp and concise, each one hanging between them for seconds before followed by the next.
Shyly, she turned her face to one side, looking away from him, only to find his hand beneath her chin, his thumb and fingers against her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. "Don’t you dare turn away without my permission."
She did her best to nod, and he let her go, but the feel of touch was still upon her face. It hadn’t been painful, but she wondered if that was only because of all the alcohol she had consumed.
"I want you to make love to me." She admitted, a tentative smile on her face, her cheeks feeling warm.
"Make love? Is that what you want?"
Shaking her head slowly back and forth, she tried again, knowing what he wanted to hear, licking her lips nervously, the alcohol in her system boosting her courage. "I…I want you to fuck me, Brainiac. Fuck me until I scream and make me cum over and over. Fuck me hard until I can’t take it anymore."
He smiled, once again a menacing smile "That’s my girl. Oh, and yes, you will get your fucking. But not yet. This is not about you, Supergirl. This is all about me. Understood?"
Not knowing what else to do, Amy nodded, wondering what was to come knowing that, whatever it was, as long as he would make her cum, she was willing. There was no longer a choice for her. She was too far gone for this not to end up with an orgasm. They both knew that ultimately, he held too much power over for her to stop and that she liked the feeling. Eyes wide, she watched him watching her, unsure of what she’d gotten herself into, unable or, perhaps unwilling, to put a stop to it.
He seemed to delight in having her debase herself rather then doing it himself. He had her wet her fingers, sucking them one at a time between her lips, and pulling them slowly out. He made her brush her nipples teasingly at first, before instructing her to twist them gently between thumb and forefinger. She complied, unable to help herself, reminding herself of who he was and the game they were playing. It felt amazing, a tingling shiver running through her exposed breasts as her nipples grew impossibly, almost painfully, hard.
He watched her the entire time, teasing the inside of her thigh gently with the pad of his thumb, stroking along her soft skin until her legs began to quake. He had her lift the hem of her skirt again, seeing as how it had slipped down to cover her partially. This time, he had her run her finger up and down the gap between her sensitive and slightly swollen lips through her cotton panties, leaving it clinging lewdly between. Before long, he had her moaning with desire, directing her to slowly circle her clit with the tips of her fingers, then twisting it gently for him until she lost in her lust.
By then, she didn’t care that he wasn’t fucking her. She wasn’t even sure she was going to make it to that point. Just the thought of having an orgasm, of making herself cum while touching herself like this at while he watched was enough to push her closer and closer to the edge.
"Please… I can’t," she tried, trying to get him to understand, but he simply pressed one finger to her lips, and shook his head and she gave in. He stopped, or rather told her to stop just as she was about to climax. In fact, he had had to grab her by the wrist in order to halt her from bringing herself off. She looked at him pleadingly as he pushed her hand away.
"I don’t want to get rough with you, Supergirl. Do as I say and stop when I say ‘stop’, or you will regret it. Now, I want to see your cunt. Take off your panties."
She had no choice. She was too lost, both in the role and in her desire, and he had complete control over her. She reached down and hooked her thumbs in her waist band and tugged them down to her thighs, lifting her hips in the process, a ragged whimper forcing its way between parted lips that made him chuckle.
"Poor thing," he teased. "Can’t get what she needs. Here, let me help you with those." Directing her to put her left leg upon his thigh, he tugged her panties over her boots and completely off, holding them to his nose and inhaling deeply.
"You smell like slut, Kara. Did you know that? Super Slut is what you should have called yourself. Here, see for yourself."
He pressed her panties under her nose and she inhaled her own musk. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it might be. Pleasant in a way. She waited for him to take them away, but he wasn’t done yet.
"Open wide."
She looked up at him, eyes questioning. What she saw in his expression made her slowly part her lips wide while he gently pushed her panties between them, filling her mouth with the scent and taste of her own juices. She never tasted herself before, nor had she been with another woman. There was a moment when she thought she might gag, but then it passed. He praised her, not with words, but with actions, directing her to put her foot back to the floor while he continued to stroke her thigh, his finger brushing the bottom of her cunt on the up stroke, making her shudder with desire each and every time.
"Does that feel good, my little Super Slut?" he asked, his voice silky and smooth.
He knew it did. How could he not? Still, she felt compelled to answer him hypnotically. Her mouth full, she nodded several times in response, and adding a muffled whimper as way of an exclamation at the end.
How long he teased her like that for, she had no idea. He’d stroke the inside of her thighs and brush her sex while telling her to fondle her own breasts, until she could feel a puddle of her own juices forming beneath her. Each time he brought her to the brink, he’d stop, feeling her quivering under his hand, sternly warning her against cumming until he gave her his permission. She’d never even imagined someone working her like this. She hated it and, at the same time, she loved it. After a while, though, it grew maddening. She wanted more. She wanted to kiss him, to have him hold her, to feel him pressed up against her, wanted him inside of her, filling her cunt as he thrust his cock deep inside of her over and over. She reached up to pull her underwear from her mouth, having long ago tired of the feeling, only to find her wrists suddenly trapped, one in each of his hands. He held her like that for a moment, his fingers as strong as iron, then slowly forced her hands down together.
"Don’t move. I want you to keep them just like that, understand?"
She nodded, unable to speak, a little curious as to what he had planned. Taking her belt, he began to wrap it around her wrists and forearms, taking a moment to thread it between them as well in a figure eight. When he was just about out of belt, he took the loose end and buckled it so that if effectively held her wrists tightly together.
"There. Let that be a warning to you. Next time I won’t be so nice."
She stared at him, suddenly a little apprehensive. She’d never had anyone do this to her before. Oh, she wasn’t clueless. She knew all about bondage. That didn’t mean she’d ever tried it, though, and she certainly didn’t want him taking it any further. Just think of it in terms of the comics, their game, she reminded herself. He had captured her and had to make sure she couldn’t break free. Of course he would use her own belt against her. After all, it was made of otherworldly material, strong enough to prevent her from breaking free. It all made sense, if she looked at it like that.
Besides, it was hard to worry overly much when he was still stroking between her legs, this time letting his fingers trail up over her parted lips, dipping the tip of his index finger between them and then caressing her clit in a way that was more then merely pleasurable. He built her up to a climax again, smiling at the way she was holding her thighs apart for him, no longer shy about exposing her naked cunt. Her back was arched and her bound forearms were pressed tightly between her heaving breasts, softly begging him to let her come, here words made unintelligible by her gag.
Reaching over with his free left hand, he pulled her drool soaked panties from her mouth, laughing mockingly as twin trails of spittle ran from either corner of her mouth, his eyes boring into hers.
"Someone wants to come very badly." He commented.
Barely able to speak, she nodded quickly, whimpering as the tormented her clit once more. "Please? I…I want you inside of me." She managed, more of a squeak then anything else.
"You do, do you? Do you really? Or do you just want to cum? Because I think that all you really care about is getting off, my poor little Super Slut. Tell me to the truth. Do you want me to fuck you or do you just want to cum?." As he asked, he slipped two fingers inside of her. She was so slick that they entered her easily. Once inside, he began pushing them slowly in and out, his thumb circling her clit just as slowly.
"Say it for me, Kara. Tell me that you want to cum. Tell me that you’ll do anything I tell you to do, as long as I let you cum. Say it." The last two words were like iron. He was using the voice again, only this time he was putting all of his power behind it. She couldn’t have resisted even if she’d wanted to.
"Please, please, make me cum. I’ll do anything you tell me to, anything at all as long as you let me cum." She begged, beyond caring how desperate she sounded.
He smiled, pulling out his fingers, holding them before her so, glistening as her juice slowly ran down the backs of his hands, their scent filling her nostrils. He held her gaze with his as he turned his hand slowly, resting his fingertips upon her lips. Almost against her will, she opened her mouth invitingly, feeling his cum slick fingers slide over her tongue, filling her mouth, never once taking her eyes off of his face, knowing what he wanted without being told. Closing her mouth around his fingers as he withdrew them just as slowly, she swallowed, and was rewarded by a warm smile.
"Good girl. Now, stay there. I’ll be right back."
Amy whimpered. Actually, it was Kara who whimpered as he swung her legs off of his lap and sat her up on the love seat, her entire being centered on one thing, and one thing only, that which he was denying her.
"I don’t want you to move, Understand me? Stay exactly like that until I return or I’ll put you back in my car and drive you home. Got it?"
His voice took on a hardness, one that frightened her a little, and she blinked, nodding. This was her chance, if she wanted it. All she had to do was to disobey him and he’d take her home. She could go to bed, finish herself off, and then go to sleep and no one would be the wiser. She could. She had the choice. It would be the smart thing to do.
When he returned, she was sitting there exactly like he had left her, looking up at him with a bashful smile on her face, her eyes full of confused hope. Chuckling, she patted her on the head.
"Good girl. I knew you had it in you. Now, you are to do exactly as I tell you. No balking, no questions. Behave yourself and I promise, I will let you cum."
He’d come back with a digital camera. A nice one, by the looks of it, not that she had any real knowledge of on the subject.
"Pose for me, Kara."
Had she been less drunk or perhaps less in need of release, she might have said no. She knew better. She even told herself that at the time. It didn’t matter. He had promised her relief and that was all she could think about. The price didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except experiencing relief. Tucked away in her thoughts was the knowledge that he had to play by the rules. No matter how he might tease her, he had promised her and she had faith that he would give her what she needed.
"I said pose, slut!"
He used the tone that brooked no argument, and she did, doing exactly what he told her to do, letting him take picture after picture of her in lurid poses. Legs spread, back arched, arms tied, untied, her hands between her thighs spreading her lips apart while wanting so badly to finger herself to orgasm. Each pose made her feel sexier and fueled her need even more, if that was possible.
"Not yet, Kara, not yet. Just a few more shots."
She wasn’t sure how long ‘the session’ lasted, but she was certain that he must have taken close to a hundred pictures of her as Supergirl in compromising positions. He’d made sure of getting her face in many of them, reassuring her that they were all just for his own private enjoyment and that, in the morning, if she regretted her decision, he would delete them all. And she believed him, forgetting who he was. Super Villains, after all, made a career of deceit. She should have known better.
When he finally announced that he was done, she looked at him from her position on the sofa, laying on her back, her legs upright and spread against the rear cushion, her head and hair spilling over the edge as she cupped her bared breasts.
"Now? Please?" She no longer cared about dignity or appearances. He’d stopped the shoot more then once to bring her back up to a level of arousal that drove all other thoughts from her head and all she could think about was and end to this. A wonderful, mind blowing end filled with one orgasm after another until she couldn’t stand it anymore, if that ever happened.
Brianiac smiled, looking down at her, and shook his head slowly from side to side. "No. Not now. I said you could cum for me. I didn’t say when."
She lay there staring at him in disbelief. He had promised her. The lying bastard! Fuck him. She would just take care of herself then. She didn’t care anymore. Taking matters into her own hands, she pushed a pair of fingers into her sopping cunt while she took care of her clit with her other hand. It didn’t take long for her to cum, crying out loudly, hardly even noticing that he was filming the whole event on his camera. It wasn’t enough. She barely even paused, hardly satisfied and worked herself up slowly to another orgasm, this one also filmed.
Finally, she was done, collapsing on her side, the combination of drink, the lateness of the night, and two huge climaxes draining her. Smiling, he knelt at her side, kissing her tenderly and arranging her limbs so that she would be comfortable, then he brought in a quilt and covered her, tucking her in.
"Good night, Supergirl. Sweetest of dreams." Kissing her again, this time softly on the lips, her breathing indicating that she was already asleep, he left her, taking his camera with him to his bedroom and downloading everything onto his hard drive.
She awoke the next morning, feeling tired and somewhat hung over, sunlight from between the blind slats striking her face. Moaning softly she pulled the quilt over her head and lay still, slowly recalling the events from the night before. Oh, god, had it all really happened? She lifted the quilt, taking note of the fact that she still wore her costume, everything but her panties, and that her top was pulled all the way up to expose her breasts to the world. Or, in her case, to Brainiac and his camera. That thought woke her up quickly enough. Sitting up with heartfelt groan as her headache made itself definitely known, she hugged her covers to her, looking about the room. He was no where to be seen. Nor was the camera.
She stood got up and did a quick search of the sofa and then the room, looking for her missing panties and not having any success. So intent, she missed his entrance. Finally, she sensed his presence, and turned to find him leaning in the door frame, obviously admiring her body. Blushing, she realized that she hadn’t bothered to pull her top down and hastened to do so. She face him, refusing to me embarrassed or intimidating.
"I want those picture deleted."
It was a simple request, and it was granted a simple answer. "Of course."
Brainiac stepped into the room. Actually, it was difficult to think of him as Brainiac without his make-up and costume. This morning, he was dressed in a pair of expensive looking gray trousers, and a sharply pressed dress shirt open at the throat. Gold cuff links adorned it. In one hand, he held a camera. Pulling her cape around her, until it covered her belly and thighs, conscious of the fact that she was naked under her skirt, an item that barely covered her, she met him half way. He was handsome in his way. More then handsome. Well built, his dark eyes staring at her from a chiseled face that belonged to a movie star. His head was shaved bald. She wondered if that was to stay in character for his costume or if it was something that he did regularly. Either way, it looked good on him. Very good. She held back a sigh, not sure what how she should feel about what had happened.
"Here you go."
Holding the camera out, he let her watch while he deleted all the photos he had taken the night before, letting her check and double check before setting it down on the coffee table. Afterwards, he offered her breakfast, but by then, all she wanted to do was to go home and sleep off the rest of her hangover. He was reluctant, but good-naturedly agreed to drive her back to her car. Half an hour later, conscious the entire time of keeping her skirt tugged down as far as she could, she bid him a curt goodbye. She collected her keys and wallet from Kevin who stopped teasing her about where she had been soon after she told him to mind his own business, and drove herself home and was soon asleep beneath the covers.