Peaceful pleasure.

You explain away Kara’s absence to the other heroes who ask, even though you don’t know the real reason for her state the day before. But they accept a simple reason of ‘exhaustion’, and honestly, that isn’t far from the current truth.

There are no big incidents for the rest of the day. You make a fly by over the repair work being done in the wake of the eggdroid attack, but the people of Metropolis have it all well in hand. Still, your presence is a good morale booster, and morale is the game of the day. Good and helpful deeds throughout the city, posing for a few photos, it may seem small, but helping put people at ease after something traumatic. There’s a lot more to hero work than fighting.

But you’re also distracted. Eager for the day to end and get back to Kara, back to your brand new super pet. Every time a pretty girls goes by your thoughts swing to the beauty left lying in your bed. You keep catching yourself switching to astral vision, looking to see who’s ovulating, wanting to place Kara’s head on the bodies of girls ready to conceive.

In civilian guise you make one stop before heading back to the hotel. You have an expensive and nicely isolated room, but even sound proofing and privacy have limits, so you let the front desk know you’ve ‘picked up a girlfriend’ and pay a little extra for having a second guest around.

“A pretty, little thing Sir?” the clerk asks, and you get the impression that people with money have an tendency to bring dates, hookers and not-so-innocent school girls in as ‘extra guests’ quite often.

“The prettiest thing,” you smile back.

Your heartbeat quickens as you draw closer to your room. You want to just fly at super speed and rip the door off the hinges, but you have a secret identity to maintain. After some agonisingly human minutes you reach your suite. You crack open the door, ‘do not distrub’ having been left hanging outside, and find Kara asleep. She’s sprawled out on the floor, as naked as when you left her. Her breathing is soft, gentle, contented as she soaks in the evening sun. She had nothing to eat last night, and you made no provisions to feed her today, and in your astral vision you can see her body powering itself on sunlight alone. Maybe this super photosynthesis is the key to her incredibly tiny waist?

You admire her for a time. She makes no reaction to your presence, her delicate lips parted in slumber. You’ve kissed those lips, those breasts, those thighs… You’ve buried yourself deep in that perfect, hairless pussy. You turned Supergirl into sleeping beauty, living for her Prince.

You pick out too the few blemishes on her perfect, pale skin. The round bruises of the hickies you left on her shoulders, the abrasions upon her neck from where you choked her. Her body can withstand the **** of an exploding star, yet in her submission you have bruised her. She is ****, in your care, more weak to you now than to magic or kryptonite.

Smiling, you move to awaken her.