Fire, Quenched!

Beatriz da Costa, alias 'Fire', raced through the air above the streets of New York. While far from her usual territory in Brazil, a member of the Justice League had to be ready to act at any moment - and so today, when she should have been enjoying a vacation with her best friend, she was responding to an alert about a new supervillain roaming the city. Sighing and wondering why the villains of New York were so inconsiderate, she jetted up above the skyline to get a better handle on where she was. She hadn't been able to contact Ice since they had split up to search, but that wasn't too concerning - nobody had been able to contact Power Girl either, and with Wonder Woman busy in Gotham at President Catwoman's request, she just assumed that their League-issued communicators were being jammed somehow.

She had just enough time to spot a figure up above the city with her, a few blocks distant, before they appeared in front of her with a sharp crack of displaced air. "Power Girl?!" Fire's eyes widened at the sight of her fellow superheroine, naked save for a black latex collar and black leather thigh boots with platform stiletto heels. The blonde woman was palming one of her backache-inducing breasts with her right hand, her left resting on her hips as they cocked to one side - and speaking of cock... "Wha- What are y- Why..." Fire's query died in her throat as her eyes came to rest on the massive slab of prime Kryptonian meat jutting out from Power Girl's crotch, made even more impressive than its size alone by the constant, rhythmic twitch that made her eyes flicker up and down to stay focused on it.

Beatriz knew that, as one of the rare non-femme members of the Justice League, she was especially **** to Slut Brain. The fact that both she and Tora were able to overcome this handicap and acquit themselves so well as heroines had drawn the personal attention of Superwoman herself, who had gone so far as to give them personal training on experimental anti-Slut Brain techniques, subliminally programmed into their minds so that they could escape from the dizzy, horny helplessness that afflicted women who were confronted with superior femmes. Her hands moved without input from her sluggish mind, delivering a harsh double spank to her own rear and digging her fingers into the soft, sensitive fat that covered the muscular core of her firm Brazilian buns. Releasing her ass, they slipped round to her hips and then glided up her body, over her abs to fist cup and then partially - although more completely than any pair of hands could cover the massive mammaries of the woman opposite her - cover her perky breasts. To complete the procedure, they let go of her chest and then twisted her nipples harshly, dragging her from her fugue state with a yelp.

"Power Girl?! What are you doing? Why," Beatriz blurted out, as if she hadn't already tried asking, "are you dressed like that?" Her eyes roamed her colleague's body, searching for anything that might be influencing her behaviour towards exhibitionism - but apart form the totally harmless new choker around her neck, there was nothing. Soon, Bea's eyes began to wander, tracing over Power Girl's unusually-pronounced muscles. Over her thick thighs, past her pronounced abs and further up, wandering from side to side to take in the swell of her biceps and then up to her face. Her pillowy, glossy lips, her high, sharp cheekbones, her eyes...

Bea's head swan as she looked into Power Girl's eyes. Far from the woman's normal baby blues, they were solid spheres of a bright, harsh red that seemed to heat even Bea's pyroplasmic body like the desert sun on human skin. And as Beatriz looked into those red eyes, she spotted something moving in them. She leaned forward slightly in the air, her arms and legs going slack as she put every bit of energy into focusing on those beautifully red eyes. Her mind moved at a crawl, seconds oozing by like hours as she lost herself looking for the movement in those red orbs. By the time she could see the golden spirals swirling endlessly in Power Girl's eyes, she was practically nose-to-nose with the blonde's smirking face. But for all that she was focused on those eyes, her own eyes circling mindlessly as they followed the spirals, every inch of Power Girl's body was being etched into Bea's subconsciousness.

Forget eyefucking her, Power Girl was practically fucking Beatriz with her eyes. Her gaze drilled into Bea's own like a horny femme's cock driving into slick, welcoming asshole. Every second they held eye contact was another second for the subliminals planted so generously by Superwoman to twist and contort around the unyielding mental image of Power Girl's harder new form, replacing posthypnotic suggestions with posthypnotic demands and trapping Beatriz's will in an inescapable scissor **** between those powerful Kryptonian thighs.

Watched by national and international audiences alike via the dozens of news helicopters that now circled around them, Galatea smirked as she gripped Fire by the hair with one hand and the chin with the other, forcing the Brazilian beauty's eyes to remain locked on hers as she sank deeper and deeper...