Fiona Takes Charge

The knock at the door startled me out of the reverie I'd been lost in for an hour. I'd been fretting anxiously over what was about to happen: I was going to see my fiancée for the first time in six months and I was terrified of how it would go. What would she have to say? Could I take her back after what she'd put me through? Did she even want to come back?

I'd asked Fiona to marry me on her 25th birthday while we were on a hike, resting at the base of a waterfall. She'd barely been able to hear anything I'd said over the crashing water, but the ring had gotten the message across. She said yes at once and burst into tears. We made out as the waterfall drenched us, but we didn't care. Our lives were perfect and we were going to spend them together. The sex that night was the best it had ever been. Despite our long day of hiking, Fiona had been bursting with energy and almost insatiable.

The next day, she disappeared. She didn't tell me where she was going or how long she'd be gone; she just left as if the vow she'd made to become my wife meant nothing to her. For six months, I heard nothing. I pestered her family for information, but they knew almost as little as I did. They had received a phone call from her saying that she was safe and not to go looking for her. Every day, I scoured the internet for any mention of her. In my wild imaginings, she was dead in a gutter in some third-world hellhole, or shacked up with an old flame, or partying her way through Europe in some drug-fueled last hurrah of singlehood.

It made no sense for her to leave. What had changed in the 24 hours between her saying "yes" to marry me and then abandoning me?

Now, just as suddenly as she had left, Fiona was back. She had called to give me an hour's notice that she was on our way to the apartment we'd shared for three years. She refused to explain anything over the phone.

"This is something I have to do in person," she said. "I owe you that much."

Was it a bad sign that she had knocked on the door rather than using her key? Was that a tacit admission that she no longer saw us sharing a life together? Six months without contact was a long time and nobody would have blamed me for moving on, but I still held out hope that Fiona would come back to me. I loved her as I had never loved anyone before.

I opened the door, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. Fiona stood there with an unreadable expression on her face. Somehow, she was even more beautiful than I'd remembered. Her vibrant red hair was cut in the same short style she'd worn before she left. Her eyes were the same shade of emerald green. But there was something different about her. She seemed more confident, more assertive, and more lovely. She'd always been fit, but now her body was like a coiled spring, taut with power waiting to be unleashed.

She was dressed casually in a pair of jeans that clung to her curves and a band t-shirt I'd seen her wear many times before. It was a lot tighter across her chest than I remembered. Either the shirt had shrunk in the wash or Fiona's breasts had grown. She had a small backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hey Owen," she said, her voice still had the faint Scottish burr that ten years living in New York City hadn't fully smoothed out. "We need to talk."

My heart sank at her words. Nothing good ever followed "We need to talk."

"It's wonderful to see you, Fi. I've missed you so much." I wanted to hug her, but her body language was cool and I decided to give her space. I fought back tears as I stood aside and gestured for her to enter the apartment.

I noticed something strange as she passed me and it took a moment to put my finger on it: Fiona was now taller than me. She'd been four inches shorter since the day we'd met, but now she was obviously taller than me by that much or more. How was it possible that she'd grown eight inches during her time away? Was my memory playing tricks on me? I looked down at her feet to see if she was wearing some kind of insane heels, but all she had on was a pair of sneakers.

"Were you always so tall?"

Fiona laughed. My heart leapt at the joyous sound that I hadn't heard in so long. "Don't be silly. I'll explain soon."

She dropped her backpack in the kitchen. Another bad sign for the future of our relationship. If she'd been planning to stay, she would have put her bag in the bedroom we had once shared.

Sudden anger rose in my throat. "You have a hell of a lot to explain! It's been six months. Where have you been? Why didn't you call me? I've been worried sick about you. You just left without a word!"

She put a finger to my lips. "Hush. Control yourself. You'll soon understand why I had to leave. I probably shouldn't even be here, but I thought I owed you an explanation. You meant so much to me. You still do."

"Do you still love me?"

Fiona tilted her head to one side. "Unfortunately, I think I still love you, and that is… problematic."

I poured myself a glass of bourbon and offered Fiona a scotch, which she took, gratefully.

"You're talking in circles, Fi. You're not making any sense. Is there someone else?"

She shook her head. "There's no-one else, Owen. There's never been anyone but you." She sighed. "It's complicated but also very simple."

I sat in my usual chair and gestured for Fiona to sit on the couch in the spot she'd always preferred. She shook her head and remained standing, with her arms folded under her generous chest. Her breasts had grown while she was away, there was no mistaking it. Had she left me for six months just to get plastic surgery? Her serious expression dismissed such a frivolous explanation from my head. The way her eyes bored into me and the intensity of her presence made me feel like a bug under a microscope.

Fiona sighed. "So, something changed on my birthday, something big. I changed. That's why I had to go away." She paused as if searching for the right words, then shook her head. "It's not anything that can be explained in words. I need to show you. But you have to promise you won't tell anyone."

I nodded. "I promise, Fi. Your secrets are safe with me."

"I'll hold you to that, Owen. You have no idea…"

Her ominous words hung in the air as Fiona vanished into thin air. One moment she was there, the next she was gone. Was I going mad? Had this whole visit been a figment of my imagination? Before I could get used to the idea of her being gone again, she was back, but she looked very different.

The jeans and tee-shirt were gone, replaced by an outfit that was horribly familiar to me and everyone else on Earth. I took it in from her feet to the top of her head, my heart beating wildly in my chest. Black boots, a shockingly short black miniskirt, a silver belt, a skintight, long-sleeved black crop top with a silver 'S' symbol emblazoned across her chest, and a long black cape flowing behind her.

She looked amazing. The fabric of the crop top clung to her newly ample chest like a second skin, following and accentuating her curves. The expanse of bare midriff between the bottom of her top and her belt showed that she had a six-pack of abs that were surely beyond the reach of any mortal woman. Her short skirt showed off her long, lithe legs that seemed to go on forever.

"Is this some kind of joke?" I asked. Deep down, I knew it wasn't.

Fiona shook her head. She floated up into the air until her feet were six inches above the hardwood floor. She looked down at me and met my gaze with a ferocity I had never experienced.

"Surprise! I'm Supergirl," she said. "My transformation started when I turned twenty-five. It took a day for the other Supergirls to detect me. Supergirl Morowa snatched me off the street on my way home from work. She took me to the Spire where I was initiated into the League. I couldn't refuse and I couldn't tell anyone where I was. I've been at the Spire for six months as my powers and my body grew to their full potential, learning everything I need to be one of them."

"This can't be happening!"

I was in a state of shock. The loving, generous woman I'd been with for five years was now one of the clique of dark goddesses who ruled the world with their super-strong fists. She had been to their stronghold, the Spire, a place no one other than a Supergirl had ever set eyes on.

It had been thirty-three years since Kara Lang, a young woman from a small town in Kansas, had gained incredible superpowers, taken the name Supergirl, and begun a reign of terror across the globe. Every year since, a new Supergirl had manifested her powers and proven to be just as malicious and powerful as the ones who'd come before. Where their powers came from or how a woman was chosen to become a Supergirl or why they were so malevolent were mysteries that the Supergirls discouraged anyone from exploring.

When there were only three of them, they had destroyed the combined armed forces of the world with contemptuous ease and formed the League of Supergirls as the world's ultimate ruling body. Three of them had taken over the world in a matter of days. A Supergirl by herself was acknowledged to be invincible. There were now thirty-two of these mighty women - plus Fiona - united in the common purpose of keeping humanity pinned under their boot heels. The world had no hope of ever being able to free itself from such an inconceivable concentration of power.

"It's happening. It's happened," said Fiona. "I'm Supergirl thirty-three."

The woman I loved was now one of the undisputed dictators of the world. The word of the League of Supergirls was law. They were free to indulge their basest desires without consequence, and they used that freedom liberally. Even a hint of discontent with their rule was enough to invoke disproportionate punishment. The fact that Cleveland no longer appeared on maps of the United States was testament to that.

Was my beloved Fiona capable of the intense cruelty the other Supergirls had meted out over the years? There was no other word to describe them: was she evil?

"You say that like it's nothing. Shit, Fiona, you… you're a Supergirl. What does that mean for us?"

Fiona sighed. "It's my calling to rule and my right to use those who are beneath me, and everyone apart from the other Supergirls is beneath me."

"Including me? Do you still want to marry me?"

Fiona floated down towards me and stroked my cheek. Her touch was so soft, it was hard to believe that her hand was capable of tearing through solid steel as if it were tissue paper.

"We can't go back to the way things were. We can't be in a relationship of equals, because we are no longer equal. I'm unimaginably superior to you in every possible way. There's a reason most of the other Supergirls don't form long-term relationships. They just take pleasure from whomever they want, whenever they want, because they can."

I remembered the events of the last Super Bowl, when Supergirl Rachel had interrupted the second quarter and kidnapped the quarterbacks of both teams. She'd taken them to her palace in San Francisco and used them for her pleasure. The next day they had been found wandering in the street: naked, dehydrated, and completely spent. They never talked about their experience and they had never set foot in a stadium again.

She continued. "Now that I'm not just Fiona, but Supergirl Fiona, it's not possible for you to be my boyfriend, my fiancé, or my husband. At most, you could be my plaything or my slave, but never more than that. You would have to accept my unquestioned dominance over you in everything. And I mean everything. You would have to obey me without question, serve me eagerly, and…"

She paused and looked at me with a curious expression.

"Oh my god! Is this turning you on?"

I instinctively crossed my hands to cover the growing bulge in the front of my pants. "What? No. How did you know?"

"I'm a Supergirl, idiot. I have super-senses. I can literally hear you getting hard. Your heart rate is spiking, hormones are flooding your system, your blood is rushing into your cock."

I blushed. "I…. Um…"

Fiona crossed her arms in front of her and glowered at me with a severe expression that did nothing to rein in my arousal.

"Explain yourself. I know that I'm basically a goddess and my mere presence can have an overwhelming effect on males, but you didn't lose control until I started talking about taking charge in our relationship. You're turned on by the thought of me dominating you! You actually want to be my submissive little toy."

This was something I'd never admitted to anyone, not even Fiona. Since I'd been a teenager, I'd been turned on by the idea of a powerful, confident woman dominating me. I'd been ashamed of these feelings, and kept them out of my relationships, but they were always there, simmering in the background. Now that Fiona had been transformed into one of the most powerful women on the planet, all my submissive fantasies were unleashed. I was losing control. The proximity of Fiona and the overwhelming power she wielded was intoxicating.

"My secret fantasy has always been to submit to you," I said. "I never brought it up, because I didn't think you'd be interested and I was worried you'd think it was weird."

Fiona laughed. "Now you have no choice because I'm Supergirl! You have to submit to me or else."

I lowered my head. "If it meant that I could still be with you, I'd do anything you asked. I'd be your willing submissive."

She stroked under my chin. "So very tempting, but I don't think you have any idea exactly what you'd be in for if I were to be your Mistress."

When she said the word 'Mistress,' I nearly came in my pants. The thought of Fiona taking that role was a dream come true. That she would do so with the power and body of a Supergirl was something else entirely. It was almost too much for me to bear.

"Mmm," said Fiona. "That struck a nerve."

She leaned in close and whispered in my ear. "Get on your knees for Mistress Fiona."

As I was obeying her instruction, I spasmed and creamed my pants. I blushed with embarrassment as I kneeled on the hardwood floor before her, knowing that her superior sense of smell would immediately alert her to what had happened.

Fiona floated up until her boots were level with my mouth.

"Lick my boots, pet." Her tone was mocking yet authoritative.

I took the toe of her right boot into my mouth and licked it vigorously.

Fiona laughed. "I should have done this before I became Supergirl. Having you serve me on your knees is delicious."

I switched to her left boot and licked, savoring the taste of new leather on my tongue.

"Enough," said Fiona. She landed and pulled my head up so I was looking into her eyes. "You've given me a lot to think about. Let's talk more over dinner tomorrow night. Your treat."

It took me a moment to mentally shift gears from licking her boots to arranging a date. "Um, yeah. Dinner would be great. Where would you like to go?"

"I hear good things about Millstone."

"There's no way we'll be able to get a table."

Fiona smirked. "I'll take care of that. Supergirls get what they want."

"Right. I wasn't thinking." I hadn't fully made the mental adjustment to the reality that Fiona was one of the women who held absolute authority over the entire human race. Of course she'd be able to get a table at the hottest restaurant in the city whenever she wanted.

Fiona changed back into her civilian clothes in a blur. "We'll meet outside the restaurant at eight. Don't be late."

The next evening, I was outside Millstone ten minutes before eight. I didn't want to risk disappointing or angering Fiona. When we'd spoken the night before, I had seen few signs of the gentle woman I'd fallen in love with: that soft personality had been almost completely subsumed by the dominant, authoritative Supergirl she had become. I'd spent most of the day stewing over it, but I still couldn't quite grasp that my beloved Fiona was now one of the invincible women who ruled the world.

She arrived on the stroke of eight, rapidly walking towards me with a powerful stride, as if she owned the street. In a way, she did.

Fiona was dressed to kill in a short, black, low-cut, leather minidress that clung to the curves to her superior body, accentuating everything about it that made me sizzle with arousal. She had finished off the outfit with a pair of knee-high black boots. It took all of my self control not to fall to the ground and worship her in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Wow," I said. "You look amazing."

Fiona nodded. "I know. I see you managed to find a clean shirt. Congratulations."

I was suddenly self-conscious. Had I dressed too casually for a date with a goddess? What was the protocol when your partner became Supergirl?

I opened the door to the restaurant and held it for her. "After you…" I paused for a moment before adding, "Mistress Fiona." My heart pounded as I said the words, unsure of how she would react. Was I being too presumptuous?

Fiona gave a small sigh of pleasure and I relaxed a little.

We entered the restaurant. I was stunned to see that it was completely empty apart from the staff. Just a single table was set in the middle of the dining room. Millstone was the hottest restaurant in the city, booked solid for the next year. It should have been packed.

"I arranged for a private dining experience," said Fiona. "Crowds can be such a bore."

Of course she had been able to reserve the entirety of the best restaurant in town just for the two of us. She was one of thirty-three women who literally held the power of life and death over every single human being on the planet. When she wanted something, she got it.

I pulled her chair out for her and waited for her to be comfortable before taking my seat.

The waiter scurried over as soon as we were settled. He was sweaty and clearly terrified. Fiona was not publicly known as one of the Supergirls, but she was obviously connected to the League in some way. The staff of Millstone knew that their lives depended on making our meal go smoothly.

The waiter correctly read our body language: Fiona's dominant and mine submissive. He gave her a menu first. He was about to pass one to me when Fiona shook her head curtly. He addressed Fiona and didn't acknowledge me.

"Would madam care to order some wine or cocktails?"

Fiona immediately ordered a bottle of the most expensive wine on the menu. I remembered that she had said dinner would be my treat and started to wonder if I would be able to make rent this month.

After ordering the wine, she went on to order food for the both of us, not bothering to ask what I wanted.

Finally, we were alone at the table. There was an awkward silence. How did one make casual dinner conversation with a woman who could bench press an aircraft carrier without breaking a sweat?

"So… How was your day?" I asked.

Fiona smiled indulgently. "It was good. I picked the location for my palace."

"Your palace?"

This was a woman who had argued against us moving into a larger apartment because she didn't think we needed that much space. Now she was talking about having her own palace?

"Of course. All the Supergirls have a palace. The Spire is just for official League business and training new Supergirls. I'm going to build mine right here in Manhattan."

"Where?"

There was literally no space on the island for new construction.

"Next to Central Park. I'm going to demolish a few blocks tomorrow, then we can start work on the foundation."

She was talking about razing some of the most expensive real estate in the country to make room for her new house.

"Supergirls Rachel and Adrianna are going to help me with the construction."

I shuddered at the thought of the infamous Supergirl Rachel being in the same city as me. She spent most of her time on the west coast, where she was renowned for her casual cruelty. More than almost any other Supergirl, she saw ordinary humans as playthings to be abused and discarded according to her whims.

Fiona sensed my discomfort. "Rachel has been like a mentor to me over the past six months. I know she can be overzealous at times, but she's been very kind and patient with me."

"Overzealous" was a polite way of saying that Supergirl Rachel used her powers to terrorize, torment, and sometimes murder whoever was unfortunate enough to catch her evil eye. The idea that such a vicious woman was Fiona's mentor gave me chills. Would this new Fiona bother to evacuate the blocks she planned to demolish before she pulled the buildings down?

"I should be able to move in sometime next week," she continued. She flexed her arms. "Supergirl Construction Company! Accept no substitutes!" She seemed lost in thought for a moment. "I'm going to fence off Central Park to be my palace grounds."

She was talking about taking an 850 acre park, the green heart of the city, and reserving it for her own private use. That was the moment when I realized just how much Fiona had changed as a result of becoming a Supergirl. The sheer callous selfishness of her decision was inhuman, as was Fiona. She no longer had any regard for those less powerful than her, which was everyone apart from her fellow Supergirls.

She was a goddess and the rest of humanity were less than nothing to her. Was I less than nothing to her?

"Mistress Fiona, have you given more thought to our relationship?"

She smirked and a chill ran down my spine.

"Oh my dear boy, I have given so much thought to our relationship, but I have not yet come to a final decision. I'm pleased you are willing to serve me, but I'm not convinced you are capable."

"I'm… I can do whatever you want, whatever you need."

What did Fiona need, now that she was a Supergirl? There was nothing I could do that she couldn't do faster and better herself.

She smiled. "We'll see. I'll put you to the test after dinner." She ran her tongue over her top lip. "Mmm… So, what else do you want to talk about? Perhaps you have questions about the other Supergirls?"

I was curious for sure. The workings of the League of Supergirls were a mystery and like everyone else, I wondered what happened in the Spire. What had once been Mount Everest had been carved by the hands of the Supergirls into a column of rock topped by a complex of buildings that more resembled temples than the seat of the world's governing body. Perhaps the Supergirls had wanted to emphasize their almost divine nature: they were worshiped as goddesses in many parts of the world after all.

"What's it like in the Spire? What really goes on there?"

Fiona laughed. "I know the rumors and I can assure you it's mostly politics rather than lesbian sex orgies."

"Politics?" It was hard to imagine the Supergirls sitting around a table discussing policy. From the outside they appeared to be a united wall of invincible womanhood.

"I'm still new and feeling my way around," she said, "but there are basically three factions of Supergirls: the moderates, the radicals, and the extremists. The extremists want to burn everything to the ground and destroy the world. I'm not sure what they plan on doing in the ruins once they're done. That's when the lesbian sex orgy will happen, I guess. There's only two of them, but they are very vocal.

"The radicals want to reshape society. They're female supremacists who think men should be subjugated to some degree or another.

"The moderates are in the majority. They're hedonists: more concerned with their own pleasure than the future of humanity. They like living in ornate palaces, eating in fancy restaurants, dancing in exclusive night clubs, and taking their pick of the most attractive men and women available. As long as they're in charge and able to do whatever they want, they don't see that anything else matters.

"And then there's Kara..." Fiona didn't elaborate and didn't have to. The original Supergirl was even more of an enigma than the ones who had come after her.

I was taken aback by the revelation that some of the League had such extreme agendas. The only thing holding them in check were the other Supergirls, and that wasn't out of any concern for the wellbeing of humanity, but their own selfish desires.

"What faction are you in?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"I'm a moderate, I guess," said Fiona. "A lot of what the radicals say is convincing, but it would be so much work to put in place and I'd rather spend that time having fun."

"So, does the League do whatever the moderates want, since they're in the majority?"

Fiona shook her head. "No. They had to compromise with the radicals or risk a split in the League. Believe me, the last thing anyone wants is a Supergirl civil war, except maybe the extremists. That would be a world-ending event."

"What kind of compromise?"

"I probably shouldn't say anything, but I trust you to keep your mouth shut. As of next month, males worldwide will be forbidden to drive, own real estate, or hold any position of authority over a female."

I had been taking a sip of wine when she'd said that and I almost choked on it.

"Are you kidding? That was the compromise?"

"Yes, a compromise you should be grateful for. There were much more extreme proposals considered. Supergirl Aiko was pushing hard to make it illegal for men to wear clothes. Supergirl Michele wanted global male chastity and she was two votes from getting it. Supergirl Hansa wanted to make Canada an experimental 'female supremacy zone' where males would have no rights whatsoever."

She shrugged and then shook her head. "Politics is a messy business. What's funny is one issue that causes the most debate is our costumes. They're all the same, because they're a pain to make, since they're bulletproof, fireproof, strongest material on the planet, yadda, yadda. Some of the girls want more variety and others think it's important to maintain the symbolism of the classic 'Dark Supergirl' look. We spent two days debating the pros and cons of booty shorts."

"It's good to know the future of mankind is less important to the Supergirls than… short shorts."

Fiona stroked me under the chin. "Aw, don't pout. We're goddesses: vain, capricious, selfish goddesses. Of course we care more about what we look like than the wellbeing of a few billion insignificant men."

I took a swig of the expensive wine. It should have been delicious, but was bitter in my mouth. We ate in silence as I absorbed everything Fiona had told me. I felt helpless, frightened, and more than a little aroused. I'd gotten used to thinking of the League of Supergirls as background noise: irrelevant to my everyday life as long as I wasn't unlucky enough to run across one of them in person, or stupid enough to criticize them in public. The thought they could strip me of my rights on a whim was terrifying, and that fear was part of what aroused me. These gorgeous women held absolute authority over me. The idea that Fiona could directly exercise that authority in person if she allowed me to be her submissive was intoxicating.

"Mistress Fiona?" I asked. "You mentioned putting me to the test after dinner. What would that entail?"

Fiona laughed. "Aren't you an eager little toy? I suppose you want to skip dessert so you can find out exactly what I have in mind for you, but I have my eye on the chocolate torte and I will not be denied."

"Yes, Mistress. Of course."

Under the table I was fully erect as I watched Fiona demolish the chocolate torte.

"One of the best things about being a Supergirl is not having to watch what I eat," she said. "My metabolism is like a nuclear furnace. I could eat a hundred of these without gaining a fraction of an inch on my waistline."

She patted her stomach and raised her eyebrows.

"Shall we go back to my place? I have the penthouse suite at the Plaza. It's not a palace but it will suffice for now."

I stood and went to pull out her chair. My arousal was an obvious bulge in my pants. Fiona stroked it with one finger as I passed and I almost came from her touch alone.

Despite my fear that the cost of the meal would bankrupt me, the restaurant made no attempt to have us pay. I imagined the scene if the waiter had tried to present Fiona with a bill: he probably would have pissed his pants in terror.

Fiona led me by the hand, walking so fast that I had trouble keeping up. When we were out of sight of the restaurant, she put one arm around my waist and effortlessly lifted us both into the night sky. The lights of the city were laid out beneath us as she flew to the Plaza.

"Quite a view, isn't it?" she said.

"It's amazing. How does flying even work? How does any of it work?"

"Nobody knows. Chao-Xing is the smartest of the Supergirls - total nerd - and even she hasn't figured it out."

"So, super-strength, super-speed, heat vision, invulnerability, flight, super-senses, and X-ray vision. Did I leave anything out?"

"I have dozens of more obscure powers, but the big one you missed is super-breath," she said. "I can breathe in a massive volume of air and compress it in my lungs. Then I can blow it out as wind more powerful than a hundred hurricanes or as a blast of air so cold it can freeze a man to a solid block of ice in a fraction of a second."

I gulped. "Have you done that?"

She paused before answering. "I have. As part of the initiation process we use all of our main powers to… Actually, I'd rather not talk about it. I don't want to ruin the mood."

I didn't press the issue. I had no desire to hear about my beloved Fiona using her superpowers to commit murder in order to join her exclusive Supergirl club.

"Here we are," she said after a few minutes. "The Plaza. I could have flown here in less than a second, but you wouldn't have survived the acceleration."

"Thank you for that."

She landed on the balcony on the top floor of the hotel and set me down carefully.

"Thank you for flying Fiona airways," she said, "We know you have a choice in Supergirls and we appreciate you choosing us today."

She slid the sliding glass door aside. Inside, the penthouse was a vision of opulence like nothing I could have imagined.

"It's not much," she said, "but I don't mind slumming it until my palace is ready."

"Right. Slumming it. So, what happens now?"

Fiona stroked my cheek. "First we're going to have a drink. Then, we're going to find out if you have what it takes to pleasure a Supergirl."

I swallowed. Over the years we'd had a lot of sex, but that was all before she'd become strong enough to snap me in two with her little finger.

"I think I'm going to need that drink."

Fiona laughed. "The bar is over there. Make me a rye manhattan and pour something for yourself. There's a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle that isn't half bad."

"As you wish, Mistress Fiona."

I hurried to comply. It felt good to be doing something for her, something normal. But there was also the added frisson that she hadn't asked me to make her a drink, she had ordered me to. I smiled that she still liked a manhattan made with rye. That was a piece of the Fiona I remembered from before.

"A cocktail for my Mistress," I said, as I passed the glass to her.

I waited for her to try her drink. She smiled and nodded. "Good work. Even if you aren't able to satisfy my sexual needs, I might be able to make use of you as a bartender."

We sipped our drinks and reminisced for a few minutes about a vacation we'd taken to Europe two years before.

Without warning, she commanded: "Remove your clothes."

I put my drink aside and stripped naked. I stood with my arms behind my back as she examined me closely. It was nothing she hadn't seen before, but now she had the benefit of super-senses to examine me in microscopic detail, inside and out. At one point she stared at a spot on my chest and I felt a slight warming sensation.

"You had a cluster of pre-cancerous cells in your left lung," she said, "I removed them for you."

"Um, thank you," I said.

"Kneel."

I fell to my knees and looked up at her. My heart skipped a beat as I drank in her beauty and her power. I trembled with anticipation and fear. How could I, a mere man, hope to please a goddess like her?

"I'm going to slip into something more comfortable," she said.

In a blur, she disappeared and reappeared wearing her black and silver Supergirl costume. The outfit was a symbol of her dominance over the world and over me.

"Can you guess the difference this time?" she asked.

"No, Mistress Fiona."

She pulled up the front of her skirt to show her pussy: clean-shaven apart from a narrow strip of vivid red hair.

"No super-panties," she said.

She floated towards me, her toes pointed down towards the floor. She pushed her pussy against my mouth and pressed her thighs tight against the sides of my head. I had a sudden moment of panic that she would keep squeezing until I expired, but she only applied enough pressure to make it clear that she was in absolute control.

She leaned back until the top half of her body was horizontal, using her flight power to stay suspended before me with my face buried between her legs.

"Worship my pussy," she said. "Show me whether your tongue has what it takes to make Supergirl orgasm."

I nodded and began to service her, exploring every inch of her with my tongue. Her pussy had changed since she'd gained her powers. Her clit was firmer, which made sense since it was now as bulletproof as the rest of her. Her vagina was incredibly tight and almost hummed with raw power. Every time my tongue slipped inside her folds, there I worried that her vaginal walls would clamp tight and trap it.

Despite these changes, I still knew my way around Fiona's body: how she liked her clit to be licked, the rhythms and swirls of my tongue that would drive her wild. I knew when to grab her super-firm ass to pull her tighter against my mouth, and when to ease off, reach up, and caress her nipples.

After five minutes of intense oral service, the slight hint of salt in her juices told me she was about to come. A few more licks of her clit was all it took for her to explode in ecstasy. Being held between her thighs as she orgasmed was a powerful, terrifying experience. Her body quivered and shook as waves of pleasure washed over her. I worried she wouldn't be able to contain the immense power her body commanded. If I was going to expire between her thighs, then it would be now. But she had total control over her powers and her body: the pressure on my head never wavered in intensity as she shuddered in the throes of passion.

"More," she commanded. "I want more."

I resumed my task eagerly. This was something I could give my girl of steel better than anyone else. I continued to worship her as she came again and again and again. For a long stretch, there were no gaps between her orgasms, just one continuous climax that seemed to go on forever.

I was so focused on Fiona's pleasure, I had no idea of the passage of time. I only knew it had been a while because my tongue was tired and raw from licking her invulnerable pussy. Still, her sexual stamina showed no signs of abating. She was Supergirl after all. I realized with a sinking feeling that she could continue climaxing until my jaw locked up and I could no longer feel my tongue.

She sensed my fatigue and showed mercy. She parted her legs and floated away from me. Her pussy was glistening with her juices and I felt a surge of pride that I had been able to please her so well.

"That was acceptable," she said. "We need to work on your stamina, but it's a good start. Now, lie on your back."

I reclined on the hard floor. My cock was hard, pointing straight up, ready for her.

With a single fluid motion, she straddled me and impaled herself on my eager cock. Immediately, I knew I was in big trouble. The incredible sensation of her warm, tight pussy was overwhelmingly arousing.

"Mistress Fiona, I'm so sorry, but I'm going to cum."

"No you're not."

Suddenly, she tightened like a vice around my penis. I was still on the edge, I still felt like I was about to cum at any moment, but her super-strong vagina prevented me from releasing. With the risk of my premature ejaculation taken care of, Fiona rode me hard, pounding her hips against mine faster than humanly possible. Her pelvis was a blur as she fucked me like I had never been fucked before.

She screamed as she came, shattering the empty glass that had held her cocktail. The first orgasm didn't slow her mad rhythm for a moment. She continued to thrust her hips against mine with an inhuman rhythm.

Somehow, I was able to maintain my erection in the face of her punishing assault. I squirmed and writhed as I experienced a hundred damond-hard edges. The relentless crush of her vagina kept me on the brink of release, but didn't allow me to tip over. Fiona orgasmed on my cock a half dozen times, drenching me with her juices.

Finally, she seemed somewhat sated. With giddy anticipation I prepared myself to finally be allowed to cum, but instead of letting me orgasm, she increased the pressure of her vagina on my cock, painfully squeezing it to flaccidity.

"Tonight is about my pleasure," she said. "Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress Fiona."

She stood and loomed over me with her arms crossed under her generous bosom. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Didn't I please you, Mistress Fiona?"

"I'll admit I had some very nice orgasms, but you couldn't control your cock for even a second once you were inside me. I had to do all the work to preventing you from cumming. Your cock is obviously not up to the challenge of fucking me."

She tilted her head to one side and then the other.

"But your oral service shows a lot of promise… Perhaps chastity would be in order. I could have Chao-Xing whip up a chastity cage from a material she's designed that's unbreakable by anything short of a Supergirl. Something inescapable. Something… permanent."

I swallowed nervously. Part of submitting to Fiona was accepting that matters such as whether I would ever be allowed to orgasm or even have an erection again were hers to decide.

"I'm sure you'll make the right decision, Mistress Fiona."

She stroked me under the chin. "After all, your orgasms are of such trivial importance compared to mine, and it's not like I'd be locking up your tongue… But no, I think I'll leave you uncaged for now. However, you are forbidden to masturbate. I will know at once if you misbehave."

"Do you think you'll let me have an orgasm soon?"

Fiona shrugged. "If I feel like it. I might make you cum tomorrow, next week, next year, or never. You fantasized about me dominating and controlling you. How does your fantasy feel now?"

The truth was, I was more turned on than I had ever been. My cock was hard again and the urge to stroke it was almost overwhelming, despite and because she had forbidden it.

"Does this mean we can be together?" I asked.

Fiona smiled. "Yes, silly. Like that was ever in doubt. I do love you, after all. These 'tests' were just an excuse for me to get laid tonight. You can be my… let's call it 'consort.' That sounds much more official than 'toy.' You'll live with me in my palace and you'll attend to my needs. Mostly my need to have my pussy licked for hours at a time."

My heart soared. It wasn't the relationship I had envisioned for myself and Fiona when I'd asked her to marry me, but we would still be together.

"Thank you, Mistress Fiona."

"Call me Mistress Supergirl," she said, with a wicked smile.