Epilogue: Superdomme

It had started slow. Lois had called in sick that day. And the next. By the end of the week, she'd gotten permission from her editor to work from home. At first, it was great. She stopped having troubles getting her work in on time. Kept in touch with her coworkers via email and messaging.

She thought they could make it work.

Then one morning, Lois awoke to find Kara sliding a vibrator inside of her pussy...and taping it in place.

"Just until I get home," the beautiful blonde had said...and Lois had gone through with it. She could have taken it out any time, but she left it in, all day. Because a part of her knew that Supergirl would know if she took it out.

It was hard, going through life that way. The constant stimulation. Made it hard to concentrate, hard to focus. Orgasms would come at unexpected, inconvenient times. She had to learn how to take a piss with it still inside of her.

Then came the pills. At first, Kara said they were vitamins. But she watched Lois take them. Ordered her to take them. Smiled a little wider, a little wilder, as she gave the reporter a pat on the head and called her a good girl, while the vibrator buzzed away in her cunt.

Lois wasn't sure what was in the pills. She'd start to drift off, sometimes. Just sit there with the vibrators buzzing in her pussy and ass. Unable to remember when they'd went to both holes, held in place with those black panties with the S-shield engraved on them. The ones Lois couldn't remove.

By the time she was worried, Lois found that she'd been locked out of her laptop. Her phone was missing. The locks on the apartment door had been changed, and Lois couldn't open them from the inside. The reporter took to staring of the balcony window, wondering if she could signal someone...or knot some sheets together and climb down...

It took three days for her to try. When she finally opened the door...when she expected to feel the cool outside air on her skin...

The hologram shuddered and rippled as she touched the wall.

That night, Kara had talked about piercing Lois's nipples, and the reporter had smiled and nodded. Realizing she was trapped, and she didn't even know where...or when it had happened. Sometime during the night, maybe, when the reporter was exhausted from hours of sex. Or during one of her ****-induced fugues. Kara had simply whisked her off somewhere...somewhere she had more control over her.

Lois began to tongue her meds in the morning. She felt sharper now, more alert. Noticed things she had missed. Supergirl's outfit had become more conservative. The Domme of Steel started to wear a mask. A costume of a shinier material that clung to her body.

Her books disappeared from the apartment, replaced by BDSM pornography. Japanese rope-tying fetish magazines. Some of it vintage, gruesome stuff, the Marquis de Sade. Weird elaborate fantasies of women being tortured, changed. Breast implants. Hormone injections. Piercings, tattoos, heads shaved...and Lois wondered, really wondered, how long it would take for Supergirl to get to that point, where she decided her **** would be a little more perfect...

...or needed to be punished.

I have to get out of here, Lois knew, her cunt and ass raw as the vibrators churned and buzzed away. But how?

There were knives in the kitchen. A microwave. An electric stove. Lois began to contemplate an accident...nothing too traumatic...just enough to draw some attention. Assuming the fire alarms weren't just for show...if there was anyone out there listening.

"I know you haven't been taking your meds," Kara had said, while Lois was in mid-thought. "That was very bad of you, wasn't it Lois? Slaves should do as they're told."

Lois swallowed.

"Slaves that don't do as they are told get punished," Kara said, unable to keep an edge of excitement out of her voice. She grabbed the reporter's upper arms, and for a moment Lois felt the sudden, insane fear that the Kryptonian was going to rip her arms out at the sockets, and leave her a limbless gimp living in a box, trapped with a pussy and ass stuffed with vibrating toys.

That was Lois Lane's great failure, she realized later. A failure of imagination. She had never been able to dream what her domme would think of next...