Jewels In Her Crown

by Torrent

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Heterosexual, Fan Fiction, Superhero, Rough, Sadistic, Water Sports, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Another variation on the Supergirl-as-sex-slave theme.

They say Supergirl is back to normal, back to fighting crime, upholding justice — all that shit. That's what they say.

I say, don't believe everything you read in the funny papers.

Wanna know where she was for those two months that TV and the press called a "sabbatical"? She was getting the shit kicked out of her at... well, I ain't allowed to say where. Just believe me, she was beaten, raped, humiliated.

And forced to give blowjobs — slow, wonderful blowjobs.

I know. I was on the receiving end of some of them. And I was on the giving end of a few of the beatings.

Lemme tell you, it took some sophisticated technology to bring her down and disable her. But all it took was dicks and fists to break her. Dicks and fists, and a kryptonite implant in her cerebral cortex.

Let me tell you how we went about it.

The boss — Domo — he broke us up into three teams. Two spotters atop a hill about a mile from where she did a lot of her recreational flying. Two more guys on a smaller hill closer to the valley she usually flew over. They had a modified Russian SA-7. Then me and Cesar, we was in a little clump of trees down in the valley. We was, you might say, the catchers.

It's just past nine o'clock at night. There's a three-quarter moon and no clouds. The spotters call in. "She's coming." That's all.

Me and Cesar look over toward the hills, and sure enough, there's a shadow moving in the sky, coming our way. You can't tell at that point what it is, but it don't have no lights and it ain't making no noise.

What does make a noise is the SA-7. A big whoosh. She hears it, too, when she's almost directly overhead. We see her stop in midair. I'm assuming she turned to see what was coming toward her. It was too dark for us to tell for sure. Anyway, there's a flash and half a second later a loud boom, and she comes tumbling down, like a shot duck.

She lands with a thud not 50 yards from us. Me and Cesar run like hell toward her, but we really didn't need to hurry. When we get to her, she's lying on her side, and she's not moving. Her panties was blown off by the explosion, so her cunt's exposed.

"Here's our big chance for a Super fuck," says Cesar.

"Not til we get the bag over her head," says I. I pull out a plastic bag with a hose that runs from a gas canister on my back. I slip the bag over her head, and hit the red button on my belt. The bag inflates.

Just in time.

She's starting to come to. Her baby-blues flutter open just as she inhales the krypton gas. Bingo, her eyes roll back and she goes as limp as Grandpa's dick.

I stand up, slip my foot under her and flip her onto her back. "Now you can fuck her," I says to Cesar. And he does, right there on the ground, humping her poor, scorched pussy while she's a million miles away in dreamland. Not my idea of a real fuck. I like it when they're wide awake and begging for mercy — or begging for more dick.

Cesar, Gus and Rudolfo took turns with the bitch in the van. We took off the plastic bag. Domo had warned that more than 15 minutes of inhaling krypton could kill her.

After a while she started to revive. That's when I got interested. Gus was squeezing her tits when her eyes popped open and she started squirming. She tried to push him away, but she was still weak as a kitten. He slapped her a couple of times real hard. That didn't work, so he punched her in the jaw. She quit resisting.

"Okay, boys, give her a rest," I said. I knew it wouldn't take long for her to be conscious enough to appreciate what I was going to do to her.

I was right. After a few minutes, she moaned, opened her eyes again and tried to sit up. I grabbed a handful of her thick blonde hair and jerked her up onto her knees. Her face was just a couple of inches from my crotch. I pulled down my zipper and pulled out St. Nick.

"Suck it bitch," I said. She looked up at me with an expression that wasn't very cooperative. I smashed a knee into her face.

"Suck it," I said again.

She wiggled around and reached up to loosen my grip on her hair. A swift kick to her crotch ended that. I let her fall backward. She doubled up in pain.

"You got a lot to learn, bitch," I said.

"Fuckin' A," added Cesar. He slammed his boot into to her kidneys for emphasis.

Domo was pissed that she'd been fucked before he could begin his experiments.

"Who violated her?" he asked in a real calm voice. When he got real calm, that meant trouble.

Gus said, "Sorry, boss, but what do you mean, 'violated'? "

"I mean fucked," said Domo. "Which of you fucked her?"

Gus and Cesar raised their hands. Then they shot angry looks at Rudolfo, and he raised his hand, too.

That left me, Stick and Bobbo. "I was driving, and Bobbo was up front next to me," said Stick.

Domo looked at me. "And you, Turgul? Where were you?"

"I was in back with the bitch and the boys, but I didn't fuck her," I said.

Domo glanced at Gus.

"He's telling the truth, boss," said Gus. I could tell he wanted to add that I had tried to get a blowjob, but he kept quiet. I had too much on Gus for him to squeal on me.

"Gus, Cesar, Rudolfo, I'm docking each of you one week's pay," said Domo. "And if you touch her again while she's a guest here, you die."

He turned to me. "Turgul, you, Stick and Bobbo come with me. The rest of you will patrol the perimeter. Take the dogs. I want to be absolutely sure we have no visitors."

I kinda felt sorry for them. It was getting cold outside, and patrol was about the most boring job in the world.

There was nothing boring about what Domo wanted me to do. We went into a big room with grey concrete walls and all kinds of chains and ropes hanging from the ceiling.

Supergirl was hanging there, too. Her wrists were shackled over her head, her legs were spread, and her ankles were chained to rings on the floor. She was completely helpless, and she knew it. Her head hung down.

Domo slipped a hand under her chin and raised her face. She had been crying. Damn, she was beautiful.

"I thought she would show more spirit," he said. "Frankly, I'm disappointed. By now, the effects of the gas should have mostly worn off. She should be in fine fettle."

I don't know what the fuck a fettle is, but she looked terrific, hanging there just waiting to be fucked.

"Perhaps she needs to be provoked," Domo said. He stepped aside. "Turgul, punch her in the stomach."

I hesitated a second. Something about it didn't seem right. But then I didn't want to piss off the boss, so I slammed my right fist into her gut as hard as I could. Her breath came whooshing out.

"Again," said Domo.

I hit her again, this time with a left that caught her lower ribs. Then another right, this one low, between her navel and her crotch. She really groaned with that one. Then a left, into her side.

"That's enough," said Domo.

She hung from the chains like a slab of dead meat.

Domo pressed two fingers against her throat.

"Heart's still pumping," he said softly. "Very odd. What's happened to her power? She let you use her as a punching bag. Didn't try to break free of her restraints. Didn't even tighten her abdominal muscles to protect her belly."

He stroked his chin. I didn't like the way he was talking. It was like he was expecting the bitch to become superhuman again — with me as the closest target if she started swinging.

Domo walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a big, studded, stainless steel dildo. It was way too big for any woman.

"What's that, a hippo fucker?" Stick said, with a laugh.

"No, it's a Supergirl fucker," said Domo, "and I'll let you figure out how to use it."

He handed it to Stick, who almost dropped it.

"Son of a bitch is heavy," he said.

"Yes, thick and heavy, and those studs have sharp edges," said Domo. "Your job is to stick it as far as it will go up our lovely young lady's twat. But first we want to make sure she knows what's coming." He grabbed her hair and jerked her head up. She opened her eyes halfway, but it looked like no one was home.

"Show it to her," he said.

Stick waved the business end of the dildo in front of her. It didn't seem to register.

Domo grabbed her jaw and squeezed until her mouth popped open. "Give her a taste of it," he snapped.

Stick pushed the dildo into her mouth and worked it around. Her eyes were fully open now, and you could tell she was scared. She tried to bend her head back to escape the rough metal, but Stick just pushed it in harder.

She started to gag.

"Okay," said Domo. "Take it out." He put his face close to hers. "What you just felt, what you just tasted, is going into your vagina, all the way into your uterus. It will tear you apart."

"No," she said. It was the first thing she had said since we shot her out of the sky. "Please, no."

Domo stepped back and nodded to Stick.

Stick knelt and positioned the dildo between her legs. Suddenly, her body began to convulse, her hips began to gyrate. She was trying to escape her fate.

"Turgul, get behind her and hold her," Domo barked.

I put my arms around her and squeezed. She was finally putting up a fight, and I liked that. I felt myself getting hard.

Then she screamed. Stick was doing his job.

I'm still not sure exactly what happened next. I heard chains break. I heard another scream, but it wasn't her; it was Stick. I felt her body pushing me backward. Then I lost my balance and landed on my ass.

She was still hanging by her wrists, but her legs were now free. She must have used them to crush poor Stick's head. He was lying on his side. Blood was gushing from his nose and his mouth, even his eyes. The dildo was a few feet away.

"At last, the real Supergirl has arrived," Domo cried. He seemed happy in some crazy way.

Yeah, she had arrived, all right. Now she swung herself upside down and used the chains attached to her wrists to propel herself upward. She planted her feet on the ceiling and began pulling the chains, trying to break them, or to loosen the big steel ring embedded in the ceiling.

Bobbo yelled, "She's gonna get loose." I was yelling, too.

But Domo, he seemed very relaxed. There was a big smile on his face.

"Come to papa," he said, drawing a long-barreled pistol from inside his coat. He aimed and fired.

It was loud, but it didn't sound like a regular gun. Whatever it was, it worked. Supergirl gave a little yelp, then came tumbling down. The chains jerked her to a stop before she hit the floor.

A dart protruded from her left tit.

"Tranquilizer?" Bobbo asked.

"You might call it that. Ground Kryptonite in a suspension."

"You knew she was going to finally wake up and try to escape?" I said.

"Yes, of course," said Domo.

"And Stick, did you know he was going to get his skull crushed?"

Domo's expression turned cold. "I knew there would be risks, of course. I didn't expect anyone to get seriously hurt. It's too bad about Stick."

"Shit, it coulda been me," I said angrily. "She coulda broke free when I was beating the fuck out of her."

"But she didn't, did she?" said Domo. "You're alive. Stick's dead. Shit happens. Besides, both of you have been very amply compensated."

He was right about that, the pay was damn good. But I still felt pissed off. Thing is, Domo's too dangerous to be pissed off at. You gotta just swallow it and go on.

"And, Turgul," Domo said, "consider this: You're going to participate in an amazing experiment. I'm going to turn Supergirl here into a ravenous slut, and you're going to be the one who'll satisfy her lust."

Or die trying, I thought to myself.

Domo's girlfriend was the one who did the actual operation. Her name's Gretchen, and she's a microbiologist who does surgery as a hobby. Gus told me she just likes to cut things up — animals, men, especially beautiful women.

But this didn't involve cutting — just piercing.

They strapped Supergirl to the operating table. She also had a kryptonite butt plug, so she wasn't going anywhere, straps or no straps.

Gretchen pulled on a pair of latex gloves, while her assistant rubbed alcohol on Supergirl's forehead. "So this is the famous Kara Zor-El. Not bad looking," Gretchen said.

Domo gave a derisive snort. "Not bad looking? As lovely as you are, my darling Gretchen, you have never looked and never will look so good."

"You make me want to disfigure her," Gretchen replied. She was really pissed, but she said it very quietly.

"And if you did," said Domo, "just imagine what I would do to you."

Supergirl's head was held by what looked like a big metal vise. It must have been some kind of x-ray machine, too, because it made a humming noise and Gretchen kept looking up at a TV screen. The picture was just a lot of wavy gray stuff.

Gretchen caught me looking at the screen. "I'll bet you didn't know blonde bimbos had brains," she said. "Well, here's proof they do. And now we're going to have some fun."

She took the cap off a long plastic cylinder and removed a filament so thin I wouldn't have been able to see it, except that it caught the overhead light and glowed. It was like magic.

She touched one end of the wire to Supergirl's forehead, just a an inch or so above where her eyebrows met. Then she twirled it between her finger and thumb, and the damn thing went right into Supergirl's head.

"It's in," said Domo. He was watching the screen. Sure enough, a fine white line had now entered the gray stuff.

I looked back down at Supergirl. She still lay there all peaceful. Then, suddenly, her body stiffened and began to tremble. She made a gurgling sound like someone drowning.

"Oh, what a shame," Gretchen said. "I seem to have hit a pain center."

"Cut the crap," Domo snapped. "Do what I told you to do."

Gretchen sighed heavily, like someone much put upon, and removed the filament. "Okay," she said, "let's try here."

She again pressed the end of the wire against Supergirl's forehead, and again it entered easily, this time slightly to left of the original point.

Domo, watching the screen, said, "Careful, now. You're in very dangerous territory."

"I'm the doctor," Gretchen shot back. "I know what the hell I'm doing."

Supergirl didn't seem to be breathing. Then a monitor attached to a blood pressure cuff on her right arm started beeping. "You're going to lose her," Domo cried.

"Shut up, I know what I'm doing," Gretchen said.

And I guess she did, because the beeper quit beeping and Supergirl started breathing again. In fact, she began breathing real fast, like someone excited. Then she moaned. Everyone in the room knew what kind of moan it was. And, sure enough, her pelvis started moving up and down. I moved so I could see her pussy. It was glistening.

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