Three Weeks Earlier
“You really sure about this? It’s not too late to back out.”
Powerfilly wasn’t shy about her confidence in Scootaroll’s latest test of her powers. The fluctuation he recorded on a near daily basis was a great concern, but Babs Seed never showed that on her face. She could always fly, just faster on some days, slower on others. She was always strong, as strong as her big sis—her cousin, Supermare.
Except yesterday. Yesterday, Scootaroll recorded her strength as only being half that of Supermare, which was still less than Supermare’s actual blood relative.
“These tests are important, Babs. Please try and take them seriously,” Scootaroll’s tired voice spoke from the mic system, while the teenage pegasus colt sat safely away at his desk, three monitors ready to display what he was sure would be the latest new readings on Powerfilly’s abilities. Scootaroll could only hope to Celestia that the variances this time wouldn’t be as drastic as they had a history of being.
“Just trying to be nice. I mean, if we wanted to really test out my powers again, shouldn’t I be sparing with someone who can handle taking a punch from me? Ah, no offence though,” Powerfilly added.
Mare-Do-Well, of course, didn’t respond. Babs understood that the whole Mare-Do-Well gimmick of being a dark and foreboding figure included that Sweetie Belle only spoke when absolutely necessary. It was meant to unnerve the criminals Sweetie would go after, because any pleas of mercy or threats of violence would never be answered. It didn’t work well on her, as Babs already knew the person under the mask.
Her curiosity at how nervous Sweetie might have been in sparring with her led Powerfilly to use x-ray vision. She was happy it worked, but surprised to see the Mare-Do-Well costume was lined with something that blocked her x-ray vision.
Mare-Do-Well did however respond with her actions, taking a fighting stance, silently beckoning Powerfilly to make the first move. The two were several feet away, and Powerfilly was already beginning to float off the ground in preparation for flying.
“Well, if you’re so sure.” Powerfilly said, before launching herself at the young masked heroine.
Her fists were extended as she flew right for Mare-Do-Well, looking to tackle Sweetie and pin her down quick. She believed this would be over before Mare-Do-Well could even have a chance to put up a fight.
“Babs stop!” Scootaroll’s voice shouted from behind Powerfilly. She turned her head back to the camera in the training room, confusion written on her face, but she was still flying for Sweetie, and never saw the masked heroine make her move.
Back in the control room, Scootaroll groaned. “Really, she fell for that?”
Powerfilly’s momentum kept her going, right into Mare-Do-Well’s outstretched cape, like a young bull to an experienced matador. The cape however, stuck to Babs’ face like saran wrap, and was quickly wrapped around the entirety of her head. Babs threw a wild haymaker, utterly missing the nimble, non-powered heroine, who started throwing precise jabs at Powerfilly’s midsection.
Babs growled, unable to see as she clawed at the cape, which clung desperately to her entire head. The jabs didn’t hurt, but she did feel a strong kick to the back of her knee that made her lose her balance.
A few quick punches connected to her covered face, and Babs responded by burning two small holes right through the cape with an impressive stream of heat vision. It gave her a few seconds to see that Mare-Do-Well was not in front of her.
Ignoring the cape for now, Babs brought both her fists to the ground, slamming it hard enough to make the room itself shake without making a crater in the floor. Wherever Sweetie was, she was going to have to struggle for balance too now.
Scootaroll fell out of his chair from the aftershock, dust spilling from the ceiling as his heart jumped in his throat. “Don’t break my lab, damnit!”
Powerfilly’s attack bought her time enough to finally peel Mare-Do-Well’s cape off her face, getting a much needed breath of air before turning behind her to the sight of Mare-Do-Well, three feet away and holding out a dime bag.
Babs stopped, eyes on the glowing sliver of green kryptonite, and felt nothing. No weakness creeping over her, no dizzy spell, no less powerful; all the things that reminded her that she wasn’t a real kryptonian.
“Fucking really?!” Powerfilly shouted, anger glowing red in her eyes as she reached out to smack the bag out of Mare-Do-Well’s hand. Like water, the masked heroine moved her entire body back in one fluid motion, giving Powerfilly a steel-toed kick to her chin as she rolled away.
Babs didn’t flinch from the kick. She kept the pressure up, throwing punches of her own now at a quickly retreating Mare-Do-Well. Not one of her punches landed, but Babs could see she was driving Sweetie to the wall. She would have her trapped, and the sparring match would be won.
Once to the wall of the training room, Powerfilly smiled triumphantly as she reached out with both arms to grab Mare-Do-Well, “Gotcha now!”
Mare-Do-Well responded with a right-handed uppercut to Powerfilly’s chin, leaving something sticky and wet behind. It was enough of a distraction for Babs that it allowed Mare-Do-Well a solid left punch to Powerfilly’s cheek, with Sweetie spinning out of the corner with the momentum of the punch like a trained boxer.
Powerfilly touched her face, pulling away black goo in her hand. Mare-Do-Well was already spreading the distance between them as she touched something on her utility belt.
“Explosive ge-” Babs tried to say, only to feel several small explosions hit her at once. Two directly on her face, with half a dozen more on her torso from earlier punches. She never once noticed…
“Okay stop!” The real voice of Scootaroll called out. “Sparring over! I got the results I needed!”
There was panic in his voice that cut through the ringing in Babs ears as the dust from the explosions settled. She wasn’t hurt, though her costume was dirty and scorched.
“Who fights with explosives?!” Babs shouted, rubbing her jaw as she watched Mare-Do-Well pick up her cape and put it back on.
“You use your abilities, I use mine.” Mare-Do-Well spoke coldly from behind the mask, nothing at all like the cheerful person Babs knew Sweetie Belle to be.
Babs didn’t appreciate the statement. “And Scoots, what was that about stopping right when the match started?”
“That wasn’t me,” Scootaroll said as he walked into the training room, one hand leaning on the doorway and another holding the handle of his forearm crutch. “That was Sweetie mimicking and throwing my voice.”
Babs looked shocked, turning again to Mare-Do-Well, who had removed her hat and mask.
“I’m as surprised as you are that you fell for that,” Sweetie said with a tiny smirk on her lips.
Babs was angry. Angry for being tricked and for losing the sparring match. “I’m so sick of these damn tests.”
“These damn tests are helping us get a handle on your powers,” Scootaroll said, taking a couple of careful steps into the training room of the JLA headquarters. “And it looks like your powers took a weird turn again. Super hearing should have helped you realize Mare-Do-Well threw her voice. You struggled to take off her cape when she wrapped it around your head. You didn’t break the floor when you punched it with both hands—”
“I wasn’t trying to!”
“But the kryptonite not affecting you is the biggest concern. Three days ago it hit you as hard as it hits Supermare, but a week before that it only slowed you down. Now, it’s not affecting you at all, and that’s a pretty dangerous situation.
“How is it dangerous if kryptonite doesn’t work on me?”
“Because you’ll never know when it will affect you,” Sweetie Belle spoke up, bringing out the kryptonite shard again. Babs flinched, but never felt any of the debilitating effects of kryptonite affecting her. “If you aren’t aware of your strengths and weaknesses, that is a dangerous situation, and you can’t always rely on punching your way through things.”
Babs clenched her fists, folding her arms under her large chest as she tried to keep her composure. She knew her friends were only trying to help, but the frustration from the truth of Sweetie’s words gnawed on her.
“We’ll figure this out, Babs. But in the meantime, you’re going to have to hold off the whole superheroing stuff, at least until I can work out what’s causing your powers to go up and down like this.”
“Why don’tcha just say your magic word and use the wisdom of whatever god it is that gives you wisdom to figure out why my powers are fucked up?” Babs growled, glaring at Scootaroll when she caught him eyeing her chest, again.
Scoots blushed and looked away, “That’s not how my powers work. I don’t know everything when I’m… that way.”
“Well if you think I’m just going to sit on my ass and do nothing while AJ is out there fighting everyday to protect her city, you got another thing coming.”
“Applejack grew up learning how to use her powers. You’ve only been on Equestria for six months. No one expects you to be at her level. Least of all her. I know she’d want the same thing for you,” Sweetie Belle said, her eyes full of concern for Babs as she could easily see how upset this was making her.
If she did, why isn’t she here to tell me herself?
Present day
Powerfilly knew she was flying into a trap.
It was obvious from the lack of armed guards in the supposedly secret prison. Only certain doors slid open at her presence, guiding the teenage superheroine along as she flew on. The walls blocked her x-ray vision, but with what she was not sure. Not lead, something she had not seen before. It was yet another cause for worry, not for her, but for the others.
She flew faster, and the electronic doors kept up, guiding her through the maze of featureless grey windowless corridors that made up the hi-tech prison. Trap or no trap, she was being lead to the right place—she could hear muffled cries getting louder with her super hearing.
Superfilly’s voice was the first her super hearing picked up on as she flew onward. She’d recognize her cousin’s voice anywhere, though she had never heard it garbled and… moaning. It didn’t sound to Powerfilly like her cousin was gagged, rather like something was in her mouth one moment and out the next.
The others could be heard in the same way: Scootaroll, Mare-Do-Well, even Supermare.
Shit, if they even captured AJ…
There was no further time to reflect on what it could mean if these villains found a way to bind and capture one of the most powerful heroes in Equestria, as no sooner did the worry enter Powerfilly’s mind that she was confronted by the reality of how this prison was keeping her friends held prisoner.
She stopped mid-flight as she entered a large empty room, stupefied at the one feature she saw. Expecting guards with hi-tech guns, wiggling bare toes welcomed her.
All at once, her super senses were assaulted. She could smell them from the entranceway, could hear the muffled moans from inside the wall all four of her friends in. She could hear the whirl of machine parts working tirelessly on their exposed, soaked bits. Scootaroll’s cock stood out thick and shinning with lube, his balls bouncing slightly from the mechanical attachment relentlessly jerking him off. He looked bigger than she remembered him ever being.
Sweetie was right beside him, shelved next to him by the looks of it. Her feet waved about frantically, the shine on them hinting that something happened to her feet. All their feet in fact, though there was nothing torturing them at that moment. All four had a shine to them that was abnormal. Their neither’s were a different story entirely, and made up the real reason Powerfilly was shocked into stillness.
Their clits. Supermare, Superfilly, and Sweetie-Do-Well, all had clits the size of strawberries.
Each of them were being directly stimulated, forced into orgasms so powerful that even without her super hearing, she could hear the pleasure behind the wall. In that moment, Powerfilly saw her older cousin, Supermare, squirt from one of many orgasms she was being subjected to. The machines working on her swollen clit made her ejaculation spray out with impressive force. Seconds later it was Sweetie’s turn, cumming just as hard from the attention of half a dozen or more thin tendrils wrapping around her enlarged clit, squeezing her mons together, while others tickled her exposed inner thighs. There was so much cum, it dripped down onto Superfilly, placed directly under Sweetie.
Her cousin was not enjoying the same treatment as her big sister or her best friend. The only attention she got was a suction cup on her clit, making it bigger than the others.
“What the fuck…?” Powerfilly whispered, her mind still reeling from everything she was seeing as she floated in midair, ignorant to the port door in the ceiling that silently slid open. Once she heard the prison doors behind her close and lock with several metal clicks, the trap had been sprung.
Above her, something huge slithered down, fast enough that in the time Powerfilly could look up with glowing eyes, the machine had already gotten behind her to dodge the anticipated heat vision attack that never came. Powerfilly turned to aim her ready attack at the head of whatever was trying to capture her, only to be blinded by a flash of sickening green light that completely staggered her. Not just stagger, it actually hurt.
Confused, she could not focus on defending herself as a mechanic centipede began to detain the superpony. Rows of legs became tight manacles on Powerfilly’s arms, folding her right arm behind her to keep it secure; the security cameras had caught on that Powerfilly was right handed. Her left arm was grabbed and pulled above her head, all while she shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut tight, her vision still dazed by the bright assault.
Ow! Fuck fuck that light… that was fucking kryptonite! That’s not suppose to work on me!
“You’ll never know when it will affect you,” Sweetie Belle’s warning from weeks ago came back to haunt Babs. If kryptonite was working on her again, it meant her powers were still in flux and unreliable. She had been unreliable.
The robot was still hanging from the open port, it’s many rows of legs lifting its long body back up, Powerfilly with it, so that her feet couldn’t touch the ground. They weren’t even given that chance, as the robot curled around the struggling heroine, its legs taking hold of her own, until it had Powerfilly suspended and secured, all be it squirming madly and cussing a storm.
The robot centipede was not done yet, as the tips of its many legs holding Powerfilly’s limbs all at once pierced her invulnerable skin with tiny needles, injecting several small doses of hot liquid kryptonite all at once into her body.
At this, Powerfilly opened her eyes and screamed. She had never experienced kryptonite in anything but a rock form, something she could move away from or have thrown far from her to lessen its effects. This was the first time experiencing it as light, or a liquid that was currently burning in her body.
As if sensing her distress, the centipede squeezed its legs harder on her, adding to her pain. With the kryptonite inside her, Powerfilly could barely put up a struggle. Her legs and arms felt stiff, heavy, and hot. She was beginning to sweat from the heat inside her that kept on building.
Excitedly, the robot clicked its four pincers in front of Powerfilly’s face, the tips glowing a sickening green. She tried to summon her heat vision again, but her eyes still stung. Sets of legs around her torso squeezed with immense pressure, making her work to breathe, eliminating the chance for her to take a deep enough breath to use her arctic breath.
“You fucker… you haven’t beaten me yet!”
Clicking its pincers again, the machine began to run its containment program that would prove Powerfilly wrong. The legs of the machine that were not holding the superheroine still had their point tipped-ends retract inside themselves, revealing an opening with half a dozen small holes. Tendrils, no thicker than noodles, snaked out of those holes, their entirety glowing with such an intense hue of green that it was hard to look at.
The nearest set of tendrils dove into the exposed teenage cleavage of Powerfilly’s costume. The moment they made contact with her skin, it confirmed her fears that the tendrils were in fact glowing bright with kryptonite.
They did not hurt, though.
It was the opposite, which took Powerfilly by such surprise that it halted her weak struggling. Tendrils wiggled into the tight space between her large breasts, tickling and caressing her, while two stray tendrils slithered under the material of her costume, seeking to coil around her hidden nipples.
Red-faced, Powerfilly let out a stricken gasp. Her nipples were hard. They had never been this hard, not even during the times when estrus flooded her with hormonal urges that no average stallion could satisfy. The mere contact of the kryptonite-empowered tendrils caused such a rush of sensations in Powerfilly that she did not notice the other sets of tendrils around her until she heard them begin to tear her costume.
“No! Fucking stop… you sick twisted fuahahah!!”
The tendrils were speeding up, and not just the ones diving into her cleavage. Behind her, two sets of tendrils were assaulting her feet, suddenly bare and exposed. She hadn’t noticed when they had cut the thick soles of her boots off, but with leg manacles holding her legs bent upward, the most she could do was twist her foot from side to side as those glowing tendrils tickled her. They wiggled between her toes, brushed over the upper arch of her feet in quick assaults, sparking powerful sensations Powerfilly had never known before.
She wasn’t ticklish. Her skin was invulnerable, explosions couldn’t stagger her, something like having her feet tickled should not have affected her. Even with impossible kryptonite appendages, she expected pain or extreme weakness to drown her senses and settle her into the void of unconsciousness. Instead, she was laughing.
She couldn’t stop laughing, and the quickening pace of her breathing made the legs wrapped around her midsection to tighten even further. It was getting very hard to breathe, but she couldn’t stop laughing.
The next assault sealed her doom. With her legs bent and spread, another set of tendrils went to work tearing away the small crotch of her costume, fully exposing her glistening sex. How and why she was so wet down there, she couldn’t guess. Kryptonite tendrils slid across her puffy lips, dipping into the tight pink folds of her sex, coaxing out her clit to wrap a single tight tendril around, while others pushed inside to wiggle against moist walls.
Between them, the intense tickling of her helpless feet, and the tendrils on her breasts, Powerfilly felt tears of frustration and fear streak her face as she continued to laugh helplessly. There were too many sensations for her brain to take all at once. Once another set of tendrils began to apply their tickle torture to her armpit, Powerfilly’s vision blurred as one massive sensation flooded her sweating body, erupting from her pussy in the most intense orgasm she had ever had in her short life.
The tendrils between her legs worked to extend the orgasm sensation, quickly forcing another orgasm to follow, and another, and another. The containment cell filled with her screams, saliva mixing with tears as her cum dripped onto the floor below her. She couldn’t get enough air, her vision darkening all around her, but not before Powerfilly could steal a glance back to the exposed feet of her helpless friends.
She thought she managed to say she was sorry, before the world turned dark and all sensations, thankfully, stopped.
Author's Note
Next chapter is being cleaned up. Special thanks for Schorl Tourmaline for helping with editing when no one else wanted to.
Author's Note
Warning, this chapter contains body modification in the form of clit expansion.
The Result
Two weeks earlier
“I’m sorry,” Applejack said.
Powerfilly’s heart hammered in her chest. She never thought she’d be worried to see the face of the woman she thought was her blood sister. As it was, she couldn’t bring herself to face AJ.
“Got nothing to be sorry for, unless you somehow control my fucked up powers.”
She heard Applejack click her tongue, and reminded herself that maybe she could hold back the swearing a little.
She still kept her back to Applejack. Standing at the edge of Sweet Apple Acres, Babs looked out to the city in the distance that was graced with the good fortune to have Supermare as its protector. A big, beautiful city filled with thousands of people whole loved the very sight of Supermare. When she showed up, it meant everything was going to be okay, and there was nothing for anyone to fear. Babs had felt that way when she first laid eyes on AJ, when she had first came out of her ship to be greeted by the only family she had left in the galaxy.
Except, Applejack wasn’t her family. They had no relation at all.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you. I make no excuses, but I want to start making right by you, and help you get a handle on your powers.”
Babs took a breath and held it, before turning to face Applejack. Unlike herself, who stuck to wearing her costume more often than not, Applejack was dressed in typical farmer work clothes consisting of worn work jeans and a long sleeve button up flannel shirt. The stetson hat completed the outfit.
“You don’t owe me anything. You got your real little sister to worry about now.”
Babs let it slip, and her heart skipped a beat. She looked away quickly, fearful of Applejack’s expression, mentally screaming expletives at herself for what she had just said. She had to leave.
“Forget it. Forget I said anything. I’ll figure it out on my own,” Babs spoke as she started to slowly take off from the ground. Still not looking at Applejack, and not wanting to hear whatever harsh rebuttal was waiting on the tip of Applejack’s tongue, Babs started to fly away, only to feel a woosh of air at her side, and the sudden appearance of Supermare floating in front of her.
The civilian clothes were gone, and the familiar costume was on. Supermare blocked Babs’ way, physically imposing as the sun shone behind her. Babs felt a twinge of fear in her stomach, but before she could back away, Supermare closed the distance between them.
Instead of angry words, Supermare spoke with actions, and wrapped her arms around Babs in a tight hug.
“That’s what this is about? You think you’re not still my family?”
The question was softly spoken, but it thundered inside Babs and reverberated in her bones.
“I… I ain’t though. We don’t share any blood. I’m not even kryptonian.”
Supermare squeezed harder, “Babs, blood doesn’t make family. Love does.”
Babs gasped, and felt her face heat up. Without thinking to, she embraced Supermare back.
“You’re my family. I decided that the moment I opened your ship when it crash landed here. And yes, I have a little sister now too. Far as I’m concerned, if you’re not my sister, you’re my cousin. Either way, you’re a part of my family now, and family is there for each other. I’ll be there for you, working with you to understand why your powers change so much. But I won’t be doing it alone, will I?”
That last part caught Babs’ attention as Supermare pulled away, looking past her. Babs turned her head to look back, and saw the person she had considered her replacement looking back at her, with the most heartbreaking frown she had ever seen.
Babs had not spent much time with Superfilly. It was hard to look at the redhead and not see her replacement as Supermare’s little sister. Seeing Superfilly floating in the air nervously, Babs had to wonder how she had allowed her jealously to poison her feelings so much.
“Ah do wanna help too,” Superfilly said, speaking with a stronger accent that Babs had never noticed until now, “Ah mean, if ya don’t mind me helpin’. AJ’s right, about love makin’ family and all, but that’s just words comin’ from me. Ah’d like to earn the right to call ya family, and the best way ah know how is to help ya figure out yer powers. Heck, ah’m still learnin’ to git a handle on mine, so maybe we could learn together?”
“I think it would be a fine idea,” Supermare chimed in, “If you’re okay with that, Babs?”
“Yeah…” Babs answered smiling a little herself. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”
Present day
Powerfilly woke as if from a dream, staring up at a plain white ceiling. Her arms and legs felt stiff, too stiff to move. When she tried, she found her arms and legs were being held firmly. She tested her restraints weakly, barely having the strength to tug, let alone struggle as she had before with the robot centipede. Her arms wouldn’t move, nor could she even open her fists. At the angle her arms were bent at, she had no leverage to pull her arms free, or even see how they were being held.
Her legs were a different story. Several thick robotic claws kept her legs elevated, her pussy on full display for the world to see, if she hadn’t been alone in the plain cell room. She spotted a black dome in the ceiling, no doubt hiding a camera that was getting a nice and center view of her pitiful attempts to move her legs.
Even the minor attempts at moving wore her out. She couldn’t see kryptonite in the room, but her body all over just felt, wrong. She remembered the sharp stings of the centipede legs injecting her with something, and assumed whatever they used to drug her up was still in her system. Powerfilly felt like she wanted to sleep, but it was that awful in-between feeling of exhaustion that doesn’t cross the threshold into proper sleep.
Her body still felt too warm all over. With a flush of shame brightening her face, she remembered how the kryptonite tendrils worked over her naughty bits, how they tangled over her feet and made her hysterical with laughter. The orgasms she had were cloudy in her mind though, a small mercy at that. They had been too intense for her mind to properly recall.
Panels in the floor below her suspended body hissed open, and a snake like robotic tentacle stood out, curving its slender body aim its smooth head directly at her exposed sex. It sported a small glass vial on its side, about the size of a jar of baby food, filled with a thick purple liquid.
“Don’t touch me… fucking perverts… where are you?” Powerfilly growled trying once again to pull and tug on her restraints. “Aren’t you man enough to fuck me yourself?”
There was no response from her challenge. Everything about this had been alien to her, nothing like the supervillains she and her cousins fought to keep Equestria safe. There was always someone gloating over them, or with a monologue to explain their master plan. There was always some element of predictability.
Here, there was only four white sterile walls, and robot limbs coming out of those walls and the floor. No one to argue or reason with, to tell her where she was or what was going to happen to her.
The latter though became very clear to her, as the smooth head of the robot tentacle revealed five small ports, each one opening to let free five thinner tendrils out.
“No!” Powerfilly cried, her body reacting on its own as it squirmed and twisted weakly. The idea of those tendrils forcing her to climax against her will again strove the captured heroine to push past the weakness in her limbs and try to fightback. Unlike before these tendrils weren’t glowing with kryptonite, and they had tiny black almond shaped tips that slowly turned a light shade of purple. Bubbles filled the glass vial protruding from the main tentacle body, as its contents filled the tips, which Powerfilly realized were actually small brushes.
At once, the five small tendrils began brushing their tips over Powerfilly’s exposed sex with slow, purposeful strokes. The sensation quickly began to make her pussy tingle, as whatever it was the brushes were spreading on her immediately began affecting her. Drugs weren’t supposed to work on kryptonians like her, making the experience she was going through all the more alien and scary to her.
Her pussy felt hot, the same kind of warmth that she felt during her heat cycle, only much worse. The solution left a shine on her pussy lips, helped no doubt by the betrayal of her body adding its own lubrication to the drug being painted on her. The brushes alone weren’t stimulating her, but the drug they spread made her wish they would. Powerfilly shut her eyes tight, biting her bottom lip to help ignore what was happening to her, her last measly defense against the machines holding her.
A couple of brush tips dipped inside her, painting the walls of her wet sex with that horrible drug. Powerfilly clenched her jaw tight, feeling her sex become much hotter. The tiny hairs of the brushes tickled ever so slightly, not enough to properly stimulate her, but just right for teasing.
“H-holy shit.. n-no… stop!” Powerfilly yelped as one of the brushes made contact with her clit. It lingered there, brushing small circles around it, spreading the drug compound all over her most sensitive place. She growled, shook her head to try and clear her thoughts as her toes curled. She didn’t have the most sensitive clit ever, instead getting more pleasure from the act of penetration, something for her strong pussy to squeeze around. Rubbing circles with her fingertips, or occasionally getting licked, those always just added to the pleasure, but never ultimately pushed her over the edge.
Now, it felt as though the way her body responded to pleasure was changing. Her clit was making her brain flash with nonstop sensation. It made the other tendrils work harder to keep up, brushing along her pussy, inside and out, faster. More and more of that drug solution was being applied, and a small glance showed that the bottle was barely starting to empty.
One hour remaining for treatment.
Powerfilly was startled, not just by the sudden declaration of a computer generated voice speaking from an unseen speaker in the room, but also by the mention that this was going to go on for an hour. Nothing in the white room looked like a clock, or gave any hint of the amount of time that would be passing by for her.
“You can’t… can’t be serious!” An hour of just this, brushes stroking her nonstop, would be too much to handle. Surely whatever drug that was in her system keeping her powerless would have to wear off in an hour? She tried struggling again, getting the same results with her tired, heavy limbs. She couldn’t close her legs, couldn’t move them even an inch. She couldn’t even pull her hips back, or squeeze out the brush tips wiggling inside her.
There was nothing she could do to save herself, to stop the brushes from coating her pussy. Her breath began to quicken as she kept squeezing around the brushes. The one on her clit continued moving in circles, applying coat after coat of the purple solution on her. Powerfilly growled, desperate for something, anything, to take her mind off the ceaseless sensations in her clit. She could feel every single hair tip on that brush, feel the layers of solution coated over her.
Frustrated, she screamed. Barely an hour into whatever twisted procedure was being forced on her, and she was already starting to lose it. In the back of her mind, Powerfilly knew this wasn’t the only thing that would happen to her. Whatever this treatment was, her cousins and friends had all gone through it already.
As a second brush tip joined the one working her clit over, Powerfilly recalled how she found the others stuck in the walls, their naughty bits and their feet exposed. Specifically, she recalled how the girls had their clits enlarged to crazy proportions.
“H-Help! Help!” Powerfilly screamed, finally breaking down at the thought of her own clit growing huge and thick.
“H-he-help…” Powerfilly moaned. Her labored breathing was almost loud enough to drown out the sounds of the machines as they continued to work on her clit. Feathersoft brush tips had been replaced by fast spinning brush wheels that were even softer. She couldn’t say when it happened, just that they weren’t stopping, and her clit was most certainly bigger now.
“S-stop… you bastards,” she whimpered, begged even to the unfeeling machines. Another brush tip worked directly over her growing clit, leaving almost no space of it safe from abuse. The drug solution that had been applied to her was already showing results. She could see it poking out more, a little smaller than her baby toe, for now at least.
It was just as sensitive as it had always been. The machines were precise, constantly providing non-stop sensation to flood Powerfilly’s brain, but not enough to make her cum out right. In the grueling hour she had been held captive, she was kept close to the edge of a powerful orgasm. Only to the edge, never all the way. The machines could read her body, slowing down whenever Babs got too close, speeding up when her mind cleared enough to allow her struggling to become more focused.
Whatever drugs she had been pumped with during her capture, they weren’t wearing off. Earlier she had tried to use her heat vision to blast away the mechanical arms holding her, but nothing would happen. She didn’t feel weak, as her near constant squirming and struggling had been going on well into the first hour.
What she felt was powerless. A strange, empty feeling of some part of her that was just, shut off. The machines were working to fill that emptiness inside her, figuratively and literally. Her attention was kept focused on the unending attention to her clit, she didn’t realize something new was in her pussy until it started wiggling.
Powerfilly screamed as something slender went to work inside her. She shook her head, eyes shut hard and tight, putting up what little resistance she could. The thing inside her squirmed, rubbing what felt like thousands of tiny feelers against the slick walls of her pussy, adding to the already constant bombardment of sensation being forced on her. She felt the edge of that long awaited orgasm coming closer, and the machines weren’t slowing down this time. Shamefully, she thrusted her hips against the machine between her legs.
Her body craved release, but her mind struggled to resist. A tiny voice in her mind begged her to keep resisting, but it was drowned out by the pleasure screaming inside her. Her pussy squeezed around the wiggling intruder, and the machine responded with two pairs of soft claws, spreading her open.
It actually helped Powerfilly to focus on that tiny voice of resistance. The machines wanted to make her cum, humiliate her as they had to her friends and family. Even if her body had wanted it for over an hour, she wasn’t going to give up and stop fighting.
“F-fuck you… I’m not giving in! Not t-to you f-fucking… creepy machines… or the ball-less m-mother fucker controlling them!”
It helped. Swearing wasn’t something a superhero did so much of, Supermare would tell her, but Powerfilly kept it up, throwing insult after insult as she glared at the single camera watching her. She yelled as loud and hard as she could, wrestling her attention to her anger, rather than her growing clit and drooling pussy. She called out the person controlling the machines again and again, and as they sped up, she yelled faster. She yelled every dirty phrase and insult she knew, things that would make her cousins blush, things that would certainly paint her as less of a role model for young fillies and colts to look up to. She started threatened the life of the person controlling the camera when the machines seemed to have enough.
The spinners on her clit hit their fastest setting. The thing squirming inside her pushed more of itself into her, filling her like a cock, spinning in time with the machines working on her clit. The rush of new sensations stifled her shouting, making her suck in air as the edge of that orgasm came closer once again.
“Nnnnh!! No,” Powerfilly gasped, panting for air and feeling sweat pour down her face, “I’m not giving in!”
The machines responded again, this time with the arms holding her legs apart. They had been motionless all this time, keeping a firm hold of her. Now, they manipulated her lower half, getting her to thrust her hips forward in short, rough thrusts.
The edge was getting closer.
“N-not g-giving in… Gahhh!! Can’t… give… in!”
She wanted to believe that was true. She had tried hard to make it true.
When she did cum, her regrets were drowned. The intense pleasure made her see explosions of color when she shut her eyes. All thoughts of resistance were gone from a single, powerful orgasm the likes of which she had never felt before. No amount of masturbating could get her this high, and no stallion was man enough to rut her like these tireless machines.
She wasn’t aware of how big her smile of satisfaction looked, but it stayed on well after her orgasm was over, because the machines were still going, and they were going to make her cum again.
The tiny voice of resistance inside her begged softly for her to keep fighting. Then the second orgasm hit, a mirror of the first, and there was no more fight left in Powerfilly.
By the time the machines had finished their procedure on Powerfilly’s clit, it had grown to be bigger than her big toe. Unknown to Powerfilly, the procedure itself had taken thirty six hours.
The brash young heroine was a mess, still in the same position she had found herself in after her capture. A set of three buzzing rings, lined with fleshly nubs, had been locked around Powerfilly’s modified clit, keeping her body on a steady schedule of orgasms. The structure of her body had been observed and diagnosed during the grueling hours of orgasm after forced orgasm. The machines knew how she worked better than she did.
Babs was in no position to even contemplate how her depowered body was betraying her over and over. Her juices and sweat, along with tears and saliva, had pooled under her suspended body. The air in the room was thick with the musk of scent and the weak groans of Babs herself. She was beyond tired, extremely thirsty, but she didn’t want the machines to stop.
Any thought of rescuing her friends was banished from her mind completely. She didn’t even want to be rescued. Every time an orgasm hit, she’d crave another. She couldn’t see straight anymore, nor was she aware of just how exhausted her body now was. The only thing she registered was pleasure, non-stop, powerful, and endless. There was no way for her to know how much time had really passed.
“Pl-ea-se… n-nev-er st-op…”
Another orgasm was building at that moment. As tired as she was, her body was growing more sensitive. The constant buzz on her clit made it impossible for that sensitivity to go down. She could no longer register how wrong it was to have it grown so large, bigger than she had seen on her friends for sure. It simply made her feel amazing, better than any feeling she had ever known before her capture.
When the next orgasm came, it nearly made her black out. Her throat was too dry for her to scream anymore, providing only hoarse groans as her head tilted to the side.
This time, the machines stopped.
The rings around her swollen clit detached, finally freeing it from any kind of sensation, aside from the phantom sensations that lingered on. There would be no escaping those sensations for some time. Mentally pushed to the breaking point, Powerfilly was only vaguely aware that her body was being lowered gently on the cold floor. The chill was welcoming to her hot skin and sweat-soaked costume. The only displeasure came when the metal clamps on her arms and legs released, her stiff limbs unbearably sore.
She had finally been released, but she couldn’t move a muscle.
With the machines having finally stopped, her body was allowed to tell her brain just how much it hurt all over. Hours of muscle contraction from non-stop orgasms had taken a toll on her. Her breathing had slowed to short gasps. Still, she craved another hard, forceful cum.
She tried to speak, but no words would come. Exhaustion had been held at bay for far too long, and it was catching up to claim Babs at last. Before her vision turned black, she thought she saw a section of the wall of her room open. She would be out cold only seconds before finally meeting the villains responsible for her capture and torture.
She would have been surprised to learn it wasn’t just one, but two unicorn women that entered her cell: the Equalizer and the Great and Powerful Trixie.
