Barbara Gordon had never had a threesome before but if they were all like this, she never wanted them to end. Her whole body was covered in sweat and other fluids and she shuddered as Lois let go of her new tits with a deliciously cruel little twist of her big, pink nips as a final flourish.
"Mmm, Smallville, that was . . . wow!" the leggy brunette purred, lying back against her handsome husband, her smoky voice even huskier and slow with post-coital satisfaction.
Superman's face showed a deep, abiding sexual satisfaction of his own but his blue eyes also flashed with love as he moved one of his big hands to caress his wife's stomach tenderly.
"Mmm-hmm. And now you're pregnant. We're finally going to be able to start a family." he murmured reverently while nuzzling her neck. "And you'll have Maxima's powers from here on out so you'll be safe, always."
"And he'll finally get to fuck her as hard as he wants, whenever he wants. No more women of tissue for him!" snickered an invisible to everyone but Barbara Inara as she wandered between the pair and the quivering, busty Maxima shaped mess that was a bound Barbara Gordon. The redhead found herself too exhausted to even reply.
"Not that you'll be around to watch that now that you've used up your little Pink Kryptonite ruse, Buttslut." the ifrit said with a mocking lilt to her voice as she patted the redhead's sweat-soaked face with her hand. "What a shame, huh? I could tell you REALLY enjoyed that after all. Time for you to turn back into Batslut and leave these lovebirds alone, I suppose-"
Barbara Gordon's mind had always been a source of pride, able to think up calculations, gather evidence and come up with plans on the fly. Of course, with her desires and mind warped by the thoughts of others thanks to Inara's meddling, her intellectual acumen was used instead for what she now thought was her dream come true. She knew what she wanted now and she could get it in just one sentence. After a quick, deep gasp for air, the words came tumbling out of her mouth in a matter of seconds, eager and breathy.
"I wish that I could always be your sexy French Maid, with Superman fucking my ass and tits and Lois dominating me sexually every day, serving you both and getting off on obeying your every command!" she let out in a breathless rush.
To the married couple, it was simply a wanton, hungry compliment, but to Inara, it was simply one thing and one thing only.
Victory.
The ifrit took a step back, bowed low and her smile was genuine as she spoke the words ritualistically but with an unmistakable air of deep satisfaction.
"Your second wish is granted, Barbara Gordon."
The scene around them warped and changed to a modest Metropolis apartment where Barbara Gordon stared at herself in a bathroom mirror. She didn't recognize her own reflection at first - it was another redheaded woman's face but with whorish amounts of black and purple make-up covering it - but then the startled then delighted expression made her realize what had happened. Her body was still a slightly more sexualized version of Maxima's - fuller lips, a smaller waist, a rounder, fuller ass and much larger tits - all improving on royal perfection, if one's idea of improvement skewed towards Jessica Rabbit.
She was delighted to find she was also dressed in absolutely perfect - which was to say completely pornographic - French Maid fetish gear. A useless little white lace hat nestled itself in a nest of elaborate hairdo that nevertheless also left long locks tumbling down over her shoulders. A black bow of lace entwined with spaghetti straps over her bare, pale shoulders laid against her generous cleavage, easily untied to let her big tits stop straining against the flimsy, see-through white lace beneath. Thick pink plug like nipples whispered against the straining silk as she rose a hand to her face, a feather duster with a distinctly phallic handle in the other. Her arms were naturally bare save for a bit of frilly black lace near the top of the spaghetti straps and she stepped back to admire the rest of her outfit.
The lace straps tightly wrapped around her small waist like a corset while the frilly white apron on the front was attached to a tight black silk skirt. The skirt was, naturally, indecently short, albeit slightly poofy (whether that was from her fuller ass or layers of whisper-thin fabric, she couldn't say). Barbara felt garters run down her powerful, toned thighs before she saw the black fabric that held up a pair of fishnet stockings. The ivory color of her pale thighs really set the fishnets off, making her long legs look absolutely succulent. The ensemble ended in a pair of wildly impractical black heels that hugged her toned calves and clacked against the bathroom floor. No underwear, of course, so naturally, her pussy was both completely uncovered and gushing wet as she stared at herself in the mirror.
"Mon Dieu, regarde-moi." she moaned softly."J'ai l'air parfait!" then blinked in surprise as she heard herself speak, her voice a squeaky and breathy little bimbo's instead of her usual lower register. "Attends, pourquoi est-ce que je parle comme ça?"
Suddenly, Inara's voice came out from behind the bathtub curtains the shower came on and steam started to rise.
"Why are you talking like that? Well, come on, Buttlsut, a French Maid doesn't speak English as a first language!" the ifrit chuckled. "Unless you mean the 'dumb bimbo' voice thing, which was just me putting a cherry on top of the Submissive Slut Sundae you've become. Fuck, Barbie, I think you might just be my masterpiece!"
"Eenaruh! Zat was not part of zee, eh-"
She stopped, suddenly struggling hard to think of the word in English, which was absurd since she'd grown up in Chicago.
"Zee deal!" she finally spat out after a moment, feeling only a mild annoyance where she knew a burning anger should be, turning to pull open the shower curtain. "Zis is- eh? Why ees eet I cannot talk normal?"
"Everybody knows French Maids are French, my dear, dumb little Buttslut! So say goodbye to speaking English fluently and hello to an outrageous accent whenever you try - and fail!" Inara chuckled as she luxuriated under the water. "And besides which, nobody's keeping you around to hear you talk anymore after all."
Inara's look changed to one of haughty triumph as she continued.
"Now shut the fuck up, get in this shower and eat me out, you dumb little French Maid fucktoy. Do what I say or suffer!"
Barbara was about to register her complaint but instead found herself eagerly and immediately getting in the tub and kneeling in front of Inara, burying her face between the ifrit's toned, dark thighs instead, her tongue hungrily licking Inara's folds. The threat was real but more than that, being commanded like that by another woman? It was humiliating.
Which all meant it was also incredibly fucking hot, she thought with a furious but beyond aroused moan into the ifrit's pussy. She loved being dominated by women, she remembered with a shudder!
"Mmm, yeah, just like that, you dumb little firecrotched whore! Fuck, you don't know how much I've dreamt of seeing you like this! Barely able to string two words together in English and a walking wet dream!" growled Inara, grabbing Barbara by the hair and grinding her pussy into the kneeling woman's mouth. " You know, I've wanted this ever since that first shower we took together and I knew I was going to get it. It was only a matter of time. Smart, virtuous little Barbara Gordon, thought you were so much better than me! I'm thousands of years old and you honestly thought you could win? Pathetic. I'd ask how it feels to be so thoroughly outsmarted and humiliated but mmm, we both know the answer to that, don't we . . . Buttslut?"
Barbara didn't respond verbally - she just ate her Mistress's pussy out with even more of a frenzy. Distantly, a part of her knew that she'd warped the wish slightly or done something, considering how she'd specifically just mentioned Lois and Clark being her owners, but she no longer cared. She was now a total sub for any hot woman and loved it. She couldn't mount up even a token resistance to another woman's sexual commands, any woman at all. It was why she had to stay in the apartment and be her owner's good little French Maid slut or wear headphones and be given very specific orders whenever she was allowed to leave to do errands.
So now, the only other thing she did as the ifrit's pussy juices slid down her chin and the hot water soaked the rest of her wasn't resist or try and think up a clever new wish to reverse things. No. The only thing Barbara Gordon did was slide a hand in-between her legs and masturbate furiously. God, she couldn't wait for Lois to get home and punish her for getting her maid uniform sopping wet or Clark to tear it off of her and fuck her ass or her tits! Maybe both while Lois fisted her slutty pussy and the invisible Inara barked out commands - oh fuck, she was already so close to cumming just thinking about it!
She moaned her approval into the ifrit's clit and Inara cried out in pleasure enough for both of them, although nobody could hear her. Her nails dug wickedly into the redhead's scalp as she screamed.
"Yesssss, you're all mine, Barbara Gordon! All fucking MINE!" Inara howled in pure, wicked pleasure, having truly and irrevocably broken Barbara Gordon.
Comments