New Orders

[Bobinho19]

You know what I love about AI? You can expand, revise, rewrite, edit or continue your favorite story. Here's one from Evelyn York. Part 1 pretty close to the original; Part 2 is entirely new. So if you like anything about Part 1, credit to the OG author. If you hate anything about this, blame me.

Project SG
New Orders
By Evelyn York, Expanded and Revised by Bobinho19

Part 1

A bit of explanation: Katie O'Grady is the sole survivor of a group of men and women who were enhanced with alien DNA to give them the powers of Superman/girl. She's vastly exceeded the agency's expectation of her strength and powers. The agency has given up trying to enhance anyone else for the moment.

In this episode, the agency is concerned with accommodating sexual needs – which isn't easy, and especially isn't easy on any normal partner, But the agency thinks it's found the right man this time.

Desiree picked up Lieutenant Ken Dahl in her Corvette at Gate One of the Naval Academy in Annapolis. He was in his dress blue uniform and had come straight from his briefing on his new orders. He got into the passenger's side and began the long trip to Herndon, Virginia.

"Lieutenant" said Desiree "You have been chosen for a unique and very dangerous assignment. I believe the director told you about the woman you will be working for."

"Yes, she's been genetically altered somehow, and I'm supposed to serve in every way, even sexually."

"That's right. You still have the opportunity to decline this assignment. I am authorized to give you all the details about her. But you must know that this woman is the most secret weapon in our arsenal. Disclosure of even the smallest detail about her could have the gravest consequences for the nation, and for you."

"I understand."

"I hope you do."

"Can you tell me some more about her?"

"Alright, please understand the gravity of what you are asking, though."

"I do."

"You are about to become a close personal assistant, an aide, a servant to someone very special. And you may not refuse any request she makes of you."

"Any?"

"Any. You are to serve her every need and whim. Especially her sexual desires."

"Wow. I'd been briefed on this before, but until now it never hit me."

"In about thirty minutes you are about to meet the woman who is known to the agency as Supergirl."

"Supergirl?"

"Yes, Supergirl. She is a genetically altered woman whose biology has been altered to give her powers and abilities vastly beyond those of normal men. Her actual name is Katie O'Grady."

"What do I call her?"

"Whatever she tells you to call her. Simply put, you are her slave for this tour of duty. And, make no mistake. Supergirl can do with you exactly as she pleases."

"Incredible. What powers and abilities does she have?"

"First and foremost, her physical strength is thousands of times greater than the strongest man on earth. Supergirl could lift this car easily with just the strength in her little finger, and not even chip a nail. The first thing you may notice about her are her muscles. They are immeasurably dense and capable of exerting hundreds of tons of force. The day after she completed enhancement, Supergirl picked up a ten foot long steel beam and easily bent it into a knot."

"Amazing"

"Secondly, she can fly. No airplane required. Supergirl is capable of hypersonic flight, faster than even the fastest aircraft. Supergirl can circle the world in a matter of minutes. We believe that her powers will allow her to fly in space -- so a trip to the moon is planned in the near future."

Dahl was speechless. Desiree went on.

"Third, she is invulnerable to every weapon we have tested on her. The density of her muscles is so great that her body is orders of magnitude harder than steel. Two days after her enhancement was completed, I watched her take thirty rounds from a heavy machine gun in the chest from ten feet away. Supergirl just stood there with her hands on her hips, smiling as the rounds bounced off like so many peas. We've tried lasers and heavier guns on her as well with the same effect. To Supergirl, guns are just a joke.

"And then there are her eyes. Supergirl can see though solid objects up to the density of lead. Her vision is immeasurably superior to normal human vision. She can see the tiniest objects from miles away, and one more thing."

"What?"

"Supergirl's eyes can project and immensely powerful beam of coherent light, more powerful than a laser."

"Anything else?"

"Lots. She can move so fast as to be barely visible to the naked eye. All her senses and physical capabilities are immensely greater than those of ordinary men."

"So she's faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound?"

"Yes, that's why Katie O'Grady is called Supergirl."

"So why do you need me?"

"Katie is, first and foremost, a woman. She may make every man on Earth look like a pathetic weakling, but she is extremely feminine and very intelligent. Quite simply, she needs a man for those things a woman needs a man for."

"And you asked me."

"Because we looked around and thought that you might be the kind of man who Katie would like. Do you think that you'll be intimidated by a woman who is so totally superior to you in every conceivable way?"

Ken sat back stunned. He'd never thought about that before. Ken sat back and thought about all that Desiree had said.

"Here, maybe this will help." Said Desiree, handing Ken a file of large glossy photos.

He pulled open the envelope and pulled out a picture. It was of Katie in glasses, tailored blue business suit with miniskirt, white blouse with a wide collar spread on the outside of the jacket. Sitting on the edge of her desk, Ken gazed at her legs, garbed in hose, and the modestly heeled pumps.

Next he gazed upon a photo that made him gasp. There she was, Supergirl, looking every inch a Girl of Steel. She stood with her fists on her hips and breasts thrust out against the "S" on her chest, the long red cape flapping in the wind, her legs spread apart with shiny red boots rising to a point at her knees. Supergirl was gazing off into an infinite distance that she probably could see very clearly. She was on top of a very tall building and an American flag was flapping in the breeze behind her.

The next photo had Katie in the same pose and location but in the blue business suit and glasses. The fourth photo had her in a black sequined string bikini -- lifting a huge tank over her head with one hand. And the last photo was of her in costume, grabbing the bars of a jail cell and bending them outwards.

Ken gulped. She was beautiful beyond anything he had ever seen, but he would be utterly helpless before her. If she was as strong and powerful as Desiree had said, no force on earth could stop her. He was about to accept a job as Supergirl's boy toy.

"No problem," he said. "Tell me, why did you enhance a woman instead of a man?"

"They all died in the experiments. Two other women also died in the experiments. At first we enhanced one man and one woman at a time. There were three couples. Katie is the only survivor, although in each case the woman was many times stronger and more powerful than the man. It was an interesting case of role reversal."

"I'll bet," he thought to himself.

"And Supergirl has badly hurt a man in the course of love-making before?" Ken asked.

"Yes" said Desiree. "Supergirl is super everywhere, and I do mean everywhere."

"What does she like?"

"You'll have to find that out from her."

Ken kept gazing at the photographs until they pulled up in from of Supergirl's Herndon, Virginia townhouse about an hour later. Desiree and the lieutenant got out of the car and walked up to the door. Desiree hit an electronic keying device and the door opened. They both walked into the beautiful entryway. Desiree led him up the steps into the sitting room with the balcony looking to the west.

Desiree guided Lt. Dahl into the sitting room at just the right moment for him to meet her charge. As they stepped into the room, the automatic doors on the balcony swung open, and the mighty Girl of Steel glided slowly downward, her red cape and red miniskirt flowed upwards with the wind. The lieutenant was shocked, and his face showed it, but he was also totally entranced by her beauty. Desiree and he watched as her red boots clicked on the balcony, as she settled from air to ground. The lieutenant felt a tingle as he looked upon her beauty and incredible body. He noted how tight the blue body suit was, the muscles in her arms shown clearly, as well as her abdominal muscles; and then his eyes fell on the swell of her mighty breasts as they pushed out and distorted the "S" on her chest. Desiree was right. Supergirl was every inch a beautiful, mighty muscle-goddess.
"Lieutenant Dahl, this is Supergirl." And then, turning to the Girl of Steel, "Supergirl, this is your new aide, Lieutenant Ken Dahl. I'll let you two alone so you can get acquainted."

"Desiree, Desiree! I thought we talked about this?"

"We did, and here he is anyway. Ta-ta!"

Desiree hurried out the door.

Supergirl glared at her for a second as Desiree scooted out the door. She turned to the man and faced him with a pained look on her face. Supergirl folded her arms under her breasts, lifting their large firmness upward, as she sighed. He gazed at her beauty, and was totally entranced. His heart raced faster as he watched the "S" on her chest swell even larger. "Yes" he thought. "Supergirl is the right name for her."

Suddenly she relaxed and smiled slightly.

"Hi" said Supergirl, extending her hand to him.

"Hi" he said back to her, and started to extend his hand, hesitated for a second and then took her hand.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you." Said Supergirl with a condescending smile.

Ken smiled nervously as he took her hand. It felt warm, and incredibly powerful.

"I'm pleased to meet you Supergirl."

"I'm pleased to meet you too."

Supergirl dropped her eyes and turned from him. Her long silken red cape flared out and brushed against his arm. He felt every inch of its silken softness. Ken looked up at her and saw how beautiful Supergirl was from behind. Her broad shoulders and muscular arms were clearly visible beside the grand and beautiful vision of her cape.

"Lieutenant, I'm very uncomfortable with this arrangement. In my heart, I think this is the wrong thing to do. This was Desiree's idea."

"Supergirl, I did volunteer for this assignment."

"I know, but don't you think it's wrong?"

"Well, no. You're vital to America's defense. You have needs, ones that I can help with."

Supergirl turned quickly and looked at him. Her cape flared out and her boots grabbed his eye as she stepped toward him. Supergirl was magnificent, the ultimate ultra-feminine, ultra-powerful, superhuman muscle-girl. Ken melted with the vision of her.

"Not only wrong, Lieutenant, but dangerous. Very dangerous for you in particular. You know that I very nearly killed a man through intimacy?"

"Yes. Desiree told me."

"And that doesn't scare you?"

"No, it doesn't scare me. I think we can come up with ways that I can satisfy your needs and remain unhurt."

Supergirl then smiled a rather smug smile and walked toward him.

"Perhaps," she said in a voice as silky as her cape, "I,d like to see you try." Resting one hand on her hip, this goddess of perfection ran her eyes down over Ken, starting at the top of his head and slowly sweeping her gaze the whole way down to his feet on the floor.

Having been warned about her x-ray vision, Lieutenant Dahl didn't flinch or move, but waited with bated breath while Supergirl perused his body ˆ straight through his uniform, he presumed. He simply stood still and let her look.

When she raised her eyes back to his, the smug smile still on her face, he asked her quietly, "Did you like what you saw?"

Supergirl covered her momentary surprise well. "Hmph, she really did tell you a lot about me, didn't she?"

Obviously, this was a reference to Desiree, and a rhetorical one at that. Ken did not answer, but held his ground..... indicating, he hoped, that he was unafraid, and that he was willing -- eager -- to be taken by her.

"You haven't answered my question," he said instead.

The Princess of Power laughed. "I saw enough to know that you like what you see, Lieutenant," she told him with a nod at his groin.

It was true; Ken's penis was well on its way to a full erection. The thought of touching this superhuman vision of beauty was overwhelming him. He struggled to swallow, wetting his throat enough that he could speak coherently. It was just as Desiree had said, "...All her senses and physical capabilities are immensely greater than those of ordinary men.... she is extremely feminine and very intelligent." He knew what that meant, knew exactly what he had to do -- he just had to force himself to find the willpower in himself to do it. He could not, WOULD NOT, fail this mission!
With every bit of strength he had, Lieutenant Dahl forced himself to smile calmly at the muscled goddess who stood before him, giggling because she could see his genitals through his pants. He kept his own gaze on her gorgeous steel-gray eyes, and spoke in his deepest, most soothing voice.
"But it's not just about what we can see, is it, Supergirl?" He dared to take a step toward her, and gestured lightly with his arm toward the lovely Victorian settee. "Please come sit and talk to me. Regardless of anything else, I'd really like to talk to you."

"Sure," Supergirl responded, almost a tad too quickly -- could he actually have succeeded in flustering her? "But let me just get changed into something else. I find that I'm actually starting to feel, well, silly, standing here in this...." and she gestured down at herself, almost apologetically. "I'll be quick."

"Take your time," Ken responded, but he might as well have saved his breath. Before he got the whole sentence out, Supergirl was gone and back -- returning in a pair of tight, white denim designer jeans and a diaphanous peach-colored silk blouse. On her feet were three inch high open-heel wooden sandals. Ken gulped again at the sight of the blouse -- its front was bisected by a row of gleaming pearlescent buttons, and the pockets that sat on each of Supergirl,s enormous breasts were topped with detailed embroidery and sparkling sequins. The way the light flashed on the sequins made it appear as if her steely breasts were topped with nipples of diamond.

Ken was once again shocked at unbelievable speed with which the Girl of Steel had changed into an outfit every bit as sexy and exciting as the red cape, blue bodysuit, miniskirt and boots. He tried his best to keep his composure, watching the firm thrust of her breasts and the rippling muscles of her abs and arms, all under the beautiful and delicate covering of the raw silk. The sheer fabric did little to hide the already prominent outline of her nipples beneath the embroidered pockets.

She sat delicately at the end of the settee and drew her legs up underneath her. She turned to him expectantly and waited for him to make the next verbal move. He smiled at her and drew a breath, wondering where to start.
"Tell me. What is it like to be Supergirl? What does it feel like?" Ken asked

She liked the sound of the question immediately and warmed to the topic. "What does it feel like? It feels fantastic. It means always being physically perfect. More amazing every day when I discover more things I can do. Things I alone can do and no one else on earth."

"That must be wonderful. You're so, well, superior. Vastly superior. Not simply to ordinary women, but to men as well. How does that feel?"

"Hmmm, I do try to keep that feeling under control. That can be a bit dangerous to look at myself that way. But it feels so secure to be like this. Especially with men. There's not a man on earth who I can't have or beat at anything."

"Wow, that's incredible. Have you ever given into that feeling? Ever have the desire to just show off?"

"No, not really," said the magnificent muscle-girl, though a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.

"Really? Supergirl... I mean, Katie. That outfit..." he stammered, gesturing vaguely at her blouse.

"Please call me Katie. At least when I'm dressed like this. Do you like this blouse and jeans?"

She stood up, turning to face him fully. Placing her hands firmly on her hips, she deliberately pushed her chest forward, accentuating the already impressive swell beneath the delicate peach silk. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face as she focused her gaze intently on Ken.

Ken watched, mesmerized, as the already taut fabric over her breasts grew even tighter. The sequins glittered intensely. Then, he saw it – the points beneath the embroidered pockets sharpened, pressing outward with impossible force. Her nipples hardened to diamond-like points, their superhuman rigidity straining against the fragile silk.

With two distinct, soft rip sounds, the delicate fabric directly over each nipple tore open. Small, ragged holes appeared in the peach silk, revealing the incredibly hard, aroused peaks beneath. The torn edges of the silk frayed slightly around the openings.

Katie looked down at the torn blouse, then back up at Ken, her smile widening into a confident smirk. "See? Even fine silk can't always handle me," she said, her voice a low purr. "Sometimes... things just get a little intense."
Ken sat there, utterly speechless, his mouth slightly agape. His eyes were fixed on the small tears in the fabric and the undeniable evidence of her superhuman arousal beneath. He struggled to process the casual, yet incredibly intimate, display of power. He finally managed to swallow, his throat dry.

"My goodness..." he trailed off, unable to form a complete sentence.

Katie laughed, a clear, musical sound. "Still think I'm not showing off, Ken?"

"I... uh..." Ken stammered, colour rising in his cheeks. "It's... vivid, Katie. Very vivid."

"I'm glad you noticed," she said, the smirk softening slightly. "Even though I'm thousands of times stronger than any man on earth, I don't want you to forget I'm a woman. A woman with... certain reactions."

"No," Ken managed, his voice husky. "No chance of forgetting that."

"Now, just what did you say to Desiree? A superhuman muscle-goddess?" Katie asked, striking a deliberate double bicep pose despite the torn blouse, flexing muscles that rippled with power beneath the silk and denim. She smiled broadly at him, clearly enjoying his reaction.

"She told you that my body is totally invulnerable, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"Bullets just harmlessly bounce off my body. Even here." She nonchalantly tapped a finger against one of the torn openings in her blouse, directly against her hardened nipple. "Makes them tingle a bit, actually." She paused, letting her hand drift down to rest on her hip again, her expression turning thoughtful, almost clinical, yet still intensely captivating.

"But 'invulnerable' doesn't quite capture it, does it? It's more than just hardness. It's... perfection. Absolute physical perfection, down to the cellular level." She ran a hand slowly down her side, over the curve of her hip encased in tight denim. "My skin? Flawless. Not a single blemish, scar, or imperfection anywhere. It regenerates instantly. It's smoother than the finest silk, yet tougher than tank armor. My muscles," she flexed her bicep again, the definition sharp and clear even through the silk, "are impossibly dense, perfectly sculpted. They never tire, never ache, never falter. Every fiber is aligned for maximum power and efficiency. My bones are lattices of superhuman strength, completely unbreakable."

She tilted her head, her gaze piercing. "Even my senses are perfect. I can hear your heart beating faster right now, Ken. I can see the microscopic fibers in the carpet across the room. I can feel the slightest shift in air pressure. This body... it's the pinnacle of biological engineering. Stronger, faster, tougher, more resilient, more aware than anything nature could ever produce. It doesn't just resist damage; it's practically immune to the concept of flaws."
She stepped a fraction closer, the intensity in her eyes almost overwhelming. "Imagine feeling that, Ken. Knowing, absolutely, that your physical form is without equal, without weakness. That's what it's like."

"Woooooooooooowwwwww," Ken breathed, his earlier reaction seeming inadequate now. He felt completely mesmerized by her description, by the sheer confidence and power radiating from her.

Katie let the silence hang for a moment, observing him. Then, her expression shifted again, becoming more practical, though still holding a hint of challenge. She gestured towards her chest, encompassing the large, firm curves beneath the torn silk.

"Which brings me to a practical question, Lieutenant. Part of your duties involves assisting me with... well, everything. And I find myself wondering about certain... conventional necessities." She paused, letting him absorb the implication.

"Bras," she stated plainly. "Normal women require them for support, comfort, shaping. But..." She shrugged slightly, a gesture that made the muscles in her shoulders ripple. "Given everything I've just told you... given this..." she gestured again to her breasts, "...is it actually necessary? My pectoral muscles alone are stronger than steel cables. The tissue density is... well, you heard Desiree. They don't exactly 'sag'."

She looked directly at him, her gaze unwavering. "So, Lieutenant Dahl, as my aide tasked with attending to my needs... I require your assessment. From your perspective, observing me now... do these breasts need the support of a bra? Or is it purely cosmetic? An unnecessary human convention for a body like mine? Tell me what you think. Your honest evaluation."

Ken felt his throat tighten again. This was another test, wrapped in a seemingly practical question. She was asking for his judgment on the most intimate aspect of her already overwhelmingly perfect physique, demanding he assess her based on human standards she had just declared herself far beyond. He took a slow breath, trying to steady his nerves and gather his thoughts. He met her challenging gaze with one he hoped conveyed professionalism mixed with the undeniable awe he felt.

"Katie," he began, his voice steadier than he expected, "that's... a complex question, given your unique physiology. Visually," he allowed his eyes to briefly sweep over her chest, taking in the perfect, high curves barely contained by the torn blouse, "they appear... self-supporting. Magnificent, certainly. But 'need' implies function beyond aesthetics."

He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "You've described tissue density and muscular strength far beyond human norms. A simple visual check isn't sufficient to truly assess factors like weight distribution during movement, or whether external support, even if not strictly needed for anti-gravity purposes, might offer benefits in terms of stability or even just conforming to certain clothing styles without... incident," he added, subtly referencing the torn blouse.

He took a step closer, stopping just short of invading her personal space, maintaining eye contact. "To give you an honest, thorough evaluation as you requested, Katie... I believe a hands-on examination would be necessary. To properly gauge the density, the weight, the underlying muscle structure, and how they respond to pressure and potential movement. Only then could I offer an informed opinion on whether a bra serves any practical purpose for you, beyond simple convention."

He held his breath, waiting for her reaction. He had answered her challenge, met her demand for assessment, but pushed the boundary further, placing the decision for the next step squarely back on her.
Katie tilted her head, a slow, appraising smile touching her lips. The initial challenge in her eyes softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of amusement and perhaps... intrigue. She studied him for a long moment, her super-senses likely analyzing his heart rate, his micro-expressions, the sincerity in his voice.

"A 'hands-on examination'," she repeated softly, tasting the words. "Very professional, Lieutenant. Very thorough." She chuckled lightly, the sound surprisingly warm. "You argue your case well. Pointing out the limitations of visual data, the need for tactile assessment... You almost sound like one of the agency scientists."

Her smile widened slightly. "Alright, Lieutenant Dahl. Your logic is sound. If you are to properly fulfill your duties and provide an accurate assessment, then a 'hands-on examination' is indeed required."

She reached up, her fingers deftly undoing the remaining buttons on the ruined silk blouse. With a fluid movement, she shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it fall silently to the floor behind her. She stood before him now wearing only the tight white jeans, her magnificent upper body completely bare. The sight was staggering – perfect, dense muscle layered over an exquisitely feminine form, her large, high breasts utterly defying gravity, the nipples still hard and prominent like sculpted jewels.

"Well?" she prompted, her voice dropping to a husky murmur, the playful challenge returning to her eyes. She placed her hands on her hips again, striking a pose that was both confident and inviting. "The subject is ready for your evaluation, Lieutenant. Proceed with your examination."

Ken swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm Katie could undoubtedly hear. Focus, Dahl. Professional assessment. Duty. He forced himself to take another slow, deliberate breath, trying to project the professionalism he desperately clung to. "Understood, Katie," he managed, his voice a bit strained.

He raised his hands slowly, palms facing her. He hesitated for just a fraction of a second before making contact, his mind racing. This is part of the mission. An evaluation. Remain objective.

His fingertips first brushed the smooth, warm skin just below her breasts. It felt impossibly perfect, like polished marble warmed by an inner fire, yet yielding ever so slightly before revealing the unyielding firmness beneath. He slid his hands upward, cupping the heavy weight of her breasts. The sheer density was astonishing – far heavier than they looked, packed with the superhuman muscle and tissue she'd described. They felt incredibly solid, yet undeniably female. My God, they're incredible. Solid steel wrapped in silk.

He tried to adopt a clinical approach, gently pressing with his thumbs, attempting to gauge the tissue's response. There was almost no give, just solid, resilient flesh over rock-hard pectoral muscle. He shifted his grip, carefully lifting each breast slightly, testing its weight and natural support. As she'd said, there was no sag, no indication that gravity had any meaningful effect on their perfect shape and position. They felt anchored, integral parts of her powerful torso. Like holding sculpted perfection.

His fingers inevitably brushed against her hardened nipples. They were like small, smooth stones, incredibly rigid, radiating a palpable energy. He quickly moved his thumbs away, trying to focus on the overall structure. He noted the complete lack of any imperfection, the flawless curve, the sheer power contained within the soft contours.

Throughout the examination, Katie remained perfectly still, her eyes watching his face intently, that faint, challenging smile playing on her lips. She didn't flinch or react to his touch, simply observed him as he conducted his assessment. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a mixture of clinical evaluation, raw power, and undeniable intimacy. She knows exactly what this is doing to me. She can probably hear my blood pressure rising.
Ken continued his assessment for another moment, gently palpating the sides and undersides, confirming the incredible density and the seamless transition into the powerful muscles of her chest and ribs. It was unlike anything he could have imagined.

Just as he was about to withdraw his hands and attempt to formulate a professional conclusion, Katie spoke again, her voice a low, teasing drawl. "Enjoying the... data collection, Lieutenant?"

Ken froze, his hands still gently cupping her. He looked up, meeting her amused gaze.

"Tell me honestly, Ken," she continued, her smile widening, clearly seeing through his facade of professionalism. "Have you ever seen breasts like these before? Or even imagined them?" She leaned forward slightly, subtly increasing the pressure against his palms. "So massive... but so firm, wouldn't you agree? Yet..."

Before he could respond, she reached out with impossible speed, taking his right hand from her breast and guiding it to her left arm. She flexed her bicep. It bulged instantly, a rock-hard curve of superhuman muscle beneath flawless skin. "Feel that," she commanded softly. The muscle was like granite, completely unyielding. Then, just as quickly, she guided his hand back to her breast. "Now feel this again." The contrast was startling. While incredibly firm and dense, her breast had a subtle, yielding softness on the surface that the granite-hard bicep lacked entirely. It was a paradox of immense power and delicate femininity.

"So firm, yet so soft," she murmured, echoing his thoughts, her eyes sparkling with amusement and power. "Quite the combination, isn't it?"

She stepped back slightly, giving him space, and brought both arms up into a stunning double biceps pose. The muscles in her arms swelled into magnificent peaks, cords of steel rippling under her perfect skin. The powerful flex simultaneously tightened the muscles across her chest, somehow thrusting her already huge breasts further forward, making them seem even larger, higher, more impossibly perfect.

"Desiree called me a 'superhuman muscle-goddess'," Katie said, holding the pose, her voice filled with confident satisfaction as she admired her reflection briefly in a nearby window. "Looking at this... feeling this..." she glanced back at Ken, a challenging fire in her eyes, "...I have to say, I agree. I am indeed a mighty muscle goddess."

Ken could only stare, his professional assessment completely forgotten, overwhelmed by the sheer spectacle of power and beauty before him. Goddess is right, he thought, his mind reeling. Absolutely right.

"There's one more thing I want to show you."

Katie disappeared for a second and came back with an Air Force flight helmet. It had Capt. Riker stenciled on it.

"Forgetting all the rights and wrongs of sex slaves, all the emotion and everything. I want you to consider this."

She put the helmet between her legs as he watched. Held between her thighs, the helmet began to creak; then a microsecond later she crushed it into a shapeless mess of broken plastic and wires.
Dahl nearly fainted on the settee.

"So you see, the body of a mortal man between my legs -- well, if I lost control it wouldn't be pretty. So, the final question, do you really want to do this?"

Ken slid to the floor and began to crawl across it to her. She looked down at him as he crawled to her with an expression that only a woman with her superhuman strength and power could know.

He reached her three-inch platforms and began to run his lips and tongue over her toes. He began to beg. "Supergirl, oh mighty goddess, please take me as your slave."

Over and over he repeated himself as his face and lips rose up her legs, kissing her thighs, running his tongue over the center seam of her white jeans. Rising further, he kissed the flawless skin of her abdomen, moving upwards until he arrived at the base of her breasts. Then he buried his face between her perfect, powerful breasts, moaning, "Supergirl, mighty Supergirl, please, please."

Picking him up by his shirt, Supergirl looked down at him with an expression that might have been boredom, or perhaps contemplation.

"Alright, if you insist, follow me." Supergirl then dropped Dahl to the floor with thump.


Part 2

Dahl looked up at Katie as she walked from the room and up the stairs.
"Hurry up, Lieutenant. Do I need to carry you?"

"No, Supergirl. I'm coming." Dahl jumped to his feet and began to run after her up the long staircase. He lost sight of her as he came to the top of the stairs and looked to see a large carved oak door at the end of the long hall. The door was open and an amber light fell from it into the hall. Pausing at the large double doors of conservatory, Dahl looked in and faintly saw a huge oil painting of Supergirl over the fireplace. At the other end of the room was a small marble sculpture of her nude. Every chiseled muscle of her incredibly feminine superbody was portrayed in minute detail. The pose was reminiscent of Michelangelo's "David", portraying as it did, the most perfect female form in human history. He raised his fingers up and stroked the naked marble breasts, his heart pounding as Dahl stroked them.

"Lieutenant Dahl, you may fondle my artwork some other time. I have need of you right now," boomed the voice of Supergirl from down the hall.

Scrambling, Dahl regained his composure. He rushed down the hall, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing Supergirl's bedroom. He peaked into the room, and was overwhelmed by its grandeur. Walking in, he saw the Princess of Power standing in front of huge mirror, dressed in a long terry cloth robe.

"You've changed," he said.

"So I have," she said, turning to face him. Katie smiled a wicked sort of a smile and walked across the room toward him.

Ken stood frozen just inside the doorway, his breath caught in his chest. The bedroom was vast, opulent, a blend of classical elegance and modern technology he couldn't quite process. But his attention was solely on Katie as she approached. The thick terry cloth robe did little to hide the sheer power radiating from her, the confident sway of her hips, the predatory glint in her steel-gray eyes. That "wicked smile" sent shivers down his spine – a mix of terror and intense anticipation. What now? What does she want? Whatever it is... yes.

She stopped directly in front of him, close enough that he could feel the warmth emanating from her body, smell a faint, clean scent like ozone and something floral. The top of his head barely reached her shoulder. He had to tilt his head back significantly to meet her gaze. The height difference, combined with everything else, reinforced his utter helplessness.

"Well, Lieutenant," she murmured, her voice low and resonant, sending vibrations through his chest. "You begged quite convincingly downstairs. You seemed very eager to... serve." She reached out, a single finger tracing the line of his jaw, her touch surprisingly gentle yet firm enough to make him acutely aware of the immense strength held in check. "Are you ready to fulfill your duties?"

Ken swallowed, his mouth dry. "Yes, Katie," he managed, his voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Supergirl. I... I am ready. Tell me what you require." Anything. Absolutely anything.

Her smile widened, showing a hint of perfect white teeth. "Good. Obedience is paramount, Lieutenant. Remember that." She let her finger trail down his neck, pausing over the frantic pulse beating there. "First," she said, her voice dropping even lower, becoming almost hypnotic, "you will remove your uniform. Slowly. Fold everything neatly. My aide must be presentable, even when... otherwise occupied."

Ken's hands trembled slightly as he reached for the buttons on his dress blue jacket. His fingers felt clumsy, numb. He fumbled with the first button, his eyes locked on hers. She watched him, her expression a mixture of amusement and detached command. Don't mess this up. Neatness. Obedience. He forced himself to concentrate, undoing the buttons one by one, sliding the jacket off his shoulders. He folded it carefully, meticulously, following the precise creases he'd learned at the Academy, acutely aware of her scrutinizing gaze. He laid it over the back of a nearby velvet armchair.

Next came the shirt, then the trousers, each movement deliberate, his skin prickling under her unwavering stare. He felt completely exposed, vulnerable, stripped bare not just physically but emotionally before this goddess. He folded each item with painstaking care, adding them to the pile on the chair until he stood before her only in his standard issue briefs.

"Better," Katie purred, her eyes sweeping over his body with the same intensity she'd used earlier, though this time there was no uniform to penetrate. He felt a flush creep up his neck. "Now... approach the bed, Lieutenant. Kneel beside it. And wait for further instructions."

Ken obeyed instantly, his bare feet silent on the plush carpet. He walked towards the enormous, ornately carved bed that dominated the far side of the room. The sheets were a deep crimson silk, shimmering in the soft amber light. He knelt on the thick rug beside the bed, his back straight, hands resting lightly on his thighs, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him as instructed, though every nerve ending screamed with awareness of her presence behind him. He could hear the soft rustle of her robe as she moved, the almost imperceptible sound of her breathing. The wait was agonizing, a potent blend of fear and desperate longing. He was completely at her mercy, ready for whatever came next.

The silence stretched, broken only by the sound of his own rapid heartbeat, which he was sure echoed in the room for her enhanced hearing. He kept his gaze lowered, focusing on the intricate pattern woven into the rug beneath his knees. What is she doing? What does she want me to do? Just wait. Obey.

Then, he heard the soft shush of the terry cloth robe sliding off her shoulders and pooling silently on the floor. His breath hitched, but he didn't dare look up. He could feel the shift in the air, the subtle change in the energy field around her now that she was completely unclothed. The faint floral scent intensified slightly.

A pair of perfect, bare feet stepped into his lowered field of vision, stopping directly in front of his knees. He could see the flawless skin, the elegant arch, the strong, sculpted lines of her ankles.
"Look up, Lieutenant," Katie commanded, her voice soft but carrying absolute authority.

Ken slowly raised his head. His eyes traveled up the incredible length of her powerful legs, sculpted with muscle yet undeniably feminine; over the flat, diamond-hard plane of her abdomen defined by sharp lines of muscle; past the impossibly high, full globes of her breasts, their peaks still taut and prominent; to her face. Her expression was unreadable now – the wicked smile replaced by a look of calm, almost regal assessment. She stood before him in all her naked, superhuman glory, a living statue of impossible perfection and power.

"You wished to serve, Lieutenant Dahl," she stated, her voice devoid of inflection. "Your service begins now. You will worship my body. Start with my feet. Show your devotion."

Ken didn't hesitate. Lowering his gaze again, he leaned forward, his lips trembling slightly as they approached the perfect arch of her left foot. This was it. The point of no return. He was her slave, her worshipper, utterly devoted to the goddess who stood before him. His first act of true service was about to begin.

He pressed his lips gently against the impossibly smooth skin of her instep. It was cool to the touch, yet felt vibrant with contained energy beneath. He breathed in her unique scent, a mixture of ozone and something delicate he couldn't place. Tentatively, reverently, he let his tongue trace the elegant curve of her arch. The skin tasted clean, pure. He moved slowly, meticulously, kissing the top of her foot, the strong ankle bone, the smooth skin leading towards her powerful calf muscle. Perfection. Absolute perfection.

He dedicated himself entirely to the task, his earlier fear momentarily eclipsed by an overwhelming sense of awe and devotion. He kissed each toe, paying homage to the sheer power contained within this perfect form. He used his lips, his tongue, his breath, exploring the texture, the shape, the very essence of the foot belonging to the most powerful being on the planet.

Katie remained utterly still above him, impassive as a statue. Ken couldn't read her reaction, couldn't tell if she felt pleasure, amusement, or utter indifference. Her silence was unnerving, amplifying his own vulnerability. He could only focus on his task, pouring all his concentration and burgeoning devotion into the act of worship, praying it was acceptable, praying it was enough. He finished with her left foot and, without looking up for permission, shifted slightly to begin his ministrations on her right, mirroring his actions with the same painstaking reverence. He was lost in the act, lost in the worship of his goddess.

Just as he finished worshipping her right foot, her voice came again, calm and commanding. "Acceptable. Now, move higher, Lieutenant. My calves."

Ken obeyed, shifting his position slightly, his gaze lifting to the sculpted curves of her lower legs. As his lips brushed against the skin of her right calf, he felt the muscle beneath tense and harden like tempered steel.
"My gastrocnemius," Katie stated, her voice taking on a slightly clinical, yet proud tone. "Perfectly formed, wouldn't you agree? Not a trace of cellulite, not a single wasted fiber. Feel the density, Lieutenant." Ken pressed his cheek against the muscle, feeling its incredible hardness and warmth. "These muscles," she continued, "allow me to leap miles in a single bound. They absorb the impact of landing from orbit without a tremor. They could crush rock." She flexed slightly, the muscle bunching powerfully under his cheek. "Appreciate their perfection."

He did, tracing the sharp definition with his tongue, kissing the powerful curve. He moved to her left calf, and again, the muscle flexed under his touch as she spoke. "Flawless symmetry. Each muscle group perfectly balanced. These legs could outrun a fighter jet on the ground, Lieutenant. Remember that when you touch them." He continued his worship, overwhelmed by the sheer power he was allowed to be so close to.
"Higher," she commanded when he paused. "My thighs."

He moved his attention upwards, his hands tentatively reaching out to brace himself against her knees as he shifted. His lips found the smooth skin just above her knee. As he began to kiss his way up her inner thigh, the massive quadriceps muscle tensed beneath his touch.

"The quadriceps femoris," Katie announced, her voice laced with undeniable pride. "Four heads, each developed to its absolute peak potential. Feel the separation, the definition." Ken ran his tongue along the deep grooves separating the distinct muscle bellies, awestruck. "These muscles can leg-press tanks, Lieutenant. They generate the force needed to break the sound barrier in atmosphere. They are engines of immense power, wrapped in flawless, invulnerable skin." She contracted the muscle again, a powerful ripple running up her leg. "The hamstrings, equally perfect. Feel their strength." She slightly bent her knee, allowing him access to the back of her thigh, the muscles there bunching into powerful cords. He worshipped them with equal reverence.

"And the adductors," she continued, her voice softening slightly, taking on a huskier edge as his lips moved higher on her inner thigh. "Crucial for control, for stability... and for crushing." The memory of the flight helmet flashed in Ken's mind, sending a jolt of fear and excitement through him. He pressed his face against the firm muscle, breathing deeply. "Every part of me is perfection, Lieutenant. Every muscle honed, every fiber brimming with power you can barely comprehend."

Her tone shifted again, becoming commanding once more. "Enough. Move to my center. Worship the core of my power."

Ken hesitated for only a heartbeat, then shifted again, his face now level with her navel. He reached out a trembling hand, lightly touching the diamond-hard plane of her abdomen. It was like touching living armor. As his fingers traced the sharp lines defining her rectus abdominis, the muscles contracted sharply beneath his touch.

"My core," Katie stated, her voice resonating with power. "The nexus of my strength, the engine that drives my flight, the shield that protects my vital organs. Feel the rectus abdominis, Lieutenant. Each segment is perfectly sculpted, harder than any steel." Ken pressed his lips to the flat, hard muscle just below her sternum, tasting the faint saltiness of her perfect skin. He slowly worked his way down, kissing each defined segment. "These muscles," she continued, "allow me to change direction at hypersonic speeds. They can withstand the impact of anti-tank rounds without bruising. They form an impenetrable wall."

She shifted her weight slightly. "Now, the obliques." The muscles along her sides rippled and tightened as she spoke. "External and internal, woven together like unbreakable cables. They provide rotational power, allowing me to tear battleships in half with a twist. They stabilize me against forces that would disintegrate a normal human." Ken moved his attention to her sides, kissing the hard, V-shaped lines that tapered down towards her hips. The sheer density and power under his lips was intoxicating.

"My entire torso is a fortress of perfected muscle, Lieutenant," she declared, placing her hands on her hips, her posture radiating absolute dominance. "Impervious, tireless, flawless. This is the source of power that makes me Supergirl. Understand the magnitude of what you are touching. Appreciate the perfection you serve."
Ken felt utterly humbled, overwhelmed by the lecture accompanying his worship. He wasn't just touching a woman; he was interacting with a force of nature, a being of unimaginable power contained in a form of breathtaking beauty. He pressed his forehead against her lower abdomen, breathing in her scent, completely surrendering to her magnitude. "You are perfect, Supergirl," he whispered against her skin. "A true goddess."

"Indeed," Katie replied, her voice a low rumble of satisfaction. "Now rise, Lieutenant. Your journey continues upward. It is time to appreciate the... upper structures."

Ken pushed himself up slightly, his gaze lifting past her navel, past the hard ridges of her abdomen, to the base of her magnificent breasts. They rose before him like twin peaks of sculpted marble, full, high, and utterly defiant of gravity. The skin looked impossibly smooth, luminous in the soft light, and the diamond-hard points of her nipples seemed to command his attention.

As he reached out a tentative hand, preparing to touch the lower curve of her left breast, the muscles beneath her skin tightened visibly. "My pectoralis major," she announced, the muscles flexing subtly, creating an even more impressive swell. "The foundation upon which these rest. Strong enough to punch through bank vault doors, Lieutenant. They contribute significantly to my flight dynamics and the sheer force of my blows."
Ken pressed his lips to the warm, smooth skin just beneath her breast, inhaling sharply at the contact. He traced the perfect curve with his tongue, marveling at the combination of immense power and feminine softness he'd noted earlier.

"Feel the density," she commanded, her voice slightly deeper now. "The unique tissue structure, enhanced beyond human comprehension. Invulnerable, yet sensitive." As his lips moved higher, brushing against the underside, she let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. "They require no support, as you determined. They are support. They are shields. They are perfection."

He moved to her right breast, his lips and tongue mapping its shape with reverent awe. He kissed the hard peak of her nipple, feeling the incredible rigidity against his mouth. It was like kissing polished gemstone.

"Yes," she murmured, a definite note of pleasure entering her voice now. "Worship them properly, Lieutenant. Appreciate their form, their function, their absolute superiority." She flexed her pectorals again, causing her breasts to lift and tighten almost imperceptibly, a subtle display of the immense power they contained. "This is the chest that deflects bullets like raindrops, that withstands explosions unharmed. This is the body of a goddess. Your goddess."
Ken was lost, drowning in sensation and submission, his mind barely able to process the reality of worshipping the perfect, invulnerable breasts of Supergirl herself. He buried his face between them again, as he had downstairs, but this time against bare, warm skin, murmuring praises, completely devoted to his task.

After a long moment, during which Ken felt he might dissolve into pure adoration, Katie's voice cut through his haze, sharp and commanding once more. "Enough. Your appreciation is noted. Continue upwards. My shoulders and arms await your attention."

Ken reluctantly lifted his head, his lips slick, his eyes glazed with devotion. He shifted his kneeling position, turning slightly to face her left side. He reached out, his hands trembling as they settled on the powerful curve of her deltoid muscle. It was flawlessly round, hard as cannonball beneath his touch.

"My deltoids," Katie stated, rolling her shoulder slightly, causing the muscle to ripple magnificently. "Three heads, perfectly balanced. They provide the stability for lifting mountains, Lieutenant, or for delivering blows that can shatter continents. Feel the power." She flexed, and the muscle bulged, straining against his palms. Ken leaned forward, pressing kisses against the hard curve, tasting the faint saltiness of her skin.
"Move down," she instructed. "My arms. The instruments of my will."

He slid his hands down, his lips following, over her bicep. He remembered the feel of it from earlier, the granite hardness. "Biceps brachii," she intoned. "Capable of curling weights that would crush mortal men. Pure, condensed power." He kissed the peak of the muscle, then moved his attention to the equally impressive triceps on the back of her arm, feeling the horseshoe shape contract as she extended her arm slightly. "Triceps. Providing the force to punch through any barrier, physical or otherwise."

His journey continued down her forearm, his lips tracing the thick, corded muscles there. "The brachioradialis, the extensors, the flexors," she listed them clinically, flexing her wrist slightly, causing the muscles to dance under his mouth. "Every tendon stronger than bridge cable, every muscle fiber optimized for speed and strength. These hands," she clenched her left hand into a fist, the knuckles white and hard, "could crush diamonds into dust, or," her voice softened almost imperceptibly, "touch with surprising gentleness... when I chose."

Ken kissed her knuckles, then her wrist, overwhelmed by the sheer destructive and creative potential held within that single limb. He repeated the process on her right arm, listening to her descriptions, feeling the muscles flex and harden beneath his worshipful touch, each kiss an act of submission to her absolute physical supremacy.

"Now," Katie commanded, her voice regaining its regal tone, "the neck and face. The seat of command."

Ken carefully shifted again, positioning himself directly in front of her once more. He looked up, his gaze traveling up the smooth column of her throat. He hesitated, awed by the vulnerability and yet the undeniable strength of this area.

"My neck," she said, tilting her head back slightly, exposing the long, elegant line. "Protected by muscles stronger than steel, housing vocal cords that can shatter glass or soothe a troubled mind. Invulnerable, like the rest of me."
He reached out, gently cupping the back of her neck with one hand, feeling the powerful muscles there. With infinite tenderness, he pressed his lips to the base of her throat, feeling the steady, slow thrum of her superhuman pulse beneath his mouth. He kissed his way slowly upwards, along the side of her neck, just below her jawline. She remained impassive, yet he sensed a subtle shift, a heightened awareness in her stillness.
"My jaw," she stated, clenching it slightly. "Strong enough to bite through metal." He kissed the sharp angle, then moved higher. "My cheekbones, high and defined, framing eyes that can see through worlds." He kissed the smooth skin of her cheek, inhaling her scent.

"And finally," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper now, "my lips."

Ken looked up, meeting her intense, steel-gray gaze. Her lips were full, perfectly shaped, held in a neutral line. He leaned forward, his own lips trembling as they neared hers. This felt different, more intimate, more charged than anything before. It wasn't just worship of power; it was the threshold of something else entirely. He paused, a fraction of an inch away, awaiting the final confirmation, the ultimate permission.
Katie's eyes held his for a long moment, the steel-gray depths unreadable. Then, slowly, deliberately, she closed the infinitesimal distance, her lips pressing against his. The contact sent an electric jolt through Ken's entire body. Her lips were soft, yet firm, radiating the same impossible combination of power and femininity as the rest of her. The kiss deepened, Katie taking complete control, her strength evident even in this intimate act. Ken felt himself melting, surrendering utterly to her dominance, his mind reeling from the sheer sensory overload.

Just as he felt he might lose consciousness from the intensity, she pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss, though her face remained close to his. Her breathing was perhaps a fraction faster, her eyes holding a new, predatory gleam.
"You have performed your worship adequately, Lieutenant," she stated, her voice regaining some of its command, though laced with a new huskiness. "Now, it is time for the next phase of your duties."
Before Ken could fully process her words, she reached down with impossible speed and strength, her hand closing around his erection through the thin fabric of his briefs. He gasped, startled by the sudden contact and the sheer power in her grip. It wasn't painful, but it was undeniably firm, a grip that could surely crush steel, yet held him with controlled pressure.

She squeezed gently, her thumb tracing the length of him. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise, then amusement, crossing her features. "Well, well, Lieutenant," she murmured, her voice dropping to a low, intimate purr. She squeezed again, testing his rigidity. "It seems you possess a certain... resilience yourself."

She looked from his erection back to his face, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her lips. "Remarkable hardness. Almost... impressive." She chuckled, a low, throaty sound that vibrated against his skin. "Perhaps not quite invulnerable like me," she squeezed again, emphasizing her point with effortless strength, "but certainly... determined."

Ken felt his face flush crimson. Her casual assessment, her demonstration of power even now, was both terrifying and incredibly exciting. He could only stare up at her, completely under her control.

"Let's see how long this... determination lasts, shall we?" Katie whispered, her eyes locking with his. She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear. "On the bed, Lieutenant. Now."

Ken scrambled backwards from his kneeling position, his mind still reeling from her touch and words. He practically crawled onto the massive bed, the cool silk sheets a shocking contrast against his heated skin. He lay there, breathless, heart pounding, looking up at the ornate canopy above, every nerve ending alight. He felt utterly exposed on the vast expanse of crimson silk.

He heard the soft pad of her bare feet on the carpet as she walked around the bed. He didn't dare turn his head. Then, the mattress dipped beside him as she sat down, facing him. He forced himself to look at her. She was lounging casually, propped up on one elbow, the picture of relaxed power. Her steel-gray eyes scanned him from head to toe, a faint, predatory smile playing on her lips.

"Comfortable, Lieutenant?" she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

"Yes... Supergirl," he stammered.

"Good." She reached out, trailing a single finger lightly down his chest, over his ribs, pausing just above the waistband of his briefs. The light touch sent shivers down his spine, raising goosebumps despite the warmth radiating from her. "Because your comfort is... secondary."

Her smile widened. "You've worshipped my perfection, Lieutenant. You've acknowledged my power. You've felt a fraction of my strength." Her finger dipped just under the elastic waistband, her touch electric against his skin. "Now... you get to experience it."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to an intimate whisper that resonated deep within him. "Remember the helmet, Ken? Remember what these thighs can do?" Her eyes flickered down his body and back to his face. "Imagine that power... focused. Controlled. Wrapped around you." She let the implication hang in the air, her gaze intense, watching his reaction, seeing the mixture of terror and desperate desire warring in his eyes.
"This body," she continued, her finger tracing patterns on his hip, "is capable of sensations you can't even dream of. Pleasure beyond mortal limits... and pain, too, if I wished it." She paused, letting him absorb the threat. "But tonight... tonight is about my needs. And you, Lieutenant, are here to fulfill them. To endure whatever I require. To withstand the force of a goddess."

She shifted, moving closer still, her perfect, naked body radiating heat and power. "Are you ready to feel what it's like, Ken? To truly feel Supergirl?"

Ken's throat was dry, his heart hammering so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. He could only nod, incapable of speech. Surrender was absolute. Fear warred with a desperate, consuming need that eclipsed everything else – duty, caution, self-preservation. He wanted this, wanted her, regardless of the danger.

"Yes," he finally choked out, his voice raspy. "Yes, Supergirl. I'm ready. Please."

A look of predatory satisfaction flashed in her eyes. "Good answer, Lieutenant."

With effortless grace and power, she moved over him. He felt the immense weight and density of her body as she settled atop him, straddling his hips. The smooth, invulnerable skin of her inner thighs pressed against his sides, a tangible reminder of the force that had crushed the helmet. Her perfect breasts, heavy and firm, pressed against his chest. He could feel the hardness of her abdominal muscles against his own softer flesh. It was like being pinned beneath a beautiful, living statue carved from diamond and steel.

She leaned down, her face inches from his, her steel-gray eyes boring into his soul. "Now, Ken," she whispered, her breath warm against his lips, carrying that faint ozone scent. "Now you belong to me. Completely."
She lowered her hips slowly, deliberately, letting him feel the gradual pressure, the controlled application of her superhuman strength. Ken gasped, his senses overwhelmed. It was an impossible combination – the feeling of being utterly dominated, potentially crushed, yet simultaneously experiencing an intimacy so profound it stole his breath away.

"Relax, Lieutenant," she murmured, sensing his tension. "Or don't. It makes no difference to me." She smiled that wicked smile again. "Just remember... try not to break."

Katie held his gaze, the predatory glint softening slightly, replaced by something akin to focused intensity. Her hands, capable of crushing steel, moved with surprising gentleness, sliding down his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his ribs, exploring the texture of his skin with feather-light touches that nonetheless sent jolts of electricity through him.

"So fragile," she whispered, almost to herself, her fingers brushing over his hip bones. "Yet... resilient." Her touch was a study in contrasts – the cool smoothness of her flawless skin against his, the latent power humming beneath the surface, held perfectly in check by her deliberate control.

She lowered her head, her lips brushing against his collarbone. Unlike the demanding kiss earlier, this was softer, exploratory. Her tongue flicked out, tasting his skin, sending shivers cascading down his spine. He felt the incredible strength in her neck and shoulders as she held herself perfectly poised above him, yet the contact itself was surprisingly tender.

"My senses..." she murmured against his skin, her voice vibrating through him, "can detect every nuance. Your heartbeat accelerating... the heat rising in your skin... the subtle tension in your muscles." Her lips moved lower, tracing a path down his sternum. "I feel everything, Ken. Every reaction."

Her hands moved to his sides, her thumbs drawing slow circles on his abdomen, just above the waistband of his briefs. The touch was light, almost teasing, yet the pressure of her body pinning him, the solid weight of her thighs against his hips, was a constant reminder of her overwhelming power. He felt the hard planes of her abdominal muscles shift against him as she adjusted her position slightly.

"These muscles you worshipped," she whispered, her breath warm on his stomach, "they allow for incredible control. Precision." She shifted her hips again, a slow, deliberate grind that sent fire through his veins. The movement was fluid, powerful, yet contained. There was no violence, only an overwhelming sense of absolute physical dominance expressed through controlled intimacy.

She reached down again, her fingers gently removing the final barrier of his briefs, tossing them aside with casual disregard. Her touch on his bare skin was electric. Her fingers, capable of bending steel bars, explored him with a startling mix of clinical curiosity and rising heat. She traced the veins, tested his length, her touch both gentle and possessively firm.

"So responsive," she observed, her voice husky. "Eager to serve your goddess." She leaned down again, her magnificent breasts brushing against his chest, the hardened nipples sending sparks across his skin. Her lips found his again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more demanding, yet still controlled. He felt the power in her arms as she braced herself above him, the subtle flex of her biceps, the unyielding strength that held her effortlessly poised.
She pulled back, her eyes blazing with a mixture of power and something else – perhaps need, perhaps simple desire magnified to a superhuman degree. "Now, Lieutenant," she commanded softly, her voice thick with promise. "Now you will truly understand what it means to be possessed by Supergirl."

With a final, deliberate movement, she guided him into her warmth, her body accepting him with a strength that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Ken gasped, overwhelmed by the sensation, the feeling of being enveloped by sheer power, yet held with impossible gentleness. It was the ultimate paradox, the ultimate surrender.

Ken's mind threatened to short-circuit. The feeling of being inside her was indescribable – an impossible blend of yielding warmth and unshakeable, dense power. It felt like being anchored to the very core of the earth, yet simultaneously floating in an electric haze. He gasped again, his hands instinctively reaching up, wanting to touch her, hold her, but he stopped himself, remembering his place. He was hers to command.
"It's... incredible," he breathed out, the words barely audible, his voice choked with emotion and sensation. "Supergirl... Katie... I..." He couldn't articulate the torrent of feelings – the awe, the fear, the overwhelming pleasure, the profound sense of connection to this impossible being. "I feel... completely overwhelmed."

Katie shifted slightly above him, the movement sending waves of pleasure through him, coupled with the terrifying awareness of the crushing power held in reserve by her adductor muscles against his sides. She looked down at him, her expression softening fractionally, a flicker of genuine feminine curiosity in her eyes, mingling with the predatory satisfaction.

"Tell me," she whispered, her voice losing some of its commanding edge, becoming softer, more intimate, drawing him in. "Tell me what you feel, Ken. Describe it for me. Your goddess wants to know." Her voice was a low, hypnotic hum, vibrating not just in the air but seemingly within his very bones. It bypassed his rational thought, pulling at something deeper, demanding honesty, demanding surrender not just of body, but of mind.
"It's... everything," he stammered, trying to find words. "It's power... your power... surrounding me. Holding me." He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on hers. "It's terrifying... knowing you could... anything could happen. But..." He trailed off, searching for the right word.

"But?" she prompted gently, her voice like silk, encouraging him, pulling the confession from him.

"But it's also... safe," he admitted, the paradox hanging in the air. "Being held by you... possessed, like you said... it feels like nothing could possibly harm me while I'm here, with you." He felt a flush creep up his neck at the admission. "It's the most intense... connection... I've ever felt. Like being part of something... immense. Perfect."

A slow smile touched Katie's lips, this one less predatory, more genuinely pleased. The sound of his surrender, the description of her effect on him, seemed to resonate with her. "Yes," she murmured, leaning down to brush her lips against his forehead, a surprisingly tender gesture. "Immense. Perfect." Her voice was a soft melody now, weaving a spell around him. "Stay with me, Ken. Feel it all. Feel me. Let go completely. There's nothing but this. Nothing but us."

Her voice wrapped around him, as powerful and encompassing as her physical presence. He felt his last vestiges of resistance, of independent thought, dissolve under the soft command. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the sensations, to her power, to the hypnotic pull of her voice, letting himself be completely consumed by the experience of being with Supergirl.

With Ken utterly pliant beneath her, Katie began to move, but not in any way he could have anticipated. It wasn't the simple rhythm of human lovemaking. It was something... more. She shifted her weight with infinitesimal precision, the powerful muscles of her hips and core engaging in ways that sent targeted waves of pressure and pleasure through him. It felt as though she could isolate and stimulate individual nerves, playing his body like an instrument only she understood.

Her internal muscles, the ones she controlled with the same superhuman precision as her biceps or thighs, began a subtle, rhythmic dance around him. It wasn't crushing, but impossibly firm, a pulsing grip that tightened and released in complex patterns, sending jolts of pure sensation directly to his core. He gasped, arching slightly off the bed, his hands clenching the silk sheets. What is she doing? How is this possible?
"My control is absolute, Ken," she whispered, her voice a low vibration against his chest. She could feel the frantic pounding of his heart, the sharp intake of his breath, the tremors running through his limbs. "I can feel every nerve ending you possess. I can chose exactly which ones to ignite."

Her fingers, which had rested gently on his chest, now began to move with uncanny speed and precision. They danced across his skin, sometimes feather-light, sometimes pressing firmly on specific points – the base of his neck, the inside of his wrists, the sensitive skin behind his knees. Each touch was perfectly timed with the internal rhythms she created, amplifying the sensations, weaving a complex tapestry of pleasure that bordered on overload. It wasn't just physical; it was neurological, a direct manipulation of his senses by a being who understood the human body on a level no human could.

"Feel that?" she murmured as her fingers brushed a spot on his ribs, causing an involuntary jolt of intense pleasure to shoot through him. "Just a little nerve cluster. Easily overlooked by most." She moved her hips again, that impossibly strong yet controlled internal grip tightening in perfect sync with another caress of her fingers on his inner thigh. Ken groaned, unable to form words, lost in the escalating sensations.

She wasn't moving fast, not in a conventional sense. The pace was deliberate, measured, each movement, internal and external, calculated for maximum effect. She used her incredible strength not for force, but for unparalleled control and endurance, drawing out the moments, layering sensation upon sensation until Ken felt his mind fraying at the edges. He was completely hers, an instrument for her pleasure, her exploration, her power. The distinction between fear and ecstasy blurred, becoming one overwhelming wave threatening to pull him under.

Just as Ken felt he was reaching a point of no return, Katie shifted again. She eased the intensity of her internal movements slightly, though the firm, warm pressure remained. With one hand still resting lightly on his chest, monitoring his racing heart, she reached down with the other and gently took his right hand.
"You have worshipped me with your lips, Lieutenant," she murmured, her voice a low, resonant hum. "Now... you will learn to worship yourself, under my guidance."
Her grip on his hand was firm but gentle, her superhuman strength manifesting as absolute control. She guided his hand downwards, towards his own straining erection. Ken tensed instinctively, the idea feeling strange, almost alien, but her soft command, "Relax, Ken. Trust your goddess," instantly soothed his resistance.

"My senses tell me exactly what you need," she whispered, her eyes locked on his. "Where the pleasure concentrates. Where the nerves sing." Her hand completely enveloped his, her fingers interlaced with his own, yet somehow directing the pressure and movement entirely. It was his hand, yet it wasn't. It moved with a knowledge and precision that wasn't his own.

She guided his own fingertips to trace the sensitive underside, applying a pressure that was exquisitely perfect, finding spots he hadn't known existed. "Here," she murmured, pressing his finger slightly harder, eliciting a sharp gasp from him. "And here..." Her guidance shifted his touch, creating swirling patterns, alternating light strokes with moments of firm, focused pressure.

"Feel that, Ken?" she asked softly. "That's your own body responding... but responding to my knowledge. My control." She used his thumb, guided by her encompassing grip, to apply pressure at the base, while his other fingers, directed by hers, continued their impossibly precise ministrations. The sensation was bizarrely intimate – his own touch, yet orchestrated by an external, all-knowing force. It bypassed his conscious mind, targeting his pleasure centers directly.

She varied the rhythm, sometimes slow and teasing, sometimes faster, more demanding, always perfectly attuned to the reactions she could undoubtedly sense rippling through him. Her internal muscles pulsed gently in counterpoint, creating layers of sensation that pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

"You see, Lieutenant," she purred, leaning down to kiss his sweat-beaded forehead, "even your own body obeys me now. Even your own hands serve my purpose... which is your pleasure." The possessiveness in her voice, combined with the overwhelming sensations, sent another wave of heat through him. He was hers, utterly and completely, his own body a tool for her to command, even in the act of pleasuring himself under her divine instruction. He could only moan, lost in the paradox of control and surrender.


Releasing his hand, Katie shifted her focus. Her own fingers, capable of such immense power yet demonstrating incredible dexterity, moved lower. Ken tensed again as her hand gently cupped his testicles. He remembered her crushing grip on his erection earlier, the casual display of strength, and fear momentarily spiked through the haze of pleasure.

"Easy, Lieutenant," she murmured, sensing his fear instantly. Her thumb brushed lightly over the delicate skin of his scrotum, a touch so soft it was barely there, yet it sent sparks along his nerves. "Did you think I would crush these? Like the helmet?" She chuckled softly, a low sound that vibrated through the bed. "Where would be the fun in that? No... these require a different kind of attention."

Her touch remained incredibly gentle, yet there was an underlying firmness that spoke of absolute control. She cradled him carefully, her superhuman senses mapping the internal structure, the network of nerves and vessels hidden beneath the skin. Her fingers began to move with impossible precision, applying minute pressures, tracing patterns, stimulating points he never knew were sensitive.

"So many nerve endings here," she whispered, her voice taking on that clinical yet sensual tone again. "Delicate. Responsive." Her thumb applied a gentle, rolling pressure at the base, while her fingertips seemed to dance over the surface, sometimes barely grazing, sometimes pressing with pinpoint accuracy. It wasn't painful in the slightest, but the intensity was staggering. Each touch ignited a cascade of sensation, sharp and bright, building relentlessly.
"I can feel the pathways," she continued, her eyes watching his face intently, gauging his reactions with superhuman acuity. "The signals firing along your nerves... the pleasure building..." She squeezed ever so slightly, a pressure that would be imperceptible from a normal woman, but from her, it felt like a deep, resonant thrum that echoed through his entire lower body. He groaned, arching his back, completely overwhelmed.

"See?" she purred. "No need for crushing force. Just... precision." She continued her ministrations, her fingers moving with a speed and accuracy that was mesmerizing, stimulating every millimeter of sensitive tissue, igniting nerve endings he didn't know he possessed. The pleasure was becoming unbearable, a white-hot wave cresting higher and higher, driven by her impossible touch and the sheer, terrifying intimacy of her complete control over his most vulnerable parts. He was utterly lost, adrift on an ocean of sensation only she could create.

Ken felt like he was dissolving, his consciousness fraying under the relentless, expertly applied sensations. Every nerve ending screamed, pushed to the absolute brink by Katie's impossible touch and control. He was adrift, lost in the overwhelming reality of being possessed by this goddess, his body responding uncontrollably to her ministrations. The pleasure was agonizing, unbearable, yet he craved more, completely enslaved by the feelings she orchestrated.

Katie watched him, her steel-gray eyes missing nothing – the tremors running through his limbs, the beads of sweat on his brow, the shallow, ragged gasps he took. She saw the absolute surrender in his eyes, the complete erosion of his will under her precise assault. A faint smile touched her lips, the smile of an artist admiring her work.

"Almost there, Lieutenant," she murmured, her voice dropping into that low, hypnotic register that seemed to bypass his ears and resonate directly in his mind. "Almost at the peak. But not yet. Not until I command it."
Instead of continuing her direct, precise finger manipulations on his most vulnerable parts, Katie shifted slightly. She kept one hand resting lightly on his chest, monitoring his frantic heartbeat, while the other moved lower. Ken tensed instinctively, bracing for another wave of direct stimulation. But her hand stopped just above his scrotum, hovering millimeters from his skin.

"A different technique now, Ken," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with intent. "Something... warmer."

He watched, mesmerized, as her hovering hand began to move. It started slowly, then accelerated to an impossible speed, blurring before his eyes until it was little more than a vibration in the air. He could see the powerful muscles in her forearm and bicep tense and bulge with the effort, cords of steel rippling beneath her flawless skin, holding her hand perfectly steady in space despite the furious motion.

A low hum filled the air, the sound of molecules being agitated at incredible speed. And then he felt it – not her touch, but an intense, encompassing warmth spreading through his lower body, focusing directly on his scrotum. It was like being enveloped in a pocket of superheated air, a throbbing, vibrational heat that bypassed his skin and seemed to soak directly into his nerves.

He gasped, eyes wide, staring at the blur of her hand, feeling the insistent, penetrating warmth. It wasn't painful, but it was intensely stimulating, adding a completely new dimension to the pleasure that was already threatening to overwhelm him. The vibrations generated by her hand's movement resonated through the air, creating a deep thrumming sensation that compounded the heat.

"My speed creates friction, Ken," she explained, her voice calm despite the visible effort controlling her blurring hand. "Friction creates heat. I can warm the air around my hand, focus it. You feel the heat, the vibrations... but not my skin."

The combination was devastating. The precise internal pressure from her controlled muscles, the hypnotic suggestion of her voice, and now this enveloping, vibrating heat focused on his most sensitive nerves – it was too much. He felt the climax surging, an uncontrollable tide.

"Almost time," Katie breathed, her hovering hand maintaining its impossible speed, the focused heat intensifying. "Listen to my voice, Ken. Focus only on my voice, the heat, and the feelings I give you. Nothing else exists."
He clamped down, trying desperately to obey, to hold back, but the vibrating warmth was relentless, pushing him over the edge.

"I feel it building in you," she whispered, her lips close to his ear. "The pressure rising... the need becoming unbearable. But you will hold. You will endure. You will wait for my count."

She held him there, suspended in that state of agonizing pleasure, the blur of her hand and the pocket of intense, vibrating heat adding fuel to the fire. He could only watch her face, see the absolute control etched there, feel the power radiating from her.

"Prepare yourself, Ken," she commanded. "On my command. Not before."

The hum of her speeding hand seemed to fill the room, the heat becoming almost unbearable. He was balanced on the knife-edge.

Then, her voice cut through the haze, sharp and clear, beginning the final countdown.

"Ten..." Her voice was smooth, commanding. "Think about this body above you, Lieutenant. Perfection given form."

"Nine..." Her internal muscles pulsed, a deep reminder of the power containing him. "Feel the strength in my core, the diamond-hard abs you worshipped."

"Eight..." The vibrating heat intensified slightly, searing deeper. "Imagine these thighs wrapped around you, Ken. The ones that crushed the helmet." She subtly flexed the massive muscles of her upper legs, the movement radiating contained power against his sides. "Feel that potential? That absolute, crushing force?"

"Seven..." Her hovering hand blurred faster, the hum rising slightly. "Remember my arms? The ones you kissed?"

"Six..." She deliberately flexed the bicep of the arm controlling the heat. Ken saw the muscle swell into a magnificent peak, a perfect sphere of granite beneath flawless skin. "This bicep, Ken. Strong enough to rip tanks apart. Feel the power even in the air around it?"

"Five..." Her voice dropped lower, becoming a husky purr. "Every muscle you see, every curve... honed to impossible perfection. Stronger than steel, faster than light."

"Four..." The heat pulsed again, synchronizing with her internal clench. "You are possessed by the pinnacle of physical creation, Lieutenant. A living goddess."

"Three..." She leaned down, her lips brushing his, a final, possessive kiss that tasted of ozone and power. "My power controls your pleasure."

"Two..." Every point of contact, every sensation – the heat, the internal grip, the weight of her body – intensified dramatically. The blur of her hand reached its peak speed. He was utterly taut, seconds from shattering.

"One..." She paused, letting the unbearable tension peak, holding him suspended by a thread.

Then, she leaned close, her lips barely moving, her voice a mere ghost of a sound, almost too quiet to hear. But Ken felt it more than heard it – a focused wave of energy, a vibration carried on her breath that struck him like a physical force, bypassing thought and hitting his nerves directly.

"CUM."

The whispered command, imbued with her subtle superhuman control, shattered his remaining restraint instantly. As the first convulsive wave of climax ripped through him, Ken screamed, not a sound of pain, but a ragged, high-pitched cry of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, his voice cracking under the strain. Words tumbled out between spasming gasps, a desperate, incoherent litany of praise torn from the depths of his overwhelmed mind.

"SUPERGIRL! Oh GOD! PERFECT! SO PERFECT! MIGHTY... MUSCLE GODDESS! YES! STRONGEST! MOST BEAUTIFUL! AAAAAHHH! GODDESS! YOUR POWER! YOUR MUSCLES! PERFECTION!"

His body arched violently off the bed, completely consumed by the release and the overwhelming need to articulate the impossible reality of the being who controlled him. Even as the climax peaked, Katie's body responded with deliberate, controlled power. Her internal muscles clamped down with a deep, rhythmic intensity, seizing him at his core, pulsing in perfect time with his own release, amplifying each spasm. Simultaneously, the immense power of her adductor muscles tensed powerfully against his hips and sides, a sustained, unyielding pressure milking him relentlessly, driving the climax deeper, harder, ensuring every last drop was surrendered to her control while his ecstatic screams echoed her perfection. It felt as if her very muscles were commanding his body, squeezing the pleasure and the life out of him until he was utterly empty, utterly spent, his final cries dissolving into breathless moans against the crimson sheets.

Katie held the pressure, her internal muscles and powerful thighs maintaining their relentless grip until the final, shuddering spasms subsided and his cries faded into exhausted silence. Her hand, hovering inches away, slowed and resolved back into perfect stillness, the generated heat dissipating instantly. She watched his utter depletion, her expression shifting from focused control to a detached, almost clinical observation, his screamed praises perhaps registering as mere data points confirming the success of her methods. She felt the totality of his surrender within her, a testament to her absolute mastery.

As Ken lay gasping, utterly spent, slick with sweat and trembling uncontrollably against the crimson sheets, his throat raw from screaming, Katie slowly released the intense pressure of her thighs and internal muscles. She withdrew from him with effortless grace, rising from the bed. She stood beside it, looking down at the man she had so completely dominated and drained using power, precision, heat, and command.

"Acceptable, Lieutenant," she stated, her voice cool and even once more, betraying none of the intensity of the previous moments. "Your service in this matter is concluded. For now."

She turned and walked towards the ensuite bathroom, leaving Ken alone on the vast bed, adrift in the aftermath of an experience that had irrevocably redefined the boundaries of pleasure, power, and surrender.

[Bobinho19]

⚡ Support Saradas

Keep the archive alive with Bitcoin

1QDxcxUx8pnsZvauyVxTqaJrWkeNhQrPdK

Donate →

[musqular6]

Love the story.