Chapter 8: Pupil Becomes the Teacher
The flickering blue light from the television painted sweaty, undulating shadows across Crystal’s grimy walls. Kara’s head was thrown back, a low, continuous moan vibrating in her throat as her satin-gloved fingers worked in a frantic, slippery rhythm between her spread legs. On screen, a woman with brassy platinum hair and a skeletal frame was being passed between two men, her pouted, pink-glossed lips stretched around a thick cock. “Suck that dick, you skinny bitch,” one of the men grunted from the speakers, his voice dripping with contempt. Kara’s own glossed lips parted in a perfect, mimicking ‘O’, her tongue darting out to trace the air as she watched the actress deepthroat with a sloppy, practiced ease. A fresh, searing wave of pleasure crested from her clit, so intense her vision spotted. “Fuck,” she gasped, her hips bucking off the stained couch cushion. Her other hand squeezed one of her augmented breasts, the silicone orb firm and unyielding under the tight lace of her bustier. The sharp, chemical scent of the fake Kryptonite from her last hit still clung to her sinuses, a fragrant poison that made the pornographic instructions feel like divine commandments. She was so close, teetering on the edge, her entire world narrowed to the screen and the screaming need in her cunt. “Yeah, take it all, you plastic whore,” the TV man demanded, and Kara’s body obeyed, convulsing in a raw, shuddering climax that ripped through her with the force of a physical blow. She cried out, a broken, guttural sound, as pleasure, sharp as shattered glass, radiated from her core. For a few seconds, there was only the static hum of exhaustion and the porn’s relentless soundtrack. Then, a different, colder sensation prickled at the base of her skull. Her eyes, blurred with tears of release, focused on the actress’s face—the heavy, smudged eyeliner, the vacant, blissful expression. A profound, unsettling envy curdled in her gut. She wanted that. She wanted to be that. Pushing herself up on trembling arms, she caught her reflection in the dark screen: a disheveled parody with smeared lip gloss and wild hair. It wasn't enough. She wasn't enough. Not yet.
Not yet. The deadbolt clicked and the door swung open, revealing Crystal silhouetted against the hallway’s grimy light. “Look at you, still going,” Crystal said, her voice a mix of approval and amusement as she dropped her keys into a ceramic bowl. She kicked the door shut with her heel, her eyes scanning Kara’s disheveled form on the couch. “That’s my girl, really studying the technique.” Kara’s cheeks flushed with a heat that had nothing to do with shame, a stupid, grateful smile tugging at her lips. Crystal shrugged off her jacket and moved to the cluttered vanity, pulling a makeup bag from a drawer. “Don’t stop on my account,” she called over her shoulder, uncapping a lipstick. “Find something new, something real.” Kara’s heart hammered against her ribs as her trembling fingers navigated the remote, selecting a video titled “Golden Shower Sluts.” The screen filled with the image of a painfully thin woman on her knees, her head tilted back as a man aimed his stream into her open, waiting mouth. A sharp, electric jolt of arousal, so much more intense than before, seared through Kara’s already oversensitive clit. “Oh god,” she moaned, her back arching as she shoved her miniskirt up around her waist. Her gloved fingers dove back into her soaked cunt, mimicking the pornstar’s submissive posture on the screen. Crystal chuckled, applying mascara with a steady hand. “See? She knows her place, just like you’re learning.” The man on screen grunted, “Drink it all, you filthy bitch,” and Kara’s mouth watered, her own tongue swiping across her lips as if she could taste it. Her other hand pinched her nipple through the bustier, the pain-pleasure so acute it made her cry out. She was close again, so close, the degrading imagery fueling a fire in her gut that burned away every other thought. Crystal smoothed her hair in the mirror, completely casual. “That’s it, Kara, let it own you.” The woman on screen swallowed, and Kara’s body convulsed, a raw, screaming orgasm tearing through her.
The raw scream died in her throat, leaving her panting and twitching on the stained fabric, the phantom taste of piss from the screen still haunting her tongue. Crystal’s laughter cut through the porn’s grunts. “Again? You’re insatiable, you fucking slut.”
Kara’s breath hitched, her body still humming from the last climax as the video switched to a scene of two men relentlessly driving into a woman’s asshole from both ends. The actress’s anus was stretched obscenely wide, a gaping, pink hole that pulsed around the invading cocks, and Kara’s own ass clenched in a sympathetic, thrilling spasm. “Look at that wrecked shithole,” Crystal purred, leaning close enough for Kara to smell the stale cigarettes on her breath. “Imagine that being you, Supergirl—your perfect, tight ass stretched into a sloppy, used mess that can’t even hold itself shut.” She traced a finger down Kara’s spine, making her shudder. “Wouldn’t that be the ultimate joke? The mighty Supergirl, always needing a plug to keep her shit in because her asshole is just a ruined, gaping pit.” Kara’s cunt dripped in response, her fingers automatically seeking her clit again as she watched the pornstar’s face contort in ecstatic agony. Crystal reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a massive, veined black dildo, slicking it with a glob of cold lube from a bottle on the floor. “Let’s make that fantasy real, you needy whore,” she said, pressing the rigid silicone into Kara’s trembling hand. “Start stretching that asshole open for me.” Kara’s heart hammered against her ribs as she guided the thick tip to her puckered entrance, her body alight with a terrifying, electric anticipation. She pushed, and the initial resistance sent a sharp, blinding bolt of pleasure-pain through her hypersensitive nerves. “Harder, you coward,” Crystal snarled, and Kara obeyed, driving the dildo deeper into her tight channel with a choked cry. The feeling of being filled, of her muscles straining and burning around the invading girth, was overwhelmingly degrading and exquisite. Each thrust stretched her further, mimicking the brutal penetration on screen, and she could feel her sphincter yielding, adapting to the violent intrusion. “That’s it, ruin it,” Crystal encouraged, her voice a dark whisper in Kara’s ear as tears of shame and pleasure tracked through her makeup. Kara’s moans became ragged, desperate sounds, her body convulsing around the dildo as she fucked her own ass toward a devastating, inevitable climax.
The climax seized her with violent, undignified spasms, a raw scream tearing from her throat as her bowels clenched around the invading silicone. In the shuddering aftermath, she pulled the slick, black dildo from her ravaged ass and brought it to her lips with a trembling, devotional reverence. She kissed the tip, then swirled her tongue over the veined shaft, tasting the bitter lube and the faint, shameful trace of herself on the plastic, her moans soft and adoring.
Crystal’s laughter was a sharp, cold blade. “Look at that,” she sneered, grabbing her phone and activating the camera. “Your asshole is literally winking at me, you mind-broken bitch. It’s a fucking crater.” She shoved Kara off the couch. “On your feet, whore. Let’s show your fans what a real hero looks like.”
Kara stumbled upright, her legs weak, and bent over, gripping her own cheeks to spread them wide for the lens. “Hello,” she panted, her voice a breathy, programmed whisper, “my name is Supergirl, and my asshole is permanently ruined.” Crystal zoomed in on the gaping, pulsing rosebud. “It’s so stretched and useless now,” Kara continued, a tear of genuine humiliation mixing with her arousal, “it can’t even stay closed on its own.”
“But don’t worry,” Crystal chimed in from behind the phone, her voice dripping with mock sweetness, “we have a solution for this messy little problem.” She held up the massive plug, its pink heart gem glittering under the room’s foul light. Kara’s eyes widened, her distress momentarily eclipsed by a sudden, overwhelming fixation. “It’s so pretty,” she breathed, her voice full of childish wonder.
She watched, mesmerized, as Crystal coated the plug in lube and pressed the cold, broad tip against her loose entrance. It slid in with a shamefully easy pop, the stretch a dull, familiar ache, the diamond heart settling snugly against her ruined flesh. A profound, twisted joy flooded her. “It’s my pretty jewelry,” Kara whispered, reaching back to touch the heart, her smile beatific and utterly broken.