The beehive is growing

Kara’s eyes snapped open to a titan’s hammer pounding inside her skull. The world spun in blurry swirls of blue and violet, and the air smelled of ozone and something else… something sweet, like hot honey.

“Where… am I?”

She lay flat on her back on a cold, polished surface. Ice. The Fortress. She recognized it instantly: the vaulted crystal ceiling, stalactites glittering like diamonds, holographic panels flickering with ancient runes.

“I came here… from Metropolis…”

A fleeting memory: the Arctic sky, the ice dome swelling in her vision, then… a golden figure floating.

“Mom…?”

She staggered to her feet, red boots squeaking on the slick ice. Her blue Supergirl skirt was rumpled, the S-shaped neckline slightly askew. She pressed a hand to her forehead; the pain felt like a Kryptonian nail driven through her skull.

Then she heard the laugh.

Soft. Sensual. Familiar.

She looked up.

And the air fled her lungs.

A few meters away, lounging on the ice throne her mother used for meditation, sat a creature.

Naked.

Golden.

With antennae.

With translucent wings folded against her back.

And with Karen Starr’s face.

But it couldn’t be her mother.

Her breasts—always impressive—were now monumental: two perfect spheres larger than Kara’s head, crowned with bronze nipples hardened by the cold. Her waist had cinched into an impossible wasp shape, etched with segmented lines that glowed like honeycomb. Her hips had flared into an hourglass curve that made her ass look sculpted by gods.

From her back sprouted translucent wings, folded like crystal fans, hexagonal patterns pulsing with golden light. From her forehead curled delicate antennae, like living jewels, swaying slowly as if tasting the air.

And her eyes… hexagonal irises flecked with gold, shining like amber.

Kara leapt to her feet, stumbling back until she slammed into an ice pillar.

The creature smiled—a maternal, warm smile edged with predatory hunger.

She spread her arms as if to embrace a lost child.

“Don’t you recognize your mommy, baby?”

Kara’s throat knotted.

“Who are you?” she demanded, voice shaking. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY MOTHER?!”

No. It couldn’t be.

But it was. The same face. The same voice. The same smile that had given her miles of hugs, wiped her tears when she was little.

“What… what happened to you?” she whispered, voice trembling.

The bee-mother laughed—not mocking, but sensual, provocative, like sharing a delicious secret.

She licked her lips.

“I met my king,” she whispered.

Kara frowned.

“What?”

The creature glided closer, wings humming softly.

“Easy… you’ll meet him soon, too.”

Before Kara could react, her mother lunged.

Time froze.

Kara tried to fly, but her mother was faster. She caught her mid-air, spinning her in a deadly dance. Wings buzzed, whipping up a wind that froze the sweat on Kara’s brow.

“LET ME GO!” Kara screamed, throwing a sonic punch.

Karen blocked it with a forearm, laughing.

“Always so feisty, my girl.”

Kara twisted, sweeping a leg. Karen vaulted over, wings flaring like a fan. She landed behind her, wrapping Kara in two *new* arms that sprouted from her torso as if they’d always been there.

"Four arms?"

Kara kicked, screamed, tried heat vision. But Karen was faster. She slammed her onto the ice floor, straddling her chest. Thick thighs pinned Kara’s arms. Her breasts hung like ripe fruit, brushing her daughter’s face.

“MOM, STOP!” Kara begged, tears in her eyes.

Karen gently cupped her chin, forcing eye contact.

“Shh, my baby,” she whispered, maternal and terrifying. “Let Mommy calm you.”

One of her new hands slid down her segmented belly, dipping between her thighs. Fingers plunged into her pussy, scooping out a handful of thick, white, glowing semen.

Kara thrashed.

“NO! LET ME GO!”

Karen ignored her pleas.

With the hand still holding her chin, she **** Kara’s mouth open.

Kara bit—hard—but her mother’s fingers were harder than steel.

“Shh…” Karen whispered, bringing the cum-slick fingers closer. “Just a little, sweetie.”

The fingers slipped in.

The substance was hot, sticky, sweet.

Kara felt it slide over her tongue, down her throat, burning like Kryptonian liquor. She tried to spit, but Karen clamped her palm over her mouth.

“Swallow, my girl.”

Kara sobbed.

And swallowed.

The cum slid down her esophagus like molten gold.

Then everything went dark.