Supergirl: Prison Hostage

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DrDominator9
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SUPERGIRL: PRISON HOSTAGE

This story was a collaboration effort with a woman reader who liked my SG Mob story and wanted to work on an Supergirl story with me, each of us writing our own segments and the other writer having to use the action and situations and following up with his or her own spin on things. I hope you enjoy it. The first segment was written by my friend, Silver Streak.


Silver Streak - 1st Installment

Kara Zor-El, better known as Supergirl, received a distress call from the warden at Riker’s Island Federal Prison. A group of convicts had seized control of the prison laundry and had taken a guard hostage. The convicts were complaining of poor treatment by the prison management. They had threatened to kill the guard unless Superman came to hear their side of the story. With Superman on a mission in deep space, the call came to Supergirl instead.

“So much for my quiet evening at home,” thought Supergirl. She removed her Linda Danvers street clothes and took her uniform from its secret hiding place in her apartment. She stepped into her blue underpants and short red skirt. She pulled on her red boots. She fastened her bra strap, then slipped the tight fitting tunic over her head and tucked it into the skirt. With the addition of her cape, the transformation was complete. Linda Danvers was now Supergirl, the Maid of Might, the Girl of Steel.

She was also a knockout, with shiny blond hair and pretty blue eyes. The tight-fitting uniform left little to the imagination. Her 18-year-old body had the fullness of womanhood, combined with the tone and smoothness of a teenager. Her long legs and bouncy boobs turned men’s heads wherever she went.

Flying into the night sky, she soon reached supersonic speed. In minutes she arrived at the prison gates. She and the warden agreed on a plan – she would meet with the convicts, hear their demands and free the guard. The warden led her to the laundry facility.

“You have a visitor,” shouted the warden through the laundry room bars. “Supergirl has come to speak with you.”

The leader of the prison gang looked confused. “SuperGIRL?,” he yelled. “We asked for SuperMAN.”

“Well, you’re just gonna have to make do,” said the warden. In a few seconds, the bars slid back. Supergirl entered the laundry.

“I want to see the guard,” said Kara. “We need to be sure he’s okay.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” said the ringleader, “he’s in the next room, through that door.”

Supergirl strode confidently through the heavy door. The convict followed her, shutting the door behind him. They were now out of sight of the warden.

Without warning, a net fell from the ceiling, enveloping the Girl of Steel. Instantly, she collapsed to her knees. She was weak as a kitten.

“Gold … Kryp … Kryptonite,” Supergirl said softly. “So weak … can’t even … hold my head up.”

“Very astute, Supergirl,” said the ringleader. “We’d planned this little trap for Superman, but I guess you’ll do just as well. You’re a much more valuable hostage than any guard.”

With the toe of his boot, the convict pushed Supergirl until she lay flat on her back. “If our calculations are correct,” he said, “then in five minutes all of your powers will be permanently gone. Let’s wait and see, shall we?”

Supergirl lay tangled in the Gold Kryptonite net, unable to move a muscle. The ringleader was right – in a few minutes, her powers would be gone, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The warden and his guards were on the other side of the door only a few feet away, but she lacked the strength to cry out to them. It couldn’t possibly end this way, she thought. Not after all I’ve been through. Tears welled up in her eyes.

The ringleader and his gang of thugs waited until the five minutes had passed. Then one of them came forward. “Now we’ll find out if she’s still Supergirl, or just a girl,” he said. He pulled the net off of Kara and set it aside. Reaching under her arms, he pulled the limp heroine off the ground and dragged her onto a nearby table. Her legs dangled off the table edge.

The thug lifted one of Kara’s calves, then dug the knuckles of one hand into the soft, creamy flesh of Kara’s inner thigh. Tears fell down her cheeks, but she wouldn’t give the men the satisfaction of screaming. The convicts watched gleefully as a bruise formed on Supergirl’s once invulnerable thigh.

“See, it worked!,” cried the ringleader. “Her powers are gone – she is just an ordinary girl!”

Another large man wearing a blue kerchief wrapped around his bald head came forward. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “I have my own test.” He stood in front of the helpless Supergirl with hate in his eyes. Then he reached forward, and pulled up her skirt. The other men cheered, “Go Deke!” He then locked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, and pulled them down her long legs and over her boots. The sight of Kara’s hairless genitalia provoked more cheers and whistles from the crowd. Supergirl closed her eyes in humiliation.

“Now we’ll find out if she’s lost her powers,” said Deke. “She may be playing possum with us, but there are some things I’m betting Supergirl wouldn’t let us do if she had the power to stop us. Jack, Tom – hold her wrists. Bob, Mack – get her ankles.”

Supergirl had an idea what was coming next and she tried to fight back, but the squirming and wriggling of a teenage girl was no match for a roomful of convicts. The burly Deke stood between her outstretched legs. While maintaining eye contact with the Maid of Might, he did the unthinkable – poking his index finger into her labia as far as it would go. Supergirl sobbed at the violation and the pain. To the first finger, the thug added another and then another. The Girl of Steel screamed like a wounded animal as the man roughly violated the most intimate part of her young body.

Finally, he withdrew his fingers and slowly licked them. “Well, Mack, I guess you’re right,” Deke said grinning. “It looks like the girl has lost her powers. And you know – I’m kinda glad she came instead of Superman.” The other men laughed.

Mack, the ringleader, was more serious. “Don’t forget our plan. We need to know Superman’s secret identity. That way we’ll have some insurance against him. Before we have our fun, we’ve got to get this girl here to tell us who he is.”

“I’ll never tell you,” sobbed Supergirl. “You’re crazy if you think I’ll reveal Superman’s secrets.”

“Oh, you’ll tell us, all right,” said Mack. “Guys, lift her up and bend her over.” The men got Supergirl to her feet. They pulled her tunic up and over her head, then held her arms outstretched to her sides. They twisted her wrists until she was forced to bend at the waist. Her lovely boobs dangled from her chest and swayed.

“What are you, a 38 double C?” asked the hardened con. Supergirl turned red but remained silent. Seeing that he wasn’t going to get an answer, he went on. “You don’t have to tell me. I know such things. That’s about as nice a rack as I’ve ever seen. Did you know that a woman’s breasts are the most sensitive parts of her body?” Supergirl choked involuntarily. “Well, they are.”

Mack reached down and produced a baseball bat. “I’ll bet you’ve never felt much pain, have you,” he said, smiling. “You’ve always been invulnerable … until now.”

End of Segment # 1
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Silver
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Awesome start!
Bronson881
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Very good start.
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Richpartist
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Excellent :)
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Abductorenmadrid
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A cool "route 1" start - straight to the de-powering and torment! Bwahhaahaah!!
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flirty_but_nice
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I hate to be a Debbie downer, buuuuuuut ...

Where would prisoners in a high security prison obtain this gold kryptonite? They had such a run of the prison that they can easily rig up the trap of the kryptonite net?

For my liking, the depowering was just way too easy. No adequate build up to the peril for my taste. Hey, though, this is just my preferences. Not to say that others might not really enjoy the story.

The main thing is, though, that you are writing and giving it your best effort, so in that regard, keep going for it!

:)
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Jenn (aka Flirty)
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Eh, maybe this takes place in the Silver Age, where you could find a chunk of Kryptonite under every other couch in Metropolis.
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First off, I want to thank everybody for their responses to this story. It's great to be getting feedback for me and my collaborator Silver Streak. I and she both appreciate it greatly.

Flirty, as for your comment about the gold kryptonite net, I have to agree that it wouldn't have been how I'd have handled it either. It's one of the rarest minerals in the universe compared to green k which as Omega Woman aptly points out, seems to be available in the discount bins at Walmart. The concept of not only getting the gold k but somehow being able to convert it into a net of the stuff is pretty unlikely. I suppose I could have edited Silver Streak's segment to give a bit of reasoning how this could even occur but I didn't want to cloud things up between us authors and felt it was better to show the distinctive strengths and weaknesses of each author in their own light. As the segments go on, you'll find that Silver Streak has a gutsy approach to peril and humiliation that is captivating. And that I am my usual long-winded overly detailed self.

In any case, I hope everyone sticks with the story and enjoys the ride.

Thanks again for your comments past, present and future. --- Dr. D.
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JohnFeer
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yeah but once she is depowered for good its just another prison orgy story....no offense.


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Guess you'll have to wait to see where it goes from here, JohnFeer. Hopefully you won't think so when the next segment is posted.
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Dr D’s - 1st Installment

Where once the blonde beauty could take a car collision straight on and come out none the worse for wear from it, now the very idea of having a baseball bat smashed against her body set Kara's eyes to welling up even before a single blow had landed. The pinch had put her on notice and the invasive, humiliating finger play had demonstrated all too clearly the horrific danger of her situation. The gold kryptonite had robbed her of everything. She was helpless in the hold of rabid animals. All she had were her wits.

“Wait! Stop!” Her desperate whining plea scorched the ears of those assembled. “B...b..before you sw...swing that thing, whuh....what do you want?” She tried to focus her heat vision on the shoes of one of the men holding her bent over. No spark there. Nothing. She can't see through the nylon sneaker to his toes. She can’t hear the beats of the hearts of the cruel men pinning her in place. She gulps back a sob. All her powers were completely gone now. There would be no way out of this.

“You already know exactly what we want,” said Mack. The tall man had a muscled torso covered in gang tattoos. He was wearing brown slacks and a denim shirt with the sleeves ripped off. He passed the bat to a wiry con next to him, gripped the blonde’s jaw and turned her head to force her to look into his eyes; the color of seething brown mud. “We want Superman’s secret identity. What’s he called in when he’s not blowing out fires and rerouting rivers? What’s that name?”

“I can’t...I just can’t tell you that,” Kara said, stalling, trying to plan, playing the hero. Trying anything. “Is there something else you need to kn....AAARRWWWGGHHHH!”

Without warning, the bat held by a wiry, sneering accomplice swung up from underneath her, slamming into her chest with a brutally hard thump. It buried into her breasts like a wood rolling pin into soft dough and Supergirl’s eyes bulged with the agony of it. She’d never felt such pain before in her life. It rolled through her in waves and her knees collapsed forward. Sagging in the hold of two burly prisoners with bad breath and powerful hands, the devastated heroine could not think of anything but the pain. And when the fat of the bat struck her coccyx bone in a brutal downward chop, Supergirl screamed for just an instant before puking all over her shiny red boots and her panties lying on the floor between them.

“No, I guess you’re not used to pain, blondie. Want another one laid on that sweet tailbone of yours?”

“NO! RAO, NO! PLEASE...DON’T! DON’T!”

“What’s your cousin’s name then, Supergirl? Spill it.”

“Y...y...you’ll k...k..kill him!”

“We’ll kill you if you don’t tell.”

“I...i....don’t...muh..muh...matter.... he’s th...the...important one....”

“Tell that to your shins, bitch.”

The crack of the bat against her lower right leg, dropped Supergirl’s jaw in a silent scream that began to gain volume before one of the men clamped his fat sweaty hand over half her lower face. He muffled the scream and then got a palm full of heroine snot for his troubles. The second shot, this to her left shin jerked her body and the famous heroine squeals loudly into the paw covering her lower face. Above the big hand, Supergirl’s eyes show mostly white with just the lower edge of blue irises under the heavy lids.

“Let’s get her back onto that table,” said Mack, his eyes gleaming. “I want to see how far up her ass I can shove this here bat,” he says, taking it back from the wiry con who’d helped reduce the famous Maid of Steel to a weeping, snot-dripped teenager.

A muffled groan from behind the fat hand is all that’s heard as the group dragged the beaten girl the five feet over to the table. They laid her face down on it and while two of the prisoners continued to hold her arms, it was merely precautionary. The arms dangled limply off the sides of the table. Supergirl’s legs dangled off the same two sides of the table as her arms, leaving her shapely naked butt cheeks easily accessible. The wiry thug handed the bat to Mack when he held out his open hand for it.

“Okay, girl hero, let’s see how much you really love your cousin when your ass is fucked by 20 inches of Louisville slugger!”

“..no....don’t....” mumbled the sweaty fouled blonde teenager draped like a rank load of dirty laundry across the table top. “...no... don’t...please...wait..please don’t....” she whispered in tears.. “...you can’t do this...you can’t...i’m...i’m...”

“You’re no one! That’s who you are!” Mack yells out, cutting her off. “Just a girl in a stupid short skirt with no panties and her tits hanging out. A so-called hero who used to have an “S” on her chest that’s about to stand for “Saggy Ass” when she gets the wide end of a baseball bat jammed up her the butt hole in the next three seconds, unless.....Unless you tell me Superman’s secret identity. RIGHT NOW, BITCH!”

“...but...but...”

“Three”

“...the world needs....”

“Two”

“...i...i’m...afraid...”

“One!”

“I...No!! Wait! WAIT!!! Claude. It’s Claude Kelly. Let me go. Let me go. I told you. I told you. You have to let me go.”

“Quit that bawling, bitch. Who the fuck is Claude Kelly? I never heard of him.”

“He’s a....a... fireman. From a small suburb of Metropolis, Claremont Township.”

“Are you on the level, cunt? You better be on the level,” Mack says, waving the bat in a circle over Supergirl’s head. His tats shimmy and flex under the overhead fluorescent fixture.

“How would we know, Mack,” the wiry prisoner named Bob asks the leader. “How can we check this out?”

Tears run down Supergirl’s face as her bare ass hangs in the balance, the bat head now inches from her bottom. She’s given up the name of a very nice fireman she met once. She hoped she can get out to warn him about it before the prisoners come up with a plan. But for now Clark was safe. Which was more than she could say for herself.

Suddenly a voice called out from the other side of the wall. “Hey, Mack!” The warden shouted through the thick door from five yards away. “What’s going on in there, McMasters? Have you come to an agreement with Supergirl?”
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Hope the bat fits!!!! I am loving it!
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Silver Streak - 2nd Installment


Mack is jolted to attention by the sound of the warden’s voice. But he quickly sees an opportunity to advance his plan.

He clamps his rough paw over Supergirl’s lips before she can call out. Then he motions to Deke and Tom to help him flip the Girl of Steel over on the table. Thanks to the Gold K treatment, the heroine’s voluptuous body is dead weight. She lands on her back with a thud, her bare breasts jiggling on her chest.

“We have another demand, warden,” Mack responds in a shout. “Supergirl will tell you it’s okay.”

Mack keeps one hand clamped over Supergirl’s mouth. With the other, he reaches into his pocket and produces a switchblade. In a flash, he’s got the knife open and positioned it inches from the 18-year-old’s genitalia.

“Okay, Supergirl, now it’s your turn,” Mack whispers to his captive. “I want you to tell the warden to comply with whatever we demand. Because if you don’t do that, I’m gonna slice off your clitoris right here and now. And when I do, it will be permanent. Do you understand me?”

The beautiful teenager’s vision blurs as her blue eyes suddenly fill with tears. She can feel the cold steel pressing against her precious nub, which has become fully erect. Her heart is pounding and her ears are ringing. Mack’s casual handling of her most intimate sexual organ sends little jolts of electricity through her hips and thighs. She tries to imagine living the rest of her life unable to experience sexual pleasure. No more foreplay in the backseat of her boyfriend’s car. No more quiet moments in the bath, pleasuring herself. She begins sobbing, and in moments is wracked with convulsions. Her breath is coming in gasps now.

Mack grins at her. “Do we have an understanding?”

Supergirl nods vigorously. Mack removes his hand from her mouth, but keeps the blade pressed hard against the girl’s engorged nub.

“Well, Supergirl, is that right?” yells the warden outside the door.

Kara tries to answer him, but she can’t catch her breath. Her diaphragm is in spasm. She can’t speak!

“You’d better answer him, sweetheart,” whispers Mack through gritted teeth. He presses the blade more firmly against the tiny organ. Supergirl knows she has only a few seconds to save her clitoris.

Summoning all of her will, Supergirl gathers enough strength to muster a short reply. “Yes, warden ... gasp ... give them what they ask.” The exertion has left her panting. She prays she said enough to save herself, because she isn’t strong enough to make a second attempt.

“All right, then,” says the warden. “What do you want, Mack?”

Mack once again clamps his hand over Supergirl’s lips and flashes her a big smile. “Warden, we want you to bring us Claude Kelly,” says Mack. Supergirl struggles to break free, to call out, but she is too weak and Deke is too strong. “He’s a fireman in Metropolis,” says Mack. “We won’t hurt him. We just want to talk to him.”

“Very well,” replies the warden. “I’ll have him here within the hour.”

Supergirl gazes up at Mack in horror. She can’t believe she has put poor Claude’s life in danger. Sweat pours from her forehead into her eyes, blinding her. She must call out, even if it means unspeakable torture for her.

But Mack is way ahead of her. He summons Mack to bring him the rest of Kara’s outfit. He shoves the teenager’s panties into her mouth, gagging her. He puts her top around her head like a hood. And he wraps her bra strap around her neck, securing the top to her head. In seconds, Supergirl has been rendered mute and blind.

Forty-five minutes later, as promised, the warden knocks on the door. “Mr. Kelly is here to see you. I’m sending him in now.”
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Uh-oh, this nightmare is snowballing fast, best figure out a plan soon SG before it's too late!
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Dr. Dominator - 2nd Installment

The man who walked into the prison’s laundry room where the group of desperate prisoners huddled around a pinned and helpless Supergirl was tall, dark and handsome. Claude Kelly had neatly-combed black hair, piercing blue eyes and stood well over six-feet.

He was wearing black slacks and a pale yellow dress shirt under a navy blue sweatshirt emblazoned with the Claremont Township Fire Department logo. It was clear why the brave public servant must have made such an impression on Supergirl. He was a dead ringer for her cousin and he was a hunk, a very confused hunk.

“What’s going on here? Why did the warden have me hustled up here on my day off?” The man’s tone was wary but calm. With eight years of experience fighting fires, he was cool under pressure.

“We’ll ask the questions, champ,” Mack says, stepping aside and revealing a topless wide-eyed blonde in a short red skirt and red boots held down to a table by four prisoners. A blue tunic was wrapped around her neck with a the hint of a red and yellow emblem peeking out of the rolled blue material. Her mouth was stuffed with red fabric which he guessed were her panties because her skirt was bunched at her hips and a small tuft of blonde bush showed between long, dangling legs.

“Supergirl?” Claude Kelly’s mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed even as he appreciated the magnificent breasts and lithe body of the heroine held helpless before him. The famous Maid of Might had somehow been made a hostage by very dangerous men. If he weren’t seeing this with his own eyes, he’d have never believed it.

“That’s right, Claude. It’s your pretty cousin. Surprise! Now don’t move a muscle, hero. My man Jack here has a very sharp and deadly home-made shiv pressed against your kin’s kidney. And she ain’t got her powers no more, so you make a move and she gets stuck like a pig. Dead before the squeal dies. Got me?”

“I got you,” Claude Kelly nodded, eyeing the blonde with the goatee right at Supergirl’s back. He can’t see the knife but he doesn’t doubt it’s existence. The eyes of the man with the shiv told him not to doubt his willingness to follow the leader’s orders.

Why this man thought Supergirl was his cousin was a mystery to be solved. He looked over the group of five men, all of them well-muscled from prison workout regimes and nothing but time on their hands. The eyes on all of them looked cruel and Claude had no doubt they would kill the young blonde without a moment’s hesitation.

“Good. Smart man. Now I want you to kneel down right where you are. Palms on the floor. Tom here is going to cover you with a net to keep you from trying anything stupid,” Mack declared. The wiry man picked up a yellowish clump of netting from the floor and started around the table. Claude didn’t move right away and this angered the con’s leader. “Down on your knees, like I told you, big man! Now! Or your cousin gets shish kabobbed before your eyes.”

“Wait, don’t!” Claude held out his hand, palm up and got down on one knee. “I’m doing it. Be calm. You’re getting everything you want.” He went down on both knees and Tom walked over to him. Supergirl’s eyes met his and she mouthed the words “I’m so sorry” to him. He nodded slightly in return. The girl had saved his life during a fire, catching him when he fell off a parapet of a high-rise that had crumbled beneath him unexpectedly. He was 15 floors into his fall off the 30-story building when she came out of nowhere and caught him in her arms like he was no heavier than a baby. He owed her his life but he wasn’t sure how he would repay the debt with such odds stacked against him, against both of them.

Her cousin? Obviously this group thought he was Superman in his secret identity. Why, he had no idea. Had she told them that? There was no other explanation. She must have needed a name and his number came up. Piss poor luck, but then again, his life could’ve been forfeit last year. He could’ve been a bloody spatter on the pavement so he was already ahead of the game in his book. He’d have to play along and look for an opening and hope the girl had enough strength to join in any fight he might start. He checked her eyes again just before Tom came up to him with the net. The girl looking back at him seemed beaten and scared. He’d have to lift her spirits somehow.

And suddenly there was a net draped over his kneeling body. It was just heavy enough to impede his movements. Tom stood nearby, just watching with a twisted smile on his face when the man with the tattoos spoke up again. “Just stay there, champ. It won’t be long now. Bob, take that rope and go make sure that the mighty Superman doesn’t hurt himself writhing in torment there. I’m sure Deke and Jack and I can handle a helpless teenage girl.”

Claude faked a groan and wavered in place as the muscular brown-haired Bob walked over next to Tom. “Oh, what is this? What have you done?” He suspected what was going on but wanted confirmation.

“Just a special gold Kryptonite net to suck out all those powers of yours, Superman. Did you think we wouldn’t be prepared for you? How did you think we man-handled your young cousin here into this compromising position? Man, you’re nothing but a big dumb ox, aren’t you?”

“You sick degenerate. You’ll never get away with this.” Claude faked struggling with the net as if he was a helpless five-year old. “My cousin and I will escape somehow and you’ll be spending your days in solitary.”

“Not sure how you’re gonna make that happen when you got no powers left, Stupidman. What a moron! Wait two minutes and then tie him up, guys. He should be easy enough to handle by then.”

He wasn’t Superman but Claude Kelly owned a brown belt in martial arts so with both men standing beside him and lulled into complacency watching him struggle and groan under the net, it wasn’t difficult to do a sudden squat turn and powerful leg sweep that easily cleared under the loose net and knocked both men to the floor. Both of Claude’s hands grabbed the yellow net and hurled it across the distance to where Mack was standing beside the table. The shocked man threw his hands up to ward off the oncoming heavy webbing. That’s when Supergirl suddenly rolled away from the shiv pointed into her back and landed on the floor with cat-like grace. The time allowed for Claude Kelly to arrive without being heavily molested by the five criminals had let her regain her composure. Now she was ready for a fight – super powers or not. She had fire back in her eyes.
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Silver Streak - 3rd Installment

"Watch it, guys!" Tom yelled, as he tried to scramble to his feet. "He's still got his powers. Get the girl!"

Supergirl wasn't about to be recaptured by these goons. But as she tried to spring away, her ankles buckled and she collapsed in front of the fearsome foursome. Tom's earlier batting practice on her shins had apparently done quite a number on her.

Taking advantage of Kara's predicament, Jack dove for her. The blonde tried to fight him off, but Jack grabbed one of her wrists and subdued her with a painful wrist lock that had her arm twisted up to the middle of her back. Before Claude could react, Jack had the shiv at the teen's throat.

Supergirl froze. She felt the cold blade pressing into her windpipe, cutting off her oxygen. Bile rose up in her throat. This is how I'm going to die, she thought, closing her eyes.

"No! Wait," cried Claude. "Don't kill her! You win. I'll do whatever you say."

The other men quickly regained their composure. Mack, Deke and Bob shuffled over to Jack, surrounding the captive heroine. Tom strode to the table and picked up the gold net where it had fallen. Slowly and warily, he approached Claude.

Claude knew that Supergirl's life was in his hands. He got down on all fours and assumed a posture of utter compliance. Then he felt the weight of the net over his back and shoulders. He would play along. For now.

The color was returning to Mack's face. Ten seconds earlier, he was sure he was a dead man. Superman hadn't been known to kill criminals before, but then again, none of them had gotten his cousin topless and shoved a knife in her back before. But things had taken a very lucky turn.

"Now we wait," he said.

Mack let a full 15 minutes pass. Then he stood in front of the kneeling Claude.

I just have to be patient, thought Claude, wait for my chance. He looked down at the floor, careful not to antagonize the thugs. He never saw the heavy brown boot that swung up from the floor and caught him full in the face. Then there was only blackness.

"I think Supie's out cold," said Mack. "Let me make sure." Mack got a grip on Claude's hair and pulled his head off the concrete. "Oo-WEE, boys and girls! it looks to me like the Man of Steel has a broken nose. He's bleeding like a stuck pig!" Mack released his grip and let Claude's head bounce off the smooth gray floor.

Whoops went up all around the room. Deke and Bob gave each other a high five. Supergirl and Superman were no longer super.

Deke spoke up. "Well ain't this a happy turn of events. And I know just how to celebrate. Jack, how about you let me take your place there, and you sharpen that blade on Superman? We don't need two superheroes."

"No," screamed Kara. "Please! He can't hurt you now ... there's no need to kill him. Can't you just let him be?"

Supergirl's face had gone white and her face was a mask of anguish. Deke knelt down beside her and took her chin in his huge hand.

"Well, I guess that depends, little girl. What are you willing to do for me?"

Supergirl looked up at Deke with pleading eyes. "Anything," she said, almost inaudibly.

"Excuse me? I didn't catch that. Jack, go on now ...."

"Anything!" she screamed. "I'll do whatever you want. Just don't hurt him."

Deke continued to cradle Kara's smooth chin with one hand. With the other, he unzipped his orange jumper and lowered his underwear, revealing a huge and very much erect penis.

The teen's eyes misted over. Her chin bobbed in Deke's hand as she silently wept. But no words were spoken. There was nothing to say. She parted her soft lips, opening her mouth wide and closed her eyes.

The strong, musky smell came first and she felt the urge to vomit. Then she felt Deke's foul-tasting organ against her tongue. Soon she was suffocating. As she began to gag, Deke grabbed hold of Kara's dangling breasts. He pulled her in close, trapping her so she couldn't get her head back to pull her mouth free of him. For a moment, the blonde was sure she would pass out. Then she began to draw air in through her nose. Meanwhile Deke used his leverage on Supergirl's boobs to pump her violently, ramming his member against the Girl of Steel's tonsils.

To Kara, it seemed like an hour passed, but it was less than a minute before Deke shot his load of cum down the teen heroine's throat. Once he had pulled out, he gave her tits a strong squeeze, drawing a gasp from her.

"Now THAT'S what I call a celebration!"
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Dr. Dominator - 3rd Installment

Supergirl sagged pathetically in Deke’s grasp, her dimpled breasts compressed roughly in the tall man’s palms as he held her limp body just three feet off the cold concrete floor. Her head hung back off her shoulders, her neck arched, her eyes fluttering. Her knees wobbled unsteadily on the floor and her thighs quivered spastically. Out of the topless heroine’s mouth thin slivers of Deke’s pale white cum drained freely down her chin and neck. It ran across her breasts and through her cleavage. The man had cum a lot and everything she hadn’t helplessly swallowed was now oozing out of her mouth. She moaned deeply and then let out a dull grunt as Deke let her helpless body drop to the floor.

After landing on her side, Supergirl’s beautiful figure then rolled onto her back with her cum-streaked breasts wobbling heavily in place for several moments. Her left arm laid pinned beneath her with her right cast off to the side, palm up. She was exhausted, nauseated and barely conscious from the beating and abuse. She lay there stunned barely hearing the voices around her. More cum oozed slowly out of the corner of her slackened, partly open plush lips. Off to the side, the panties of her uniform that she’d pulled out of her mouth in order to give Deke his blowjob lay in a carelessly dropped blue puddle of fabric. The blonde’s naked sex glistened in the low light between her slightly spread thighs.

“That girl has a great mouth and I’ll bet that pussy of hers is even better,” Deke beamed, eyeing the bald slit between the open thighs with hungry eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it’s prime real estate., Deke, but we have a plan that we need to stick to and that means getting out of here in one piece,” Mack declared. “We have a little leeway time-wise but not a whole lot. The longer this goes on, the worse our chances are for a clean getaway. So nobody’s sticking their dick up that non-super snatch there until we get settled into our hideout. At that time, it can be gang bang city but until then we stick to the plan. Get me?”

Everyone nodded and mumbled their acceptance but Tom, Jack and Bob were less than thrilled that Deke got a free blow job before Mack pulled the plug on their fun.

“What do we gonna do with the big lug here,” a nervous Tom asked, nodding at the unconscious Claude lying flat on the floor, a tiny pool of blood from his nose spreading out on the concrete.

“We’re going to keep him tied up nice and safe. In fact,” Mack pointed to Tom and Jack, “you guys go back to that store room and grab some sheets and start ripping them up and tie up that helpless sack of shit now before he comes to. We may need him yet as a hostage and Supergirl did bargain for his life with a bj. We are men of our word after all,” he chuckled.

The two cons headed off to the store room while Mack finished his thoughts. “Maybe blondie will be more willing to play nice back at the hideout if we bring her lame-ass cousin with us. I like a feisty girl but I also don’t like worrying about teeth and such. He’s our extra insurance policy through the cops and later when we’re out of here. He may convince her to up her game, ya’ know?”

“Oohhhhhhh....” The three cons turned suddenly to watch as the moaning Supergirl turned her head and hacked up a thick gob of cum onto the floor. It sat there like a pale dead oyster without its shell, a lumpy mass by her cheek and she spasmed once, her free right wrist jerking up before falling limp to the floor. Her eyelids fluttered but the famous teen settled back into a dazed state of dulled confusion once again, limply inert.

After watching the half-naked blonde settle back down into her wounded lethargy, Deke remarked about his concern about the size of Superman. “He’s a pretty big guy, Mack,” Deke said, eyeing the prone 6' 3" physique of the unconscious fireman. “If he don’t cooperate, he’d be a lot to handle.”

“Yeah,” Bob agreed. “That makes me nervous, too.”

“You’re not wrong, either of you. That’s why you, Bob, are going to be in charge of keeping a shiv pressed tight up against Supergirl at all times as we go through the guards and cops. It’ll keep them and her big dumb cousin from trying anything too.”

“That’s good thinking, Mack. I just hope it works,” Deke said.

“Me too. We’re going to have to huddle up tight when we pass through the guards,” the leader stated. “And no one can know that Supergirl doesn’t have her powers. Otherwise she’s not nearly as valuable a hostage.”

“Wait a minute!” Bob waved his hands in the air dramatically. “Wouldn’t you think the cops and guards would be a lot more likely to take a risk shooting near her if they thought she was bullet-proof?” Bob’s face went a bit pale considering this. “Hell, they could take sniper shots at us and not worry a fig about her. You ask me, I think they oughtta’ know she could be killed. That protects us more. And a shiv gives us even more protection if they know she can have holes stabbed in her, no?”

While Mack thought this over, the two other cons returned with dull gray bed sheets. Thin and old, they are easily ripped. Already with strips draped over their arms, they tore up a final set of six more strips before rolling an unconscious Claude Kelly onto his side. They tied his hands together quickly behind his back in big bulky knots. Then they put his back against the wall and tied his ankles together. They worked steadily at trussing the big man up tightly as they listened to Bob, Mack and Deke’s strategy for the escape.

“You know what, Bob. You’re absolutely right. You’ve got a better head on your shoulders than I gave you credit for. So, what we do is announce that Supergirl don’t have her powers but her cousin Superman does and he’s the valuable hostage but can’t do nothing cuz he’s trying to keep his pretty young cousin alive. The warden and cops will be thinking that Superman will try to pull some kind of super shit on us and save the day so they’ll won’t interfere. But they won’t know that Superman is nothing but a helpless stooge. That works out better all around!”

All the cons consider this and all liked the new strategy a lot.

“Okay, Deke, go wake up Mr. Kelly there but don’t hurt him,” Mack commanded. “I want him to be able to walk instead of carrying him. He’s no good to us if we’re too busy lugging his carcass around. We ain’t got the manpower for that.”

Without hesitation, Deke walked over to the trussed fireman and gave him a swift kick in the thigh. “Let’s go, Superman. Time to play big dumb hero.” The kick knocked the big man hard enough to make him topple forward. With his hands tied behind his back, it was all Claude could do to turn his head so as not to knock his nose against his kneecaps. As it was, the man hit his temple against them and saw flashes of light before he recovered enough to open his eyes fully and assess his situation.

“Hey, I told you not to hurt him,” Mack growled at Deke.

“That? That was a game of patty cake. He’s Superman. He can take it!” Deke reached down and grabbed a strip of cotton sheet and hauled the still wobbly fireman to his feet, holding him up by the bunched fabric tied around his chest. “Same rules as before, Supie! Behave or we’ll have to hurt your cousin in ways that mess up her pretty body and face. Get me?”

“I get you. Could you back off a bit. You’re mouthwash isn’t cutting it.”

“Oh, a wise guy. Maybe this will....”

“DEKE!” Mack shouted, shocking the entire room “I told you, we need him standing and capable of walking. Knock it off!” Deke unclenched his fist and stood by his tall captive in a sulky mood.

“Bobby, go over and wake up Little Miss Cocksucker there,” Mack gestured. “Get her dressed up nice and proper in her costume. I want the world to see how precious and important she is. And how vulnerable. Be sure you get Jack’s shiv and keep it near her. It’s time to let ‘em both know how things are gonna be and how they’re gonna help us blow this joint.”

The curly brown-haired Bob walked over to the prone Maid of Steel and squatted down beside her. He patted her face roughly on both cheeks and told her to wake up and stand up, lending her his arm so she could pull herself to a standing position. Dazed but with her senses finally clearing, the famous Last Daughter of Krypton wavered in place with her breasts swaying free and her shapely ass cheeks showing under a disheveled short skirt whose hem was caught up in the yellow belt. Bob pulled on the skirt and let it drape down over her ass, then smoothed it down for her, copping a slow squeeze of her butt in the process.

“You can pull that top down now and I’ll fetch your panties for you,” Bob said.

Supergirl’s face blushed a deep crimson as she quickly repaired her costume top to its proper disposition, pulling down the fabric and covering her breasts at last. The semen that had flushed out of her mouth onto her chest darkened her tunic in spots where it clung to her shape but there was nothing to be done about that. When Bob pointedly held up her silky blue panties by the two sides of their waistband and waved them like a flag in her face, the blonde heroine snatched them from his grasp with a mumbled “Oh you!” and quickly stepped into the shiny briefs and pulled them up her legs as quickly as possible. Not, however, before she had to bend over and flash her balloon knot and naked pussy from under her entirely inadequate skirt to everyone assembled. Even Claude’s eyes widened at the view.

“Now you two are gonna listen and listen good,” Mack said, drawing everyone’s attention back to the matters at hand. “You’re going to do everything we tell you to do so all of us can get out of this prison alive. We’ve come up with a plan and you two are going to follow it to the letter or you will die. Any questions?”

“Yes,” Claude replied. “You can’t believe the warden and about 50 cops are going to let you just waltz out of here, can you?”

“I do. And you’d better hope they value you and your cousin’s lives, Superman,” Mack answered. “Cuz that’s what I’m counting on and that’s what you should be counting on. Now listen up and I’ll tell you how I want things to go. Oh but wait, I almost forgot something.”

Mack strode over to where Supergirl was being held by the elbow by Bob. His nasty-looking long thin shiv was already pressed into her side so she didn’t move a muscle when the tattooed leader came up right beside her. He took the scoop-neck collar in his two hands and yanked it in opposite directions with a loud shredding tear. The rent fabric went down in an ugly diagonal gap from the right edge of the collar to just below the bottom of the teenager’s right breast. The gold kryptonite had destroyed the unearthly strength of the material as surely as it had stolen the Kryptonian’s powers. Supergirl’s full round right tit wobbled there, fully exposed now.

“Oops,” chuckled Mack. “Wardrobe malfunction.”

Supergirl’s shocked face looked down aghast at her jiggling chest and her ruined blouse and the mighty Maid of Steel burst into tears.

“There! Now we’re ready to put on a show for the warden and his men,” Mack declared boldly.
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Silver Streak - 4th installment

"Dry your eyes, sweet cheeks," Mack said. "There's only one way you and your cousin are gonna get out of here alive, and that's to do EXACTLY what I tell you. Got it?"

"Y-yes," said Supergirl. She looked Mack directly in the eye, trying to appear heroic.

"Good. The first thing you're gonna do is to tell the guard to slip two pairs of handcuffs under that door," Mack said.

Kara complied. Before long, there was a commotion outside the heavy door, the same door that a formerly invulnerable Supergirl had confidently strode through a few short hours ago. As ordered, the door opened a crack and handcuffs skittered across the concrete floor.

"Good job, Blondie," said Mack. "Now put your wrists behind your back."

Supergirl shivered. Whether it was from the cool air of the prison on her bare torso or a premonition of some kind, she didn't know. But she had no choice. She brought her arms behind her and held her wrists together while Bob handcuffed her. With a click of metal on metal, Supergirl was rendered completely vulnerable.

Mack dangled the other pair of handcuffs out in front of him, admiring them as they caught the light. "Now bend over for me."

"Hey, what is this?" said Claude. "She's done as you asked. You don't have to hurt her!"

Supergirl instinctively tried to put some distance between her and Mack, but Bob held her cuffed wrists tight. So she just shook her head from side to side, her eyes fixed on the dangling restraints.

Mack nodded slightly to Bob. The well-muscled thug grabbed the chain between Supergirl's wrists and pulled sharply upwards. Supergirl cried out in pain, automatically bending at the waist to keep her shoulders in their sockets.

"That's a girl," said Mack. He opened one side of the second pair of handcuffs and maneuvered it around the base of the Girl of Steel's dangling right breast. Supergirl grunted and squirmed, but Bob was too strong. Within seconds, Mack had pinched the cuff tight around the warm tit.

"No, you bastards!" cried Claude. "Get it off of her! Can't you see what you're doing to her?"

Claude was right. Mack had clamped the cuff so tightly that the soft flesh on both sides of the metal swelled around it, locking it in place. Supergirl was staring at her caught boob and whimpering.

"Shut the fuck up, Superman," said Mack, "unless you want me to kill her right now. Is that what you want?"

Claude fell silent, glaring as Mack attached the other end of the handcuffs around his own left wrist. He dropped his left arm to his side, forcing Supergirl to bend again. With his right hand, he took a shiv and makeshift holster from his pocket. He worked the shiv free, then held the blade against Supergirl's throat. He instructed Deke to get Claude to his feet. The fireman's hands were still tied behind him.

"Show time," he said.

"Hey warden," Mack yelled. "Time to open this door!"

At first there was only silence. Mack was about to shout a second time when the heavy door swung open to reveal more than a dozen prison guards, guns drawn.

The guards didn't know what to expect, but it definitely wasn't this. One of the guards said "What the fuck???" before an angry stare from the warden shut him up. But you couldn't really blame the guard. The world's mightiest teenager, the beautiful Supergirl, was standing bent at the waist, her swollen and naked breast handcuffed to the gang leader's wrist. From the look of her, she had been through a very rough time.

"Kind of surprising, huh," said Mack. "It seems Supergirl isn't very super now. Why just a few minutes ago, she opened those soft and pretty lips of hers and sucked my dick like it's never been sucked before. A truly world class blow job, isn't that right, kid? Tell the nice warden what you did."

Supergirl kept silent. Then Mack jerked his cuffed hand across his body, yanking the Maid of Steel's throbbing bosom along with it.

The beautiful teenager wailed in agony. Then she saw that Mack was preparing for another yank

"Y-yes, that's right," the beautiful superheroine said softly. Then she lowered her head and wept. Several feet behind her, Claude wept also.

If the warden needed any proof that Supergirl was truly powerless, he had it now.
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Dr. Dominator - 4th Installment


“So, Warden Gillespie, you’ve just seen just how dangerous this tamed little heroine’s situation is. Now tell your guards to lower their guns, slowly...” Mack is calm and purposeful in his declaration especially when he adds the threat he knows will work. “If they don’t or if they try anything heroic, this shiv that I’m holding against her neck will spray her Kryptonian blood like an exploding fountain pen and end this pretty little champion’s life right quick. We all clear on that?”

“Lower your guns, men. Everyone, now. Nice and slow,” Warden Gillespie orders. “No one is to try anything or they will be fired on the spot and face criminal charges for dereliction of duty. Sanders,” he says to the tall sandy-haired chief guard at his side, “radio that command to everyone right now.” Sanders does so and then the warden nods at the lead prisoner. “Satisfied, Mack?”

“Thrilled, Warden. Nice to know you understand how to follow orders as well as give them. Now my friends here and me are going to walk out of this prison without a hair out of place and get into your nice new big black Jeep Cherokee you’re so proud of and ride off into the sunset. And you, Gillespie, are going to come along all the way to the front door to make sure everything goes smooth as silk,” Mack McMasters instructs. Everything understood so far, Warden?”

“I understand you, Mack,” nods the glum administrator. His unblemished record as warden is going up in smoke before his eyes along with his brand new car it seemed.

“Good. Now, you may not realize it, Gillespie, but that big fireman there is, in reality, Superman himself!”

“That can’t be!” Gillespie’s eyes dart to Kelly’s as the big man with the bloody nose nods glumly in confirmation, playing his role in order to save Supergirl’s skin.

“I’m afraid it is, Warden, but he’s smart enough to know when he’s beat,” Mack nods at the humbled fireman. “We’ve tied him up good and tight with your bed linens just to slow him down enough that he can’t use his super powers fast enough to save his blonde cunt cousin before we slice her throat as easy as coring an apple So, we’ve got two super hostages and you’re on the hook for her life and his freedom right now. And, like I said, everybody’s going to play the cards I dealt out and we’ll be out of your hair in no time, yes? Nobody gets heroic and everyone lives to tell their grandkids they were in the great Rikers Prison Breakout of 2016. Now let’s get movin’ people.”

Mack yanks on the handcuffs which draws a yelp of pain from the blonde teen as she stumbles forward for three steps before regaining her balance. Bent forward at the waist, she awkwardly walks along beside Mack with her hands cuffed behind her back and her pretty blue panties showing her shapely butt underneath her skirt. Deke follows behind her, eying the beauty’s rear with a wide leer of total satisfaction.

The group of prisoners moves through the hallway from the prison’s laundry toward the large dining hall. The guards spaced every 30 feet or so along the halls just watch in amazement with their rifles lowered as the famous Supergirl is ushered past them in a pose of utter domination. One dangling naked breast sways free while the other swells brightly red now, the reduced circulation by the handcuff making the soft tissue almost glow in its constraints. Some guards gaze at the bloody face of the big fireman and show surprise at this. Word had spread along the hallways like a telegraph line with the news that the big lug was Superman, but not everyone believed it when he passed by with a honker that looked broken. But then again, if they’d stolen Supergirl’s super powers, what’s to say the big guy’s abilities weren’t also impaired. It was confusing but they were under orders not to do anything to hinder this escape. The whole thing felt surreal to everyone involved.

As the entourage moved through the rows of long tables in the empty dining hall, guards on the balcony surrounding the huge room looked down with a mix of shock and frustration. Five prisoners were just walking out of their facility with the warden’s acceptance and there was nothing they could do about it.

Glen Reynolds, a 53-year old second shift guard with twenty years service at Rikers couldn’t bear the shame this brought to what he thought of as his home. Slowly he brought the muzzle of his rifle up until it pointed at the Mack McMaster’s back. He’d tangled with McMasters before and disliked the con intensely. Shooting him and saving the day would be a bright mark on his record. He’d be a damn hero while everyone else was cowed in fear!

As the group passed below him, Glen gradually wrapped his finger around the rifle’s trigger and slowly applied pressure. The guard beside him, David Keyes, saw the movement and reflexively speared his arm down to grab Glen’s wrist. He shouted “No!” but he was too late.

BOOM!

The sound froze everyone in place and the concrete floor beside Mack’s left foot exploded in a puff of white dust as the bullet buried itself there, missing the mark thanks only to David’s quick action. The prisoners all hustled closer together, dragging their hostages inside their circle as their heads swung around in all directions, their eyes wide with panic, their voices calling out.

“STOP!” Warden Gillespie screamed immediately above the noise of clattering rifles being raised and the murmurs of three dozen guards and the alarmed shouts of the escaping prisoners asking Mack, “What’s going on,” and “What do we do?”

The room instantly quieted down with Gillespie’s scream and he yelled out again, looking above him at the balcony. “WHO FIRED THAT SHOT?”

When only silence answered, the warden asked it again, with a stern coldness that explained how he’d gained his position of authority. Reynolds spoke up at last, calling out, “I did, sir! Sergeant Glen Reynolds, sir. For the honor of Rikers, sir!”

“You had your orders, Reynolds, and you flagrantly disobeyed them. You have not honored Rikers, you imbecile, you have greatly dishonored it!” The sergeant’s face goes pale with this notion and gets paler when he hears the warden’s next words. “You are terminated, Sergeant, and you will face a court martial for your actions. Give Corporal Keyes there your weapon and report to my office until my arrival.”

“Not so fast, warden,” Mack declares. “I want that man brought down here right now.”

“He’s my problem, McMasters. I’ll handle him. You heard what I’m going to do to him.”

“He almost killed me, Warden. I’m calling the shots here, not you. Hey! Reynolds, you sack of shit, get down here now!”

The 20-year man hands his rifle to Keyes and walks down the spiral staircase from the balcony to the dining room floor. He strides with a military bearing up to the warden and presents himself at full attention.

“Over here, asshole,” McMasters commands, pointing to the floor in front of him. “I’m your superior officer right now and you’re in a world of shit, Glen.”

“Only because Keyes saved your worthless life, maggot,” the surly guard snarls back.

SMACK!

Mack’s right hand has delivered a searing backhand fist to the guard’s face who’s head jerks to the side as he stumbles back a step. The shiv held in Mack’s hand adds weight to the punch and Reynolds sees stars for a moment, then recovers and starts to lunge at Mack when his hair is yanked from behind and he is harshly stabbed from behind by Jack, the blond prisoner who’s own homemade knife constructed from a tediously-sharpened spoon is deeply embedded in his side.

“GHUUNNGH! Reynolds’ loud grunt draws a plea from the warden: “Wait! Stop!”

Jack releases his hair-hold on the guard, pulls out his shiv and lets the groaning man fall in a heap to the floor, clutching his side.

“AN OBJECT LESSON, PEOPLE!” McMasters’ shout echoes off the dining room walls. “ANYBODY ELSE GETS IN OUR WAY AND THEY PAY IN BLOOD!” Mack then kicks Reynolds hard in the gut and the guard rolls over onto his back, his face white as he starts to go into shock.

“ENOUGH!” The warden shouts, trying to regain control of the moment and save his stupid guard’s life. “You’ve made your point, Mack. Let me get him to the infirmary. You don’t want a murder charge. You’ve just got armed robbery on your sheet. There’s a world of difference....please!”

Mack looks down at the dull-eyed guard and nods. Gillespie was right. The pig may have hurt him and tormented him for the past five years in stir but he wasn’t worth the gas chamber. “Fine,” he says. “Get that garbage out of my sight!”

“Keyes, Montoya,” the warden shouts. “Get down here and take Reynolds to the infirmary on the double. Sanders, radio ahead his condition, he’s going into shock.”

When Keyes comes down and starts to bend down to lift up Reynolds, Mack puts his arm on the guard’s shoulder, stuffs the shiv in his belt for the moment, and puts out his free hand to shake it. “Thanks for saving my life,” the con says.

“I was trying to save his, McMasters,” Keyes replies nodding at Reynolds and purposely ignoring the con’s extended hand. “Your life ain’t worth squat to me.” Mack lowers his hand with a nod and steps back, yanking the whimpering Supergirl with him with a surge of anger.

With Montoya on the other side, the two guards hoist the stabbed man to his feet and walk him out of the dining hall and toward some much-needed medical attention. He’ll have a scar in his side to commemorate the day he sent his life into the shitcan!

“Okay, let’s get outta here,” Mack says with a nod at the door leading from the dining hall into the cell block.”

“Wait a sec,” says Deke, who steps up to Mack and whispers in his ear. The conversation is short and intense with a glance or two at the bent over Supergirl who’s wavering on shaky legs. Ultimately Mack nods at Deke and then makes an announcement.

“As further evidence of our intentions and as a demonstration of our resolve, we will be punishing Super Cunt here for the infraction of that puss bag Reynolds. My friend Deke here will be keeping a closer guard on ‘Blondie’ here to be sure nobody tries a second stupid attack on this party before we leave the premises.” Mack removes the shiv from his belt and hands it to Deke. “That includes you, Superman. One false move and your cousin is toast. Understand?”

“I had nothing to do with that guard’s behavior,” the sullen fireman replies.

“Maybe not but Deke says he thought you looked like you wanted to mix it up during all the commotion,” Mack answers. “We’ve got our eyes on you, champ. Every second! Now go ahead, Deke. Get into position. And you, Sugar Tits, stay still and take your medicine like a grownup.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Claude Kelly has made his life’s mission to keep the superheroine alive at all possible cost, even to sacrificing his own life. Still, he has to play things smart and pick his best opening.

“Just watch, bright eyes,” answers Mack.

Deke steps up behind the bent over teenage girl hero and lifts up her short skirt until it lays against her back. When Supergirl balks and takes a frightened step forward, Mack yanks on her tit, eliciting a squeal of pain but a remorseful heroine who freezes in place, trembling.

“Steady there, sister,” Deke says from behind her. “You got no say in this so just stay still and you’ll live through it. Besides, it ain’t going to kill you.” Slowly, he pulls down the Maid of Steel’s bright blue panties until they are nestled just below her buttocks.

“Please....please...don’t....” whimpers Kara even as she feels the man’s hands slowly pry open her ass cheeks. Then one hand leaves and she hears a hawking spit behind her that makes her turn her head. She sees Deke stroking his saliva all over his exposed penis and she blanches with fear. He’s going to stick that large cock into her, she realizes with horror.

“Don’t!” Claude implores from three feet behind, watching the famous Supergirl’s rear end shake and quiver as her knees quiver uncontrollably.

“Pipe down, hero, or you’ll get more of the same. This is a prison, moron. Even guys get raped in here! In fact, I think Bob there has taken a shine to you,” chuckles Mack. Claude looks at the well-muscled con with curly brown hair who’s standing beside him holding the twisted sheet entangling the fireman. Bob just winks at him coyly and Claude says nothing more.

A wide-eyed Supergirl can’t take her eyes off Deke’s penis as he steps up close behind her, but she is forced to when Mack’s right palm enfolds her jaw and pulls it forward until she’s looking up at the leader of the escaping cons.

“How’s your day goin’, Sunshine? Feeling like a hero, are you?”

The taunt clears some of the fog of fear out of Supergirl’s eyes and the blue irises fix on his muddy brown ones. “When this is all over, McMasters, believe me, I’m going to make you sorry you ev....UUUNGGHHH!!”

The shock of having seven inches of rigid dick shoved up her ass knocks every ounce of anger right out of the teenager’s eyes. Instantly, pain and horror take its place. And then the dick is withdrawn and thrust deep up into her rear again and her eyelids flutter over only whites as her face pulls into an agonized grimace.

“Perhaps, Supergirl...and perhaps not. Perhaps you’ll be nothing more than a helpless skank with a gaping asshole, too depressed to do anything but drown herself in drugs and booze. Hard to tell. Meanwhile, just start walking. We’ve got a cell block of hardened criminals to go through while everyone gets to watch the famous Maid of Steel get butt-fucked. I’m sure that those guys who you put in here will have a few choice comments to make as we pass by, you pathetic cunt!”

Mack pulls on the handcuffs and the impaled superheroine takes painful tottering steps forward as she feels Deke’s cock nestle in deep within her back chute, filling it completely. The shiv is held against her throat by the grinning con and Mack nods at the gleeful man with a stern warning. “Don’t get too cute, Deke. She’s our exit visa and if you kill her, we’re cooked, so ease up a bit on that shiv, you’re scraping her skin. She ain’t gonna’ fight you. She’s going to be a good little cock muff, aren’t you Supergirl?” Mack pulls the handcuffs and the sore tit wobbles in place.

“Yes,” whimpers the helpless bent-over blonde with her tits hanging free and a hard cock buried in her ass and her tight blue panties clinging to her upper thighs. She has no choice. As the group of escapees walks out of the dining room and into the entryway to the cell block, the feel of the dick sliding forward and back slightly with every step fills the famous teen heroine with shame and defeat. And then, hanging her head and slowly plodding forward she hears the cell block erupt with a thunderous roar of approval and her heart freezes in despair.
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kendra
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I think the writing skills themselves are fine but I had to stop at the beginning of part 2. The whacking with a baseball bat was just too gruesome for me. Knowing how destructive that is, it was a little too Negan.
Sorry.
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DrDominator9
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I understand. No need to apologize. That's why this story is set in the dungeon. It's very dark and as such is not for everyone's taste. I thank you for commenting though and appreciate you taking the time to express yourself. I do have stories in the regular stories section that are less abusive to heroines.
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kendra
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There are degrees of abuse us heroines expect ;)
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Dr. Dominator - Final Installment

All the inmates are cheering and jeering at the sight of a bent-over Supergirl being led through the massive two-story cell block by her naked red breast bulging in a handcuff while being ass-raped from close behind. She’d sent many a criminal into this prison and those whom she had delivered here were shouting the loudest.

“Feels different being the fuckee, don’t it, bitch!”

“That cock oughtta loosen you up right, you arrogant tight-assed cow!”

“Got your tit caught in a wringer this time, didn’t you, Supergirl?”

“Heard you gave out a nice blowjob just now, cunt. I’m next. Expect to gag on me, girl.”

Whazzamatter, Superman? Can’t do shit to help your ass-stuffed cousin? Some hero you are!”

“Now that’s how to handle a superheroine. You’re a god, Mack!”

“So much for the virgin Maid of Steel. You’re fucked for life now, missy!”

“Come spend time in my cell, Supergirl. See what it’s like to be inside...while I see what it’s like to be inside you!”

Toilet paper rolls unfurl and cascade down from the upper level cells along with the verbal abuse. So do many balls of crumpled paper, hastily-filled wads of jizz-soaked tissues and other litter of all shapes and sizes. Some hit the warden, others hit the costumed blonde and some land on the frowning Claude as the procession moves through the block.

Even the cons making their escape are hit several times by the debris but they’re busy smiling and waving and don’t seem to care. They’re all in their glory and consider the rubbish as if it were confetti raining down on them in a tickertape parade down the Canyon of Heroes in New York City.

“As you can tell, you’re not the beloved heroine here, Supergirl,” Mack declares. “In fact, you represent everything that’s gone wrong in these men’s lives, blondie, so if I were you I’d nestle up those buns of yours nice and close to Deke so his dick goes deep as possible. That way he can better protect you from flying objects that can now pierce that very vulnerable skin of yours.”

When a tossed crumpled paper cup hits a nervous Supergirl in the forehead just seconds later, she does press herself back closer to Deke, her warm butt pressing against his pants as she grunts at the length of his invading cock.

At the end of the path through the cell block, the group comes to the heavy steel gate looming eight feet high. Through the fat bars the guard eyes the warden who glumly nods his approval. The gate is unlocked and swings open allowing the tightly-clustered entourage to pass through. Then, after another corridor is passed in silence by the now grinning prisoners-turned-free-men, the final steel door leading to outside world is reached.

“Listen, McMasters, this is your last chance to end this,” the warden says. “If you give up this escape attempt now and release the hostages, I promise there will be no time added to your sentence or to these men’s time.”

“You must think I’m some kind of idiot, Gillespie, if you think I’m going to give up right when everything is coming together so perfectly. Just open the damn door, warden. I’ve been kept in this shithole long enough!”

“Listen, McMasters, if you don’t...”

“GEEEYAAARRGGHHH!” Supergirl’s screeching wail of pain turns everyone’s heads at once.

Deke is angrily thrusting his prick in and out of the blonde heroines rear end in a series of jerks that has her mouth gaping open and her eyes fluttering with only white showing. The pain of this vicious anal rape combined with the yanking on her handcuffed breast has her legs shaking and her body limp, held up only by Deke’s grip of the handcuffs holding her arms behind her back.

Claude Kelly leans forward and feels the bed sheets crimp tighter around his wrists and his upper torso pulled back hard against Bob. The whispered “Easy there, hero. Don’t go gettin’ your cousin there killed when it’s almost over,” quells the fireman’s anger.

“I can do this all day, people,” Deke shouts. “I’m having the time of my life! No more bullshit, warden! Open the fucking door!”

Warden Gillespie nods to the guard who unlocks the final door and swings it open. A flood of light streams into the passageway, nearly blinding everyone. And then a cool breeze floats through and Mack orders everyone, “Okay, move outside. Slowly now. Head for the parking lot. Keep your eyes out for snipers. Deke, ease back on ass-reaming the girl but keep that shiv close to Supergirl’s throat. She’s our exit visa.”

As the sullen guards on the towers watch with rifles held at rest, the tightly-knit group of escapees and hostages moves through the grounds, along with Warden Gillespie and the day’s primary key guard. When they get to the final gate in the perimeter 12-foot high fencing, the glint of sunshine off the razor wire is almost painful in the afternoon sun. The key guard opens the door, knowing any delay will be paid for by the bent over blonde in the disheveled red and blue costume. He pushes on the last door in the prison and it swings open onto the parking lot. The group moves forward toward a large black Jeep Cherokee a couple of dozen yards away.

The prisoners are licking their lips, anxiety and fear rushing into their hearts now that their goal is so close, their escape imminent.



“Crap!” The warden’s face blanches white as the hand in his pocket digs deep for car key that he suddenly realizes is not there. The car is unlocked since being parked a dozen yards from a maximum security prison tends to cut down on car theft, but the key is needed for the prisoners to drive away to their hideout.

“What’s the problem, Warden. Did you just realize your balls aren’t the size you thought they were,” Mack says, his lip curling in a nasty smile as he eyes the administrator’s hand while it wrenches desperately in his pocket.

“The car key. It’s not here. I just remembered, it’s in my office. On a hook...I...”

“You’re fucking shitting me,” blurts out the wiry con named Tom who’s now wildly looking around him, and nervously turning his body around looking at the towers in extreme fear. The flawless getaway is breaking down and so is he.

Mack’s smile from his taunt about the warden’s balls has long since dissolved. “If this is some kind of trick, Gillespie, you’ve just sentenced Supergirl to death by shiv in her throat. Deke, be ready.”

Jack, the fifth prisoner with the blonde goatee, is also unnerved by this sudden glitch and he makes his anger clear. “Gut that cunt, Deke. We’re screwed!”

“Deke, DON’T!” Mack barks. “Everyone chill. Warden, David! Look at me, tell me the damn truth and make me believe you!”

“It’s no trick, Mack, I swear. I just forgot. All the confusion. The tension...an honest mistake. You have to believe me,” the warden pleads. “Landers,” the warden looks at the key guard, “call for my aide, Fellows. Tell him to run that key down here now!”

“Wait!” McMasters holds up his palm, looking around at the guards in the towers before nodding at the car. “So we can’t get into the car?”

“Yes, uhh...no.. I mean you can, yes. It’s not locked.”

“Okay, everyone pile into the Jeep. We’ll be safer in there. Less angles, less opportunity for itchy trigger fingers. C’mon, Now!! Everyone in the vehicle. No, not you, warden! You stay out here until that key comes. Then you’ll hand it to me nice and carefully, understood?”

“Yes, Mack. Thank you for being reasonable.”

“Just be reasonable yourself, Dave, and everyone comes out of this alive,” Mack says as he climbs inside, sitting down on the back seat behind the shotgun seat and pulling the door shut behind him. In that front seat Claude Kelly is set on Bob’s lap tightly held by the bed sheets twisting his wrists together behind his back. Supergirl is in the middle of the backseat, her rear end resting in Deke’s lap as she grimaces at the depth of his penetration in this position. Next to her is Tom who is looking at Supergirl’s naked breast and getting ideas about squeezing that nipple. Jack sits behind the steering wheel nervously drumming his long fingers against it as the group looks out at the warden who is looking back at the door to the prison with a very worried expression.

“Well, I figure we got a good ten minutes here before that key shows. Bob, you’ve been eyeing that big stud on your lap since he showed up. I’m guessing you’re hard as a length of steel pipe by now. Superman, your cousin here has a shiv pressed against this cute little pulsing artery in her neck so you best let Bob there have his way with you and don’t struggle and don’t say nothing. Got me?”

“Clark... don’t let them. Fight back! Save yourself!”

“OR...” screams Mack before quieting down, “you can keep her alive and sacrifice your pride, champ. Isn’t that the smart play, the heroic way? Say you agree, Supes, and she lives.”

“I agree,” grimaces the fireman, knowing he has no option. This girl saved his life so it’s forfeit as far as he’s concerned. In any case, she’s worlds more important than he is.

“Hey, I thought your name was Claude,” Mack says, puzzled.

“It is. Clark is just a nickname she’s called me since we were kids,” the fireman improvises. “Like the candy bar, the Clark bar, ‘cause I was so sweet.”

“Don’t that just yank on your heart strings. Okay, Bob, pull down his pants and fuck him. He won’t give you any trouble.”

While the ten minutes dragged on as the Jeep’s ignition key was retrieved, both Claude and Kara suffered the indignity of being sexually assaulted by the convicts, Kara much moreso as Bob kept the humiliated fireman for himself alone, bumping him up and down on his lap with a huge smile.

Supergirl was passed around the backseat and bent forward between the front seats in rapid succession, being subjected to forced oral sex while her privates were being callously finger-fucked then shoved in her quickly-vacated mouth til she gagged.

The warden looked through the lightly-tinted glass horrified but unable to do anything but register the occasional panicked looks on the faces of the two hostages as they were continually abused by the raucous men inside the vehicle.

At last the car key was delivered and Warden Gillespie rapped sharply on the back window and shook the single key urgently back and forth, hoping to bring the defilement inside to an end. Mack opened the back door slightly and reached out for the key which was dropped into his waiting palm.

“Thanks for everything, Dave. Be seeing you,” he said then pulled the back door shut with a firm thunk. “Jack, lock all the doors,” Mack suggested passing the key up to the driver, “then what say you turn on the AC, it’s hot as hell in here with this car bakin’in the sun like this.”

“Sure, Mack,” Jack answers, pressing the door lock and getting a satisfying clunk. “Just have Deke pull the slut hero back there with you guys ‘cuz her sticky cum-drenched face up here is blocking the AC controls.”

“My pleasure,” Deke replies, pulling Supergirl into the back seat by her hair and settling her tightly between himself and Mack. “We’ve got some more quality time comin’ with blondie here,” he says, fondling the bulging breast still cinched within the handcuff. This draws a groan from the defenseless Kryptonian. “Maybe weeks and weeks ‘til we let her go, right Mack?”

“Who knows,” McMasters grins, “maybe months and....”

KLAANGKK!

“What’d you fuck up now, Jack?” Tom growls, anxious to be underway now that the sex play is done and the keys are delivered.

“Me? Nuthin!” Jack looks all around for where the noise came from, as do all the convicts. Supergirl and Claude just sit back in place, still dazed by the abuse they’ve just suffered.

Suddenly, Jack starts rasping noisily, unable to breathe. The rest of the occupants follow suit, everyone gasping desperately. With the doors securely locked to prevent outside interference and Jack slumped forward against the steering wheel like a rag doll, nobody can open their doors. Within seconds all the occupants in the Jeep are hunched over either with their heads in their laps or their bodies slouched off to their sides completely unconscious.

From outside the Cherokee, a red and blue figure comes spinning up through the concrete parking lot, appearing just four feet away from the vehicle. Superman then walks up and smashes the driver’s window, unlocks all doors using the control button and pulls Jack out of the car with a light tug that sends him flying a dozen feet away. The warden opens the front passenger door and pulls out Claude, laying him on the tarmac as gently as possible. Superman is less gentle with Bob, yanking him across the center mounted controls between the seats and flinging him on top of the unconscious Jack off in the distance.

In the back seat, a dazed Tom, revived slightly by the incoming oxygen is rudely put back under when the Man of Steel reaches past the headrest into the back area and flicks his fingers against Tom’s forehead. His body jolts back against the seat and the convict falls out of the Jeep onto the parking lot like a tumbling sock puppet. He is added to the heap in the distance. Mack is yanked onto the hard tarmac by Warden Gillespie, the prison administrator making sure that McMaster’s head bangs against it with a thump. The ringleader isn’t going to awaken until he’s chained to a hospital bed by both arms in a few hours.

Yanked to her right because of her still handcuffed breast when Mack is pulled out, Supergirl is sprawled across the seat in a swoon, the oxygen only now slowly reviving her. Her top is pulled askew with her breast still exposed and her stomach also on display now. Hunched forward to her left, the awakening Deke sees the calamity that has befallen their escape. Spotting the shiv lying on the carpet mat at this feet, he grabs it and pulls his arm back to stick the point into Supergirl’s exposed gut, at least putting an end to this annoying bitch.

From under his chest, Supergirl’s boot heel suddenly swings up and catches Deke square in the nose, knocking him backward toward the open door behind him. The momentum of the violent kick carries Deke out of the Jeep and the fall from the high-wheeled vehicle is disastrous to the convict. There’s a loud crack and Supergirl sits up in time to see the impossible angle to Deke’s neck. His life obviously is gone, his stare infinite.

The moment Supergirl sees the convict’s impossible pose she is engulfed in a maelstrom of guilt. She’s taken a human life, her first. And then she feels the rough sensation of the car seat against her bare bottom and the entirety of what she’s gone through today hits home. She lurches across the seat just in time to vomit onto the tarmac, heaving out her guts, her shame and her disgust in a violent rush. It’s several heaves and a choking gasp before she wipes her mouth with her sleeve and weeps aloud, splayed across the backseat with her skirt hiked up and her naked ass showing. A moment after that her guilt at Deke’s death dissipates, replaced by righteous indignation and not a little anger. Slowly, she reaches down to pick up her panties lying on the floor of the backseat and slides them on, heaving her rear off the seat and pulling them up before smoothing down her skirt.

The Great Riker’s Island Escape of 2016 is over at last. Superman stands near the Jeep’s front door, surveying the scene. He looks into the back of the Jeep at his cousin with a frown of displeasure but she simply returns his gaze with a cold glare of her own. They’ll discuss the taking of a human life later she knows. She’s heard the lecture before. This was an accident that she could live with and if Clark didn’t like it, she could go through the details of what had been done to her in detail until he squirmed with discomfort. Anyway, it didn’t matter since her days as Supergirl were over and such rules were now moot. The gold kryptonite had seen to that.

Wearily, the Last Daughter of Krypton gets out of the Jeep on the warden’s side, covering up her breast with her freehand and kneeling beside the inert Mack, the handcuffed breast not allowing her much freedom of movement. Superman circles around the vehicle, sees the situation and uses his heat vision to cut the chain between Mack’s handcuff on his wrist to the cuff clenched around Supergirl’s swollen breast. Freed at last, Supergirl stands up. Her breast is still constrained and with no key to be found, Superman very carefully and slowly cuts the cuff off with his heat vision. The second it falls off her breast, Kara massages it slowly, grimacing at the return of the blood flow before she sets it back in her shirt and straightens up the fabric.

And then the blonde beauty begins to weep once more. She can’t help it. Besides the outrage of all the physical abuse heaped on her, the very idea of never having her powers again to help people, or to be able to enjoy the thrill of flight across an orange sunset saddens her to the core. Fat tears fall down her cheeks in rivers of grief.

“It’ll be okay, Kara,” Superman offers. “Give it time. Every hero suffers some kind of defeat at some point. It’s how we respond to defeat that defines us.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Kal,” blurts Supergirl. “You’re not the one who’s lost his powers forever!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Gold kryptonite. They had a net made up of the stuff, dusted with it and covered all over me. My powers are gone for good! I can never be Supergirl again.”

“Who told you gold kryptonite took your powers away forever?”

“I read it in a newspaper report once when Intergang tried to use it on you years ago.”

“They got their facts wrong. Gold kryptonite eliminates all your powers completely, that’s true but it doesn’t last forever. It lasts 24 hours. That’s all.”

“Really?” Supergirl looks doubtful, unable to process this information. “You’re not saying that just to make me feel better?”

“24 hours. Less since I’m told you were subjected to it a couple of hours ago. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been here sooner for you. I just got back on-planet about 15 minutes ago.”

“I’m just happy you showed up when you did. That trick sucking the oxygen out of the car so everyone passed out immediately? Nice job. I have to say that was the scariest episode I’ve ever experienced in my life. And the humiliation....” She looks at Clark who’s clearly uncomfortable. This is a topic she’s going to have to talk to her friend Diana about. Wonder Woman had reputedly been abused in her dealings with desperate villains. Kara would be sure to have a heart to heart chat with the Amazon very soon.

“Well, let’s get you home safe until you get your powers back,” Superman says somewhat awkwardly. “I’ll take you to the Fortress right now.”

“My full powers back. Sounds too good to be true. But I need you to wait a few minutes before we head to the Fortress. I have to talk to Claude Kelly here before we go.”

“Sure thing. Warden, can I help you sort this trash for recycling,” Superman says, nodding at the unconscious convicts lying around the parking lot.

“I’d appreciate you overseeing that, Superman, just to make sure they don’t wake up and give my men any additional trouble. Landers, get a detail out here with enough men to escort these convicts to solitary confinement, pending medical clearance, except for McMasters. Put him in the hospital ward under double restraints.”

Superman hoists up Mack McMasters over his shoulder and he and the warden wander over to the heap of convicts he’d thrown off to the side. The powerful hero lowers Mack down, propping up the ringleader against the pile of men. This gives Supergirl and Claude Kelly some privacy.

The somewhat bleary fireman is sitting up and rubbing his head, the headache from the vacuum Superman caused inside the sealed car throbbing noticeably. He isn’t looking at Supergirl who’s squatting beside him. She takes his square jaw in his fingertips and turns it firmly toward her, her blue eyes taking in his pained brown ones. “I’m so sorry for everything... I...it...was... inexcusable... what I did.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t help things much.” His frown, the murmured apology, his inability to maintain contact wrenched at Supergirl’s heart.

“You never should have been put in that position in the first place. I was the coward in this scenario.”

“Hey, with what they did to you, anybody would have done the same. Anybody!”

“Yeah, well, I have to answer to a higher standard.”

“With no superpowers and five convicts treating you like...well, like the way I saw. Nobody meets that standard, lady! Give yourself a break.”

“Only if you give yourself one,” Supergirl snapped back. “You sacrificed your body to keep me alive. There is no shame in what you did, Claude. Zero! It’s...it’s...just... an incident... it’s one we both have to get past. We were both treated horribly...like objects. Those men have lost their humanity but we have to keep ours. We have to accept the violation and let it make us stronger. Deepen our resolve to be vigilant that it doesn’t happen to others. Keep our hearts pure...”

“Hey, Kara,” Claude says, interrupting her. His palm smooths over her cheek and he smiles at her. “I hear you. Put the public service message on hold, please. Okay?”

Gulping quietly she looks into Claude’s eyes which have less pain and a hint of amusement even. Her lips quiver into a shaky smile of her own.

“Guess I was trying to convince us both at the same time, huh?”

“I’d say so. Look, Kara, from the moment you saved me last year, I felt like I had a second chance at life and I’ve tried to earn whatever that meant. Trying harder, rushing into burning buildings without them being secured, playing hero in an attempt to make your rescue mean more. Perhaps today was a kind of payback for me but it also was an eye-opener. I can be what I am again without being reckless. Reckless is stupid.”

“You’re right, Claude. And you weren’t reckless today at all. You played it carefully, played along and looked for an opening...”

“One that didn’t come,” Claude said with a deep sigh.

“It came. In time, it came and your patience kept us both alive to continue us doing what we do. I think that’s going to have to be enough for us.”

“It’s not enough though,” the fireman said softly, looking down at Supergirl’s hands that were now holding his.

“I don’t know what to tell you but I think it’s all we’re going to get,” Supergirl said quietly.

“Nope, we’re going to get each other. I would like to see you more times than just falling off a building or being dragged through a cellblock full of rabid dogs trying to shame us. You think something like a date could happen?”

Taken aback, Supergirl looks down and blushes before looking back up into the eyes of another true hero. “Yes, yes, I think that could be arranged,” she says, her magnificent smile lighting up the end of a very long day.


The End
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Abductorenmadrid
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A well crafted collaboration piece, the two writers styles not clashing at all. I like the final take down of the villains, oxygen deprivation shutting down the escape, though the morality question of killing someone is left to hang over our heroine. DrDominator's regular readers will no doubt be satisfied by this compact perilous tale.
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darkguy
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WOULD love our heroine getting effected by this events and maybe doing things she never expected herself to do
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pervstuff
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Really enjoyed elements of this story. The contrasting writing styles were apparent but didn't take away from my enjoyment. I got to the end wondering how the heroes might escape and I had guessed zatanna, superman, ko gas in the car vents as possibilities. I think the ending was a bit sudden and I wanted to see the convicts suffer more.

That's something I was surprised by how much I hated the villains/convicts! That's typically not the case for me this was well written in that aspect! Overall good read ! I will be diving into rest of DrD's library over the coming weeks and months though this is the title that enticed me the most I'm sure the rest are as entertaining !
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