Supergirl and the Plastic Prisoners of Amazon Island

by

Tom diCentauri

1966 Jun 30:

Down in the yacht's bilge, in a small forward compartment, Linda Lee Danvers gasped in astonishment. She had not expected what she saw, but then none of the women aboard the yacht Miss B. Haven out of Stanport had expected the storm that now tossed their boat about. The storm had come up suddenly and with an amazing ferocity that the yacht could not long endure. No weather report had forecast any such tempest. Nonetheless, gale-force winds and heavy swells had come out of a clear sky and smooth sea and tossed the small boat like a toy.

Sondra Minderflyss had taken the helm and was trying to steer the boat toward a light that appeared periodically in the distance. When a window in the wheelhouse broke Linda went down to Sondra's cabin to get her transparent-black plastic raincoat and bring it to her. Then Linda had to help Sondra put the raincoat on, standing behind her and holding the smooth plastic sleeves for Sondra to put her hands into them. Reaching around Sondra, Linda brought the upper magnetic patches together to begin closing the raincoat, put up the hood, and brought the patches under Sondra's chin together to hold the hood in place. She had to kneel to finish closing the raincoat and the boat's motion brought her left cheek up against the soft, smooth plastic on Sondra's right buttock and made a strange fluttery warm feeling flow through her.

"Linda, stop kissing my ass!" Sondra said playfully.

"But, I'm not...," Linda started to say. She pulled her head back, but the boat bucked as a wave struck it and Linda found her lips pressed firmly against warm plastic on soft buttock. She felt a pressure in her crotch, but ignored it. "Yes, ma'am," she said as she stood up.

Feigning seasickness then, Linda had gone below decks, leaving her five sisters from the Alpha Lambda Sorority to cope as best they could in controlling the yacht. Knowing that the yacht was too underpowered to face the storm, Linda went into the bilge. There she went to the set of steel ribs closest to the bow, gripped them with her hands, and braced her feet against their aft sides. Standing thus spread-eagled, she looked through the boat's hull and saw bubbles and foam rolling by overhead, following a shiny surface that dipped and rose in an undulating dance. She willed a sensation of weight to press upon her back and the yacht gained forward speed. Her kinesthetic sense was sensitive enough to feel the rotation of the Earth and now she used it with her superstrong flying power to keep the boat reasonably steady, but not steady enough to raise suspicions in the minds of her shipmates.

She heard Fleta Veltergeist in the engine compartment far behind her sweet-talking the twin diesel engines as she strove to keep them running. Acting ship's captain, she was also the chief engineer (and not just because her father owned the boat). Linda also heard Benta Halvorssen muttering in her native Norwegian as she sought out the fault in the wiring that prevented her from using the yacht's searchlight to illuminate the reef for Sondra. And she heard Raghida Linjawi trying to send a distress call over the radio. She heard Raghida's voice with an echo: first she heard the radio transmission and then, a fraction of a second later, she heard the sound of Raghida's voice itself propagating through the boat. She couldn't hear Bonnie Faye Bloomenthal, but knew that Bonnie was moving about the boat securing loose items and watching for any damage that might endanger them.

Now x-ray vision revealed to her that Sondra was steering the boat toward an island; more precisely, she was steering the boat toward a narrow gap in the reef that seemed to rise from an abyss and surrounded the island. That is what had elicited the gasp of astonishment from a girl who was not often surprised: the sheer audacity of the move left Linda in shock. Had the boat not had Supergirl, in her guise as a soft-spoken student at Stanhope College, straining in its bilge it could not have made the passage at all. As it was Linda missed seeing a jagged horn of coral jutting out into the passage.

Cold seawater gushed into the bilge in a wide stream as the coral sliced through the yacht's hull. Soaked and sputtering, Linda pushed the rapidly filling boat forward and beached it with the gash just above where she estimated the high tide line would be. Then she waited for the bilge pumps to clear the water out of the engine compartment.

After a quick shower and a change into dry clothes, she went to the galley where the other five young women had gathered. Fleta, a six-foot blonde that some said looked more like Supergirl than Supergirl did, was querying the others on the status of the boat. Even if her father had not been the owner of the yacht, she would have been a natural leader of the expedition. When she heard Linda's report on the status of the gash in the hull and was satisfied that the boat was in no further danger, she suggested that they all get a good night's sleep in preparation for the next day's challenges.

In her small cabin Linda lay on her bunk and listened to the storm, wondering whence it had come. Suddenly she became aware of a faint rhythmic whooshing sound and focused her superhearing on locating its source. Concerned that the sound represented some danger to the boat, she looked in that direction with her x-ray vision and saw Sondra inflating one of the life-sized Supergirl punching bags that were popular with girls as sparring partners in certain exercise regimens. With shoulder-length chesnut-brown hair and blue eyes, Sondra might have been mistaken for Linda herself but for the spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the fact that she stood a few inches taller. She had just blown the bag full and was sliding it under the covers on her bunk when Linda realized that she was continuing to watch even though she had already determined that the sound had not represented a danger to the boat. She willed her x-ray vision into dormancy just as she caught a glimpse of Sondra snuggling up to the plastic toy under the covers.

ggghhh

Early the next morning, before any of the other women had wakened, Linda got up and took the small pack with her Supergirl costume inside from her locker. She left a note in the galley telling the other women that she had gone up the beach to search for a source of fresh water and would be back before noon. Then she went up onto the boat's deck.

Scattered puffs of white cloud dappled a clear deep blue sky. She heard the soft sigh of wind in the trees accompanied by the faint roar of surf shattering itself into spray on the reef. She heard the lapping of wavelets tumbling over themselves onto the beach and looked out over clear water that showed a blue-green tint. White sand extended up to the verge of a palm forest and stretched away from the boat in both directions as far as eyes unaided by supervision could see. The air was cool and smelled of the sea, with only a faint whiff of diesel fuel and oil to spoil it.

She levitated herself down from the bow of the yacht onto the still-wet sand and went to examine the gash in the boat's hull. Seeing that the damage was something that she could repair easily, she walked lightly up the beach lying to the port side of the beached boat.

Later Linda's five sorority sisters came up on the yacht's upper deck to take stock of their situation. Standing with Fleta and Sondra on the bow were Bonnie, the plump, raven-haired woman who had originally suggested this cruise, red-haired Benta, and swarthy Raghida. Unable to think of anything better to do, they lowered the rope ladder ("How did Linda get down?" Bonnie asked. "Kansheh...uh, maybe she yumped," Benta guessed. "Dumb," Fleta said. "All we need is for her to break a leg.")and climbed down onto the beach. They had just climbed up the beach to the palm tree line when Supergirl fell out of the sky and landed lightly next to them.

"First good news of the day," Raghida commented.

Supergirl greeted the women and inquired as to their trouble. When Fleta and Bonnie had told her what had happened, she told them that she would repair the damage to the yacht and refloat it for them. Then she looked out toward the gap in the reef.

"I see the problem," she said. "I'll take care of that as well."

Then she saw something that gave her pause. While looking through the water with her x-ray vision to confirm the location of the coral snag, she had seen in the side of her vision part of another boat, one lying on the bottom of the lagoon. Searching the lagoon, she found half a dozen boats, all lying in positions that suggested that they had been scuttled. So intent was she in her study of this new mystery that she was startled to hear a remarkable non sequitur.

"They must be making a movie," Fleta said. Supergirl looked to her as she pointed to a dozen young women walking along the beach toward them. All of the women, Supergirl saw, were wearing Greek slave-girl dresses made of a soft white fabric that had a satin-like sheen.

"Must be some really weird science-fiction thing," Bonnie commented and Supergirl understood immediately what she meant.

Each of the women was wearing a calf-length full apron made of glossy transparent plastic that had a faint hazy-white tinge to it. As the women walked their aprons fluttered limply in the breeze.

"Welcome to Nealesvos," the woman in the lead said in a strange accent. Supergirl used her superhearing to listen in on a conversation that several of the islanders were having in low whispers. She didn't understand what they were saying, but many of the words that she could make out sounded Greek. The word "koritsia" come up rather often. So intent was she on trying to determine the women's nationality that she didn't notice their jewelry until Raghida cried out in alarm.

"Supergirl, fly!" she called. "Those women are wearing kryptonite!"

Startled, Supergirl looked again and saw that all of the women wore bracelets and necklaces and one woman also wore a tiara made of the same material. She saw the silver-gray metallic sheen overlain by a green luminescence, but it was too late to escape. Then she noticed that, although she was well within range of the deadly radiation, she did not feel the all-too-familiar burning cold sensation. She did not develop the tremors indicating a loss of muscle control, tremors that would evolve quickly into convulsions. She did not succumb to the overwhelming vertigo that made her unable to apply her fading powers to save herself, that left her effectively paralyzed. She looked yet again and convinced herself that she was indeed seeing honest-to-goodness kryptonite. Yet she felt no ill effect. As if to confirm the fact, she went to the gash in the yacht's steel hull and pulled the metal outward, kneading it slightly with her fingers to stretch it enough to create a narrow overlap. Pushing the metal to bring the overlapping edges into mutual contact, she stared at the spot, brought up a memory of staring into molten steel and both seeing and feeling the thermal radiation that it emitted, and willed the memory to become real. The steel of the yacht's hull glowed and then ran together at the overlap. In a matter of a few heartbeats she had sealed the gash in the boat's hull. Either that's not real kryptonite, she thought, or something on this island has made me immune to its radiation.

The islanders stared in slack-jawed astonishment. After a moment the woman with the tiara embedded in thick black curls approached her. Supergirl saw that she was holding an ornately carved rod made of a hazy-translucent material that was likely some strange kind of wood, though it looked more like hard plastic of the kind used to make chessmen. She seemed to feel a strange warmth emanating from the woman, but assumed that she was merely feeling the woman's body heat against the cooler background of the forest.

"I am Hyppolyte," the woman said. She stood easily six feet tall, obliging five-foot-five-inch Supergirl to look up to her to look into her pale blue eyes. "I am queen of this island domain, Commander of the Amazons." She was wielding the rod as if it were a symbol of her rank.

Before Supergirl could reply Hyppolyte reached out, as if bestowing a blessing, and touched the tip of her rod to the side of Supergirl's neck. Suddenly Supergirl felt her consciousness go hazy and she went into a kind of daze, even though she could see and hear clearly all that was going on around her.

"Don't move," Hyppolyte said quietly. "From now on you will do only what is necessary to carry out my commands. Do you understand completely?"

"Yes, I do," Supergirl replied. Inside she was astonished that she had made the reply without showing any zombie-like slowness. She had replied in a perfectly normal manner of speech. "I am your slave and I must do whatever you want of me," she added.

In only a few minutes Hyppolyte and her companions had enslaved the other five women. Under Hyppolyte's command, the Amazons and their captives boarded the yacht. The islanders worked quickly, each taking a woman to her cabin and compelling her to put her plastic raincoat and her shower cap into a velvet bag. Sondra was made to add her deflated Supergirl punching bag to the collection. The two plastic aprons in the galley were also added to the mix.

"There is a cabin for one other girl," the woman named Ariadne said when they had all gathered in the salon. She held up Linda's transparent-blue plastic Stormette^® raincoat and her Pert and Pretty^® shower cap.

"Where is she?" Hyppolyte asked her prisoners.

"She went to look for fresh water," five voices said.

"I'm right here," Supergirl said to her own horror.

Hyppolyte looked from Supergirl to her other captives and back again in puzzlement. Then to Supergirl she said, "Explain why they answered differently from you."

"They don't know that I'm Linda," Supergirl explained. "I wear a brunette wig and different clothes so that no one will know my secret identity."

"Well, we know now." Fleta said. "Perhaps if we had known before, you could have done a little more for us and kept us off this island?"

"I don't think so," Sondra said. "This island was the closest land, the easiest save as far as I could see. And there's no way she could have anticipated this happening to us."

In astonishment, looking at Supergirl's almost boyish figure with its A-cup breasts, Benta slipped back into her native Norwegian. "Men Leenda har...," she said and then completed the statement by making downward curving motions with both hands over her own D-cups.

"Padded bra," Supergirl said.

"Yaso?" Benta said. "Vell, ja, dat makes sense. Who vould suspect?"

"Enough!" Hyppolyte said. "Come with me, all of you!"

With Hyppolyte in the lead and Supergirl carrying the bag full of plastic, they left the yacht and walked back up the beach in the direction whence the Amazons had come. They didn't walk far before they came to a place where a little stream came out of the forest, crossed the beach, and emptied its water into the surf. Hyppolyte led her charges inland, on a trail paved with flat-topped stones that paralleled the creek. In mere minutes they came to a village that seemed to consist almost entirely of bungalows.

Supergirl looked inside one of the houses and saw that it was laid out on a simple plan. The front half was one room, and the rear half was divided evenly into a bedroom and a bathroom. In the bedroom she saw a woman wearing only a plastic shower cap sitting on the bed and gazing into space with a bemused expression on her face. Not wanting to violate the woman's privacy, Supergirl averted her wall-penetrating gaze. Suddenly she realized that she had just taken some initiative, but then she understood that she had done nothing that violated any of Hyppolyte's commands. "So, I'll just turn around and go back to the boat," she thought, but she found that she couldn't.

She saw on top of a hill that overlooked the village a building that looked like a Greek temple. Closer inspection via supervision revealed that it was not actually a temple, at least not like any Greek temple she knew about: it didn't have walls. The columns held the roof over an empty space in the middle of which a ten-foot tall pale violet flame twisted and pulsated in a slow-motion dance to some inaudible fugue.

"That," Hyppolyte said in the manner of delivering a lecture, "is the Artemision, the moon house. The spirit of cold-hearted Artemis dwells therein."

"Why is it called 'the moon house'?" Fleta asked.

"The moon is our mistress," Hyppolyte replied. "She creates the music to which our blood dances. Surely your people know who ordained our monthly bloodfall!"

Uncertain of how to answer, Supergirl and her friends looked at each other and shook their heads.

Passing deeper into the village, they came to a meadow that appeared to serve as a plaza. On the opposite, inland side of the meadow Supergirl saw two large buildings, perhaps one hundred yards apart with the creek passing between them. The building on the right had a wide colonnaded front and the front hall, filled with tables and benches, looked in x-ray vision to be large enough to hold several hundred people. Before she could examine the chamber behind that front hall, Supergirl's attention was drawn to Hyppolyte again.

"There," Hyppolyte said, pointing to the building that Supergirl had been examining, "stands the Hestion. It is where we take our meals and obtain the things that we need to pursue the Good Life." Yes, Supergirl actually heard the upper-case letters in Hyppolyte's voice.

"And there," Hyppolyte continued, pointing to the building on the left, "stands the Athenaeum. It is the place where rightness dwells. We go there now."

The Athenaeum, Supergirl saw, had a deep porch that spanned the full width of the front of the building. She noticed other women in slave-girl dresses and plastic aprons standing there and others sitting in backless chairs or on inflated green plastic hassocks. In front of the building on the side to their right she saw a kind of lean-to shading a raised platform that had steps leading up to it; a kind of speaker's dais she guessed.

"Artemis, Hestia, Athena," Raghida said quietly. "Those were Greek goddesses and they were all virgins. They detested men."

"So did the classical Amazons," Supergirl commented. She noticed that their guards seemed unconcerned with their talking together. "You're the psych major. Any thoughts on why these women are playing at being Amazons?"

"Not a clue," Raghida said.

Hyppolyte led the women across the porch and through an arched doorway. Inside the building, in a foyer that was as wide as the building, they confronted a statue of a giant woman wearing a helmet and holding a shield and a spear. Hyppolyte led her escort and prisoners to the right, around the statue, and into a hallway that ran along the side of the building. Partway down the hall they came to a door that one member of the escort opened and they went into a large room furnished with backless chairs. The room overlooked the building's central courtyard through large glass windows.

"The Ancient Greeks didn't use glass in their windows," Raghida commented. "This whole setup is phony."

"This is my judgement chamber," Hyppolyte said. "In here you will not speak unless invited to do so."

Supergirl thought of a question that she wanted to ask but found that, although she could open her mouth, she could not make sound come from it.

"You have been brought here to be judged," Hyppolyte went on. "I will decide your fate."

The girl Thalia took Sondra's Supergirl punching bag out of the velvet treasure bag and began to inflate it while her companion, Daphne, spoke to Hyppolyte in their native language. Hyppolyte said something in response and nodded.

Daphne confronted Sondra and pointed to the punching bag. "Tell us how you use that!" she commanded.

Sondra blushed, glanced at Supergirl, then bowed her head in shame. "I like to take it to bed with me and kiss and hug it," she said.

"And...," Daphne prompted.

Sondra began to cry. "I masturbate with it."

"Mas-tur-bate?" Daphne said. "I do not understand that word. Show us what it means!"

"No, please," Sondra sobbed. She undressed herself and cried out, "Please, tell me to stop." She lay herself down on the floor on her back, took the now fully inflated punching bag from Thalia, and brought it down between her legs, holding it with the image of Supergirl on its front was facing her. Crying and begging the strange women to stop her, she embraced the bag with her left arm, put her right hand between her legs, and began to rub herself. Her sobs turned to moans as she came aroused and then climaxed. She resumed sobbing in earnest when she had finished and allowed the punching bag to bounce upright.

Hyppolyte got up from her chair and went to examine the punching bag, poking it experimentally and watching it wobble. She beckoned to Supergirl and pointed to the bag.

"Can you move like that?" she asked as Supergirl came to her.

"Yes, I can," Supergirl replied. She demonstrated by used her levitation to bounce and wobble like a bottom-weighted plastic balloon.

"Good," Hyppolyte said. Then she spoke to Thalia and Daphne in their own language.

Daphne commanded Sondra to get up and Thalia picked up the punching bag. With Thalia in the lead, pausing only to retrieve Sondra's raincoat and shower cap from the treasure bag, they left the room, Daphne slapping crying Sondra's buttocks as they went out the door.

Next Ariadne commanded Fleta to take off her clothes and then take her plastic things from the bag that Supergirl had brought. With Fleta then standing passively, holding her transparent-gray plastic raincoat and transparent-white plastic beret-style shower cap, Ariadne inspected her, patting and prodding her. Then she led her out of the room.

Raghida was next. The woman named Ethne commanded her to strip. When she was naked Raghida was then ordered to retrieve her personal plastic from the bag. Her raincoat was an Arab woman's abaya rendered in soft, smooth, transparent-black plastic, with the brand name RainChador. Her shower cap was also a simple plastic beret, this one made of transparent-black plastic with a black rubber band. Raghida also claimed one of the aprons, the full apron with the wide, calf-length skirt that was made of transparent-green plastic with floral patterns printed on it. Ethne led Raghida out of the room.

Bonnie Faye was claimed by the woman Hyppolyte had addressed as Penelope. Stripped naked, she too was examined like a piece of livestock and then commanded to claim her plastic. She took from the bag her raincoat made of transparent-white plastic that had opaque-white starburst patterns printed on it. Her shower cap was a Charlotte-Corday-style cap made of almost opaque-white plastic that had pink cherry blossoms printed on it and a pink rubber band. She also claimed the other apron, which was an ankle-length full apron made of ultra-soft, rubbery-smooth, opaque-blue plastic that had a yellow tie and Supergirl's ess-on-a-shield emblem printed on the bib in opaque red and yellow.

After Penelope led Bonnie from the room, Benta simply undressed herself and retrieved her plastic without being commanded to do so. She took from the bag her raincoat made of transparent-red plastic that was so soft that it draped limply over her hand. Her shower cap was the classic beret style rendered in simple transparent-white plastic with a white rubber band. The remaining woman from Hyppolyte's brigade, who's name Supergirl had not heard, punched Benta in the belly before leading her from the room.

Shortly all of the women who had accompanied Hyppolyte to the yacht returned to her chambers to confront Supergirl. They all took seats in the chairs around the room while Supergirl stood in the middle of the room facing Hyppolyte's chair. Supergirl felt a strange quivering in her belly. The queen lounged in her chair and looked her over.

"We have heard of the mighty Supergirl," Hyppolyte said, "but we could never compel ourselves to believe. But you are, indeed, real and now we get to see how well you can serve us as a toy!" She got up out of her chair, took a step toward Supergirl, and punched her lips.

Using her superpowers, Supergirl pulled back from the blow so that Hyppolyte would not hurt her hand and tilted over backward. Then, just before she hit the floor, she used her levitating ability to throw herself back upright, as if begging Hyppolyte to punch her again.

Hyppolyte complied with the implicit request and spent several minutes punching and jabbing Supergirl, who simply bounced back for more. When Hyppolyte tired of the sport the other women took their turns at using Supergirl for a punching bag. Of course, the punches didn't hurt, but they seemed to have a effect nonetheless. Supergirl felt a strange warmth suffuse her body and a pressure in her crotch. She was mortified to feel her clitoris growing and sliding forward in its sheath.

After a time Hyppolyte commanded Supergirl to take off all of her clothes. When she complied with the command the women all commented on how prominent her clitoris had become as a result of the special attention that she has been getting and commanded her to make it bigger. Supergirl blushed as she felt her clitoris grow even more, to the women's obvious delight.

But it wasn't only the women's commands that were arousing her passion. To be played with by women so strong and masterful seemed to arouse feelings that were perhaps related to lust, but she wasn't sure. All she knew was that when the women began to use her as a punching bag she had felt like she wanted to be Sondra's punching bag, to be held and loved.

Then Daphne approached her holding a calf-length serving apron made of transparent-white plastic that had Greek lettering in opaque red printed on it and an opaque-red ruffle and tie. She couldn't read Greek, but Supergirl had no doubt that the words translated into "punch me!". Daphne tied the apron around her waist and then resumed punching her.

At length the women tired of their sparring and allowed Supergirl to wobble to a stop, standing at attention before her captress. Hyppolyte gave a command in her own language and the women left. Then the Amazon queen got out of her chair and looked her prize over, poking and prodding her.

When the women of Hyppolyte's brigade returned a few minutes later, they were leading Linda's companions. Supergirl saw that each woman was wearing her shower cap and her raincoat and that Bonnie and Raghida were also wearing their aprons. She also noticed that each woman had on her neck, one inch below and one inch behind her left ear, an inch-and-a-half wide aureole from the center of which a translucent-white tube half an inch long and a quarter inch wide protruded. The women were also shackled with the most ridiculous restraints Supergirl had ever seen.

They looked like they had begun as sash belts for transparent-black plastic raincoats, belts made by doubling over a length of transparent-black plastic film and welding it to form an inch-wide strip. The shackles themselves had been made by taking such a strip two and a half feet long and welding an eighteen-inch strip to each end at a right angle to it. Each of the eighteen-inch strips had an extra six inches overlapping each end and soft rubber magnetic patches had been attached inside each of those six-inch end pieces.

To trap their prisoners the women had simply peeled back the six-inch end pieces, wrapped one side one way around a wrist or ankle and then wrapped the other side the other way 'round. The magnetic patches clasped each other, enabling the plastic band to grip the prisoner. Thus had Linda's companions been bound hand and foot, as if they were slaves being taken to auction.

Surely, she thought, those belts can't restrain a grown woman. She was pleased to see that Fleta had apparently entertained the same thought and was trying to break her bonds. Fleta had braced her hands on her thighs and was trying to force her wrists apart to break the bonds. She was failing utterly. What disturbed Supergirl most, though, was seeing one of the Amazons noticing what Fleta was doing and showing not the slightest concern, as if she knew that the effort was futile.

Then Supergirl noticed something else. Through the transparent-gray plastic of Fleta's raincoat she saw Fleta's clitoris jutting between her legs. She then saw that the other women were also sexually aroused, though she had to use her x-ray vision to check out Bonnie and Raghida.

A strange suspicion came to her and her supervision confirmed the horrible truth: her companions had been transformed into inflated plastic dolls. But they were still very much alive. From across the room she could even feel the warmth of their bodies.

Now Daphne and Thalia came back into the room, shoving Sondra before them. She had been transformed like the other women, but instead of her raincoat, that beautiful transparent-black plastic raincoat that Linda had almost fallen in love with, she was wearing a calf-length nightie made of transparent-pink plastic that had the Greek letter pi printed on it in robin's egg blue. Daphne confirmed Supergirl's horrible discovery by picking Sondra up and tossing her toward on of the tall windows overlooking the courtyard. Sondra bounced like a beach ball and fell to the floor at Benta's feet, where she crouched in a fetal curl.

Thalia handed Hyppolyte an ornately-carved doubly tapered cylinder. Six inches long and three inches wide at its widest point, it was made of a translucent-red-orange material that seemed to glow and sparkle at one end. Holding the stubby wand, Hyppolyte stood up to address her captives.

"Slave Sondra will stand up," she said.

Slowly Sondra obeyed, keeping her head bowed, unable to look at Supergirl.

"Slow means weak," Hyppolyte said. "But what else can we expect from women who submit themselves to men?" Her lips curled in disdain as she pronounced the last word. "Behold the slave dress that she wears. It marks her as the public property of the Island of Nealesvos. The letter pi stands for pornisakoula. In your words it means 'whore-bag'. Soon she will be taken to learn how to serve the pleasure of her many mistresses. Look upon her and feel fortunate. This afternoon you will be sold to women who will claim you as their personal property. Each of you will have, at most, two mistresses to please." She made a gesture to Daphne and Thalia.

"Come with us," Thalia said to Sondra.

Sondra began to collapse, but Thalia grabbed her from behind, holding her by her biceps. Daphne then punched her in the belly. Then the two Amazons carried Sondra out of the room.

"And now," Hyppolyte said as she brandished her wand, "it's time for the invincible Supergirl to join our inventory. Take off your apron, dearie!" she said to Supergirl.

Helplessly, Supergirl obeyed.

Hyppolyte went to a wooden chest and took from it a red velvet bag and another set of plastic shackles.

"Put on your shower cap!" the witch commanded.

Supergirl opened the treasure bag and took out her shower cap. It was a simple dollar-ninety-eight plastic shower cap, nothing fancy. It was made of a disc of almost clear transparent-white plastic film on which opaque silver and white stars had been printed in a tiara pattern ("Oh, you're going to be our plastic princess, are you?" Hyppolyte commented when she saw it). A white rubber band had been wrapped around the rim of the disc and attached with expansion stitches. The result was a simple beret-style that Linda wore to keep her hair (actually her wig) dry when she bathed. She slipped the cap over her blond hair, expertly tucking the few stray wisps under the rubber band, and waited for the next command.

"Get hot!" Hyppolyte commanded.

Supergirl felt the strange warmth suffuse her body again. She felt pressure growing in her crotch, felt her clitoris growing and sliding forward in its sheath. She felt a soft prickling in her nipples as her breasts began to feel tight.

"When you are fully aroused," Hyppolyte commanded, "puff out your belly for me!"

Supergirl tried to fight the commands, tried to think of things that would quench the fire of lust burning hot inside her. She quivered inside, felt as if butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. Slowly she seemed to be winning.

"Here, let me help you," Hyppolyte said. She went to stand by the other women, put her left arm around Fleta's shoulders and with her right hand began to fondle Fleta's large breasts. "Wouldn't you like to get into bed with this friend of yours? Can you imagine what she would feel like?"

Supergirl could indeed imagine, but what made her surrender was the realization that Hyppolyte would humiliate each of her friends until she complied with the commands she had been given. She allowed sexual heat to fill her completely, then took a deep breath and puffed out her belly.

"Excellent!" Hyppolyte enthused. She went behind Supergirl and an instant later Supergirl felt something touch the back of her neck, just below and behind her left ear.

Suddenly she felt as if she had been kicked from the inside and she heard a rubbery whump echo in the room. But she also noticed that the daze that had come over her when Hyppolyte first enslaved her was gone, that she was free. With a superspeed attack she should be able to overcome the Amazons and free her friends. She lunged for her costume and was yanked off her feet by a powerful hand gripping her left bicep.

"I did not give you permission to move," Hyppolyte said. "Oh, I see," she said as comprehension dawned. "You thought that you could rescue yourself and your friends simply because the enslaving spell is gone. That is not an unreasonable guess. But now know this, Supergirl: like your friends, you are now an inflated plastic doll. You are completely helpless. You will be a slave. For the things you are commanded to do you will have the strength of a small child; in all other matters you will have no strength at all." She took from the treasure bag Supergirl's transparent-blue plastic raincoat and offered it to her.

"Put this on!" she commanded.

Supergirl took the proffered raincoat and put it on, allowing the magnetic patches on its placket to close. She left the hood draped over her back. She felt good about putting on the soft, smooth plastic and not just because she preferred not to be completely naked; after all, the transparent plastic hid nothing. It was just that the plastic felt so darned good on her skin, almost erotic in its warm sensuality.

While Supergirl put on her raincoat, Hyppolyte turned her attention to her costume. She laid the costume itself, the blue minidress with its yellow belt, onto a chair, slipped the cuff of one sleeve into the cuff of the other, and touched the emblem with the sparkling end of her stubby wand. Immediately the costume turned into a transparent-blue plastic apron, the sleeves becoming the yoke and the belt becoming the tie.

"Put this on!" Hyppolyte commanded as she pointed to the apron.

Supergirl put up the hood of her raincoat so that she could slip the apron's yoke over it. She tied the tie in a neat bow behind her back and then stood with her head bowed, idly playing with the inch-and-a-half wide ruffle that ran around the calf-length skirt. Her cheeks burned with humiliation and she barely paid attention as Hyppolyte put her boots and panties onto the lower end of her cape, folded the cape over, and touched her wand to the center of the emblem on its back. She heard a soft whump and saw that the cape had been turned into smooth, opaque-red plastic.

Hyppolyte put the transformed cape into the red velvet bag and put the "punch me" apron in with it. Then she picked up the shackles and approached Supergirl.

"Now," she said, "I'm going to test you for obedience."

She peeled apart one end of the shackles, took Supergirl's right wrist in hand, and wrapped the plastic bindings around it. Supergirl felt the soft smooth plastic grip her wrist tightly and knew that she would not be able to remove it herself. Hyppolyte peeled apart the bindings on the opposite side of the belt and held them open. After an instant's hesitation, Supergirl put her left wrist into the gap and submitted to Hyppolyte binding it as well.

Next Hyppolyte knelt before Supergirl and bound her ankles with the belt at the opposite end of the shackles. Supergirl had bowed her head, her cheeks burning with shame, and now she saw Hyppolyte's large, firm breasts exposed and became more deeply aware of her own aroused lust. When Hyppolyte stood up she displayed Supergirl to the other women. Being thus trapped in a soft parody of shackles only deepened Supergirl's humiliation.

"Now," Hyppolyte said, "you are to be sold at auction this afternoon. You will wait here for the slave-seller to come for you. When she enters the room, you will stand for her and you will submit to her." With that said, she picked up the transformer wand and left.

Supergirl knew that the effort would be futile, but she tried anyway to break out of her shackles. When that failed, she tried to help Fleta break out of hers. The other three women joined in to help. Of course, none of them had any idea of what they could do once they freed themselves, so it's just as well that they failed. With their hands bound and dreamy-eyed bemused expressions frozen on their faces, the women were unable to communicate in any meaningful way, so they sat and waited.

Some hours later a woman wearing a green dress and a transparent-green plastic apron came into the room carrying a fistful of what looked like more shackles. Remembering their instructions, the women stood up and waited for instructions.

The woman said nothing, but merely tossed the belts she carried onto chair, then picked one and peeled one end apart. She wrapped it around Raghida's neck, then peeled apart the opposite end and wrapped it around Benta's neck. The next belt she used to bind Benta to Bonnie, then she bound Bonnie to Fleta. Finally, she bound Supergirl to Fleta and took the last belt, wrapped one end around Raghida's neck, and held the other end as a leash. She picked up the red velvet bag and then towed the five plastic women out of Hyppolyte's chambers, down the hall, and out of the building.

She turned left and Supergirl saw dozens of women and teenaged girls gathered on the meadow. The slave-seller was taking them toward what she had thought was a speaker's platform and she knew that she had been wrong: it was actually an auction block and she and her friends were being put up on it for sale.

The slave-seller positioned the women on the block, set them standing at the rear of the platform. She then removed the leash from Raghida, removed the belt connecting her to Benta, and then pushed Raghida to the front of the platform. She began speaking in rapid-fire Greek (by now Supergirl was certain it was Greek), pointing and gesturing.

The crowd responded enthusiastically. Women called out to the slave-seller and it seemed to Supergirl that the bidding was thick and furious. After several minutes the crowd grew quiet. The slave-seller clapped her hands. Silence. She clapped her hands again. Silence. She clapped her hands a third time, then pointed to a woman in the crowd, called her name, and then picked Raghida up and tossed her like a beach ball to the woman who had just bought her.

Benta was sold next. Proud descendant of Vikings, she stood with her hands clenched in fists. Nonetheless, she was sold and tossed lightly to her new owner.

Bonnie swayed as if she were ready to faint. And when she was sold, she did collapse. The slave-seller simply picked her up and tossed her into the crowd to meet the woman who had bought her.

Fleta stood tall and proud, with fists clenched. The bidding for her seemed more frenetic and lasted longer than the bidding for the other women. But eventually Supergirl heard the third clap that sealed Fleta's doom and felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as she watched Fleta arc out over the meadow to her new owner.

Supergirl stood next to the red velvet bag at the front of the auction block, the last to be sold. But as the bidding began, it had a different feel to it. It seemed as if the bidders lacked enthusiasm for the merchandise. Supergirl felt almost insulted. Then she saw Hyppolyte near the front of the crowd, saw that she was bidding, and knew what her fate would be. After hearing the third clap, she was not surprised to hear the slave-seller call out Hyppolyte's name.

The slave-seller picked up the red velvet bag and tossed it to Hyppolyte. Before the slave-seller could grab her, Supergirl took a step to her right, crouched down, and leaped at Hyppolyte.

Startled, the Amazon queen reached up and caught Supergirl. Giving her a quizzical look, she said, "Well, you are a prize, aren't you?"

Supergirl nodded.

The sun was just going down as the women all began to move toward the Hestion. Inside the front hall tables had been set up and were being piled with food. Hyppolyte sat on her throne overlooking the hall and took her dinner on a small table set up next to it. Supergirl stood passively next to her and tried to see if she could spot any of her friends in the crowd. She saw no familiar faces at all.

After the women had eaten and Hyppolyte had presided over a kind of lottery, the party broke up and the women began leaving the hall. Hyppolyte picked up the red velvet bag and told Supergirl to come with her, and she, too, left the hall. She led Supergirl across the meadow, over a little stone bridge over the creek, and to a bungalow on the opposite side of the meadow from the Athenaeum. She escorted Supergirl inside and to the bedroom.

Supergirl began to feel quivery inside again. Hyppolyte took off her soft shackles and told her to take off her raincoat and apron. She took from a small wooden chest mounted on a stand by her bed another eighteen-inch black plastic belt and peeled apart one of the ends. Supergirl submitted to having her hands bound behind her with what she thought of as a pair of soft transparent-black plastic handcuffs

Then the witch queen brought the "punch me" apron and the bright red plastic whatever that she had made of Supergirl's cape and boots out of the red velvet bag with a soft swish of plastic sliding over plastic and set them on the floor in front of her prisoner. She rearranged the red plastic and Supergirl saw that it was some kind of skirt. Hyppolyte pointed to it and told her to stand in its center. As she complied, Supergirl felt a rounded rubbery surface under her feet that she assumed had been made from her boots. Hyppolyte slid the skirt up around Supergirl's waist and Supergirl saw the yellow-and-black emblem was right in front of her crotch. She also saw that an inch-and-a-half wide aureole of raised plastic at the center of the emblem had a translucent-white tube, half an inch long and a quarter inch wide, protruding from its center.

Hyppolyte went to a box on the floor under a window and uncoiled a long, thin gray rubber tube. She touched a raised patch on the box and the box began to sigh. Then Hyppolyte came to Supergirl, took the tube protruding from her skirt between thumb and forefinger, and pushed the little hose into it.

Supergirl felt the skirt begin to inflate. Hyppolyte gazed off into space as the hose she held blew up her new toy. Supergirl saw the outer part of the skirt smooth out and grow round and she felt the inner part of the double-walled skirt slide between her legs and press against her clitoris. When the skirt had been blown full, Hyppolyte tested it by patting it with one hand while holding the tube with her other. Satisfied, she pulled the hose out of the tube with a soft pop and dropped it. The hose writhed on the floor until Hyppolyte touched the raised patch on the box again.

Next Hyppolyte tied the "punch me" apron around Supergirl's waist. She took off her kryptonite jewelry, her tiara and bracelets, and put them on a table near her bed. Then she took off her apron and her dress and tossed them onto the chair with Supergirl's raincoat and apron. Completely naked, she stood with her hands on her hips and looked her prisoner over.

"So this is the powerful Supergirl," the witch queen sneered as she examined her handiwork. With a quick movement she punched her fist deep into Supergirl's belly and watched her plastic toy bounce lightly off it with a soft rubbery thump.

The punch didn't hurt, but Supergirl felt her entire body jolted by it. She tilted over backward, almost hitting the floor. Then she felt smooth taut plastic pressing against her buttocks and the backs of her legs, throwing her back up at her captress. The weight in the base of her inflated skirt bounced her smartly upright, as if she were eager to be punched again. And Hyppolyte did punch her again. And again. And again. Every time Hyppolyte punched her, Supergirl felt her soft blond hair jounce and swish inside her shower cap.

Every punch rubbed the plastic of her skirt against her clitoris. The soft, rubbery-smooth plastic was warm from contact with her and it was masturbating her. Worse, the sight of Hyppolyte, her large, firm breasts, her warm, translucent, rubbery skin, was arousing her again. She felt the pressure in her crotch growing.

"Ah," Hyppolyte crooned, "this bouncing skirt makes a fine punching bag out of you. But you are not resisting. Not trying to escape. Not feeling so supergirlish, are you? Or do you enjoy being my plastic prisoner?" She stepped forward, looming over Supergirl, and delivered a rain of punches that prevented Supergirl from coming fully upright. Then she stepped back and resumed bopping Supergirl in a rhythm that looked to Supergirl like some kind of weird exercise regimen.

Supergirl had little time to contemplate her observation. She climaxed, bucking and squirming as the plastic continued to rub her clitoris.

"Now, that's better," Hyppolyte said. "Show me how weak and helpless you are. Go ahead, struggle all you want! Every time I punch you I want to see what a powerless pushover you are!"

Looking at Hyppolyte gloating over her, Supergirl felt a surge of heat within her that made her climax all the harder. Seeing this powerful woman dominating her so easily, humiliating her, was somehow making her feel sexy.

Soon, though, Hyppolyte stopped pounding her plastic princess. From the little wooden chest by her bed she took a short tube that had a flange around its middle. Tenderly she pushed it into the little tube in the front of Supergirl's bouncing skirt and air began to blow through it. Supergirl felt the skirt soften and begin to go limp as it deflated.

Next Hyppolyte removed the plastic handcuffs and tossed them onto the chair with Supergirl's shackles. Then she untied the "punch me" apron and let it drop to the floor. She started to pull the skirt down and then motioned for Supergirl to finish the job and watched as Supergirl stepped out of the skirt and stood trembling before her.

"Get into bed!" Hyppolyte told her.

Supergirl looked at the double bed, saw the pillow with the plastic pillowcase on the right side, and went to that side to get under the covers. It was an act of futility, she knew, but she lay herself on her left side, facing away from Hyppolyte's side of the bed. She felt all fluttery inside. The light went off, leaving only the moonlight spilling through the windows to illuminate the room. She felt the bed move and heard the soft rustle of the covers as Hyppolyte lay herself down. For a long moment only stillness and silence came to her senses.

Then she felt the bed move again as Hyppolyte slid over to get close to her. She heard Hyppolyte's breathing deepen and accelerate. She felt Hyppolyte's left hand grab her left bicep and then Hyppolyte's right hand took Supergirl's right arm and pulled her over to lie on her back.

"No, please," Supergirl begged, but Hyppolyte couldn't hear. Supergirl felt herself trembling inside.

Hyppolyte half rolled, half lifted herself on top of her prisoner, sliding her right leg between Supergirl's thighs as she mounted her hapless slave-girl.

Supergirl felt Hyppolyte's breasts press hot on her chest, felt Hyppolyte's belly push warm and firm against hers in rhythm with her breathing, and felt Hyppolyte's soft, smooth skin rub warmly against her plastic. She felt Hyppolyte's hot breath in her face and in the dim light she could see Hyppolyte looming over her and gazing dreamily into her eyes.

"Now, mighty Supergirl," Hyppolyte said in a quavery voice, lingering lovingly over each word, "you are my plastic prisoner. Now superheroine, you are my weak inflatable slave. You are my helpless bouncy balloon doll. You are my soft, warm blowup toy." As Hyppolyte gloated, her clitoris grew and poked into Supergirl's right thigh.

"Oh, no, please," Supergirl continued to plead. But she soon became aware of the pressure in her own clitoris, felt it growing, and trembled. Were it not for a few minor moral flaws, Hyppolyte would be an attractive woman: beautiful and strong, she would have made Supergirl feel a sublime desire. Now, though, with Hyppolyte on top of her, coming fully aroused, Supergirl began to feel aroused as well. Part of her mind watched and felt a warm yearning for the fulfillment that this woman could offer and part watched in horror at what Hyppolyte was doing to her, both directly and indirectly.

Grabbing Supergirl's right buttock with her right hand, Hyppolyte began thrusting with her hips to slide her clitoris on the now slick plastic of Supergirl's thigh. "Oh, mighty Supergirl," she said, "know that I am your mistress and that you are my toy." She began to grunt with each thrust.

Now fully aroused as well, Supergirl realized that for all her motion, Hyppolyte was not touching her clitoris. The taller woman wasn't lying on her correctly. She tried to use her hands, but she was so caught in Hyppolyte's embrace that she couldn't reach between her legs.

Soon Hyppolyte let out a short series of desperate groans as she climaxed. She squeezed Supergirl so hard that Supergirl was afraid that she might pop. Then she let out a mighty sigh, went limp, and went to sleep on Supergirl.

Hours later Hyppolyte rolled off Supergirl to lie on her own side of the bed. Her deep breathing let Supergirl know that she was asleep, so Supergirl drifted into sleep as well.

She came awake with a start and immediately noticed the green glow reflected from the walls and ceiling of the room. Frightened, she tried to flee the room at superspeed, but found that she was trapped by the bedcovers. Then she came fully aware, remembered her situation and relaxed. The glow was from Hyppolyte's kryptonite jewelry and so far had been harmless to her.

Lying on her back, she tried to think of the possibility of escape. She wasn't even sure that her transformation into a living plastic doll was reversible. Slowly she became aware that she had stopped thinking of escape plans and was recalling from memory the sensations of being Hyppolyte's punching bag. She realized that somehow her right hand had slid into her crotch and was idly stroking her erect clitoris. She became aware of the woman lying next to her, aware of her softness, smoothness, and warmth. Before she could stop herself, Supergirl masturbated herself to climax.

ggghhh

The next morning Supergirl was awakened by Hyppolyte pushing her out of bed. Fortunately I'm a morning person, Supergirl thought. Then she thought of poor Bonnie Faye, who could never get out of bed before ten ay em.

"Come, lazy slave-girl!" Hyppolyte said. "You will be my towel girl while I bathe." She went to a curtain hanging in front of the wall separating the bedroom from the bathroom and pulled it back to reveal an array of shelves. From one shelf she took a shower cap and handed it to Supergirl with the command to put it on.

Supergirl looked at the plastic beret, saw that the glass-clear plastic was speckled with faint hazy dots that seemed to shimmer and sparkle with some internal light, and then put it on. "Now why would she want me to w...," she began to think and then heard in a soft voice, "...ear an extra shower cap." Then, "Oh."

"It's called a vocalizer," Hyppolyte said. "It allows you to speak to me and when you speak to me you will always address me as Mistress. Do you understand?"

"Yes, uh, Mistress," Supergirl said.

"Good," Hyppolyte said. "Now, come with me!"

She led Supergirl into her bathroom and pointed to the towel rack. On the rack Supergirl saw several towels, from the big fluffy one to several coarse ones. From a lunette cantilevered over the large fluffy towel hung a bouffant shower cap made of transparent-sea-green plastic on which small violet dots were printed and a sea green rubber band.

"Prepare me for my bath!" Hyppolyte commanded. She stood next to the shower with her hands on her thighs.

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. "Uh, how?"

Hyppolyte sighed. "Put my shower cap on me!" she said.

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. "Right away, Mistress." She took Hyppolyte's shower cap off the lunette and then went behind Hyppolyte to put in on her.

Hyppolyte turned to face her, put her hands on her hips, and leaned forward to go nose to nose with her prisoner. "Always stand in front of me when you prepare me for my shower!" she said.

"Y...Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. She reached up and slipped the shower cap over Hyppolyte's hair and then tucked several stray wisps of raven ringlets under the rubber band.

Hyppolyte examined herself in the mirror over the sink and said, "Yes, good. I think you will make a good towel girl."

"Thank you, Mistress," Supergirl said.

Hyppolyte stepped into the shower and pulled the clear plastic curtain closed. She turned on the water and began to soap herself.

Supergirl watched in fascination as Hyppolyte rubbed the bar of soap between her hands to create a lather and then rubbed the lather over her body. She felt herself go all warm and quivery inside as she watched Hyppolyte fondle her breasts, put her hands into her crotch, and smear soap foam over her thighs.

Shaking herself out of her reverie lest she embarrass herself, she went to the towel rack and took the big fluffy towel and slung it over her shoulder. She turned to go back to her position in front of the shower and noticed the large mirror over the sink.

Catching sight of herself in the mirror, Supergirl let out a yelp.

"What's wrong?" Hyppolyte demanded.

"I..I'm sorry, Mistress," Supergirl stammered. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"What did you exclaim about?" Hyppolyte asked.

"I, uh, I just saw myself in the mirror," Supergirl said. "I look like I'm pregnant."

"That's because you puffed out your belly for me before I changed you," Hyppolyte said. She began to rinse the lather off her body. "It makes you bouncier and more punchable and makes you more comfortable for me to lie upon."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said.

"You disapprove?" Hyppolyte asked.

"Well, Mistress, I don't believe my approval or disapproval counts for much here," Supergirl replied.

"True and well said," Hyppolyte said with a little sigh of exasperation, "but it does not answer the question that I asked."

"Well, Mistress," Supergirl said, "if I look at it from your point of view, I agree that it makes good sense. It makes me a better toy."

"And from your point of view?" Hyppolyte prompted. "And please don't bore me with any whining about how you do not want to be an inflatable toy." She carefully wiped lather onto her face.

"No, Mistress, uh, I mean yes, Mistress," Supergirl said, not knowing which response was the right one. "I mean I'll do as you say, Mistress."

"So?" Hyppolyte asked, leaving the question hanging in the air.

"Well, given that I want to be an inflatable toy, I think that after a little thought I would choose to be fattened up."

"Why?" Hyppolyte asked. "So far all you have done is to tell me what you think I want to hear. Now tell me why you would make that choice." Closing her eyes, she put her face into the spray of water coming from the shower.

"My first thought is that inflatable toys are supposed to be round and puffy," Supergirl said. "I would not have thought of the reasons you gave me."

"An honest enough answer," Hyppolyte said as she wiped excess water off her face.

"Thank you, Mistress," Supergirl said. "Now may I ask you a question?"

"Yes, you may," Hyppolyte said. She soaped her body a second time.

Supergirl's voice trembled. "Wh-why did you get on top of me and play with me in bed last night?"

"Ah," Hyppolyte said, "an excellent question." She paused to think. "Sexual desire is a strange thing," she said. "The Gods gave it to us so that we would be compelled to do what is necessary to ensure the continuation of the human race. But they gave it to us in the form of a kind of madness. It is a daemon that lives within us."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. "That is also the understanding of my people. It is truly a mystery. Perhaps there is no answer to the question?"

"We are Greeks," Hyppolyte said firmly. "We created philosophy in order to seek the truth in all matters. We created logic to guide reason as the stars guide the seafarer. We never say there is no answer!"

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said, "but sometimes the answer might be hard to find."

"Then ask the question anew," Hyppolyte said. She put her back into the water spray and rubbed her hand between her buttocks to remove the soap there. "What gets us hot and makes us tremble with desire? What causes my heart to inflate my clitoris with libido and make it grow hard?"

"The anticipation of touching someone we love?" Supergirl ventured to guess.

"No," Hyppolyte said. "Love has nothing to do with it. Tell me, my little airbag, do you believe that I was expressing love for you last night?"

"No, Mistress," Supergirl said.

"And yet," Hyppolyte continued, "my heart pounded in my chest like a caught fish striving to get back to the water. My breath became a gale. I trembled as if filled with fear. And I felt hot. My clitoris has never been as hard as it was when I saw that you were my bedwarmer."

"So you got hot over my helplessness and humiliation?" Supergirl guessed.

"Yes," Hyppolyte said. "Now I think you are beginning to understand lust."

"You mean you get sexually excited by dominating another woman," Supergirl said.

"Not just any woman," Hyppolyte said. "No, nothing has promised my clitoris so much pleasure as having the pretty and powerful Supergirl naked and helpless in my grasp."

"So you get special pleasure from dominating a high status woman," Supergirl guessed.

"Yes," Hyppolyte said. "That seems an obvious feature of sexual desire. After all, the Gods gave us sex in order, not only to reproduce our kind, but to reproduce the best of our kind. We must, therefore, desire the best. We must desire it enough that we will let nothing stand between us and the satisfaction of the desire."

"So you feel that you need to control the object of your love?" Supergirl guessed.

"Not love," Hyppolyte corrected. She turned off the shower, pulled back the shower curtain, and confronted Supergirl. "Lust. And, yes, it was my possession of you that drew the bow of my lust and loosed the arrow of my passion."

"But," Supergirl said hesitantly, "but we are not reproducing."

"No, we are not," Hyppolyte agreed with a smile. "We are simply enjoying our sexual desire for its own sake, for the pure pleasure of it."

She stood with her arms spread in an attitude of invitation. Taking the hint, Supergirl approached her with the towel and offered it to her.

"Oh," Hyppolyte said, "do you think that I am going to dry myself?"

"I...I don't know, Mistress," Supergirl said. "I...I'm not sure that I should be putting my hands on you."

Hyppolyte sighed. "You have much to learn about being a slave-girl. When you are my towel girl you may touch wherever you need to put the towel to dry my body properly. Only take care not to poke me in a sensitive area."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. She pressed the towel against Hyppolyte's face to absorb the water there and then blotted the droplets of water clinging to her shower cap before rubbing the towel down her body.

"What was I saying?" Hyppolyte mused. "Ah, yes. I played with you in my bed last night, and will certainly do so again, because I should fear you. You were the most powerful of women and when I mounted you I felt all the symptoms of fear. But I had humiliated you, taken away your power to hurt me, and that transmuted my would-be fear into lust."

Kneeling on the floor to dry Hyppolyte's legs, Supergirl became aware of her clitoris protruding from where her labia met at the front of her crotch. She felt quivery inside again as she listened to Hyppolyte.

"Your defeat, the sight of you serving me as a helpless punching bag, enlarged my libido, so much so that my clitoris became harder than I have ever felt it before. And then the madness that possessed me and filled me with pleasure as I stabbed my clitoris into your soft, warm plastic again and again! Here words fail me: I have none that can truly describe what happened."

Supergirl set the fluffy towel aside and took a thinner one off the holder. "I think I understand, Mistress. You have answered my question...uh, truly and well said." She lifted Hyppolyte's breasts to dry the skin under them. She felt quivery inside at the sensation of touching Hyppolyte's warm skin. She saw her rubbery nipples and aureoles as brick-red islands riding high on swells on a translucent milky-white sea and felt her own clitoris respond. She wondered idly whether she would take sexual pleasure from mounting Hyppolyte and riding her like a pool toy. Then she noticed the bemused expression on Hyppolyte's face.

"So," Hyppolyte said, "my answer pleases you, does it,...Mistress?"

"Uh, I didn't mean to sound disrespectful, Mistress," Supergirl said. "I just wanted you to know that you...uh...."

"You have much to learn about being a slave-girl," Hyppolyte said with a smile. "You are still new to this, so I can forgive some small lapses. But learn well and quickly, for this time of forgiveness is short."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. She stood up, her task complete. Then on a lark she gripped the towel by opposite corners, spun it around a couple of times, and gave at a flip that sent one end snapping against Hyppolyte's left buttock.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hyppolyte asked in a shocked tone.

"Just a little shower room horseplay," Supergirl said.

"You hit me!" Hyppolyte said in astonishment.

"Yeah," Supergirl said jauntily as she tossed the towel toward the rack. "Ya wanna fight over it?" She held up her fists in a parody of a boxer's stance and danced around a bit, throwing jabs toward Hyppolyte. "C'mon, let's go a coupla rounds."

In wide-eyed amazement Hyppolyte led Supergirl back into the bedroom and told her to get into her bouncing skirt. When Supergirl complied, the witch queen put the inflator hose into the valve and inflated the skirt significantly more taut than it had been the day before. Then she put the handcuffs back on Supergirl to bind her hands behind her back.

"Hey, no fair," Supergirl protested. "We can't have a fight like this."

Hyppolyte simply punched her. And she kept on punching her every time she bounced back up. After a few minutes her rhythm changed and Supergirl saw that she was doing her weird aerobic-like exercise on her again. After half an hour Hyppolyte stopped beating her toy, unbound her hands, and pushed the deflater into the skirt's valve. As the skirt deflated, she took off her shower cap and tossed it onto the bed, then pointed to Supergirl's raincoat and special apron lying on the chair where she had put them the night before.

"When you can get out of that skirt, put on your raincoat and apron and then see if you can figure out where to put my shower cap." Without waiting for a reply, she left the room.

Only a few minutes later Supergirl was able to slide the skirt down to her knees and step out of it. She put on her raincoat and Supergirl apron, then took Hyppolyte's shower cap to the bathroom and hung it on its lunette. She went back into the bedroom to wait for Hyppolyte and decided to explore her prison.

She saw that the only part of the bedroom that she had not noticed was the wooden cabinet covered by a curtain. She pulled the curtain aside and looked over the shelves. Most held things whose purpose she could not fathom. Others held neatly folded dresses. The shelf next to one of those held several neatly folded plastic aprons. One held a folded something or other made of rubbery smooth, almost clear transparent-white plastic. Supergirl lifted a corner and found the plastic was so soft that it draped limply over her finger. But it was also thicker that the plastic of her raincoat, so she assumed that it was a spare shower curtain.

She closed the cabinet's curtain and was about to go into the front room when she heard someone come into the house. She went to her bouncing skirt and stood with her hands clasped behind her back. Mere seconds later Hyppolyte came into the room.

"It's time to begin your first lesson," Hyppolyte said to her. She picked up the shackles from her chair and rebound Supergirl. Then she led her prisoner out of the house and to the Athenaeum. Going through the main hall at the front of the building, they went to Hyppolyte's chambers.

"Do nothing to embarrass me!" Hyppolyte warned.

"As you wish, Mistress," Supergirl said. "I am merely your plastic prisoner. I am your helpless...."

A look of horror came over Hyppolyte's face and she snatched the vocalizer off Supergirl's head. Wagging a finger in Supergirl's face, she said, "And don't try to get me hot in public!"

Supergirl could only shake her head and then bow it in submission.

Hyppolyte dropped the vocalizer onto a table on the right side of her throne, positioned Supergirl on the left side, and sat down. "Watch carefully and learn," she said.

Several moments later Supergirl heard someone in the hall call out something in Greek. Hyppolyte replied and two women came into the room with a crying teenaged girl between them. Approaching the throne the girl knelt on the carpet, bowed her head and sobbed quietly as the two women spoke to Hyppolyte. Hyppolyte began the proceeding by insisting that the women speak English "...so that my slave may learn our ways and improve her value to me." The women complied and the girl made a good effort, even though it was clear that she did not have a full grasp of the language.

From what was said Supergirl inferred that the girl, Xantippe, had gone into a special area at a forbidden time. Xantippe, for her part, pleaded that she had gotten lost and did not know that she was in the taboo place.

"You seem to have considerable difficulty with your knowledge of geography," Hyppolyte commented.

"Yes, My Queen," Xantippe said, sniffling.

"Well," Hyppolyte said, "learning comes easily when you have the proper incentive."

"Oh, no, My Queen," Xantippe sobbed. "Please! I will learn well from my error."

"Indeed you shall," Hyppolyte said. To the two women who had brought Xantippe in she said, "Take her to the punishment parlor and give her the full treatment!"

"No, My Queen, please," Xantippe wailed. "Please, be merciful."

It was to no avail. The women took the crying girl from the room.

Hyppolyte stood up from her throne and beckoned to Supergirl to come with her. She went to the rear of her chamber and opened a door disguised as a hanging tapestry. She ushered Supergirl through the door, cautioned her to be quiet, and closed the door behind her as she came into the little room, more like a small closet, on the other side.

The far wall of the closet was glass and on the opposite side the glass was covered with a fine latticework. Supergirl guessed that they could observe what happened in the room beyond without being seen themselves. What she saw in the room beyond horrified her.

In a room half the size of Hyppolyte's chamber a dozen men stood at attention. They had been stripped naked, made to put on their plastic raincoats with their helmet-style hoods, and turned into roly-poly punching bags. They seemed to be holding stubby cigarettes in their pursed lips and Supergirl quickly guessed that if any of them had to be reinflated, he would receive the sensation of being kissed by a beautiful woman. Through the transparent plastic of the raincoats, tinted black, gray, dark green, and hazy white, Supergirl saw that each man's penis stood up long and straight. Among the men she saw one she recognized, a low-level mobster she had once captured for the police. She figured that there must be some connection between him and the kryptonite on the island.

The two women were holding Xantippe by her arms when they brought her into the room, virtually holding her up. She and the women had lapsed back into Greek, so Supergirl could not understand what they were saying, but it was clear that Xantippe was begging the women for something. The women simply dragged her into the room and plopped her down in front of the first bag they came to. One of the women then took a vocalizer from inside her dress and slipped it over the man's hood.

"Hey, Xantippe, baby, good to see you again," a man's voice said. "Can't get enough of me, huh? C'mon, blow me good!"

Supergirl watched in fascinated horror as Xantippe put her hands on the sides of the bag and then pressed her face against its front. From the small motions that she saw the man making inside his raincoat and from the comments and grunts he was making through the vocalizer, she figured that Xantippe was presenting herself to him so that he could masturbate against her. She heard a great groan as the man climaxed and saw Xantippe turn her head so that the man was rubbing his penis against the plastic pressed against her cheek.

One by one the men were given the same treatment. Xantippe was pushed in front of each man and made to kiss the front of his raincoat while he rubbed his penis against it and made crude comments and suggestions through the vocalizer. One man was so fat that his raincoat was taut across his belly and he could not make the hip-thrusting motions necessary to masturbate himself: Xantippe was obliged to embrace him completely and push with her lips in accordance to his instructions to carry out her duty with him. As Xantippe finished the last man, Hyppolyte quietly took Supergirl out of the observation closet and back to her throne.

Xantippe was crying with deep wracking sobs when the two women brought her back into Hyppolyte's chamber. She knelt before Hyppolyte with her head almost on her knees.

"I have been punished," she sobbed. "I have learned the lesson that you set before me. Please, My Queen, remove these vile memories from my heart."

Reaching over to her table, Hyppolyte picked up the enslaving wand that she had used on Supergirl and her friends the day before. She held it up as if contemplating it and asked, "How many times have we been over this same lesson, Xantippe?"

"F-five, My Queen," Xantippe moaned.

"And have you made strong progress in your learning?"

"N-no, My Queen," said in almost a whisper. She began crying again.

"Then keep these memories with you as a goad to help you make progress in your learning," Hyppolyte said. "Return in one week and I shall test your knowledge of the metes and bounds. Then you may ask again to have the memories removed. You may go now."

"Thank you, My Queen, for your wise council," Xantippe said through sobbing breaths. Then she left with the her two escorts.

Hyppolyte set the enslaver back into its holder, picked up the vocalizer, and stood up to put it back on Supergirl.

"You come from the world of men," Hyppolyte said. "How does our punishment seem to you?"

"Cruel, Mistress," Supergirl said. "That poor girl was degraded."

"Would you call that a pleasant experience?"

"No, Mistress."

"Would you say that it is an experience to be avoided, even at the cost of some effort?"

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. Then she felt her raincoat grow warm as something like a blush flashed through her body. "I understand. I mean, I...I have learned the lesson that you have set before me."

"Excellent," Hyppolyte said. "Come, now! I must still punish you for what you did to me, but because you are new here, I will make it a gentle punishment."

"Thank you, Mistress," Supergirl said and started for the door in the half stride that the shackles allowed.

With a sigh of impatience, Hyppolyte picked Supergirl up, tucked her under one arm, and carried her away at a brisk stride. Back in her bedroom Hyppolyte set Supergirl down, removed her shackles, and told her to undress, to prepare to be punched. As she complied, taking off her apron and raincoat, Supergirl saw Hyppolyte take off her tiara and bracelets, and then remove her dress.

"I don't know why you would think that you could be so familiar with me," Hyppolyte said.

"I wasn't being disrespectful, Mistress," Supergirl said. "I was just being playful. I was trying to be friendly."

"We are not friends and you do not play with me," Hyppolyte said. "I play with you." She approached Supergirl, who was standing naked next to her deflated bouncing skirt. "You are no longer the mighty Supergirl," she continued, enunciating the words firmly. "You are my plastic prisoner."

Supergirl saw a strange look come over Hyppolyte's face and felt all quivery inside.

"You are not a superpowerful heroine," Hyppolyte said, starting to breathe heavily. "You are my weak inflatable slave."

"Oh, no, Mistress, please," Supergirl moaned. She started to back away and put up a hand defensively.

Hyppolyte grabbed Supergirl's wrist and pushed her onto the bed. "You are not a free woman," she said breathlessly as she mounted Supergirl. Her crotch was already wet, so she began rubbing her clitoris on Supergirl's right thigh. Nose to nose with her prisoner and panting heavily, she gasped, "You are my helpless bouncy balloon doll."

"Oh, Mistress, please don't," Supergirl moaned in despair.

Hyppolyte put her left cheek on Supergirl's and, panting heavily, gasped out, "You are my soft, warm blowup toy."

"Yes, you're right, Mistress," Supergirl said, sounding as if she were about to cry. "I am your soft blowup toy. Oh, please, Mistress, please be gentle with me."

Hyppolyte jerked and squeezed Supergirl hard. Her whole body was wracked with hard spasms as she writhed and squirmed on her prize. Supergirl's body emitted dull squeaks of skin rubbing on plastic and Supergirl felt Hyppolyte's clitoris dig hard into her thigh. Finally Hyppolyte gave out a long quivering groan and collapsed, panting, on top of Supergirl.

Some time later Hyppolyte rolled over and said, "Now that's the way to please your mistress!"

She got up off the bed then and redressed herself. Without so much as a good-bye she left the bungalow, leaving Supergirl lying on the bed in shock.

Perhaps half an hour later Supergirl got up off the bed and went to the bathroom to wash the dried remains of Hyppolyte's crotch slobber off her thigh. After cleaning herself, she started to go back to the bedroom, but was stopped by a thought. The thought frightened her and made her tremble, but she acted on it. She took Hyppolyte's shower cap off the lunette and carried to the bedroom with her.

She laid herself back down on the bed and held the shower cap up to gaze at it. She recalled the sensations of being Hyppolyte's punching bag, of being masturbated by the plastic of the bouncing skirt's inner layer, and laid the shower cap on her belly. The plastic warmed immediately and she rubbed the cap over her belly, feeling the warm quivery feeling as she slid it toward her crotch. She felt the pressure behind her clitoris rising as she rubbed the shower cap over her thighs. She imagined Hyppolyte panting over her as she bounced and wobbled and finally grabbing her on an upward bounce. She spread her legs and pushed the shower cap into her crotch as she imagined hot naked Hyppolyte pushing her over backward onto a large pillow, kneeling by her and then embracing her and kissing her. She imagined Hyppolyte telling her that she loved her and rubbed the shower cap over her clitoris. Suddenly the pressure in her crotch left her, gushing out of her in long hard spasms.

Having thus satisfied herself, Supergirl put Hyppolyte's shower cap back its lunette. She then put on her raincoat and apron and waited to serve Hyppolyte's pleasure.

ggghhh

One morning, a week after her capture, Supergirl awakened to find Hyppolyte smiling at her. "Good morning lazy-bag," she said. "Come, it's time to face the day."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. Seeing Hyppolyte start to get out of bed, she asked, "Aren't you going to have your way with me, Mistress?"

"Now isn't that sweet and submissive of you to remind me?" Hyppolyte said with delight in her voice. "But, no. I want to save my libido for tonight. I have arranged a special humiliation for you today."

"And how will I be getting you hot tonight, Mistress?" Supergirl said.

"I don't want to spoil your surprise," Hyppolyte said. "But I will tell you this much. Today you will have your first kiss fight and, O Mighty Supergirl, you don't have a chance."

After Hyppolyte had showered and enjoyed her morning exercise, she left the house. Supergirl finished her chores and then sat to try to figure out what a kiss fight was.

That afternoon about a dozen women gathered in Hyppolyte's front room with Hyppolyte. Supergirl, wearing only her Supergirl apron, stood next to Hyppolyte's chair. Soon Arianna arrived, escorting Fleta. Supergirl saw through the transparent-gray plastic of her raincoat that she was wearing an ankle-length serving apron made of soft, smooth opaque-black plastic that had white lettering printed on it. When Arianna removed Fleta's shackles and raincoat Hyppolyte pointed out the apron to Supergirl and told her that the lettering meant "Kiss me if you can".

"That is your goal," Hyppolyte said. "You must knock her down and kiss her lips to score. You must also prevent her from doing the same to you. That is all you need to know about kiss fighting."

Supergirl almost felt sorry for Fleta. Hyppolyte and Arianna took their respective prisoners' aprons off and Fleta and Supergirl walked toward each other within the circle of women. Fleta went into a half crouch, wrapped her arms around Supergirl, and leaped. Supergirl fell over backward and landed on the floor with Fleta on top of her. Before she could react Fleta leaned into her and kissed her.

They broke apart and returned to stand before their respective mistresses before going at each other again. Supergirl realized that she had subconsciously been depending upon the superspeed and superstregth that she no longer had. She tried to recall from memory the techniques that her mother had taught her in the centrifugal gym in Argo City and to recall some of the moves that she had seen Batgirl employ. But, she remembered, Fleta's father had been a Navy frogman in the Second World War and he had taught his daughter well. She got her second kiss almost immediately.

Then understanding came to her. Without weight to anchor them, all her martial arts moves were useless and the same was true for Fleta. In this fight only size counted: all advantage went to the bigger woman. Hyppolyte's meaning now became clear. The fight was scored by a system based on prime numbers: Supergirl lost seventeen to zero.

Fleta knelt before Hyppolyte to receive acknowledgment of her victory. Supergirl, thoroughly humiliated, stood next to her with her head bowed.

"Your mistress," Hyppolyte said to Fleta, "tells me that you like to play with your opponents after you humiliate them."

"Yes, My Queen," Fleta said. "I feel that it finishes the task I have only begun."

"Would you like to play with Supergirl?" Hyppolyte asked.

"Oh, yes, My Queen!" Fleta enthused. "Dare I hope to be granted such a magnificent privilege?"

"Hope and more!" Hyppolyte commanded. "You may take her in the bedroom!"

"Oh, thank you, My Generous Queen," Fleta said. She grabbed Supergirl's arm and drew her toward the bedroom.

"Fleta, please don't," Supergirl pleaded quietly. Her voice was tense as if she were about to cry. "Please. We're supposed to be friends."

"Then be a good friend and submit to me quietly," Fleta said. "I don't care for any discussion when I play with my victims."

They went through the curtain and Fleta pushed Supergirl toward the bed. Turning around, Supergirl saw Fleta put a finger to her lips.

Moving close to Supergirl, Fleta said in a whisper, "Just play along. We need to talk. If you see anyone coming, let out a yelp as if I just hurt you."

Supergirl put up her hand in a futile defensive gesture and found it pressed flat against Fleta's left breast.

"Please don't play with my bazoonies," Fleta said.

"Right," Supergirl said as she took her hand down.

"And don't squirm," she said further. "I don't like lying on women and I certainly don't want to feel you rubbing against me."

"I'll try to feel like a boy," Supergirl said.

"With my nose poking your fairy princess shower cap," Fleta said. "Yeah, that should work."

"Sorry," Supergirl said as Fleta pushed her down onto the bed.

Fleta got on top of her and lay motionless. "Listen," she said quietly, "if you can get your hands on the transformer, the thing they used to turn us into plastic, press the dull end against your valve stem. That's the thing in your neck. You'll change back to normal immediately."

"How do you know?" Supergirl asked, turning her head as if trying to avoid Fleta's affections but actually watching the bedroom door.

"One of the other slaves got punctured," Fleta said. "I was able to watch when they put a patch on her leg, blew her up, and then changed her back to normal. They told her that she would be given time to heal the wound and then they would turn her back into plastic."

"OK," Supergirl said. "So we just have to get the transformer. Do you know where it is?"

"No," Fleta said. "I'm hoping someone else can give us that information. So do you have anything that will help our escape?"

"Not directly," Supergirl said. "But I found out that the enslaving wand can be used to take memories away from people's minds. That might be useful when this nightmare is over."

"OK, then," Fleta said. "Time for our grand finale." She began to grunt, quietly at first and then louder. She uttered a long series of quavery "Ohhhs", and then cried out, "Oh you hot Kryptonian pig!"

"I beg your pardon," Supergirl whispered indignantly.

"Hush," Fleta said. "I'm giving our act verisimilitude."

"Oh, OK," Supergirl said.

Fleta got up off the bed and took Supergirl's hand to help her get up. They stood face to face and Fleta put her hands on Supergirl's shoulders.

"I hope I see you again real soon," Fleta said quietly, "and I hope you're solid when I do."

"So do I," Supergirl said. Then she bowed her head and allowed Fleta to push back into the front room.

"Well, at least she's good for something," Fleta announced to the Amazons.

Supergirl balked at that and Fleta gave her a rough shove that left her standing, head bowed, in the middle of the room. Fleta went to kneel before Hyppolyte and bowed her head.

"Thank you, My Gracious Queen," Fleta said, "for allowing me to play with your toy."

Shortly the women began to take their leave and Arianna allowed Fleta to put her raincoat and apron back on. After putting Fleta's shackles back on her, Arianna took her to the door in preparation to leave.

Hyppolyte escorted them to the door and said to Arianna, "We shall have to do this again sometime. Perhaps when Supergirl has learned a little better how to fend off unwanted affections."

"Assuming that they were unwanted," Arianna said with a knowing smile.

Hyppolyte laughed and when her guests had left she went up behind Supergirl and put her arms around her. "Now you're my hot Kryptonian pig," she said. "Come along! You know what I want."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. And deep in her heart she vowed that if, no when, she and her friends got out of this situation, she would make Fleta pay for that remark.

ggghhh

Five days after the kiss fight Supergirl ran into Fleta again. Hyppolyte had taken her to the Hestion and stood her next to Fleta in the dining hall. She had then gone to confer with Arianna and another woman before going through the door at the rear of the hall.

"I'm going nuts," Fleta said. "Do you know what it's like to be used as a sex toy every night?"

"As a matter of fact...," Supergirl started to say. "Have you tried not paying attention? Thinking of some problem in mathematics, perhaps?"

"Oh, yeah," Fleta said. "Do you remember that integral that was giving me so much grief? It's done." She tapped the side of her head. "And memorized."

"Oh, good," Supergirl said.

"Not so good," Fleta said with a little moan. "Now whenever I use that integral I will be reminded of Arianna huffing and puffing on me like some insane rubber locomotive."

Hyppolyte and Arianna returned then and led their prisoners to the rear of the hall and through that rear door. They came into a room whose rear seemed to vanish into roiling fog. But what drew Supergirl's attention was the thing that stretched across the full width of the room and extended back into the fog.

On first impression it looked like some kind of weird baroque public fountain, an array of basins, all rendered in intricately carved marble. Some basins were deep and others were little more than dish-shallow depressions in an otherwise flat marble tabletop. Supergirl estimated that if she were to wrap her arms around one of the basins, she would only reach halfway. Behind the basins the marble seemed to blur, as if it wasn't really there.

In the space between adjacent basins a small bridge, looking a little like a Roman aqueduct and standing six inches tall, extended from the front of the fountain back into the fog. The near end of each bridge came into foot-wide copy of the basin to its left and at the front of that little basin Supergirl saw one of the heat-sensitive mushroom-cap switches like the ones that Hyppolyte used to control the lights in her bungalow.

Supergirl was distracted from her study of the thing before her by Raghida, Bonnie, and Benta being brought into the room by their mistresses. All five women stood shackled as Hyppolyte addressed them.

"Tonight we celebrate the Feast of the Three Virgin Goddesses," she said. "Normally when we dine we serve each other, but tonight that is forbidden. Tonight you and other slaves will serve us. You five have been chosen to be wine-servers. Listen carefully and learn your duties well."

A young woman named Iphigenia showed them what they would be required to do. First they would take a measure of wine from an amphora that was set up in a holder on one side of the room and put it into one of the small basins. She then emphasized the next step: pouring water from a flagon by the little basin into the wine. Because the midday meal was due, she demonstrated the procedure, pouring wine and water into the little basin. Then she told the slave women that the next step was to touch the sensor and she directed their attention to the large basin adjacent the small one and touched the sensor herself.

Gasps of astonishment emanated from five vocalizers. At the same instant that Iphigenia touched the sensor a blur filled the large basin and then came into focus as enough watered wine to fill the basin to its rim.

"Lady," Fleta said, "I know a place where this thing would make you a billionaire and then some!"

Iphigenia only chuckled. Then she showed her charges how to fill a calyx and carry it into the dining hall.

That night the five women were brought back to the Hestion and made to take off all of their clothes. As serving girls they would perform their duties in the nude.

Much later that night, when the celebration was over, Hyppolyte took Supergirl home. She carried Supergirl's shackles slung over her shoulder and carried Supergirl herself cradled in her left arm, half slung over her left shoulder. As she walked, the Amazon queen caressed Supergirl's buttocks with her right hand.

"Mmm, that feels good, Mistress," Supergirl said. She brought her hands up and put her arms around Hyppolyte's neck.

"You and your friends did well tonight," Hyppolyte said. "Especially you. Seeing you naked and subservient got me much hotter than I anticipated."

"Uh, thank you, Mistress," Supergirl said.

Hyppolyte's long strides quickly brought them home and Hyppolyte went straight to the bedroom. She set Supergirl down and took off her jewelry, apron, and dress. Then she got into bed lying on her back.

"Now you may undress for me," she said.

For a moment the only sound in the bedroom was the swish of soft, smooth plastic as Supergirl, standing before the foot of the bed, untied her apron, slipped it off, and put it onto the chair with Hyppolyte's clothes. Then she opened the front of her raincoat, shrugged it off her shoulders, and let it slip off. She laid it on top of her apron and then stood with her head bowed and her hands clasped behind her back.

"I am ready to serve you now, Mistress," she said. "How may I please you?"

"Get into bed," Hyppolyte said. She was already breathing heavily. She watched Supergirl get under the covers, then reached out and turned off the lights. She rolled over and mounted Supergirl immediately.

Again Supergirl felt Hyppolyte's body warmth hot upon her plastic skin, felt Hyppolyte's weight press that heat down upon her, and felt Hyppolyte's clitoris digging into and sliding upon her right thigh. She felt as well as heard Hyppolyte's tremulous breathing in her left ear. She blushed with humiliation as she listened to Hyppolyte gloat over her and again feared she might pop as Hyppolyte climaxed, squeezing her and shaking her with hard spasms. Again Hyppolyte had not touched Supergirl's clitoris. As Hyppolyte went to sleep on her, Supergirl slowly reached up, removed her vocalizer, and cried herself to sleep.

ggghhh

The night was dark and silent. Lying in bed Supergirl heard only Hyppolyte's slow breathing. She knew that the witch queen was in a deep sleep from which she could be raised with difficulty. She had discovered that fact her first week of captivity, when she had discovered that she could sneak out of bed and explore the house without rousing her mistress. Of course, in the dark without supervision, she could accomplish nothing in her exploration. But she had stood near a window and looked out into the forest and seen strange lights flitting among the trees. Nealesvos, she decided, had an abundance of mysteries.

Tonight, though, some three weeks after she and her friends had been captured, she harbored no desire to get out of bed. As she lay quietly under the covers, she allowed her attention to turn fully to the warm, beautiful woman lying next to her. She dared to lift her right hand and slowly lay it on Hyppolyte's left leg. As she touched the rubbery-smooth flesh and felt its heat, she felt the pressure in her clitoris rise. She felt fluttery inside and felt herself grow warmer. She slid her hand along Hyppolyte's thigh, but the bigger woman didn't move.

Slowly and carefully Supergirl rolled over onto her right side and slid herself next to Hyppolyte. She slid her left leg up over Hyppolyte's, slid her left hand across her belly, and pressed her lips against Hyppolyte's left breast. Thoroughly aroused, she began to slide her clitoris on Hyppolyte's thigh and soon came to climax. She had just begun to dismount when Hyppolyte gave out a little grunt, then a small sigh. Supergirl waited a moment, then, convinced that Hyppolyte was still asleep, finished dismounting her. She then went to sleep.

She was just finishing drying Hyppolyte, fresh from her morning shower, when Hyppolyte asked, "What do you know of daemonic possession?"

"Well, Mistress," Supergirl said, "my people don't believe in demons, so I have to say that I know nothing of it."

"Then how do you explain a slave-girl getting on top of her mistress in the middle of the night and masturbating on her leg?"

Supergirl felt as if she had just been exposed to kryptonite. "M...Mistress?" she stammered.

"I seem to have had an especially warm dream last night," Hyppolyte said a little too sweetly. "I dreamed that you mounted me, pressed your lips against my left breast, and masturbated your clitoris against my left leg. Did you, by chance, share that dream?"

"Y...yes, Mistress," Supergirl said, "b...but it was n...no dream." She followed Hyppolyte into the bedroom.

"Truly so?" Hyppolyte said. She put a finger to her temple and said, "Now I'm trying to remember. Have I had this dream that is not a dream before last night?"

"Y...yes, M...Mistress," Supergirl said. "S...six times."

Hyppolyte was astonished, downright flabbergasted. "Seven times you have mounted me in my own bed and had your way with me?!" She raised her hands and addressed the ceiling. "Oh, cold-hearted Artemis, are you listening to this? My slave-girl plays with me as a toy!"

"B...but Mistress," Supergirl tried to say.

Hyppolyte stabbed her hand toward Supergirl, leaving her extended index finger trembling a bare inch from Supergirl's nose. "You!" she barked. With a voice dripping fuming frothing venom, she hissed, "Get dressed!"

Moving quickly and not daring to utter another word, Supergirl put on her raincoat and apron. She stood submissively as Hyppolyte put on her own dress and apron and then put the shackles on her.

Hyppolyte took her to the Athenaeum. The shackles compelled her to waddle in order to keep pace with the giant Amazon, but she dared not falter or seem to be dawdling. Into the building they went and then into Hyppolyte's chamber.

"Stay here!" Hyppolyte said as she shoved Supergirl into the room and then closed the door.

Supergirl looked around. She hadn't been in this room since the day that Hyppolyte had demonstrated the use of the punishment parlor to her. And on that day she had not been alone. She walked into the one part of the room that she had not explored, either then or when she and her friends had been waiting to go on the auction block. Behind Hyppolyte's throne, low to the floor, she saw a case made of glass panels set in a wood frame. And inside the case she saw the transformer and the enslaver resting on simple wooden cradles on a bed of what looked like moss. She gave an experimental lift to the lid and found that she was too weak to open the case. Quickly she returned to stand before Hyppolyte's throne.

Hyppolyte returned to the room shortly. Saying nothing, she went to Supergirl and shoved her toward the door. In the hallway she gave her another shove toward the rear of the building.

A horrible suspicion dawned in Supergirl's mind. "Mistress, please speak to me," she said in a voice tinged with fear.

Hyppolyte said nothing, but merely opened the door of the punishment parlor and pushed Supergirl in.

"Oh, yeah," she heard a man's voice call out, "party time!"

She saw that all of the men were wearing vocalizers and she began to tremble. She felt Hyppolyte standing behind her.

"Do any of you men," Hyppolyte said, pronouncing the last word with a sneer, "know of someone called Supergirl?"

All of the men called out their affirmatives. One man in a transparent-gray plastic raincoat that had transparent-black tiger stripes printed on it said, "Yeah, I had some business with her once."

"Hey, Queenie," one man called out, "Who's the new girl?"

Hyppolyte pushed Supergirl toward the man in gray.

"Holy shit!" the man said. "Hey, guys, this is the real deal. I'd reco'nize that face anywhere. Jeez, the queen blew up Supercunt! Hey, Your Highness, I owe this dame somethin', like, you know, a debt. Do you think you could let me outa this bag so I can pay her off?"

"Perhaps," Hyppolyte said sourly, "someday."

"Oh, yeah!" the man said. "Hey, Supercunt, I can't wait to see my cum all over your pretty little face."

"Hey, Jojo," another man called, "she must want it real bad. She came with her raincoat and apron on."

"Yeah," Jojo continued, "I'm lookin' at gettin' a parole from this joint and maybe I can swing a deal with Her Highness, know what I mean?"

"Hey, guys, look at her belly!" another man called out. "Looks like Superslut got knocked up!"

Supergirl turned then, went back to Hyppolyte, and knelt before her.

"Hey, Superslut, come'ere," another man called. "I gotta a bumper 'er, stick 'er that I wanna put on your sweet little ass."

"Woe, she's gonna blow the queen!"

"Please have mercy upon me, Mistress," Supergirl said. "I have learned the lesson that you have set before me."

Hyppolyte put her hands on Supergirl's shoulders. "Very well," she said. "Now come with me!"

Supergirl got up and went toward the door behind Hyppolyte.

"Hey, no, no, wait!" one of the men called out. "Wait Queenie. She's supposta do us. That's the deal we got, ya know? They come in here and they gotta do us."

"Yeah, have a heart Your Highness," another man called. "C'mon, don't tell us we got dolled up in these girlie shower caps for nothin'."

As she reached the door Hyppolyte was stopped by a gesture from Daphne.

"My Queen," Daphne said, "when you were distracted two of the rubbersticks addressed you in terms you have forbidden."

"Punish them," Hyppolyte said simply.

"Yes, My Queen," Daphne said happily.

Hyppolyte put her right arm around Supergirl's shoulders and pressed her left hand against her belly. "Now," she said quietly, "is that the goal that you set out to reach when you told yourself that you could play with me?"

Supergirl became aware of her raincoat's plastic becoming especially warm under Hyppolyte's touch. "No, Mistress," she said.

"Very well, then," Hyppolyte said and walked with her prisoner in silence until they returned to Hyppolyte's bungalow and entered the bedroom.

"I don't understand how you could possibly believe that you could take such liberties with me," Hyppolyte said as she took off Supergirl's shackles.

Supergirl undressed herself and submitted to being put into the bouncing skirt. Once the skirt was blown full, Hyppolyte retrieved the handcuffs from her chair and approached Supergirl with them.

"No, please, Mistress," Supergirl said, raising her hands as if to ward off her fate. "Please, let me show you that I will be a good slave-girl for you." Then she pressed her hands flat against the sides of the skirt and waited.

"Very well," Hyppolyte said as she tossed the handcuffs back onto her chair, "I will test you." She gave Supergirl a quick jab and then another when she bounced back up. Satisfied that Supergirl would continue to stand passively and submit to her, she began punching her in earnest. "You still have not explained your behavior," she said.

Supergirl watched Hyppolyte's warm breasts jiggle as Hyppolyte's fists drew soft rubbery thumps off her inflated body. "I have been your prisoner for three weeks now," Supergirl said, "and you have not kissed me even once."

Startled by the non sequitur, Hyppolyte missed her next punch and Supergirl came up face first into her left breast. "Why would I want to kiss you?" she asked in bewilderment. Then she pushed Supergirl over backward and resumed punching her toy.

"I was sorta hoping that we could be in love," Supergirl said.

"Love!" Hyppolyte exclaimed. "Again I must listen to this love talk?" She let out a sigh of exasperation and punched Supergirl in the mouth. "Did you not tell me yourself that lust makes us touch bodies and love makes us touch souls?"

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said.

"Then they are separate things and they need not meet. I do not need to love you in order to enjoy the warmth of your body and please my clitoris on it."

"But love serves a purpose," Supergirl said. "It moderates lust and prevents it from becoming cruel and degraded."

"Reason will serve just as well to put appropriate bounds upon my passions," Hypployte said. "Now reason tells me that I should not trust you to touch my soul; for you are not my lover: you are my toy. In bed I do not make love to you: I play with you. Do you understand, Supergirl? You are not a person to me. You are my punching bag and my fucking bag."

"But I want you to love me," Supergirl pleaded.

"Why?" Hyppolyte asked with a snort of derision. "So that you can play with me as if I were your toy?"

"Oh, no, Mistress," Supergirl said. "You are not a toy. You are a goddess. You...you're so big and strong and so very beautiful. Do you know what it's like to lie next to you and to feel your heat? It would drive anyone a little mad. You're like some strange new kind of kryptonite: you make me feel weak and helpless, but you also make me very hot. I am falling very deeply in love with you."

"I doubt that very much," Hyppolyte said. "I have made you a slave: I have taken away your precious freedom. Tell me how you can love someone who does that to you!"

"I'm going to be your plastic prisoner for the rest of my life," Supergirl said, her voice beginning to quaver. "I have resigned myself to that fact. You have told me yourself that no prisoner can escape from this island and after long thought I have come to believe you. So I surrender to you and accept my humiliation. I am like a bride accepting the mastery of her husband." She began to cry as Hyppolyte continued to bop her. "Don't I deserve just a little affection?" she sobbed.

After a minute Hyppolyte's punches softened into jabs and then Hyppolyte grabbed Supergirl on an upward bounce and held her until her crying subsided.

"You chose your words well," Hyppolyte said, "and pointed my attention in a new direction. Yes, you have been a good slave. You learned your place quickly and you have not hesitated to yield yourself to me. Even now you submit to being my punching bag. I can believe that you truly do not see me as a toy. And I also find your comment about going to bed with me making you hot draws my interest."

"I didn't mean to offend you, Mistress," Supergirl said, still sniffling.

Hyppolyte pushed her back a bit, gazed into her eyes, and shook her head. "I am not offended," she said. "I am sympathetic. It must indeed be a grievous burden to lie next to me and not be allowed to touch me. Because you have striven to be good to me, I will be good to you. When we are in bed you may play with me, but only if you get my permission first."

"Yes, Mistress, thank you." Supergirl said. "But I don't want to play with you: I want to make love to you."

Hyppolyte smiled. "You really are a sweet girl! You make me glad to lose the wealth I paid for you." Then she drew Supergirl close and kissed her.

Supergirl felt Hyppolyte's lips soft and warm on hers, but she also felt a hardness and a coldness in them.

ggghhh

Somewhat less than four weeks after her and her friends' capture Supergirl was in the front room of Hyppolyte's bungalow looking through the books that Hyppolyte kept there. She was trying to puzzle out just enough of the Greek to figure out what each book was about. Suddenly Hyppolyte came into the house and, seeming to ignore her, went into the bedroom. She returned a moment later with the soft shackles and put them on her prisoner.

"Come," she said when she was done. "Today's special lesson is about to be taught."

"Y...yes, Mistress," Supergirl said as she followed Hyppolyte to the door. "Uh, Mistress, may I ask a question?"

Hyppolyte paused in the doorway and said, "Only if it is a short one."

"Please, Mistress," Supergirl said, "how have I displeased you?"

"What?" Hyppolyte said. Then comprehension dawned and she said, "You have not displeased me and you are not being punished. You are merely being given a lesson. Now, come!"

Supergirl followed Hyppolyte as fast as her shackles would allow. When they had crossed the bridge over the creek, Hyppolyte paused and pointed toward the auction block, where Amazons and their slave-women were gathering.

"Go stand close to the auction block," Hyppolyte said and then strode away toward the Athenaeum.

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said to her and then walked over to where the other slave-women were gathering.

As she approached the auction block, she tried to see Fleta in the crowd. She wasn't able to see her right away and the Amazons were not allowing their prisoners the time to look for friends. She saw what she at first took to be a plastic nun and then she recognized Raghida's rain-abaya. She altered her course and sidled up to Raghida.

"When you see Fleta," Supergirl said, "tell her that the transformer is in a glass case behind Hyppolyte's throne in her judgement chamber."

"Right," Raghida said. "I think my next kiss fight with her is coming up soon."

"Good for us, not so good for you," Supergirl said. "Does anybody know where we are?"

Raghida started to reply, but a woman standing on the other side of her broke in with, "Better to ask where we aren't." She was wearing a shower cap made of transparent-pink plastic with a pink rubber band and a simple hooded raincoat made of smooth transparent-white plastic that had been imprinted with a transparent-black hounds-tooth pattern. She introduced herself as Jennifer and told Supergirl and Raghida that she had been the Amazons' prisoner for five years and that she had discovered enough to decide that Nealesvos does not exist properly on our Earth. "I think," she said slowly, as if trying to choose her words carefully, "that it straddles some spooky realm that has only small contact with our world."

Before she could say more a woman cried out, "Behold your queen!"

All of the women gathered in the meadow fell silent and turned their attention to the auction block. They saw Hyppolyte, carrying the transformer, climb the steps and stand on the slave-sellers spot. Then they saw Daphne and Thalia escorting a young woman to the block.

But for her shower cap, the woman was completely naked and she had her hands bound behind her back. She seemed to be having difficulty walking, even with Daphne, evil Daphne, prodding her. At the base of the steps she faltered completely and fell into a fetal crouch. Thalia simply picked her up and carried her onto the block, where she set the woman down crouching next to Hyppolyte.

"Yah, Allah!" Raghida whispered in horror. "It's an execution!"

"Behold!" Hyppolyte called out to the crowd. "Look well and learn, you slaves! This woman, this slave Dorigail, is guilty of devising a trap intended to harm her mistress. See now how we reward such insolence!"

Hyppolyte reached down then and touched the glowing end of the wand to the woman's valve stem. The woman appeared to go blurry and then snap back into focus with a loud rubbery whump. She was now a plump pink inflated plastic cylinder with her shower-capped head jutting up from one end.

"I will never ride a pool horse again," Raghida said, her voice breaking.

Supergirl began to cry along with all the other slave-women.

Daphne picked the woman up and held her up over her head. Then with a slap to her rear end, she propelled the woman, like a beach ball, out over the crowd of women. As the slave women knelt and wept, the Amazons cheered and batted Dorigail about, playing an impromptu game of freestyle volleyball with the hapless prisoner. Supergirl was sure that she would never forget the horror of listening to the keening of the slave-women, the delighted howls of the Amazons, and, worst of all, the rubbery thumps of Dorigail being batted back into the air.

That night Hyppolyte ravished Supergirl five times. Each time she took her helpless plastic prisoner with an excitement that seemed savage, arousing herself with such feverish intensity that Supergirl feared that she had contracted some disease. Each time she climaxed with spasms that were more like convulsions that left her gasping. By early morning she had exhausted herself and she slept until midday with Supergirl sitting cross-legged on the bed watching over her.

ggghhh

The rain began to fall just before dawn. Supergirl heard the drops patting on the leaves of the bushes outside the bedroom window and then the soft roar of the torrent coming down on the roof. As light began to fill the land outside, she felt Hyppolyte stir next to her and then put a hand on her belly. She rolled over onto her back, ready to submit to Hyppolyte's desire, but instead of mounting her, Hyppolyte merely rubbed her belly and fondled her left nipple. She felt herself growing warm and quivery inside and felt the pressure in her crotch growing.

"Uh, Mistress," she said quietly, "you're getting me really hot."

"Huh?" Hyppolyte said, as if she had been drawn out of some reverie. "Oh, so I am." She rolled onto her back and spread her legs. "Very well," she said, "you may satisfy yourself upon me."

"Oh, thank you, Mistress!" Supergirl said. She rolled over and mounted Hyppolyte, straddling her left leg. As she lay her head between Hyppolyte's breasts she asked, "Do you want me to get you hot too?"

"No," Hyppolyte replied. "Just pleasure yourself and be quick about it."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said as she grasped Hyppolyte's biceps and began to move her hips. "Oh, Mistress," she crooned, "You're so smooth and warm!" She squeezed Hyppolyte's biceps and said, "You're so big and strong! You make me feel weak and helpless!" Her voice was quavering now and the pressure in her crotch had reached its maximum. "And yet you are so kind to me! I...ohhh!" She climaxed and squirmed on Hyppolyte, then she lay still. "Oh, thank you, Mistress," she panted. "I love you so much!"

"Of course," Hyppolyte said as she laid her hands on Supergirl's back. "Now, come! It's time for us to face the day."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said as she slid off Hyppolyte and climbed out of bed.

After Hyppolyte had bathed and done her morning exercises, she got dressed and prepared to go to the public building. She took down from the shelves the plastic thing that Supergirl had thought was a spare shower curtain and shook it out, revealing it to be a raincloak.

Supergirl watched in fascination as Hyppolyte put it on. It bore a gold frieze pattern around the hem of its skirt, which hung to Hyppolyte's ankles. The gold frieze pattern was repeated around the hems of the capelet sleeves. It moved with a whisper-soft swish and Supergirl thought that she could feel Hyppolyte's warmth radiating from it.

After Hyppolyte left, Supergirl fantasized about the raincloak. She took off her own apron and raincoat and put on one of Hyppolyte's aprons. She stood facing the bed and imagined Hyppolyte lying on it, naked and wearing her raincloak. Then she pushed the apron's plastic into her crotch and rubbed it against her clitoris.

Several days later Supergirl waited by the large window in the front room until she had seen Hyppolyte enter the Athenaeum. Today she had delayed getting dressed after Hyppolyte let her out of her bouncing skirt and now she stood naked. She went to the bedroom and took Hyppolyte's raincloak from its shelf and shook it out. She examined it for a long moment, quivering inside as she did so. Then she put it on.

It was too big for her. The skirt draped over her feet and her hands barely reached out from under the sleeves. She luxuriated in the feel of the limp, skin-smooth plastic and savored the sense of Hyppolyte, hot sexy Hyppolyte, having worn it. She masturbated with it, lying on the bed and rubbing her breasts, her thighs, and her clitoris with the warm plastic. She got up only a moment after climaxing and walked around the bedroom, enjoying the sensations of the raincloak's plastic striking her own plastic skin and the swish that it made. She turned to make another traverse of the bedroom and felt a shock blast through her when she saw Hyppolyte leaning against the doorjamb shaking her head.

Hyppolyte sighed. "You tell me that you accept being my prisoner. You tell me that you accept being my slave. You tell me that you accept being my toy."

Supergirl bowed her head and said, "Yes, Mistress," three times.

"Then," Hyppolyte continued saying, "surely you must understand that my raincloak is not a toy for you to play with."

"But, Mistress," Supergirl said.

She fell silent when Hyppolyte came up to her, raised a forefinger in her face, and said, "I do not want to hear one more word out of you! Now come with me!"

Supergirl started to take off the raincloak, but Hyppolyte slapped her hands down. Lifting the skirt lest she trip on it, she went where Hyppolyte pointed, to the Athenaeum. Unshackled, Supergirl was able to match the pace that Hyppolyte set and all too soon came the Hyppolyte's chamber.

Left standing alone in Hyppolyte's chamber and knowing what was to come, Supergirl came close to panic. She thought of making a desperate try to get the transformer and then thought better of it. She saw what a good decision that was when Hyppolyte returned only a moment later and took a seat on her throne.

Trembling, Supergirl said, "Uh, Mistr...."

She was interrupted by Hyppolyte holding up her finger and saying, "Not one word."

Supergirl was trembling and starting to cry when Daphne appeared and told Hyppolyte that all was ready. Hyppolyte pushed Supergirl toward the punishment parlor. She was crying now and begging Hyppolyte for mercy, but it went all for nought. Hyppolyte pushed her into the punishment parlor.

Again all of the men were wearing vocalizers and the obscene catcalls came immediately.

In one last attempt to save herself, Supergirl turned to Hyppolyte and pleaded, "Please, Mistress."

But Hyppolyte merely pointed to the first man.

Supergirl knelt in front of the man as cheers erupted behind her. Trembling, she put her hands on the sides of the man's raincoat and slowly, reluctantly pressed her lips to its front. Immediately she felt something rubbery firm punch into the other side of plastic touching her lips and then it slid upward and struck her nose. It slid back down and hit her again. And again. And again. She heard the man moaning and puffing. She heard the other men calling out comments and suggestions in the filthiest language, words so foul that had they been material things their stench would have knocked birds from the sky. She heard the man that she was servicing muttering things that led her to believe that he saw her as a willing participant in the most obscene and disgusting fantasy. She felt her face being struck more rapidly. Because she could not close her eyes and could not focus them, she was compelled to watch what looked like two penises bobbing up and down in front of her. Then the man let out a humid groan and climaxed into her kiss. She saw milky-white fluid spurt up in front of her, felt its heat through the plastic, and then saw it vanish before it could begin sliding down the plastic onto which the man squirted it.

In this way she serviced all twelve of the men in the punishment parlor. Jojo seemed to take the greatest pleasure in humiliating her. When she had finished off the last man, she went to kneel before Hyppolyte. She was sobbing as she put her head on her knees and haltingly uttered the formula that Hyppolyte demanded of all punished women.

"Excuse me, Your Highness," Jojo called out. "I didn't wanna be rude or nothin', but when Supercunt was doin' me I took a sorta pause and didn't get finished. D'ya thing ya could send 'er back to do me right?"

Hyppolyte stepped around the crying girl and approached the man with a sweet smile. She punched him between the eyes, eliciting a yelp of pain. When he bounced back up, she caught him against her body, put her left arm around him, and punched her right fist deep into him, getting a strangled grunt. She bent her knees and slid down a little and the man pleaded for mercy. She punched a deep dimple into the front of the man's raincoat and was rewarded with a howl of pain as she connected with his genitals.

She gave Supergirl's buttocks a light kick to get Supergirl to stand up and get moving. She paused briefly at the door, where Daphne waited.

"Double punishment for all of them," Hyppolyte snarled to Daphne.

"Oh, yes, My Queen!" Daphne said with enthusiastic delight.

She turned to Supergirl, standing hunched over and sobbing, and pushed her toward the front of the building.

When they returned to Hyppolyte's bungalow, Supergirl, still wearing Hyppolyte's raincloak, threw herself on the bed and cried.

"I'm not through with you!" Hyppolyte said angrily.

"How can you be so cruel to me?" Supergirl wailed. "I've tried to be a good slave for you. I've done everything you've commanded."

"I did not command you to play with my clothing," Hyppolyte said angrily.

"You didn't command me not to," Supergirl sobbed.

Hyppolyte's face contorted in an expression of rage that quickly shifted into one of puzzlement. And then one of horror. Uttering an exasperated "Oh!", Hyppolyte stormed out of the house, leaving Supergirl sobbing on the bed.

After she had cried out her grief over losing her sense of security in Hyppolyte's custody, she took off Hyppolyte's raincloak, folded it up, and put it back on its shelf. She then put on her own raincoat and apron, and then moved her bouncing skirt to the middle of the floor. She even took her "punch me" apron from its shelf and set it on top of the skirt. Then she stood next to the skirt with her hands crossed over her crotch and waited.

When Hyppolyte returned several hours later, Supergirl hurried to her and knelt at her feet. "Please forgive me, Mistress," Supergirl begged. "I was wrong to yell at you."

Hyppolyte put her hands on Supergirl's shoulders and gazed into her eyes. "No," she said, "You were right. I did not forbid you to wear my clothes." She sounded chagrined. "It did not occur to me to think that you would want to do such a thing. But tell me, why were you wearing my raincloak?"

"Because it feels good, Mistress," Supergirl said. "It's soft and smooth like your skin. And it becomes warm like you when I put it against my body. And it has your essence in it, so when I put it on I feel as if you were taking me in a loving embrace."

"And," Hyppolyte prompted.

"Well, Mistress, it...uh, it gets me sorta hot."

"Yes?" Hyppolyte prompted again.

"And I, uh, kinda masturbate with it, Mistress," Supergirl said.

"I see," Hyppolyte said. She let out a little sigh and then said, "I have punished you for disobeying a command that I did not give you and thus I have wronged you." (And, no, she did not see the irony of that remark). "Unfortunately I cannot remove the memories from your mind."

"Uh, couldn't you change me back to normal, remove the memories, and then turn me back into plastic?" Supergirl suggested.

Hyppolyte smiled. "Too dangerous," she said. She took Supergirl in an embrace, hugged her, and whispered into her left ear, "But I give you credit for thinking of it." She released Supergirl from her embrace and said, "No, I will have to right the wrong I did you in some other way. And the only way I can think of is to allow you to play with my raincloak whenever I am not using it. I trust you will do nothing with it that will embarrass me."

"No, I won't, Mistress," Supergirl said and then added, "but, uh, Mistress, I sorta play with your aprons, too."

Hyppolyte drooped her head and let out a deep sigh. "Very well," she said, "you may play with my aprons, too. But," she admonished, bringing her right index finger up under Supergirl's nose, "nothing else! Not my dresses, not my jewelry, nothing more of mine are you to use as toys. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said happily.

"And...," Hyppolyte said hesitantly, "and tonight, but only tonight and only in bed, tonight I will be your slave. Do you think that will make up for what I did to you today?"

"Oh, yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. She felt her own raincoat become especially warm and felt the pressure in her clitoris rise. "Yes, Mistress. I want so much to make love to you!"

"And I, for my part," Hyppolyte said, "would like to see how you do it. Be mindful of this: so long as you do not cause any actual harm, whatever you say or do in bed tonight will not be cause for punishment."

So later, soon after darkness had fallen, they went to bed. Naked Hyppolyte got into bed on the side with the plastic pillowcase and Supergirl got into bed on Hyppolyte's side after turning the lights off. Supergirl lay quivering under the covers for a long moment and then rolled over to face Hyppolyte.

"Oh, one thing," Hyppolyte said.

Supergirl interrupted her. "Hush, my dear," she said. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I love you too much to want to harm you."

Hyppolyte stiffened, then relaxed and laid back.

Supergirl slid up next to her and put her right arm over her. "Now," she said, "at last, Hyppolyte, you are my sex prisoner." She felt Hyppolyte's warm skin soft and smooth under her touch and she came aroused. She mounted Hyppolyte, straddling her right leg. She pulled herself up Hyppolyte's body until she could kiss Hyppolyte's lips. "You are my soft compliant pleasure slave." She kissed Hyppolyte then and said, "You are my bedwarmer." With her left hand on Hyppolyte's right shoulder, she rubbed Hyppolyte's left breast with her right hand. "You are my clitoris rubber," she said. "Open yourself to me!"

Hyppolyte spread her legs apart and Supergirl slid her right thigh up into Hyppolyte's crotch. Hyppolyte was trembling now and Supergirl felt thoroughly hot. Supergirl slid down Hyppolyte's body so that she could kiss Hyppolyte's breasts and better rub her thigh against Hyppolyte's clitoris, which was already fully extended. She began to move her hips then, running her hands over Hyppolyte's biceps and running her lips over Hyppolyte's left nipple.

"Oh, you hot plastic witch!" Supergirl cried out.

She jerked as her clitoris released its pressure in hard, shuddering spasms. At the same time Hyppolyte bucked and squirmed under her. Then, like deflating balloons, they went limp and went to sleep.

The next morning Supergirl woke up to find light filling the room and Hyppolyte, her head propped on her right hand, gazing at her.

"Time to face the day, Mistress?" she said.

"I am not your mistress yet," Hyppolyte said.

"But day has come," Supergirl said. "You were only my slave for the night."

"And in bed," Hyppolyte said. "And we are still in bed. And I must fulfill my promise to you, even if we must bend it a little."

Supergirl put her hand on Hyppolyte's and said, "Then let's bend it this way. Let's make love as friends, at least just this once. No mistress and slave. Just two women who love each other."

Hyppolyte thought for a moment and then said, "Very well. We will make love." She lay back and waited for Supergirl to mount her.

Supergirl slid up next to her and kissed her. "I love you, Hyppolyte," she said.

Hyppolyte rolled toward her and kissed her. She put her right cheek on Supergirl's and whispered into her ear, "I love you, Supergirl." Then she rolled onto her back, pulling Supergirl on top of her. As Supergirl finished mounting her, Hyppolyte took the inflated woman in an embrace.

Supergirl ran her hands over Hyppolyte's body. "You are so big and strong," she said, "and yet so soft and warm! I feel so hot when you hold me!" She began to move on Hyppolyte.

"And you," Hyppolyte said in a whimpery voice, "you are so very pretty. And so sweet. I feel so hot when I touch you!"

Supergirl began to move her hips, sliding her clitoris on Hyppolyte's right thigh and rubbing Hyppolyte's clitoris with her thigh. Together the two women writhed together on the bed. Together they uttered desperate-sounding quavery moans. And together they convulsed in climax. And then they lay together for a time sharing each other's warmth.

ggghhh

A week later Hyppolyte came into the bedroom carrying a soft flattish package wrapped in a white cloth. She set it on the bed and told Supergirl to get undressed.

"Is this a new humiliation, Mistress?" Supergirl asked.

"Yes," Hyppolyte said, "but I think it is one you will like." She gestured at the package. "Go ahead and open it."

Supergirl folded out the cloth and saw skin-smooth, transparent-white plastic that was densely printed with opaque-white vine-and-leaf patterns. Little silver streaks served to outline the patterns and among the foliage, set as if budding from the vines, tiny pink renditions of her ess-on-a-shield emblem. She lifted it up and saw that it was an ankle-length sleeveless dress similar to the slave-girl dresses that the Amazons wore. A second piece came with it and she discovered that it was a matching hooded cape that would extend to her hips when she put it on.

"It's beautiful, Mistress," she said. "What's it for?"

"It's for my pretty plastic slave bride," Hyppolyte said.

"B...bride?" Supergirl said.

"Yes," Hyppolyte said. "I am going to marry you. We will then be 'in love' as you put it. Doesn't that make you happy?"

"Oh, yes, Mistress!" Supergirl said. She embraced Hyppolyte and hugged her. "Oh, I love you, Mistress. I love you so much!" She slid down to her knees and kissed the front of Hyppolyte's apron.

Hyppolyte gasped as she felt her clitoris begin to grow inside her. She put a hand on Supergirl's shoulder. "Now bridle your passion, my dear. You have not yet given yourself to me in marriage."

"Oh, but I will, Mistress," Supergirl said enthusiastically. "Will it be soon?"

"We will be married as soon as I can make the necessary arrangements," Hyppolyte said. "But for now let's see how well your bridal dress fits."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. She took off her raincoat and apron and then, trembling with excitement, put on the wedding dress.

ggghhh

One hundred yards above the meadow the creek spilled over a broad rock sill. Above the sill the creek filled a deep natural pool, for which the sill served as a dam. Along both banks of the creek, beside the pool porticos had been built and furnished. Here the Amazons came to play and to lounge. A net mounted across the sill kept their toys from floating away downstream.

Hyppolyte took Supergirl with to the pool and as they came up the trail Supergirl saw Dorigail, who had been turned into a pool horse, caught in the net, bobbing on the water. She tried to suppress her shudder of horror as she and her mistress walked onto one of the porticos and found a divan for Hyppolyte to lounge upon. Supergirl saw near the end of the portico nearest the Atheneum Bonnie, Fleta, and Benta.

"Mistress," she said to Hyppolyte, "several of my friends are here. Would it please you to grant me a little time to talk to them?"

"Yes, it would," Hyppolyte said. "I also wish to speak with my friends. Run along, but do not go out of earshot, lest you fail to hear my commands."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. Happily she walked over to the other women.

"...the hose into her valve, press the funnel against my butt, and queef her up," Bonnie was saying as Supergirl approached the group.

"Ah, Supergirl," Benta said when she noticed her. "Ve're yust talking about how much ve love our mistresses."

"Today's topic seems to be the best way to inflate a plastic Amazon," Fleta commented. "What kind of bad smells do you want to contribute?"

"Isn't this just a trifle premature?" Supergirl asked. "Or have I missed something?"

"It's vastly premature," Fleta said. "We still have yet to come up with a good plan for getting that transformer into your hands."

"Why specifically my hands?" Supergirl said. "Why not one of you?"

"Guaranteed to fail," Bonnie said. "Even Fleta would not be able to evade the Amazons long enough to rescue you and/or a big enough fighting team to make our escape possible."

"But vis your speed and power you can take da enslaver and vis-in half an hour you vill have all of da Amazons eager to kiss your ass," Benta said. "Nossing dey can do to stop you."

"I see," Supergirl said. "Well, if I come up with anything, I'll let you know."

She saw Sondra then, carrying an armful of fresh towels from the Hestion. She went to meet her by one of the portico's columns.

"Sondra," she said, "I haven't seen you for a while and I've worried about you." She noticed that Sondra kept her head down and would not look at her.

"That's kind of you, Mistress," Sondra said.

"Sondra, don't call me Mistress," Supergirl said.

"I am not allowed to do that," Sondra said. "I will be punished if I do not address all inhabitants of this island as Mistress. Do you want me to be punished, Mistress?"

"No, of course not," Supergirl said. "Look, we're trying to get us all out of here as soon as we can."

"To what, Mistress?" Sondra said, starting to cry. "Do you know what it feels like? To be so humiliated?"

"No," Supergirl said. "None of us have been treated as badly as you. But just hang in there. We are doing all we can. Is there anything that you can think of that we might do?"

"Please, Mistress," Sondra sobbed, "please, just go away."

Sadly she turned to go and caught just a glimpse of Thalia watching from a middle distance. Thalia seemed to be rubbing the front of her apron.

When she came back to where Fleta, Bonnie, and Benta were still debating the relative stinkiness of lutefisk and Limburger cheese she reported what happened.

"I think they have pretty much succeeded in breaking her spirit," Bonnie said.

"Not all dat hard for dem to do," Benta said. "Dat Daphne and Talia take her to bed and dey take turns playing vis her, sometimes all night and half da day."

"Then there are the kiss fights," Fleta said. "But hers are special. Wanna guess where she has to kiss me to score?"

"Eeeeww!" Supergirl exclaimed. "Wait a minute! The rules specifically state that you must score by kissing your opponent's lips. Couldn't you object?"

"Technicality," Fleta said. "The rules do not specify which set of lips must be kissed."

"Eeeeww!" Supergirl exclaimed again. "Why are they so cruel to her?"

"Now there's a question," Fleta said, "that would beat the crap out of any mind that got close to it."

"They're just plain nuts," Bonnie said. "Just a buncha refugees from the local bughouse would be my guess."

"Maybe not so hard to understand," Benta said. "Maybe dey are mad at her because she is in love vis Supergirl. She vants da qveen's sveetie and, hoo boy!, does dat ever piss dem off!"

"But wanting me and having me are two entirely different things," Supergirl said. "Surely they are not being mean to her just because she wants what they have. It makes no sense."

"They talk a good game of logic," Fleta said, "and they even play it reasonably well, but somewhere along the line there is something seriously not right with these dames."

Supergirl heard Hyppolyte calling her. "Gotta go!" she said and trotted back to the divan that Hyppolyte lounged upon.

"You didn't need to run," Hyppolyte said.

"Thank you for that sweet thought, my lovely Mistress," Supergirl said. "But I would run anyway because I am eager to learn how you want your favorite plastic prisoner to please you."

"You're trying to get me hot, aren't you?" Hyppolyte asked.

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said.

Hyppolyte got up off the divan. "Come, then," she said. "When we get home I will let you succeed."

"Oh, thank you, Mistress," Supergirl said.

ggghhh

"I don't know how you thought you could get away with humiliating me in front of my people like that," Hyppolyte said as she pushed Supergirl before her into the bedroom.

"I didn't mean to laugh," Supergirl said. She was crying and pleading with Hyppolyte. "Please, Mistress, please don't be angry. I'll make it up to you."

"You can't make up for what you did. Do you really believe that I can just go back to those women and pretend that nothing happened, that my slave-bride did not make a fool of me?"

"But...," Supergirl started to say, but Hyppolyte reached up and took the vocalizer off her and tossed it onto her chair.

"No more buts," Hyppolyte said. "Now take off all of your clothes and get into your bouncing skirt!"

Supergirl complied quickly and even went to get her "punch me" apron in the hope that the gesture would partly mollify Hyppolyte. As the skirt inflated, she put on the apron and then held it up so that Hyppolyte might more conveniently remove the inflator's hose from the bouncing skirt's valve. Then she put her hands at her sides in an attitude of submission. To no avail, she saw: Hyppolyte got the handcuffs from their storage and bound Supergirl's hands behind her back.

"I have taken the last of your insolence," Hyppolyte said with cold calm. "I bought you. I paid dearly for you. You are my toy and I expect to get nothing but pleasure out of playing with you." She stood close to Supergirl and poked her right index finger into her chest, making her bob to and fro. "Yet every time I get some enjoyment out of you, you cause me some vexation that spoils my pleasure. Well, no more. When I get home tonight I will give you a punching you will never forget. And tomorrow I will allow Daphne and Thalia to play with you before I give you back your Stupidgirl costume and turn you into a blowup pool pony. At least I will get some pleasure out of you in the pool and I can still fuck you in bed! And I will make your execution completely public! I will change you on the auction block!" She made as if turning to leave and then swung around and walloped Supergirl so forcefully that the not-so-mighty Girl of Plastic hit the floor with a whap. Then the witch left the room in a huff.

Supergirl bounced back up and rocked to and fro several times before wobbling to a stop. In shock, she trembled all over. She had not been so frightened at any time since coming to Earth. Then slowly, as if deflating, she bent over at the waist and, though no one could have heard, began to cry with deep wracking sobs. She had failed utterly. Now she was not even going to be a slave: she was to be turned into a completely passive plaything. The worst of it was that she had doomed her friends: there was no way they could escape without her. Sobbing and moaning, she knew that there was simply no way out of her predicament, that she was going to be an inflatable plastic toy forever. In despair she knew that she would cry for Hyppolyte, grovel before her, and beg for mercy and she also knew that only total humiliation of herself had any chance of satisfying the Amazon queen. She would swear on her Kryptonese honor that she would give Hyppolyte all the pleasure that she craved, if only Hyppolyte would give her one last chance to be her slave.

After several hours Supergirl dozed off and slowly came upright as air pressure won out over despair. She was awakened by the soft sound of someone coming into the house. She trembled with fear, recalling Hyppolyte's threat. But fear turned to puzzlement when she saw Sondra, naked except for her shower cap, come into the room carrying the transformer. Then she noticed that Sondra was no longer an inflated toy, that she had regained her natural flesh-and-blood form.

Working quickly, Sondra took the apron off Supergirl and dropped it onto the floor. She took the flanged deflator off the nightstand and pushed it into the valve of Supergirl's bouncing skirt. While waiting for the skirt to deflate enough that she could pull Supergirl out of it, she explained that the Amazons were all unconscious and would remain that way for some time. Then, hesitating at first, she took Supergirl into an embrace and kissed her firmly on the lips.

As she felt Sondra's warm body press against hers, felt helpless in her grasp, Supergirl felt warm inside and felt fluttery in her stomach. She felt the pressure in her clitoris grow again. She waited, part anxiously and part eagerly, for Sondra to tell her that she was now her plastic prisoner and would be pleasing her in bed.

Instead of gloating, Sondra began to cry. "I...I know what you must think of me," she stammered. "And I know there's nothing I can say that can make it right. But...but...," she said as she gazed deep into Supergirl's eyes, "I am so very deeply in love with you. I want you so much it hurts to think about it." She pulled Supergirl out of the partially deflated bouncing skirt and knelt before her, sitting on her heels with her head bowed almost to her knees. "I know I only deserve your scorn, but surely you could give me a reward for saving you that would also punish me for being so...." She broke into sobs then.

Supergirl knelt in front of Sondra. Her hands were still bound and she needed Sondra to free them.

Sondra couldn't look at her. "Please," she moaned as she reached behind Supergirl to free her hands. With her head on Supergirl's shoulder and her shower cap kissing Supergirl's cheek, she said, "Please, when you rescue everyone, please turn me back into plastic and take me home with you so that I can be your toy. Please. Just turn me into a punching bag and punch me 'til I pop, if that pleases you. Please!" She began to sniffle and weep quietly as she put the transformer into Supergirl's hand. "Please," she sobbed.

Supergirl didn't wait a second longer. She touched the butt of the transformer to the valve stem protruding from her neck and with a soft rubbery whump regained her normal form. She felt the world come back to her like a blurry picture coming into sharp focus as her senses extended. For a microsecond she became giddy as she regained her ability to feel Earth's rotation. She felt isometric forces buffet her muscles as superstrength flowed back into them and she felt another force trying to levitate her off the floor. Applying her will, she regained full control of her superpowers before any of them broke free of her command and caused damage. She employed both superspeed and supervision to see in a small fraction of a second that the Amazons were, indeed, all unconscious, though some of them seemed to have found some odd locations and positions for taking a nap.

Having thus assured herself that she and Sondra were in no danger from an Amazon counter-attack, she turned to a more pressing concern. She set the transformer on her "punch me" apron. Wary of her renewed strength, she gently put her hands on Sondra's shoulders, and when the crying girl looked up tenderly kissed her lips.

"I have known you for two years, Sondra, and I do like you," she said. "You're a sweet and beautiful woman. If you want me, I will love you. I will be your love-mate and you will be mine. But," she cautioned, "I will not make a toy of you."

With a sobbing sigh of relief Sondra threw herself onto Supergirl, hugging and kissing her. Feeling Sondra's naked breasts pressed against hers and rubbing them began to arouse Supergirl anew. Gently she returned Sondra's kiss and then pushed her back. "Come," she said, "We have work to do."

Using the transformer, Supergirl restored her costume and put it on while Sondra put on one of Hyppolyte's dresses. They tossed their shower caps onto a chair and went out into the night. It took only half an hour for Supergirl to enslave the islanders. Then she and Sondra began the task of turning the prisoners back into solid people again. That latter process took longer because it involved Supergirl's or Sondra's use of the enslaver to remove bad memories from the victims' minds and insert a false memory of an Amazon telling the victims of a plant whose fruit induces amnesia. In some cases they had to work together: when they rescued Dorigail Supergirl had to hold the hysterical woman gently but very firmly as Sondra used the enslaver on her and removed the memories that were driving her mad. Dawn broke before they were finished.

One of the first tasks they accomplished, before they rescued the other plastic prisoners, was the rescue of their crewmates. While Sondra went to get Raghida, Bonnie Faye, and Benta, Supergirl took the transformer and one of Hyppolyte's dresses to Arianna's house to rescue Fleta.

The house was dark as she approached it. Looking through the walls, she saw Fleta standing in her bouncing skirt. Otherwise naked, she had her hands bound behind her back with plastic handcuffs. Supergirl let herself into the house quietly. A quick little burst of heat vision turned the lights on.

"Mistress?" Fleta called out.

Silence.

"Mistress?" Fleta called again. "Are you there?" Then she started to sound frightened. "Who's there?" she called.

"Just your hot Kryptonian pig," Supergirl said as she came into the bedroom.

"Supergirl!" Fleta cried out. "And you're solid. Does that mean...?"

Supergirl nodded. "Yes, we control the island now. We're all going home. But about that pig remark...." She approached Fleta and tapped Fleta rhythmically on the chest with her finger to make Fleta rock gently to and fro.

"Oh, c'mon," Fleta said, "Don't tell me you're still whizzed off about that."

"Hey, some of us are sensitive about such things."

"But," Fleta said defensively, "You know I had to say something like that to make our act seem real."

"Maybe so," Supergirl said. "But that particular combination of words sounded like it took some forethought, a little special creativity...."

"But I'm telling you...," Fleta started to say. And then she sighed and said, "Well, I'm already a punching bag, so if you want to work off a little of that anger, I'm here for you. But before you bounce me off the floor, can I ask one little favor?"

"Sure," Supergirl said. "What is it?"

"Before you punch me," Fleta said, "would you at least untie me so it'll be a fair fight?"

Supergirl could only laugh. She slid the deflator into the valve on the bouncing skirt and untied Fleta's hands. She was still giggling a few minutes later when she pulled Fleta out of the mostly deflated skirt and she put the transformer into Fleta's hand.

Later Supergirl and her friends gathered in Hyppolyte's chambers with the few people who wanted to remember what had happened to them on the island. Sondra sat on Hyppolyte's throne and told her part of the story, of how she set up the rescue, though she left out the part about the kissing and the hugging.

"About a month ago, when she was in the forest, Thalia jabbed herself on a thorn and the wound was getting infected," Sondra said. "I told her that we had a medicine on the yacht that would kill the infection, so we went and got that big bottle of vodka that Mr. Veltergeist had stashed...."

She had used the vodka to clean Thalia's wound and Thalia had decided to add the bottle to the island's supply of medicines. She had already ascertained that she could get the transformer if she were inside the public building and no Amazons were there to stop her. It took a great deal of patience, but yesterday she had been told that the Amazons were having a gala and that she was to be the chief wine slave. It would be her duty to water the wine, in the Greek style, and then to enlarge the supply with the multiplier. So she substituted Mr. Veltergeist's odorless, tasteless vodka for the water and waited for the results.

"The Amazons had never had the experience of being drunk," Sondra said, "so they didn't catch on to what was happening until it was too late for them. Besides, the higher alcohol content of the doctored wine made them thirstier."

"So they went for more wine without knowing what they were doing to themselves," Raghida commented.

"Yeah," Sondra said with a wicked grin. "Sorta took 'em by surprise."

"Fair enough as far as I'm concerned," Supergirl said. "That's how they got us." She was glad that no one seemed to notice or to care that Hyppolyte, Daphne, and Thalia had gone missing along with all the kryptonite jewelry.

"One thing I don't understand," Sondra said to Supergirl, "is what was all the ruckus with Hyppolyte taking you home before the party ended?"

"I think that may have been my fault," Supergirl said. "You know, sometimes I'm not so sure I'm the brightest bulb on the marquee."

"Don't you dare pop off some wisecrack about dumb blondes," Fleta said.

Supergirl looked at her in astonisnment. "Yes, ma'am!" she said. "Anyway, I was standing there next to Hyppolyte's throne thinking that the Amazons seemed to getting a lot more boisterous than I had seen them before...."

The Amazons had been getting somewhat rowdy, not surprising considering what they were drinking. Suddenly the women sitting nearest Hyppolyte had begun speaking English, clearly wanting Supergirl to understand what they were saying.

"So," Ariadne had said, "what will happen, O Mighty Queen, when your pretty plastic bride asserts her right to question her mistress?"

Hyppolyte had growled, "It will go hard on her."

"Hah!" Daphne had exclaimed. "The only thing that goes hard on Supergirl is your clitoris!"

All of the women had laughed at that, Hyppolyte laughing the loudest.

"...and I didn't know whether I was supposed to laugh or not," Supergirl said. "I decided that I probably shouldn't, but then I heard myself giggle and Hyppolyte went bananas on me."

"You were supposed to play the role of the embarrassed blushing bride," Raghida said. "And instead you joined in the laughter at their dirty little joke like one of the boys."

"Don't blame Supergirl," Fleta said. To Supergirl she said, "I think your Hyppolyte is what we call a mean drunk. If it wasn't the joke, she would have gone crazy on you over some other minor insult. If it's any consolation, once she sobered up, she would have apologized to you and done something especially nice for you. Not because she would be ashamed of hurting you, you understand, but because she would feel that she had sinned by losing her self-control and that gaining your forgiveness and gratitude for the special favor would mean the reassertion of that control.

"Ja," Benta said, "but if ve had failed dat badly, I tink ve vould be seeing Sondra floating on da pool."

Understanding then what Sondra had risked in order to rescue them made Supergirl feel all warm and quivery inside. She wanted to take Sondra in her arms and kiss her. Instead, she was pulled out of her reverie by Bonnie.

"How are we going to get all of these people home?" she asked.

"Good question," Fleta said. "We can't take fifty plus people on the yacht and once we leave the island no one will be able to come back for them."

"So," Benta said, "ve vill build a knawrr for dem." Seeing the blank stares aimed at her, she explained, "You know, good old-fashioned Viking boat. Ve can build a fifty-voman knawrr easily in a veek."

"Or in five minutes if someone would offer a little superspeed help," Fleta said with a glance at Supergirl.

Supergirl shook her head. "You want a boat, not a pile of smoldering splinters. I think I agree with Benta's estimate."

"Ja," Benta said. "I have already assumed Supergirl vil hyelp oss. Odervise ve vill need monts to build da boat."

"Well," Supergirl said to Benta, "show me what I need to do and I'll get started tomorrow.

ggghhh

After the other women had gone back to the yacht, which Supergirl had refloated and anchored in the lagoon, Sondra had gone on ahead to Hyppolyte's bungalow, which she and Supergirl had taken for themselves. A few minutes later she saw Supergirl come into the bungalow with her hands full.

"I found your raincoat and poshaba-dalu," she said.

"My what?" Sondra asked.

"Your raincoat and..." Supergirl started to say.

"Yeah, yeah," Sondra said. "Raincoat I understand. But what's a posha-whatever?"

"Poshaba-dalu," Supergirl said, enunciating slowly. She held up the opaque-white plastic object resting neatly folded on her right hand. "Your punching bag."

Sondra blushed. "I'm not so sure I want it back," she said. "Those two bimbos, Daphne and Thalia, made me watch while they punched it."

"Well," Supergirl commented, "it is a punching bag."

"And...and," Sondra continued they made me watch while they made it kiss their crotches."

"Oh," Supergirl said. "But those memories are going to go away when we leave..., so let's give you a nice new one. Come with me."

She led Sondra into the bedroom, picked up her shower cap off the bed, and led Sondra into the bathroom. "You will have to be my towel girl for this," She said as she laid the punching bag on the floor in front of the shower.

"OK," Sondra said. She took the big fluffy towel from the rack and sat down on the commode. She pointed to the Kryptonese lettering just below Supergirl's name printed just above the bag's weighted base and asked, "Is that what that is? Po...shaba-dalu?"

"Yes," Supergirl said as she took off her boots. "It means something like 'sparring partner', although that doesn't convey the full flavor of the word. Poshaba originally meant 'worthy opponent' and only referred to those whose opposition to us was honorable and forced us to learn new things. In your case," she said, taking off her minidress and cape, "it would be more appropriate to call it a poshaba-shandu, a love partner."

"Not what it was meant for, was it?" Sondra said.

"I'm sure it's not what the makers had in mind," Supergirl said. "And I'm not offended by what you do with it. I'm actually a little flattered, if a little puzzled." She pulled down her indestructible panties, stepped her left foot out of them, and then used her right foot to toss them onto her costume.

"Well," Sondra said slowly as she gazed at Supergirl's naked body standing before her, watched as she slowly, sensuously, put on her shower cap, "when I first saw you I fell deeply in love with you. We were both - what? - sixteen at the time. I knew that I could never actually have you, so when these, uh, poshaba-dalus became available I absolutely had to have one. Well, actually, more than one: I have some spares at home. But I never wanted to punch it. Whenever I knew I would be alone in the house, I would take off my clothes and hug and kiss it and pretend that it was actually you. And sometimes, late at night, when everyone was asleep, I would sneak it into my bed and, uh, sorta make love with it."

"And now two Amazon bimbos have spoiled it for you," Supergirl said as she knelt on the floor by the bag.

"And they made me show everyone what I do with it," Sondra said. "I felt so deeply humiliated when you saw me masturbating with it."

"Well, we will all forget that scene when we leave," Supergirl said as she unfolded the bag before her and took the bag's valve stem between her right thumb and forefinger.

"We?" Sondra said. "Oh, but then you won't know...."

"Only if you choose to tell me," Supergirl said. "Otherwise it's stolen information and I don't want it." She knelt forward, put her lips to the valve stem, and gently blew.

She could have used her superbreath to inflate the punching bag in a fraction of a second, but she wanted to give Sondra time to savor the sight of what she was doing. In a way, it was like making love to Sondra and that thought made her feel warm and quivery inside.

She watched the flattened out bag begin to hump up as she blew air into it. She thought of the bag as a giant plastic clitoris and of her inflating it as arousing its owner. After a few minutes she felt the bag trying to rise and held it down with her left hand. She blew a little harder and the weighted base rose off the floor.

When she had blown the bag full and firm, she got up off the floor, allowing the bag to bounce upright and bump into her. Then she hugged it to her body and got into the shower with it. She soaped herself first and then soaped the punching bag by rubbing against it in a little hip-grinding dance. With superhearing she heard Sondra's breathing deepen and hasten slightly, so slightly that Sondra was likely unaware of it. She made certain to cover the entire surface of the bag with her soap dance.

When she had finished and gotten out of the shower with the bag, she dried herself and then dried the bag, again rubbing it against her body as she did so.

"There you go," she said to Sondra. "I've washed away all traces of Daphne and Thalia and infused the plastic with the purest essence of Kara Zor-El."

"Thank you," Sondra said a little breathlessly. "Bu...but what's a kara zorel?"

Supergirl leaned close to Sondra, gazed deeply into her eyes, tenderly kissed her lips, and said quietly, "It's my name." She heard Sondra's heart skip a beat.

She put her shower cap on the empty lunette, got dressed and then carried the punching bag into the bedroom and set it by the bed. Because Supergirl would be comfortable sleeping on a slab of cold steel, the two women had decided that Sondra should sleep in the bed and Supergirl would sleep on the sofa in the front room. After they kissed each other good night, they went to lie down for a well-deserved good night's sleep.

Supergirl lay on the sofa facing away from the bedroom. She did not want to be tempted to look through the wall: x-ray vision, she had discovered, is not an unalloyed blessing and some things are better not seen. But she could still hear and soon she heard the sound of cloth sliding over inflated plastic, heard a slight squonch of a hand breaking its frictional grip and sliding on that same plastic, and then a rustle of bedclothes shifting. She heard breathing deepen and quicken, then shudder and gasp. She was happy for Sondra and didn't wonder at all why she lay quietly on the sofa and cried herself to sleep.

She started early the next morning, gathering steel from the boats sunk in the lagoon to make the tools she would need. She flew far inland to find the trees she needed, cut them down, and shaped them into the pieces that Benta had sketched. She smoothed the wood by rubbing it with coarse stones and she drilled the holes that were required. She carried out the latter task holding the wood under the water of a creek lest it burst into flame: nonetheless the water in the holes boiled as she spun the drill between her hands. Once several pieces were finished she flew them to the beach near the yacht's anchorage and went back to create more.

As Supergirl brought the pieces, the stranded women assembled them under Benta's direction. They raised the keel and propped it up with beams embedded in the sand. They attached the planking, tying the planks with nylon rope that they had made by taking a rope from the yacht to the Hestion and putting it into the multiplier. Spreading more or less horizontally at first and then curving upward, the planking grew as a corrugated skin. Then the ribs had to be put into place and the wooden skin bound to it with more rope. They caulked it with chewing gum and palm fibers, augmented in the Amazons' multiplier, and fastened a steerboard and tiller off the starboard side near the stern. Instead of a dragon's head, they mounted on the prow a symbol guaranteed to strike even greater fear into the hearts of men - the ring-on-a-cross symbol of feminine power. All of this the women did.

And the men? Well, you know men. They were no help at all.

Five days later it was done. The knawrr floated in the lagoon. Tethered to the stern of the yacht, it sat lightly like a broad smile upon the water. The sun was just setting, drawing red and orange curtains over the western horizon.

Turning away from the beach, Supergirl and Sondra walked side by side up along the little creek to the Amazon village.

"I hope none of my professors asks for an essay on what I did on my summer vacation," Sondra said.

"I second the motion," Supergirl replied. "But one question still bothers me." She looked quizzically at Sondra. "Why didn't you enslave the Amazons yourself? You had all the opportunity you needed. Why did you come to rescue me first?"

"I didn't know how effective my 'medicine' would be," Sondra said. "And I was not sure that I had gotten all of them. I needed your speed and strength to ensure our success. Besides," she said nudging Supergirl with her elbow, "you're the one who's supposed to be the hero."

"Yeah?" Supergirl said. "Well, you're my hero and I...um, I was just sorta wondering...."

Sondra looked expectantly at her.

"Sondra," Supergirl said with a little quaver in her voice, "wou...would you like to take me to bed with you tonight?"

"Omigawd!" Sondra said. "Are you serious?"

Supergirl nodded.

"Yes," Sondra said, "Oh, yes. I want to love you so much!" Then a thought came to her and she asked, "But is it safe?"

"It will be," Supergirl said and then she explained what she had in mind.

Late that night, when the village was quiet and dark, Sondra and Supergirl went into Hyppolyte's bathroom with their shower caps. They undressed each other, put on their shower caps, and showered together. The sensation of being embraced by Sondra so that Sondra could rub soap lather over her body made Supergirl begin to feel warm and fluttery inside. And when they dried each other the feel of Sondra's breasts in her hands as she lifted them to dry the skin under them made Supergirl's clitoris begin to grow. They looked at each other with shy smiles and Sondra put up her hand as if to take off her shower cap.

"No, please," Supergirl said. "Please," she said in a pleading tone. "Please wear your shower cap when you play with me."

"Oh, yeah, ok," Sondra said in bewilderment as she put her hand down. "Bu...but why?"

"You were wearing it when you first kissed me," Supergirl explained, "and the first time you pressed your naked body against mine and made me want you. And you were wearing it when you rescued me from a fate worse than anything I can imagine. Now, when I see you wear it, I get so hot I can't wait to have you on top of me...in bed."

The pressure in her crotch grew especially fast, seeing that Sondra, pretty, naked Sondra in her shower cap, was staring at her with open lust. She took Sondra's hand and led her into the bedroom. There Sondra put on the satiny purple bathrobe that they had found on the yacht and then put her raincoat on over it.

Then Supergirl went behind Sondra and knelt down. Sliding her arms around Sondra's legs, she firmly kissed her right buttock and then kissed the left one as well.

"Supergirl, stop kissing my ass," Sondra said. Then, as Supergirl got up and came around to face her, she said, "Omigawd, I can't believe I just said that! I can't believe that those words came out of my mouth in that combination."

"I did that accidentally as Linda," Supergirl told her, "and I felt kinda strange, so I wanted to do it again to see if I would feel strange again."

"Did it work?" Sondra asked.

"It made me feel hot again," Supergirl said as she ran her hand over Sondra's left breast.

"Now you're getting me hot," Sondra said.

"I certainly hope so," Supergirl said as she put her hands on Sondra's biceps. "You're my hero. You're so big and strong...and so very pretty." Then she kissed her.

Very gently, aware that her superstrength was still dangerous to Sondra, Supergirl leaned up against her and luxuriated in the sensations that her supersensitive touch brought to her. She felt Sondra's belly pressing smooth warm plastic against her naked skin, felt Sondra's breasts, rising and falling with her breathing, rubbing that same soft plastic against her own breasts. She felt the soft prickling in her nipples as her breasts tightened and she felt her clitoris grow and harden as it slid forward in its sheath and its forward end came out of her body. She quivered inside and her heart beat rapidly, as if she were facing some kryptonite-spewing monster. Taking a deep breath, she puffed out her belly and took a half step away from Sondra.

Quickly Sondra picked up the transformer and touched its glowing tip to a spot an inch below Supergirl's right ear. With a whump Supergirl turned back into a living plastic doll. While Sondra put the transformer back onto its holder, Supergirl put on the vocalizer and then put on her raincoat.

Sondra looked Supergirl over. "Oh, Kara, you are so pretty in blue plastic," she said. She slipped off the bathrobe and let it fall, still inside her raincoat, onto the floor. She embraced Supergirl and savored the warmth of her raincoat's plastic. For several long moments she held that embrace and Supergirl hugged her and kissed her.

"Are you nervous?" Sondra asked as she ran her right hand over Supergirl's back and savored the feel of her raincoat.

"No," Supergirl replied. "Well, a little. But I know that you will be gentle with me." She felt Sondra's breathing suddenly deepen.

When Sondra released her, Supergirl went to the bed. Looking coquettishly over her left shoulder, she opened her raincoat and let it slip to the floor. Then she got into bed and rolled over to lie on her back.

Sondra turned out the light and got into bed. Supergirl could hear her breathing and waited. When she was just about to reach over to touch Sondra, she felt Sondra's right hand on her belly. Sondra was panting as she rolled over to face Supergirl.

"I love you, Supergirl," Sondra said in a quavery voice.

Supergirl rolled a little to her right and put her left hand around Sondra's right shoulder. "I love you, Sondra," she said, "and I want you."

Sondra mounted her, rolling over on top of her and sliding her right leg between Supergirl's thighs. She scooched up a bit until her thigh was pressed firmly into Supergirl's crotch.

As she felt Sondra's hot rubbery thigh press against her labia and the sides of her thighs, Supergirl felt the pressure in her clitoris go up higher than she had ever felt it before. She was trembling all over as Sondra slid her right arm around her waist and touched her buttocks.

"Oh, you're so soft and warm!" Sondra said breathlessly.

Then Supergirl noticed Sondra's face looming in front of hers, nose to nose, and half expected to hear Sondra gloat over her as Hyppolyte had done. She had made herself helpless for Sondra and was now the bigger woman's plastic prisoner, her weak inflatable slave, her helpless balloon doll, her soft, warm blowup toy. What would she do if Sondra decided to keep her as her personal sex toy? She looked into Sondra's eyes and, quivering with excitement, waited to learn her fate.

In a quavery voice, Sondra said, "Oh, I love you so much!" Tilting her head, she kissed Supergirl tenderly on the lips.

"Oh, Sondra!" Supergirl said. She was astonished to hear the vocalizer render her words as if she, too, were panting from lust. "Oh, my big, strong Sondra!" She slid her arms around Sondra and caressed her buttocks.

Sondra put her left cheek on Supergirl's, kissed her neck, and began moving, rubbing her clitoris against Supergirl's right thigh and rubbing her thigh against Supergirl's clitoris. "Oh, my Supergirl!" she moaned over and over. Then her utterances became long quavery "Ohs" and Supergirl echoed them as the two women writhed together. Then the pressure in their crotches detonated, shuddering their bodies with long, hard spasms.

Supergirl felt as if she were trying to levitate off the bed. She became intensely aware of Sondra's softness and warmth holding her down and grew all the hotter.

Then it was over and Sondra lay panting on Supergirl and Supergirl felt the flash of heat from Sondra's post-coital blush. After several minutes Sondra moved as if to get off Supergirl, but Supergirl tightened her embrace.

"No, please," Supergirl whispered, pressing her lips against Sondra's left ear. "Please, sleep on me. At least for a little while."

"'K," Sondra muttered. And she dozed off.

Supergirl slowly ran her hands over Sondra's back and listened to her breath. She felt Sondra's belly press gently into hers in rhythm with Sondra's breathing. She felt Sondra's moist warmth on her skin and drifted into a reverie.

On her home world many young men and women had life-long love affairs with members of the same sex. A small fraction of those affairs led to marriage. At the time that a meteoroid storm had destroyed Argo City Kara Zor-El had been just beginning to develop a love affair with Nori Klev-Tuk, but, while she liked Nori and believed that she would enjoy going to bed with her, she never believed that she would marry a woman. Now, though, she thought differently. Yes, Dick Malvern was a very nice young man, but now she was certain that, had Earth's laws and customs allowed it, she would marry Sondra. Then Sondra let out a little sigh and, for the first time in the four years that had elapsed since she had come to this strange planet, Supergirl felt warm and well-loved.

Some time later Supergirl reached up, reluctantly and tenderly, took Sondra's shower cap off her, and laid it on top of the covers.

The next morning Supergirl woke up to find Sondra back on Hyppolyte's side of the bed smiling at her. Then she saw that Sondra had put her shower cap back on. "Oh, Sondra!" she moaned as she rolled over onto her back.

"No, no," Sondra said. "It's your turn to be on top. I taught you my rhythm last night. Now you must teach me yours."

"But I can't," Supergirl said. "I'm not heavy enough or strong enough to do you any good. I could certainly enjoy it myself: that's what I did on Hyppolyte a coupla times. But you wouldn't feel enough force to get any benefit: that's how I got away with playing with Hyppolyte most of those times."

"I see," Sondra said. "Wait here, my love." She slid out from under the covers, piled more blankets onto the bed for their weight, then got back into bed. She pulled Supergirl to her, gazed deep into her eyes, and said firmly, "Now, Supergirl, you are my plastic prisoner!"

"S-Sondra?" Supergirl stammered. She wondered if Sondra had decided after all to keep her as a toy.

"Do not question your mistress!" Sondra said. "You are my helpless inflatable slave-girl and you must do whatever I command."

"Y-yes, Mistress," Supergirl said in a quavery voice. She was starting to feel hot again, as she had felt whenever Hyppolyte had played with her.

"Now, get on top of me and give us both a nice hot love rub," Sondra said.

Trembling, Supergirl mounted Sondra and found that she had somehow acquired the strength necessary to push her right thigh into Sondra's crotch, to embrace Sondra, and to move on her in the way that would stimulate them both. She did all of the things that she knew would arouse Sondra, kissing her, touching her, and saying the things that only women in love can say. She found that she was getting aroused herself, that the pressure in her crotch was increasing with every thrust of her hips.

Soon both women were uttering tremulous cries that only vaguely sounded like professions of mutual love. Then, when Supergirl thought that the pressure behind her clitoris couldn't go any higher, she and Sondra climaxed, the pressure being released in hard spasms that had the women writhing and squirming together under the covers.

When it was over, when both women had ridden out their mutual soulquake, Supergirl lay on top of Sondra and planted tender little kisses on her lips, nose, and cheeks. Sondra endured this treatment for nearly a quarter hour before she threw back the covers and Supergirl felt cool air on her back.

"C'mon," Sondra said, "It's time to go."

"Yes, Mistress," Supergirl said. She was trembling as she got out of bed and watched Sondra bound out of the bed beside her. She saw the transformer, her salvation, only a few feet away and knew that she could not reach it and use it before Sondra grabbed her. Well, she thought, at least Sondra is a nice mistress. She stood submissively by the bed and waited for Sondra to let the air out of her.

"Hey, Kara, let's go!" Sondra said, patting her on the fanny. "We don't want to miss our boat!" She handed Supergirl the transformer and said, "And don't call me Mistress!"

"Yes, Mist-, uh, Sondra," Supergirl said. She took off her vocalizer and pressed the butt of the wand to the valve stem jutting from the back of her neck. She heard the now-familiar rubbery whump and felt superpower flow into her in a rush. She put the transformer into its box, took off her shower cap, and got dressed.

"You know," she said to Sondra, "for a few minutes there I thought that you had decided to let the air out of me and take me home with you as your toy."

"What!?" Sondra said in astonishment. "What could make you think such a thing?"

"Well," Supergirl said, "I sorta got suspicious when you told me that I am your plastic prisoner and then I got a little more suspicious when you insisted that I am your inflatable slave-doll."

"Oh, that," Sondra said with a chuckle. "That's just a little trick I got from Fleta."

"So I can thank Fleta for you scaring the whuzzvash out of me?"

"Oh, no, no," Sondra said. "When I was with Daphne and Thalia, they told me that I had to address even slaves as 'Mistress'. That was part of my humiliation, that I was even a slave to a slave. Well, one day I was bringing towels to the pool and Fleta was there. We had only a few seconds alone together and Fleta said to me, 'You have got to find some way to get us out of here'. I said, 'yes, Mistress', and felt kinda strange all over. But later on I discovered that I could do things that I couldn't do before."

"I'm not quite following you," Supergirl said.

"Remember how they told us that we would only have enough strength to do what our mistresses commanded us to do?"

"Yes," Supergirl said. "Oh, I see. By making you a slave of slaves, they gave Fleta the power to give you strength."

"Right," Sondra said, "so I used the same trick to give you the strength to make love to me." She took Supergirl in a loving embrace. "But, you know, I had to hide the fact that I could do things that my captresses had not ordered. I don't know how you do it, but all I could think of for those long weeks was that I had to be Linda. You're an inspiration in more ways than I can count." She kissed Supergirl then.

"I will never stop loving you, Sondra Minderflyss," Supergirl said and kissed Sondra.

"And I will never stop loving you, Kara Zor-El," Sondra said.

But it was time to go, so they left, Sondra taking the red velvet bag containing hers and Linda's raincoats and shower caps and Supergirl taking one last load of boxes to the yacht before flying off into the sky. On the beach Sondra and her companions were just preparing to push the yacht's dinghy into the water when Linda ran out of the forest and across the beach to join them. Fleta rowed them all out to the yacht.

An hour later they hoisted anchor and Fleta guided the yacht back through the gap in the reef. In the knawrr Benta had the tiller in hand and kept the craft moving straight behind the yacht. When Fleta heard Benta call out "All clear astern!" she opened the throttles and headed out to sea.

ggghhh

It was Linda's turn at the helm. The night was calm and she knew that no sudden tempest would come up to blow them off course. She took a quick x-ray peek below decks and saw Sondra in her cabin, nestled naked against her Supergirl punching bag. She felt her heart leap when she noticed that Sondra was wearing her shower cap. She knew that she would provide Sondra with a token of her love, something that Sondra would surely enjoy. She would have to use the matter transformer in her cousin's Fortress of Solitude and she would need a pattern to give the machine. Fortunately she knew of a highly skillful but rather shy artist who lived in Kandor, someone that the Earth people might call Mister X. He would make the pattern and the machine would make the gift from the same supersoft, rubbery smooth, supertough plastic that she had used to make her raincoat. She would give Sondra an inflatable punching bag with the life-sized image of naked Supergirl on it. And under her name, just above the weighted base, she would print the word poshaba-shandu. Yes, that would be the perfect love gift.

She then checked the bilge, where a waterproof container, lined with lead just in case, held the pseudo-kryptonite jewelry from the island along with the enslaver and transformer. Two other containers were hidden with it.

In one, Daphne and Thalia, deflated and neatly folded, rested with their dresses, raincloaks, aprons, and a pair of pink plastic nighties. Two other pink nighties had been turned into inflatable bouncing skirts and packed with them. When she solved the problem of limiting her superpowers and obtained a secure playhouse for her and Sondra she would present Sondra with her erstwhile tormentors so that she could play with them.

She had also packed something special for herself. She had brought Hyppolyte's dresses, raincloak and aprons, and the "punch me" apron along with Fleta's black plastic bouncing skirt. She had also packed the plastic wedding gown that had been created for Supergirl's final humiliation, intending to wear it when she made Hyppolyte, in the names of Athena, Artemis, and Hestia, marry her to Sondra. Hyppolyte herself, deflated and neatly folded, lay on top of the collection. Linda felt warm at the thought of blowing up her erstwhile captress and allowing the plastic woman to continue using her for a punching bag. "After all," she thought, "I was bought and paid for and she really should get her money's worth from me."

Linda smiled at that thought as she guided the yacht over the night-cloaked sea.

ggghhh

The Wise Guys' Journal of Physics and Chemistry

Kryptonite, true and false

theory by Alexei Luthor,

Inmate #19460403,

Lenape-Hoking State Prison, Ossining, LH 10111.

OK, you mugs, pay attention to this. Before any of you wise guys goes any further with the ever-so-popular experiments at making synthetic Kryptonite let's review what we know of the real stuff. Thanks to our own studies and to information that Superman has provided through his fool-friends at the Daily Planet, we have the following information:

1: Kryptonite is a nickel-iron alloy unique to the planet Krypton. I won't bore you with the actual composition because I have given it elsewhere and because the magic of Kryptonite, what makes it useful in ridding us of those Kryptonese do-gooders who meddle in out affairs, is not chemistry: it's physics.

2: Kryptonitic radiation comes in two varieties that we know of. Both kinds affect the Kryptonese primarily in the nervous system and both are not what we see.

A: Green Kryptonite is the more common variety. The band of radiation responsible for this form interacts with the electronic structure of the nickel content of the mineral and loses part of its energy in the emission of the famous green glow. Because the mineral is also a metal, the overall impression we get under natural light is of a metallic-green material. The effects of this band of radiation on Kryptonese are loss of superpowers, pain, paralysis, and eventually death.

B: Red Kryptonite is the less common variety. The band of radiation responsible for this form interacts with the electronic structure of the iron content and loses part of its energy in generating a red glow. This stuff affects Kryptonians by inducing psychosis, usually involving vivid hallucinations that the victim takes as entirely real. Some of you guys think it's funny to dump some of this stuff on Superman and watch him make a fool of himself, but I don't envy the mug who does it with the piece that turns him into a maddog killer.

Please note also that both varieties of kryptonitic radiation have a range of about 100 feet (31 meters). This tells me that the radiation consists of virtual particles that are each very much less massive than an electron. Further, although that low mass makes the particles very large, they have very low cross sections for absorption by all materials, except lead, which has a very high absorption cross section. Even a thin dispersion of lead, as in paint, is sufficient to stop the radiation completely

3: Natural Kryptonite was produced in the explosion of the planet Krypton, a planet of a red subgiant star that is so far unidentified (we're looking for Right Ascension and Declination here, guys and gals). The explosion imposed a unique array of shock planes in the mineral and we have been able to duplicate those (so far, so good).

4: This is the speculative part. What I'm offering is merely a hypothesis, but it's the best we can do for now and it may lead us to the truth later. We know that the explosion of the planet Krypton was the chief by-product of a catastrophic chain reaction instigated in the planet's uranium-rich core by some as-yet-unidentified phenomenon. Superman says that his father associated the explosion with a ghost comet that he had been tracking.

We know nothing for sure about that so-called ghost comet except that it passed into the planet quickly, in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. That implies a non-material phenomenon, but one that can catalyze nuclear fission. I'm going way out on a limb here, but we've got to start somewhere. I'm guessing that some time in the past an alien starship came into the Krypton system, had an accident, and exploded as it was coming out of hyperspace. The resulting tear in the spacetime continuum acted as a soliton of hyperwave particles that catalyzed Krypton's explosion and brought the planet's mantle material into contact with an alternate universe whence the infamous radiation emanates.

The chief difficulty in creating artificial kryptonite consists in making appropriate contact between the alloy and the spooky realm whence it draws its radiation. Overcoming this difficulty is essential if we are ever to have sufficient kryptonite available to rid us of those pesky Kryptonese do-gooders who make life so difficult for us.

This is not to say that our so-called failures have been entirely useless. "Beakers" Goldstein has discovered that artificial kryptonite from Formula #386 can be ground up and dissolved in chloroform and that in that form it has a temporary disabling effect upon the Kryptonians' superpowers. Just as cold chlorine gas forms a solid hydrate when put into contact with water, Kp-386 dust (particles less than one micron in diameter) when added to chloroform forms a chloroformate that is self-atomizing when the excess chloroform is allowed to evaporate, as, for example, from a cloth held over a certain girl's nose. (See "The Perils of Supergirl - Part 1" by unbutolv).

This story was inspired by the Superman story in Action Comics #235 ("The Super Prisoner of Amazon Island", Dec 1957) and the Supergirl story in Action Comics #342 ("The Day Supergirl Became an Amazon", Oct 1966). Do I really need to point out that it is a parody that plays on the bondage-and-discipline themes implicit in those comic strips? No? I thought not. - TdC.