They look for magical help

Power Girl's fists clenched beside Supergirl, her knuckles whitening as she fought against the same heated tension making Supergirl's thighs press together. Supergirl could barely think straight with the pulsing need between her legs - some primal part of her desired nothing more than to drag the nearest man into an alley and beg him to take her roughly.

"We need Zatanna," Karen gritted out, her voice strained in a way neither of them had ever heard before. The words barely registered through the fog of arousal clouding Supergirl's thoughts. Her swollen lips—when had they gotten so full?—tingled with the ghost of imagined kisses.

Supergirl nodded too fast, biting her newly plush lower lip to stifle a moan. "Right. Z-Zatanna first. She's usually at the Tower of Fate when she's not on stage." A fresh jolt of heat raced through her, forcing her hips to jerk before she could stop them. "Oh god, Karen, this is bad. I just—I imagined dropping to my knees for some construction worker and—"

"Don't!" Karen cut her off sharply, shaking her head as if she could physically dislodge the images plaguing them both. Supergirl saw her thighs tremble before she forcibly locked them together. "Focus, Kara. We just need to—"

A wet, **** gasp from the alley below interrupted.

They looked down in unison.

Diana—no longer recognizable as Wonder Woman, not with that obscenely swollen chest—was pressed against the brick wall, one hand kneading her enormous left breast while the other worked frantically between her thighs. Her armor was shoved aside haphazardly, exposing far more than any of them would normally allow in public.

"Mmn, yesss," Diana moaned, rolling her hips in crude thrusts against her own fingers. "So good, so heavy... feel them, K-Kara, they're perfect..."

Supergirl's face burned. Karen made a low, strangled noise in her throat.

"We are not saving her right now," Karen decided through clenched teeth.

"But—"

"Kara. Look at her."

Supergirl did. Against her better judgment, she did.

Diana came with a loud cry, her back arching off the wall, her breasts bouncing wildly with every **** stroke of her fingers. The sight sent an answering throb straight to Supergirl's soaked panties.

"...Point taken," she whispered, forcing her gaze away before her own hands started wandering.

They shot toward the Tower of Fate at impossible speeds, their bodies betraying them with every movement. And beneath it all, Aphrodite's laughter echoed in Supergirl's skull, mixing with the treacherous whisper:

Good girl, my sweet Super Slut...

Karen and Kara crashed through the Hall of Justice like two horny bats out of hell, barely able to focus. Supergirl's lips felt swollen and sensitive, her usually steady gait replaced by an uncharacteristic sway in her hips. Every time her thighs brushed together, an unbidden whimper threatened to escape. Karen wasn't faring much better—constantly adjusting her now-too-tight top, her breasts noticeably heavier, her face flushed as if resisting the urge to grind against the nearest surface.

Then there was Raven.

The sorceress looked up from the monitors, one eyebrow climbing so high it nearly disappeared into her hood. "You two reek of divine corruption."

"No shit," Karen snarled, white-knuckling the console's edge like she was restraining herself from pouncing on someone. "Aphrodite rebranded us. I'm—fuck—Power Pussy, and she's—"

"Super Slut," Supergirl groaned, immediately clapping a hand over her mouth in horror.

Raven's eyes narrowed. "...That would explain the fetish gear."

Supergirl blinked. "What?"

They looked at each other. Then down at themselves.

The realization struck like a punch to the gut.

Supergirl's costume—the once-proud, bright blue and red—had darkened, become skimpier, the fabric clinging to her like it was painted on. The skirt had shrunk, barely covering her ass, and the neckline plunged with a new, obscene confidence. The S-shield sat right between her tits, drawing the eye down in a way the old one never did.

Karen's transformation was even more pronounced. Her cleavage had become a yawning chasm, the white material of her leotard practically translucent. The P emblem, once proudly standing for Power, now resembled an arrow pointing directly between her legs.

Supergirl let out an involuntary whimper.

Raven sighed deeply. "This is way beyond my pay grade."

"But you have to help," Supergirl pleaded, grabbing her cloak desperately. "You're the only one here! You've got to—nngh—got to do something before I start humping the nearest piece of furniture and—"

"Enough."

Raven clapped her hands together, releasing a wave of dark energy that slithered into both heroes' minds. The burning arousal didn't vanish, but the overwhelming urgency faded—like a fire dampened but still smoldering.

"That's all I can do," she said, exhaling sharply. "The physical changes are Aphrodite's magic directly. But I've suppressed the worst of the mental compulsion. For now."

Karen released a shuddering breath. "How long do we have?"

Raven gave them a dry look. "Considering you both answered to your new titles without hesitation? I'd say not much."

Supergirl swallowed hard. "So what do we do?"

Raven's lips curled into an uncharacteristic smirk that sent chills down both heroes' spines.

"Find Zatanna. Fast." Her eyes gleamed. "Or embrace your new careers."

Fuck.

They were screwed. Literally. Soon. Unless—

Damn it.