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.

Chapter image 1:  https://www.mediafire.com/view/2fv2he3m98coy4e/BratNiedzwiedz_SG15a.jpg/file

Supergirl saving a kitten in a tree!


Winn gets off of me in a hurry. I pull on my skirt while Winn jumps into his underpants.

I look away from Cat, embarrassed, but I giggle at Winn’s horrified reaction. Being caught with his clothes off is a new experience for him.

“You have no right to use those images,” Winn yells at Cat. “I do not give my permission.”

I look at Winn in amazement. It never even occurred to me that I could object to the publication of my most private info and images.

“Really?” Cat challenges as she walks back into her office. “You decide to have sex on my balcony without my permission, and I can’t record that? That doesn’t seem right. I’ll have to talk to my lawyer, but don’t worry, Mr. Schott, all I got is your cute little butt thrusting with two legs on either side. But you never know; we might have a slow news day sometime.”

Cat leads us to her media center, and she checks responses to CatCo’s social media sites.

She reads them aloud with a carefree voice that doesn’t fit the content of the messages.

Negative comments outnumber positive by about 10 to 1.  Many are threatening, but Cat brushes it off, saying that’s just Twitter, and the traffic just means we are making waves. Cat switches to Facebook and PussyCat. Everyone seems to love me on those sites. The news stations are pushing the same stories as last night. National City and Gotham gush over me, and Metropolis calls me the whore of Babylon.

“This is terrible!” Winn says, alarming me.

But Cat laughs. “No, this is perfect.”

“But it’s chaos out there!” Winn insists. “They’ll never accept her, now, and it’s all my fault!”

“Psst! Wow, and I thought I had an ego!” Cat counters. “Well, I guess I do, but it’s well deserved. This city will accept her, Winn. Not only that, they will worship her, and they will worship me for offering up National City’s first hero, goddess and patron slut.”

Winn and I stare at Cat like she’s lost her mind.

She sighs. “Okay, let me boil it down for you amateurs. You are both too young to remember what this city used to be like, and the past can be the future again. Do you honesty think society loves virtues and hates sins? Do you think it’s good to have commentators praise you, and bad when they criticize? All that matters is that you are trending and that you get your message out. Supergirl trends big time, and everyone is addicted to the stories she is telling. It’s my job to keep the stories coming.”

“Stories?” I ask like an idiot. “I wouldn’t know how to tell stories. I’m just being myself, that’s all.”

“Ha! You’ve been weaving erotic tales with your tits and tush for weeks, my dear,” Cat says confidently. “You are a natural seductress. Your family kept you shy and afraid, but that was never been you. You were a tamed animal, but you were never domesticated. We’ve seen your wildness come out bit by bit. First in the office, then last week in the skies, and finally yesterday after we rescued you. You are becoming what you were meant to be. You are a rollercoaster. You follow the track up and down and through loops, before coming around and starting all over again. People love the stories you tell, and they demand more of the same, only better.”

“What are you talking about?” Winn asks, frustrated.

“Oh, my, you two have worked at a media empire for months, and you still don’t know how public opinions work! Some people win in the game of life based on their merit, hard work, and careful planning. That was how Kara was trying to live her life, and it was foolish. Kara was destined for a different kind of fame. Her whole life is a scandal. The chattel girl! It’s so outrageous, nobody even knows what it means, except it’s sexy, dangerous and forbidden.  It’s a great hook, and Kara sells it time after time.”

I’m fascinated, but Winn is wary and observes, “You make her sound like a villain.”

“She is only a villain if the people don’t like her,” Cat explains. “People decide whether you are a slut or a saint based on whether they like you and what they believe in. People want a good story, and if you are the protagonist, then you are the saint. She has won National City over, so she can do no wrong. If you oppose the protagonist, you are a slut. In Metropolis, their hero Superman has rejected her, so Kara can’t do anything right, there. It’s as simple as that. There are no open minds, and we aren’t trying to open them. National City will embrace her without reservation, as long as she stays in character.”

“Stay in character?” I ask. “I don’t understand. I’m just being me. I’m not playing a part in a story.”

“Of course you are playing a part in a story. It's a very old one.” Cat says and laughs that she needs to repeat herself. “You play the same part in the same story every day, only you don’t understand the pattern. Let me be blunt, since you clearly don't get it. You start shy and childlike, ready to cry. A lifetime of trauma. You never feel ready. Then something magical happens, and we see the real you. You blossom with the look of innocence but the scent of naughtiness. You draw everyone in. Then you bite the apple and you get everyone to partake. Innocence gives way to passion. The story ends when that passion bursts into flames, consuming everything, until you are left in the ashes, humiliated. You regain your shyness, self-doubt and innocence, and the story starts over again. You’ve been repeating this story since I’ve known you, originally on a small scale. You’d try something a little more daring every day. Someone would call you out, whispering ‘slut’ or ‘dork’, and you’d slink away. You want approval, but you crave punishment. The beauty you create is devoured by ugliness. Humiliation is your freedom. The only way you win is by losing. That is the story you tell, and that is the story they want to hear. It never gets boring.”

I shrink away from Cat’s harsh appraisal of my life. I feel humiliated on many levels, but everything she says sounds true. “That doesn’t sound like the life of a superhero,” I say dejectedly.

“It can be,” Cat counters. “You've already created the idea, and now you need to sell it. Read the biographies of any vigilante or hero, and you will find that they rose from darkness or shame. It takes a rare talent to break with convention and capture society’s imagination. That’s what they often say about me; I can get people to do just about anything. I pull strings. I get things to happen. I put you on every news show yesterday, and I turned you into a porn star overnight. You’re welcome. But only you can win their hearts.”

I stare at Cat in disbelief. She made all of this happen. She took my shameful display and moved it to a place where it would ignite – in the world of porn, which she had already made mainstream when she created PussyCats. Now, she has made me go mainstream as well. She managed to convert my humiliation into something exciting and fun and hopeful. She takes shit and turns it into gold. And she knows what’s she’s doing. National City is Cat Grant’s opus, and she wants to make me its heroine, or something more.

Oh my god, can this really happen?

Winn isn’t as optimistic. He takes me aside and whispers, “I don’t like the sound of this, Kara. Cat is saying that your destiny always involves humiliation and destruction. She’d prefer that you were an underdog or a martyr than a hero.”

“No…No,” I object. “I think she understands me.”

Winn looks hurt, like I took her side over his, and I feel bad. He concedes, “Maybe you are right, Kara. I don’t know. When I tried to make you into a hero, I only got you into trouble. I’ll support whatever you want to do, but please be careful. I love you, and I couldn’t bear to see you hurt.”

I melt and lean into him.

Then I ask Cat, “Since you know how these things go, what happens next?”

Cat smirks and takes charge. “We aren’t going to leave this up to chance. All successful stories are planned, produced and publicized. The main event is tonight at 6 PM at Mooney Park, before the ballgame. We'll need a team to get everything ready on time, but you shouldn’t concern yourself with that. You need to go out into the city to promote yourself. We must seize this moment before Metropolis steals the narrative.”

***

Over the next hour, other workers trickle in. Everyone is coming into work early today and are gathered outside of the building, but they’ve been delayed by the SWAT team, who are making sure that DEO agents don't sneak in.

Winn and I spend a lot of time in Cat’s office, while she acts like a director in a movie, trying to set up scenes and impressions. She wants her hands in everything, but like a good director, she also listens.

First and foremost is the costume. Winn and I are both surprised when she likes his new design. Yesterday, she had been pushing sex and nudity hard, but today she says she’s going for a different audience.

“We’re going to have kids and families at the ballpark later today, and we need to show we are more than adult entertainment. That’s where we will start the day. I want Kara out and about, looking like your friendly, neighborhood super-girl next door. This new costume is a good idea, but it’s too conservative.”

“Too conservative?” Winn asks defensively. “You just said that we are going for a family-friendly audience.”

Cat nods patiently. “Yes, but we need to push it to the edge. She looks like a completely different person in this costume, so she’ll come across as fake.”  Cat steps behind me and pulls on the back of my shirt so my tits are impossible to ignore. “See?” she continues, “decent but sexy. Make her skirt around three inches shorter, but still no underwear.”

Winn and I glance at each other, and Winn states the obvious. “There is a good chance for wardrobe malfunctions with those changes.”

“Exactly!” Cat says mischievously. “Parents won’t take their children to Mooney Park to see a show that is advertised as porn, but everyone wants to see a sexy starlet, and if she ‘accidentally’ exposes the goods, all the better, and they are still good parents. We created certain expectations yesterday. We’ve set the bar so low, almost anything will seem decent by comparison. Supergirl has a reputation now for not wearing panties, and if people think she’s turned into a goodie two shoes, they’ll be disappointed. We want them seeing her as both naughty and nice. She will be a contradiction, and they'll love it.”

While Winn works on my costume, various coworkers come and go into Cat’s office frantically, pretending to ignore that I’m dressed only with a towel.  They discuss plans in front of me that involve me, but they act like I’m not there.

One of our interns and tells Cat mysteriously, “The animal trainer says it’s possible.”

Cat replies impatiently, “Then what are you waiting for?”

The intern leaves, leaving me wondering.

A reporter hurriedly conveys, “The school will hold recess at 12:30.”

Cat asks me, “Kara, do you think you’ll be ready at 12:30?”

I nod, but I have no idea what I need to be ready for.

Next, James Olsen enters Cat’s office, looking nervous and won’t even meet my eyes. He tells Cat, “They know I work for you, now, but they are on board. Are we still on?”

Cat is annoyed that he even has to ask. “You know what you have to do, so do it quickly.”

James nods, and he turns to leave, but I’m standing right behind him. He looks shocked, conflicted and lost. He stuns me by kissing me on the forehead before rushing out the door.

I’m so shocked, I laugh. James turned cold after we first met. I didn’t know he had any feelings towards me. I ask Cat, “What was that about?”

“Oh, just more technical stuff. You don’t need to know. Storytelling is often like making sausages – a lot of stuff in there you are better off not knowing,” Cat says, explaining nothing. “But now we are ready to start cooking, as soon as your boyfriend is back with your costume, anyway.”

As if on cue, Winn returns to Cat’s office with my newly tailored costume. I put it on, and as always, his work is perfect, as though he took my measurements beforehand. Winn has added a zipper to the back because the dress is now too tight above the waist to simply pull over my head.  I’m amazed how the tight top expands into a pleated miniskirt at my waist and falls below my hips without threatening to ride back up again. The skirt is now short, as Cat demanded, and Winn ensured that any malfunctions will likely be intentional.

Cat calls Eve back in, and Eve gives me a fresh face.

And finally, I stand in front of Cat, awaiting her approval. She checks me over like an art enthusiast appraises a painting they are about to buy. She’s thinking like a grandmaster at a chessboard.

Winn and I wait for her next move.

Finally, she says, “Okay, before we go any further, I need to know: can you fly?”

“I think so.”

We go up to the roof, and I take a few unsteady steps before I clumsily lift off the ground.

“Is that all?” Cat asks, disappointed.

“No, I can feel it, but I haven’t flown in a week,” I say confidently. “But I can do it. It’s like riding a bike.”

I stop thinking and start flying. I do three rotations around the CatCo building before returning to the roof with a clumsy landing.

“Sorry, I can land better than that,” I say.

Cat shakes her head and is all smiles. “That’s okay. I’ve seen enough. We’ve got a busy day ahead. Let’s get this party started!”

 

***

Cat sends a text, and two minutes later, her phone buzzes with a reply. She glances at the phone, smiles, and says, “Time to be a hero again, Supergirl, but we’ll start small. Across the street from Slater Middle School, we trapped a kitten on top of a palm tree.”

“You what?” I ask.

“Yes, yes, I have a hard heart,” Cat concedes, “but you are the kind, affectionate one. Time to show the world that there is more to Supergirl than saving planes and starring on porn sites.”

Now I know what the animal trainer was for.

“So you just want me to save a kitten?” I ask, still confused by Cat’s direction.

“No,” Cat says, shaking her head. “The rescue is staged. We put the kitten up there; we could take it down ourselves. What matters is you, how you act, and how they respond to you.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “How should I act?”

“I could tell you what to do, but you are a lousy actress. What matters is that you are real. Follow your feelings. Be yourself. Remember, it’s like riding a bike. Just do it,” Cat says, clearly frustrated that this part is out of her hands. “Now, go get that kitten.”

“Okay,” I say.

***

I only vaguely remember the location of the Slater school, so that poor kitty needs to suffer an extra minute while I search the city for what is a surprisingly small building.

I don’t recognize the school from two hundred feet above the ground, but I find a flock of students near a forty-foot palm tree. Visibility makes this the perfect place to stage a rescue. Many other students are gathered at the edge of the school grounds, watching the drama, and a reporter from CatCo is already at the scene – all of this attention just because a kitten is stuck in a tree!

A girl, maybe seven-years-old, is looking up in distress, and a middle-aged man the size of truck is setting up an ill-advised ladder, preparing to climb the tall palm tree. The girl is crying, and the man looks afraid.

I have a terrible thought; did CatCo take an innocent young girl’s kitten and trap it on top of a tree just for a little drama? Is this family a part of Cat’s scheme? Oh please, I hope she’s an actor, but she is very convincing.

What if I screw up and the cat falls? That thought almost paralyzes me, but the danger increases every moment I wait.

I know that flying overhead on a sunny day with a short skirt and no panties is asking for trouble, but I figure I can minimize the risk by simply pressing my thighs together. So what if witnesses see a lingering glimpse of my ass? Kids see as much around here on the beach, where girls wear barely-there bikinis. I better not over-think it. I quickly swoop down and snag the kitten from the canopy of the tree, hold the cute thing against my breast, and I begin my descent. It’s a long way down, and I blush a little, knowing everyone will watch my descent, and the CatCo reporter will have another titillating photo op. That’s what Cat wants, right?

I am surprised, though, when my skirt and cape get caught in something near the top of the tree. My costume is quickly dragged up my body, and that twinge of exhibitionism quickly turns to panic.

I’m holding a frightened kitten in one arm, and I’m reaching behind my body with the other to find whatever has snagged my clothes. I spin around twice in midair, and now my cape and skirt are wrapped around my chest like a straight jacket, and the kitten is trapped within.

I can’t pull away without tearing my costume apart. I can’t use both hands without dropping the kitten. And I can’t just stay there, because the world below is staring up at my ass, my pussy and my flailing legs.


Chapter image 2:  https://www.mediafire.com/view/v4r01pjwu580gnn/BratNiedzwiedz_SG15.jpg/file


How humiliating! But I have been humiliated all week. I can deal with this. I take a deep breath. I think the unthinkable, and then I do it.

I reach behind my back and find the zipper to the costume. I push the zipper down as far as I can in this awkward position, and then I slip the costume completely over my head while holding the cat with my free hand. The long sleeves slow me considerably. Finally, I’m completely naked, visible to the entire neighborhood thirty five feet below me, but I’m free from whatever caught me .

I find where my costume is stuck. My skirt was caught by a hook on a wire, and it wrapped around my cape. I follow the wire with my eyes until I find several colored lights.

I was caught by Christmas tree lights.

I have to laugh despite the embarrassing situation.

I disentangle the blue dress from the wires and let it drop. A light wind carries it towards the school. I figure that costume is gone for good, but I hang onto the cape, and I hold it around my body. I finally make my descent, determined to finish the fucked-up rescue.

Of course, everyone was watching me the whole time with various degrees of astonishment.

I try to stay calm. Be yourself, Cat said. Would that still be her advice? What other choice do I have?

I land a few feet from the little girl and her dad.

“Here you go, little girl,” I say, handing the kitten to her with one hand.  Finally having both hands to work with, I wrap the cape securely around my body like a bath towel, so the only thing left for me to worry about is a gust of wind on this calm weather day.

“Oh, thank you, Supergirl!” she says, as the kitten moves from my bosom to hers. “I was so scared.”

I smile kindly at her, and now I feel positive that her worries and love for this kitten are sincere.

“You can call me Kara, that’s my real name,” I whisper to her since my identity is common knowledge now. “What is your name?”

“I’m Wendy,” she says brightly, thrilled that we are sharing names.

The girl’s father is now by her side, and he looks like he wants to shake my hand or hug me, but he restrains himself from doing either. He's nearly seven feet tall and his voice is like thunder, so I feel intimidated with him looking down at me, but he says, “Yes, thank you Supergirl, I know he’s only a kitten, but my daughter really loves him. We aren’t bad pet owners. I really don’t know how he got all the way up there.”

“I believe you, sir,” I say sincerely and then laugh. “And I don’t know how I lost my costume up there. Maybe we both need to be more careful.”

Wendy points at someone behind me, and I turn to look.

A dozen or so students from the middle school have stepped closer, all with goofy smiles on their faces and innocent eyes.

One boy is taller than me and he offers me his denim jacket, like a gentleman.

“Thank you,” I say gratefully, “but I think you need it more than me.”

Then everyone is quiet for a moment, and I look beyond the boys and girls in front of me. A hundred teens and tweens approach from behind them. Teachers are hurrying to get control of the situation, and traffic has stopped along the side of the road. Everyone is looking at me. Some boys are giggling, but apart from that, the situation doesn’t feel sexual at all.

I feel like I had felt on the wing of the plane so long ago. I know this rescue was staged, and I could not have handled it worse, but they make me feel like I really am a superhero. I feel euphoric. Ecstatic. I feel like chattel girls are never supposed to feel.

Another boy touches my arm and gasps, as though surprised that I’m real.

A girl asks, “Are you really going to be at Mooney Park tonight?”

I nod, “I surely will be. How about you?”

“My parents are taking me,” she says with a wide smile. “Sorry, my manners, I’m Julie. I can’t believe you are here. You look so much bigger on TV, but you are really pretty!”

“Thank you, Julie,” I say with a blush, because these baby-faced middle schoolers are much taller than they looked from a distance. Many are as tall as I am even with my high heels. I shouldn’t be surprised, though, since I stopped growing when I was their age--when the Danvers began feeding me the kryptophen. I feel at ease being around people my own size.

So I smile when another student promises to be at the ballpark later today, and others nod in agreement.

“That’s great! I really want to see all of you again,” I reply and joke. “And next time, I’ll make sure I keep my clothes on.”

The kids laughs like what I said was hilarious.

Then one brave boy says, “What if we don’t want you to?”

I was not expecting that, and it makes me hesitate. Finally, I say, “Sorry, but I think I’ll leave your sexual education to your teachers.”

More laughter, and a few disappointed groans.

And those groans really get to me.

Oh no. Not again. Not now.

"I've got something for you," a boy says as he nudges his way through the crowd.

The boy is Carter, and I see that he is holding my dress and belt in his hands.

This can’t be a coincidence!

My pussy gushes, and I can't hide it from him. He has me where he wants me.

“Here’s your costume, Supergirl,” he says. He dares to stroke my breast as he hands it over, pushing me to the edge.

“Thank you so much for bringing this to me!” I say with way too much gratitude. This would be a good time to leave. But I don't want to leave. I want to stay but I don't know what to say, so I blurt out, “You can call me Kara. That’s my real name.”

“I know,” he says with a grin. Of course he does.  “I’m Carter.”

“Thank you for returning my costume, Carter,” I say while meekly reaching out to take possession.

“Let me help you put it on,” he requests boldly.

I freeze. It’s an outrageous request. My pussy reacts instantly. My knees quiver.

Everyone has already seen me naked, so what is the harm?

“Okay,” I say.

I remove the cape from my body and hand it to Julie, “Would you hold onto this for me?”

“Sure,” she says happily, as if superheroes shedding their clothes in a crowd of middle schoolers is totally normal.

Then I hold my hands out, expecting for Carter to hand over my costume, but he holds it back, complaining, “You said I could help!”

“Oh,” I say, embarrassed for forgetting and for even getting myself in this position. “Okay.”

Carter holds the costume up, hanging the hem of my dress over my head.

I reach into the dress and try to find the sleeves, but Carter then holds the costume back and high over his head. I can’t get into the dress without moving right up against him.

I swallow and step forward. My naked body presses against his fully clothed body. I look up at my dress, avoiding his eyes, but my face is inches from his. My nipples are getting hard, and I’m sure he can feel that through his shirt. My body is hot. My pussy is aching. I’m trying to not think sexual thoughts, but it’s too late.

He twists my costume around my wrists in a simple knot so now my arms are trapped in my sleeves, handcuffed over my head, and Carter’s hands let go and slide down and bury his fingers in my hair. I finally drop my gaze and look at him. His face is barely an inch from mine.

“Are you going…” I begin.

Then he muffles me with his lips.

I moan and close my eyes.

I stumble backward, but he is quicker. His arms swing around me, and I fall into them, like in a romantic dance. He kisses me hard. My legs and arms go limp. My pussy is so wet.

The students are cheering all around me, as though Carter just scored a touchdown.

I can’t maintain my composure. I’m hanging in midair. Everyone can see what is happening to me. My body betrays everything. This boy has reduced me to this.

“Oh Carter!” I gasp, breathing heavily. I turn off my brain and let this happen. If I think now, I’ll never be able to turn off the shame.

Please hurry, Carter! Do what you came to do!

Carter climbs down my body. His hands are behind my chest, pulling me into him, while he finds my nipples with his mouth.

“Oh Carter!” I repeat, trembling in his arms.

And then he descends further.

His hands seem to be everywhere. On my breasts. Stroking my face. Pulling my hair. Squeezing my ass cheeks. Lifting my leg. I only have one foot on the ground. And then I have none.

I open my eyes and see that other boys are holding me, too.

Nobody is looking away. Everyone can see what an incredible slut I am!

I can’t move. This is wrong. It’s obscene. I’m a monster.

I’m dripping like ice-cream under the hot summer sun.

Carter lifts my leg, trying to get at my pussy. I want to help him. I rest my leg on his shoulder. He grabs my ass-cheeks like I’m a watermelon, trying to lift my dripping fruit to his mouth. Without thinking, I lift my other leg and rest it on his other shoulder. Oh, my, he is strong! Or maybe I’m as light as a feather.

He sinks his face deep in my fruit and laps up my grool with a loud slurp!

My whole body shakes.

Then suddenly my support collapses. The boys control my fall, but I still land on the bed of grass with a thud.

Carter falls to his knees between my legs, determined to finish his prey. He dives in on all fours and ravages me like an animal!

“Oh, Carter!” I bury my fingers in his hair and arch my back.

He pushes his fingers in my pussy and tickles my clit with his tongue. He pushes against my thighs with his shoulders. I don’t fight him. I spread my legs as wide as they will go.

Now the other boys join in a supporting role, fondling my tits or just touching any part of me they can reach.

And I take it all in, burning with passion. I’m not Supergirl. I'm powerless. I am all chattel girl, now. I can’t think for myself.

Meeting no resistance, Carter explores my pussy with the curiosity of a child and the passion of a man. He explores with his fingers and strokes my clit with his thumb. His other hand fondles my ass cheeks and then focuses to a single finger that dives into my anus. I gasp again, but then he takes my breath away with his ambition. He pushes another finger into my anus, and pushes his other hand into my pussy up to his wrist while still finding enough room to wrap his lips around my clit and tickle me with his tongue.

Waves of pleasure crash through my body. I’ve never orgasmed so fast and hard! This boy is a master! How did this happen? He seems so gentle and shy, and who the fuck am I kidding, he’s like a hungry wolf. I could see it in his eyes yesterday. I even saw it when I was his babysitter months ago. He wanted me even before he knew I was Supergirl. He sought me out, and his mommy gave me to him as a present. I’m so thrilled that she did, because this very young man knows exactly what buttons to press!

And most amazing of all, I feel no shame. My self-doubt is gone, too. Cat told me many times that shame and self-doubt were my curse, and now her son has taken it away.

They are two of a kind, mother and son. They both wanted me, and they both have me, now. I don’t know if they would take no for an answer, because I never resisted.

I am lost in continuous avalanches of pleasure, but a new, small pleasure shines in relief against the uproar of my lust. It’s gentle. It’s loving and pure. Small hands cradle my face, and small lips touch mine gently. The gentle mouth patiently kisses me through my moans and deep breaths, and I kiss it back. Then the kisses are more daring and passionate, as a small tongue enters my mouth.

I dare to open my eyes.

I don’t recognize her immediately, because her face is too close. Her breath smells like strawberries, and her eyes glow with wonder. Then she pulls back a few inches, and I realize she is the seven-year old girl Wendy. She’s still holding the kitten to her innocent breast while she kisses me. She smiles at me, delighted, and says, “I love you, Supergirl!”

After cumming countless times, the clouds in my mind begin to clear. This little girl has climbed into this debauchery just to kiss me. But she is so innocent! Does she think these boys are just expressing their love for me, and she wants to show me that she loves me, too?

She is beautiful, and I tell her so. She’s delighted. She jumps up and runs back to her daddy.

The boys had cleared the way for Wendy to kiss me, like they were sharing a communal meal. That is not the act of sex-crazed boys. There is more to this outrageous sex act than I have considered.

The boys surround me again and get back to business—except for Carter, because he never stopped.

But they have already tamed the chattel girl, and I can think more clearly now.

I look around me, taking everything in for the first time. I’m still handcuffed by my Supergirl costume. Everyone else still has all of their clothes on, including the three boys who have been ravishing me, though Carter is just now stepping back to pull down his pants. Nobody else is having sex. Some girls and boys are touching themselves through their clothes. A few are touching each other. But they are all watching me, fascinated.

"I want her!" I hear the little girl tell her daddy, like I was a pet.  “She told me I was beautiful!”

He replies. “And she’s right, honey. Chattel girls always tell the truth.”

What did he say? I wonder even while another boy takes Carter’s place, eating my pussy.

A girl and boy are standing over me, watching me while they hold each other close. The girl says, “She looks so happy. I wish I was a chattel girl.” The boy replies, “She’s a love goddess. But I like you more, because you are a real girl.”

One of the teachers approaches me, but she looks as giddy as her students. She says happily, "She is the one!"

Am I hearing them right? This is crazy! I think as the boys suddenly flip me onto my belly. What has CatCo been telling people about chattel girls?

A boy grabs my hips and lifts my ass into the air.

I look back, and I see that he has finally removed his pants, and his cock is ready for action. I didn’t think boys could get that hard or big at his age.

Now Carter is in front of me, his cock out. He grabs my hair and lifts my head roughly.

These boys plan to fuck me from both ends; what an escalation!

I lick my lips in anticipation! My pussy gushes! I want this!

The aura around me and these boys begins to change.

But when Carter presses his twelve-year-old cock to my lips, preparing to lose his virginity to a love goddess, something is eating away at me.

It may be far, far too late. We might as well finish what we started. These boys might never regret this, and they might brag about fucking me for their whole lives, but something is not right, and it has been eating away at me.  I don’t want to go any further until I know what it is.

Then it hits me!

Winn! I haven’t even thought about Winn this whole time. The only man who actually loves me, and I forgot about him completely. That ember of shame ignites, and I can’t ignore it, now.

Even if nobody around me is upset.

Even if Winn loves me all the same.

I’m a horrible girlfriend.

I pull myself free from the boys. If they fought me, they could easily have their way, but they don't. They are confused that I’d stop them at all after how far we’ve gone.

I unravel my costume and pull it over my head. I shimmy the skirt down over my pussy. Then I attach my cape to my costume.

Everyone is watching me, transfixed, wondering what I’ll do next.

Nobody looks upset. If any other girl did what I did, they would be up in arms. But not with me. I don't understand it.

It’s surreal. It’s like Cat said: I can do nothing wrong in their minds.

No, it’s more than that.

They were making love to me, or at least to an idea of me.  Not just the kids that were touching me but everyone! This isn’t only about sex. I can’t hold my shame against them. The truth is, they are wonderful and want nothing more than to please me. It makes them happy.

I don't get it.

I don’t feel ashamed anymore, but the spell is broken at least for a moment, and I need to go.

“Thank you, young men,” I say sincerely, “You rocked my world and touched my heart with your tenderness! I wish I could go all the way with you, but I would feel guilty if I stole your virginity for the sake of me, a lowly chattel girl. I don’t want to cheapen this moment for you. You’ll have to finish your sexual education at school, and share your love with girls of your own age and kind.”

I smile at them, and they smile back. But behind all of our smiles is a longing that wasn’t fully satisfied.

Or maybe it’s just me that feels that way. My body still tingles. It is insatiable. But the need is over, and I feel my strength returning.

I wave at everyone who stopped by to watch me rescue a kitten and witnessed so much more.

Most of the small crowd wave back to me, but a few shake their head disapprovingly.

I want them all to like me, but honestly, I deserve far, far worse.

As I leap into the air, one boy’s words come back to me, making me wonder and smile: maybe I really am a love goddess!

***

I wander over the city for a while, collecting my thoughts, before returning to my home base: Cat’s balcony.

Nobody is there, but just inside, Cat, Winn and Eve are all watching the CatCo news broadcast. They don’t notice me walking in. They are glued to the TV, and suddenly I am, too.

Everything I did below that palm tree is streaming uncensored on the network news. The students’ faces are blurred, but nothing else. The CatCo reporter on the scene was standing only about fifteen feet away, pointing his camera down, and I see my pussy lips in high definition stretching around Carter’s fist! I hear myself calling his name on TV! They forgot to censor that. Or maybe Cat wants people to know who the lucky boy was.

“I can’t believe this!” I finally say, making everyone jump. “How can you show this on television?”

They all laugh.

Cat says, “It’s news. Of course we’ll show it. Real news trumps censorship. We have shown planes crashing into buildings. We showed murders in slow motion. We showed war in all of it’s horrors. This? It’s a feel-good story.”

Now I’m laughing hysterically. “How is a women having sex in public with middle schoolers a feel-good story?”

Cat points her finger, correcting me, “Well, let’s get our terms straight. First, you are technically not a woman according to the law. That term is reserved for natives of this planet. Secondly, you stopped just short of having sex by strict definition. Finally, they initiated the sex, not you, so you are not culpable.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. Those were all good points. I should have remembered that last point after Carter explained it to me last night. “But wasn’t it at least … obscene?”

Cat waves her hand dismissively. “That’s up to a judge, and I think I know our current crop pretty well. They will conclude that broadcasting this video is in the public interest, because, well, the public is interested.”

I giggle. That was funny.

But my mirth disintegrates when I look at Winn.

“Oh, Winn, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I do these things. I won’t blame you if you never forgive me.”

Winn sighs.

He stands from his chair and wraps his arms around me, and I lean into him.

“Kara, I told you that I’m in love with you,” he explains. “I’m not in love with a version of you that doesn’t exist. I’m learning what you are capable of, and what you are not. Nobody is in control of their heart, and that is especially true of you. So I won’t demand more love than you can give me.”

“Thank you!” I say with tears in my eyes while we embrace.

“He bet against you,” Cat says wickedly.

“What?” I ask.

“Winn and I made a bet before you began your rescue,” Cat explains. “I thought the rescue would go without a hitch, and you would probably just flash a little ass for the fun of it. Winn was sure you would show more than that, simply because you had the opportunity. When your costume got stuck in that tree, all bets were off. Everyone went crazy in the office with bets, wondering how far it would go. Nobody even came close to predicting what actually happened, except for Carter. This whole rescue was his idea. He begged me to send you to his school. He has wanted to get under your skirt for months now, and his confidence soared after you two talked on PussyCats last night. He bet that all he needed was a chance to talk to you, and you would melt to pudding in under a minute. Good thing I didn’t take that bet.”

“Oh,” I say, dumbfounded.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Cat restarts. “It’s time to plan out of the rest of today. We had other events planned during the afternoon, but the public can't focus on several things at once. We’ll let operation kitty-rescue dominate the news for a while. And then we'll flip the script again tonight. We need to get ready, and there is so little time."

"What do you want me to do?" I ask, eager to take my mind off of what I just did.

"You? Go freshen up. We need to flip your exposure. You'll do some goodwill flybys before the big event tonight," Cat replies, as though I was irrelevant to planning my own party. She seems captivated by the analytics flashing across her computer screens. " Your formal introduction won't be the family event we were planning for, but #supergirlfan is trending even more among children than it was an hour ago, so … who knows.”

The casual way Cat plans everything alarms me. It’s like nothing has serious consequences.

“What about the kitten?” I ask suddenly.

Cat stares at me, bemused.

“How did the kitten get up in the tree?” I ask, afraid that Cat had put the father and daughter up to it.

Cat shrugs as though it’s no big deal. “Our animal trainer had a laser pointer. He saw a kitten beside the road. He pointed the laser at the tree. That kitten chased the red dot up. Satisfied? Let’s get back to work.”

 



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