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  o    Kristen's collection                                         o
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  This is the Super Hero Archive. These stories were sent to me by
  friends. I did not write these stories. 

  Many have no author name attached. If you are the author of the
  enclosed work please let me know and I’ll remedy the situation.

  This story, and all the stories in this archive are meant to be
  free. They where sent freely and should remain public domain.

DEAUX

CENTRE METRPOLIS 

EXCLUSIVE HILLSIDE COMMUNITY

This area of Metropolis is like the great winding hillside street in San Francisco. Only richer. The
time is 6:00pm and the sky is turning dark grey and the sun is only a sliver behind the lower quad
tower of the Lexcorp building which sticks majestically into the stratosphere, the tallest building in
the world now. On the hill, near the top is a small gated Mysticist shop, a palm reader if you will.
The small discreet sign read:

"Madame D. Trudi" 

Mysticist. Palms read. Tarot. Exorcisms.

Madame Trudi has but one customer this spring morning, a woman dressed like she perhaps
worked in one of the towers down the street, or in the upscale community that lined the snaking
mountainclimbing street that ensnared Vernon Hills. She sat across the table from the robed
Madame Trudi in the back room. Little did she know, her client was wearing a street clothes
disguise. 

She was in fact... S U P E R G I R L.

Behind the roped off area, the dim lights played out a common scene.

Linda looked into the palmist crystal deeply trying to discern just what it was that this robed guru
saw that she couldn’t.

"I just don’t see anything," Linda feigned frustration. She could tell Madame Trudi, a perpetually 35
year old palm reader slash fortune teller extrodinaire, wasn’t catching on. Linda had taken on a
new job, with the investigative wing of the Metropolis PD Organized Crime unit. No one really
knew how she passed the exhaustive entry exams or the rigorous physicals. Then again, no one
knew her other identity, as Metropolis’ costumed defender, The Girl of Steel, Supergirl. She smiled
to herself and drew in a large breath of air to keep herself from laughing. The sudden expansion in
her chest popping one of the buttons off her new tan Donna Karan business suit, unnoticed. Linda
emerged from her reverie and found Madame Trudi sliding her chair up next to hers, holding a
small brown egg and looking at her inquisitively.

"What was that you said," Madame Trudi questioned.

"I didn’t say anything." Linda squinted her eyes, trying to figure out what this hustler was trying to
do now.

"You said, ‘Supergirl.’ What do you mean by that?" Madame Trudi looked genuine.

"M-maybe it’s- er she’s part of my future?" Linda stammered. <<Had she just said "Supergirl" out
loud without realizing it, I gotta be more careful!>>., Supergirl thought.

"Whatever... I am the fortuneteller, let me do the talking, until I require a response from you. If you
had the answers... you wouldn’t be here, now, would you?" The Madame fingered the egg. Her
client was nicely dressed, but still there was something strange about her. Some sort of underlying
confidence that was usually missing from people who came to her searching for their fortunes. Trudi
looked up and down at the distracted Linda Danvers and noticed that she didn’t bring a purse...
Linda was trying to hide a gorgeous body inside a very plain pantsuit. But her curves were
unmistakable. Her bright red boots didn’t quite match her suit and although Linda didn’t see the
missing button that had landed on Trudi’s side of the table near her Tarot card deck, she saw and
looked intently at this Linda Danvers, admiring how her clothes almost puckered they were so tight
around her body, perhaps 2 sizes too small, especially across her chest. Tits like a goddess,
Madame Trudi thought... She had planned in advance for a certain moment, and this was that
moment.

The set-up here was pretty traditional. Small room set off in the back of a house, divided off by
dark purple velvet drapes. Single overhead lamp, very dim, making easier any "sleight of hand" that
might need to go on. Small round burled walnut table covered by an oriental designed cloth with
mystic symbols on it. Large crystal globe in the center of the table. Two big Victorian era plush
velvet armless chairs. Dried rare and exotic herbs hung from the walls. One chair for her, one for
her quarry, and a box for the money. A large mirror positioned behind the victim’s chair. If they
were poker players, you could read the mark’s cards from Trudi’s side of the table by merely
gazing into the mirror. 

Linda glanced around when Trudi wasn’t watching her, scoping out the place discretely,
memorizing. This one was a big time scam. Women from the very wealthy Centre Metropolis cul
de sac community district were coming to this lady and giving her thousands to tell their future.
Apparently not willingly. The women gave the money while they were there, perhaps under some
trance, but invariably, they realized they were being ripped off. Madame Trudi was squeaky clean
and didn’t flaunt her money. What she used it for, who knew, but she had amassed over just the
past 6 months, Metro PD figured nearly a half million from women in their mid-30s looking for
something they couldn’t find in the real world.

Trudi wore a variant of the traditional symbol filled mystical print mumu tied off oddly against a very
tiny waist. Robelike, kind of imperial in a way, like a court sorcerer of medievel times. The coat
was covered with heavy metallic pounded gold, platinum, crystal and lead ornaments, stars, moons,
angels, with splashes of turquoise, her dress was stunning. Linda thought perhaps 10 years ago, this
lady could have done centerfolds for Penthouse. She blushed as she caught herself looking down
the front of Trudi’s loose robe and noticing her really gargantuan boobs, tightly packed into a lime
green bra! Was that all she was wearing under her cloak? Linda imagined she was probably kind
of chubby with some flab underneath with breasts that size, much bigger than her own, but
nonetheless, Linda felt her own nipples go suddenly hard. Luckily you can’t see anything too well
through her DK suit. She was envious of other women, particularly those with super powers, with
big breasts and long legs. But even this human was a huge turn-on. 

Trudi held the egg up to Linda. "An egg is the symbol of fertility, of youth, of rebirth. A healthy
future will mean a healthy egg. Let’s see." Trudy palmed the egg with her hands, the entire egg at
one point, completely obscuredby her hands, closing her eyes and saying a few enchanted words
and then pushed her thumbs through the bottom of the shell, breaking it in half in her hands.

Linda gasped as she and Trudy saw inside the egg along with the yolk, what might have been some
torn flesh, something grotesque that quite obviously should never be inside an egg.

"Omigod, this is horrible!" Trudi exclaimed. "This is very bad... something awful is in your future.
You see this mass - this shouldn’t be like this."

Linda played along. She didn’t know how the lump got inside the egg, but this was the core of the
scam. Undoubtably to exorcise those who were unfortunate enough to get the repulsive flesh lump
inside their egg, which was probably EVERYBODY, she thought, it would require a lot of money
and a lot of future sessions.

"We should try another method. Perhaps your mind isready for it." Madame Trudi stood up from
her chair and Linda eyed the most gorgeous slender leg she had seen on any woman in Metropolis
in the last six months. Her robe had caught on the table and before she could unloose it, her whole
leg nearly up to her butt had been revealed momentarily.

While Trudi had her back turned, Linda’s mouth gaped open, she tried with x-ray vision to see this
woman’s stunning body, but the ornamentation on her robe scattered the penetration making it
seem like one big fuzzy grey blob. <<SHIT!>> Supergirl thought to herself as she stole a quick feel
to her own breasts, so tightly hemmed in by her pants-suit. At times like this, she couldn’t stand
being Linda. She’d rather be there exposed in her alluring Supergirl uniform, catching this lady
stealing looks, trying to feel her out. The whole thing was bringing Supergirl to an arousal level
beyond horny, and she was so hot with her costume’s fabric packed in tightly underneath these
many layers of business clothes.

Madame Trudi sat down, and placed a small wizard’s cap on her head, the top not starch-peaked,
but drooped to one side, this woman was a stunner.

Tarot." The woman splayed a deck on the table in front of Linda. Two stacks... four cards, your
destiny." Trudi began to lay down cards, looking up with her large wet eyes at Linda between
cards.

"The Fool. How unfortunate..." Trudi emoted almost as if in slow motion, her luscious bulbous lips
painted silver lined by a dark black outline.

"Death. How does THAT figure in...?" Trudi said dramatically. Supergirl snickered to herself,
<<how ridiculous>>

"The Princess. Perhaps this concerns someone with great power that you know." Linda saw this
lady was looking right at her chest; Linda blushed. The next card that Madame Trudi drew didn’t
look like a Tarot card. It was in fact, a regular poker card.

"The Two of Diamonds! That’s doesn’t belong in this deck... There’s something really wrong here.
Really really wrong.

Madame Trudi started shivering, and she looked suddenly sick, then she spoke, nearly gagging,
"Linda, we have a spirit presence in this very room, right now.... have you ever taken part in
a...seance. Don’t laugh... this is deadly serious. Your life is in danger - Will you do it?"

Linda drew in a huge breath, faking a gasp, "Omigod! Are you alright?" 

Supergirl thought to herself - This woman is very very good, but she’s so pathetic. This scam was
incredible, she knew just how it worked. After you’ve been through this kind of special effects light
show, how can you not give her thousands of dollars and keep coming back. It was like going to a
shrink at Disneyworld. But this woman with the outrageous body pleading with her, wasmaking her
so wet she could feel her juices soaking into her Supergirl uniform, there was probably a big wet
spot forming, luckily it wouldn’t show. 

"What do you mean my life is in danger!" Linda pleaded... "Do what you have to!".

Madame Trudi jumped up from her seat and grabbed a candle on a high shelf along with some
bottled ointments. She lit the crooked candle and put it in a yard-high candlestick made of twisted
wrought iron, then she pulled the light cord as the room went into blackness, illuminated only by the
dim light of the flickering candle. She lit another candle placing it in a second floorstanding
candlestick and moved the table to the side of the room so just the two chairs were in the center of
the room with the candles burning on either side.

Trudi took the crystal ball and set it on the floor between the two chairs and ordered Linda to sit in
her chair. Next she took an ancient tome from a locked case, and opened the book to a marked
page and set it open on the floor next to the crystal ball.

Trudi sat down in the chair across from Linda and held out her silky hands palms down. "Here,
hold my hands." Trudi said as the flames from the candles flickered blue green and it made the
crystal ball seem as if it might be glowing with those colors. As the little flame lights danced around
inside the glass globe, reflections of the room in miniature.

When Linda’s hands grabbed onto Trudi’s, Trudi could feel their incredible softness, like buttery
silk. This woman’s skin seemed like it had never done any manual labor ever.

Supergirl could feel her desire for this seductress rising like a tide between her legs. Touching her
hands was INTENSE!

"Your fingers are so hot, Linda, you’re sweating!" Madame Trudi exclaimed. "You have to put
yourself in a state of calm... relax... while I read the incantation."

Trudi began to read from a book on the floor in a strange language. "It’s a dialect of ancient
Babylon." she explained. I have to first appease the evil spirit before I can impose on the good to
act as medium for the seance.

Linda nodded in agreement. 

Trudi continued and the two women grasped hands a little tighter.

The Madame’s head started to sway back and forth on hershoulders, and Linda looked curiously
at what the other woman was doing. Her dark brown hair swished in front of her face, and her
eyes closed, and then she felt the shiver again. And Trudi’s hands got noticably warmer. Linda tried
to retract her hands, but Trudi gently pulled them back.

"It’s okay, Linda... just don’t break the bond! Whatever you do! If the bond breaks, you may die"

"Madame Trudi, I’m scared..." Linda lipped. Then Supergirl said lustily in a very low voice,
averting her eyes, "Maybe we should be closer, just in case..."

Trudi spoke another incantation and moved her chair so the legs were touching and both women
had to straddle the seats like horses, their legs spread to accommodate the wide armless Victorian
plush sitting chairs.

Making sure to keep one hand entwined with Linda’s, Madame Trudi lifted the crystal ball up and
set it on the chair, the edges of the large crystal globe nearly touching the two girl’s stomach’s.

"Linda, hold your arms up in the air further, and don’t let go, remember that!"

The electric blue fabric of Supergirl’s uniform around the wrists in such an arms outstretched pose
showed the tiniest bit. Linda knew, but she didn’t think anything of it. It’s just a blue undershirt.
Who cares. Trudi won’t know. Supergirl’s eyes, wet with straining to see the details in the dark,
fixed on Trudi’s silky legs which by the pose they had taken up, were exposed from her mid upper
thigh down to her bare feet on both legs, the robe was bunched up on Trudi’s sexy hips as they
straddled the chairs.

Trudi continued the chant looking at the floor to her right at the still opened book. Linda was being
hit like a beach being pounded by waves every few seconds. And she pushed in a bit closer to
Trudi. Supergirl shifted slightly and drew a breath, pushing her tits out another inch to brush against
Trudi’s.

"Maybe we should get- closer to the crystal ball," Supergirl said.

"I think that would help." Trudi said softly.

Supergirl squirmed in her seat closer to the ball, pushing on it, pressing against her pants suit right
against where the thin blue lycra strip of her invulnerable Supergirl costume ran across her soaking
pussy.

Trudi looked into the crystal ball, and could see the wet distortion of moisture playing off the image
of a dark brown spot on Linda’s tan pants. Trudi moved forward and straddled the ball too, and
their breasts pushed against each other.

Supergirl looked up blushing and looking down at Trudi’s huge tits, but pointing to her own,
"Sorry... I’m just so big up here."

Both women gasped suddenly as Linda shifted and their breasts pushed against each other side to
side and they could feel each other’s nipples hard and erect, pushing into each other’s soft flesh.
"OH!"

Trudi spoke more Babylonian canting but this time looking directly into Linda’s eyes, apparently
she knew it by heart.

"That’s it... I’ve called the spirit demoness." Trudi leaned closer to Supergirl’s face. The two
women were mere inches apart. "Now all we have to do is wait..." Trudi parted her lips slightly and
closed her eyes.

Supergirl overcome by intense lust for this woman leaned in and slowly as their tits pressed against
each other, Supergirl’s lips pressed against Trudi’s, and then pressed harder.

"Great Krypton!" Supergirl moaned, not realizing. Madame Trudi raised an eyebrow slightly.
Behind Supergirl in the mirror, Trudi saw a dark sinewy form collecting from the blackness. 

"What are you looking at?" Supergirl inquired, twisting her head towards the mirror, as the form
dissolved. Trudi put her hands to Supergirl’s cheeks. 

"No one but you, I’m looking at your curvy figure." Trudi ran her hands along Linda’s shoulders
and then down to her tailored suit top. "LINDA! You’re huge... I don’t believe it." Trudi
stammered. 

Supergirl stared at Trudi and considered, pursing her lips to one side, "Trudi... I’m amazing."

Trudi’s hand slipped over the globe, caressing it. "Linda, I see some sensual pleasures in your
future. Look, do you... see it?" Linda kept her eyes locked to Trudi’s. Then Linda felt fingers
tugging at her belt. 

"You don’t want to do that, Trudi... I swear..." Supergirl urged. 

"Maybe you’ll think differently." Trudi unbuttoned her own cloak revealing her completely unflabby
tight body and huge tits as Linda had eyed before, held tightly in by a stunning lime green irridescent
bra. 

"Holy..." Supergirl uttered, Trudi had the body of a sex goddess. "Bigger than me... I- I can’t
believe it!" Supergirl felt a slight ringing in her ears, which she figured must be from her heightened
sexual excitement.

"Do you like my... bra? It’s made of a fiber that glows like that because of the meteor crystal bed it
grew on. It’s very rare, from the tropics."

Supergirl’s hands migrated to touch Trudi’s huge boobs beneath the stunning green fabric. "I love
it. It’s almost tingly to the touch." Supergirl couldn’t believe this. She was feeling out a lady she was
supposed to be entrapping for the police, but none of that mattered now. She loved the touch, the
feel of the green fabric which left her fingers almost numb. 

Supergirl felt the fingers at her waist again, and this time she let the fingers release the belt, and an
slender silky hand slid under her clothes, and under her costume. 

Trudi’s fingers, seeking Linda’s panties couldn’t find any. There seemed to be multiple layers of
clothes, and she finally found a tight lycra thong, barely covering Supergirl’s sopping wet vagina
which she immediately pushed onto Trudi’s finger when the tip touched her sex. 

<<<WWWGUUUUUHHH>>> Supergirl gasped as Trudi’s fingers fucked her. Supergirl sought
out Trudi’s lips again, this time, diving in with her tongue as she massaged her unbelievable tits
through the green glowing bra. 

"Trudi... you’re making me so horny... this can’t be happening to me... you’re making me fucking
insane. I can’t help myself. You’re so perfect!" 

Trudi’s grabbed Linda’s DK suittop where the button had popped off and ripped it side to side. "I
have to have you - SUPERGIRL"

"UNNNN! NOOO!!!! FUCKING SHIT!!!" Supergirl screamed, but unable to control her lust,
she forced Trudi’s hand back between her legs "Can’t control myself..." Supergirl’s "S" pushed
through her ripped open pants suit and her breasts pushed out, now unrestricted up against Trudi’s
own tits. Supergirl jumped up from the chair and looked at her tits. She was exposed. Trudi knew
she was Supergirl. But instead of trying to cover up, it was almost dreamlike, Supergirl stripped off
the rest of her street clothes, sliding her silky tan tighted legs and red boots out of the straight wool
pants. A few tugs ripped the suitcoat off and like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, there stood
Metropolis’ own superhero, Supergirl. Her long legs and tight muscular abdomen supported as
Supergirl told her, "amazing" tits. But her face wasn’t that of a sane person. The Girl of Steel’s eyes
were wide and and her breath short. Without warning, Supergirl’s hands were rubbing her breasts,
to stimulate her nipples and then both hands pressed up against her crotch, through her bright red
silky skirt, her lips forming an "O" as waves of intense pleasure ripped through her like a lightning
bolt.

Trudi got up out of the chair and slid up to the stunning heroine. 

Supergirl’s nipples became as hard as rock and she pushed forward against Trudi. She backed
Trudi up against the far wall, Trudi’s breasts deforming, against Supergirl’s invulnerable gravity
defying body. And then Trudi realized she couldn’t breath. How was she going to have sex with an
out of control superwoman? 

"Super... girl... I can’t breath..." Trudi eeked out. Supergirl’s stunning breasts were beginning to
crush Trudi’s chest. Suddenly Supergirl grabbed Trudi’s waist, pulling their hips together, slamming
them. 

"UUUHHH FUCK ME TRUDI!" Supergirl began to scream as her hips began to buck against her
wide eyed partner. The Girl of Steel viewed everything as if through green lenses, the lust filled her
and something about the faint glow in the bra, made her only think of sex. And Trudi wasn’t
pleasuring her. She couldn’t. Who could satisfy the Girl of Steel?!!! Supergirl closed her eyes and
pushed her own fingers down between her legs, crushing Trudi’s as she tried to scream out, but
there was no air left and Then Supergirl hugged her closer and Trudi’s body spasmed forward in
shock as Supergirl pulled her hips suddenly against her own and her breasts which might have been
steel boulders, didn’t move an inch. Trudi’s head twisted sideways as a violent crunch made her
eyes roll up into her head as her spinal cord severed between the 16 and 17th verebrae. Then
Supergirl grimaced and pushed Trudi’s body away and let it collapse on the floor, her cloak falling
across her breasts, covering the green glow from the bra. Supergirl stared. Shocked and stunned.
What had just happened? What had she done. 

"Omigod... this isn’t happening to me." She stared at the body which lay twisted in an very
unnatural obscene angle. 

Supergirl curled up against Trudi’s body and the two forms lay on the floor for hours. 

When she awoke, she vomited on the rug. Nothing had changed. Trudi was still dead, and she,
Supergirl, who would never take a life, had snuffed this girl’s out in a fit of passion. And it didn’t
even matter that Trudi was a criminal. She closed Trudi’s eyes with her fingers and the cloak
slipped from Trudi’s chest exposing the edge of her bra again. 

Supergirl began to retain her composure and her thoughts were suddenly shifting to how to get rid
of the body without being found out. This kind of news if it got out could ruin her career as
Supergirl. As ugly as it was, she had to get rid of the evidence. She was feeling uncommonly bold
now and went about straightening things out. But wait. Maybe she would merely burn the shop
down and all evidence would be lost. A conveniently placed I-beam across Trudy’s back would
simulate the snapped spinal cord. 

"I can’t believe I’m planning this" Supergirl thought to herself, but themore she thought about it, the
more it seemed like the only thing she could do. Her survival instincts were kicking in. It never
crossed her mind to turn herself in. And then another amazing thing started to happen. Another
wave of pleasure rocked her body and she shivered and came, her mouth gaping as she gasped .

<<<<GNNNNNNNN>>> Her reflection in the mirror seemed to swoon with her, like a heat
wave rising on a hot desert lakebed. What was going on. Whatever it was... it felt incredible. Like
a drug, taking her, Supergirl, for a ride. She had to get herself together before her next appointment
showed up.

Supergirl looked into the mirror and straightened out the costume over her shoulder. She cupped
her breasts and pulled at the "S" until it was positioned just right on her tits. There was still
something wierd. She looked at her reflection and tried to figure it out. Maybe it was the glass. It
looked as if it was liquid, maybe double sided or imperfect mirror backing refracting double
images. It was kind of ghost-like. Supergirl cocked her head and looked around the room. There
was no light to play tricks in the mirror. Supergirl was intrigued and moved closer to the mirror,
wishing to inspect the frame closer up.

As she leaned in to look at the mirror even closer, she noticed she knew what was so strange. Her
nipples were erect, sticking out through the fabric of her Supergirl top by nearly a half inch. Rather,
that’s what she saw in her reflection. She looked down at her tits to satisfy herself, but was instantly
shocked to discover her tits were smooth, her nipples weren’t erect, but she massaged them
quickly to erection, turning herself on, and slipping her hand beneath her skirt, masturbating in the
mirror. Looking up, watching herself cum as the wetness dripped down her legs. A quick blast of
super breath bouncing off the floor, puffed her skirt by the air current, blowing it up exposing her
fabulous legs and thin blue lycra strip over her pussy, and she struck a Marilyn Monroe pose, then
she noticed in the mirror, the glowing green orb of the crystal ball in the background, refracting the
green glow from Trudi’s brazierre

Supergirl’s jaw nearly dislodged as a tremendous sideswipe punch spun her in circles, crashing
back against the far wall of the room and tearing a gaping hole in the floorboards of the room.

"NNNNAAA" Supergirl groaned as she rubbed her chin, swiveling her jaw as it clicked back into
place, nearly dislocated. "Impossible! Nothing ever hit me that hard." She looked up ready to
strike, but the room was empty.

The only other person in the room was dead, just Supergirl and Madame Trudi’s body, reflected in
the long mirror like a crime scene.

How in the world did that happen, Supergirl wracked her brains, a psi-blast from somewhere? It
made no sense to her. She got to her feet and went back to the mirror, cautious, searching for a
trap door, or dimensional gateway of some sort. She leaned closely up against the mirror, brushing
the hair out of her eye, seeing if there was any abrasion to her perfect skin from the blow to her
jaw. None. Of course, she was invulnerable. Sometimes she’d forget that. No one can hurt me,
I’m Supergirl. Her confidence returned quickly. Supergirl figured it was about 9pm and she had to
get rid of this body NOW. The job, however wouldn’t pose too much difficulty for a girl with an
unblemished reputation and powers beyond anyone’s comprehension. She hated it, but now that it
was done, there’s no way she would let it be the end of Supergirl!

She looked at her cute nose and struck a profile, she was just amazing. Her fingers again went to
her vagina, and she stroked up and down along the lips. All this had been too much for her, she
couldn’t hold back. She didn’t have the willpower, she turned back to Trudi’s body and in a
moment of pure lust, she lowered herself onto Trudi’s face and began to cum. Trudi’s lips felt
almost like they were moving and Supergirl shivered as a second orgasm began to hit, unstoppable.
And it was like Trudi’s tongue was pushing into her pussy, licking her in and out, pushing and
fucking like a cock, and she threw her head way back and caught a glimpse of her erotic image in
the mirror, and then came a third time, her tits bouncing as she fucked Trudi’s face. 

Then, almost yelling, Supergirl said, "I’m so fucking powerful! I can do anything! I’m Supergirl.
And nobody knows I’m also Linda Danvers" She had to say it out loud. It was too much of a rush,
no one could hear her, and it made her jerk and cum again. She was living on the edge of insanity
and it made her impossibly horny. 

A small laugh, like a giggle, maybe she had been imagining it. She stopped stone cold looking
around the room. And then her eyes widened and she cranked her head back to the mirror and she
knew what had been wrong. Her reflection had been impossible - the "S" hadn’t been reversed, it
wasn’t a mirror at all, something very evil was happening. And worse, her reflection wasn’t down
doing Trudi, it was still standing, walking toward her from across the room in the reflection.
Supergirl jumped to her feet and lashed out with heat vision at her reflection and as the beam
reflected back, it seared her on the "S" making her collapse to her knees screaming in pain.

As the Girl of Steel looked up grasping her breasts on her knees from the floor she saw her
reflection press up against the mirror from the other side and like the liquid of a mercury surface,
she PUSHED RIGHT THROUGH!

"Holy Krypton! I-" Supergirl stammered as she watched the image of herself in the mottled
candlelight emerge from the mirror and as she passed through the gateway, the "S" logo, reversed
itself and as the bizarre counter image of Supergirl stood in the room, looking around, apparently
pleased with itself and smiling, looked down at the Maid of Might, it spoke, but only a gurgle came
out and it shook its head, the darkish blonde hair falling sexily in front of its eyes.

Now Supergirl was truly staring at her reflection. Supergirl scrambled to her feet and grabbed the
shoulders of her mirror image and pushed with enough force to crush a lump of coal into a
diamond. But it was like a human trying to bend steel, she couldn’t even dent this girl’s muscles.
Then, quick as thought, the Supergirl image slipped its arms out around Supergirl’s "grip" and
mimicked the maneuver on Supergirl’s shoulders. Supergirl sensing the impending attack, steeled
her muscles, which now bulged erotically under her tight costume just before her double’s palms
grabbed onto her shoulders.

Supergirl began to struggle as the image pressed in with unbelievable force.

"NOOOO!" Supergirl screamed, immediately panicking. "MIGOD!!!! SO STRONG,
MATCHING MY POWER!"

"No Supergirl, not matching your power. Stronger than you." A voice spoke from aside the two
Supergirls. And she twisted her head to stare at the standing form of Trudi, who began to open her
eyes for the first time since they had the deadly embrace.

<<GAASSSP>>> "Madame Trudi!" Supergirl couldn’t believe it. Her mind raced with ideas at
how this power transference had worked. Something to do with the incantations, got to be! Trudi
was DEAD!

The reverse "S" Supergirl shifted her weight and pressed in at a different angle, and a loud dull pop
eminated from Supergirl’s shoulder and she screamed again as her shoulder dislocated at an
obscene angle, her legs giving in and starting to go limp as the bizzaro Supergirl held her a few
inches off the ground by her shoulders. Supergirl watched as Trudi’s feet stepped into view.

"Now that we’ve been so... INTIMATE, Supergirl, I insist you use my first name." Madame Trudi
pushed close to Supergirl and raised her chin to force the Girl of Steel to look at her face to face.
She stared into Supergirl’s eyes with a dark black pupiless condemnation. 

"I’m Deux Trudi, pleased to meet you. Call me ‘Deux’. And don’t worry about hurting me again.
Now I’m just as strong as you.. perhaps stronger. Invulnerable too. I don’t think I can fly though
but with my friend, I don’t think I need to. This is Bizarra. Remember that spirit, you brought
through the gate? All that you stand for, corrupted instantly by taking a life and then shamelessly
masturbating to orgasm. You opened the gate, just as we’d planned. Personally, I didn’t expect to
have to have gone through what I just did, but I guess the outcome is more than satisfactory. I live,
and I’m now not quite human but I’m powerful. Powerful enough to destroy you, Supergirl. Bizarra
has all your powers, too, she IS you, and the demon spirit I conjured incarnate in one
Goddess-like anti-hero. She’s the anti-supergirl. She’ll be taking your place, Superbitch, and the
world will know that the name of Supergirl really means DEATH.

Supergirl’s shoulder eminated spikes of pain through her body and as Deux nodded to Bizarra, the
Girl of Destruction, pressed even harder against her shoulders and just before her left shoulder
dislodged, her breasts pressed into Supergirl’s, they weren’t soft any longer. They were as hard as
concrete - hurting her. This evil twin of herself, that she herself had been responsible for unleashing
was now holding her, against her will, hurting her!

"GAAAAAAHAHHHHHHHHH!" Supergirl screamed as her shoulders shifted like ostrich legs
next to her ears, her costume stretched to the maximum against her huge tits.

Bizarra then released Supergirl’s shoulders, her arms now useless, she pushed the Girl of Steel
down onto her knees with her hand on her head and with her other arm pushed Supergirl’s face
into Deux’s crotch. "Do you know how humilitating it must have been for me to have you fucking
my face a few minutes ago? DO YOU!"

Without letting her answer, Bizarra pushed the back of Supergirl’s head, grinding it forward into
Deux cunt, the sorceress’s lips going agape, gasping as she slid her vaginal lips up and down
Supergirl’s. Supergirl relaxed, let it happen, and regained some important ergs of energy.

"Come on Bizarra, we’ve got places to go. Oh, and don’t forget Toygirl, she’s the main
attraction..."

Supergirl bolted up, breaking Bizarra’s grip, "Nobody fucks with SUPERGIRL!!!" She screamed
in desperation, fighting to hold back tears. At super speed she put Bizarra into a full nelson.

"I don’t know how you did it, but I’m -<<GGGGGAAAAHHHHH>>>> breaking my grip, can’t
hold it... can’t be this strong - NOTHING IS!!!!"

The darkly costumed Supergirl’s muscles pulsed and flexed at, breaking Supergirl’s grip slowing,
and turning around grasping Supergirl’s fists.

"Twisting me around!!!! IMPOSSIBLE!!! HOLY FUCK! Grabbing my fists!" 

Bizarra gritted her teeth. "I AM you, costumed freak!. You better start calling ME Supergirl and
showing me some respect. You’re going to be MY TOY. If you make me mad, I’m going to tear
your arms OFF, and then your legs. You MADE me Supergirl - and I can DESTROY YOU!!!"

Bizarra brought Supergirl to her knees again. Then she grabbed Supergirl’s blonde locks in with
her left fist ensuring she wouldn’t be thrown to safety after this next punch. Supergirl stared unable
to fight back as Bizarra cocked her right hand back and pumped her muscle up. Bizarra’s mirrored
"S" stretched erotically across her tits which Supergirl noticed were somehow larger than hers. In
fact Bizarra was a bit taller too. She was everything that Supergirl was plus the energy of the
Demon Spirit Deux had conjured through the dimensional gate. As Bizarra released the energy
stored in her bicep through her kinetic flying fist, it smashed like a wrecking ball into Supergirl’s "S"
with a shockforce equivalent to a hydrogen bomb and the Princess of Power collapsed like a sack
of potatoes, blackness drowning out her consiousness.

Bizarra scooped up the Girl of Steel and putting her other arm around Deux, the sorceress nodded,
and Bizarra and the 2 of them shot like a pummelling rocket through the two floors of the small
building and out into the night sky. Deux spotted the Metropolis Civic Center lit up for the evenings
playoff game in football, and motioned towards it.

Deux whispered to a barely conscious Supergirl, "Now we’re going to go and see your fans,
MCC, Superbowl 40, Superrbitch. Televised. 60 million people watching."

Supergirl could barely comprehend through the haze of blackout, and she didn’t understand, she
couldn’t, what was about to unfold.

The game was just beginning. Both teams stood with their helmets off, facing a fluttering flag on the
massive Toshiba skyscreen scoreboard. A popular opera soloist was singing the national anthem.

"And the rockets red glare!..." he boomed out, and at that moment, a blue and red streak came
crashing down onto the 50 yard line and an incredible speed, forming a small crater.

Supergirl, woken by the rush of night air, and the impact with astroturf, unsure where she was
struggled to her feet to the cheering of the crowd, her arms were oddly motionless at her side. The
announcer confused, announced her like a planned event, "And Metropolis’ own red rocket,
SUPERGIRL!". The crowd went crazy, applauding. Supergirl just stood there looking dazed, then
the soloist, unsure of what to do assumed he should continue singing as Supergirl was standing in
patriotic reverence. 

He belted out another stanza, "Bombs bursting in air!" which accompanied two more forms, one
which everyone thought looked almost like Supergirl, but it was like she was standing in a shadow,
the colors of her costume instead of bright reds blues and yellows were deep reds, dark navys and
a dark mustard colored yellow. Bizarra touched down and Deux rolled to her feet and the crowd
cheered again. Deux strutted over to the soloist and grabbed his mike.

"HEY!" the big man now indignant, barked out.

"That’s enough out of you!" she sneered, pushing him backwards with enough force to knock him
off the platform, his body landing with an awful thud across the plastic seats on the bleechers
below.

Out on the field, Bizarra walked over to Supergirl and put her arm around her. Deux walked
toward the pair with her microphone. "You all know Supergirl, don’t you!"

A live reporter appeared on screen the network LIVE logo flashing at the bottom of his broadcast,
runs with his own mike in hand towards the centerfield action. "Folks we’re live at Superbowl 40.
There’s definitely a flag on the play here. MOVE IT!" the reporter yelled into his mike as the
camera image bounced along trying to follow him.

"This is Jim Cimina Action News 2 LIVE at Metropolis Civic. We have a situation here..."

The News 2 camera stopped bouncing and came to rest on Cimina standing next to Deux who
stood eyes burning into him with her hands on her hips as she spun to meet the reporter. Deux
extended her left hand turning to the camera and sneered "Keep the camera rolling tapehead" and
with her right fist, crushes Cimina’s windpipe, the cub reporter gurgling collapsing on his face
clutching his neck.

"We’re here to show you," Deux lilted, "that if you think you’re safe because of this so-called
‘Supergirl’, you’re truly hallucinating. Let me introduce BIZARRA to you. She’s everything
Supergirl is, and everything she really wants to be, but can’t. You see, today, Supergirl took a life.
And today, her sucessor will execute judgment before her peers.

Bizarra locked her arm around Supergirl’s neck and as the Girl of Steel struggled to escape, Deux
calmly clipped a radio clip microphone to Supergirl’s uniform, near her neck.

"There you go, Supergirl. Do you have anything to say in your defense? We pronounce you guilty."

The crowd roared into chaos, some people being trampled trying to escape some unknown
soon-to-occur event, it had the effect of a bomb scare. 60 million people were glued to their
television sets as the drama unfolded.

Bizarra dropped her hands and from behind cupped Supergirl’s "S"-covered breasts and began to
squeeze. Her nails dug in poking against Supergirl’s jutting tits. Supergirl wouldn’t say a word,
sensing the microphone as she gritted her teeth, all that was broadcast was her grunting to escape
and to her horror, the big giantscreen close circuit stadium tv board was projecting the image of the
struggle up close. And to make it worse, some of the crowd had stayed, and they were glued to
their seats, watching as if this might be a roman gladiator match. And she was indeed the central
attraction.

"Oh, we gotta make this fair..." Deux exclaimed, walking up to Supergirl and slamming her palms in
a sharp snapping jab to Supergirl’s shoulders, relocating them. 

<<AAAAARRRRGGH>> Supergirl yelled, tearing from the pain, and immediately spinning around
with her newly found leverage and catching Bizarra across the eyeline with the heel of her red boot.

Bizarra roared in agony as she crashed backwards collapsing a whole section of the add-on
stadium bandstands, tuba and trombone players slipping off and raining on this Princess of Death

"You HURT ME BITCH! I can hurt you worse! I can hurt your friends. I can destroy your city!!!!"
Bizarra screamed back as she flew into the sky. A bleary eyed sousaphone player, entangled in his
horn who had broken his leg and his glasses in the fall, groped out to the hovering caped wonder.
"Supergirl... help me, please..." He pleaded. Bizarra smiled tilting her head as an evil idea popped
into her brain. "I’m here... This really is a job for Supergirl!" The band player smiled, "Thank God!"
Then Bizarra gritted her teeth and her eyes glowed bright orange - a searing atomic blast lept out
from her pupils like a thin ribbon towards the fallen man. The instrument went liquid upon the touch
of the orange incinerating beam, drenching the man, coating his face and body with liquified brass.
"Supergirl NOOOO!!!" he screamed and through the molten metal, the features of his screaming
face appeared, then disappeared becoming skull-like as the metal ate through his flesh, and then
hardened. 

"All your friends will die like that.... screaming, and they’ll think it’s you." Deux spoke standing right
behind the Girl of Steel, as she spun around. "They’ll think it’s you... or Linda Danvers. That’s
right. I heard you. And Bizarra heard you. And we’re going to hurt you. Is that clear?" 

"All I know is that you’re not living in Reality, Deux... now I know what to expect! You’re very
powerful, and so is Bizarra, but you’re new at the supervillian game, and I’m the best at it."

"Supergirl - you haven’t the slightest idea what ‘living in reality’ means. I’m a Sorceress, and I
needed to experience death again, in order to gain my new powers. Powers which you cannot
possibly imagine." 

"You’ll never be able to blackmail me, you’ve blown it. I’m on mike, remember? All this is being
picked up and broadcast. 60 million people know your lies." Supergirl snarled, about to leap at
Deux.

"I’d beg to differ, but I never beg. You’re nothing special. The entire Metropolis cheerleading
squad have even been called "supergirls" in the Times. As history will reveal, you’re nothing but an
imposter. Observe!" Deux gestured to the Metrpolis Firestars’ cheerleading squad, perhaps the
fifteen most voluptuous models ever bought by any football franchise. The emphasis was on the
body. A better body builds better ratings, the assistant general manager was blindsided to read
quoted several weeks before the Superbowl, to which he resigned in shame. But there was truth to
the statement. Never had there been a collection of ultra-buxom mid 20somethings with waspy thin
waists. They were all younger than the Girl of Steel, and Supergirl thought it odd, but they were all
blonde, and they all had bodies like hers, but MORE in every possible way that could be desired.
And they were all suddenly peeling off their cheerleading outfits to reveal - 

<<<GASSSP>>> Supergirl was stunned. They all were wearing Supergirl costumes underneath
their cheerleading outfits. "How???!!!!!" Deux motioned with a nod of her head to Bizarra who
suddenly rocketed for the stratosphere leaving a tornado of leaves and a giant sonic boom in her
wake. Deux traced Supergirl’s "S" with her finger and it seemed as if Supergirl couldn’t move fast
enough to grab her wrists and suddenly she was standing back about 15 feet away from her and
Supergirl clutched at air. 

"You see, I’m also faster than you. More super than you. But I see you’ve got your own problems.
I’ll be seeing you soon, S-girl. It’s not power I need now - it’s financing. Girls! 2-4-6-8 Who will
YOU annhilinate?"

The 15 Supergirls now all in full uniform leap FLYING!!!! into the air, bearing down at
"SUPERGIRL!!!!"

"Great Krypton! HOW!!!!???" Supergirl once again at full strength, shot up at super speed, missing
the wave of blue and red blurs that passed below her like a wave destroying a child’s sand castle.
She looked up at what was left of the crowd. The cameras were still rolling and the crowd was
amazingly, cheering, like this was some sort of entertainment. This is a very sick world we live in,
Supergirl thought, as she was suddenly tackled from below by one of the supergirls. Up close, they
really did look like her. Powerfully built, blonde hair, red flowing cape, the boots, skirt, belt.
Strangely some of them had beltloops on their uniforms and others didn’t and some sported yellow
bands on their boot tops, and others didn’t. But they weren’t THE Supergirl, ONLY SHE was!

Supergirl shot up higher into the air, dragging this pretender with her, but then her progress slowed
as 2 other supergirls grabbed her ankles, and then a 4th rose up like a phoenix behind her, blasting
heat vision, boiling Supergirl’s skin who grabbed her around the waist from behind and started
pulling with all her might. The remaining supersquad was heading up quickly and Supergirl knew
what to do. She used the momentum of the crushing force on her stomach and like a reed, went
with the flow and continued the motion through folding as far as she could in half tossing the
supergirl grabbing her from behind, tumbling down like a cannonball, felling every one but the two
girls who held her ankles. 

"This is a pitiful attempt, it really, is." Supergirl laughed at them. "You’re giving me a bad name!"
Supergirl brought her arms in towards her side and looked at the girls below, "This is called ‘the
twist’... you may have seen it in some documentaries on dance!" Supergirl spun like a propeller
whipping up a tornadostorm of wind as her two anklemates spun off into the darkness in opposite
directions. Supergirl stopped and reversed her spin grabbing her cape, using it like a big parachute
behind a drag racing car the cape unfolding like a flag, her "S" logo majestically billowing. She
looked at the two trenches her ankle grabbers had made, their chests heaving and stretching at thier
"S" logos, obviously no match for the REAL Girl of Steel. 

Again Supergirl saw a squad of three supergirls flying up to meet her and she decided to meet them
head on and shot at super speed down towards them, but her cape was grabbed from above and it
went taunt, throwing Supergirl off balance, and as she twisted to see who her assailant was, she
found herself choking, her own indestructible cape wrapped like a noose around her neck.
<<GAAA>>>

The supergirls took note and those coming from below held her from unspinning and two flew up to
hold her arms, and another grabbed her luscious neck and pulled back on her hair. Even though
these supergirls were no match individually for Supergirl, there were still 13 of them... 

"Starting to overcome me... NNNNN Gotta break free!!!!!" Supergirl grunted as she twisted
around in the steely grips of the anti supergirl society. A pair of Supergirls imitating her twister
moves, spun up in front of her, fists cocked and they both started wailing with super punches, on
S-girl’s tits. 

"OMIGOD!!!!! HURTING ME!!!!! AAAIIIII!!" Supergirl screamed with disbelief and tried to
twist again, but these girls had learned. They watched, adapted. They were evililly intelligent.
Supergirl tried folding over and snapping back to break their hold, but they had watched, and
learned, too. 

Focusing on the two boxers in front of her, Supergirl lanced out a super cold breath, and they went
stiff within seconds. Switching to microbeams of super intense heat vision, Supergirl yelled out and
their bodies literally exploded apart, their costumes containing the grisly remains of their bodies. 

Supergirl flipped her legs up and somersaulted midair on top of the shoulders of the Supergirl who
held her neck, and with her thighs, she twisted, snapping the neck of this Supergirl and with all her
might, she clawed out to the sides the dislodged arm holders grabbing their chests by the "S" logos
and slamming them together at superspeed in front of her, as they both dazed out, Supergirl flexed
and slammed again, and soon the two were like supergirl rag dolls and she let them drop to the 40
yard line. 

Swivelling and spinning like a cannonball Supergirl dropped like a rock into the approaching group
of seven Supergirls, and right as she passed through their midst moving at top speed, she extended
her arms and legs and whirled, crunching their bones and skulls like a lawnmower. The last
supergirl soared towards the stratosphere and then turned and hovered, and just as Supergirl had
just done, she dropped like a stone, but Supergirl could see she was winding up a KO punch and
streaked up to meet her head on. Just as they were about to collide, Supergirl lunged out of the
way and her opponent crashed at super speed into the ground, releasing all the energy into her
punch, leaving her body vulnerable and rife for shock as her body caused an earthquake under
Metropolis Civic. Supergirl landed next to her last opponent and as the girl got dazed to her feet,
Supergirl kicked out in a great punt, hitting the girl in the "S", sending her body flying right through
the goalposts and into the giant screen TV which exploded in a frenzy of electrical arcs, the body of
the last Supergirl impaled on hundreds of shattered electrical contacts, as the body spasmed in
electrical euphoria. 

"Deux, you should have stuck around!" Supergirl yelled, raising her fists into the air, letting her tits
bounce for the crowd which again went wild - cheering her on. "You can’t stop me, I’m the only
real Supergirl, and I killed them all! And I’ll do you too!" 

And then there was Deux, only a voice in her head as she spun around trying to find her, obviously
some sort of astral projection or super ventriloquism, "Reality check, Superbitch!" And then the
voice was gone. That was really wierd, and what the fuck did that mean. It was like she was still
toying with her. Supergirl scanned with her telescopic vision, checking to see if the pair were still
lurking in the area, watching the scene unfold. 

"Supergirl, you’re totally out of control!" Her voice boomed again as Supergirl was blinded by a
brilliant light directly above her and a windtunnell like a tornado blew her blonde hair around sexily.
"Come and get it Deux!" she screamed "And bring your freak Bizarra with you!!! Metropolis is
MY CITY!!!!" The light shifted around and Supergirl could hear the sounds of a helicopter, Deux
had really fled the scene, what a cop-out, Supergirl thought. Supergirl looked closer as the SCU
SWAT jet copter jaunted into view. "You boys can clean up, it’s kind of messy. I already took
them out. But there’s more to be done."

The SWAT seargant leveled his particle rifle in Supergirl’s direction. 

"Whatare you doing? I’m the REAL Supergirl!", she said pointing to the "S" on her chest.

On the bullhorn the SWAT commander said sternly and loudly for all to hear. "Supergirl... you are
UNDER ARREST. LAND immediately."

"You’ve got to be kidding! There were 15 of them. 2 got away. I don’t know how they got all
these superpowered clones, or androids or whatever, but I destroyed them all. I know you’re
upset about the damage to the stadium, but..."

"Supergirl... the charge is MURDER. Don’t make this harder than it already is. Do not flee the
scene. You must land immediately and submit yourself to be taken into custody. Am I clear, you
MUST do this NOW"

The cheering crowds didn’t seem very friendly any more. The cheering sounded more like hissing
and taunting, as if it were a 10,000 party lynch mob. 

Supergirl shook her head and lighted softly on the ground, and then she noticed in the mostly
destroyed stadium - carnage everywhere, at the end of the two trenches on either side of the field,
not Supergirl clones, but dead, twisted bodies of Metropolis Firestars cheerleaders, surrounded by
weeping parents. 

"What happened to the Supergirl uniforms, I- I don’t understand."

Special Lexcorp SWAT proton rifles leveled at her from all directions. Then Supergirl saw the
group of supergirls who she had executed the lawnmower maneuver on. They laid in a big heap,
Firestars was their common uniform, not supergirls, but cheerleaders, whose lives had just been cut
short. And then there was the bits of flesh and limbs from the ones frozen and exploded, and
Supergirl spotted another tangled grotesquely against the trunk of a tree just barely visible from
where she was standing. 

"Supergirl, you know, we have everything on video. There are thousands of fans that are
eyewitnesses. You acted alone. Every one of those girls had families, some had children. This is a
very dark day for Metropolis. The city appreciates what you’ve done in the past. But as many
things go bad, the justice system must deal with them. No one is above the law, Supergirl. And that
includes you. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you
in a court of law..."

The words suddenly faded out of Supergirl’s ears and all she could hear was screaming. Screaming
and an evil laughter. "Supergirl, you haven’t the slightest idea what ‘living in reality’" means....
Reality check!"

Supergirl felt nauseous and woozy all in one moment. As high energy protons beams short circuited
even her super body, she fell to the astroturf and curled into a ball. High above, two figures floated
and watched, hidden by a cloud. They turned to each other and embraced, their mouths devouring
each other, their hands roaming freely between each others legs. One looked like Supergirl. The
other was the new supervillian trump card, Deux Trudi, the new queen of the Metropolis
underworld. 

Below them, police searchlights swirled and an SCU turbolift with a dozen Lexcorp armored flying
patrol bots disappeared into the night, with the prone body of Supergirl. 

MORNING - METROPOLIS EQUIVALENT OF
SILICON VALLEY

As the sun came up, two smartly dressed businesswomen walked out of the elevator doors on six
and up to the reception desk. "My name’s Denise Trudeau and this is Zira, my assistant. We’re
here to see the chairman of SP Future Industrials. We don’t have an appointment but we’re sure if
you give us five minutes of your time, we’ll be doing business for the next 50 years. Let’s just say
we’re in need of financing, or better yet, financial resources. " The receptionist looked blankly at
them, and said "The Chairman was killed last night in a freak accident at Metropolis Civic, there
was a huge slaughter... Supergirl went bezerk, killed like 50 people, including the entire
cheerleading squad - WIERD!" 

Denise and Zira looked at each other suspiciously, "We heard about that... terrible, terrible. But
about business. Not to be crass, but a billion dollar company never stands still. Who runs the
company now?"

The receptionist pointed to a picture on the wall. "The widow."

Denise smiled cautiously, "Then she is who want to see."

"If you insist. $50 bucks says they toss you out on your but within 5 minutes." The receptionist
sighed. "Down the hall to the security area on the right.... if you get in, it’s the hugest freaking office
you’ll ever see. It’s almost the entire wing of the building. Ta-tah."

"Zira..." Denise motioned and the two powerful professional women strutted down the hall towards
a security desk and a man with a gun. 

"Ladies. Your credentials please." 

"Zira, show the officer our credentials." Zira’s eyes orange glow produced the familiar ribbons, at
first mystifying to the officer, then piercing, burning and destroying. Without a sound, the man
slumped back into his chair, no eyes where eyes should be, just burnt out sockets and a deathy
gape to his mouth. 

"I think we’ve got our appointment." Denise quipped with a casual deadly exactness pioneered by
Lex Luther. And the two walked into the office of the widow.

FADE OUT.

It was really a strange time in Metropolis. Supergirl hadn’t been seen in 2 days. The SCU SWAT
escort that took her from the scene hadn’t turned up at Strykers supercriminal detention facility. 

A side door to the office tower opened, and two security guards escorted a blonde streetwalker
roughly out of the guilding. She was very upscale and stumbled from their push. She wore a dark
blue stretch lycra single piece dress. Pigs!

Her hourglass figure caught the attention of a red haired woman working at her computer 5 floors
above the street. She didn’t want to be distracted, so she pulled the blinds down and began
working on her story for the Hillside Tribune, a smaller gazette style tabloid newspaper, but then...
she scooted her chair back over to the window and peeked out. JUNE MURO was 25 and herself
a gorgeous 5’ 5 and today she was wearingly only a long t-shirt, her work clothes while writing,
and a pair of fuzzy slippers. She tilted her glasses down and then took them off and switching off
the lights, flipped a switch on a tv monitor connected to some sort of camera attached to the
outside of the building. On the monitor appeared a close up of an office desk in the 7th floor down
the street which her window faced. The telescopic lens was powerful enough to show the surface
of the desk in great detail, she could even read the paperwork. A little spy work could get her
some great stories to tell, particularly about the very wealthy but extremely reclusive business
dealings of SONDRA PINCHUK, now a reported billionairess, who yesterday amidst a shroud of
secrecy, had taken the whole 7th floor of the tower for an unknown venture. June hadn’t
discovered anything interesting yet, except maybe that Sondra really liked women and she had the
money and influence to have a stream of very big breasted, long legged "assistants" working with
her in her private offices around the clock. How they put together the 7th floor facility so quickly
was astounding. It must have cost millions just for the speed they got up and running, whatever it
was they did.

A couple of times over the past day and a half, June had seen what she was calling in her
investigative reporter piece, the "dungeon." You see, Sondra was so fond of watching her shapely
employees, the whole office was lined with mirrors. You couldn’t escape a reflection, or a series of
them. And thanks to so many mirrors, June’s high powered specs could peer into about any room
in that building, merely by reflection. In the center of the floor, there was what probably looked like
a gymnasium to visitors. A place for employees to keep in shape, keep the insurance costs down
and to discourage smoking. That. That was the dungeon. Sondra was an incurable nymphomaniac
and from what June had seen, also a closet dominatrix. June loved this job, it was a great alibi and
she got to live out her great voyuerist fantasies from across the street, in complete safety. There
was Sondra now, wearing a too tight luxurious silver white tube top, black lycra tights and very
high heeled golden spiked heels. As sexy a sight as Sondra was, rummaging on her desk, and
finally pushing a button and speaking into an intercom, June swirled the joystick and the camera
zipped away down to the street level. June’s breath came short as she focused on the amazing girl
in blue, tits that wouldn’t quit, and June’s nipples went erect, and a dark wet stain appeared on her
T-shirt between her legs... The girl in blue walked down the winding road and paused at the bus
stop. She swayed a bit, like she was high on some drug, typical, June thought, a high priced call-girl
going to an upscale party, but why was she leaving from the business hill district. It didn’t quite
make sense. Those kinds of girls would be arriving in another couple of hours, not leaving. The
5:05pm transit for downtown Metropolis was 2 blocks away and closing fast. As the sun sunk on
the horizon the bus stopped a block away, a group of colorfully dressed burly punks, girls and guys
all in their early 20s boarded the bus and took up the front 4 rows. That was really curious June
thought as she rolled videotape on this image. Gang members from dockside, the colors told her.
June got off on crime reporting and investigation. She’d do it full time if she could but a girl’s gotta
make a living. The bus’ brakes hissed and the rapid transit special moved up to the next block and
the doors opened. And the girl in blue got on.. Behind her, an elderly man who rummaged for his
change held things up. The girl in blue eyed the quarter bus load of bright colors with a suspicious
glance and moved down the aisle to the back where there were seats. 

"What’s your rush? There’s a seat right here." An imposing dreadlocked buffed out gang guy
taunted, blocking the girl’s way with his massive muscled arm. The bus driver turned to the back
nervously as the old man retreated from the entry and walked back down the street at a quick
pace. 

"You’ll let the lady through, and you’ll get off my bus, Mister." The Bus Driver threatened, lifting his
radio intercom. 

A bloom of red exploded on the front windshield and the driver’s cap twisted sideways indicating
the angle of the broken neck of the driver, not to mention the bullethole in the bridge of his nose.
The girl screamed as she felt a hand on her waist and from behind, another gang girl looked as if
she had just snapped a brilliant silver colored choker collar around her neck with a small blinking
electronic light. Everything was happening so quickly, she wasn’t sure what she was seeing, but it
was incredible. And she had it all on tape! When the girl in blue twisted around to meet her
assailant, she met instead the palm of the giant girl’s fist, slapping her to the floor of the bus. 

"AAHHH! <<MOAN>>" June’s head snapped back and her body shook as she came. She
smeared the wetness up and down her T-shirt, turning her on even more, as the moisture made the
shirts where her nipples pushed out, translucent. "What am I doing???!!" June shook the cobwebs
out of her head. She was such an action junkie, she was missing the point here. A lady was getting
mugged on that bus and she wasn’t doing anything about it. But then her hands found her breasts
wanting, and she massaged and caressed as she watched a dozen hands fonding the huge tits of the
girl in blue. And then someone pulled a switchblade and started ripping the blue dress up the
middle. As the dress tore, the girl screamed and suddenly there was a brilliant red color as the knife
rose between her thighs slicing the dress off the hips. Then a splash of yellow belting and as the
knife travelled up across the abdomen and into her cleavage, revealing the most beautiful sight June
had ever laid eyes on, a big red and yellow "S" logo. June gasped.

"Sweet MOTHER!, It’s SUPERGIRL!!!!" June’s mouth gaped and she nearly passed out. "Oh
god... how is that possible... She’s so powerful, and there’s a fucking manhunt going on for her.
June didn’t believe what the papers said about her guilt. With supercriminals there is always the
game, frame-the-superhero going on, she didn’t buy it, but GAWD, it was Supergirl and she’s
being pushed around by those regular street punks. The collar, the collar, it must be that. Maybe
it’s Kryptonite! What the fuck am I going to do. I’m the only witness. They killed the bus driver,
and now...." June fumbled for the phone and dialed 911. A recorded message said the lines were
all busy, but if you wait, someone will be right with you. June slammed down the phone. 

June turned back to the monitor and nearly threw up. The largest musclebound male was unzipping
his pants, pulling out <<<UHHNN>>> a huge cock... 

"June Muro, get a hold of yourself! It’s only an erection!... it’s just... so big..." June grabbed her tits
and started to jiggle them slightly, bouncing them through her T-shirt. Then she buried her left hand
into her pussy and shook her chest back and forth like a Las Vegas dancer, her huge boobs
quivering under the tight T-shirt. June was, unfortunately for some, an incurable sex freak herself.
She loved to watch. The guy with the huge cock lowered himself down, and because Supergirl was
laying in the bus aisle feet closest to the front, June could see everything. The guy lifted her skirt,
and pulled the thin blue lycra strip to the side, left her <<GASP>> wide open. She was looking
right at Supergirl’s vagina. The Girl of Steel’s pussy lips. June couldn’t control herself and found
herself mouthing , "Fuck her... do it..."

June came violently when she watched Supergirl’s hips arch up into the air when this cock, which
must have been bigger than anything she had ever taken before, nearly ripped her skin it was so
huge, and long, ramming deep into the Girl of Steel, the shocks of the last bus of the day rocking
slightly. There weren’t many patrols up here at this time of night, so the likelihood of a passing cop
car was remote. How could Supergirl allow the penetration. It ‘s got to be the collar. She could
see Supergirl clawing at her neck, gripping the device, unable to free herself. And then she saw the
gang girls hands groping at Supergirl’s "S", slipping their hands down her cleavage, massaging her
massive mammares, stimulating the nipples keeping them rock hard, like little stones. Another guy
kept his feet on the edges of her cape, pinning her down, and one by one, each of the guys took
turns fucking the Girl of Steel silly. And the girls ran their fingers over her tits, and lowered their
own pussies onto Supergirl’s face, forcing her to lick. Then the biggest male lifted the struggling
Maid of Might into the air by her cape, and then forcing her arms behind her back, motioned to the
big girl at the back who hadn’t yet touched the Girl of Steel. Her arms tensed, fists clenching and
unclenching. She slipped on some dark grey gauntlets, equipped with short spike pummeling points
on the knuckles. This woman had short cropped hair and a bright orange lipstick. Black makeup
around her eyes made her seem catlike, the makeup on her left eye had been fashioned to look like
a drop of black blood was dripping over her cheek. She smiled broadly, revealing one of her
canines was solid gold and it glimmered in the fading light. Suddenly she yelled launching forward,
her fists lashing out like a silenced tommygun and she saw Supergirl buck and struggle like never
before as this killer’s pointed gauntlets smashed like deadly battering rams into Supergirl’s
stomach. Supergirl had tensed her herculean abdominal muscles, but her twisting and gritting teeth,
and then the sudden screaming told June that Supergirl was in very big trouble. June couldn’t
believe what she was seeing, the gauntlet’s spiked tips, although now twisting and blunted were
tearing small 1/4" holes in Supergirl’s costume. 

Gauntlet girl continued her assault and soon Supergirl’s costume over her abs looked frayed, like it
had been sanded almost all the way through, dozens of pinhole punches scored the invulneralbe
fabric. and she could see her stomach heaving in and out, which meant her muscles were giving out,
as if Supergirl’s tough abs were being hit by a giant tenderizer over and over. Then the gauntlet
swung up in one mighty punch which scarred Supergirl’s cheek, and from the look of it, probably
shattered her jaw as she rendered the Princess of Power unconscious. June figured as much when
Supergirl’s wide, staring eyes, devoid of control, wobbled as her head twisted to "look" directly at
June’s camera direction. The shot from the June’s angle also showed how really terrific Supergirl’s
tits were. Her arched back, let the camera look right down under her "S" as her breasts distorted
the logo wildly with their radical curves. The gauntlet girl grasped Supergirl’s cape and dragging her
to the door kicked out the damaged goods that used to be Supergirl onto the sidewalk near an
alcoved side entrance to Pinchuk’s building. Supergirl’s blonde hair twisted over her face and the
remains of her blue dress still hung on her arms. 

And the bus pulled out, and swung around to a straighter downhill sidestreet. Just as the bus began
to head downhill towards the Warfside restaurant directly ahead nearly a quarter mile below, the
gang unloaded, jumping from the still slowmoving bus, tumbling and rolling, into the bushes and
running back into the neighborhood, back to their hangouts to watch their handiwork on the
evening news June thought. But the bus! Picking up speed, the huge transit bus, finally disappeared
from her camera’s view as the terrain dropped too dramatically to capture. There was peace and
silence. Maybe the bus would crash into a car before it did any real damage. 

A TV broadcast chryoned "special live newsreport " interrupted the post Superbowl victory
parade coverage on the Warfside sportsbar room’s bigscreen; the news featured a wildly careening
transit bus, colliding with parking cars, sparks exploding from its underside. Josh turned to the
female bartender and commented, that’s crazy’s it must be doing 70, where in the world did that
happen - oh, it’s live, turn up the volume!" The barkeep dried a mug squeaky clean with her towel
and looked at Josh, who was staring wideeyed, frozen like a deer, glued to the window next to her.
"Josh? Earth, to Josh. No more for you buddy." Susan immediately lost her grip on the mug and
fumbling like a madwoman for it, she bounced it back in the air once, and caught it with her pinky
mere millimeters from the tile floor. She looked up, WHEW. Josh! Now THAT was a intercept! I
should play for Metropolis... they might have won the fucking Superbowl with me on the team."
But Josh was no where to be seen. Before she could stand the room imploded and a giant 70 mile
an hour wall of steel sheared the roof off the sportsbar, taking everything over 5 feet from the
ground with it into the ocean. And then came the avalanche of glass which buried everything in 2
inches of little safety glass shardettes. 

Susan stood up, pee running down her legs as she watched the giant bus flip end up in the water
and sunk like the Titanic. "Fuck me now." Susan said with no blood in her face and fainted dead
away, the beermug shattering into the chaos of rubble on the floor, her hand still gripping the
handle..

June played with her nipples, squeezing, replaying the video. She had been the first in the world to
capture on videotape, someone knocking out the Girl of Steel! She would have never gotten the
opportunity working her desk in Gotham. Still, justice had to be served. June got up, her muscular
legs, tensing, and she pulled the T-shirt over her head, struggling to get it over her hair, her perfect
breasts and shaved pussy swinging and jerking as she got rid of her clothes. She jumped over the
bed to a paneled closet and hit a side moulding a secret button. The panel slid away and her own
uniform hung before her. A black cowl, atop a midnight blue cape and black catsuit, although she
didn’t like to call it a "catsuit", others she knew had that evil distinction. As she squirmed her way
into the one-piece silky costume, she pulled it up over her breasts, stretching out the bright yellow
winged logo which was a much more familiar sight on the streets of Gotham City. She slipped her
tumbling red hair through the opening in the cowl and let the lightweight cape flow over her
shoulders. She grabbed a bright yellow ballistic Kevlar ultilty belt, complete with a boomarang-like
device and some really effective nerve gas "spasm" pellets. 

"Since Supergirl isn’t able - This is a job for BATGIRL!" She smiled, I always wanted to say that...
and lunged out the open side window, hyperextending her right arm flinging her batarang out
around a flagpole with bodycable in tow, giving her just enough rope to catch the fire escape on the
building right next to the Pinchuk tower. A quick flick of the wrist and the ‘rang dislodged and
sailed back from the flagpole, it’s towrope zipping back inside Batgirl’s utility belt. As soon as the
batlogo shaped batarang was back in her hand, she flung it out again, this time to Pinchuk’s 7th
story balcony grille and used it to repel down the side of the steel tower to the prone form of the
defiled Supergirl. Batgirl landed on her fours like a cat, silently. She slapped Supergirl lightly on the
face but she was out cold. Batgirl put her hand to Supergirl’s chest, thank God.. still a heartbeat.
She put her lips to the Girl of Steel and started mouth to mouth resucitation, breathing in, breathing
out. Sharing their breaths... hoping she would regain consciousness. Supergirl’s lungs were so
strong, even when unconscious they were unbelievably difficult to fill with air and Batgirl began to
sweat. She found her eyes wandering down Supergirl’s body, lingering on the "S", judging
Supergirl’s breast size, and smiling, not as big as me... she thought. And her legs, they looked
powerful, but mine have better definition. Batgirl found herself hugely aroused. Her she was vitually
making out with the Girl of Steel. If only she was conscious. Then as if granted her wish, Supergirl
responded to Batgirl’s lips and as she came out of her haze, as in a dream somewhere, Supergirl
thrust her tongue out through Batgirl’s lips, into her hot mouth.

"MMMM!" June responded... "Supergirl... you’re so fantastic... I - <<<OOOH!>>>" Batgirl
nearly creamed her costume as she felt Supergirl’s hands on her tits. "Supergirl... you don’t know...
I dream about making love to-- <<<GGGAAAAHHHGGG>>>"

Batgirl was suddenly arching her back forward and being lifted to her feet, as her body pulsed with
the electric shock of a 200 volt stungun. Her costume could usually protect her from normal
weapons of this sort, but this was so powerful and she was totally unprepared. She felt the sharp
stun spikes jabbing through her costume in the small of her back, into her skin. Right before she
collapsed into the deep black cloud of knockout, she saw Supergirl also arching her hips forward,
grasping the rapidly blinking collar locked around her neck and the golden heeled feet which could
only belong to the billionairess, Sondra Pinchuk herself, the newly widowed financier. Sondra
opened the panel door behind the fallen Batgirl and two other familiar women dragged the two
fallen superheroines into the Pinchuk tower. Sondra fixed her makeup in a compac. She wasn’t old
for a widow., late 30s, but now she was very very wealthy and very powerful. Her husband’s will
specified control of the business and all material accounts were to go to her. Wait a tragedy, his
death. Sondra smiled and she and her conspirators disappeared into a dark elevator headed for the
"dungeon". In actuality, Sondra had been planning on getting rid of her husband for over a year and
a half now, and here, Supergirl, the defender of Metrpolis had been pinned with his murder. And
she loved SP Future Industrial (SPFI), or she liked to call it "spiffy" (Sondra Pinchuk for those of
you who haven’t been paying attention), Her company now. And her science and technology
division that had come up with the retrofire energy chambers used proprietarily in Lexcorp’s
SWAT weapons they sold to the SCU. Including the one that took down the Girl of Steel on
Sunday night. High energy phase weapons were great for intensifying the normal signals that ran
anyone’s brain, Supergirl’s included. And if you can intensify, Sondra knew, you could amplify,
and overload. She used a similar technology in this newly tested device, a phase-frequency lock
restraining collar. With a remote control of course, to control the level of confusion and pain. You
could take an emotion, and boost it to ridiculous levels, You could do the saime with pain, trick the
brain into thinking it was firiing neuron receptors, like you were being cut with a knife, but in reality
you weren’t. 

Sondra loved altering reality and her new superpowered and very well endowed business
associates were the key to making sure the technology stayed in her hands alone. And they in fact
had amazing, wonderful experimental ventures of their own which she would finance. Ventures that
would put the very powerful into her grip. Like this Batgirl, so sexy, laying there unconscious by
mere electrical shock, slumped in the elevator. She would break Batgirl. Supergirl was another
matter. Without the collar, she was uncontrollable. But with her two new lovers, the mastermind
Deux and the deliciously powerful anti-supergirl Bizarro, she would find a way. 

Sondra suddenly couldn’t stand it. She hit the stop on the elevator and turned doe eyed at Deux
and Bizarra. Deux spoke a word or two and genstured, and the elevator was filled with soap
bubbles. Sondra still wasn’t sure whether the bubbles were real, or if she just thought they were.
Deux had amazing magical powers that she didn’t understand, but in a way they were very similar
to her own superscience proton phase devices. Simulating experience. Tricking the brain into
thinking, reality is something other than what it is. The three women’s hands were suddenly all over
each other in a lustful threeway feel-out. They had money, power and the sexiest bodies in
Metropolis, particularly now after the "untimely" demise of the world-class multi award winning
Metropolis Firestars. It was right her, in this elevator going nowhere fast, that the deadliest criminal
organization was ratified. The Triad came into existence. 

Glossary

Deux Trudi (aka Denise Trudeau) 35

Bizarra (aka Zira) dimensional clone

June Munro (aka Batgirl)

Sonda Pinchuk (late 30s)

widow

heir to the SP Future Industrials (SPFI) (aka "spiffy") fortune

High Energy Phase Weapons

Collar

Proton rifles

Metropolis Civic Center

Metropolis Firestars

