The sensation of flight. The exhilaration, the freedom of it. It was what the earthlings seemed the most curious about, what they always asked her about.
What’s it like? What does it feel like, to fly?
Of course it was the one thing that Supergirl, even in her unflagging patience, could never quite convey to them, no matter how often they asked. How might one describe it, after all? How could one explain the feeling of flight to those creatures who, being earthbound, could never so much as taste of it? That a Kryptonian, under the rays of a yellow sun, might launch herself into the air as easily as an earthling might raise an arm-this was an ability that no human would ever comprehend, that no machine could ever provide him, that no artificial aid would ever yield to his understanding. For no matter what mechanism or prosthesis he might affix to himself, no matter what technology he might resort to so as to defy gravity, an earthling could, at best, only mimic the motion of flight-he would never know the power of it, he would never experience the flying as his own. Or, as Supergirl liked to say, he would never know naked flight-pure, unadorned, unburdened flight. He would never know that particular feeling of being aloft-not falling through space, not held up or propelled by some machine, but soaring. Still, the earthlings tried. Oh, how they tried. Supergirl had, after all, been in countless battles with men who, trying to match her abilities, had fastened rocket packs to their boots, or had constructed anti-gravity fields about their bodies, etc.-but, for all their genius, she knew that they would never know what it really felt like to fly. For the experience of flying was hardly a matter of mere weightlessness, nor did it consist simply in the feeling of being rocketed through the air. No, the essence of it was to be found in the mind itself: its thrill was that of the power of her thoughts, of her very consciousness, over all physical obstacles. “Mind over matter,” she had often heard the earthlings say; and indeed, for Supergirl that was precisely the nature of flying: a thought, a wish, a mere tug of her will and Supergirl’s body would be borne aloft, soaring in whichever direction she might imagine. To be sure, the earthlings often misunderstood this about her: they often imagined that flying for her was primarily a physical exertion, that it was essentially an effect of her body’s strength. Yet for Supergirl the ability to fly arose not from her muscles, but from the strength of her consciousness, of her mental power. She liked to describe it as the feeling of her thoughts shooting through her body, like the very blood through her veins-almost as though her body itself had become thought. It was a feeling of total mastery, of the concrete efficacy of her mind, and not only over her own physical frame, but over the very elements themselves: after all, to a body such as Supergirl’s, gravity was not a law but only a faint tug, something she could only dimly perceive through the soles of her boots, something she observed in others but from which she herself remained forever aloof. (Even in sleep, gravity barely touched her: how often would she awake to find herself floating just above her bed!) Weight itself hardly existed for her, a fact reflected in her very body which, despite her many years on earth, seemed never to age; in her plump breasts which did not just sway but bounced with every step; in her narrow waist which, in spite of her enormous strength, made her outwardly petite; in her rounded buttocks over which her famous red skirt swished back and forth; in her slender legs, every inch of which appeared smooth and soft. Her whole frame was as full and pert and firm as it ever was, as though she were overfull of life, as though her body simply continued to absorb energy from that yellow star which, she knew, was the source of all her power.
But this of course was the paradox: Supergirl’s robust and voluptuous body was not experienced by her as such. For, after all, Supergirl’s existence was not primarily bodily at all: indeed, her feeling of herself was almost altogether incorporeal. She had almost no mundane consciousness of her body-no sense of weight, of gravity, of physical obstacles. And indeed, her inability to describe to earthlings what it felt like to fly stemmed from this very fact that, in a way, she simply did not have a body in the way that humans had bodies. A Kryptonian under a yellow sun does not suffer the pangs and stabs of bodily life that earthlings must endure: her body gave her no problems, no pain; she knew no fatigue, no age; she never felt uncomfortably hot or cold, nor did she have so much as a dim perception of the general aches which all humans must experience in the course of their everyday lives. In all her battles with the seemingly endless train of villains from all over the world, she had never been defeated, had never even been in trouble. She had conquered every foe, overcome every challenge. In a word, Supergirl floated through the world, and had never, in all her years, really touched down upon it.
It was for this reason that she had always designed such “skimpy” costumes for herself. It was not out of vanity, as so many of her critics had deemed; nor was it out of some bizarre strategy to distract her foes with her body, as some overly enthusiastic reporters had suggested. On the contrary: if her outfits seemed too revealing, it was precisely because she had almost no sense of her body, no vain or cunning ploys with respect to it. If she wore tiny skirts even in winter, it was because she never felt cold; if her legs were always bare, if her suit fitted so closely to the contours of her body, it was because she wanted as few physical things rustling about her as possible (except, of course, for the cape, which she wore only as a tribute to Kal El). Finally, if Supergirl seemed to earthlings to be the very image of voluptuousness, if she was the subject of countless human fantasies, it was not because of her desire to be sexy, but rather precisely because human sensuality was, to her, an enigma, something that had all but escaped her.
Needless to say, Supergirl was a virgin. Sex was something that rarely entered her thoughts. She led a wholly asexual life. Her powers, lifting her above her own physicality, had all but extinguished those burnings from her flesh. And indeed, if she appeared to be easily embarrassed by sexual talk (as some of her fellow heroines had often observed), it was not out of shame for her desire, but rather for her own ignorance of such matters.
Yet tonight, flying high above New York City, Supergirl could not help but think of sex. Tonight, strangely, inexplicably, she was in the mood. Tonight, Supergirl was-almost-horny. Her super-vision enabled her, even from beyond the clouds, to peer into the apartments and homes of the city’s inhabitants, and she could not help but laugh as she caught herself lingering whenever she caught a glimpse of a couple engaged in sexual relations. They seem so hungry, so desperate when they do that, she thought to herself. At times, she wondered if it really were all that pleasurable, this “love-making;” often it seemed to her as if the earthlings were really in pain when they were amidst such throes (if, that is, their facial expressions were any indication). At times she found the whole thing utterly comic. She simply could not fathom what sexual desire was. Still, on this night, and despite her lack of any physical stirring, she could not help but feel curious. Tonight, it was her turn to ask: What’s it like?
Tonight, for the very first time, she allowed herself to fantasize. As she soared above the city, she tried to conjure a simple dream: a man-anonymous, faceless-scoops her into his arms, strips her naked, and begins to kiss and caress her all over her body, his hands roaming over every inch of her skin, her legs, her buttocks, her stomach, her breasts, her face. He lays her down gently and spreads her legs, penetrates her, fucks her…
It was no use. Though she tried to imagine it, it all remained too obscure, too indeterminate in her mind. No matter how romantic or how “dirty” her fantasy became, it never became clear to her just what she was supposed to be feeling. She simply could not imagine what it felt like, this thoroughly physical pleasure. A vague tickling sensation was the closest she could imagine to the shudder of an orgasm; a blurry sense of frustration was the closest she could come to genuine lust; a shadowy feeling of sleepiness was the closest she could come to the intoxication of pleasure. Desire itself was, in her mind, but an obscure pang, like some dark, barely twitching organ deep inside her.
Still, tonight, and despite her failure to conjure up the human pleasure of sex, something had changed. Something was going on inside her. Not only had she been able to fantasize, she had also taken a strange pleasure in it. And it was not only a mental pleasure: she had felt something, however indistinct, in her body. A light trembling, a sudden and fleeting moment of weakness, which vanished as quickly as it came. She thought at first that she had imagined it, but no: this was unlike anything she had ever known. For the first time in her life, Supergirl had felt-there was no other word for it-weak.
She soared higher, as though she were hoping to reclaim that sensation, to find it somewhere in the sky. As though, there in the heavens, she would find the source of her pleasure.
Strangely, she did.
As she flew up into the clouds, that feeling, that sudden gush of weakness, that lightness in her stomach, that tingling upon her skin, that sweet dizziness-it all washed over her once more, only this time much more powerfully. She moaned aloud as, perhaps for the first time in her life, she truly felt her body-for the first time in her life, her body had suddenly lurched ahead of her thoughts. It was as though her mind had relinquished its power, as though her body had suddenly, and for the first time, become real, and indeed even more real than she could have imagined. For the first time in her life, Supergirl felt the objectivity of her existence, the sheer physicality of her being. Her mouth fell open, her eyes closed, and Supergirl swooned. For the first time in her life, her body had thrust itself into her experience.
And then, for the first time in her life, Supergirl felt gravity.
She almost hadn’t noticed, but she was plummeting. She could feel the earth pulling on her body, as though it wanted to pull her into it. For a full thirty seconds she fell, feeling the weight of her body dragging her down toward Manhattan. Quickly she regained her senses and resumed flying, though not without difficulty.
“My god,” Supergirl said to herself, her body still tingling; “what the hell just happened?” As she shook out the dizziness from her head, she tried to recollect just what had taken place. Was this sexual desire? Had she just had her first taste of lust? Being ignorant of sensual pleasure, she could not say. Yet, whatever it was, she wanted more.
She flew to the same spot she was before, up into the clouds. Nothing. She tried to replay the fantasy she had imagined before. Nothing. She tried to feel some trace of the physical sensation running through her body that she had felt before. Nothing. An empty sigh escaped her lips as she floated there in the silent sky.
She closed her eyes, as though trying to detect some inaudible sound, as though hoping to feel something in her flesh. Only silence, only lightness.
Then she heard it. A swishing, a rustling. Her eyes sprang open. She heard it again, this time behind her: the sound of something speeding through the air.
She was not alone.
Quickly she turned and scanned the sky, yet saw nothing. The mist of the clouds surrounded her. She used her super-vision to look through the clouds, but could detect no movement, no other presences. Maybe I just imagined it, she thought to herself.
Yet no sooner had the thought entered her mind than the feeling she had had before-that sudden dizziness of gravity-burst upon her once more. Again she felt weak, unsupportably heavy, like some inert and dull object, and was able to remain aloft only with extreme concentration.
“What the hell is going on here?!” she said aloud, no longer amused by the novel sensations washing over her. Again she heard the sound of something speeding through the air.
And then she realized: she was not having a sexual experience: she was under attack.
In a flash she shot upwards, trying to emerge from the clouds so as to lure her opponent from their cover. Yet even this proved to be extremely difficult: she felt as though she were dragging a planet behind her, and indeed the further up she flew, the more concentration it required, the slower her speeds became. Finally, as she emerged from the clouds, Supergirl could barely keep herself aloft, so dizzy with mental exhaustion had she become. Wearily and confusedly, she looked about her. Only the blackness of the night sky and the misty darkness of the clouds below. Total silence. She tried to use her super-vision to peer into the clouds, but quickly realized that, in her weakened state, she was unable to muster the concentration necessary for it. Damn, I’m like a sitting duck, she thought. Still, Supergirl had never once in her life retreated from any foe, and she was not going to start now. She knew that, even in spite of her dizziness, she was still stronger than any earthling: she would just have to take this enemy out as quickly as possible.
“Come on you coward!” she screamed into the darkness; “Come on and fight me!”
Silence. And then, a faint rustling from the murky depths below. Supergirl readied herself for combat, trying to clear her head. Suddenly, four figures emerged from the clouds. Supergirl immediately noticed that they were flying of their own power, without any mechanical aids, something she had never before seen. But then, these beings were not human. They possessed humanoid-type bodies, but were visibly of another species altogether. There appeared to be two male and two female creatures, though she could not be sure. Their small eyes glowed with a bright green light, suggesting to her that they were not entirely organic, but perhaps were composed of mechanical parts as well, or perhaps of some unfamiliar energy source. Their flesh was a light yellow, and small but uniform ridges ran down the sides of their faces. They appeared to be roughly 7 feet tall, except for one of the female creatures, who was the same size as Supergirl. They each wore a red and black body suit, and two of them-the males-were carrying what appeared to be whips-only, the whips too glowed with a greenish hue, matching the light of their eyes. All four of them appeared to be perfectly calm as they surrounded Supergirl.
Supergirl quickly realized that, whatever it was that was making her dizzy, whatever it was that was making her body feel so heavy, whatever it was that was making her so weak-it was coming from them. As they surrounded her, Supergirl could feel her arms drop to her sides: she could no longer hold them up. A gasp escaped her lips as the dizziness increased: she could feel her body start to fall. And then, blackness.
Her loss of consciousness was only temporary, however: it resulted more from the shock of the experience than from any actual damage it had done to her. She awoke a few seconds later, still in mid-air. She realized that she was not floating, however, but was rather being dangled by her hair. One of the four villains had reached out and grabbed her when she lost consciousness, and now the other three were closing in. Her dizziness continued to increase.
“Quickly,” one of the female creatures said with an eerie calmness as she approached; “we must take full advantage of…”
Before she could finish the sentence Supergirl’s leg shot out and kicked her square on the jaw. The creature was sent hurtling away at blinding speed. The other three were taken aback with surprise, and Supergirl knew that this might be her only opportunity to escape. Still dizzy and fighting almost blindly, she grabbed at the hand that was clutching her hair and whipped the creature-the other female-around, driving her fist deep into her stomach. She could tell that she had done severe damage by the sickening groan that the creature emitted, and so turned to face the two males.
As she turned, the sound of one of the whips lashing through the air buzzed by her face. Though the whip did not strike her, she could feel her strength pouring from her body as it flew by. She realized that something in the whips themselves was the source of her weakness. She knew she had to disarm these men if she was going to win this fight. Yet the men were too fast for her: she moaned as the other whip struck her across her stomach, tearing her costume and leaving a dark scratch upon her flesh. Supergirl gasped at the sting of the whip: in all her encounters, she had never had so much as a mark put upon her body; now, somehow, she could feel not only pain, but actual damage being done to her. The two creatures pressed their attack, and Supergirl cried out as the whips began to rain down upon her, lashing her over and over, striking every part of her body-her throat, her arms, her legs, her breasts, her face-each strike making her weaker, dizzier, heavier, more helpless.
“No…please…stop,” Supergirl moaned, the words slipping out of her mouth almost unconsciously; through it all she could hear what she thought was the sound of laughter.
Finally, the whips stopped. Supergirl opened her eyes and looked down at herself: her body was covered with lashes; her costume had been ripped open; tiny trickles of blood seeped down her thighs and arms. Weakly she looked up to face her attackers: they were grinning at her cruelly, as though waiting for her to try to fight back.
I’m in serious trouble, Supergirl thought to herself. She knew she could not win this fight; not here, not now. She turned to try to escape-and became face to face with the two females she thought she had dispatched before. Before she could react one of the creatures drove her fist deep into Supergirl’s belly, causing her to gasp and double over; the other took advantage of this and snap kicked Supergirl’s face, sending her reeling into the arms of the two males, who caught her amidst more laughter. Supergirl could feel a drop of blood escape her lips, and moaned helplessly as one of the creatures wrapped his whip around her throat. The moment the whip made contact with her flesh, she could feel her strength start to fall away from her limbs; for a moment she struggled, but the strange power of the whip was just too much. Soon, she just hung there helplessly, her arms hanging lifelessly at her sides, as the whip tightened about her throat, draining her of all her power. The creature then ripped away her cape, and began to drive his fist into her back, raining blows upon her kidneys. The other creature had flown around to the front, and began to punch Supergirl’s breasts: right, left, right, left. She could feel her breasts bouncing violently about, each punch making her weaker. She felt pain, she felt weakness, she felt her body more vividly than ever before. She knew she couldn’t take much more of this; if this beating kept up, she realized, she would lose consciousness altogether, and then she would be nothing more than a body for them to destroy. She had to escape.
Yet before she could muster up the strength for one final counter-strike, the blows again suddenly ceased, the whip was removed from her throat, and she began to fall helplessly toward the earth. The beating had taken its toll upon her. She could no longer fly. Her mind was too clouded, her body too bruised, her head too dizzy to concentrate. A feeling of absolute helplessness filled her as she plummeted toward the earth. She knew that she would probably survive the fall, but she also knew that, in her current condition, she would be defenseless against these strange new enemies. She tried frantically to regain her senses: her only hope was to fly away; her only hope was escape.
Yet even as these thoughts took shape in her mind, she saw the two females speeding toward her falling body. Somehow, out of a reserve of will-power that even she did not know she had, Supergirl managed to propel her body out of the way of a kick, but only to fly directly into a punch. The punch landed square in her face, causing her eyes to water and blood to seep from her nose. The blow blinded her for a moment, and so she could not see the second punch coming, which landed directly upon her right breast. Supergirl moaned weakly as her breasts bounced and trembled from the blow, her body hurtling back toward the other creature. Supergirl clutched at her right breast in pain, leaving her face wide open for another punch to the jaw, which sent her soaring back up into the sky, and into the hands of the males.
“Let’s move into phase two,” she could hear one of the males say, before he drove his knee up between her legs. Supergirl gasped with horror and humiliation as she realized that, in her weakened state, this was an especially vulnerable spot on her body: the blow had sent shock waves through her whole frame, and she moaned as she tried feebly to cover her aching crotch. The creature who had kneed her grabbed her by the hair and looked into Supergirl’s face.
“Your body’s weaknesses will spell your downfall, Kryptonian bitch…”
As he spoke these words he seized Supergirl by the back of her costume and wrapped his whip around her body, tying her up and pinning her arms to her sides. The whip continued to drain her power, and Supergirl could by now barely even hold her head up. The creature held her in the air with her back to him, and then began to knee her repeatedly between the legs. Each blow sent convulsions of pain and weakness through Supergirl’s body. She no longer offered any resistance; she simply hung there as he drove his knee into her crotch over and over again. The other man then began to lash his whip across her breasts and stomach, ripping her costume to shreds and leaving more lacerations over her flesh.
The two females had by now rejoined the males, and they watched with cruel fascination as Supergirl was ravaged. Soon, Supergirl fell unconscious. She simply hung there in the air, the whips draining her of her power, the blows beating her into oblivion. She was finished.
Her opponents, however, were not.
The males then lashed their whips around Supergirl’s ankles, and pulled her legs wide apart. She hung there unconscious, upside down, her legs spread, the tattered remains of her skirt up over her waist. The two females then began to rain punches down upon Supergirl’s exposed crotch, driving their fists and elbows down upon this her most vulnerable spot. The whips continued to drain her. The blows continued to batter her. Supergirl passed in and out of consciousness. Her powers were all but gone. She now felt only her body, its finitude, its vulnerability, its helplessness.
Finally they unraveled the whips from her ankles, and Supergirl felt herself falling. She was barely conscious as she plummeted to the earth, and for a moment she felt grateful that the beating had ceased. She hoped that it was over.
By the time she hit the pavement she was starting to regain a semblance of her senses-but the impact of her body against 8th avenue drove her immediately back into near-unconsciousness. The concrete had cracked and indented where she landed, and she lay there unmoving on her stomach, with traffic coming to a screeching halt all around her.
The four creatures landed around Supergirl’s unconscious body and gazed down at their prey. Supergirl was totally defeated: her powers had been drained, her body had been beaten, her mind had been overwhelmed. She was defenseless.
The creatures pressed their attack.
The four creatures began to stomp down upon Supergirl’s body, driving it further into the pavement, until she was thoroughly embedded therein. Thus rendered immobile, entrapped in the concrete, Supergirl was unable even to move as the males once again began to lash her with their glowing whips: they seemed to take a great delight in lashing the whips over her ass and thighs, shredding her costume and lacerating her flesh even more. Supergirl whimpered and squirmed, but was unable to free herself from the ground. Soon, even her squirming ceased, and she could only lie there as they whipped her. She felt the sting of the whip repeatedly against her ass, and she realized then that they had not only set out to defeat her: they were planning to torture her as well.
Finally one of the females grabbed hold of her hair and ripped her from the road. She held her up so that her feet dangled above the ground. Her arms hung at her sides, her mouth hung open. Blood seeped from her nose and lips, the marks of the whip covered her body. Her costume was in tatters. One of the males approached her and ripped away the rest of her costume, so that she was left only in her bikini bottoms and boots.
“I think she’s been softened up enough-shall we move to stage three?”
“Maybe a little bit more,” said the female that was holding her, as she threw Supergirl down onto her back. She then took hold of Supergirl’s ankles and, spreading her legs apart, began to stomp viciously down upon Supergirl’s exposed crotch, the force of the kicks tearing away at her bikini. Supergirl’s body convulsed with each blow, though she was too weak to muster any defense. She just lay there as the creature pounded her. While the creature continued to kick Supergirl, the other female then began to stomp down upon her exposed breasts, deepening the lacerations made by the whips, and further causing Supergirl’s helpless body to bounce up and down.
“Okay, that’s enough,” said one of the males. “I think she’s been beaten enough. Her body is ready.”
The females halted their attack, and backed away from Supergirl’s defenseless and stripped body. Supergirl moaned softly. The male who had ordered the attack to cease then approached her. He kicked her legs apart and ripped away the final tatters of her bikini bottom. An almost inaudible whimper escaped from her lips.
Supergirl’s eyes were closed, and so she could not see the creature step out of his body suit, revealing a muscular body and a fully erect penis. She did not see the creature kneel down and poise his member right at the orifice between her legs.
But she did feel it when he pushed himself inside her.
Supergirl screamed in agony as the creature drove himself with a savage thrust all the way into her already battered crotch. She tried to sit up, but the creature grabbed hold of her wrists and held her down on the ground. She thrashed wildly, but was no match for the creature’s strength as he continued to fuck her, his huge organ pushing in and out of her body. Her head tossed from side to side as she protested, her voice trembling, tears streaming from her eyes. She was utterly helpless beneath him. Her mind reeled: it was all too much. Here she was: Supergirl, the earth’s great champion, the defender of the innocent, and she was being utterly destroyed. She had been beaten, whipped, humiliated, and now was being raped. Her whole body throbbed; she had no powers left to speak of. If only an hour ago she was unable to fathom what true physicality was-now she experienced nothing but the physical. She was now pure body, her whole existence was her flesh-and it hurt.
“Okay-now!” said the creature that was fucking her.
One of the female creatures immediately produced a small vial containing a white liquid. She knelt down beside Supergirl’s quaking body and, forcing open her mouth, poured the liquid down into her throat. Supergirl swallowed, unaware at this point of what was happening to her.
A few seconds later, everything started to change. The pain suddenly subsided, even though the creature was still raping her. Soon she felt numb all over-except for her loins. She could still feel the creature’s penis penetrating her body, only it was no longer a feeling of horrible pain: it was a different feeling, one almost of pleasure.
“What the hell is happening to me…?!” she moaned as the feelings of pleasure began to intensify. “Oh my god…what….ooohhh!” Supergirl screamed as the feelings once again overwhelmed her consciousness. Her body pervaded her every thought as pleasure filled her mind. The creature began to fuck her harder and faster; he even picked her up off the ground and began fucking her while standing up, his claws sinking into Supergirl’s ass as her body arched back and dangled helplessly above the ground.
“My god, no….no!” Supergirl screamed as the waves of pleasure increased. Her whole frame shuddered with each thrust, her breasts bouncing and her arms flapping with each convulsion. She did not realize it at the time, but she was about to have an orgasm.
“Be ready,” said the other male; “she’s just about ready to go!”
The creature raping her then thrust himself as hard as he could into Supergirl’s helpless body-and that was all she could take. The sensations flowing from her vagina suddenly built up, her whole body tensed, and then was engulfed in a huge explosion of pleasure.
“Now! She’s coming! Do it now!” cried one of the females.
The creature slammed Supergirl down upon the ground and began fucking her furiously, causing her orgasm to intensify even further-until, with a deafening roar, the creature came inside her. Supergirl screamed with unwilling joy, before finally lapsing back into unconsciousness.
“It is done,” said the creature breathlessly as he pulled himself off of Supergirl’s ravished body. “I’m sure we timed it right.”
“Quick,” said the smaller female; “we must bring her to the ship before any of her fellow heroes come to her aid. Surely by now they’re already on their way.”
The other male grabbed Supergirl’s limp body by the hair and launched himself into the sky, the other three following closely behind, making sure that no one was in pursuit. Then, high above the clouds over New York, the four entered a small ship which was hovering there, awaiting their return.
The ship hovered for a moment, and then bolted into space.
When Supergirl opened her eyes, she was lying on her stomach. She felt weak, dizzy, sick to her stomach. She could taste blood in her mouth. She was chained to a table, her arms and legs spread wide. Then the memories came flooding into her mind-the beating, the whipping, the rape, and of course, her orgasm. What has happened to me, she thought. She tried to look around her, but saw nothing but an empty room. A faint humming sound, combined with an occasional feeling of motion, led her to believe that she was in some sort of moving vessel (most likely a flying ship of some sort). She knew that she had been taken captive. Then the feeling of a hand clamping down upon her ass let her know that she was not alone.
“I’m sure you are full of rage, Supergirl,” said a masculine voice behind her, “as well as questions.” The speaker stepped in front of Supergirl, and looked her in the eyes. It was the creature who had raped her. His eyes glowed an eerie green.
“Who…?”
“Who am I?” the creature interrupted. “I am called Shree, but you know nothing of me or my kind, so I suppose it’s irrelevant. Why have I done this to you? I will tell you. My species is a strong one, perhaps the strongest in the galaxy; but we have long ago lost the ability to procreate. Our women, you see, are all barren. Moreover, there are no other creatures in the known universe who have the physical strength to bear our children. As a result, my race has been slowly dying out. It has been my quest to find a creature who could carry a child of mine to term: and I think I’ve found that in you.”
“But…why…why did you…torture me? Why…” Supergirl sputtered through tears.
“I will explain everything. You see, Kryptonian women possess a rather tricky anatomy: after much research, we learned that you are only able to conceive a child if you orgasm during the male’s ejaculation: only then will the sperm be able to enter the necessary conduits to the egg. So we had to find a way to make you have an orgasm. We developed a serum which could hypothetically produce such an effect-but on earth your body is far too powerful; the serum would have proved ineffective under the rays of a yellow sun. Your body was too strong, your mind far too removed from your body for it to have worked. To be perfectly honest, under normal circumstances you are quite incapable of having an orgasm so long as you are on earth. So we had first to weaken you, to intensify your feeling of your body. In order to do that, we had to beat you. Make you feel pain. And so, we came into possession of some Kryptonite-”
“Kryptonite…?” Supergirl was shocked; she had heard of the debilitating effects of Kryptonite from her cousin, but had never come into contact with it herself. Superman had long ago destroyed every last trace of it.
“Well, a synthetic compound, really-but it did the trick. We synthesized it, and then wove the substance into the whips we used against you. It proved rather effective, I’d say…”
Supergirl pulled angrily on the chains that bound her-to no avail.
“You may struggle all you like-I doubt you will be able to escape. And just remember, we have you monitored at all times; if it ever looks like you’re getting your strength back, we might just have to whip you again…”
Supergirl immediately relaxed her arms, fearful of being tortured.
“We will keep you here until we know that you have conceived a child. If I have successfully impregnated you we will move you to a laboratory where we can closely monitor the gestation. If your body manages to give birth to the child…”
“Then will you let me go?”
The creature smiled: “Then you will spend the rest of your life conceiving and having our children…”
He turned and left the room. The sound of the door clanging shut echoed in Supergirl’s mind. For a moment she lay there in the silence, chained naked to a table, her mouth quivering as she pondered her situation. She was helpless. Beaten, raped, used. Her eyes clamped shut, but she was unable to prevent the tears from streaming forth. The sound of her whimpers filled the room.
It would be a sound she would soon become quite accustomed to.