Emery Always Wins

Matt wasn’t just in the zone, he was the mayor of the zone. He anticipated his opponent’s moves and countered them without conscious decision making. Pure instinct drove his hands and fingers across the mouse and keyboard as if the peripherals were part of his body, attached directly to his nervous system.

It was almost enough.

The final moments of the match ticked down and he allowed himself to think the impossible: he might actually beat AzureSiren. With five seconds left, he had a razor thin lead of three points. Then, a last-second thrust from her Enchantress flattened a beacon on his left flank he hadn't been paying attention to, giving her the 4 points she needed.

AzureSiren had won again, by a single point. It had been six months since she'd appeared on the competitive Zephyr Rising scene and he hadn't managed to beat her once. He was good - number four on the global leaderboard, but she was better. As high-ranking players, they were often matched against one another for the 1v1 format he preferred, and this was the closest he'd ever come to beating her, but he'd come up short. Again.

"Good game, AzureSiren," he said into his headset microphone. "I thought I had you there, but you pulled it out at the last second. Maybe I'll get you next time."

There was soft laughter from his opponent. "Keep dreaming, Matterhorn! I'm going to keep you waiting and waiting and waiting. Then you'll wait some more."

Her voice had a seductive edge to it that sent a wave of arousal through his body. Without meaning to, he let out a small grunt of frustration.

"You okay there, Matterhorn?" asked AzureSiren.

Her tone was knowing, perhaps hinting she knew Matt was unlucky enough to be a male who lived in Vancouver, part of Supergirl Emery's domain. Two years ago, the blue-haired Supergirl had issued an edict that males in her domain were only permitted three orgasms a year. Arousal levels and climaxes were monitored and transmitted to Emery's enforcers via biometric wristbands all males were required to wear: exceeding the quota or tampering with the monitor could result in permanent chastity or worse.

The year before, he'd used the last of his allowed orgasms at the end of summer. The three months until the end of the year had been challenging, but had given him a strange kind of clarity. This year, which was almost half over, he hadn't used any of his quota. Most of the time he had his frustration under control, but sometimes the pressure of ten months without release was almost too much to bear.

"I'm fine, AzureSiren," he said. "Just tired. I'm going to sign out. Hope to play with you again soon."

Despite his unbroken run of losses against her, he meant what he said. Playing against AzureSiren was always a thrill - she challenged him in ways the other players didn't. His strategies and reflexes had improved over the last six months as he struggled to find a way to beat her.

"Good night, Matterhorn," said AzureSiren. "I very much enjoy playing with you. Sweet dreams."

Was that a hint of flirtation in her voice or was he imagining things through his haze of sexual frustration?

After logging out of Zephyr Rising, he wasted some time on the Internet. There was chatter on the Vancouver and BC forums about Supergirl Emery planning to reduce the male orgasm quota. Not all Supergirls set limits on male pleasure in their domains, but of those who did, Emery was one of the most lenient.

Apparently, she’d been overheard musing about the quota being too generous and panic had spread.

He didn't contribute to the discussion. There was no point - the blue-haired goddess who ruled over them would decide their fate based on her own unknowable whims. Posting about it online would do nothing at best and put him on the radar of Emery's enforcers at worst.

His mind drifted to thoughts of Supergirl Emery that weren't entirely proper for one of her subjects. Her incredible power and beauty both frightened and aroused him. His arousal grew when he thought about the absolute control she exercised over something as fundamental as his sexual pleasure. The idea that if she felt like it she could reduce his allowed orgasms for the year, or eliminate them entirely, left him weak-kneed. He wasn't naturally submissive but something about Supergirl Emery short-circuited his normal patterns of arousal.

He considered letting his fantasy daydream continue into more explicit territory and using one of his permitted climaxes, but he held back. By denying himself he was taking back a small portion of control from Emery. Not cumming was his small act of rebellion against her absolute authority over his pleasure. Climaxing while fantasizing about the architect of his denial would be a betrayal of himself.

His phone made the alert sound that indicated an incoming message from Supergirl Emery or one of her senior enforcers - usually a curfew notice or a video link to a male being punished for an unauthorized orgasm or attempting to meddle with his pleasure monitor. Viewing punishment videos was mandatory.

His heart stopped when he opened the alerting app. Below the glowing silver 'S' symbol of the League of Supergirls was his name. This wasn’t a general broadcast, it was a private message for him.

Matt Walker,

Meet me at the Pinnacle Lounge at 8pm tomorrow. Don't be late.

- Supergirl Emery

He stared at the simple message for a full minute, willing it to change but it remained stubbornly what it was: a personal summons from Supergirl Emery, the superhuman ruler of Western Canada.

What had he done? Why did she want to meet him of all people? If he was suspected of exceeding his quota or tampering with his monitor, her enforcers would have simply knocked down his door and dragged him away. Instead, she’d invited him to the most exclusive club in Vancouver. For what? Drinks followed by his public execution?.

There was no way to reply to the summons. His compliance was assumed. He briefly considered running but trying to escape from a Supergirl would be futile and make any punishment far worse.

He went back to the Internet to do a deep dive into Supergirl Emery. Maybe there was something in her background or recent actions to explain her sudden interest in him.

Supergirl Emery's official website

Most of the official information merely celebrated her reign over Western Canada and extolled her power, beauty, and wise management of selfish male pleasure. He dug into a few sites that were not illegal but frowned upon to get a more thorough biography. Before she'd become Supergirl Emery, she'd been Emery Gill, a video game streamer under the name VanPepper. She still streamed but her audience was now much larger, although watching was not mandatory. Her social media presence was wide but as deep as a puddle: mostly focused on how hot she was.

He'd never seen any of her streams. Watching someone else play video games held no interest for him, even if they were an impossibly sexy superwoman. He imagined watching a Supergirl play video games would be even worse than a normal streamer, since it wasn't as if a human could ever beat her.

She would always win. No matter how many times you played her…

The truth fell on him like a heavy weight from a great height. AzureSiren was Supergirl Emery. He'd been losing to a Supergirl for six months and it had never occurred to him that her seemingly inhuman skills were literally inhuman. Her interest in him wasn’t as sudden as it had first appeared.

"I am such a fucking idiot," he said to himself.

Curious, he watched a video of one of her recent streams. She floated in mid-air with her legs crossed, wearing a skintight, slightly translucent black leotard with a silver 'S' emblazoned across her chest. The tight material clung to her incredible curves like latex paint. Her nipples were prominent beneath the thin layer with a hint of pink showing through from her areolas. She played with impossible speed and skill, dominating her opponents with ease. His arousal grew as he watched. His hand unconsciously moved to the bulge of his hardening cock in his pants. He rubbed for a few seconds then stopped.

That was another reason not to watch Emery's streams. The temptation to rub one out and spend a precious orgasm was too great.

His phone alerted him to another message.

Matt,

I'm flattered but don't waste any precious orgasms before our rendezvous.

Wear the blue shirt - it brings out your eyes.

Sweet dreams.

- Supergirl Emery

P.S. I don't think you're a fucking idiot.

The blue shirt was hanging in his closet and he hadn't worn it in weeks. She’d heard what he’d said out loud a few minutes ago. He looked around his modest apartment in a panic but saw nothing. With her x-ray vision and super-senses, she could spy on him herself from miles away. Her enforcers could have installed tiny cameras and microphones in his home. How long had she been watching and listening to him?

He poured himself a precious finger of rye whiskey and considered his options. His choices were obedience or resistance, and resistance was just suicide with extra steps

She’d told him not to waste his orgasms. Did that mean she intended to take him as her lover? Was this her twisted idea of a first date? Most Supergirls used humans for sexual pleasure. Some even took consorts - human companions who shared their lives and beds. There wasn't much public information about what sex with a Supergirl was like, but it was well known that of the humans who entered a Supergirl's palace to pleasure her, many did not return.

He slept fitfully. The usual sexual frustration he felt every night was now compounded by recurring dreams of Supergirl Emery. Anxiety and lust were a heady mix. His cock remained hard most of the night and only the threat of Emery watching over him kept him from masturbating.

He called out from work, wondering if he would ever return. His company's new game would just have to be QAed by someone else. He needed the day to prepare for his meeting with Supergirl Emery. The Pinnacle Lounge was a far swankier place than he was used to - it was where the rich and relatively powerful women of Vancouver gathered to flaunt their wealth and any good-looking companions they had gathered. He would have been out of his element even without a Supergirl in the equation.

He decided to bring a gift. Nothing romantic - he didn't want to be presumptuous about her intentions - but something meaningful. He went to Forbidden Nexus, a store that specialized in vintage video games and collectibles.

"I’m looking for something special for someone special," he told Leo, the proprietor.

Leo gestured to the entire store. "Everything is special to someone. What are they into?"

Maybe if Matt had been watching Emery's streams from the beginning he would have had more of an idea of what she liked, but as it was all he knew was that she apparently enjoyed kicking his ass at Zephyr Rising as much as she enjoyed controlling the orgasms of every man in her domain.

"Anything from Zephyr Rising?" he asked. "Wasn’t there a limited edition Enchantress figure last year?"

Leo looked around to check that they were alone in the store. He went into the back and returned with a detailed 10" statue of the Enchantress, wearing flowing silver robes that barely covered her generously sculpted assets. Her hair was the same electric shade of blue as Supergirl Emery. Even the style was similar.

"Withdrawn from the market because of a marked resemblance to You Know Who."

Leo named a price equivalent to two months of rent. Matt paid. If he displeased Emery, he wouldn't have any use for money. The figure was a risk but a calculated one: he was gambling that her love of the game would be stronger than any perceived disrespect. Leo placed the figure in its original box and wrapped it carefully.

"You didn't get it here," he said. "Understood?"

Matt nodded.

"Who's the lucky girl or boy?" asked Leo.

Matt considered telling him and watching the color drain from his face but decided against it.

"I met her online," he said.

"Be careful," said Leo. "They might not be who they appear to be."

"I really hope so," said Matt. "I really do."

The rest of the day crawled towards the appointed hour of his potential doom. He did his best to put his meager affairs in order in case this was his last night on Earth and was shocked at how little his life amounted to. He shaved, showered, and obsessed over whether or not to wear aftershave. He decided against it, not wanting to offend Supergirl Emery's super-senses with a powerful fragrance. He thought about her and what she might want from him and his quota of orgasms, which necessitated another shower - a cold one - to continue his ten months of denial.

He took a taxi to the building where the Pinnacle Lounge occupied the top floor, arriving fifteen minutes early. He walked around the block a couple of times to steady his nerves before presenting himself before the guard who stood in front of the private elevator to the top floor.

"Name?" demanded the tall and impeccably groomed man.

"Matt Walker."

A flicker of emotion crossed the guard's face. Was it pity, fear, or envy?

"Go ahead, you're expected." He paused for a beat before quietly adding. "Good luck."

The elevator opened into a luxurious space dotted with low tables and sumptuous leather couches. The color theme was black and silver, echoing that of the League of Supergirls, with blue highlights as a nod to Emery. Along one wall was a long bar with a stainless steel counter that had been polished to a brilliant shine.

The rest of the lounge was busy but there was only one customer at the bar. Supergirl Emery was statuesque and divinely beautiful, her powerful form encased in a tight black minidress, her perfect ass floating a fraction of an inch above the bar stool. The dark blue of her hair was even more striking in person.

Supergirl Emery is dressed to kill for her “rendezvous” with Matt

Matt approached, his heart hammering in his chest.

Supergirl Emery turned towards him to reveal a pendant with a blue stone engraved with an ‘S’ hanging just above the inviting cleavage between her perfect breasts.

“Punctual," she purred. "I like that in a man."

He fell to one knee and bowed his head, making sure to avoid either eye contact or staring at her perfectly framed tits.

"Supergirl Emery," he said. "It's an honor to be in your presence."

"Respectful as well," she said. "I like that even more. Stand up."

He stood, but kept his gaze averted.

She took his jaw in one hand and gently but firmly turned his head towards her. He suppressed a gasp at the sensation of her touch. He was acutely aware that her fingers could crush diamonds with ease, but they felt soft and warm against his face.

"I want you to look at me, Matt Walker."

Their eyes met. Hers were a deep emerald green he could have easily become lost in.

There were two glasses of brown liquor on the bar in front of her. Supergirl Emery nodded for Matt to take one.

"I ordered for you," she said. "I know you like single malt scotch but can rarely afford the good stuff. I thought you might appreciate this 40-year Glengoolie. A vintage that precedes the reign of the Supergirls, no less."

He took the glass and nosed it. The aroma was layered and complex. Supergirl Aisling had destroyed the Glengoolie distillery six years ago after the head distiller had made critical comments about the quality of Irish Whiskey. There were plans to rebuild, but the remaining stocks were increasingly rare and pricey.

The worst of times: Supergirl Aisling destroying the Glengoolie distillery

"Thank you, Supergirl Emery."

She took her own glass and rose from the stool, floating with her black heels an inch above the floor. Even without the heels and the extra inch of air, she would have been taller than him. With them she loomed.

"Come on," she said. "We'll be more comfortable at my private table."

She glided across the lounge and Matt followed. Her table was anything but private, in the middle of the lounge on a raised platform. His rendezvous with the Supergirl who ruled Western Canada would be on display for all to see. She sat on the leather couch and patted the space next to her.

"Come sit," she said. Her tone was gentle but commanding, making it clear that disobedience or hesitation were not an option.

Matt placed the gift wrapped box on the low table in front of Emery and sat.

"Matt Walker, did you bring me a gift? How unexpected."

"I thought you might appreciate it, Supergirl Emery."

She didn't unwrap the box but rather glanced at it for a moment. Matt realized she was using her x-ray vision to examine his offering.

"The limited edition blue hair Enchantress," she said. "From your friend Leo at Forbidden Nexus, no doubt. Not illegal as such, but somewhat taboo. It's a delightful and brave gift. I think I was right about you."

Matt seized the opening.

"Right in what way, Supergirl Emery? With respect, why did you summon me?"

She raised an eyebrow. "So direct with the woman who holds your life and pleasure in her hands. Are you brave or simply foolish, I wonder."

"A little of both, Supergirl Emery, truth be told."

She laughed. "You intrigue me, Matterhorn. We've played thirty games of Zephyr Rising over the last six months. You've lost every time, but you were always gracious in defeat. Did you ever suspect you were playing against me?"

Matt shook his head. "In retrospect, there were clues I should have picked up on, but I didn't realize until you summoned me. I can be a little oblivious sometimes."

"I've spied on your other games as well, " said Emery. "You don't trash talk. You're gracious in both defeat and victory. You even give your vanquished opponents tips on how to beat you next time. You seem… nice."

He saw a glimpse of something in her expression. Vulnerability, perhaps, or a yearning for something out of reach. In an instant, it was gone, and she was back to being the steely Empress of Western Canada..

"You're resilient. You don't rage against my restrictions or take it out on other people. Do you have any idea how rare your good nature is amongst the bitter, angry, sexually frustrated little men of my domain?" she asked.

"At the end of the day, it's just a game," said Matt. "Life can be hard and games are a way to escape. I don't want to ruin the experience for someone else by being a jerk.”

"I was testing you in that last match by dangling the possibility of you winning and then snatching it away at the last moment. But you maintained your composure even then. Weren't you frustrated?'

He took a fortifying sip of single malt scotch.

"Again, with respect Supergirl Emery, living in your domain is one long exercise in managing frustration."

Her expression showed a moment of surprise at his boldness, quickly followed by amusement. She laughed and ran a hand along the inside of his thigh, and then cupped the growing bulge in the front of his pants.

"Oh, yes. My infamous 'three orgasms' rule. So much sexual frustration in so many males. I can almost taste the denial in the air. Do you think my rule is too strict, too lenient, or just right?”

He considered his reply carefully, acutely aware that his cock was racing to full hardness beneath her gentle touch.

“That depends on your goals, Supergirl Emery. What is the orgasm quota intended to achieve?”

“Ooh, clever boy. You sidestepped the question of how you feel about being denied by my whims and made it all about me. Questioning the will of a goddess is a dangerous game, however… Every Supergirl has different reasons. Michele limits male orgasms because of her philosophical belief in female supremacy. Aisling does it as revenge for millennia of oppression by the patriarchy. Aiko just enjoys humiliating men. Hansa is a predator and thinks sexual frustration gives her prey extra spice.”

“And what about you, Supergirl Emery?”

"I like to play games. I imposed the orgasm limit because it amused me. I speculate aloud about reducing the quota because it’s fun to watch the panic it arouses, so to speak. I play with the hopes and fears of males in my domain as pure entertainment. So, I’ll ask you again: is three orgasms a year too strict, too lenient, or just right?”

Matt took a sip of the exquisite single malt and gathered his thoughts. He was under no illusions that Emery was looking for honest feedback. This was all part of her game, testing to see if he was a rebel, a sycophant, or a coward.

"If entertainment is the goal, a blanket quota feels like a missed opportunity. A merit-based system where men are rewarded for good behaviour gives you possibilities for more interesting games."

Emery's eyes grew wide. "You devious little man. Another sidestep but this time with a suggestion for how to make my life more pleasurable. You avoid answering the question by undermining its assumptions. Do you think you would do better or worse under a merit-based system?"

"That depends on what behaviours you want to encourage," he said.

"You seem to be handling my current restrictions quite well. It's almost July and you still have all of your annual quota left. It's been ten months since your last climax. Your self-control intrigues me. Tell me why you haven't used your orgasms and don't try to lie. I can tell."

Matt examined her eyes and her perfect features for some sign of vulnerability he'd seen earlier but there was none. Which was more dangerous: trying to lie to a goddess or telling her the truth?

"It's a way of reclaiming some control over my body and my pleasure," he said. "You can limit the number of orgasms I have, on pain of death, but I can still decide when or if I climax. I mean no disrespect, Supergirl Emery, but choosing not to cum is a small act of rebellion.”

She tilted her head. "Rebellion? Do you accept my authority over your pleasure?"

"I accept the reality of it," said Matt. "I won't lie and tell you I'm happy to have been born into a world ruled by the League. I’m no simp for Supergirls, but I acknowledge your objective superiority over me and the rest of humanity, and I'm grateful for your leniency compared to some of the other Supergirls."

He took a deep breath and another sip of whisky. What he had just said was almost suicidally honest.

Emery licked her lips. She idly ran a finger around the tip of the bulge in his pants.

"I'm in two minds," she said. "Should I punish you for your impudence or reward you for your honesty? It's refreshing to be around someone who isn't a sycophant but it's also challenging. Supergirls don't always appreciate being challenged."

"I'm sorry, Supergirl Emery. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Just call me Emery. Your honesty has earned you that much."

Again, there was a flash of something else in her expression. A crack in the hard shell of Supergirl Emery to reveal a glimpse of the woman she had once been.

She teased him gently, squeezing and stroking his erection through his pants.

"It's interesting that your heart rate spikes more when I tease you than it does when I threaten you. You're terrified of me - as you should be - but you're also aroused and your lust is so much stronger than your fear. You're wrong, by the way. You don't control when or if you climax. I could make you cum right now with just a kiss."

"I don't doubt it, Su-, I mean Emery. The touch of a goddess can easily overwhelm a mortal man."

Emery laughed again. He wasn't sure why, but Matt was starting to enjoy the sound. He liked making her laugh.

"Is that what I am to you? A goddess?"

"Aren't you?" he asked. "You're inhumanly powerful and beautiful. You could reduce me to ash with a glance. You could flatten the city if you chose. You say you could make me cum with a kiss. Goddess seems appropriate, all things considered."

She leaned in close and ran her free hand across his chest while continuing to tease him with the other.

"Would you like to worship me?" she asked, her voice heavy with sultry promise.

"Is that what you want, Emery? You could have the most attractive men or women in your domain on their knees in front of you with a snap of your fingers. Instead, you play games with an ordinary guy for six months before bringing him here - not to your palace. Why? What can you possibly want from me that you couldn’t just take from whomever you desire?"

"I was right about the blue shirt," she said. "It brings out your eyes. Tell me, did you dream about me last night?”

Matt nodded, nonplussed by her sudden change of subject. His throat tightened.

“I did.”

She traced a web across his scalp with her fingertips.

“Do you remember the dream? What fantasies did your subconscious weave? Remember, I’ll know if you’re lying. Deception can’t hide from my super-senses. Did you take advantage of me? Did dream Emery kneel before you with her warm mouth around your cock?”

Matt blushed and shook his head.

"You'll be happy to know that dream Emery took charge. She bound me, teased me all night, and didn't let me cum."

"Now that's a dream that might become a reality," said Emery.

A melancholy expression crossed her face for a moment.

"So few dreams are like that," she said.

Matt tried to puzzle out Emery's state of mind. What did she want from him? What did she need? Was she sad? He felt a sudden moment of clarity and an impulse to do something very foolish. It was an act his mind and body were united in pushing him towards, despite the risk.

He leaned forward and gently kissed Emery on her glossy purple lips.

Her eyes widened in surprise but not anger. After a beat, she kissed him back. His arousal and frustration grew by leaps and bounds, but he managed not to cum in his pants.

Their mouths parted.

"What was that for?" asked Emery.

"I just wondered when was the last time someone kissed you without being told to."

"Fuck," whispered Emery. "I should have listened to Aisling. I told her about you and she said you sounded dangerous. She was right. You are fucking dangerous."

Matt stroked her electric blue hair tenderly, knowing that he was risking torture and death by touching her without permission.

'Why am I dangerous?"

"Because I want things from you other than obedience and submission. Don't get me wrong, I very much want you to bend the knee, but I don’t want to break you. I want something else, but I don’t know what or why.”

"Maybe you want a connection," he said. "Somewhere beneath the costume and the power is Emery Gill, craving someone to share her life with."

Her teasing had stopped, but his cock still throbbed with frustrated arousal.

"I'm Supergirl Emery," she said. "Emery Gill was weak and I am power incarnate."

"I think you're both and they can't be separated," he said.

"Be very careful before you dare to psychoanalyse a Supergirl."

Matt nodded. His mind was racing. There was a very narrow path - a needle he could thread if he was lucky - that led to his survival and perhaps a chance to help the other males in Emery's domain. One wrong step and he was a dead man.

"You kissed me and I didn't cum," he pointed out.

Emery laughed. "I didn't use any tongue."

"Did you enjoy the kiss more or less because it was offered freely rather than demanded?"

"I'm not sure," said Emery. "Which is unexpected."

He slid off the couch and went down on one knee. There was silence in the Pinnacle Lounge as every patron held their breath. It wasn't until then that he realized every moment of his interaction with Emery had been carefully watched by dozens of people.

He took her hand.

"Emery, I submit to you, willingly. Not because you demand it and not because I crave it, but because I think you need it. I want you to have it."

"Willing submission?" she asked. "Is this some kind of trick?"

"It's a strategy," he conceded. "You could coerce my obedience with threats, you could seduce me into sexual slavery with your beauty, but you don't have to. I'm yours if you want me."

"Mine," said Emery.

The look in her eyes was greedy and needy.

"All mine,” she repeated.

“Yours,” he confirmed.

She pulled him to his feet and put one arm around his waist. She grabbed his gift with her free hand. Suddenly they were flying. Emery blasted the windows aside with her heat vision before they flew through, soaring above the night lights of Vancouver. He tried and failed to find his apartment building.

"It's beautiful from up here," said Matt.

"As beautiful as I am when you're kneeling and looking up at me?" asked Emery.

"Nothing's as beautiful as that."

"Good answer."

She turned and flew south and west towards Vancouver Island where her palace was located. Whatever happened next, it was clear that Matt's old life was over.

Deep within her palace, Emery's inner sanctum was largely dedicated to her hobby. In addition to a beyond state of the art gaming PC, she had every console ever manufactured, each connected to an era-appropriate TV.

She carefully unwrapped and unboxed the Enchantress statue Matt had gifted her and placed it on a shelf in a display cabinet next to a dozen other Zephyr Rising figures.

"I didn't want to swell your ego," she said, "but your gift completes my collection."

"Nice,” said Matt. "This place is awesome. Is this where you stream?"

Emery shook her head. "No. This is private. Very few humans have entered my sanctum and even fewer have left."

The implication hung in the air between them.

"You should understand exactly who you pledged yourself to," said Emery. "The other Supergirls make fun of me for preferring to spend my time gaming instead of committing atrocities, but I have killed over twenty thousand people nonetheless. Some were dissidents, criminals, or had exceeded their orgasm quota, but most were just minding their own business until I dropped out of the sky to end them.”

She pointed to the enormous bed on the far side of her chambers.

"I have fucked men and women to death on that bed. I have broken their bodies beneath my hips or crushed their heads between my thighs as I climaxed. I'm as deadly as I am beautiful. Do you understand?"

Matt nodded, but he was shocked by her words. Intellectually he knew she was a monster, but hearing her say so without excuses or apology drove home to him exactly how out of his depth he was. He had given himself willingly to a dark goddess in the slim hope that she retained enough humanity to value him more as a companion or advisor than a plaything or corpse. He thought he'd seen something more in her but maybe that had been wishful thinking.

“I understand,” he said.

Emery stroked the still-hard bulge in the front of his pants.

"I'm glad to see that revelations of my true nature haven't dented your ardour."

Despite his obvious arousal, Matt wasn't ready to get physical with Emery just yet. He gestured to a translucent purple Nintendo 64.

“Would you like to play a game?” he said.

“I thought you were never going to ask,” she said.

Matt sat on the floor and Emery hovered next to him an inch above the floor. She arched her back, pushing her breasts against the thin fabric of her minidress.

"Are you trying to distract me?" he asked.

"Is it working?"

Emery proceeded to beat him at Mario Kart four times. Their fifth race was tight, but Emery maintained a solid lead until Matt bumped his hip against Emery and she lost focus for a moment, hitting a banana that sent her kart spinning. Matt's Donkey Kong crossed the finish line a fraction of a second ahead of Emery's Princess Peach.

They both stared at the screen.

"Good race," said Matt.

“You won,” said Emery.

“I did,” he replied. “Are you okay?”

She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him in for a fierce kiss. This time she used her tongue and he gasped as pleasure flooded through him, quickly taking him to the edge of orgasm. She broke the kiss at the last moment.

“I didn’t cum," he gasped.

"Barely," she said. "And only because I stopped. You're on a hair-trigger. We're going to have to do something about that. Maybe something you'll like and maybe something you won't."

She stroked his cheek.

“Why are you here?” she mused. “What is it I want from you?”

The vulnerability was back. She was more than just an unstoppable tyrant, she was a woman who craved something more than power and devotion.

“Someone who can beat you at Mario Kart?” he said.

Emery laughed. “You distracted me. That won’t happen again.”

“I’d like to distract you some more if you’ll let me,” he said.

“You’re not scared by me telling you I’ve fucked men to death?”

“Oh I’m terrified, but I think I’d be just as scared if you were Emery Gill with no superpowers.”

“Emery Gill couldn’t break your body.”

“No, but she could break my heart.”

A flash of anger crossed her face. She glared at him as if trying to see into his soul with her x-ray vision. The vulnerability was gone. The humanity Matt had glimpsed in her was a distant memory. She was a dark and terrible goddess staring down at an insect who had dared suggest the possibility of love.

“Are you trying to emotionally manipulate me?” she asked. “Because that’s a very dangerous game.”

“I’m trying to figure this out,” he said, exasperated. “Whatever the fuck ‘this’ is. You’re the one who reached out to me. How long did you spy on me before you decided to make your move? You’re driving this. You're in charge."

“And don’t you forget it,” she snarled "Strip. I want to see exactly what I have to work with.”

He obeyed without hesitation and removed his clothes. He stood before her with his hands behind his back while she inspected him, floating above the floor and circling him with a predatory look in her eyes.

"There are significant improvements that can be made. If I decide to keep you, I'll have my team put you on a diet and exercise program to sculpt you properly and increase your stamina. Stamina is very important for a consort.”

"Consort?" asked Matt. "That sounds awfully official."

Emery stopped in mid-air and shook her head. "Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. I don't know why I did. I've never had a consort. I've never needed or wanted one. I have a harem for my sexual needs."

"What about your emotional needs?"

"I'm a Supergirl, damn it! I don't have emotional needs."

"Liar," said Matt.

"You presume too much, Matt Walker. You offered yourself to me. Prove your submission: kneel and prepare to serve your goddess."

He kneeled. In a blur of super-speed, her minidress disappeared and she was suddenly naked before him. He gasped at the sight. The perfection of her body was almost too much to comprehend. She floated towards him and straddled his face, presenting a landing strip of blue pubic hair above her pussy to his mouth. Her feet weren't touching the ground but he wasn't supporting her weight on his shoulders; she was using her powers to float in the perfect position for oral service.

"Worship me," she commanded.

Matt's practical experience with cunnilingus was limited but he tried to make up for his lack of knowledge with enthusiasm.

"Pace yourself," said Emery. "This is going to be a marathon. My pussy may be bulletproof but it's also thousands of times more sensitive than the human equivalent. I like long, slow licks to start with, then circle my clit with the tip of your tongue as I get close."

He followed Emery's instructions and soon she was moaning and squirming, gently squeezing his neck with thighs that could crush solid steel but were completely controlled. She tasted like nothing he could have imagined: spicy nectar with a metallic tang. He sensed her quickening arousal and switched to circling her clit with the tip of his tongue, bringing her patiently and inexorably to the point of climax.

Her orgasm was frightening and exhilarating in equal measure. She screamed and writhed in the throes of ecstasy: a goddess completely undone by a frail human tongue.

“Don’t stop,” she panted. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He didn’t.

An hour later, he was exhausted. His jaw was in agony, his tongue was raw and swollen, and his vision was blurred. He’d used his fingers to explore inside her and stroke her g-spot - he’d been lucky to escape without her breaking them while she came. He’d lost count of the number of orgasms he’d given Emery somewhere past six. They had begun to run into one another until she’d been in a state of almost constant climax.

She unlocked her thighs from around his neck and floated in front of him.

“Stand,” she said. “You did well. I’ve never had a companion bring me that much pleasure the first time.”

He stood, but he was unsteady and shaky from exhaustion and muscle cramps in his legs.

“I’m glad I was able to please you, Emery.”

She looked into his eyes with suspicion.

“Are you really glad or is that another of your 'strategies'? You’re exhausted and in pain. You’re still sexually frustrated while I just had more orgasms in an hour than I would allow any male to have in a decade.”

Matt shrugged. “I know the tightrope I’m walking here, Emery. I want to see if there’s a chance for a genuine connection between us, but I can’t forget who and what you are. I’m glad I was able to give you so much pleasure because maybe it means you’ll keep me around long enough for us to figure things out.”

“I don’t know if your honesty is endearing or infuriating,” said Emery. “How are you so calm with a woman who could destroy you in a nanosecond?"

“I’m calm because of your power. You’re so far beyond me that getting bent out of shape with you would be like yelling and shaking my fist at a supernova. What would be the point? Don’t worry: I’m still terrified of you. You haven’t lost your touch in that regard. It’s just that I see the wonder in you as well as the terror.”

She leaned forward and kissed him gently.

“I thought I was getting a gamer but I ended up with a philosopher as well.”

She disappeared in a blur of super-speed. When she returned, she was wearing a pair of tight black shorts and a crop top with the feared Supergirl ‘S’ emblazoned across her chest. She tossed a black silk robe to him.

Supergirl Emery is glowing after Matt’s impressive oral worship

“Let’s eat,” she said. “Orgasms make me hungry.”

Matt put on the robe. It gave him a modicum of dignity but was short enough to remind him that he was barely more than a plaything to the Supergirl he’d pledged his submission to.

Emery led him to her private dining room, which was surprisingly comfortable. The table was round and just large enough to seat the two of them. Her servants soon arrived with plates of seafood.

“I’m a pescatarian,” said Emery. “I hope you like fish."

"You kill people without hesitation or remorse, but you don't eat meat?"

Emery shrugged.

"I was a pescatarian before I became a Supergirl and I saw no reason to change. The transformation doesn't erase our old personalities, it refines and sharpens them."

Matt tucked into a perfectly cooked fillet of king salmon with a side of the best scalloped potatoes he’d ever had in his life. One of the servants poured an unoaked Chardonnay from the Willamette Valley in Oregon.

"I won Alaska off Rachel in our last poker game so there’s plenty of salmon!”

“Do you get on with Supergirl Rachel,” he asked. “Or is there tension?”

“Rachel’s a peach!” said Emery. “She’s such fun. Oh, she’s doing one of her fights in Seattle next week. I’ll take you.”

Supergirl Rachel ruled the west coast of what had once been the United States. She enjoyed playing different kinds of games to the ones Emery liked. Rachel tormented her subjects by challenging them to contests of strength, speed, and skill that they couldn’t hope to win and punishing them when they inevitably failed.

One of her regular activities was to fight a promising boxer in a televised bout. Over the course of several rounds, Rachel would dismantle the human fighter, reducing him to a sack of broken bones and blood. It was her way of showing the humans in her domain their place. Matt had no desire to watch a goddess slowly beat a man to death, but apparently he had no choice in the matter.

“Hansa, on the other hand…” Emery continued. “She’s never forgiven me for taking this half of Canada from her. It’s not like she ever paid you much attention.”

“We were all relieved about that,” said Matt. “Her hunts are infamous.”

Supergirl Hansa ruled Eastern Canada from her palace in Halifax. She enjoyed setting hundreds of humans loose in the wilds of Quebec with the promise of life and freedom if they reached one of the neighboring provinces. Not one human had managed that feat. Hansa hunted them down with the brutal efficiency all Supergirls possessed. Before Emery had claimed the western half of the country, she had occasionally hunted in British Columbia, but preferred to stay close to home.

“Only three orgasms a year must sound pretty good when the alternative is being hunted for sport,” said Emery.

“Sort of a false dichotomy when you could just as easily not set an orgasm quota and also not hunt humans.”

Emery swiped the tip of his nose.

“Where’s the fun in that? Back at the Pinnacle Lounge you suggested a merit-based system for male orgasms might be more entertaining. Could you elaborate?”

Matt had hoped she’d forgotten his spur of the moment suggestion. He hadn’t figured out how to present the idea in a way that would appeal to Emery while also relaxing restrictions on his fellow males. But she was looking at him expecting an answer, and disappointing her didn’t seem wise.

“Um, yes. So, the flat quota only gives you one variable to change. You can lower it or raise it-“

Emery snorted at the suggestion of raising the quota.

“-but that’s all,” he continued. “A merit-based system gives you a lot more flexibility to tweak and play around. What behaviors do you reward and by how much? Having men compete to be rewarded could provide entertainment for you.”

“Don’t forget the other end of the equation,” said Emery. “Punishment for behaviors I want to discourage. Tell me, what kind of punishments do you think I should levy and why?”

She had skillfully maneuvered him into a position where he had to throw his fellow men under the bus.

“Well, a reduction in their orgasm quota would be the punishment,” he stammered. “If every male starts with three orgasms, they can be judged at the end of the year and lose or gain orgasms based on performance.”

Emery shook her head.

“Too generous by far. How about every male starts with a quota of zero orgasms. They are judged quarterly and given an orgasm for meeting their goals, but the goals become more difficult as the year goes on with fewer and fewer receiving that precious orgasm each quarter. I could tweak the difficulty depending on how generous I’m feeling. And what about those men who fall to earn even one orgasm when the year is over? How should they be punished?”

“Isn’t a year with no release enough?”

Emery’s eyes twinkled with cruel amusement.

“No. They need to suffer for their failure to please me. Permanent chastity at the very least. Perhaps something more… visceral."

“Please, Emery. Don’t do this.”

"Begging already, Matt? I haven't even started the teasing I have planned for you."

She began to stroke his crotch with one bare foot.

"Tell me," she said, "what would you be willing to offer me in return for showing some mercy to your fellow males?"

'I don't have anything left to give," he said. "I pledged myself to you."

"What about all three of your orgasms for the year?" she purred.

He looked her straight in the eyes.

"They're not mine to give, you already own them and every other future release I might have. Whether I ever cum again for the rest of my life is your decision. I'm not going to bargain with you over the fate of male pleasure in your domain because I have nothing to bargain with."

She pouted. "Looks like you figured out my game: the only winning move is not to play."

He finished his salmon and potatoes.

"Is there anything for dessert?" he asked.

"Of course," said Emery. "You're going to need plenty of energy to get through tonight."

"The oral marathon didn't satisfy you?"

Emery laughed.

"The most important thing to know about Supergirls is this: we are never satisfied."

"Oh, that must really suck," he said.

Emery seemed shocked at his response.

"I never thought of it that way, but you're right. We always need more than anyone can give. Our needs can never be fulfilled."

She was quiet and pensive as the servants cleared their plates and brought two large slices of mango cheesecake. They ate in silence. Matt wondered if this would be the last thing he ever ate. Bumming out the woman who held his future in her hands probably wasn't the smartest move.

"Damn good cheesecake," he said.

"Best pastry chef in BC," said Emery. "Used to be the second best, but her predecessor put raisins in a batch of cookies. I hate raisins."

"Noted," he said.

She stroked his chin.

"Don't look so glum, Matt. I can handle the occasional awkward emotional truth. Just don't hit me with them all the time and you'll be fine."

She rose from her chair and took his hand in hers.

"Come on," she said. "Time for round two. Maybe I'll let you cum!"

"Really?"

"No, not really. I'm a good girl: I don't let men cum on the first date."

She led him to her bed and Matt tried to put out of his mind what she'd said earlier about fucking men to death on it. There was no sign of such violence on her ivory silk sheets. She probably had a fresh set every day.

"Remove your robe," she said.

He did as instructed. She smiled to see his cock was hard in anticipation of what was to come. She licked her lips.

"Lay on the bed."

He lay on the cool silk sheets and tried not to think about his blood staining them. Emery undressed in a blur of super-speed. She hovered above him with her clit barely touching the tip of his cock. She lowered herself an inch and began to move in a tight circle, teasing him relentlessly.

"Oh fuck!" he moaned.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Oh, Matt, you’ve been so controlled, keeping yourself denied for ten months as a sad little rebellion against my power. I’m going to crack that self-control and make you beg me to let you cum. You’re going to plead for an orgasm even though you know I’m not going to say yes. Not tonight, not tomorrow, and maybe not for the rest of your life.”

“Nnggh!” was all he could manage in response.

She took him fully inside her and then almost out. Over the next hour, she slowly and tortuously rode him, using her super-senses to detect when he was close to the edge and her super-strong vagina to ensure he didn’t tip over. She seemed more concerned with frustrating him than with chasing her own pleasure, but she still had a couple of gentle orgasms along the way.

Matt was lost in a haze of frustration and pleasure as Emery brought him to the edge over and over. As she had predicted, his self-control crumbled beneath the relentless teasing of her superhuman pussy.

“Please, Emery. I need to cum so bad. Please, I’m begging you.”

“No, nope, non, and negative,” she said.

It became a call and response between them.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

She increased her pace, riding him harder and faster. The edges came so quickly that they blurred into one another- she dragged him across a razor sharp ridge that separated him from orgasm but never let him cross over. Her own orgasms came more frequently. His eardrums rang from her deafening cries of ecstasy.

“Please,” he begged again, during a quiet moment after she'd climaxed.

Emery looked down on him with an evil grin.

“Hey Matt, guess what?”

“What?”

“Surprise!”

She loosened the devilish grip of her vagina and his climax erupted like a volcano. He gasped as pleasure overwhelmed him. Ten months of blue balls were emptied into her in a series of powerful spurts.

“Emery!” he screamed as he came.

She laughed as she squeezed her vaginal walls to milk every last drop out of him.

"That was fucking incredible," he said. "Thank you, Emery."

She stroked his face possessively.

“Ten months of denial can do wonderful things. I won’t make you wait as long for the next one but I will make you wait. The male orgasm is like a fine wine: it needs to be aged before being uncorked.”

Afterwards, they lay in her bed. Matt was on his back and Emery was snuggled on him with her head on his chest. It was so easy to forget that she wasn’t an ordinary woman, but an invincible goddess. He stroked her dark blue hair and marveled that she trembled at his touch in a very un-Supergirl manner.

“I don’t usually let my companions stick around afterwards. If they can’t walk or crawl away, I have them removed by my staff. Why do I like having you next to me like this?”

“What’s going on, Emery?” he asked. “One minute you’re Supergirl Emery, power and dominance incarnate, the next you seem vulnerable and almost human.”

Emery looked at him with a deep sadness in her eyes.

“I should kill you. I should kill you right now because you see me.”

She sighed.

“You’re going to laugh because you’re a human and I’m a Supergirl, because you’re a male and I’m the invincible bitch who decided that your kind are only allowed three orgasms a year. You're also going to laugh because it's comic book level insanity… It’s been a rough year and half.”

“In what way?”

“In ways that challenge everything I thought being a Supergirl meant. When I joined the League, I believed that Supergirls are evil, unstoppable, unkillable goddesses. All lies.”

“What happened?”

“It started with Victoria and Eden. Like most Supergirls, I've no interest in ruling over a dead world, but Victoria and Eden were different. They got tired of being told no and kicked off the apocalypse early.”

“I heard rumors,” said Matt. “There were videos smuggled out of Costa Rica and New Zealand.”

“4 million dead in Central America,” said Emery. “A million in New Zealand.”

“Oh my god. But the League stopped them.”

“The League did fuck all,” snarled Emery. “Kara stopped them on her own.”

“How?”

“She won’t tell us. There was no big fight, there were no bodies. They were just gone. Turns out Supergirls are stoppable if they piss off Kara Lang. Then there’s Isabella.”

“Who?”

“She’s the quote unquote good Supergirl. Wears blue and red, and helps people. A regular superheroine.”

“She’s real? I thought that was an urban legend.”

"She's very real. She retained her human morality. Probably because her mom is also a Supergirl.”

"So not all Supergirls are evil."

"Kara teaches us that our power puts us beyond morality, but Isabella is proof that isn't the case. The darkness inside me is separate to my powers. It's like I was designed to be evil."

"You’re suggesting the Supergirls were created deliberately."

Emery shrugged. "Doesn't it seem that way? One Supergirl a year, every year. Not distributed evenly. There are more Supergirls from Canada than China! That doesn't make any sense unless conscious decisions are being made."

She was right. Nothing about the League of Supergirls made sense as a natural phenomenon.

"I haven't told anyone this," she said, "but something strange happened to me a few months ago. One minute I was playing Supergirl 64 - to see if it was really as bad as everyone said - and the next I was standing in the ruins of a city on a different Earth. It was like I was a toy in one of those grabber machines in the arcade, snatched from the pile and deposited somewhere else. Can you imagine how humbling that was?"

"I've never had power like you," he said, "but there have been times when I realized there's always a bigger fish."

"Kara says we're goddesses, but we're not at the top of the food chain. Shortly after I arrived in the ruined city, another Supergirl appeared. She was a lanky ginger wearing blue and red like Isabella. She blamed me and I blamed her, so we fought for a bit. That didn't get us anywhere.She broke my nose with a mean right hook. After fighting, we tried kissing. That was nicer, but didn't help resolve our dilemma.

Supergirl Emery kissing an unknown Supergirl from another universe

"So, we talked. She came from an Earth in a parallel universe where there are more than 60 Supergirls. All of them are good. Well, mostly good. A few are morally grey, but none of them are evil. Not only do Supergirls not have to be evil, but across the multiverse most of them aren't."

"What happened next?" asked Matt. "How did you get back?"

Emery blushed. "The ginger Supergirl and I started fooling around more seriously, but before anything even PG-13 happened, I was snatched back and returned here. No time had passed. If it hadn't been for my broken nose and my blue ovaries, I would have thought it was a dream."

"So there are other universes."

"Yeah. Go figure. I was still processing that when Katerina went nuts and started killing Supergirls."

Matt was shocked.

"What!?!"

"We kept it quiet, but you won't hear anything about Zoe, Celina, or Katerina from now on. There probably won't be a new Supergirl this year: Katerina iced her before she even got started. Apparently, I was number 7 on her list. If Freja and Chao-Xing hadn't stopped her, you wouldn't have the pleasure of my company tonight."

Matt hugged her tight. "That's more than enough to give anyone an existential crisis, even a Supergirl. Can you talk to any of the others? You said you mentioned me to Supergirl Aisling. Are you close with her?"

"We gossip, we tell each other small secrets, and we hooked up once, but I'm afraid to tell Aisling something like this. Admitting weakness to other Supergirls just isn't done. I can’t talk to a therapist. How can you have an honest therapeutic relationship with someone who's afraid of being disintegrated if they say the wrong thing?"

"What about Isabella? The 'good' Supergirl. Can you talk to her?"

Emery raised her head from his chest and looked at him.

"Huh. I never thought of that. We hung out a couple of times before she transformed - I'm only a few years older than her - and we got along pretty well. She was almost as impressed with my hall of gaming history as you were. Do you think she would want to talk to me?"

"I don't know her, but I think it's worth a shot. If she wants to save people then it would be in her interest to help a traumatized Supergirl heal rather than lash out."

"What if my 'trauma' is the only reason you're still alive, Matt?"

"Then I guess you'll fuck me to death like the others when you're healed. It'll be quite a way to go."

She batted his nose playfully.

"I'll fly down to São Paulo in the morning, after we've had breakfast. While I'm gone, I want you to put together a proposal for a merit-based male orgasm management protocol. Points earned for devotion to me, service to women, work performance, and winning online games. Points deducted for resisting female authority, vandalism,and talking trash online. That kind of thing. Make it so we can target an average number of orgasms per male per year rather than a flat quota."

"What average should I aim for?"

"I'm in a generous mood," said Emery. "Let's say… 4."

Matt had expected a much lower number.

"That's an increase."

"Try not to make it obvious. I don't want Michele to give me an earful at the next League meeting. And let's keep the punishments modest for now: light humiliation, community service, that kind of thing. I want to see if the carrot works before I bring out the stick."

"Are you getting soft on me?" he asked.

"Maybe a little," she purred.

She reached down and cradled his cock, which responded immediately to her touch.

"I can be nice just so long as you don't get soft on me…"