Lena's Secret update (Patreon)

A bystander might’ve thought that Lena Luthor was tipsy by the way she came out of the restaurant, infected with the giggles, supported by Kara Danvers, clinging to the blonde woman as if trying to pull her off-balance. Kara knew better though. Lena had had her share of wine, but the real relaxant for her was time in Kara’s presence, luxuriating in the warmth and trust that Kara endeavored to surround her with like blankets on a cold day. Lucy and Mon-El might not’ve been Lena’s biggest fans, but they’d been polite and sweet and friendly, clearly trusting Kara’s judgment of her girlfriend, which made for a happy and relaxed Lena.

With a steel hand clinched on Lena’s waist, Kara guided Lena to a cab, and let the brunette nuzzle into her for the car ride back to Lena’s. She caught eyes in the rear-view mirror, the driver looking at them instead of the road. Maybe it was that they were both women. Maybe it was that it was Lena Luthor. Maybe Kara was just that cute. But she was surprised to discover that she didn’t feel out of place or singled out or unnerved by the attention. Lena was a soporific that left her feeling completely at peace.

At her own building, Lena was more dignified, in control, walking stoutly at Kara’s side without missing a step. Literally. It was so infuriating that in the elevator, Kara practically leapt into her arms, snuggling with her. What was it about the nape of Lena’s neck that smelled so good?

“If I say something slutty, you won’t think I’m slutty, right?” she asked Lena—she’d had a glass of cognac herself, and was relaxed enough to let it seep into brain cells that knew better.

“No,” Lena answered. “I just have that effect on women.”

Kara pinched her lips down on Lena’s elegant, tasteful opal earring, pulling on it, then letting it go. “Are there any other games you want to play with me? Like before?”

Lena’s brow knitted—even with Kara, it was hard for her not to choose suspicion as a first response. “Have I really been so well-behaved that I deserve a reward?”

“No, you were awful,” Kara said, chiding her a little with the tease. “I just wanna do something nice for you. My girlfriend.” Her voice became sing-song: “My girlfriend Lena Luthor.”

Lena’s eyes flitted to the floor indicator, worried that the elevator would open up onto the Supreme Court or something. “There is… this fantasy… if you liked the first one,” she said haltingly.

“I liked the first one,” Kara said seriously. “Bring it.”

An awkward, dorky smile peeked out of Lena’s lips. She tried to hide it, play it cool, but Kara kissed it before she could put it away. “Okay!” she bubbled. “You’re a supervillain and you’ve taken ‘Supergirl’ hostage…”

“Which almost never happens in real life,” Kara said. “But go on.”

“You have a costume,” Lena said, rocking on her heels. “A bad girl costume…”

***

‘A costume’ was being somewhat generous. Kara had always thought of costumes as disguising the wearer. The costume Lena had gotten for her didn’t disguise much.

It was like a one-piece bathing suit, only with straps instead of bathing suits. A length of black leather cut between Kara’s buttocks and ran up her pubis, narrow enough to let any circling pilots see the condition of Kara’s runaway. At her belly button, it circled around her waist to form a sort of thong. Then the strap continued up the front of Kara’s body, splitting into a circle again at her breasts to hide her nipples before meeting in the back. Her back was totally bare except for the two horizontal stripes and the one vertical one. So was her front, for that matter. She was a bondage Barbarella, and she had knee-high black patent boots and a cat o’ nine tails. Garters, too. Lena had also insisted that her hair be in a bun and her glasses be swapped for a pair that looked like they belonged to the cold-hearted assassin in a Bond movie.

Kara hadn’t known any female villains to wear this sort of thing, and she for one was glad for it. She’d had to know how her aunt/mother’s bikini body would look.

She stepped out into the main foyer, fidgeting with the whip. She wondered if Lena really expected her to, well, use it.

“Where are my clothes!?” Lena asked. She was wearing her blonde wig and speaking in an impotently forceful voice, while wearing nothing but a long red cape that she pulled around her body. It wasn’t big enough to really cover her, which was no doubt by design. Too bad—there was nothing like whooshing a good-sized cape.

“I think I prefer you without them, Supergirl,” Kara announced imperiously. “Just like I prefer you on your knees.”

Gasping for breath, Lena lowered herself down as if being forced to by some dark power. It kinda impressed Kara how much she got into it. “You’re a beast! I’ll never give into you!”

“I’m not asking you to give into me. Merely to crawl across the floor on your hands and knees.” Kara sat on the back of Lena’s couch, spreading her legs. “Here. Clean me with your tongue. Unless you’d rather scrub the rest of the apartment…”

“If it weren’t for this Kryptonite collar you forced me to wear!”

Kara’s breath left her. As Lena crawled forward, her cape peeling back from her as it dragged across the floor, Kara could see a green collar around her neck, its faint glow visible in the shadows underneath Lena. Kara began to feel it as Lena came closer. It didn’t hurt, but it made her feel both numb and strangely overheated, like pins and needles going all through her body. She took a deep breath. Red sunlight she could take, that just made her human, but Kryptonite would poison her.

“I know I have no choice,” Lena said, coming between Kara’s legs, “but to submit…”

Her tongue licked out and oh! Kara wasn’t numb at all. She was oversensitive, stimulated, and there was a match being struck in slow-motion off her cunt. It felt like the sharp tip of a razor being dragged over her most vulnerable place, but held so carefully that it didn’t even nick her.

“Slowly!” Kara gasped, trying to sound in control as a cold sweat broke out over her body. She couldn’t give herself away—not like this. “Not so… much…”

“You’re a monster,” Lena said. She kissed Kara’s thighs instead, as if gouging herself on that to keep from devouring Kara’s sex. “Making me want you so much… need you so much… then I can barely taste you. Please. Let me…”

Kara dug her fingers into the couch. “Just a little, a little…”

Lena’s tongue again, so light, so shallow, but it was still nearly unbearable. And yet, undeniable. She was just so sensitive, almost in pain, and yet Lena could never be pain. It pushed her so close and it almost destroyed her too.

“Please,” Lena said, her distress seeming all too real. “Let me just, taste…”

Her tongue was like an ice cube where Kara was most feverishly. She touched, stayed touching, eased Kara open—Lena couldn’t think, it was all a confused jumble of no’s and yes’s, too much, too much—tongue burrowing into her, deeper and deeper, where she was most sensitive, too sensitive—it burned inside her. It exploded.

Kara’s panting mouth craned open, stayed open, as she let out a scream and gushed, her pussy screaming too, giving everything to Lena and giving and giving and giving. It was a wrenching experience, it almost destroyed her, it seemed to wash everything out of her, drain her of all her energy, wipe the hardness out of her bones. She slumped over as Lena stared up at her, soaked in her, looking like she’d do anything for Kara.

“You came for me,” Lena almost moaned.

Kara marshalled her wits—she felt sore, aching all over, like those few licks had fucked her as hard as she’d ever taken in. “Lena… I don’t think… that collar seems really disrespectful to Supergirl, really cruel…”

Something twitched inside Kara, broke loose, and she found a reserve of energy she didn’t know she had as she bolted off the couch, scrambling to the nearest waste bin and vomiting into it with the last of her strength. She hung there, feeling like she was trapped in a spinning room with no gravity, just her hold on the waste basket, and she was curled around it in an indifferent universe.

And she was still throbbing inside. So hard it almost hurt.

“Oh my God,” Lena said, backing away, and when she was gone Kara could breathe again. She heard a latch being undone and a box being opened and a lid being closed and then even the memory of her weakness was gone. She was left feeling like she’d woken from a sweaty, overwarm dream.

“The Kryptonite, it…” Lena was saying, a million miles away still, “it affected you, it’s not supposed to affect you, you’re… Kara. You’re a Kryptonian. You’re Supergirl.”

She talked like she was telling Kara something she didn’t know.