Squatter's Rights 4 (Patreon)

Superman lumbered towards Kory, his hand fumbling with his erection. Hard and stiff, the broad length of his manhood seemed to be pulling him forward more than he was guiding it. He wasn’t even going to take off his costume—for a moment, that panged Kory. She wished, with his beautiful body, that she was skin to skin with him, luxuriating in the sexual experience. But this wasn’t sex, she reminded herself. It was capitulation. She acted only so that the sacrifice of her flesh would pacify him from harming others. However he wanted it, that was fine. She would give him only compliance. She wouldn’t show him the true power of what he could do to a woman—what being a man was all about.

He scurried on top of her, the fabric of his costume feeling rough and harsh on her bare skin, the swollen sensitivity of her nipples. Kory moaned, not in pleasure, but with the crushing weight of his body. Superman did nothing to relieve the feeling of his two-hundred-odd pounds over her body. She closed her eyes and puckered her lips for his kiss. But that didn’t interest him.

Instead she felt his hands awkwardly widening the space between her thighs, his fingers clumsily opening the lips of her vulva. And then the sudden, tactless entry of his member. Deep and hard, he pushed into her. His massive cock thick and swollen, seemingly perfectly suited to the hot, wet confines of her womanhood. Kory groaned, grateful she could get some satisfaction from having him inside her.

Despite everything, his prick felt good. It filled her, even stretched her a little, and she moaned lustfully, her folds squeezing, convulsing, all around his penetration of her. Instinctively Kory’s body responded, making herself as tight a sheath as possible for his weapon, giving him as much pleasure as she could. He had her—not through any merit of his own, but by the whims of fate—she would see if he could handle taking what he’d wanted.

“Do it!” she urged him through clenched teeth—urged him as much as herself. “X’Hal, I want it, make it happen for me!”

His hips jerked up, taking away his bulky member from the molten recesses of her sex. Kory couldn’t help but shudder, knowing that soon he would return with a lunging pump down into her depths.

He gave it to her—not allowing her any of the sweet torture of anticipation that Dick would’ve let her delight in. His cock went deep into the liquid warmth of her trembling slit, offering a little of its own heat… little enough to make her want more. She wrapped her arms around his broad back and held him tightly to her body, denying the necessity of him drawing back again to deliver another thrust. Closing her eyes, Kory silently beseeched X’Hal that somehow, this twist of fate would yet give her what she desired—something of the pleasure she’d learned to expect from Dick, that felt like just recompense for all her suffering and fair exchange for all the love she had to give her mate. She knew all that Superman was getting was her body, but that should still be enough to at least sate her suffering.

What little control Superman had shown before now left him. He was desperate to come. His swollen cock pumped in and out of Kory’s opening. Inwardly, she begged, pleaded of her body to make an ecstasy of his clumsy, uncoordinated thrusts. There was little to his technique but raw power and size, but that seemed like enough—her desires rose with each pistoning his racing rhythm gave her.

Then Superman quaked. His hips drove down, forcing his shaft as deep into her cunt as it could go. He shuddered, the satiation of his need gushing from the tip of his erection, flooding her crowded sex. For a moment, he could only lie there. Then he rolled off her, his limp manhood coming away from her sex in a stretching string of cum that almost immediately broke.

Without a word, Superman put his head back, happily basking in his post-coital contentment. Kory couldn’t share in it. She was shocked that it was over so quickly—that such an overpowering specimen of manhood could somehow fail to give her a fraction of the pleasure her fragile little Nightwing was capable of.

Without the haze of pleasure and anticipation to blind her, Kory’s feelings of being used and vulnerable flooded in. She stared up at the dank darkness of the unpowered building, trying to stem the wash of tears welling in her eyes and wondering if she even should. Perhaps it would shame Superman of his selfishness to see her cry. Perhaps hiding her emotions would only allow him to better ignore what he’d done.

Superman himself seemed to have no idea—no concern—over what he had done or what he would do next. He lingered in his orgasmic relaxation and Kory conceded bitterly that at least his afterglow would further delay him, without her having to do anything to debase herself more than she had already.

For a moment, Kory was cast back in time to her slavery, to the Gordanians. She told herself it wasn’t like that, denying the flood of memories like a dam would hold back a river. She’d chosen to do this. It wasn’t just for someone else’s lust, to sate a need for dominance. This was hers. Something she’d done to protect others. A sacrifice she’d made on behalf of her adopted world.

Other than that, it was simply sex. Unthinking, unsatisfying sex.

***

Dick hated the thought of making light of what Kory’d been through. He hated the part of himself that insisted she was naturally polygamous, from a culture with no conception of monogamy, and so what had happened with Superman was somehow… alright. He would not compare his suffering to hers, though he hated the price she was forced to pay with every fiber of his being.

The only way he could live with it—stop himself from running in there to rip Superman apart with his bare hands—was to occupy his mind, using the time Kory had bought him to figure out a way to bring the Kryptonian down.

But God, was it hard to picture Barbara being willing to do what Kory had done… Barbara with all her humanity… and Kory with her culture that saw so little wrong with violence, with infidelity, with a thousand other things that Dick and his upbringing took for granted.

It happened in a flash—literally. With Superman relaxed, his guard dropped in a sort of awe over the sexual experience he’d just had, Wally moved in and tied the Kryptonian with Donna’s lasso.

He did it as Donna showed him, not merely lassoing Superman, but binding him so he was utterly without leverage. The Olympian rope cut across his mouth and eyes as well, preventing him from using the superpowers located there. Any move Superman made would cause him to throttle himself, but Wonder Girl and Cyborg (what remained of him after his first run-in with Superman) held either end of it anyway, further securing him.

But while they were moving in to apprehend Superman, Wally got one look at Kory and quickly zipped away. A moment later, he reappeared, handing Kory her costume. He then averted his eyes as quickly as any man ever could. He knew Kory was pretty free with her body, but under the circumstances, he didn’t think even Gar would perv out on her. Anyway, he wasn’t such a horndog now as he’d once been—he doubted Linda would want to hear about him gawking at anyone, even someone as fine as Kory.

(And cripes, she and Dick were something like engaged to be engaged, too…)

Dick exchanged a look with Kory. His quiet gaze asked after her condition and the tight nod she gave him said that she was well, or well enough. That she knew he had his job to attend to and that she knew the comfort he longed to give her was coming. She could wait.

Dick was busy coordinating Superman’s transport. Or rather, Gundersen’s transport. The real Superman, in Gundersen’s abandoned body, had told him all about the switch that would need to be reversed before he could relax. Before he could start processing what to do about Kory. He wouldn’t start climbing up that cliff until he had the real Superman safely restored to his Kryptonian body.

Donna called Gar over. After a few quick words, he’d turned into an elephant, replacing Donna’s strength with his weight on the rope. Donna went to Kory—she put an arm around the Tamaranian, careful with her touch on the volatile alien, but Kory seemed limp and drained, almost in shock but for the wary keenness in her eyes. She was not wholly relaxed any more than Dick was; Donna doubted the tension would drain from her for a long time. But she’d do what she could to hurry it along.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you home.”

“But if he breaks loose…?”

“Captain Marvel is on his way. He shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. He’ll make sure Gundersen behaves himself on the way…”

“Gundersen? Is that his name?”

“I’ll tell you on the way,” Donna promised, leading her away. “Do you think you can fly?”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to?” Kory asked. “If I couldn’t fly after sex, my relationship with Nightwing would be much worse off.”

“That wasn’t sex,” Donna told her.

“No, it was a stratagem. Perhaps even a tactical retreat. Not a surrender—but not far from one, either.” Kory looked into Donna’s disbelieving eyes and for the first time, felt some of the closeness she’d shared with Donna evaporate.

She’d considered them sisters. If Komand’r counted as family, then Donna most certainly was, for they were far more intimate. But she thought Donna… a warrior born, or close to it… would understand the ways of battle.

“There are as many indignities visited upon the defeated as there are laurels placed upon a victor,” Kory explained. “Rapine is something any warrior should be prepared for.”

“But it’s not something you can be prepared for,” Donna replied, trying to draw back her arguing… Kory was certainly in no condition for it… but hating Kory’s words so much. “And I know Tamaranians, you would never…”

“We wouldn’t,” Kory agreed firmly, defensiveness over her lost home world springing up. “Not these days… but not all our enemies hold to our ideals, any more than yours do. Perhaps that’s for the best. We Titans fight for what we believe in. If every enemy we fought had true convictions, instead of merely greed for material goods or rage against perceived mistreatment…”

Then she shuddered. Donna held her tightly. She took off, hovering up into the air, and at that prompting, Kory joined her in flight. They flew hand in hand to Titan Tower; it simply felt right.

Donna didn’t think Kory would want to associate her present home with this aftermath, with everyone crowding around her, offering their sympathy. Titan Tower wouldn’t be much better, but it had been destroyed once already. Perhaps if it fell again, as seemed inevitable, the bad memories would be demolished with it.