Yes Master

BY : tooshoes
Category: DC Verse Television > SuperGirl
Dragon prints: 12559
Disclaimer: I do not own Supergirl or anything to do with DC. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Kara had never seen Cat Grant cry before. She didn't know it was even possible, and the sight was difficult to bear.

Witnesses saw Cat's son, Carter, being pulled into a car just outside of his private school, and he was not seen again.

There was no ransom call, no parental dispute, no drug connection. But Carter was the son of a powerful woman, and that seemed essential to whatever motive someone might have to kidnap him. It never occured to anyone, not even to Kara, that the kidnapper might really be seeking Supergirl's attention, not Cat Grant's.


It had been only 6 months since Kara revealed her alter ego to the world. At first, the revelation was exhilarating and liberating. A part of her she had kept secret for so long was finally set free. Thoughts and feelings she had kept buried in her subconscious broke through the barriers in her mind, and that felt really good. At first. But when that barrier came down, allowing the hero to surface, the dregs of her soul also slipped through unseen.

Kara's life lately had been tormented by the angst and confusion that comes with being two different people, from two different worlds, struggling to juggle her public personas with her private life. She felt as if her life was fractured, and she could barely recognize herself at times. She teased Winn cruelly. She experimented with crazy fashions. She burned with jealousy over James and Lucy. She was frightened by what she would do for James, if only he would ask. She winced whenever she saw a picture of herself in the news. She felt as though a different girl was hiding behind the image. A girl she hardly knew.

When Carter Grant was kidnapped, Kara felt simultaneously horrified and relieved. Being a hero always seemed to bring Kara's life into focus. The call of duty drowned out all other problems.

James and Winn were staring together at a monitor, replaying security footage at the school, and looking for missed clues. They focused their suspicions on one car briefly caught by a camera. The car was a late model silver or grey Camry. It was totally unremarkable except for twin stickers placed side by side on the rear bumper. The stickers read: "FREEDOM comes from within" and "SHAME comes from within." What made this car especially suspicious was that the license plate appeared to be hand painted.

Winn was shaking his head. "Those words... They must mean something."

Cat was pacing anxiously, while Kara merely stood there, watching them all. She was not good with these kinds of puzzles. That was Winn's thing.

The phone rang at Kara's desk. She was there in a flash, hoping to feel useful, only to find it was a wrong number. As she politely dismissed the caller and hung up the phone, she found a small gift box beside her laptop computer. Her feelings of duty and heroism wavered, as seeing the surprise gift rattled the delicate emotions lying underneath, unexplored.

She opened the box, and found a pair of lovely clip-on earrings and a beautiful necklace with a large crystal gem encased in a silver pendant. A note in the box simply said, "Put these on. I want to see how they look on you."

Kara hesitated. Was this really the time to be trying on jewelry? Cat's son was gone, and the whole office was caught up in the tragedy. But Kara was touched by the gift and did not want this moment to be lost among all the serious concerns of the day. This felt important to her. Who was it from? She smiled, telling herself it must be from James-- which must mean that Kara was more important to James than was Lucy Lane… right?

Kara hurriedly adorned herself with the earrings and necklace, and she indulged for a moment at the mirror. Her heart softened at the sight of her own smile, as the gem sparkled just above her cleavage. James would like that.

Kara returned to find James showing Cat the photos of the Camry. Both were shaking their heads in frustration.

Kara waited patiently for James to look up. She did not expect a big reaction. After all, James had more important things on his mind, now. He could not have anticipated the ill-timing when he had placed the gift on Kara's desk. All she wanted was a simple glance, maybe the hint of a smile, as he looked at her. That would be appropriate, and maybe this momentary diversion would brighten his day just a bit.

But when he finally looked her way, his eyes meant pure business. "Do you think you could recognize this car just by looking out the window? I think I've seen that car before, maybe around here."

Kara hid her disappointment. "Uh, ok, I'll take a look." She walked to the window to look down at the parking lot across the street.

Worries and emotions battled in her heart and mind. Was that all she meant to James now: someone to help get a job done? Was Lucy really that much sexier than she was? Was she too nerdy to get a man? Was she really this selfish and self-absorbed that she could not keep her mind on saving Carter?

As she looked out the window, she was startled to hear a voice in her ear asking, "Do you like them?"

She spun around, looking for the source, but then realized the voice came from the earrings.

The voice continued, "You can talk to me, Supergirl. My ears and eyes are in your necklace."

Kara was immediately alert. She analyzed the voice. It sounded like the voice of a very big man. His tone was friendly, but something was not right. The voice was disguised with a device. Then it was obvious to Kara: the voice was the kidnapper's!

Before Kara could respond to the revelation, the voice warned. "Don't talk to anyone, and never let anyone know you are communicating with me, or the little boy will not live another hour! Don't bother trying to text, because the necklace will jam any device you try to use."

Kara moved closer to the window, facing away from her friends, and whispered, "What do you want?"

"I want for you to do everything I demand of you."

Kara replied firmly. "I don't deal with blackmailers."

"Oh really?" The voice responded. "Well, I don't tolerate the foolish. Just that little act of impertinence warrants a severe response, but maybe you just need a little lesson before you really understand. Listen carefully."

Kara then heard the cries of Carter in her ear, begging for his life. In an instant, Kara's heart melted. She and Winn had babysat for Carter several times, and the boy had a huge crush on Supergirl, which tickled her more than she even admitted to herself. She tensed. Her heroic persona was shattered in an instant, knowing that a careless word from her could end Carter's life. Now she was just a mere girl held captive by the same man who held Carter.

"I'm sorry," She whispered sincerely. "Please don't hurt Carter."

"From now on, you will refer to me as 'Master'." The voice said sternly.

Kara hesitated, then replied quietly, "Yes, Master."

"I want you at my beck and call. You are never to take off the earrings, so I can contact you at my whim. You are to wear the necklace at all times, even in the shower, so I can keep tabs on you."

"How long do you expect me to do this, Master?"

"You would be my slave forever, if I so wished. But I will be charitable. If you please me for, say, three days, I will release the boy, and allow you your freedom again."

"How do I know you will keep your word?" Kara asked, her voice heavy with doubt.

The voice growled and replied sternly, "First, always address me as 'Master', and secondly cut that bitchy voice. Or would you like to hear the boy's desperate cries again?"

"I'm sorry, Master!" Kara replied quickly. "Please don't hurt Carter because of my stupidity!"

"That's better. To answer your question, of course you don't know that I will keep my word, but what choice do you have? Besides, the fancy technology you are wearing will not have power for long, so I think three days will be sufficient. And I really don't care what happens to the boy. It is you that I am most interested in."

"Me?" Kara asked, surprised. This did not sound like an ordinary blackmailing. "How do I concern you...Master?"

"It is not your place to pry about my business. If you break even the smallest of my rules, the boy will lose a finger."

"Sorry, Master," Kara replied, worrying how she could settle his insecurity. Maybe if she could please him, he would stop talking about hurting anyone. "Please forgive me. Is there anything I can do for you now?"

"I'll contact you soon. If I even sense you might be disobeying me, I will cut off one of the child’s fingers." Kara heard crying in the background, just before the receiver clicked.


Kara went about her job, as if she was consumed with the task at hand of finding Carter, but in reality she avoided James and Cat as much as possible. She listened into their conversations from afar, but did not want to be anywhere near them while they discussed the kidnapping, or her jewelry might tip off the kidnapper to their findings. But from what she could hear, her friends did not even have a clue where to start looking.

She felt trapped at her desk. The less she did, the less she would reveal to the kidnapper. She felt very self-conscious, knowing the man behind that voice might be watching right then. Surely he wouldn't be spying all the time, but how would she know when?

With little else to do, she went over the words the disembodied voice had said, and how he had said it. He could care less about money or fame. He didn't even seem motivated by a big cause of any sort. The only thing he seemed to want was her obedience. He repeatedly called Kara his slave, and himself her master. Was this some kind of kinky sexual power trip he was on? Or maybe this was revenge for some humiliation he received at the hands of Supergirl. Either scenario was alarming.

Despite all the threats and bluster, Kara suspected her "master" was not really wishing her or anyone serious harm. Maybe Kara was being foolish. Maybe she was already becoming a victim of Stockholm syndrome, but she did not hate him. There was something in his voice and in his curious equivocations. He was after something personal. Something told her that if she just played along, everything would be alright.

But she could not share her optimism with Cat, when she barged into Kara's workspace.

"So this is where you have been hiding!" Cat accused quite correctly.

Kara was dumbstruck, struggling to think of words she could say that both Cat and the voice would find acceptable, so instead she simply said, "Sorry, I have just been googling about for clues."

Cat waved her fingers at her dismissively. "Just leave the idle thinking and web searching to us mere mortals. I am sure there is something you can do flying around with those eyes and ears."

Kara frowned, “You don’t still think…”

“Oh, I admit that was quite a trick you pulled. As far as I know, maybe you can create illusions, but one thing I know you can’t pull off is a convincing lie.” Cat turned to meet Kara's eyes, her own eyes filled with tears, and she said softly, "Please, what are you waiting for, please save my son!"

Kara nodded. There was nothing more she could say. In a blur, she changed into the girl of steel and flew out of an open window into the afternoon sky.


As soon as she took flight, she heard the voice in her ear. "Very good. But of course you are not going anywhere except where I say."

Supergirl said firmly, "Where do you want me to go, Master?"

"I'll tell you when I am good and ready," was the reply.

After a pause, Kara swallowed her pride and replied meekly, "Ok, Master, please let me know if I can do anything to make you happy."

The voice was very pleased, "Very good! Just for being a thoughtful little slave, I will let you do whatever you like for a while."

"Thank you Master," Kara replied, and she felt uneasy because she actually felt a twinge of satisfaction in pleasing him.

She felt guilty that she was not looking for the boy, as she had promised Cat Grant, but she was helping her son simply by not looking for him, so knowing that made Kara feel better.

She patrolled the sky for good measure. It was a slow day, so she could not find even a cat to rescue from a tree.

After flying around for a half hour, she decided to go home to call James. Maybe she could think of some way to communicate with him without talking, and without him giving anything away. The microphone was in her necklace, the voice had told her. Did that mean her master could not hear what was being said to her on the phone, if she kept the volume low? Maybe she could use that knowledge somehow. Did she dare try?

She slipped inside her apartment unnoticed. Shortly after landing, the voice returned, surprising her. "That was a nice flight," the voice said pleasantly.

Kara had almost forgotten that he might be following her movements, and she shuddered. "Oh, don't startle me like that! It feels creepy!"

A brief pause.

Then the voice said. "That was very rude. I guess it's time to take the boy's finger."

Then she heard a child crying in her ear.

"No! Please!" Kara pleaded, panicky. "I'm so sorry, I just forgot for a moment! Please let me make it up to you... Master!"

"We can't have discipline without consequences. But maybe I can accept less. Do you admit you were being selfish?"

"Yes, Master, I was only thinking of myself. I ... I want to please you."

"Go to the mirror," the voice instructed. After a pause, "What do you say?"

Kara swallowed, "Yes, Master.

Kara felt uncomfortable, guessing where this was going, but she walked to a large, pivoting floor mirror in the bedroom. She prepared for the voice asking for her to undress, but he wasn't quite that blunt. "Take off those awful boots and stockings."

"Yes Master."

Kara slipped out of both, careful to not raise her skirt too high.

"Now the shorts," he insisted, "and show some enthusiasm."

Kara was deeply embarrassed and ashamed, as she tried to oblige. "Would you like to watch, Master?"

The voice was both surprised and pleased. "Yes, you are a very good servant!"

Kara pulled her skirt up, revealing blue shorts underneath. She lowered the shorts, letting them fall to her ankles, and then kicking them loose. She wore a pair of kinky black lace panties underneath. After a pause, her face covered over in a blush as she shimmied down the panties in a rather tantalizing way, revealing a perfectly bare pussy.

"What a slut you are, hiding that polished gem from everyone," the voice sounded excited. "But I can barely see."

Kara felt both tickled and weakened by the compliment. "I'll let you look closer, Master." She lifted her leg into the air, giving him a clear view, but she struggled to keep her balance.

"Closer!" the voice demanded, with heavy breathing. He sounded younger, more excited. Was he jerking off? "I want to see that cunny up close."

"Anything for you, Master." The fight in her all but disintegrated. Kara hesitated for a moment, deciding how to oblige. Finally, she removed the necklace and positioned the hidden camera only inches from her pussy.

"More!" the voice insisted shakily. He was jerking off hard and fast, she thought.

"I'll let you see inside, Master," she replied, hating herself, because this was really turning her on, and she didn't know why. Her pussy was gushing with juices like a squeezed peach. As with everything else about her, she had a super sexual response. She reclined on the bedroom floor, legs spread eagle, spreading her pussy lips open wide with one hand while holding the camera inches away with the other. She wanted to see what he was seeing, so she pivoted the mirror slightly down using one toe. She could see the pink deep in her pussy, with juices flowing down to her purplish asshole. Looking higher, she could see her face flushed with heat and passion. Her heart was cracking under the pressure of this mind rape, but she crushed that rebellion with all the lust she could muster. She was such a terrible liar, so to keep that child alive, the feelings she expressed had to be real. She needed for the voice to know how much she was enjoying this. She moaned in pleasure, as she fucked herself with her fingers, and rubbed her clit. She felt like if she kept this up, she would come as well. Her chest was heaving, and her nipples were like little diamonds, and she longed to massage them, if only she had a free hand.

But the voice groaned loudly in her ear, and she realized he had come already. She had to pull back, or maybe she would upset him.

"I hope I made you happy, Master," she said, breathing heavily, trying to cool down her emotions.

"Yes, that was very nice, my servant," the voice sounded grateful, but then suddenly turned stern, sounding much older again. "But I did not give you permission to remove the necklace."

Kara panicked, "Oh, so sorry, Master, I only wanted to please you!"

"Apology accepted this time, but don't let it happen again."

"Of course, never again. Thank you, Master," Kara sighed. She closed her eyes for a moment and took an inventory of her emotions. Sure, logically, everything she had done, she did to keep the boy safe. And she really tried to enjoy what she was doing, because she knew it would help appease him. But she succeeded in enjoying this TOO much. She should have been able to act convincingly without feeling. But she knew she was a terrible actor and a terrible liar. Did she dare half-ass her performance? No, if she failed to please him, maybe he would kill Cat's son. No, she really needed to feel this way to keep the child alive. But the fact that she succeeded so well, feeling these regrets only after the fact, made her feel incredibly guilty.

"You have done well, my servant," the voice said, "Now go out and be a superhero for a while and help some people."

"Thank you, sir!" Kara smiled. That would make her feel better about herself. She reached for her panties, but the voice suddenly interrupted. "Leave them there, as well as the tights and boots. Go out as you are."

Kara paused and looked at the necklace in the mirror, and said, "Excuse me, Master?"

"You heard me," the voice replied mischievously. "Maybe you'll give someone else a thrill like you have given me."

"Yes, Master," Kara replied, struggling to replace her hesitation with enthusiasm, "I would like that." She took a few steps in her bare feet, opened the door and flew up into the sky.

It was sunset, so there was little chance for anyone to get an eyeful as she flew, but she still felt exposed and excited, maybe because her master had not let her come, and the air rushing under her skirt tickled her pussy.

What did it matter what people saw, anyway? Surely her master was watching her on a computer. Surely he had recorded everything so far. The cat was out of the bag. Or the pussy was out of skirt. Her dignity was shot. What more could he do to her?

She had only flown about five minutes when she saw two gangs of boys maneuvering to fight each other, about 10 boys in all. She was going to fly by, feeling too embarrassed to intervene in her current state, but the voice interrupted. "What are you doing? No job should be too small for you. Break up this fight."

"Yes, Master."

"Don't try to fly down in a weird way, or hold your skirt closed. Fly like you normally would, and let what happens happen."

"Ok, Master."

Kara flew down with one leg straight, and the other slightly bent, while her skirt fluttered about. Usually, a couple of elastics on her shorts kept the skirt from flying open, but with the shorts and tights gone, her skirt lifted all the way up, giving a clear visual path to both her pussy and her ass. She hoped the boys were so consumed by the fight they were preparing for that they wouldn't see her until she was on the ground. But a few OMGs and a catcall proved her under-dressed arrival did not go unnoticed.

Kara's face felt so warm, she knew she must have looked like she was blushing. No, don't lie to yourself, she thought, you ARE blushing. She felt like she was blushing from head to toe.

"There is no reason to fight, boys," She said, reciting a line she said often in these circumstances. But feeling the way she was feeling, it came out sounding like a sexual invitation.

The boys were dumbfounded and speechless. One of the boys was adjusting his collar.

"Give them something to make them forget their fight," the voice coaxed. Supergirl hesitated, then the voice continued, "Don't fuck them. Just fuck with their heads a little."

Supergirl nodded, as if the voice could see that, and she walked up to the boy that seemed most excited by her presence. She grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him close. "Give love a chance," she said in the most sultry voice she could manage, and then kissed him seductively on the lips.

A few boys looked embarrassed and moved away. Kara could sympathize. But other boys moved closer. She grabbed the hand of a boy from the other gang, and put it on her hip. She put another boy's hand on her chest, and threw her head back as yet another boy reached around her from behind, and stroked her throat.

Another hand reached under her skirt and squeezed her bare ass. Supergirl tensed, wondering how far she really needed to go.

"Ok, you've given them enough," the voice said, sounding jealous, then laughing, "I think they've learned their lesson."

Supergirl squirmed out of their grasp. She felt drunk and strangely happy at the big tease. She felt no guilt or shame at all. She said in a sultry voice, "See boys, there are other things to do in life than fight. Behave yourselves, and maybe next time I'll let you pass first base."

She blew them a kiss, and she slowly hovered over them, knowing that they were squinting for just a glimpse, before picking up speed and flying away.

"Nice touch at the end, my little slave," the voice complimented her.

"Oh, thank you Master, that was so exciting," Kara said, and she really meant it. She didn't need to embellish. The voice would have been satisfied with less, yet a playfulness was awakened in her. Maybe the shame would come later, and the good girl was throwing a tantrum somewhere in her brain, but right now she felt a nervous thrill rushing through her body.

"You have pleased me, so you may take the rest of the evening off, and do as you wish, but remember I always have an eye on you."

Then the voice went quiet, and Kara felt oddly disappointed. He left her unfulfilled. Without her master to command her, her conscience returned to fill the void left by the missing voice, and her conscience was far harsher than the voice of her master. Her conscience was inescapably logical and a prophet of doom. It told her how weak minded she was, how slutty and lustful, how selfish, how stupid, how much she might have fucked up her friendships and reputation. But after all of that, her conscience could not condemn her, because it had no other answer to what to do for Carter. As much as she felt guilty for all the pleasure she felt, all of the consequences were necessary sacrifices. Should she really beat herself up for doing the only things, and feeling the only feelings, that would save a child's life? She should feel totally justified, yet it all felt like a lie, like this was all an excuse for her to explore the most debased part of her mind.

The voice left her alone until bedtime. She wore the earrings and necklace to bed, as he demanded. She tossed and turned, as all of the thoughts of what she did today, even fears of what her master might make her do tomorrow, got her excited. She felt guilty, but maybe if she could just get herself off, she could think clearly again. She touched her clit and massaged it, imagining what might have happened with those boys if she kept going. She imagined one of those boys was James. Then she started to moan.

Suddenly, the voice was back. "Who said you could play with yourself?" he said sternly.

Kara stopped immediately and sat up. "Sorry, Master, is that not ok?"

"Your body is my play thing for two more days, and you are not allowed to enjoy my toys without permission."

Then silence. Kara tossed and turned all night, aching for release.

She awoke early. She took a quick shower, and was careful to not enjoy herself too much. Then she settled with a bowl of cereal in front of the TV, and she turned on the local news with some trepidation. She didn't know what she expected to see, but was pleased that no video was leaked of her bedroom, and no candid photo or report came from her “heroic” intervention between two gangs. Was she in the clear? She felt a strange sense of wonder and pleasure at what had happened.

As she sipped her coffee, the voice returned.

"Rise and shine, naughty girl, we have a busy day ahead of us," the voice said, then teased: "Did I leave you feeling all annoyed and frustrated last night?"

"I'm sorry, Master, I was weak last night, but I feel much more in control of myself now."

"No, no, no, we can't have that. Do you have a vibrator?"

"No, Master, sorry."

The voice paused for a moment, then, "Do you have an electric toothbrush?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then you DO have a vibrator. Anything can be a sex toy. Go get it."

Kara did as she was told. Now she was standing in front of the small mirror in the bathroom.

The voice instructed: "Put the smooth back of the brush against your clit, and have at it, slave."

"Shouldn’t I take off my clothes, Master?" Kara offered.

"How very kind of you to offer," the voice sounded sincere. "But not now, just tickle that kitten through the pajamas. I want to see your face while you squirm."

Kara nodded. That request sounded more intimate than sexual, and then she realized she didn't mind being intimate with him. Kara knew he could see her through the mirror. She bit her lip, leaned back against the wall, and gasped slightly when the vibration focused all of her feeling into a tiny point of her body. Did she gasp for effect? she wondered for a moment. It seemed like the smart thing to do. But no, she could not deny that she was truly and completely into this, and she wanted for him to see how much. She would not question those feelings or the wisdom of letting it show. She was doing the right thing, so why not lose herself in the role? She gazed longingly at the mirror, and at the little camera below her face's reflection. She could see what he saw. She saw herself breathing heavily, her mouth open, her eyes closing to a slit.

She couldn't hear him. She wondered what he was doing. Was he jerking off while looking at her face? That made her feel foolishly tender towards him, as though he was doing all of this out of love, and this was the only way he knew how to express himself. She allowed herself to imagine watching him in front of her, a faceless man, with a throbbing dick eager for her touch. She closed her eyes, imagining her mouth on his dick, letting him push all the way to her throat. Her free hand moved over left breast, squeezing and stroking the nipple through the fabric. She arched her back, and her moans were getting louder.

When suddenly, loudly, the voice returned: "Stop!"

Kara felt her whole body shake. She had been revving her engine really hard, but then dropped it roughly into gear. "Oh fuck!" she cried, as her engine abruptly stalled.

"Much better," the voice said cruelly. "Now we are ready to start the day."

Kara was still shuddering, trying to collect her feelings, and he let her have a moment before continuing. Her face was red with passion and anger at his constant denials, but as she cooled a little, she realized how much worse he could be. He could do anything to her, but all he wanted was to play some mildly kinky games? Was he starting to like her?

Fuck, why did that make her feel hot for him?

"Ready? Now I want to do a little deconstruction of that goody two-shoes mystique you've been play-acting for the world," he said, sounding very much like one of Kara's teachers from high school for a moment. And she felt as nervous as she felt just before a pop quiz. "I'm sure being admired feels good sometimes, but is that really you? Wouldn't it be fun to be a little naughty every once in a while?"

Kara hesitated. How should she respond? Tell the truth, that being a hero was a wonderful life? Or was that even really the truth? She was feeling a very different truth now. No, she was letting him get to her. The more she said what he wanted her to say, the more her mind started to believe it. God, what a sick mind fuck this was, like she was being brainwashed. She felt a curse linger on her lip. A moment of rebellion. But then she remembered that even that small act of freedom would cost a child his finger, so finally she answered uncertainly, "Oh, Master, I don't know."

"Well, let me assure you, I know. I've been watching you for longer than you think. I've seen what you do in private. In fact, I know you have a real vibrator that you use almost every night, but I let you live the lie for a moment longer: that you are some kind of virginal bitch, but we both know that super pussy makes you super horny as well, don't we?"

Kara started crying, suddenly ashamed and angry and afraid. She suddenly knew what he wanted. He didn't just want to take some dirty pictures. He didn't just want to play sexy games. He wanted to tear her life down and expose her very soul. Who the fuck was he? He knew her so well, how could she hope to get the best of him? "No!" she suddenly yelled in defiance.

She heard a little muttering, as though he was talking to someone. Then a long, pregnant pause.

Giving time for Kara to consider what she might have just done. The vision of a boy screaming as his finger is cut off, or worse, triggered the hero in her, and she collected herself. "I'm so sorry, Master; I don't know what I want. Please tell me what you want. That is what I want."

"Good answer. What I want is to make some changes to your costume. Go get it, slave, and some scissors and any other fabric you have. But leave the underwear in the drawers."

Kara knew where this was going. She was anxious, but she did not hesitate. She retrieved her real costume, plus a few experimental costumes, and whatever fabrics she had lying around. She carried everything to the living room where she could hold them up to the floor mirror, so the voice could see. She held up an experimental top that was a little daring. It looked pretty much like her real costume top, except the fabric was thin and loose. Maybe that would be enough to please him.

"Interesting," the voice said. "Put it on so I can see."

Kara dropped the pajamas as shyly as she possibly could, leaving herself completely nude, and then squeezed into the loose top. If he looked closely, he could see that her nipples were clearly defined to either side of the giant S in the middle, but the shirt looked family friendly compared to her exposed body beneath it.

"You'll raise eyebrows with that shirt, but you won't raise any cocks. Take it off and cut off everything below the S."

"Yes Master," Kara obliged, and she carefully cut the fabric as straight and level as she could without a guide, then slipped back into it. Now her belly was bare right up to the bottom of her breasts, and when she moved, the lower curve of her unsupported breasts dipped slightly into view. Kara smiled slyly. She had to admit the extreme cropped top looked pretty hot, though was a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.

"I see you approve," the voice said, noting her admiring smile. "Maybe we should stop there, and that would be your new costume, wearing nothing else."

Kara's jaw dropped. "Master, I ... I"

"You weren't about to object, were you?"

Kara shrugged and looked defeated.

The voice laughed. "Don't worry, I want you to push the boundaries to their limits, not jump overboard. But we must do something about that skirt. Let me see the fabrics."

Kara still had all of the fabrics she bought from when she had made her costume a few months ago, and she held each one up one by one for the voice to judge. He loudly booed at a long blue skirt. He said "meh" to a tight black skirt; Kara had thought he would like that one. But when she held up a red sheer gauze fabric, which she had originally meant for a cute cape, he enthusiastically said, "that's the one."

Kara's mouth hung wide open, and she said, "How is that not going overboard? It's like looking through a red tinted window!"

"You don't like it, my slave?" The voice asked patiently.

"Sorry, Master," Kara remembered her place. She held the fabric in front of her pussy and looked through the mirror. Her labia were clearly visible even in subdued light, but the color looked nice. "It's very daring and pretty," she admitted, trying to sound enthusiastic again.

"Then let's get ready for some daring new adventures for Supergirl," the voice said with some pep. He then proceeded to describe tailoring instructions that would make a fashion designer proud. The usual yellow belt was now sewn to gentle folds of the sheer material. Kara slipped into her new skirt. The hem fell just an inch below her pussy, and the folds obscured the view slightly. With the rest of the sheer material, they designed a new cape that barely fell below her skirt. As a final touch, she donned some cute red slippers. Looking herself over in the mirror, she was surprised to see a smile on her face. It was daring indeed. Even Miley Cyrus might reject it as going too far. But damn if Kara didn't look hot wearing it!

"Mmmm, Mmm, looking delish!" The voice responded, as Kara showed off playfully in the mirror. She curtsied at the compliment. "Let us show off the new you at the Kindling Klub."

Kara instinctively tried to cover herself. Her master had been so kind and complimentary and fun the past hour, she had actually started to share his fantasies. All of the sexual stimulation with no release had made her horny as hell. But his mention of the Kindling Klub brought her back to reality. "Do I really have to go to a strip club, Master?"

"This morning, I imagined you in central park putting on quite a show for a national audience," the voice said teasingly. "Imagine the fallout of that! But you were being such a good sport, I thought you earned a little fun at a strip club, instead."

Just a minute ago, Kara was getting really turned on, because this was feeling like a game. But now she thought of everyone who might see her and who would be disappointed in her. The pictures and even videos would live on the internet forever, whether recorded in the bright sunlight in a public park, or in the subdued lights of a strip bar. But Kara could not argue which was the more appropriate venue; that was obvious. "Thank you, Master, sorry I questioned you."

Once she submitted to her fate, shame welled up and broke through her composure. She fell to her knees. The shame turned her on, and being turned on made her feel more ashamed. It did not matter anymore if he was forcing her to do this. It didn't matter if she had no other logical choice. All that mattered was that she was giving in and allowing herself to live the fantasy she was starring in. It felt like it was her choice. It felt like she wanted this, and it tore her apart. Tears rolled down her face.

"Oh come on now, am I really that mean?" the voice asked, sounding sincere. "You act so demure, but deep down you are a minx. You love to flirt. You always wanted for people to look at you, to desire you, but family and friends made you believe it was bad to seek attention. Being a superhero was the only way to feed that appetite, and still feel good about yourself. But deep down, freed from judgements and taboos, you really want this, don't you?"

Kara wiped her tears and nodded her head. What else could she do? "Yes, Master."

And admitting that somehow made her feel better, as though admitting made it true-- as though her master would take all of the shame and conflict upon himself, if only she would let him lead her to a freer state of mind.

But just when she felt like she was experiencing something profound, her master dumped the fantasy into the gutter.

"I want to do something nice for you," the voice said playfully, sounding younger and immature. "Lie down on the rug. Don't move the camera; I can see you from here. Open your legs. Oh fuck, your pussy is so wet and pink, you must feel so fucking messed up. Here, let me get naked with you. Close your eyes. Can you imagine me? I'm holding my dick. All of this Slave and Master shit is making me so hard. I'm zooming in on you. Open your cunny with both hands, and let me see inside. Fuck yeah, I have the hottest slave in the world. Oh fuck, I can't believe how wet you are. Spread some of that around. Oh yeah. Push up your top and spread some of that super juice on your tits. Oh yeah. Squeeze that tit while you rub your clit. Oh yeah, yeah, OH, OH... UGH. I'm coming all over your tits. You look like you are getting close. Rub a little faster. Faster. STOP!"

Kara felt numb all over, except her pussy and nipples pulsed with the hungriest of aches. How often would he torture her like this? Her back twisted as if in agony, and she rolled onto her side.

"Hey was it good for you, too?" Her master said, laughing.

Kara groaned. She felt a burst of anger, and then ashamed that the only thing that made her feel angry was that he wouldn't let her come.

Then she had the strangest thought: Did male superheroes ever have to deal with shit like this?

The voice let her collect herself for a moment, and then said, "Fuck that innocent act. Time to show the world what Supergirl is really made of."


It was mid-afternoon on a Friday. The Kindling Klub was not exactly hopping when Supergirl arrived, but her Master made her fly low and slow, then circling the establishment several time before landing in the parking lot. Many eyes glimpsed a lot of skin and legs. She was drawing patrons to the strip club like a magnet.

A bouncer greeted Supergirl inside. As soon as he saw her, he seemed to forget all about his job, and he began snapping photos with his cell phone.

"Forget him," said her master, "Just walk inside."

She stepped pass the inner door and around a few tables, and was not very impressed. There was one girl dancing on a big stage for the pleasure of a pair of fat middle-aged men, plus two more men drinking at the bar, looking like they were permanent fixtures.

A well-dressed man approached Supergirl from behind the bar. "Well, I didn't believe the call, but here you are, honey," he said, smiling as he looked her over. "And just as hot as promised."

"Can I dance?" she asked, as prompted by her master.

He gestured toward the big stage with both arms, and then thumbed towards the girl already there to get off. "It's all yours, angel. Do whatever you like. Do you have a playlist?"

Supergirl looked puzzled for a moment, then said, "No, but if you can, please play something slow and intimate."

"You got it." He headed out back with a big smile, but he was also anxious, perhaps wondering how he would manage the crowd now gathering at the entrance in Supergirl's wake.

Supergirl walked up to the stage, and then just stopped.

"What are you waiting for?" her master asked.

"What do I do?" Kara replied nervously. "I can barely dance a waltz. I have no idea how to strip."

"Get on the stage and just be sexy to anyone you see. Lie on the floor and finger yourself, if you want. From what I've seen the last two days, you are a natural at being sexy, if you just open up to it. Besides, those people who are following you in don't care to see a dancer fucking a pole. They want to see Supergirl being a slut, and the more of an amateur you are, the better."

Kara took a deep breath and climbed the stage. She shuffled around randomly, while men and a few women poured into the building, all wide eyed and excited, and she suddenly had stage fright. She was now committed to doing this. She would top the next few news cycles no matter what she did now, so she stopped worrying about whether this was right or wrong. She just wanted good reviews. If she was going to be a stripper, she didn't want to be a joke. She wanted the news to read that she was a fucking star!

The music finally kicked in, starting very slowly with Hozier's "Take Me To Church"—the perfect song to get Kara into the mood. She laid down on the stage like she was waking from sleep. Her sheer skirt hid nothing from view, as she stretched her legs out, and then lifted her ass slightly into the air with her back arched. After a moment, she quickly rolled over, legs spread wide eagle. She admired the growing crowd of spectators, as they admired her moistening pussy.

"You are a natural," her master complimented her. "They are eating you up."

She whispered back, confused: "How can you tell, Master? The necklace is bouncing around so much."

"I have more eyes now," he replied, enigmatically.

Did he mean he was there? Kara quickly glanced around, wondering if she could spot him. She began crawling around the stage with her ass gyrating in the air as if she was a cat in heat. She crawled inches away from every lucky spectator in the front row, looking for that one mysterious man. Dollar bills followed in her wake. After almost a full circuit, she paused at the sight of a $100 bill. She felt flattered. And damn did she ever feel horny, now. She looked up to see whoever paid the ante. Could this be her master? It didn't matter, for $100 she would be his slave for a moment, if all he wanted was to see her pleasure herself.

It was Winn. She felt a shudder through her body at the revelation. She had never suspected, but then suddenly it made sense. She remembered all of the talk of sex toys; Winn liked toys. And Winn was a very good at making clothes. Had she driven him to seek revenge for all of her teasing? Had he suffered too long in her friend zone? But now he had taken control. Now she saw a new side of him, and it turned her on. Or maybe she was just so turned on now that nothing else mattered.

Kara sat facing him, her legs spread, and then she grabbed her "S" symbol with both hands and tore it completely off, freeing her breasts with a bounce. She kicked the red slippers off of her feet. Now, except for a nearly invisible cape and miniskirt, she was naked. He could see everything she had held back from him for so long. Now she was all his. She lay back, squeezing a breast with one hand and stroking and dilating her swelling pussy with another.

"Oh Master," she breathed, "do you want me?"

Winn smiled, "Uh … is this a trick question?"

"Come take me!" Kara pleaded, urging him on stage with her.

Winn hesitated.

"Then kiss me," Kara said, turning her body on the stage so her face was almost in Winn’s lap. "I know this is not how you imagined it, but out of all of these men, you are the only one I want, Master."

Winn cradled Kara's head in his hands, shut out the rest of the strip club from his mind, and kissed her as deeply and lovingly as he had always dreamed of.

Kara continued masturbating aggressively where the entire club could see, but she could only see Winn now in her mind. All of her moans were for him. The love juice flowing onto the stage was for him. When he took a quick breath between kisses, she cried out, "Oh Winn, my Master!"

Suddenly, the voice in her ear said, "Wait... you think this guy is your master?"

Kara barely registered the voice. "Why not?" She took one of Winn's hands from her head, carried it to her breast and held it there, while working her clit and holes vigorously with the other hand.

"Stop!" the voice said.

Kara squirmed and moaned ever louder.

"STOP!" the voice insisted.

Kara swatted the earrings from her head like she'd swat away flies, and explored Winn's mouth with her tongue, while her hips bucked, her toes curled, and an explosion of pleasure like none other shot like waves of electricity through her body. "Oh, Master! Oh, Master!" She cried repeatedly, and then went back to kissing him some more.

Cheers erupted throughout the club. The many videos that would later flood the blogs and porn sites would testify that nothing compared to a Kryptonian girl's orgasm.

Supergirl orgasmed countless times over several minutes, before finally falling off the stage onto Winn's lap, totally drained. For just a moment, her eyes cleared up, as though coming out of a trance, but the reality of what faced her this side of utter sexual abandon was too much for her to handle, and she fell unconscious.

A waitress patted Winn on the back once the show was over. "Best $100 you ever spent!" She said, laughing. But it was clear to all that something special happened between Supergirl and her mystery man Winn that had nothing to do with the money that scattered uncollected along with hundreds of other bills spread across the stage.

A few men, bitter for not getting a piece of Supergirl's pie, tried to drag the unconscious Kara from Winn's embrace, but other men came to her defense. While Supergirl's reputation was quickly undergoing a radical revision, the throng who had followed her into the bar still remembered her heroism and ensured that Winn could carry her out of the club safely. One of the other dancers even gave up a robe to cover her with, and the manager helped Winn carry her out to his car. Winn drove a circuitous route to his home, occasionally casting an admiring glance at his angel, who was still without blemish in his mind.


Several hours later, Kara stirred awake on a sofa in Winn's home, still wearing the robe from the strip club. A TV in front of her was showing the news, and naturally she was the top story. She saw James, Alex and Winn all chatting in the next room, when Cat walked in to join them.

The sight of Cat made her panic, as her memory flooded back. She remembered her master’s last words in her ear, demanding that she stop what she was doing. Her memory of what happened after that wasn't entirely clear, but she was very sure she did not stop.

She jumped from her seat, but was uncertain what to do. All she could do was blurt out, "Carter! Oh my God, what have I done?"

Winn rushed in from the other room, shushing her to calm down. "Carter is OK. He was returned a couple of hours ago, and he wanted to be here when you woke up. He is asleep in the next room."

Kara felt lost. How long had she been out? Why weren't they biting her head off already?

Alex followed just behind Winn. Her face was sober and judging. "Carter told us what happened, and how you saved his life by submitting to some crazed man's fantasies," she said, then continued while shaking her head: "But really, Kara, you should have let us help you somehow. You should have sent a signal. This is why being a hero is so dangerous."

Kara nodded, agreeing, willing to confess that she handled it all wrong, but for the life of her, she still didn’t how she could have handled it differently. At least, she could have tried not to enjoy it so much.

Cat followed in, complaining. "Do you realize what you have done? You might have destroyed CatCo in one day. You were the image of the company. We had positioned you as a positive role-model for young girls. But I guess we can control some of the damage when we tell the world you were only trying to save my son."

"No!", Kara said, shaking her head to Cat's bemusement. "I mean, I can't take back what I did now, but I'd rather people think I'm super naughty than think they can blackmail me so easily."

Cat then shrugged as only she could do. "Well, I guess the company can transition to pornography. Really I don't care anymore." She walked up to Kara and hugged her tight. "Thank you so much for saving Carter."

Kara smiled awkwardly, but she was still confused. After all, she never followed through with the blackmailer’s demands. She had blown it. Why had her master let Carter go?

She looked at the only person remaining in the other room. James smiled her way, letting her know he was glad she was ok, but then he turned away, crushing her heart. She understood why he felt that way. She wouldn't blame him if he never forgave her.

Winn moved to her side, holding some of her work clothes. "Alex brought these," he explained. "I could have put ... I mean I've seen everything already... but I thought you would want to put these on yourself."

Kara smiled. Even after everything she had done, and after everything he had seen her do, she was still the same girl he had always loved, in his eyes. She kissed him gently on the lips. This was their first real kiss; that other one didn’t count. You've earned your way out of the friend zone, she thought. "Thank you, Winn."

Out of the corner of her eye, Kara saw Maxwell Lord's image juxtaposed with a censored photo of Supergirl stripping. While Winn ventured into a romantic embrace with the girl he had always pined for, Kara watched Lord intently.

"This is what I've been saying for months now," he said like a politician. "These Kryptonians are not good for society and are terrible role models. We have treated them like they are guardian angels or some kind of mythic figures that exemplify our hopes and dreams. Supergirl has charmed us with good deeds, and yes I am grateful that she saved even my life at one time, but after today, we can all see what Supergirl is really made of."

Those last few words almost knocked Kara over, and not just because they were insulting. They were the same words her master had used before sending her to the Kindling Klub. Suddenly the clues were obvious: The high technology and surveillance. Testing her limits. Delighting in her failures. Everything screamed: Maxwell Lord. Even his name sounded like "master".

A flame of anger was growing in Kara, directed partly at Max and partly at herself for not suspecting him sooner.

Then Cat entered the room with her son Carter, who was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Kara's heart warmed as she embraced him. Suddenly she realized that he knew her secret identity, too. Could she even call it a secret anymore? Kara stroked his hair lovingly and asked how he was doing.

"Good," he replied simply, then, "oh, and thank you for saving me, that was really scary."

Kara was amused by his curious understatement to what had happened. "You seem to be taking this really well."

"Well, I knew you would save me," he said matter-of-factly, and then he leaned in as if to kiss her on the cheek, but instead whispered in her. "Oh, and don't tell anyone, but Mr. Lord really isn't that into you, so he let me play master when things got really hot."

Kara's eyes bulged, as Carter's 13-year-old hand reached into her robe and squeezed a tit. Kara pulled back. Carter smiled then turned to his oblivious mom and asked if they could go home now.

Kara sat down with a blank stare on her face. Was there any innocence left in her life? Kara wondered, as Carter’s secret words and the memory of his touch began to turn her on. She shivered in disgust at herself. She vowed to never cross that line, then felt guilty for even needing to make such a vow. Damn, how did her perversion dial get turned up so high?


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