Training

Kara Zor-el was tied in the air to an area covered in golden kyptonite. She didn't understand, but her memory was gradually fading under its effects. She felt weaker and weaker.

Messages were sent into the room, which she was to repeat at the slightest hesitation or forgetfulness. Electric shocks punished her.

Little by little, the words sank into her like second nature, and she began to repeat them.

• I am Luthor's ****, I belong to my master, my pleasure is Luthor's, my satisfaction is to please my master.

The words left her lips like a mechanical prayer, each syllable perfectly articulated despite the weakness gnawing at her muscles. Another electric shock tore at her nerves, making her teeth grind, but she didn't interrupt her litany.

The shocks became less frequent as the indoctrination succeeded, the smell of ozone eventually dissipated, and in the end, she dreamed only of satisfying her master, of belonging to him, of being his thing.

Kara's chapped lips still trembled from the last shocks, but her glassy eyes no longer blinked. The golden kryptonite pulsed around her, injecting enslavement into every pore of her skin.

After this treatment, Luthor entered the room, followed by two men carrying a brazier.

• So, ****, do you really want to belong to me?
• Oh yes, master, I am your thing. Kara was already moistening her innermost being at the prospect of belonging to him completely, body and soul.
• Well, know that I mark everything that belongs to me. I'll brand you with a hot iron. Are you still up for it?

Kara nodded, happy to satisfy her master and prove her submission.

Luthor took the red-hot iron, also made of kryptonite, brought it close to her face, then changed his mind and applied it to the nape of her right breast.

The incandescent brand burned into her flesh with a hiss, the smell of burning skin mingling with the metallic scent of kryptonite in the air. Kara's back arched violently, a strangled gasp escaping her lips—not in pain, but in perverse ecstasy. The heat melted through her invulnerable skin as easily as butter, the kryptonite-infused iron searing every nerve ending with exquisite agony.

Her thighs trembled, glistening with arousal, as the seal of House Luthor sank deep into her flesh. The pain was fire, the submission bliss.