The Chattel Girl

BY : tooshoes
Category: DC Verse Television > SuperGirl
Dragon prints: 1804
Disclaimer: I do not own Supergirl, nor the characters or any story elements from TV show. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

First Chapter image:

I don’t dream at all. It’s more like I’m dead than I’m asleep. Then I feel something. Anxiety. I don’t know where it comes from, so I open my eyes.

I’m in a dimmed room, surrounded by equipment and strapped to a gurney. At first, I think it’s a hospital, but it looks more like a prison. Everything is bathed with an orange glow.  I’m still wearing my costume.  I try to move but I can’t. I feel terrible. My breast and my thigh throb where the darts struck me. The restraints on my ankles and wrists irritate my skin. I fight against them, but the restraints dig into my skin, hurting me more, so I panic.

“Help!” I call out. “Somebody, please! Help me!”

I hear footsteps, and a moment later, a black man is standing beside the bed looking at me.

For a second, I think I understand: The gang members, or whatever they are, have kidnapped me and brought me to their lair.

My skirt is hiked up, and I frantically try to cover my pussy, but the restraints won’t allow it. I am completely at his mercy.

“Please, sir!” I beg tearfully. “Please let me go.”

He rolls his eyes and reaches over me. I tense up, expecting him to rape me, and I don’t want that anymore.

But he merely unfastens the restraints.

“Oh, thank you, sir!” I say as I cautiously sit up.

Now, I can see him clearly. Other than being black, he looks nothing like the men who assaulted me. He’s older, better groomed, and looks very professional.

“Who are you?” I ask while I look around the giant room. It looks like a military installation. “How did I get here?”

“I am Director Henshaw, and this is the Department of Extranormal Operations,” he replies. “We brought you here before you could make an even bigger fool of yourself. You really are pathetic. CatCo is calling you Supergirl, but they should rethink giving you the honor of that name, because photos of you are already trending, Miss Danvers.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologize pathetically. I look at myself. I don’t like what I see. “How do you know my name?”

“We know a lot more than that, Kara,” he explains and then turns to the woman approaching from out of my view, “courtesy of your sister, agent Alex Danvers.”

I feel a new level of humiliation at the mention of Alex’s name. When I see her face, I shrink and inch backward on the gurney until I feel a cold bar press against my back, I pull my knees up to my chest, covering myself with my legs in a fetal position. “What are you doing here?” I whine.

“Saving you from yourself,” Alex says coldly. “Not that you deserve it, but you had to be stopped.”

“I’m sorry,” I offer again, my face covered in tears.

“That’s not good enough!” Alex shouts. “You are so reckless, dishonest and irresponsible! You didn’t think of anyone but yourself! Now, you’ve disgraced both of your families and exposed yourself to the world! You’ve created a disaster!”

“I don’t care if people think I’m a slut!” I hiss like a cat backed into a corner.

“We don’t care about that, either,” Director Henshaw says. “Sluts are a dime a dozen. But you are a chattel girl – a very dangerous kind of slut. Even worse, you have come out of the shadows, which is what the avengers from Fort Rozz have been waiting for.”

“Fort Rozz?” I ask, confused. I can’t think with Alex boring a hole through me with her eyes.

“Fort Rozz was a space station. It was created by Krypton to detain Raoists agitators that Krypton found inconvenient. Some were guilty of interstellar terrorism while others were merely fanatics who were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Krypton didn’t bother separating the guilty from the innocent. They imprisoned them together in the phantom zone, where they could be managed and retrieved at Krypton’s convenience.

“Like you, when Krypton was destroyed, these men were stranded in the phantom zone. Then, for reasons we still do not understand, Fort Rozz and your pod emerged from the phantom zone at the same time. Your pod was programmed to take you to Earth, so you arrived here first. Fort Rozz arrived a few weeks later.

“The refugees are natives of the Rao solar system, so eventually they all developed powers of varying kinds under our yellow sun. The most dangerous of them wreaked havoc as soon as they developed powers, but they were inexperienced and disorganized, and we defeated them quickly. The rest have stayed under the radar, much as they had on Krypton. They are strangers on this planet and they keep to themselves, observing the strictures of Rao. They respect the inherent royalty of Superman, so they have mostly left him alone, as Rao demands, but they are still looking for revenge, or at least compensation, for what Krypton had done to them.

“You have changed the dynamic. Chattel girls were Krypton’s designated scapegoat and bargaining chip. They had believed all of the chattel have perished on Krypton. Your actions today have made it quite clear that at least one chattel girl has survived. According to treaty, you still have obligations to them, and they are hungry to take what is owed to them. The old treaty is now in effect, in their minds, and Earth has replaced Krypton as holders of the bargain. They will stop at nothing to find you, and if Earth gets in the way, we will all pay a price!” Director Henshaw finishes his stream of abuse with a finger in my face.

“What do you want from me? ” I complain. “I am not a chattel girl, anymore!”

“You don’t get to decide that or claim any entitlements,” Alex snaps back. “The fanatics believe that the only way they can seek justice for what Krypton had done to them is through you.”

“Leave me alone!” I cry. I can’t bear the look in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this before? You’ve lied to me all of this time!”

“We’ve protected you!” Alex yells back. “And you are the biggest liar of all! Everything you’ve told me for weeks and months …”

I fall off the gurney and crawl into the corner of the room. Hearing her talk to me like this is unbearable. I can’t breathe!

Director Henshaw stops Alex and they whisper among themselves while I cover my ears and try not to listen to Alex’s bullshit. Then Alex says something angrily. Henshaw nods, and Alex leaves the room.

With Alex gone, and Henshaw waiting patiently, my heartbeat slows, and I can breathe again.

Now when he looks at me, he has this big, reassuring smile on his face. It must be fake, but I want to believe in it. He pats the center of the gurney, encouraging me to sit down again, so I do.

“I know you are scared,” he says calmly, “and maybe your family misled you, but it was only to protect you.”

I shake my head. “They wouldn’t let me do anything. They kept me from using my powers. They always reminded me that I was a chattel girl. It wasn’t fair.”

“They did that so that you could live a normal life as a normal woman. They didn't want you to live like a chattel girl,” he defends them. “They knew if you ever showed who you really were, all hell would break out, as it is doing now. If you were just a good girl and took your medicine, you wouldn't have to be a chattel girl anymore and the world would be a better place.”

I shake my head again. “They wanted to control me. They were mean. They wouldn't even let me help people with my powers.”

Henshaw smiles. “Someone had to make decisions for you. Just look at yourself. Do you really think you are cut out to be a hero?”

I look away, tired of everyone judging me. "Nobody tells my cousin that he's not cut out to be a hero."

Henshaw laughs. "You work at CatCo, but you don't even read your own news reports, do you? Plenty of people question Superman's heroism. He is a criminal, in my assessment. But the Daily Planet defends him at every turn, and credit where credit is due, he has turned Metropolis around. He has stopped wars and changed how people think for the better. He has a cult following that believes he can do no wrong. Contrary to popular opinion, people are not heroes because of what they do; they are heroes because of how they make people feel. Once a person is a hero, knocking him off that pedestal is nearly impossible. Everything they do is automatically seen as heroic and can change the very character of society. It's the government's responsibility to protect society from such false heroes, and that includes slutty chattel girls who can corrupt everything we hold sacred, including the very idea of being heroic."

I feel beyond insulted, and I want to tell him so, but I'm too afraid that he is right. After a moment, all I can do is apologize again.

"Apologies are worthless. I want promises and actions," he states coldly. “What do you plan to do now?”

I don't know what he wants from me. What will happen to me if I say the wrong thing?

Maybe I could put up a fight and do some damage, but whatever this DEO is, they seem equipped to handle someone with powers like mine. Does he expect me to give into them and trust them?

Finally, I dare to suggest, “I want to go home.”

“This isn’t a prison, Miss Danvers,” he says plainly. “But it could be a sanctuary. You don't have what it takes to survive out there.”

I shake my head and repeat. “I want to go home.”

Director Henshaw points at the door and says, “It’s unlocked. Signs are everywhere in the halls, directing you towards the exit.”

I hesitate. It feels like a trick. Now I’m afraid to go, but I open the door anyway.

He watches me quietly, professionally polite, and I appreciate that.

“Thank you, sir,” I say, then I step out the door and into a long, busy hallway.

DEO agents are walking in both directions, and many glance at me while they slink by. I’m not feeling sexy anymore in this disgracefully revealing costume. I feel lonely. But I try to keep my head high as I follow the various EXIT signs. I hesitate when it appears that the signs are pointing in contradictory directions.

Then I hear Alex’s voice calling down the hall from behind me, “Hey Kara, wait up!”

I want to run away from that voice. I don’t even want to look at her, but I try to stay calm. Alex can’t push me around anymore if I don’t let her. I want to believe that. Besides, Alex’s tone feels much less judgmental now. So I wait.

Alex changed her clothes since I saw her with Director Henshaw a short time ago. She replaced her DEO uniform with a karate gi and a black belt. She's not wearing trousers, showing off her long gorgeous legs in full.

I hesitate.

I didn’t know she knew karate. How did she get a black belt? How did she get involved with a place like the DEO, for that matter? Why do her legs look better than mine? We talk on the phone twice a week, yet somehow there is still plenty about her that I don’t know.

Alex sprints and then pulls up beside me. I repeat my mantra, “I’m going home.”

“I heard,” Alex says, sounding disappointed but not hostile. “I think it’s a big mistake, but if you insist, then I have some advice. Are you willing to listen?”

Damn, she sounds so reasonable. Why does she seem like one person one minute, and someone completely different the next?

"No tricks?" I ask meekly.

Alex smiles. She wipes the tears from my eyes and repeats, "No tricks."

Suddenly I feel ashamed and I want to cry even more, but I fight it. I look down and nod my head; I’ll listen to her.

"This costume is cute," Alex says, surprising me. She touches my nipples with her fingertips. "And you look really sexy in it."

I swallow. I never expected in a million years to hear Alex say that or touch me in that way, and it's very unsettling.

She puts her hands on my shoulders and adds words of caution: “When you get home, put on your most conservative clothes, change your hairstyle, and for Rao's sake, put on your glasses. If nobody has recognized you in the photos yet, you might be able to avoid detection from the Fort Rozz refugees for a while. But these are powerful beings with powerful motivations. They will find you eventually, and you’ll need to know how to fight.”

“I’m pretty strong since I stopped taking the pills. I can hold my own,” I say, wanting to sound confident.

Alex shakes her head. “Have you ever been in a fight? No, you haven’t. You may have powers, now, but you can’t rely on them, can you? The men who will be chasing you have no such trouble, and they were so dangerous that Krypton felt the need to imprison them even when they had no powers at all.”

“So … I guess I’ll fly away as fast as I can if I see them,” I say hopelessly.

Alex strokes my hair affectionately and nods her head. “That’s a good idea, but eventually, you will have to fight. I won’t be able to help you when that happens, but if you hang around for a while, I can give you some lessons, and that will give you a fighting chance.”

“You would do that for me after everything I’ve done?” I ask hopefully, softening to her touch.

Alex laughs, as though everything she just said was a big joke, but then she surprises me; she reaches out and gives me a big hug, saying, “Of course, silly! Besides, what would I tell mom if I abandoned you when you needed me the most?”

Instantly, I forget all of the times Alex has hurt me. I remember only her kindness, like when she defended me against bullies at school, or when she confessed her insecurities, or how she would come visit me whenever I felt blue. I let myself cry, and I collapse into Alex's arms.

She hugs me back, but her hands wander to my hips and ass.

Oh no!

This feels wrong, but it feels oh so right, too. I feel so confused!


Alex leads me back down the hallway into a large, round room. Uniforms and equipment are carefully arranged along the edges, and thin padding covers the floor, leading me to believe this is a fancy, ultra-modern dojo.

We stand in the middle of the room.

Alex is wearing a gi, and I am still wearing my costume. My pussy is wet again, and I desperately don’t want for her to see that, but my costume hides nothing.

“Can I wear one of those?” I ask, pointing at her gi.

She shakes her head. “You have to earn it.”


Alex looks me over carefully, then she says, “Okay, try to hit me.”

I can't look her in the eyes. I shake my head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smiles.

Then, in an impossible move, she drops towards the ground, and her foot swings forward, knocking both of my feet out from under me.

I crash to the floor awkwardly and twist my wrist trying to break my fall.

“Ow!” I cry out in pain and surprise.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hurt me?” Alex asks, and it sounds more like an accusation than a dare.

I look up at her, rubbing my wrist. I’m alarmed because Alex is stronger than me, and she shouldn’t be.

“Get up,” she says, striking a karate pose. “You don’t get to take a break in a fight.”

I climb back onto my feet, but before I can ready myself, her fist cracks my cheek with the force of a fastball.

I tumble back onto the floor, twisting my other wrist, but the pain in both of my wrists disappears behind the devastation to my face and my heart. I touch my cheek gingerly, afraid that she broke something. I think I'm blind for a moment because everything goes black with brief flashes of light.

I lay on my back and spread my legs, presenting my wet pussy to Alex like an offering.

“They call you Supergirl?” Alex mocks. “Pfft. What a joke!”

I search desperately until Alex's form takes shape above me. I’m confused, feeling extremely vulnerable and hurt well beyond the physical pain. “Why?” is the only word I can get out.

“Why??” she repeats, as she saunters around my helpless body, forcing me to crawl in circles to watch her. “If you are so powerful, why don’t you stop me? If you are so brave, why do you crawl around like a frightened child? If you are so innocent, why do you always lie and dress like a slut? If I’m so unfair, why do you always come to me for help?”

I stop crawling and just sit on my ass and cry. “I don’t know,” I whine.

“And why the fuck do you always bawl like a two-year-old?” she yells and kicks my shoulder, knocking me onto my back with my legs spread like a reflex. Alex descends to one knee between my legs and shoves two fingers into my pussy, taking my breath away. Alex fucks me with her fingers while yelling in my face, “Why can't you ever stand up for yourself?  And why are you so fucking wet while you are getting your ass kicked? Between your eyes and your cunt, you are like a fountain. Why?!”

I stare up at her in terror and anticipation. “I don’t know!” I repeat.

She stands again and walks behind my supine, exposed body. Then she grabs my cape and lifts me off the ground, using my cape like a noose. I stumble backward into her and grab her wrists, afraid that she will strangle me. She lets go of my cape and cups my breasts in her hands, pinching my nipples, daring me to fight her off. Then she squeezes me tightly and whispers in my ear, “I’ll tell you why: because you are a chattel girl, a hopeless slut, and that’s all you’ll ever be.”

“No!” I cry out and try to push her hands away, but I'm crying too hard. She keeps groping me, feeling me up and down. I don’t have any powers, for some reason, and Alex is bigger and stronger than me. Even worse, I don’t have any will, so after a moment of resistance, I give up.

Then Alex shoves me away, knocking me to the ground, and she laughs. “Is that all the fight you have in you?”

I stare up at her defiantly, so she kicks me in the side. I don't dare to look at her again.

“You are pathetic. You wear that disgusting symbol like you are proud of it,” she says, sneering. Then she threatens to hit me again and says, “Turn over and crawl like the animal you are!”

I nod, feeling ashamed. Alex watches me with fierce eyes while I crawl on my hands and knees.

Then she leans over, grabs my cape.

“Follow me,” she commands, and she leads me around the dojo with my head down and my naked ass and pussy in the air like an animal in heat.

“Sit,” she commands, so I sit like a dog, and she laughs.

Alex walks around me, saying, “Go ahead, get up, I dare you.”

I shake my head and tremble, afraid to stand and afraid to remain sitting.

She laughs, then she gestures for me to calm down. “It’s okay. Stand up.”

I struggle to find the strength and even the will to stand, but I obey. I keep my eyes down, looking at her feet.

“Tell me you are sorry,” she commands.

“I’m sorry,” I reply honestly, even though I don’t know what I’m apologizing for.

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Mistress,’” she instructs.

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

“Tell me you are a bad girl,” she continues.

“I’m a bad girl … Mistress,” I agree, begging her with my eyes to stop.

“Tell me that you will always be a chattel girl,” she tests.

I close my eyes hard.

“Look at me,” she rebukes.

I force my eyes open and wither under her triumphant stare, and I choke out, “I will always be a chattel girl, Mistress.”

She nods, pleased, and then commands, “Confess to me.”

I look at her nervously and nod my head.

“Did you fuck that techie nerd from work?” she asks, sounding worried that I did.

I shake my head quickly. “No, Mistress.”

“Good,” she says. “That means you are still a virgin, right?”

I look down in shame.

“Right?” she commands more loudly.

“Yes, Mistress,” I admit.

“Tell me why that is important,” she tests.

“Because I’m a chattel girl, Mistress,” I confess, “and Rao says that I belong to the first person who fucks me.”

“Yes,” Alex says, grinning, and then she strokes my hair, “that is EXACTLY what Rao says.”

“I won’t let those men from Fort Rozz fuck me, Mistress,” I promise. “I will never belong to them.”

“No, you won’t,” she agrees. “Because you will belong to me.”

“What?” I ask and then inch backward when I see the look in her eyes.

She trips me and I fall on my ass. My legs pop open, and now my pussy is gushing, and I could not be more ashamed.

Alex loosens the black belt around her gi and then tosses the Karate robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. She is not wearing anything underneath, and for the first time, I see my sister completely naked.

She has a beautiful body with perfect breasts, slender hips, and long sleek legs.

And she has an erect, nine-inch cock!

Second Chapter Image:

“What?” I ask again, more urgently this time, while I crawl backward away from her. Or him? I’m so confused. How did I never know this about her?

“This is what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it?” she asks knowingly.

I shake my head while I continue crawling backward until the wall stops me.

“You want to taste it, don’t you?” She is not asking me; she is commanding.

With nowhere left to go, I shake my head and brace myself.

She grabs the hair on my head and pulls my face into her crotch. Her cock and balls are shaved, but not for a few days, so her pubic hair is stubbly. “Open up, chattel girl.”

I wince, afraid of being hit again, but I don’t open my mouth. I moan and shake my head defiantly, rejecting everything I’m learning about her and everything I’m learning about myself.

“Okay, bitch,” she says.

She shoves me hard, and I fall flat on my back with my legs spread. Again. But this time Alex immediately falls on top of me.

She tears open my sheer blue shirt with one decisive move.

“No!” I cry out loudly, and I try to squirm out from under her, but she slams her fist on the mat beside my head as a warning. The next punch will crash again my other cheek or maybe shatter my teeth.

She has my undivided attention. I'll do anything she wants now.

We see each other, eyes to eyes, nipples touching nipples, and her expression surprises me.

Her eyes are sad and longing and fiercely jealous. Alex looks the same way she looked when I was thirteen, and she confessed that I made her feel insecure. Have I misunderstood her feelings for me all of this time?

Her cock presses against my pussy, demanding entry.

And I welcome her in, finally subdued by her fists and her venom and now by her desire. I am utterly vanquished.

She is hard, and I am wet. She decides, while I hesitate. She takes, and I surrender. She is the predator, and I am the prey.

I accept my fate. My disgrace is now my relief. I was never proud, but now I am content in my shame. I'm getting what I deserve.

This is who I am. It always was.

She looks away and thrusts violently and without warning. I cry out in pain. It feels like my pussy is being ripped apart.

I panic. I cry out while Alex thrusts hard again and again, crashing my ass against the hard mat. I don't know when my cries turn to moans, or when my bleeding pussy begins to crave the pain.

Alex’s grunts match my moans.

I moan louder and louder, while my hips rise to meet Alex’s brutal thrusts, and tremors reverberate through me when my ass slams against the floor. I touch Alex’s impassioned face, and my moans turn to screams.

And then everything vibrates. Pleasure explodes through me like nothing I’ve ever known before. I don’t know how long this will last. I don’t want it to end. Shame and fear and sadness don’t exist here; just this amazing feeling.

It feels like a stampede roaring through my life, shattering everything in its path. It’s terrible and awesome and beautiful. Then, as the last bull knocks over the last piece of china, and everything shatters on the floor, the stampede moves on. The roar fades. Nothing will ever be the same again.

Finally, a moment of peace, and I have a chance to reflect on what happened, what I did, what Alex did to me, and how my world changed over the past several minutes. Over the past hour. Over the past day. Over the past week. It has been a cascade of shock and awe events all ending at this moment of numb acceptance.

Alex lets out one last, loud grunt, and then she collapses on top of me, yet still inside of me.

She rolls off and out of my body. She lies beside me, and I can feel her cum slipping out of me.

What do I make of Alex? What is she to me, now? What am I to her?

Alex covers my pussy with her hand, and then she holds it over my face, showing me her semen mixed with my nectar and my blood.

“Now you are my chattel girl, Kara,” she says. “Tell me.”

I turn my body to face her. I don’t dare look in her eyes, but I touch my forehead to hers and agree, “You win, Alex. I belong to you.”


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