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Slavehood	By : Corina Category: DC Verse Comics > Superman Views: 17458 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Superman, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Slavehood
- 1
Title: Slavehood
Author: Corina
Summary: Powergirl is not as powerful as she hoped
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Powergirl/Deathstroke
Feedback: desired.
Characters: Powergirl/Deathstroke Superman later on
Betas: Looking for testers!!! Email me if interested!
Author’s notes: Deathstoke has the upper hand on Powergirl. But will she just lay down and take it??
*Disclaimer: All characters are property of Marvel or DC Comics. I do not own these characters nor do I make any financial gain from these characters. The story is designed for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter One – The Pendant
Slade Wilson swung the little pendant of Kryptonite over the little heroine under him. Still in full uniform, Power Girl laying under him was an interesting sight. Her weakness was apparent as he swung the pendulum of Kryptonite over her. The green glowed more and more, as it swung towards her body making her moan. Swinging it away on its long chain, she body took deep breaths, able to recover in hard sharp breaths. It was not enough to get a full lung of air, but just enough to keep herself alive...barely conscious.
With this feet along each side of her, he was looking down at her, watching her chest fight against the tight costume, straining to breath as he stood straight up, swinging the Kryptonite back and forth. The hard power of his thighs flexed as he looked down at her. The soft, vulnerability of the Kryptonian Virgin reveled in his mind, thinking of what he could do to her. Having never been touched or never even had pleasure for fear of hurting someone, Slade would show her the kind of bondage enslavement that would break her will and mold her into the little slut he always wanted.
It was useless trying to fight. Every moment she thought she had a second of reprieve, the Kryptonite would once again come dangerously close to her body. The only part of the whole ordeal that she was actually grateful for was the mask shielding Deathstroke’s face. Seeing any amount of pleasure in his face would have been enough to send her over the proverbial edge.
The pendant was evil. It glowed the deadly green. It took her breath, her strength. Even her will when it came close enough. And he was taking a pleasure in waving it up and down the length of her body, as if she was merely a toy to be played with.
She tried to fight with everything she could muster. But the Kryptonite was as good as death if she got too close. And then, seemingly for no reason, she watched him stand up. “Giving up so easily?” she said to her, hoping against all hope that somehow Oracle would open up the frequency they once shared, but knowing that after their falling out….it was the longest shot in the world.
But as she watched the Terminator move, she couldn’t help but notice the increasing tightness of his costume. A tightness that could only mean one thing. Something so repulsive she shamed herself for even thinking it. He was excited. Excited by the pendulum torture he was instilling. Excited by seeing her helpless and struggling.
She quickly turned her head in the opposite direction, as a blush crossed her cheeks. She damned all the powers that be for getting herself in this situation. For trying to go after Deathstroke on her own. For being so confident. And now, she would pay. Until someone realized she was gone.
Slade stared down at her massive huge breasts pushing out against her uniform, smiling. This was not a Supergirl or Starfire with their firm but small breasts. Power Girl had the massive mammories that a hero would go nuts late at night wanting to tit-fuck to all hours of the night. SO massive and firm, the Kryptonian power she had told him that they were as firm as they looked. Every villain who heard that he would be encountering her, begging for the chance to have a piece of her. Rumors were spread that she had a wild sexual attraction to Superman but he had refused to take her Kryptonian Cherry. Slade grinned, the thought that he would be the to pop her and be the envy of all of the villain world.
That was not enough for Slade. It was not enough for him to just rape her, he wanted more. He would destroy her mind from the inside out, so that even when she was to be with the heroes again, she would feel what useless little slut she was, so dirty having been a sex toy to one of the worst villains known to man. He wanted them to look at her, like a little bitch that Slade Wilson had used, wondering if she enjoyed it.
Slowly, he lowered the tip of the pendulum to her left breasts. The shape of it, made a nice sharp tip across the end of it. Tracing the sharp tip, he watched it as it ripped the material of her tip. Dragging it more, the exposed end of it slowly made slashed across her chest. The fullness of her chest only pressed across the material, ripping and tearing it open as the pendulum made more slit in her costume.
She tried against all odds to struggle away from him. Slowly he began lowering the pendulum to her left breast, and she fought against every fiber in her being to break free, finding it useless and tiresome. Her eyes blankly stared up at him. Deathstroke the Terminator. Mercenary for hire. The most foul and disgusting villain of the universe. And yet, she couldn’t help but wonder if money was really the motive. If someone was paying him to torture her. Or if this was one of those pro bono jobs that he relished.
“You will regret this,” she whimpered watching in horror as the Krytonian pendant tore through her costume. Slowly at first. Just a tiny slit across her breast. But the sheer tightness of the fabric had been tested, and her body longed to be released from it’s confines. Slowly, the material tore. No matter how much she struggled to stay still. Each breath thrust her large breasts forwards, causing more distress on the fabric. Each movement she made, consciously or not, caused it to rip away, until little covered her chest.
He cheeks flushed red, as she realized her sudden nakedness in front of him. The way her breasts stood out against her body, her nipples erect and aching. The way they moved with every short and fast breath she took made her feel the embarrassment. But behind her innocence, buried deep within her very core, was the anger at what he was doing to her. The acts of torture. The ideas of carnal lust. And worse…the awakening of things within her that she never knew existed.
As her huge breast bulged out for all to see, Slade grinned pulling the material from her upper body with one savage yank! The tearing, further ripping of it made her entire upper body shake. As he tossed the material aside, he let the pendant settle right between her breasts, her breathing becoming erratic as he lay it there. Soon, the kryptonite poisoning would begin, the tainting of her own blood causing a certain amount of madness to creep over her. She knew that, he knew that, and it was time for the mind games to begin. Reaching up, he wrapped the chain of it around her neck, the heavy metal adorning the chain bearing down on her like a million tons of concrete.
"Now now, whatever would you do, to get away now and save your friends from the trap I have them in..." Slade stated, standing over her body as he began to strip his clothes off his body, reaching up with his bulging arms, stretching the material across the back of his shirt while he pulled it over his head. "They are stuck in a trap filling with water, filling slowly....so slowly. The fear must be horrible for them...." he smiled as he pulled open the bottom half of his uniform, releasing the massiveness of his member for the first time. While he pulled down the tight material over his huge thighs, Slade's cock was like the rest of his body, bulging and hard. Its large head like a mushroom compared to the rest, with its curve lightly in the middle, there was no question of what pleasure he could do to a woman. That, along with his massive strength and endurance, made any woman who had Slade Wilson would be spoiled to him for the rest of their lives.
Power girl could feel her whole body quiver. Partly from his savage act of ripping the costume from her body. Partly because of a wave of fear that began to burn deep inside of her. But mostly because of the demented villain that was committing the act. Deathstroke was a genius. A meta with superior intellect, using ninety percent of his brain. He knew what a person could do three steps before they did it. And his sadistic nature was only nurtured by his new and inventive ways of torture and corruption.
But the tearing of the costume, complete with the discarding of the fabric was only the beginning. She watched in horror as he placed the pendant across her chest, nestling it between her large breasts. Breathing became labored. Fear spiked. She was helpless, watching as he tied the chain around her neck.
The strain was almost too much for her to bear. The chain was like a million pounds of pressure, all forcing itself down upon her. She couldn’t fight against it. But she couldn’t allow herself to fall victim at his hands. Her mind raced with scenarios, all things he would have thought of. Countered. Eliminated. But the insanity of her mind was put on hold, listening to his words.
She needed to get away. To save her friends. She closed her eyes as she saw their scared faces begging for her help. She hardly felt him stand and strip the rest of her costume, leaving her naked in front of him. Her mind was focused on his words. Of the trap that held all those she loved. Filling with water. Slowly.
“No!!!!” she called out, seeing the water level raise and raise, painfully slow. Forcing her eyes open, she noticed that he had managed to free himself. His bulging member taunting her. The large cock standing straight at attention, with her as his only audience. “Please….” She whimpered, fearing a fate far worse than death itself. A fate that would haunt her for the rest of her days. Eternity. Her eyes glued to his cock, seeing the large member toying with her. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. She fought every scenario that pictured herself victim of it. She screamed silently for the pain to stop. For the reality to set back in. But at the same time, she knew the inevitable. He was Deathstroke. And she was his prey in a sick game of cat and naked mouse.
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Slavehood