Powergirl: A Corporate Asset (Conclusion)

(Sorry it took so long! I struggled with parts of it, but I think the ending is pretty solid!)

She stroked her thumb over my bottom lip while I stared at her, sad-eyed, feeling small but trusting.

“Good girl,” she grinned, “Now, are you ready to go home?”

I barely hesitated. The response came out smooth, like I had practiced it.

“Yes, Miss Moon.”

* * *

Our destination turned out to be a sprawling mansion on at least 50 thousand acres of rolling, green hills outside the city. We flew over a towering wall that rose and fell with the terrain, snaking all the way around the property, as if to protect the land from invading barbarians. I could see a gate, cameras mounted every few yards along the stone ramparts, with an actual laser grid stretching over the top of it where barbed wire would be on any other wall. It was for complete privacy; the owner didn’t want anyone even thinking snooping around might be a good idea.

I knew immediately the land belonged to Clarissa. When she’d said we were going home, I hadn’t thought she’d meant HER home.

We passed over the very modern estate to a hatch that opened as we approached. The vehicle hovered down the opening and touched down at basement level, the hatch sliding closed behind us, leaving us in the sterile lighting of the underground landing pad. Apparently, Clarissa didn’t even want to be seen walking from her mansion to her vehicle; complete privacy.

“Home sweet home,” she purred at me as the shuttle door hissed open.

Climbing out, she hopped down with a peppy, almost girlish bounce and turned to wait for me to follow. When I did, she tugged on the leash, drawing me right up to her, then looped her arm around my waist.

“Mmmmm-WAH!” she kissed my cheek, squeezed me around the waist, then drew back just enough to smile happily.

I blushed, a little bit surprised and bashful at the sudden display of affection. I tried to look her in the eyes for a second, but looked down, trying not to squirm. I might as well have scuffed my sneaker on the floor and said ‘aww, shucks…’

Clarissa chuckled at the display of discomfort, reaching up to stroke the wet spot on my cheek.

“Adorable,” she grinned, “I never would have thought you’d be shy, Kara. I guess it’s kind of hard to be very sure of yourself without your powers.”

Leaning in, she placed another kiss to my warm cheek, making butterflies dance in my stomach.

“It’s fine, though,” she said, “I like it.”

With her arm still around my waist, she turned me then guided me down the small hallway that led into her mansion. An automatic door hissed open and we made our way into a longer hallway with hardwood floors and a pleasant painting scheme.

On the ride over, she’d pulled out a tablet to access a list of questions Erik the lawyer had sent that I needed to answer. Ever since I’d told her my kryptonian name, she’d started calling me Kara and that was just one of the questions she’d asked. She now knew how old I was, whether I had a social security number as Powergirl, if I paid taxes, my address, even my blood type.

But out of every question she’d asked, she never asked the big one: who I was when I wasn’t Powergirl. It was the one I’d been dreading and I’d been sure after every question she’d asked, the next one would be about my secret identity. Instead, not only had she never asked, I felt like she’d intentionally skipped questions that might give it away.

In the back of my mind, I kept wondering when she would ask and what game she was playing. It bothered me, made me a little more nervous as she led me down the hallway, past a few rooms.

As if she noticed the tension, maybe noting the slight stiffness of my gait, she let her hand slip down to my butt. She patted to reassure me.

“Relax, Kara,” she said, “You’re going to be staying with me for now. Everything is completely automated, so you won’t be bothered by a maid or the mailman. You’ll be able to stay here, safe, no one the wiser, comfortable, and under my scrutiny. I’ll even be working from home for a few days, to keep you company while we get you settled.”

I looked at her, a slight furrow in my brow. It was just going to be me and her in this place? Not even a guard or something?

She smiled, “We made a deal. You’ve accommodated my needs, been cooperative, and a model… prisoner. I don’t think there’s any need to cage you and this will keep you well in hand.” She tilted her head, “Unless you prefer a cell?”

I started to relax as I thought it over. She didn’t need any guards, in fact the less guards the better. She wanted to keep the fact that she had me a secret and, let’s face it, that’s what I wanted too. I could run out the door, but where would I go? What would even be the point in trying to escape?

I sighed and shook my head.

“No…” I said softly.

Clarissa gave my butt another pat, jiggling the cheek.

“I think that would be unnecessary,” she grinned, “Besides… what’s the point in owning a superheroine if they’re locked somewhere you can never touch them?”

I blushed at that, which was probably her intention. She giggled again while my stomach did a back flip.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d blushed before today. Now I couldn’t stop. Technically I’d never been a teenager, but this must be what it felt like, being unsure about my body, or even what to do or say. Did they all feel this small and outmatched by their environments?

Hand holding my rump, using it like a handle, she turned me towards through another door, that chimed and hissed open at our approach.

Beyond the door was a home gym that was larger than some homes. All sorts of workout machines lined one wall, while free weights and other exercise implements were on the opposite. It was at least fifty yards, part of it turf with markers for sprints, another part with mats for padding. You could train a team of Olympic athletes in this room with no problem.

Clarissa went quiet as she led me into the room. Our feet patted onto the mat and she kept my ass well in hand, molding as much as she could grasp in her fingers. She stopped me in the center of the room, gave my rump another pat. A quick look told me to stay there and she finally let go of me to reach for a weight lifting bench. She grabbed one end, scraped it along the mat until it was beside me, then set the silver case down on top of it.

I waited, hands by my sides, head lowered, watching her.

She unlocked the case with a click and lay it open on the bench. Inside were a few of the instruments Jeremy the engineer had been showing her, including the injection/tattoo device and the green shampoo bottle, fitted into a bed of foam to keep them stationary.

With the case open, she paused to regard the instruments inside, her hip cocking to one side as she mused over them. She ran her fingertips over the silvery injector gun, then the glossy vials of shining green fluids, considering something. Turning to me, she looked me over with a similarly thoughtful expression, pursing her lips as she eyed me up and down. She wasn’t displeased, in fact the opposite, the ghost of a smile on her lips as she eyed my breasts, down my stomach, to my hips, legs, then back up again.

I looked down at my feet, feeling awkward under her stare. I had no idea what she was thinking or what I should be doing, if anything. But even with my eyes lowered, I could feel her gaze raking over me, considering me in the same way she’d considered the objects in that case. It made me want to squirm; I had to resist crossing my arms over my breasts.

The stare lasted for several seconds before she placed a finger under my chin and tilted it up. Her gaze was waiting for mine, staring knowingly. Looking into my eyes, she released a sigh and let herself relax, her deliberate, business-like posture fading as she let her shoulders lower. She rested on hand on her hip and let the other dangle, her head tilting to one side, playfully thoughtful.

After another moment, she reached up and unclipped my leash, which had been dangling uselessly from my collar. She tossed it over her shoulder without looking where it fell, letting it sprawl over the matted floor.

“Powergirl,” she said to herself, “My superheroine. My Powergirl. My. Powergirl…”

I swallowed. She stepped closer, striding up until her chest pressed into mine, looking me right in the eyes. I looked away, then back, then away again, working my jaw.

This seemed to please her and she smiled. She reached up to run her fingers through my hair, stroking gently along my scalp.

“Relax, Kara,” she whispered, “Relax. You don’t have anything to worry about anymore. I’ll take care of everything. Shhh…”

She continued to pet me with slow, patient strokes of her fingernails, her breath soothing and even.

“It’s okay…” she breathed, “You can stop worrying about what you should do now. There’s nothing for you to do. Just relax…”

It was almost involuntary. After hours and hours of constant worry, nerves, humiliation, and uncertainty, the soothing voice and soft touch was all it took to calm me. I sighed and let me eyelids droop. It didn’t completely take away my worries, but it was a welcome balm, one that I realized I desperately needed.

As I relaxed, her other hand gently looped around my waist, holding me against her in case I swooned.

“There’s a girl…” she cooed, “I understand. I understand more than you realize. I do.”

She held me, thumb stroking the little gap between the muscles on my back, while her fingers combed soothing trails through my hair.

“It’s hard, being in your position. The entire world against you. On the wrong side of history. You couldn’t fight forever. You made the only choice you could.”

I swallowed, a small lump forming in my throat.

“Cards on the table: I know why you surrendered, Kara,” she whispered in my ear, “You had nowhere to go. You didn’t want to be torn to pieces by a mob or the government. You needed sanctuary, someone on the right side who would protect you from the others. A safe place you could admit defeat and lay down your arms.”

She drew back, enough to look firmly into my eyes.

My own baby blues were shining slightly, a hint of emotion crinkling my brow. I stared back at her and couldn’t look away.

“I’m going to give that to you, Kara,” she said, “That is my side of this deal. I promise, this will be as safe and as painless as it can be. Nobody breaks or takes what’s mine. Not the government, not a mob, and definitely not Lex Luthor.”

Looking at her, I believed her. Despite feeling a little exposed at how clearly she read my mind, it was still a relief. I let out another soft breath, eyes fixed on hers, like a cub might a mother bear.

“But… that also means you ARE mine,” she raised her eyebrows, “Literally. You WERE outmaneuvered, defeated, and acquired by me. I’ll do what I want with you. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll stop fretting. Then this will become much easier.”

She stroked my hair, staring at me, unblinking. For several seconds she was silent, watching, waiting to see if her words would sink in.

I swallowed again, chewing on my bottom lip.

“That will be your goal now,” she said, “To accept that and relax. Understand?”

Something about what she said sent a little chill down my spine. It wasn’t fear, just a shock of sudden revelation, noticing something familiar that I’d dispensed, but never received until now.

My eyelashes fluttered and I lowered my eyes. It took me a second to figure it out, but when I did it sent that thrill of cold right back down the curve of my back.

I realized why she had always outmaneuvered me, in business and in the cape.

I’d never been in this position before, powerless and a prisoner. I was proactive, moving forward, overcoming, and without that I had no idea what to do. It left me feeling exposed, awkward, and nervous, constantly worrying.

Clarissa grinned coyly, leaning close to press a kiss just beside my lips.

She’d known what I’d needed even when I didn’t and she’d given it to me: something to focus on, to do with myself and think about. Not only had she given it to me, she’d done it in just the right way, setting a mission before me to achieve. And even though I knew what she was doing, I could already feel it calming me, some of the tension in my chest fading, shoulders relaxing.

Being able to see that need in other people and how to fulfill was what I had been good at as a businesswoman. I’d done similar things numerous times for my vendors, staff, and customers, but no one had ever done it for me before. Looking into Clarissa’s eyes now, I knew that she was better at that than I was, by a long shot.

She was just better than me.

The moment I accepted that, I groaned faintly.

Clarissa noticed the sound, the softening of my tense body and knew what it meant immediately.

“Mmmm, that’s it,” her eyes narrowed with triumph, “Just like that.”

Her hands slipped away from my hair and my back, then converged on the belt at my waist. She unclipped it then let it fall of my hips. It thumped onto the matted floor.

“This isn’t easy,” she whispered, reaching towards one of my gloves, “But you’re going to be good at it. Better than most.”

Again, exactly what I needed to hear.

She plucked the fingers of my right glove and slipped it off. Like the belt, she let it plop to the floor at my feet.

“And I’m going to help you,” she said as she worked off my other glove, “We’ll be like partners, in a way. Together, we’ll make you exactly what you need to be to get through this.”

The other glove fell to the mat.

There wasn’t much to my costume, just a leotard, belt, cape, boots and gloves. Most of it had come off so seamlessly I’d barely noticed, but now I blinked as I realized what she was doing. Piece by piece, she was stripping away my costume, the outfit that in some ways made me Powergirl. She was already changing me, taking what she wanted, gently but insistently.

Yet despite knowing that, I felt an odd sensation of safety and comfort. It was a feeling I’d rarely had before, knowing that someone else was taking care of me, that I couldn’t and shouldn’t do anything about it. In a way, I’d never been more relieved in my life.

Leaning in again, she pressed her lips to my cheek, giving me a gentle kiss.

“Good girl,” she whispered, “Good, obedient girl.”

My heart fluttered at that, making me feel light and soft.

When Clarissa stepped back, just a couple of paces, I was much more relaxed than before, watching her solemnly with big blue eyes. A hint of nervousness still nagged at me, reminding me of my exposure and vulnerability, but that was only part of my worry.

I quickly looked down at my feet.

What was really bothering me, what scared me, was how I was starting to like her words of praise and her reassurance. It was so easy to let her control me, do as I was told, not worry about pride or any superheroic obligations. Letting go of it all was soothing, even pleasant, and that sent a thrill of fear down my spine. I somehow knew that once I truly let go, that part of me would never come back.

Clarissa watched me with a cruel twinkle in her eye, no doubt knowing exactly what was going on inside me.

“Now, then,” she purred, “Let’s get the rest of this costume off you…”

She paused, tapping a finger to her lip.

“Boots, please.”

I barely hesitated, “Y-yes, Miss Moon…”

And with that I bent down and began working my boots off.

It was awkward and I felt clumsier than usual, not just because of my lack of powers but my state of mind. I felt unsteady, hesitant, no longer as sure of my movements as I usually was. I lifted my foot to work the boot off but lost my balance and had to set it back down. Trying again, I managed to lift my foot and wiggle the boot down, hopping on my other foot.

“Careful,” Clarissa said, “No need to rush.”

I kicked the boot away, then lifted my other foot to repeat the process.

“Stop.” She abruptly said.

I stopped hopping and froze, looking up at her with a worried furrow in my brow. At the sharpness of her tone, I felt a twinge of fright, even guilt. Had I done something wrong?

To my relief, and a bit of embarrassment, she didn’t look angry. She strode up to me, took me by the arm and with a gentle tug, drew me towards her.

I followed, shuffling along as she guided me.

Rather than drawing me in for a hug, she stepped beside me as I got close then placed her hand on my lower back. She walked me to the weightlifting bench, next to the open silver case, then turned me around.

“Sit.” She said gently.

She guided me, hands on my shoulders to help me settle my butt on the bench.

I watched her, blinking and a little bewildered. She wasn’t angry, seemed to be helping me in fact, but I was so befuddled and not myself I couldn’t figure out why.

It wasn’t until she bent down, lifted my foot and began gently working the boot off that I got it.

“You can make things so much more difficult than they need to be,” she shook her head, “We’ll have to work on that, won’t we?”

I blushed and nodded, feeling as small as ever. If it hadn’t been for her, I would have hopped around like an idiot trying to wiggle that boot off, working myself up and maybe falling over in haste. I felt silly that I hadn’t thought of that, and ever more like I wasn’t in control. I had to rely on her now.

I had never been this awkward before, but I’d never been this thoroughly intimidated and dominated by someone either.

She slipped the boot off the end of my foot, then held onto my heel so she could glide her hand along my calf. It felt good, a soothing gesture, and only after she’d stroked down to my heel, did she lay my foot back down.

I sighed, feeling surprisingly safe and comfortable. It really was so much easier not to worry, to let go, and there was nothing I could do anyway. I was too messed up to think straight and the best thing I could do was just what Clarissa said.

“Up…” she said with a coy smile.

I stood.

“Turn around,” she whispered.

I did, shuffling around until I was facing away from her.

For a moment, I felt a little concerned, just a twinge of vulnerability at turning my back to someone that was my enemy. But Clarissa laid her hands on my shoulders, massaging gently and worked the twinge away.

“So good…” she murmured, “It’s nice when it’s easy, isn’t it, Powergirl? No need to make things difficult. None at all.”

I closed my eyes and lowered my head, letting the tension bleed away.

She was right. It was so easy. She had been right about everything. Nothing I’d done had meant a thing in the end. I should have done this a long time ago.

She worked her thumbs in small circles, pinching and softening any remaining tension in my arms and shoulders. With patient insistence, she worked away any worry or defiance until my knees felt like they would buckle. My head drooped down until my chin almost touched my chest, my body swaying, steadied only by her hands.

Standing slumped, it felt like the most natural thing in the world when one hand moved from my shoulder to the zipper at the nape of my neck.

“I know you can do this yourself,” Clarissa told me, “But I’d like to do the honors.”

The zipper slowly zipped down, the snug spandex splitting open in the back.

“It’s not every day you get to peel the costume off your beaten superheroine. And I’ve been looking forward to this…”

I didn’t even twitch as the zipper moved silently, parting my leotard to expose my marbled shoulders, the curve of my back. She worked slowly, enjoying it, so slowly and gently that the enormity of what was happening didn’t register with me right away. The zipper stopped just at the curve of my lower back and when she reached up to take the halves and draw them off my arms, the first feeling I noticed wasn’t fear or exposure, but… a hint of sadness.

As she rolled the spandex slowly over my breasts, I chewed on my lip as I processed what I was feeling.

My career as a superheroine was ending and so was my career as a CEO and businesswoman, but it was more than that. Superheroes themselves were ending. With so many heroes already in prison or worse, once it came out that I, one of the most powerful and stubborn superheroines on the planet, had surrendered, there wasn’t going to be much resistance left from the others. Once Powergirl threw in the towel, what options were reasonably left?

The sleeves were worked down my sleek arms to dangle, shriveled and empty, then Clarissa shimmied the rest down over my stomach.

All the other heroes and heroines would try to leave the planet or hang up the capes and disappear into obscurity, but that wasn’t an option for everyone. Some, like me, were too well-known to just vanish, even to another world. Many would have to find someone to surrender to, go to prison, or go out in a blaze of glory. Whatever the case, it was over.

And as Clarissa made small, pleased sounds, pausing to stroke over my bare shoulders… it wasn’t that bad. At that thought, shame twisted its way into my sad pangs.

Leaving my leotard hanging off my waist, baring my chest to the wall, the woman who had beaten me traced the muscles in my back. Her touch was light, skimming along turns and grooves, exploring and enjoying.

“You superheroes do keep perfect bodies, don’t you?” she mused, “Does it come with having powers?”

She traced her thumb down the groove between the muscles of my back, down the curve towards my hips.

“Well, I’ll have to keep you in shape, either way,” she squeezed the muscle of my arm, looking me over, “Can’t have you getting a chub now that you’re… semi-retired.”

Her hand clap-clapped on my butt, making the swells bobble beneath the spandex.

“Now turn around again,” she cooed.

I sighed.

As slowly as I’d done before, I shuffled back around. Feeling about an inch tall, weighed down with regret and resignation, I kept my head lowered, eyes on her stomach. I didn’t want to look at anyone at that moment.

It didn’t matter much. She wasn’t looking at my eyes either.

“And there they are…” she sighed.

Slowly, almost reverently, she reached down and took the undersides of my bared breasts in both hands.

My breasts weren’t as big as a lot of people thought, but they definitely weren’t small; not basketballs, melons. They were larger and rounder than they had any right to be, based on my body fat percentage and my muscular figure, which made them seem larger on me. The lack of spandex didn’t make them seem any less full, perfect orbs with surprisingly small nipples, only fallen slightly to the sides now that the suit wasn’t squeezing them together.

Clarissa smiled, fond and careful as she squeezed, sinking her fingers in just enough to test their softness. As opposed to the mauling and squishing her flunkies had subjected me to, she handled my breasts like delicacies, not rushed or over eager. They were valuable, something she had worked hard to acquire and would take her time enjoying.

“I imagine there’s quite a few people in the world who would be jealous of me right now,” she said, smoothing her thumbs back and forward over my nipples, “I doubt you’ve allowed many to handle you so liberally… am I wrong?”

I shook my head. Again, she was right. I wasn’t opposed to dates, but I didn’t have much time, what with my superheroing and being a CEO of a company. Plus, I had pretty high standards and probably wouldn’t let someone just… play with me like this.

When I didn’t look up, Clarissa took my chin and lifted it up for me, looking into my eyes.

I let her, staring back, eyelids heavy with weariness and sorrow.

It really was the end of the age of superheroes. Women like Clarissa would be taking over now, of not only the world but our bodies and everything we had. I never could have stood against the system she represented. Now all that was left was to do what she told me and try to learn to enjoy submission.

She looked into my eyes, assessing my expression for a few moments.

“Hmm,” she smiled, “I think I like that look. A little sad, a little humbled, a little resigned. It looks good on you, Powergirl.”

She stroked my chin, leaning a bit closer.

“If only I had a camera.”

Chipper, she gave me a peck on the lips, then nuzzled my nose before drawing back and letting go of me altogether.

While I stood there, my costume hanging off me so low I could see the top of my butt crack in one of the mirrors, Clarissa set to work. Turning, she tossed the green shampoo bottle up in the air, caught it in her other hand with a grin, then popped the lid. Upending it, she then squeezed out a liberal amount of the green cream into her palm.

“You’re doing just fine, Kara,” she told me, “Better than I expected, actually. It’s really not going to be so bad. You’ll do some interviews, have to do some perp walks, make some confessions and speeches, but it won’t last long. Then you’ll almost be like any Moon Solutions intern… with a few more benefits.”

She set the bottle back down and rubbed her palms together, creating a fine coat of the lime cream.

“Now hold still…” she sing-songed, “Jeremy said this might feel a little cold…”

With that, she placed one hand on my stomach, the other on my chest, and began slathering the cream over my bare skin.

It didn’t feel like anything at first, just a slight slipperiness and an oily smell, almost like sun-tan lotion. But as Clarissa continued rubbing working her hands over my skin, rubbing it in with slow circles, a chill seeped into my body, so sudden and intense it made me gasp.

“Ah-ah!” I jolted upright, eyes snapping wide.

Her eyes widened too and looking at my shocked expression, she laughed.

“Well,” she giggled, “I’d say it’s working…”

The chill raised goosebumps on my skin, seeping deeper until it made me ache. It felt almost like a muscle relaxant, but somehow with more of a sting. I shivered and instinctively hugged myself, crossing my arms over my chest.

Clarissa stopped and frowned at that.

“Kara,” she said, “Arms down, please.”

Shaking, squeezing my breasts with my arms, I looked at her. Her smile was gone, her chin lowered, eyes narrowed.

It was telling that I didn’t even think about saying something back. I lowered my eyes from hers, submitting, then let my arms sink down. They remained stiff, hugged to my sides as I continued to tremble, but I kept them out of the way so she could access my body.

She watched me for a moment, making sure I was going to keep them down, then smiled and reached out to continue her work. She palmed my breasts and worked in small circles, slippery, moving the soft orbs around as she rubbed the cream in.

“That’s better,” she cooed, rubbing and gently squeezing, “Just relax. It shouldn’t last for long.”

And it didn’t. No sooner had she said that, than the chill began to fade. In its place it left numbness, not uncomfortable at first until the strength started to fade from my muscles. My rigid posture melted as I was no longer cold, but suddenly heavy and lethargic.

“Mmm…” Clarissa made a pleased sound, continuing to massage and mold my breasts.

My eyelashes fluttered, starting to feel lightheaded as she worked the kryptonite cream in deeper. It felt like something was sucking my energy away, almost like blood loss, leaving me weak and pale. I swayed in place, shoulders slumping and knees wobbling.

“Feeling a little weak?” she cooed, letting one hand slide down over my waist, “That’s okay. That’s normal too.”

Dizzy, I wavered in place. This wasn’t good. I felt like I was… I was about to…

I toppled forward with a sigh, legs buckling, and fell into Clarissa.

“Whoops…” she giggled, catching me against her chest, “A little too much too fast, I guess. We’ll have to work out the dosage a little better.”

One arm looped around my waist, the other across my shoulders, she hugged my naked body to her, letting me feel her warmth. With my cheek rested against her shoulder, the support and warm body a relief to my weakened body, I moaned faintly, breathing against her neck.

She laughed again at the soft sound I made, then began to rock me gently side to side.

“Oh, Powergirl…” she sighed, “We made you just a little too weak…”

The hand on my waist slipped down, gliding towards something else.

“Too weak… helpless…”

Her hand snuck under the spandex seat of my leotard, feeling over the firm shapes contained inside.

“Too… defeated…” she whispered.

In the snug interior of my leotard, she palmed over both swells of my butt, roaming from one side, over the gap to the other. Finally, she chose one and squeezed firmly.

“Mmm…” she purred, “I always knew I’d be good at this. My first time out and I bring down Powergirl. Really not too shabby.”

Turning, she nuzzled against my cheek, then pressed a soft kiss to my temple.

“And you know? I think I’ve waited long enough.” Another soft kiss to my cheek, “I wanted to wait until the time was right, and now I want to know…”

I shivered faintly, for a completely different reason. I knew what she was going to ask before the words came from her mouth.

“I want to know,” she breathed into my ear, “Who you… pretend to be. Your human identity.”

I bit my lip, turning my head just enough to look at her out of the corner of my eye.

She was waiting, looking back at me, so close I could really only see her eyes. I could tell she was wearing a small, even innocuous smile, but her gaze was intense, passionate.

“Your… secret identity,” she said softly, “Tell me.”

I swallowed.

“Tell me now.”

I drew in a deep breath, then let it out. With it went the last bit of independence and hope. After what I was about to tell her, she’d have everything. I would belong to her more completely than even a slave.

I licked my lips, turned my eyes down to her shoulder, and whispered.

“K-Karen Starr.”

She blinked.

For an instant her expression was frozen. She stared at me dumbly, lips ajar, then she abruptly recoiled. Her eyes narrowed to slits and her brow lowered, nose wrinkling like she smelled something foul.

“What?” she snapped.

Grabbing my hair, she yanked my head back so she could get a better look at my face. I would have winced if I’d had more energy; as it was, I just looked worn and sad.

“What did you just say?” she glared at me, “Look at me. Say it again, louder.”

I sighed.

“Karen Starr…” I repeated, voice still soft and monotone, “My real name is Karen Starr.”

That seemed to almost make her angrier.

“Wh-what?!” she snarled, “No, you are most—you are certainly not…!”

She continued to glare but trailed off. Her lips moved a few more times, like she was about to say more, yet never found the words. Instead, she just stared at me, furious that she was a step behind for once.

I knew what was going through her mind; it happened the few times I’d told my secret identity to someone who already knew me as Karen Starr. There was something about being a superhero that made people not connect the face to that of a normal person. Maybe it was some kind of unconscious kryptonian mind control, maybe it was just cognitive dissonance, but for some reason people could look at Karen Starr, or Clark Kent or Kara Danvers, even without wearing a pair of glasses, and not relate that face and body to a god-like hero like Powergirl. Even telling people, they didn’t believe me at first.

Clarissa was sharper and more observant than most, so for her it was probably maddening. It must have bugged her on some level, maybe the reason why she’d gone after Powergirl in particular, subconsciously pairing me with her corporate rival. And now that she was forced to face it, it must have been like a slap in the face.

But as I watched her expression, her incredulity and anger faded. She squinted, tilting her head curiously, as if looking at one of those hidden picture posters or an optical illusion. She was starting to pick out details, put them together, connect the dots.

Then a grin pulled at the corner of her mouth.

“Huh… you do sort of…” she blinked.

She shook her head. Her grin split wide, eyes big and delighted.

“Oh my GOD!” she laughed, “You ARE!”

I slowly nodded, lowering my eyes again. That was it. Powergirl was done.

Clarissa didn’t stop laughing. In fact, she started laughing harder, her voice rising in pitch, even becoming shrill. It was unsettling how girlish she sounded, driven almost to hysterics. I wouldn’t have imagined the superior, controlled Miss Clarissa Moon was capable of giggling like this.

Letting go of my hair, she grasped my chin and squeezed, lifting my head to look into my eyes.

I meekly obeyed, letting her stare grip me.

There was nothing coy or controlled about her grin now. It was broad and wolfish, revealing the savage glee that had been hiding beneath the veneer of professionalism. That was what truly drove her, not money, not business, but conquest and domination. With her true nature revealed, she looked flushed, wild, even hungry.

And looking at her, I realized something else too: as pleased as she was to beat Powergirl, she was even more ecstatic to beat Karen Starr.

“Ohhhh… I SO own you…” she hissed breathlessly, “You are mine. Mine.”

But the words weren’t enough. She panted at me for a moment, then lunged, mashing her mouth to my own.

It was the most unpleasant kiss I’d ever had. Her lips mashed to mine so hard it hurt, tongue forcing deep like she was trying to gag me. She bit my lip, tugged, let it pop back then dove in again with a growl, her fingers gripping my butt like a claw.

I moaned in discomfort, the violence of the kiss tugging my chin free of her grip. She snarled and gripped my hair instead, dragging me back in so she could control my head.

None of it was about affection or even pleasure. It was pure domination, claiming territory. She feasted on my mouth, her hands gripping my body with animal possessiveness. Hers now! Hers!

And I didn’t fight it. After the initial tension, the surprise at being so roughly handled, I let out a soft moan of submission and let my eyes close. My well-trained, even buff body remained limp, arms dangling at my sides, my mouth hanging open to let her explore and claim. I let her have my butt, not even tensing as she squeezed, let her tongue push and tangle with mine, let her have my lips. I let her have my body. I let her have me.

Once the initial, feral excitement passed, and she realized I wouldn’t resist her, she gradually became gentler. She let out a long, pleased sigh and slowly tasted my lips, nudging my nose with hers and molding, kneading my butt with her fingers. She released the grip on my hair and ran her fingers through it instead, making a pleased sound in her throat.

I don’t know how long that part of the kiss lasted. It was warm and sweet and I let myself drift away, leaving my body in her care. She nuzzled, squeezed, made soft sounds that mingled with the wet sounds of lips.

When she was finally done, she drew back and guided my head to rest back on her shoulder, stroking my hair and holding me.

I was hers. As sad and ashamed as I felt, it was still comfortable and safe.

I breathed into her neck, claimed and contented.

After a few minutes, Clarissa’s hand slipped from my hair to her pocket. I didn’t know what she was doing and didn’t care.

Once I heard the beep of her blue tooth, it became clear.

“Carrie,” she said, “Throw everything out. We have a new plan…”

* * *

My board of directors weren’t all the friendliest people. Several of them I didn’t care for at all and the feeling was mutual. Try as I might, it was impossible to have nothing but allies on a body like that and to some level it was good to have dissenting opinions.

But dressed as I was right then, saying the things I was right then, even my staunchest allies were shaking their heads in disapproval. The members that never liked me to begin with were visibly disgusted.

“So, Starrware Industries will be ceding all premises, capital, and assets to Moon Solutions by… end of day today,” I read from a tablet, “As an independent corporation, Starrware Industries ceases to exist at the end of this meeting. I apologize for my conduct and my… insufficiency in the face of superior competition.”

Shoulders slumped, I finished reading the statement Clarissa had prepared for me and looked up at the table of businessmen and women. I kept my head low, expression flat and resigned. I’d be glad when this was over.

“A-are… there any questions?”

The boardroom was silent. I couldn’t blame them; I didn’t know how I would react to a situation like this. Ignoring the shock, it was hard to come up with a proper reaction to a CEO abruptly giving up and humiliating herself in front of her own board. Not to mention who else was in the room.

As usual, I was at the head of the long table where my board met, but it wasn’t me sitting in the chair. Clarissa sat in my seat now, wearing a small smile and watching everyone’s reactions, while I stood beside her, like an assistant or intern.

My outfit was something else as well. I was still wearing a skirt suit, but it was a size or two too small for me, the skirt squeezing my legs together and barely reaching my upper thigh. My jacket was snug as well but was more noticeable was I wore no shirt beneath, the buttons of the jacket being all that kept my breasts from spilling out. The entirety of my cleavage was on display, my modesty only barely protected, forcing me to move carefully to avoid a wardrobe malfunction.

But as inappropriate as that was, it wasn’t the most inappropriate thing about my choice of clothing. It was plasticy white, almost like pvc leather and on the lapel, as well as on the seat of my skirt, the Moon Solutions logo was printed in big blue lettering. I was more a Moon Solutions product than an Iphone was Apple’s.

The board looked at each other, incredulous, a few of them making disgusted sounds.

Finally, one of them spoke up. He was definitely not one of my supporters.

“Karen, I have to say, I didn’t expect we would come out on top of this,” he curled his lip, looking me up and down, “But… I frankly struggle to come up with a more pathetic display than this. Not even in a boardroom, but in a brothel!”

I swallowed and lowered my eyes, nodding slowly. I braced myself. More was coming.

“Your attire and—and bringing THAT woman to our meeting?!” his voice rose, “I—I’m at a loss for words! I truly am!”

None of the other board members contradicted him, even my allies. I kept my eyes down, like an ashamed child, but could feel them glaring at me. They were all some level of angry and disgusted, now that the shock had passed.

The man opened his mouth to say more, but then just stopped, shaking his head. I wasn’t fighting back, couldn’t even meet his eye. Continuing to hammer me would be like beating a dead horse.

“You are absolutely finished in this business, Karen.”

Someone else spoke now. One of my supporters.

“I hope you realize that. I doubt you’ll be able to get a job as the manager of a Burger King once this hits the news.”

I nodded, “D-due to lack of… other opportunities, I’ve accepted a position as Miss Moon’s private… i-intern. I will be staying on…”

Several of the board members got up before I even finished speaking. One by one, the rest followed by example, gathering up their things and marching towards the door. They had better things to do than listen to this.

“…t-to help with the transition…” I continued, even as the room emptied, “and… have been granted Moon Solutions funded h-housing…”

The board filed out, marching briskly away without even looking at me.

“I am… grateful to Clarissa Moon for her help and…”

The door closed as the last member left. It was only me and Clarissa.

“…thank you for…” I finished lamely, “…your understanding.”

Clarissa smirked, enjoying the silence for a moment.

The board room was like a ghost town. Several loose papers had been left on the table, along with drinks, chairs left pulled out, some of them knocked over in people’s haste to leave. It looked almost post-apocalyptic.

“Well, that was fun,” Clarissa chuckled.

I nodded, “Yes, Miss Moon.”

Grinning, the new owner of the corporation formerly known as Starrware Industries pushed her chair back and popped up, rubbing her hands together.

“You did very well, Karen,” she cooed, “And I think we’re almost done here.”

She ran her fingers through my hair, then leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

“Now…” she whispered to me, “Let’s go say bye to your employees. Pick THAT up…”

I nodded and turned to do as she said. Sat in the corner of the room was a cardboard box filled with the things Clarissa wanted from my office. Plaques, pictures, some odds and ends, diplomas and an award stuck out the top of it, a pile of my personal belongings. I bent down and picked it up, unable to keep from showing my blue underwear for a moment.

As I stood, I winced and had to tuck one arm underneath it. It was heavy without my powers.

“Good,” Clarissa stepped towards me, “Now let’s make a few adjustments…”

After unbuttoning my jacket and hiking up my skirt until it was bunched around my waist, she led me out of the room with a hand on my panty-clad butt. She opened the door for me, ushering me out and I stepped out onto the main office.

Waiting for us was Carrie, hugging a notebook to her chest. Having watched the board storm out of the room one by one, she wore a tart grin, her eyes dancing with amusement.

“Good meeting?”

Clarissa grinned back, “I think they were surprisingly receptive, given the circumstances.”

She patted my butt, coaxing me along.

“Now, let’s leave, shall we? This way…”

Just like when I’d first surrendered, we marched through the office, my head lowered, clutching something in front of me, while Clarissa guided me with a hand on my bottom.

There was an elevator closer to the board room, but we walked past it, going instead to the other elevator on the opposite side of the office. It was a much longer walk and we’d exit further from the entrance of the building, but they wanted to take me the long way. They wanted to take me through the cubicles.

When we reached the farm of desks and computers, my employees had gathered together in clumps, nervously discussing their prospects with hushed voices. They hadn’t seen me come in, but they could sense there was trouble and they’d seen the board storm out. They were worried about their jobs, whether Starrware was being merged or simply liquidated. Rumors were circulating, projects on hold, no one sure if it even made sense to keep working.

I lowered my eyes to my paltry box of possessions as we drew close, not wanting to look at them. I knew most of these people by name, not friends but friendly, a few of them even looking up to me. There was no point in seeing the shock and disappointment on their faces.

But whether I could see them or not, I knew when they noticed me. There were gasps, the whispers dying off and replaced by outright exclamations of shock.

“Oh my god…” someone hissed.

“Is that…?”

I could imagine what they were seeing. I was more than their boss, I was a celebrity figure with boundless energy that took charge of everything I stepped into the middle of. This was MY company, founded and built by me, despite all odds. In my late twenties, I was already more successful than most people in their 60’s. Many of them wanted to be me, some even seeking my advice and help to achieve their goals.

Now I was being marched out of my own building, head bowed and barely dressed, with only a box full of trinkets from my office. My jacket was open, forcing me to the box to my chest to hide my breasts, my skirt drawn up so my blue, satin panties were on display. I was beaten, shamed, my tail between my legs, wearing the logo of my competitor while my new “boss” led me away with a hand on my butt. The logo on my skirt was bunched up and indecipherable, but it didn’t matter; the same image was printed in white on my panties.

Clarissa and Carrie walked beside me in silence, wearing small grins and keeping their eyes fixed straight forwards, pretending not to notice the stares of the people they passed. This was an announcement, carried out much more succinctly than any memo.

My employees got the message loud and clear.

By the time the elevator opened for us, the murmurs were rising again, people sounding panicked. There would be no more work today; everyone would be preparing their resumes, calling contacts, selling their stock.

That’s how Starrware died. With a whimper.

Once we stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind us, Clarissa and Carrie shared a quick titter, grinning at each other.

There was nothing else that needed to be said. They were loving this.

I kept my eyes lowered, like Clarissa had directed, listening to the elevator ping as we passed each floor. I really hoped we wouldn’t stop; I couldn’t imagine how awkward it would be if someone tried to share the elevator with us.

Once we reached the ground floor, I knew it wouldn’t be much better. We would walk out the front entrance where news crews were waiting, my failure and humiliation broadcast to the world. The only thing I had to look forward to was getting home, where Clarissa promised it would just be the two of us for a while. Her enjoying me, cleaning me up, and getting me some exercise.

I felt her hand on my butt, massaging and squeezing through my underwear. She leaned in to kiss my cheek and nuzzle me. I’d found I liked that.

After we got through this, it wouldn’t be so bad. I just had to make it through a bit more.

“I received a call today,” Carrie smiled, “From a certain Zatanna Zatara…”

Clarissa turned at that, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh? Again?”

“She asked…” Carrie continued, “Well… more like begged to have a meeting with you. I think she wants to make a deal…”

Clarissa leaned over to kiss me on the ear.

I blushed, sticking my butt back just a bit to put more of it in her hand.

“You can call her back,” Miss Moon grinned at her publicist, “Tell her we can collect her Friday morning at 8 am sharp. The deal is complete surrender, she’s Moon Solutions property. Otherwise, she can deal with Luthor or Lord.”

Carrie made a note, then plucked out her cell phone, making the call.

Clarissa drew me a bit closer with a hand around my waist. She nuzzled against my temple and peppered me with a few soft kisses, making me squirm.

I hoped for her sake that Zatanna took the deal. It was best option she had.