"D-damn you", she grimaced at the impossible choice. What could she do, accept her role as a permanent sexual plaything for the duration of her indeterminate sentence, or play to the bone this one chance of escape she may get? And she didn't think she could even make it to him, let alone do anything to him before the inevitable happened. Maybe, maybe, she could yet turn it round this way
"Will you at least close your eyes?", she implored desperately.
He just smiled. "Not one chance in hell!"
She was out of time, she'd be touching cloth if she was wearing anything other than the frills around her waist and bib around her neck. She thought of turning her back, trying to spoil his view, but simply dare not turn her back on this weasel.
She barely made it. The strain of lowering herself towards the pan was as much as her exhausted legs could take, and she collapsed onto it rather than daintily lowered herself as she intended. Filth was pouring out of her even before impact, and her bladder gave her brain no choice as whether to join the party. She shuddered uncontrollably, her arms twitching alongside her rather than offering some coverage as she intended, it felt that her body was collecting in on itself, milk spurted faster out of her engorged teats, drool poured from a corner of her gagging mouth, and, before she could even begin to regain control, the cacophony of unwelcome sensations tore away even even her last vestiges of control and she collapsed in a shattering and humiliating climax. Perched on her throne of shame, she pathetically quivered in utter helplessness
And a myriad of hidden cameras continued to catch every moment.
She would never know how long it took her to come to a measure of herself. Had that really just happened? Could she really have humiliated herself so badly. She longed to spring to her feet, to act, to do something, but her body refused to obey her commands, and subconsciously her fingers toyed with her hyper-sensitised nipples. She was exhausted, and humiliated, and sore, and still so, so, horny...
"Wakey, wakey Superslut!" The warden's commanding voice shook her from her reverie. "What the hell do you think you're doing. I let Princess Fartyparts do the necessary before she shits herself - and she chooses to frig herself off. You've been telling me you're going to kick my ass for half the afternoon. One of us is driving home soon. If you want it to be you, move your stinking ass".
"I wa-was not", feebly trying to deny the obvious. "Superheroines don't do things like that."
She staggered blearily to her feet. He casually leaned on his desk and yawned. "Round 2 then TittyFiddler?"
Even Supergirl had learned by now that wading in unchecked with feet and fists was unlikely to get her very far. But at least the delay, however humiliating, had given her overtaxed body longer to recover from the influence of the collar. Her utterly addled mind somehow failed to grasp the fact that her accustomed strength did not seem to have returned to her. Somehow she confused the afterglow of her unexpected orgasm with the feeling of power and invulnerability once so familiar to her. Rather than testing them, she chose to bank on them.
Spreading her arms wide, she lurched forward to grab him in a bear hug, doubling her chances of catching him with either arm and crippling him with a devastating bear hug. He could have sidestepped her easily of course, but it was just too funny to play along for a moment, her right arm collecting his waist.
Finally, she had laid hand on him! At last! "You're going to pay now, slime," she gloated. "Prepare to have the breath crushed from your body". He did his best to look suitably scared. "I am SUPERgirl. And now you're going to see how super I really am"
With her titanic tits, she was completely unable to get a firm grip round his waist quite as she intended. But he had helpfully left his arms by her sides and she was still able to reach around, engulf them, and interlock her arms around the small of his back - the best she could do with her current deformity. She squeezed with everything she had, thinking his pelvis would be an adequate substitute for broken ribs. The beachballs between their chests meant it was nothing more than a gentle cuddle, and in reality if she let go now she would be certain to hit the deck, so far was she bent backwards in order to establish her uncertain grip.
"Ga-asp," he played along. "You're SO strong. Curse my foolishness! Your powers must have returned. Why did I ever take that collar off you? I am helpless in the arms of the strongest woman on earth."
Supergirl enjoyed the moment, relishing her impending freedom. "Hah! You thought I was defeated. Just because I was a little clumsy and some tummy trouble. Shame on you. Know this - I am Supergirl, I am Invulnerable, I am Invincible, I am Immortal, I..."
"...Am utterly fucked!" With only the tiniest flex of his muscles, her feeble grip gave way. But this time, instead of letting her fall, he grabbed her right wrist with his right hand, and twisted so that as she toppled, she span round, and her left wrist found itself in the iron grip of his left. As she fell forward, dragged down by the weight in her chest, he accelerated the process with his fight foot between her ass cheeks, and pulled and twisted.
She howled in dismay. "How!?"
"Aw, did you think you had your special powers back? Such a crying shame. No, you're still the same useless piece of garbage you've been since you walked in here. And want to know a little secret? You're staying this way!"
Now wobbling on the floor on top of her giant mounds, she desperately tugged at her arms, stretched tautly behind her. He couldn't be stronger than her, he just couldn't! But she got precisely nowhere, and tears of despair streamed down her cheeks.
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