The Fateful Fucking of Fire (and Ice)!

With a second body-wracking boom, Galatea appeared in her body's apartment, still clutching Fire's hair and ass. The Brazilian woman's ability to fight back, already overwhelmed by the rough, eager mindfucking that she had been subjected to, wavered further as she instinctively left her pyroplasmic form. Galatea licked her lips as she gazed down at the squirming, blank-eyed beauty, setting her down in the queen-sized bed before turning to meet the rapidly-approaching figure of Ice. The Nordic superheroine was dressed to brawl in her usual fur-trimmed, knee-high platform heels and a pale blue slingshot bikini who's straps were just wide enough to cover her slit and large, sensitive nipples - although not the rest of the plump pussy mound that characterised Scandanavian women or her rosy areolae. Where Fire was carting around some serious junk in her trunk, Ice's rump was more modest - though still as plump and juicy as any metahuman's. What made her stand out were her breasts, the largest that any of Galatea's stolen memories contained except for her own (and J'ann's, at one particularly memorable Christmas party).

"What," Galatea wasn't sure if the venom in Ice's voice or the way her accent rendered her 'w's as 'v's was more of a turn-on, "have you done to Beatriz?" She opened her mouth to taunt the heroine, perhaps trick her into looking at her eyes rather than her chest, but a blunt lance of ice smashed into her face like a cannon blast. Also like a cannon blast, it shattered harmlessly - not even scratching her eyeballs or bruising her lips - but Galatea still sailed across the room like a ragdoll and crashed through the front of a walk-in wardrobe. Surging out of the pile of skimpy businesswear, lingerie and spare leotards, Galatea felt herself slam down to the floor in the middle of the room, her wrists and ankles clamped to the floor with glittering ice cuffs. Thrashing and twisting 'helplessly' against her bonds, Galatea used her perfect control of her own strength - just like she'd used her powers of flight - to feign impediment and disguise the fact that the manacles holding her arms above her head and her legs spread were no stronger than regular ice, the magic that would have granted them unnatural durability being drained into the powerfully vibrating Nth metal plug nestled in her ass.

"No matter," Ice snarled, "we will see if it still holds true when you're ****." She strutted forward with a predatory grace, tits bouncing with every step and eyes moving between Galatea's chest and the writhing form of Fire on the bed. Grabbing the remote for the wall-spanning HD television, she clicked it on and shuddered as the entire screen was suddenly filled with President Catwoman's latest campaign advert - an innovative blend of footage of twerking club sluts and pounding, throbbing beats that completely bypassed any message on policy to get directly to the heart of what voters really wanted. Matching the rhythm of her swinging hips and bouncing boobies to the thumping music, she turned around and planted her heels on either side of Galatea's head, forcing her captive to gaze up at her plump rump and soaked cameltoe. A gesture from Ice shredded her outfit with dozens of airborne shards and she tossed the ragged scraps of her bikini to one side. "Even Kryptonians need to breathe," she purred, rolling her Rs in a way that seemed to vibrate directly against every part of Galatea's cock and pussy, "so breathe deep."

With that, she slipped down until she was kneeling and then sat back. The part of Galatea's vision that she shared with humanity was completely filled by the pale globes of Ice's ass, the frosty peppermint scent of her musk filling the prone alien's head with the last breath she took before her nose was buried in the other blonde's taint and her mouth was covered by drooling Norwegian pussy. Galatea feigned panic, thrashing even harder against her frigid 'prison' and cracking them ever so slightly. Another flood of magic renewed them and was then drawn into Galatea's buttplug, intensifying the vibrations so much that they began to worm their way into the rest of her body. Ice was confident - she'd never met a woman or femme who could overcome the smothering sweetness of her pussy. Then, with all the speed she possessed, Galatea sprung her trap.

Most humans never stopped to consider the many physical differences between their own race and Kryptonians. Beyond the obvious physical and mental disparity and the various 'extra-biological' powers granted by the light of a yellow sun, there was one key advantage that all Kryptonian women held. It snaked out of Galatea's mouth like a predatory serpent, swiping the wetness from Ice's swollen lower lips and then slipping between them with nary a scrap of resistance. Galatea's tongue poked, stroked and prodded its way up Ice's pussy, occasionally pausing to scoop a mouthful of her prodigiously-voluminous juices into Galatea's hungry mouth. Peppermint and snow danced on her tastebuds with every careful twist and deliberate twitch of her powerful oral muscle, pressing every one of the beautiful woman's buttons in sequence. By the time one had sent its message of shudder-inducing pleasure up Tora's spine and into her brain, the next was being lavished with wet, firm strokes - and on and on and on, until the first twinges of that pleasure were starting to show on Ice's face and body.

Galatea surged up off the floor just as Ice's surprising first orgasm hit her, shattering her bonds like sugar strands and rushing upright with Ice's thighs clamped instinctively around her head. The blood rushing to Tora's brain mingled with the snap-pop of neurons as her orgasm was dragged from a brief, toe-curling burst into an endless battering upon her unprepared psyche. A heavy rod of flesh slapped across her face repeatedly as the woman she knew as Power Girl swung her hips and her captive both, superior mental acuity letting her time her cockslaps to knock any thoughts of resistance clean out of Ice's head while she went to town on her sloppy cunt in a standing sixty-nine. The heady, heavy musk of a rampant Kryptonian femme filled the apartment and began to spill out into the corridor as Power Girl's breeding instinct, suppressed by the sterile society of Krypton and now unleashed by the existence of Galatea, began to go into overdrive.

Roaring with depraved, delighted laughter, Galatea hurled the cock-shocked, pussy-addled form of Ice down onto the bed next to her friend, nearly bouncing the latina clean out of it as she continued to mindlessly hump upwards against her hand. In a flash, Galatea was on them both, forcing their ankles up next to their heads and ploughing straight into their helpless snatches. Spearing straight through to kiss Ice's cervix, then pulling out entirely and plunging down to do the same with Fire, Galatea leveraged her superspeed to its fullest, most perverse extent. Alternating thrusts at such a pace that neither realised that the other was even being fucked, she hammered each of their drooling quims with a vigour that no mortal human could hope to match with just one partner. Dipping down to mash her tits against Tora's own, or to grab Beatriz's jiggling badonkadonk for extra leverage, Galatea stole deep, soul-slurping kisses from them as she **** them to deepthroat her questing tongue.

Sticky white seed spilled out of the two heroines' holes in waves, churned up by the relentless churning of Galatea's cock. She felt sublime, she felt powerful, she felt potent, she felt- she felt the ever-present plug vanish, an instant before her asshole was finally, gloriously, completely filled. Two soft breasts, perfect in their oiled silkiness despite their marginally smaller size, squished and slipped over the muscles standing out on her back in a ruthlessly-skilled massage, unyielding hips struck her normally-firm ass with enough **** to make it jiggle like jelly. A wicked tongue swiped up her sweat and wriggled in her ear as two vice-strong hands squeezed and jiggled her knockers with a speed that even her mind couldn't comprehend. And the longest, thickest, hardest, hottest, most perfect femme cock she had ever experienced filled her entire asshole to the point that she was finally, finally satisfied. And in that perfect, cum-spewing, pussy-clenching moment, a smoky, impossibly feminine contralto came through the haze...

"Obey the ASS."

"O-Obey the ASS! Obey the ASS! Obey the ASS," the trio wailed, over and over and over as shining purple cum, flecked with gold, sloshed and splashed into their assholes and all over their bodies. "Obey the ASS!" They rutted and writhed mindlessly, slipping and sliding in the aftershocks of their divine visitation. "Obey the ASS!" No thoughts, no plans, no will, just endless, brainless pleasure. "Obey the ASS!"

Galatea stretched and groaned, feeling the white costume settle on her body. The white garment could barely contain her sweater puppies at the best of times, but now they spilled not only out of her cleavage window, but around the sides of the skimpy garment. Instead of the more austere leotard she'd once worn, this one was entirely backless, the material that (barely) covered her front was officially anchored onto the choker around her neck and onto her special buttplug down below - and unofficially it was held stretched-translucent over her chest by her fat, diamond-hard nipples. Ignoring the expansion of her curves and the extra six inches of height that she'd gained - just like she ignored the swelling of Tora's titanic tits and Beatriz's gigantic glutes - she admired the tramp stamp glowing on her back, the glittering purple cursive reading 'Bitch-Breaking Breeding Bull' revealed nicely by the cut of her outfit.

Flexing her muscles - and briefly letting her tongue dangle to its full collarbone-stroking length out of her mouth for good measure, it had more than earned it - she sprang out of the apartment's open window, leaving her twitching, insensate baby mommas in the cum-drenched ruins of the bed with their once-tight tummies bulging and their tongues lolling out. She had been able to subdue them through raw strength, but if she was going to seed the rest of the Justice League then she would need to act more subtly, to infiltrate them. With another boom, she was rocketing upwards toward the Watchtower, bursts of vibration blasting from her plug with a repetitive morse code signal...

Obey the ASS. Obey the ASS. Obey the ASS. Obey the ASS.