Chapter 4 Team Rocket vs DC Heroines : Supergirl and Miss Martian in session.

By Valley Vixin

Kara Zor-el, known to the world as Supergirl, the maid of might, some would say the most powerful woman on earth. It was true she bench pressed more and flew faster than Wonder Woman, but hand to hand she tended to lose a lot. Wonder Woman was just brutal; ruthless and somehow feeding off the pain instead of being bothered by it like a rational Kryptonian, human, or I suppose Amazon. It wasn’t like she had never been defeated before. She was a superheroine, and she was proud of that. Even when Lex Luthor’s trap caught her, she had the choice between stopping Lex and letting all those people die beneath the falling Daily Planet statue, or saving the people and being the one to die. She was a superheroine, and she made the heroic choice. She made her peace, and she accepted death as the cost.

Then, Jessie of Team Rocket arrived. She defeated Lex, in probably the most brutal and humiliating way possible, so no problems there. No the problem was the Jessie didn’t let Supergirl die. She saved her.

Supergirl was used to people not treating her as human. She wasn’t. She was Kryptonian. Lex treated her as a demon, as a threat, as an abomination to be purged. Creepy, but understandable. Her race had been conquerors back it its prime. Jessie though. She saw her as a Pokemon, like those beasts she summoned from the little red and white balls. She wanted to capture her, to tame her, sexually.

Kara felt her hands slipping down into her panties again as she remembered lying there waiting to die, then looking up into those burning blue eyes, as Jessie claimed her. Told her she was not allowed to die. That Jessie would own her. Would train her. RAO, oh sweet and holy Rao, Kara prayed as she felt her hand going to her breast as she worked her fingers in and out of her pussy. She wanted to break her sexually like she had Black Canary, to make her a slave, to fight at her command, to be punished and rewarded as her little poke-whore. A slave to her trainer.

Kara cried out as she came, and reached out to look at the email in her Justice League account. Miss Martian, the telepathic women’s counsellor wanted a session, to help her deal with her trauma. The Martian Manhunter was stuck dealing with Batman and Robin’s therapy after their run in with Jessie, and their own resulting sexual escapades together. Kara didn’t want to talk about what happened, but she couldn’t deny that Jessie got inside her, and even more than the near death experience, it was Jessie’s eyes, Jessies touch, Jessie’s voice she could not get out of her head. Fine, she would book a session.

Miss Martian sat across from Kara and meditated as much as she could while being able to respond. She had watched the video of course. It was disturbing. It was arousing too, but that was unprofessional and she would put it away. Meditate, control. This was the Martian way. They were telepaths and shape shifters, they could not afford internal lies when their exterior was always in flux. The truth was the only thing that kept a Martian alive. The truth was the only thing that could be built on safely in your personality, no matter how comforting the lie, it would fail. No matter how unfortunate the truth, it was better. She would help Supergirl find that truth. Ah, she approaches. Miss Martian opened her eyes to see Supergirl shuffle in, hesitantly. This wasn’t good. She looked broken. Time to get to work.

“Kara, come sit. I know what you have been through. I think it is important we have a session to help you process it before you internalize the wrong things.” Miss Martian said calmly, she said everything calmly.

Supergirl looked at Miss Martian, so calm, so composed. She hadn’t been stripped naked and forced to orgasm until she sweat diamonds and came so hard she shattered half a mile of office glass and slagged down the Daily Planets five ton bronze sculpture with her heat vision, all in front of thousand of cheering civilians and two dozen network cameras and who knows how many civilian live streamers.

“What wrong things? That the woman I came to fight, the woman that wants to capture and enslave me saved my life by turning me into a porn star? That she brought me back from death, had every opportunity to let me go and she literally called it catch and release because taking me like that would be poaching? I was ready to die, I accepted death and she saved me. She looked into my eyes and commanded me to live and when I didn’t have the strength she made me, so tell me doctor, what wrong things am I internalizing. Supergirl raged.

Miss Martian hid her smirk. She knew how sexually repressed Kara Zor El was. She was worse than her cousin Kal El, because Superman had his little Lois to keep his watch wound. Kara was a bundle of repressed sexual urges and self sabotaging inferiority complexes just waiting to become relationship issues. Worse, she was an open book to the telepath.

Miss Martian leaned back and smiled softly. “Kara, this is a safe space, a non judgemental space. Why don’t you talk me through it, and together we can work our a better way of understanding what happened, and how you should go forward.”

Supergirl saw the suppressed smirk, and closed her lips. Taking a deep calming breath through her nose, she began to recite one of Rao’s calming meditation when her super senses picked up a scent. Arousal. Sharp female sexual pheromones. Not hers. Kara’s eyes flew wide as she looked at the sanctimonious little monk who hid away from the field and its dangers so she could look down her nose at the fighters of the league and their trauma. That little whore watched me get humiliated by Black Canary and Jessie of Team Rocket and got her little green panties damp, and now she is going to tell me not to let it affect me? Alright Miss Martian, lets relive what I went through. All of it. In detail.

Instead of using her meditation techniques to shut the emotion and the physical sensations away, Kara Zor El used them to remember everything. The feeling of helplessness, the inevitability of death. The slowing of her heart, the failing breathing, the poison shutting one after another systems down, the weakness, the numbness, the cold. The soul destroying helplessness and fear.

She watch Miss Martian drop her tablet from trembling hands, and turn pale. Then Supergirl remembered Jessie grabbing her by the neck, kissing her, commanding her to live. She remembered Jessie stripping her naked, and with Black Canary’s help, how she went down on Supergirl. Contrary to world opinion, Supergirl was not a virgin. Relationships just never worked out. She never really was able to let go enough to let anyone in. Jessie did not care. Supergirl lay dying and helpless and Jessie decided she would live, and proceeded to teach her body how to come alive.

She had thought there were two ways to make love to a superheroine. The “please don’t crush me you alien monster” timid, and the “she’s invulnerable so just pound the shit out of her” brutal. She had experienced both and enjoyed neither. Jessie had been different. Supergirl let her mind dwell on the sensation of Jessie opening her flower with delicate breath and tongue, fingers tracing along her mound and outer labia as her tongue played within. She took the time to tease her open, to dance like a butterfly over her tenderest flesh, to let each nerve come alive one by one to give her the report of each new and subtle sensation.

Then she had began to warm, and as she warmed, more blood flowed, and more nerves ignited. Jessie did not force her, she played her like a musical instrument. Starting soft and slow, but building, rising and falling, rising and falling, each cycle taking her up to use the energy she had, then down to let her recover before swinging up again higher. Kara’s blood was poison, but her nerves were Kryptonian and her muscles turned the power of the yellow sun into the purest energy in the galaxy. Jessie played those nerves, riding the tides of pleasure to the edge of pain, and then beyond into pleasure Kara would never ever allow herself to know. Pleasure that shattered control, shattered limits, shattered souls, and her body caught fire. She BURNED, and the Kryptonite burned with it. Kara felt herself growing wet in the memory. She pulled her tunic off and caressed her breasts as she looked at the panting Miss Martian, hands clenched to her chair arms to prevent her touching herself. Trapped in the memory of Supergirl salvation, she was too sheltered to protect herself from the raw experience Kara was still trying to process. The sad thing was, this was the small orgasm. Greater than any she had ever dreamed of, but just the start of what Jessie would do to her.

“You want to tell me how to process this? How to internalize this? She found me dying. No science, no magic, nothing but directly dropping me into a Yellow sun could possibly have saved me, but Jessie, with a purely human tongue mastered my body so totally that it was almost enough to burn the Kryptonite out of me. She burned half of it, but then I lacked the strength. I, Supergirl lacked the strength, but do you know what she did Miss Martian?”

Kara sprang on Miss Martian who turned to jump away. This was the wrong move, as Kara simply bent her over, pinned face down on the floor as she remembered what happened next. Plunging her tongue into Miss Martians virgin asshole, she proceeded to rim Miss Martian with the power of her invincible tongue, as she lashed her with the memory of Jessie rolling Supergirl over her own face, and commanding Black Canary to eat her ass.

Supergirl remembered every stroke of both tongues. Her strength was coming back, she could have resisted, but then she would have died. She had no will to resist. No will to do anything but writhe helplessly while Jessie sucked on her clit, and Black Canary drove her songstress tongue deep into Kara’s asshole. She rimmed Miss Martian as she remembered being rimmed by Black Canary, and she drove the memory of her own violation deep into the hungry mind of Miss Martian whose own sexual needs pulled on every scrap of sensory memory from Supergirl’s mind like a drowning woman gulps at the last scrap of air. Miss Martian screamed and came violently, but Supergirl was not done, there was so much more, so much more that Jessie had done to her. She had not let Supergirl stop coming until all the Kryptonite was burned out.

Miss Martian was mewing like a broken animal when Kara stopped. This was what it felt like to win. This was what Jessie felt. She looked down at Miss Martian, and sneered.

Miss Martian crawled to the Kryptonians red booted feet and began to kiss them. Kara took the boot, and pressed it down into Miss Martian’s neck, pressing her to the ground.

She remembered Black Canary holding up an red and white butt plug styled after those Poke-balls Jessie summoned her monster out of, and asking if they should use them to capture Supergirl.

Looking down at the mind broken Martian under her boot, she remembered being that mind broken. She would have accepted that anal plug and the slave collar that went with it. She would have accepted having her powers locked away and only useable at Jessie’s command in that moment. She, Supergirl, had been tamed. There was no way she could face herself, let alone the world, until she had done the same to Jessie.

Looking down at Miss Martian she smiled. “Thank you Miss Martian, I know how to process it now.”

Flying out of her apartment, she flew to the plaza in front of CatCo global media, since the Daily Planet plaza was still cordoned off wreckage. Hovering in mid air until she saw Cat Grant screaming for camera crews to come out and catch what she had to say.

Hovering in mid air, she turned to the camera.

“This message is for Jessie of Team Rocket. You challenged me to a fair fight, and we never had it. You talked a lot about capturing me, well, people have tried that before, and it never ended well for them. Meet me here at noon tomorrow, and we will have that battle. If anyone else interferes, we can both teach them to regret it. Tomorrow one of us will fly out of here, and one of us will crawl.” Supergirl let the fire of her will cause her eyes to blaze enough for the cameras to catch, but not enough to damage anything. If people wanted to think she had her will broken by that last fight, she would prove them wrong.

Then maybe she could believe it herself. For her soul, for her sanity, she had to face this Jessie and win.