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Little Firebug, 1A
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Little Firebug, Chapter 1, (1/2), [Erotic Supergirl, Wonder Woman)
Little Firebug Series
This is one of a series of stories that I?ve written that attempt to
describe the adventures of a very special girl by the name of Kara
Matthews, aka Supergirl. The initial concept borrows heavily from
various comic book stories, the most notable influence coming from the
DC Comics character of the same name, to whom I give all appropriate
credits.
My own characters, however, diverge significantly from any characters
depicted by DC Comics or any previous authors, both in their powers
and their actions. In particular, this story contains strongly erotic
material that is not suitable for younger readers.
IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SEXUAL OR VIOLENT MATERIAL, ARE UNDER THE AGE
OF MAJORITY IN YOUR STATE, PROVINCE OR COUNTRY, OR IF EROTIC MATERIAL
IS PROHIBITED BY YOUR LOCAL LAWS, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!
Chapter 1, ORGONE INFECTION by IHCOYC XPICTOC
When Kara came to, she found herself completely nude, and lightly
shackled and immersed in a large wooden tank filled with what appeared
to be warm, briny water. Her first thoughts were of sly surprise.
Whoever did this to me must have surely underestimated me, if they
thought something as weak as these chains can keep me here for long.
No one else was in the chamber. She could see vaguely through a plate
of glassteel into an adjacent room where there was a similar vat,
containing a tall black-haired woman chained in a similar tub, who was
apparently also struggling to escape herself. Someone in the same
predicament, she thought; not an enemy from whom I would need to
conceal my departure from.
So Kara was greatly surprised when, preparing her arms to break apart
the shackles and escape the brine, she was unable to do so. She -felt-
as strong as she ever was. They seemed to be made of nothing more
substantial than vanadium steel. But she felt the edge of the cuff
pressing against her skin more painfully than anything like that should
have. And the muscles in her arms, once tensed, began to ache as if
being asked to perform a much greater exertion, begging to be returned
to a relaxed position.
At this futile effort, a loudspeaker broke in from behind her, as if
someone was watching her all the time and waiting for this moment.
"Relaxing, isn?t it?" a female voice cooed. "The best way to get
through this is to just close your eyes and empty your mind, and let
the sensations seep into you, and wait for the second part of the
programme to begin. Don?t try to resist with your mind. That will
only make it worse."
And with these words, the hum of machinery began to make the water
circulate and swirl around Supergirl. The warm, swirling brine would
not have been all that unpleasant, except for the fact that her
apprehension, her failure to understand what was going on, made her
unable to appreciate it.
One thing was obvious. The liquid in the tub contained some kind of
drug, or drugs, that was relaxing her muscles, making her unable to
muster her strength; and that was somehow increasing the sensitivity of
the nerves of her skin. And to her sensitized skin, the constant
swirling of the fluid felt like she was being caressed all over by
gentle and inescapable hands.
Her backbrain insinuated to both Kara and Kara how nice it would be to
simply let herself go, to revel in the sensations of the tub. Both
conscious minds within her sought sternly to remind her of the grave
danger in such a surrender to an unknown peril. But it became harder.
Then, at the bottom of the tank, two jets opened up, filling the fluid
full of myriad?s of air bubbles. As she felt the first of the air
bubbles strike her skin, she gasped aloud. One airjet seemed to be
targeted at the area between her legs; the other aimed for the small of
her back; but the circling liquid carried the bubbles in complicated
patterns all over her body. Her sensitive skin seemed to report every
touch of an air bubble to her now severely over-stimulated brain.
Every one was a tickle, every one a kiss, impossible to ignore, and
rendering any further coordinated effort by her body all but
impossible.
It was also impossible for her to keep track of how long she was in the
tub. Probably hours. There was something about the device that
operated it that seemed to sense when she was getting used to one of
its patterns of operation, when it no longer surprised her and she was
growing accustomed to a pattern of tickles and caresses; for whenever
that happened, the flow patterns changed, leaving her as much at their
mercy as before. But throughout these strange sensations she was able
to keep reminding herself that she didn?t know what was going on, that
it was dangerous to yield to the machine. The effort to keep reminding
herself of this only focused her attention more and more on the
hard-to-ignore sensations that the swirling fluid was giving her.
Eventually, a door behind her opened. Someone put a blindfold over her
eyes. By this point, her body was entirely limp; so she was unable to
struggle, even, as a woman picked her up and cradled her in her arms,
carrying her to another room. The woman said, half-admiringly, "You
are a fine catch, you are. You will fetch a fine price on the market
at Trondur. . ."
At the mention of Trondur, Kara shrieked in alarm, and began once again
to weakly struggle against her bonds. No use! her body was scarcely
under the control of either of her consciousness then.
She was taken and stretched out on a sort of plush table, and chained
at the head and the foot of it. Someone entered and began sponging her
nude body with the same drugged, briny fluid she had been bathed in
before, using the sponge to tickle her in all the most sensitive
places. Then, the blindfold was removed, and she saw two Arion women
standing above her.
The first was one she did not recognize; a small, mousy-haired Arion,
wearing an eyepatch, and no uniform; probably a rogue trader of some
sort.
The second was Kirrin! It was she who was holding the sponge which
even now was wetting her inner thigh with more of the briny drug.
"Glad to see you," Kirrin said. "Really. The price you bring me will
help my plans succeed despite your failure to cooperate. . ."
She also saw the device she had been attached to. There was indeed a
table to which her shackles had been attached now. Above her stood a
complex apparatus, bristling with electrodes, which had been lowered so
that the discharge arcpoints were just maybe a foot above her body.
One electrode pointed towards each of her breasts. The third, somewhat
larger, was targeted at her crotch.
"Oh, great." Kara thought. "The sensitivity drug was just so they
would have to use less juice when they tortured me." She attempted to
steel her too-relaxed body and prepare her mind for the withering pain
she felt sure to be coming next.
"This part is always fun to watch," the mousy haired woman told Kirrin.
"You might want to stick around for at least the beginning." The
mousy haired woman then threw a pole switch. A pale blue-green glow
formed around the electrodes of the device. Her body, starting with
the most logical energy discharge points, her nipples and her pubic
hairs, began to glow with energy in response. Then, first small and
then larger bolts of energy began to arc between the electrodes and her
body.
The expected agony never came. Kara even began to relax a little, as
she entertained the hope that even in her weakened state her super body
might be able to withstand the worst this device had to offer. All it
seemed to do was tingle a little.
In fact, her nipples were starting to get a little hard ---
And as that thought crossed her mind, she involuntarily sighed a
convulsive sigh. Hard ---- yes! in fact her nipples started feeling
like they were going to explode! As soon as her attention wandered
towards them, it was as if the sensations inside them had crowded out
just about everything else in her consciousness. She then thought,
involuntarily, of the state of her clitoris, with the equally agonizing
realization that it was going absolutely apeshit with excitement. Her
relaxed groin quivered with moist anticipation.
She bit down hard on her lower lip, trying to get a grip on herself.
No use. Both Kara and Kara writhed in helpless horniness as her
utterly relaxed body had no choice but to open itself up completely to
the strange energy pouring into it. She tried once more to struggle,
to muster the strength to break free. The very act of trying to move,
trying to tense the muscles in her legs, brought her the first of
several orgasms, but every orgasm seemed inadequate, seemed only to
tantalize her further with the need for more and stronger relief,
relief which her shackles denied her.
The last thing Kara remembered was seeing Kirrin standing over her with
the feather of a large Terran bird. She was playing with the feather
through the energy field against Kara?s skin, between her bellybutton
and her aching loins. Kara twisted and struggled, half to escape the
tickling feather, half to move her hungry clitoris within its reach;
but Kirrin kept it tantalizingly out of reach.
"Once your therapy is completed, the slug-miners of Trondur will look
as good to you as you will to them, and you will be out of my hair
forever" Kirrin purred. Kara could say nothing in response; by this
time she was unable to speak. Her breathing was a fast and
uncontrolled panting, like that of a greyhound at the end of a run.
She felt like she was turning to liquid inside. Every nerve on her
skin now seemed as ready to explode as her clitoris ordinarily would at
the verge of a climax; and the sensation in her clitoris itself seared
her consciousness like a white hot supernova. Worse, whatever was
doing this to her was apparently capable of keeping her in this state
of excited suspense indefinitely. The intensity of desire might have
overcome the relaxing effects of the drugs and revived her strength,
but for the fact that it also made it impossible for her to concentrate
sufficiently to coordinate her muscles against her shackles. She tried
furiously to block out the sensations, to think of anything else but
her need to be touched. Nothing worked.
Kirrin let the feather fall across Kara?s belly, to tease her still as
she writhed. She then turned to the mousy haired woman and said,
"Come, let us consider the matter of payment." The two then left,
leaving Kara alone with the machine, and her thoughts of indescribable
excitement and frustration.
Her memories began to fade into an indefinite red blur.
Kara was the first to lose consciousness. Kara, her awareness of the
danger stiffening her will to a greater extent, soldiered on bravely
against the lust-agony a few moments more. But even her willpower
proved inadequate to resist the equally strong will of an
overstimulated super-body that had been reduced to a few of its
constituent parts.
* * * * *
The next thing either Kara or Kara remembers is coming to in a room
full of pillows. This seems to be a stone building. She is not on a
spacecraft. She is draped limply over the pillows. At least she is
free of those cursed shackles, she thought. There is a large Black
woman seated among the pillows between her legs. She gazed upon
Supergirl fondly but solicitously, with the concerned gaze of a nurse.
Supergirl herself felt utterly weak and exhausted, but despite her
exhaustion she could still feel the burning desire energy coursing
through her veins.
The Black woman is almost half again as large as Supergirl, powerfully
built, with broad shoulders, round eyes, and large hands. Her hair is
short and tightly curled around her head like a skullcap. She also is
nude except for two large silver bracelets she is wearing. Supergirl
lifts her head and sees other nude women scattered among the pillows
around the room. All of them are sleeping, apparently in exhaustion.
If these are the slug miners of Trondur, they aren?t so bad.
The Black woman sees Supergirl stirring. "Hello, Little Firebug," she
says gently. "Welcome back to the land of the living. We almost
thought we had lost you. Can you tell us your name?"
Supergirl moans weakly. "I?m not sure," she answers honestly.
Even if she thought it wise to answer truthfully, the remaining spasms
of orgone energy still coursing through her body left her too confused
to know how to respond.
"That?s OK," the woman replied. "Let?s see if we can work a bit more
of this out of you, and maybe then you will be able to sleep, and after
you sleep you might remember." With that, she placed her strong hands
over the muscles of Kara?s lower abdomen, and began to massage her
gently but deeply. At this touch, intense orgasms once again managed
to cut their way through Supergirl?s exhaustion. They came rapid-fire,
one after another, until they came in an unbroken flood, without pause
for relaxation. Supergirl gasped, and she could say no more; and soon
her consciousness fell back into the hungry oblivion whence it had
briefly arisen.
Eventually, however, the power of exhaustion managed to overcome even
the orgone energy charge of Supergirl?s body, and she passed from the
burning fog of her lust-madness into the healing mists of sleep.
* * * * *
When she awoke, she felt much stronger. Her first sensation was of a
ravenous thirst. Opening her eyes, she saw that someone had placed a
pitcher of cold water and a glass of water within her reach. She
almost immediately moved to seek it out.
The act of moving, though, shook some of the numbness of sleep from her
body. As she gulped down the water, the fire in her loins began once
more to burn brightly. She was so aroused that her back teeth ached
with lust. She let the empty glass drop and moaned aloud, and moved
both of her hands towards her melting thighs.
Her moan brought a chorus of female laughter from a pile of adjacent
pillows. She turned and saw four nude women peering over the top.
Three of them were laughing gently at her predicament. The fourth, she
recognized as the same large Black woman who had spoken to her during
her previous episode of consciousness. She was not laughing; she was
too regally seriousto allow herself to laugh at Kara?s plight, though
she was smiling bemusedly. She gestured to the other three women to
remain where they were. Then, in a voice used to issuing commands, she
said, "Come to us, Little Firebug! Try and stand up, and walk over
here."
Something about her tone of voice suggested to Supergirl that it was a
good idea to try to obey. As the four women shouted encouragement?s,
Supergirl attempted to coordinate her arms and legs and rise. This was
much harder to do than it sounds. Though her strength was all but
fully restored, and though the fires of the orgone energy had been
substantially relieved throughout the previous night (or nights?), the
mere fact that she was stronger and rested made the remaining
sensations all the harder to ignore. Her limbs still seemed slightly
stiff from long slumber, but the very act of moving them to shake off
that stiffness seemed to awaken sensual deliquescence that urged her to
remain.
But at the repeated urgings of the women and the commands of the
apparent leader, she struggled to her feet. She sighed and gasped as
she attempted to walk the distance of perhaps fifteen feet to the pile
of pillows where the women were waiting for her. She was aware as she
was never aware before, of the way the act of moving her legs in
walking pulled and pushed the muscles and tendons of her groin; and
these sensations from moving made her fear that she was about to lose
control once more. She made a few quick steps, and then collapsed
among the pile of pillows. But she had made it. The women who now
surrounded her cheered. "That?s a good sign," the leader said. "You
are starting to regain control."
All four women fell upon her quickly. While the other three held her
arms and attempted to soothe her anxious excitement and confusion, the
leader grasped her firmly around her waist, pulled up between her legs
and placed her mouth between them. Her lips were large and
cushiony-soft, yet powerful, and she busily but gently nipped Supergirl
with her teeth and slid her tongue gently between her lower lips. By
this time Supergirl at least knew what to expect, and had resigned
herself to it even if she were able to resist.
Kara had at last managed to convince herself that, whoever these women
were, they meant her no harm. She allowed herself the luxury of
relaxing. Her eyes fluttered open; and her gaze met the eyes of one of
the women attending her. She smiled weakly at her, and the woman
smiled back, with a look that was - mostly- tender concern, but gave at
least a hint of sly jealousy.
This time, she was going to remain conscious enough to enjoy this. As
she gave herself over to the machine-gun orgasms, she shuddered in her
bones, and began to heal further.
* * * * *
Wrapped in her involuntary bliss, she had no notion of the passage of
time. She only knew that the four women were taking turns
administering kisses and caresses to her nether parts, while the others
either tried to sleep, or cradled her head, caressing her face, arms,
and breasts. As she became more aware of her surroundings, their faces
became clearer to her.
The large Black woman, taller and much more robustly built than Kara,
was apparently a leader of some sort. There was something about her
that reminded one of the regal air of a powerful and lean lioness.
The second was almost as large as the leader; she was a busty, frizzy
beach blonde with very muscular arms and shoulders. She sported a
shiner, and apparently had been in combat with someone or something
recently.
The other two could have been sisters. They were shorter than the
other two women, shorter even than Supergirl. They both had long curls
of brown hair that reached almost to their hips. One was built almost
as brawny as her larger comrades; she had a button nose and a shy but
impish smile. The fourth had a beautiful, Botticelli face, nipples of
a memorable purple colour, and a lean hardness about her that showed
her muscles meshing and turning beneath her skin no matter what
position she happened to be in.
All four women wore large silvery bracelets on both wrists, and no
more, at least for the time being.
* * * * *
Eventually they were joined by three more women. The first two were
naked as everyone else; but the third wore the only item of clothing
Kara had seen for some time, even if it were only a purple sash that
would not have been considered adequate covering on Earth. The first
two nude women were physicians of some kind. One carried a
stethoscope, the other a sort of electronic device that looked like an
oscillator. All heads rose when the woman wearing the sash came in,
but she quickly gave the directive, "Carry on." Kara could sense that
all of her companions were paying careful attention to this woman,
though.
"Are you making progress, General?" the sash-wearer asked.
The Black woman immediately spoke up. "Amazingly, yes. She must have
taken an extremely large dose. I was amazed when she regained normal
consciousness. But she has been able to walk, and even speak a little.
I think she?s going to pull through this."
While the General was giving this report, the other two were examining
Kara with the devices they had brought. The woman with the stethoscope
was moving it all over her torso, and its cold touch brought a
different shiver that her body still managed to translate into an
intense pleasure. Meanwhile, the woman with the oscilloscope was
pointing a sort of scanner head at her, and looking at her screen, and
saying, "Amazing. She has incredible tissue density and energy
retention."
"No wonder this is taking so long," the frizzy blonde replied.
"They told me she is very strong," said the woman in the sash.
"This is the first time we have had to send a combat team rather than a
psychomedical team to assist in one of these recoveries."
"Don?t I know it," the frizzy blonde remarked at this.
At this, the medical team and the woman wearing the sash left the room,
and the women (combat team?) gave Kara once more their undivided
attention. Kara turned to her Black companion, and between gasps and
sobs, asked, "You?re a general?"
"Yes."
"Sorry if I didn?t salute. . ."
The General chuckled. "You seem to be able to talk once more.
I think you have realized by now that you are not our prisoner, and we
mean you no harm. I don?t want to have to keep calling you `Little
Firebug.? What is your name?"
"Kara," replied Supergirl. "But you can call me Little Firebug if you
want." She was uncertain even where she was. These peoples?
institutions resembled nothing she had seen on Earth before, and she
was uncertain whether she was in Earth or space. She decided not to
reveal her Terran identity immediately.
"Very good. I am, as you know, a general, General Damasippe, to be
exact. She --- pointing to the frizzy blonde --- is Close Combat
Specialist Colonel Solveig." The woman with the impish smile she now
learned was Weapons Specialist First Lieutenant Mikhailovna, and Miss
Botticelli?s real name was Martial Arts Master First Lieutenant
Natalya.
Great, Kara thought. She was in the Army now, it seemed.
She was not sure what these women were, though. They each seemed
stronger than the average Terran female, although by no means her match
yet. She asked, "Where am I, and how did I get here?"
"Where you are, Kara, is the Island of Colchica. How you got here ---
we rescued you from a slave ship. They try to make you go nuts, so
that they can sell you as a nymphomaniac who will do anything."
These words triggered Kara?s memories of her capture and mistreatment,
and Kirrin. The General continued, "We are members of a sisterhood
that is sworn to resist the mistreatment of women. You had been
captured by a space slave trader." The General obviously did not know
who sold her, and apparently had not met Kirrin. If she had it is
unlikely that even she would be here to tell the story.
"Was I sold as a slave?"
"Apparently not. You had not been branded, yet." This told her
nothing. It was unlikely that any conventional method of branding
would work on Kara.
Kara turned to Colonel Solveig. "Where?d you get the shiner?
Fighting the people who had enslaved me?"
"Actually, you gave it to me. You were thrashing around something
awful when we cut you loose from the orgone accumulator. As I told the
Queen, I knew that you were very strong."
"Oh."
"Are there any men here?" Kara asked.
The General laughed cynically. "Men? Men are weak. Even if there
were any here, in your condition you?d probably kill them, and they
would do little more for you than tease you." That wasn?t what she
meant, Kara thought, but apparently no.
* * * * *
The rest of Kara?s recovery was about as uneventful as a lesbian love
set lasting several days can be. Now, orgasms are enjoyable by
definition; but even they can start to get cloying after about the
sixteen millionth in a row. Shortly after she regained consciousness,
Kara could be brought to climax simply by stroking the back of her
hand; but as the hours wore on, the Combat Team found that it begun to
take a bit more effort on their part to get Kara off. Orgasmic
sessions began to buy Kara?s body a bit more rest; she was able to
remain still, wrapped in post-orgasmic bliss, for a few minutes and
then for a few minutes more, before she once again began to get
uncomfortably aroused. This allowed her companions more time to rest.
She began to show an interest in things other than the state of her
pussy. Grapes and fresh fruit were sent for, and Kara began to realize
how empty her stomach was. A scented bath was brought in, and Kara and
the Combat Team enjoyed that very much together.
But the most encouraging sign was that Kara began to kiss back, and to
attempt to return at least some portion of the pleasures the Combat
Team was showing her. Whatever suspicion Kara had of the women she was
with had all but dissipated by now, replaced by the camaraderie that
inevitably arises between a Supergirl and four women who have gotten
her off about four million times apiece in the course of a few days.
Kara and Lt. Natalya were curled up among the pillows, and Kara was
gently nibbling on Lt. Natalya?s fascinating nipple, which was the
colour of grape flavoured Pez. The lieutenant was beginning to coo
aloud with obvious relish. The General came over, though, and said,
"We?ll have to take you off this detail if you start enjoying this too
much." Natalya disentangled herself from Kara, and went over to pout
in the arms of Colonel Solveig, while the General offered her own regal
breasts to Kara?s fiery little mouth. Fortunately, all four women soon
learned that little Kara was more than enough for all of them.
* * * * *
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