BUT MAYBE I'M CHANGING!

GERRY

As much as I would enjoy the instant gratification of turning the mighty Captain Carter into a doting and ditzy plaything, I decide that it would be better (and much more fun) to take my time with her. Having this entirely fabricated ‘alternate’ personality taking her over inch by inch would be much more fun to observe from the outside.

I click on BUT MAYBE I’M CHANGING! and begin formulating plans to execute with this new trait in mind. It could certainly help to hasten my corruption of the good Captain along. Or perhaps, I could use some of the influence I’m building up to hasten along the trait’s effects. Perhaps I could cause the change to happen a little quicker with a bit of… psychological nudging. Yes… that could work…

I smirked and put the phone away. It seemed I was going to enjoy my next little ‘session’ with Captain Carter quite a bit. For now though, I had another matter to attend to. The good Captain was hardly the only heroine I had my sights on after all. I double checked my plane ticket and called my driver. It was time for me to head back to National City.

KARA

I’m on my knees in front of them. My glasses are gone and my hair is tied back in a tight ponytail. I’m completely naked except for a collar around my neck that says ‘CUM SLUT.’ They look down at me with a combination of lust, hate, and eagerness. The air is cool against my rock hard nipples and my dripping wet snatch.

“Never thought I’d see the mighty Super Bitch looking like this!” One of them says. Bank Robber. I identify in my head.

“Yeah, but it’s a good fucking look for her, isn’t it?” The second one says. Gang Leader.

“You kidding? Look at that tight little body of hers. It isn’t just a good look for her. She was made for it.” The third says. Sex Trafficker.

“She’s a woman.” The fourth and final one snarls. Serial ****. For some reason, picking him out sent a shudder through my body.“Of course she was made for it. This is where all women belong, on their knees. And she’s wearing the only thing a woman should be allowed to wear without a man’s permission, a collar and a smile.”

This earns a murmur of approval from the other three. They all knew he was right. He was only speaking the truth. Which I guess is why I nodded in agreement, a pleasant smile on my face.

A smile and a collar. That was all sluts like me deserved to wear.

“I’m so sorry for getting you all arrested!” I say. My voice is so whiny and ditzy. I could hardly recognize myself. But it sounded so… right. “A dumb cunt like me should’ve known her place! I had no right standing up to such hunky criminals like you!”

“You’re goddamn right!” The sex trafficker snarls, before slapping me across the face.

Somehow, the blow actually hurt. It left my face tingling and a little numb. It also sent a jolt through me that left my already dripping wet pussy even wetter.

Yes, yes, yes… treat your slut the way she fucking deserves!

I almost don’t recognize the thoughts as my own. Deep down though, I know they’re mine. I know because I feel them with every fiber of my being. I believe them with every fiber of my being.

“I’m so, so sorry!” I whine. “Please let me make it up to you!”

“And how exactly are you gonna make it up to us, Super Slut?” The bank robber asks. Though, judging by the rather impressive tent he’s pitching in his pants, he seems to already have a pretty good idea.

“Please! Use my tight little body! Use it however you want!” I’m practically begging them. “Do whatever you want to me! It’s what I deserve for daring to stand up to strong, powerful men like you!”

They don’t need any further prodding after that. The clothes come off and the cocks come out quickly. I can’t help but stare at them. They were so perfect, each of them long, hard, stiff. Instruments of pleasure and power that a lowly bitch like me was only ever meant to worship. They were what separated me from them. They were what made them superior.

They surround me, and since I’m already on my knees, it doesn’t take them long to figure out the first thing they want to do to me. A cock gets crammed down my throat as the others quickly crowd around me, a forest of hard, throbbing meat. My hands shoot up and begin stroking them while my mouth bobs up and down, slurping and slobbering all over the invading appendage. It’s not long before I pull my mouth off of it however, there were so many other big, powerful cocks that needed the services of my slutty mouth.

As I sucked and stroked and spat and slobbered, I felt a smile coming across my face. And of course I was smiling, how could I not be? I was fulfilling my purpose. I was *finally* after years of absolute power, being put into my proper place as a woman. My proper place, on my knees, using my body to pleasure men as they deserved to be pleasured.

This was where I-

*BEEEEP!* *BEEEEP!* *BEEEEP!*

I lash out and smash the alarm clock with my fist. It shatters into a thousand pieces, several of which go flying with enough **** to embed themselves in the wall plaster of my bedroom. I stare at what I did for a moment before slumping back down into bed.

“Fuck.”

I sigh and try to regain my composure. That was kind of difficult when my crotch was aching with arousal though. I didn’t bother trying to masturbate to alleviate it though, if the past couple of days had taught me anything, it was that ‘self-love’ did not work. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how fast I rubbed my clit at superspeed or how hard I pumped my fingers into my pussy with superstrength, there was no relief for me. I just kinda… teetered on the edge of orgasm until I got tired and had to stop. Rao, a few days ago I was going at it so hard that I nearly broke the bed. That would’ve taken some explaining if someone had seen it. The only real solution that I had to my problem was to step into a cold shower and to think unsexy thoughts as long as I could until it went away.

Which was easier said than done. Ever since my trip into the brothel, my mind has been filled with images of abused women and dominant men. I kept thinking about the ‘shows’ I’d been exposed to and questioning where all the disgust that I’d first felt while watching it had gone. There was only arousal now. Arousal and a desire to… participate. To be the woman getting **** by her harasser, to be the grateful step-daughter offering her holes to her generous Daddy, to be the eager **** for a master who slapped his spit-covered dick against my pretty little face…

“Fuck!” I cursed again, hating the now growing arousal between my legs. My panties and shorts were already soaked. If I kept up this line of thought, my sheets would be the next victims of my stupid libido.

I needed a distraction. I needed to think about anything else. I needed-

There was a knock on my door. My ears perked up as I heard the sound of a familiar heartbeat on the other side.

Lena!

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[AUTHOR'S THOUGHTS: Yeah, so this one took me a lot longer than I thought. Sorry about such a large delay between updates, I promise I'm trying to be better about updating this story. Sadly real-life got in the way and I was **** to travel a bunch recently for work, which left me with little free time. In addition to that, I kinda got into text-based erotic roleplay via r/dirtypenpals over on reddit, and honestly that's been a blast, but writing erotic stories with other people kinda made writing alone feel like a bit of a drag at times. Regardless, I promise to do better and be a little more consistent about uploads. Thanks so much for the kind words welcoming me back. I look forward to writing more for you sick fucks!

Oh, and if anyone's wondering (I know some of you are) the gifs were made from Deepfake Porn footage. It is NOT the real Melissa Benoist. Most of you I figure are smart enough to figure that out, but just in case, I'm posting that disclaimer here.]