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"Look boys", the chief gleefully observed, "It's almost like she's trying to fly! She doesn't seem to be getting very far off the ground though - what do you reckon we give her a little motivation?"
With a nod, two guards grinned evilly and approached her from each side. Supergirl didn't even want to begin to think what they had in mind - but gasped as without a word, they each grabbed a baton and stabbed it deep underneath each mighty udder. The stabs of pain they had given her before were horrendous; now in constant contact with the most vulnerable parts of her anatomy, they were simply indescribable. Predictably, her desperate squeal brought absolutely no helpful response; "Puh-please, you can't do this to me, they (gasp) hurt so much. Please, PLEASE - take them out..."
Given time, our harried heroine may eventually have been able to force herself off from the implements of constant agony. But time was a luxury she was not going to be given. "Oh that's right, of course", chuckled her chief tormentor, "When SuperTits here used to buzz around she did so with her hands if front of her - boys?". The same guards each grabbed an enfeebled wrist from their position desperately trying to scrabble underneath herself, and yanked them full length in front of her. An instant later the two became one as they were deftly and firmly handcuffed together. Such a short time ago she could have shattered them in a matter of milliseconds - now she had to accept she would struggle to seperate them if they were constructed from tissue paper. With immovable objects beneath them, her hands were now completely useless to her.
"Still not going anywhere honey?" He enquired with full condescension. "I'll give you a helping hand myself - let's get those legs in the air"
In her dazed state, she barely registered that he pulled out a 3-legged stool from somewhere, or even in particular that rather than simply hoisting her legs onto it to better replicate her classic flying pose as she may have assumed; instead he sat on himself, slid underneath her torso and draped jer legs over himself.
"You know, I think we've been altogether too nice to you Supergirl", came his voice from above. "All we've done is our jobs, processing you just as the courts commanded. It's not our fault that you were such a naughty girl that they sent you here. All you had to do to stay out of trouble was obey the rules, and be a good girl, but no, you said rude things, you tried to attack us, you even spat at me! And what really sticks in my craw, we've given you best boobs in the prison and you haven't even said 'thank you' yet!"
"Th-thank you!" She spluttered, outraged anew; "I should kill you!"
"You see, there you go again", he responded in mock dismay. "You're just not learning. I think it's time to remind you what happens to naughty little girls who can't do what they're told."
With a colossal smack, his hand came down with incredible force upon her nude derriere. Once, her invulnerablity would not have even registered such a blow; now it sent shockwaves careering to every nerve ending, and forced her ever harder onto the ground and the stun batons that were busy making the majority of her mammaries giant balls of throbbing agony. But his next blow followed soon after, and the next even sooner.
"You c-can't SPANK me", she howled in renewed humiliation, "I'm Supergirl!"
"Wrong again, girly", he hissed with another slap, somehow even harder. "We can - and you can't do a single thing to stop us! And that's the best part, I did say 'us' not 'me' - all the boys will take a turn when I'm done - and that won't be for good while yet"
And as his brawny right hand continued to turn her porcelain flesh ever deeper shades of crimson, salty tears began to form on her eyes - was there ho end to her humiliation?
And then his left hand reached underneath her and found her nether lips - and she realised with horror that there was a way to go yet.
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