The girls sobbed bitterly in shame at the desperate position that they found themselves in. How could they have found themselves in this situation? Would their humiliation ever end? The warden's next words only served to fill them with renewed terror.
"I'm going to ask those of you running he live feed to cut it that point." Waiting until he saw compliance, he assured the rooms disappointed faces; "Don't worry, we're not nearly done with these worthless sluts yet. In fact, I thought you might like to give me a hand..."
The warden had pushed his angle of righteous punishment as far as he dared. Dealing with an interruption by Powergirl had been bargained for, but he had no wish to deal with any further interruptions at this stage. He was pretty confident that there more formidable colleagues would respect the rule of law enough to give him time to complete his plans - but he had an idea of when not to push it too far. The heroine's punishment was going to continue, but no longer under any illusions of it being for any form of greater good. Filming was still continuing, but now it would only be released through more specialised (and lucrative) outlets.
"Right, I need 2 volunteers to take these Barbies in hand. Don't worry, I've cleaned them up a bit for you". Two particularly seedy individuals stepped forward, and Powergirl was quickly handed over. "Oh sorry, I almost forgot;" the warden chided himself at forgetting that Supergirl's arms were still dislocated, and popped them in between finger and thumb - in time she would regain a measure of movement, but not in time to serve her any useful purpose. Ignoring her latest squeal, she too was handed over.
It was a new measure of shame for our very-much-daunted-duo; handed over like dollies to be played with at will. Being completely overpowered and humiliated by the warden was one thing; their own bodies betraying them at their time of greatest need was another; even having their very shape deformed was something that in time they could begin to comprehend. But now they were just being passed around like dolls!
Their new handlers were not backward in coming forward. Supergirl found herself being vigorously motorboated, Powergirl found a little finger toying with her nether lips. There was not a thing they could do, and their pathetic protestations fell entirely on deaf ears. They kicked and punched their tiny limbs incessantly - but without the ability to make even the slightest impact.
At the warden's encouragement, everyone in the room got to play with a balloon-titted dolly. The warden apologised for not providing any drinks - but assured them that he thought they may find the Kryptonians 'refreshing' - and indeed most enjoyed the chance of suckling their milk from their over-ripe balloons of joy. Such was both of their states of lactation that the gentlest suck provided an ample mouthful. To be fair, their proportions now made their bodies useful as little more than convenient handholds for their mighty udders.
Despite producing vast quantities of fluid, the nanites did their work that they remained firm and in full supply.
When most of the room was beginning to flag, a couple of the younger camera monkeys amused themselves with a hand on each udder and taking each other on in trying to drown each other in a mock 'gun fight', trying to 'sharpshoot' with vicious squeezes aimed at each other's heads, but continuing until they were both pretty much drenched, the room was roaring with laughter, and the heroines remained incredulous that their orbs of pain and shame did not seem to be reducing one iota.
Eventually, the audience's attention began to waver, as they wondered what was going to come next...
Next Chapters
Or add your own