He turned her a fraction so that she was better facing her audience, and draped her useless left arm around his neck to supposedly steady her. The overall impression was of a ventriloquist and the world's most pathetic dummy. She felt new depths of humiliation, wanting to shift her position, feeling his bulging hard-on through the fabric of her diaper, but no longer possessing the wherewithall to make it happen. She couldn't move her arms at all, and now her legs, which she doubted from bitter experience could support her anyway, felt completely numb, and while they dangled fetchingly in front of herself and her unwanted companion, they felt completely beyond her control.
But was he really going to remove the dummy in front of a room full of media outlets (although she was concerned that she heard of only some of them, and those for negative reasons)? Was she really going to get the chance to set the record straight?
For all the humiliation our ridiculed heroine had been forced to endure, she was sadly unaware of 2 things; for the last 20 minutes she had been sucking incessantly on a powerful truth drug; not only was she unable to lie, she was far more importantly unable to formulate any complicated arguments, she would be able to answer questions put to her, but not able to take the time to edit her own internal monologue. If her interrogator asked her the right questions, she would be unable to say the things that she was most desperate to say. And perhaps even more seriously, the horribly possessive hand currently resting on her naked back (out of the view of both herself and the cameras) still held a tiny remote that could activate the invasive nano technology throughout her helpless body at will.
"Well young 'lady'", he smiled at her condescendingly. "You heard me make the case for the prosecution a little while ago. Now it's your turn to try to make your case for the defence. I've spent enough time with you over the last few hours that I frankly doubt you have the intelligence to make a coherent argument for or against anything, so we'll try it gently at first. Let's try a few simple questions and see if you're a bright enough bulb to answer them. Please don't hesitate to tell these fine people about why you think I may have done you and your fellow 'Superheroines' a disservice".
He really was going to do it! He was going to take out her dummy and let her speak! She could yet turn around this nightmare! She must apply all her concentration to find the right words...
"So, Miss" he said, pulling out the dummy with a wink, why don't you tell us your name?"
Supergirl knew that as painfully compressed as her lungs were, she lacked the breath for any long diatribes. She had to find the right words and say them with courage and conviction; "I... am... Super... GURGLE". Once again Supergirl shocked herself with an unexpected and unwelcome reaction from her own body. Concentrating on trying so convey authority to every syllable, she had nothing to spare on trying to control the ravaged loins - and a loud and wet fart ripped through the room.
"Nuh-No", she gasped in shock, her fragile confidence shattered; "I (pant) am SOOGH" Once again her body betrayed her at the wrong moment as another spectular spurt from her engorged nipples fired into the crowd.
"Oh Dear, Miss", he shook his head disdainfully "You seem to need even more help than I thought. Are you really 'Supergirl'?"
"Yuh, Yes, and..." "One thing at a time young lady", authoritatively cutting her off before she could say any more. "Are you proud of yourself?"
"Nuh-No" Her answer surprised herself. While she feel utterly ashamed in her current situation, she planned on condemning him and his staff for their treatment of her; but she couldn't stop herself saying more about her shame rather than trying to apportion blame. "I... have to... wear a... diaper... because... I keep... soiling... myself". Why did she tell them that!?
"Not very 'heroic'!" he prompted her. "Are you filling your diaper again now?"
"Yuh-Yes" she whimpered, desperate to steer conversation in another topic, but lacking the brain functionality to do so. "I am (gasp) sitting (pant) in my own poop - and I need someone (wheeze) to wipe... my... bottom!" No! Why on earth did she say that!? Tears of shame poured down her face. Why couldn't she tell them what she needed tell them. And worst, why was she exhausting herself saying it?
"That is disgusting young lady", he pretended to recoil. "You will have to wait. Do those ridiculous breasts arouse you?"
"Yes" (No, why did she say that?) "So big (gasp), so (gasp) tender, they keep (pant) making me cum."
"I hope you are ashamed of yourself" he said sternly. "Would they be a better heroine if they were smaller?"
"Yuurgh" was our heroine's attempt at an answer, but unfortunately for her, her car tyres chose that moment to visibly swell further rapidly becoming close to monster-truck-size. The increase in sensitivity shattered her already barely-existent sense of decorum. She squealed pathetically "I'M COMING!"
"Thank you for the update, you shameless hussy," he said with complete contempt. "Will those 'things' help you fight crime?" "NO!" she screamed, once again in the throes of a humiliating orgasm, and completely unable to formulate any more than a one-word answer.
"But for you, your own gratification remains more important than appropriate behaviour. Are you going to shrink them to something more manageable?"
"No!" she yelped, internally trying to find the words to fully explain her predicament "Can't..."
He quickly cut her off - "Can't or Won't? You certainly seem very adept at inflating them! Your priorities are way beyond the reams of any reasonable society"
The mighty Supergirl tried once again to explain, to justify that her disfigurement was not down to her own twisted desires, but his perverted ministrations, but at exactly the wrong moment she was far too distracted as her clitoris exploded in fresh sensation as her very special ring decided to demonstrate a previously undiscovered ability of growing a firm nub and spinning rapidly in place. She screamed in simultaneous pleasure and fresh humiliation.
Once again he seized the initiative. "You're not ejaculating again! How often do you do that?" "(Whimper) All... the... time..." She tried again, desperately ignore her roaring desire. "Too.. horny". No, that didn't help. Where was her sense? "Need... Help.."
"You clearly do young lady!" He grinned at her desperate attempts to save herself, that continued to do far more harm than good. "And here you will receive it! I think both you and the public are safer in here. How would you get on if you tried to fight a SuperVillain?" he enquired gently.
"Would (gasp) lose. . Probably (ooh) rape and torture me..." She shocked herself at her candour, again trying to get to what she wanted to say, but it kept slipping through her fingers like sand through an hourglass. He interrupted her wheezings once again "Who could you beat?" He thought this was the moment to go for a more detailed question that he knew would add to her humiliation and keep her tied up from trying to say things he had no wish for her to say. "Give us a run down on your current fighting capabilities"
"Can't (pant) fight. I'm (wheeze) helpless." The once-proud heroine had no choice but to share the extent of her humiliating situation "Boobs (pant) too big to punch (gasp) anyone. Too heavy (wheeze) to even (pant) stand. Can't fly. Can't cont (heave) trol my bladder and (ooh) bowels. So (pant-pant) weak. Any (gasp) one (gasp) would (Ooh...) do what(pant)ev(pant)er they want (pant) to URGH". Tears pored down her cheeks as she utterly exhausted herself attempting to give a detailed answer to a question she didn't want to consider. Her inevitably inglorious crescendo plumbed new depths as she again catastrophically soiled herself. Her useless legs quivered uselessly as she tested the integrity of her very necessary diaper
"Phoo-Whee Supergirl" he sniggered one more time. "We really do need to keep you here and protect and retrain you - and any other 'Superheroines' that are in your situation. Clearly you are in no fit state to rejoin society. Oh dear Miss. I really do think that we need to call a halt to this embarrassment before you make even more of a mess. Is there anything else, apart from these monstrousities, (as he brazenly groped her left breast with his hand) that you need to get off your chest."
This was her last chance. Somehow she had to find a way to take it. Finally, a chance to say what she wanted to say. To condemn him for his abuse, expose his lies, demonstrate herself once again as a virtuous role model that the public could support and adore. Rebuilding her dignity after this debacle would be hard, she knew, but at least she could save her friends from the prospect of a very similar fate.
"I condemn this lying rapist..." was what she MEANT to say. But all that came out was a gurgle What was happening to her? Why would her voice fail her now, when she needed it more than any other time in her career. She tried again, but could only make a sound like a dying dolphin. She concentrated all her efforts on what she knew was very last chance - and groaned in utter despair as she felt her overburdened diaper fail and filth pour down her leg. He slid away from her relatively unscathed as she collapsed in her most devastating failure yet, captured in full view of the media; her whole body convulsing in constant shudders; collapsing under her udders which fountained milk across the room, the volume of filth pushing her diaper to her knees, helpfully baring her pussy at near eye-level for her most explosive climax yet.
"Yes World, behold 'Super'Girl. Behold the 'greatest' of all 'heroines'. You know what have to do"
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