by PlastiClown

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© Copyright 2014 - PlastiClown - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; supergirl; comic; capture; enslave; majick; transform; plastic; doll; inflate; objectify; tease; play; storage; cage; cupboard; deflate; lesb; mast; sex; climax; cons/reluct; X


Linda Danvers sat in her room in the Alpha Lambda sorority house and tried to figure out what had happened earlier in the day. Several times while she had been walking around on the campus of Stanhope College she had felt weak and sick, the symptoms of exposure to kryptonitic radiation. She hoped that nobody had noticed, but puzzled over the fact that she was unable to trace the source of the radiation. But someone had noticed.

There was a new student on campus, a raven-haired beauty named Nasthalthia, majoring in art. Everyone but Linda called her Nasty and at times she seemed to live up to that name (well, it was kind of suggestive, now, wasn’t it? – PC). Late in the afternoon of the day that Linda got sick Nasthalthia came to the Alpha Lambda house and asked to see Linda.

In the privacy of Linda’s room, Nasthalthia took from her purse a short rod that looked like it was made of transparent ivory. Ornately carved, it seemed to sparkle. Pretending to show it to Linda, Nasthalthia touched the tip to Linda’s hand and said, “Don’t move! Don’t make a sound!” For Linda the Universe seemed to go away, leaving only Nasthalthia's voice saying, "Don't move!" Those words seemed to envelope her and hold her powerless. She stood as if turned to stone.

Nasthalthia held up her ornately carved rod of transparent ivory and contemplated her victim. She then pressed the tip of the rod against Linda's cheek and said, "Now, Linda, you are my slave. Whether as Linda or as Supergirl, you will do only those things necessary to carry out my commands. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Nasthalthia," Linda said, "I will do only what you say, all of what you say, and nothing else."

Nasthalthia spent about half an hour giving Linda commands and interrogating her. Then she left.

A short time after midnight Linda changed into her Supergirl identity and prepared to carry out Nasthalthia’s commands. She looked ahead to make sure no one would see her. At Stanhope, she had discovered, there were still people up and about various tasks at one in the morning. She went into the sorority house's basement and lifted a manhole cover set into the middle of the floor. She levitated down into the shaft, silently closed the steel cover over her, and went down into the service tunnel. Seconds later Supergirl, carrying a bag holding the items that Nasthalthia had requested, emerged from the chimney of the college's old steam plant.

Moments later Supergirl flew through an open window into a darkened room in Nasthalthia’s apartment and saw Nasthalthia waiting for her. Nasthalthia closed the window and closed the drapes, then turned on a light. Supergirl stood helpless, waiting for Nasthalthia’s next command. Nasthalthia took the bag containing Linda’s shower cap and raincoat and told Supergirl to look at the art work that decorated the walls. The paintings, all made by Nasthalthia, displayed an almost photographic realism.

On one wall hung a painting of a scene on a tropical island. Supergirl, bound with kryptonite shackles, stood on an auction block with her head bowed as women bid for her. The leering auctioneer looked just like Nasthalthia. Bare-breasted, she wore Supergirl’s cape wrapped around her waist as a sarong.

On the picture next to it Supergirl saw the bow of a sailboat with Nasthalthia standing looking down in triumph at the figurehead. She herself, with a shocked, dismayed look on her face, was the figurehead, with her arms held over her head by her wrists being tied together over the bowsprit and her body held in place by a small prong stuck up her rectum. Ropes tied to her ankles and thence to cleats on the gunwales held her legs in place and prevented her from wriggling off the prong.

Another picture showed Supergirl on a rainy day in Stanhope, wearing a transparent-white plastic raincoat, hands bound behind her with kryptonite handcuffs, being led on a leash by Nasthalthia, who was wearing a transparent-red plastic raincoat.

Yet another had a boxing theme. Supergirl, wearing blue boxing trunks, had been turned into an inflated plastic punching bag and was standing, tipped over backward, in a boxing ring with Nasthalthia, wearing red boxing trunks, standing in a pose showing that she had just punched the bag.

In one painting that included the speech balloon of a comic strip she saw an image of herself, with bulging belly and wearing a transparent-pink plastic raincoat with matching apron as a wedding ensemble, standing before an altar being married to Nasthalthia, shyly and demurely saying, "I do". She felt oddly warm and quivery inside to see a pregnant version of herself looking down on her.

An innocuous-looking picture depicted her wearing nothing but a long, ruffled-skirted kitchen apron made of transparent-blue plastic that had her red-and-yellow super-ess emblem printed on the bib. With the wide skirt of her big, fat plastic pinafore billowing in the breeze, she was serving drinks to Nasthalthia and her laughing friends out by the pool on Nasthalthia’s estate.

One painting, a large one six feet high and four feet wide, was covered.

“So, which one do you like best?” Nasthalthia asked.

“They’re all pretty disturbing,” Supergirl said. “But if I had to choose one,....”

“You do,” Nasthalthia said.

“It’s the boxing one,” Supergirl said.

“Why that one?” Nasthalthia asked.

“It looks like you’re not really hurting me and it looks like we’re just having fun together.”

“Playing together,” Nasthalthia commented and yawned. “Alright, come with me.” Nasthalthia took her prisoner to her bedroom and closed the door. She put into a latched case the wand that she had used to enslave Supergirl and confronted the hapless Girl of Steel.

"Get undressed!" she commanded.

Starting with her boots, Supergirl took off her costume, folded it neatly, and laid it on the chair by one side of Nasthalthia’s double bed.

“Get into bed!” Nasthalthia said, “And don’t move!”

Supergirl got into bed on the side that Nasthalthia pointed at, lay on her back, and waited. She saw Nasthalthia take off all of her clothes, then turn out the light, and get into bed. It took a minute, but then Supergirl felt the rubbery heat of Nasthalthia’s body press against her. “Oh, you’re so soft and warm,” Nasthalthia said with a sigh, then she went to sleep.

Next morning Supergirl was awakened by the sensation of something warm and rubbery pressing against her. It was Nasthalthia, using her for a body pillow. With her captress sprawled across her, all she could do was wait. Eventually Nasthalthia woke up, looked at Supergirl in awed disbelief, and then got up. She ordered Supergirl to get out of bed and then took her in an embrace and hugged her.

“At last!” she gloated. “At last you’re mine. My helpless prisoner. Now you’re going to be my toy.”

She released Supergirl then and went to her walk-in closet. She came back out carrying her bathrobe and her shower cap. She handed them to Supergirl to hold for her. First she put on her Pert and Pretty Queen of France shower cap. It was the classic beret style cap made by attaching a dark blue rubber band to the rim of a disc of transparent-azure plastic on which a tiara pattern of gold fleurs de lys had been printed. She stood before Supergirl and made a show of tucking her hair under the limp, skin-smooth plastic, posing like the models in the magazine ads. Then she put on a pair of plastic panties with a thick terrycloth liner and put on her robe.

"Put on your shower cap!" Nasthalthia commanded.

From the bag that she had brought with her Supergirl took her Pert and Pretty Fairy Princess shower cap and put it on. It was made of soft, smooth transparent-white plastic that had little white and silver stars printed on it in a tiara pattern. The plastic had a faint waxy sheen and the cap was made in the beret style with a white rubber band. Supergirl slipped it on over her soft blond hair and tucked a few stray wisps of hair under the rubber band.

"Get totally hot!" Nasthalthia commanded then. "I want to see your meat thermometer come all the way out to show me how hot you are!"

Supergirl felt a special warmth fill her body as her heart beat faster and harder, beating at a rate that would kill an Earthwoman. She felt quivery inside, the way she felt when she was with Dick Malvern, and felt as weak as she did when she was near kryptonite. Her breath trembled. She felt a soft prickling in her nipples as they swelled and hardened. She felt pressure building up in her crotch and felt her clitoris growing and sliding forward in its sheath. She was trembling all over and breathing in quivery gasps. Her vulva bloomed, her groin lips spreading apart to reveal her vagina and her clitoris poking out from under its hood.

"Now take a deep breath and puff out your belly!" Nasthalthia said. “Make yourself look pregnant!” She moved close to her victim and held the wand with its point aimed at the side of Supergirl's neck one inch below and one inch behind her left ear.

Supergirl bloated herself and then felt something touch the left side of her neck. She felt something explode inside her, felt just like the time she swallowed a stick of dynamite a fraction of a second before it detonated, and she heard a loud rubbery whoomp. Then the daze that had come over her in Linda’s room was gone: she could think clearly and her will was her own again. Quickly she grabbed for Nasthalthia's right wrist, intending to take the wand from her.

Nasthalthia laughed and pulled her right hand away from Supergirl’s grab. She punched Supergirl in the belly with her left hand and Supergirl bounced off her fist as lightly as a beach ball and landed sprawled on the bed. Stunned, Supergirl lay on the bed and watched Nasthalthia put her wand into its box.

“Now,” Nasthalthia gloated, “you’re my inflated plastic prisoner. I’ve just turned you into a big, blow-up slave-doll. You're as powerful as a balloon, because that’s what you are. There's nothing you can do except obey me," she said. "Do you understand?"

Supergirl sat up on the bed and realized that her superpowers were gone. She reached up to the left side of her neck and felt the valve stem protruding there. She knew that Nasthalthia was speaking the truth about her condition. Reluctantly she nodded.

Nasthalthia grabbed her left ankle, pulled her up off the bed, and stood her up. "Put on your raincoat!" she commanded.

Taking it from the bag, Supergirl picked up the soft, skin-smooth transparent-blue plastic of her Stormette raincoat and slid her arms into the sleeves. The limp plastic draped over her like water spilling over her shoulders and it swished and swirled when she moved. She felt the skin-smooth plastic grow warm and soften further. She pulled up the pixie-style hood and smoothed the flaps under her chin so that the rubbery magnetic patches on them would engage and hold the hood in place. Then she closed the magnetic patches on the placket and stood up straight to await Nasthalthia's next command.

"Put your hands on the sides of your thighs!" Nasthalthia commanded. "And stand up straight, like a soldier at attention!"

Supergirl complied. She was astonished then to see Nasthalthia kneel before her. Then Nasthalthia touched her wand to the magnetic patch nearest Supergirl's feet and Supergirl heard a soft thoomp as she felt herself being lifted several inches. Now, she saw when Nasthalthia stood up, she stood nose to nose with her captress. She also noticed that she could not move except to twist her body around a bit and rub her belly, her breasts, and her buttocks against soft, smooth plastic.

"Perfect!" Nasthalthia said as she poked Supergirl in the chest and watched her rock to and fro. "Now you're my punching bag." As if to prove her point she gave Supergirl a punch that sent her tipping over backward to the floor. Supergirl hit the floor and bounced, tipping over forward as she did so. Not quite kissing the carpet, she bounced back up and tilted over backward. She went over backward and her weighted base tipped her smartly forward again.

The punch didn't hurt, though Supergirl felt the jolt of Nasthalthia's fist slamming into her plastic. She felt herself go over backward, then felt her raincoat pressing against her back and her buttocks, bouncing her smartly back upright as if she were eager to be punched again. Supergirl and her raincoat had became a roly-poly inflated plastic punching bag. Nasthalthia stared at her new toy as if not quite believing what she was seeing.

Nasthalthia put her wand back into its latched case and then accepted Supergirl's implicit invitation. She watched Supergirl tip over backward and then rock briskly back upright and gave her a punch that sent her to the floor with a soft whap. She marveled at how soft and smooth Supergirl's plastic was, at how lightly Supergirl bounced off her fists, and at how eagerly she bounced back up to be punched again. “Oh, you poor, stupid Kryptonian bimbo!” Nasthalthia gloated as she broke into delighted laughter. She punched her toy again and again. For twenty long minutes the bedroom was filled with soft rubbery thumps as Nasthalthia played with her new toy. Over four years of pent-up desire drove her, kept her energized. For the rest of the day and into the night, in fifteen-to-twenty-minute bouts separated by periods of rest, Nasthalthia played with Supergirl. Soft rubbery thumps were punctuated by Nasthalthia's grunts, her gloating over her helpless prisoner, or her narration of some fantasy that she envisioned as she punched her fists into Supergirl's soft plastic.

After a time Nasthalthia stepped back and allowed her prisoner to bounce up and wobble to a stop. She looked Supergirl over with satisfaction plain on her face then took her in an embrace. Supergirl felt Nasthalthia’s breasts and belly pressing hot against hers. Then she felt Nasthalthia thrusting her hips to and fro, rubbing her vulva on Linda’s raincoat. She felt her body rub against the plastic of her raincoat and felt herself getting hot over it. Special warmth filled her body and she felt quivery inside. She felt the pressure in her crotch rise and her humiliation deepened. But as her embarrassment faded her awareness of her erect clitoris mutated the heat of shame into sexual heat.

Nasthaltia took Supergirl's head in her hands and patted her raincoat's hood. She put her face close to Supergirl's and spoke each word lovingly, as if savoring the flavor of the word itself, "You’re so pretty in plastic and you are my plastic prisoner forever! My big, fat plastic pushover!"

She opened the wand case on her dresser, took out her wand, and approached Supergirl with it. "I'm sure you don't want to sleep standing up," she said. She knelt down and touched the blunt end of the wand to the valve stem near the hem of Supergirl's raincoat.

Supergirl felt herself drop several inches to the floor and felt her raincoat collapse around her to drape naturally over her body. She could move again, but she decided to wait for Nasthalthia's instructions: she just wasn't in a good position to defy the witch. Supergirl stood with her head bowed and her hands on the sides of her thighs.

"Take off your raincoat and get into bed," Nasthalthia said as she got up and went to her dresser to put the wand away.

Supergirl took off her raincoat and draped it over the back of the chair on which she had laid her costume. She went to the bed, pulled back the covers, and slid herself under them. As she straightened the covers over her she saw Nasthalthia turn out the light. Nasthalthia stood over the bed for a long moment.

"I am so hot over you," Nasthalthia said. "This is so wonderful that I just can’t stop myself. All I have to do is say to myself 'Supergirl is my plastic prisoner' and my pussy starts drooling immediately." She took off her panties and got into bed then. She slid over close to Supergirl and gazed lovingly at her in the half light. She put her right hand on Supergirl's belly and put her face close to Supergirl's. "Oh, warm plastic Supergirl!" she moaned in a quavery voice.

"Oh, no!" Supergirl cried out, but no sound came to mask the sound of Nasthalthia's heavy breathing. Desperately Supergirl put her hands up to push Nasthalthia away.

Nasthalthia simply pushed her hands down. Supergirl felt Nasthalthia's breath warm and moist on her face.

"Oh, you’re so soft and warm," Nasthalthia said, "and you are so sweet to wear your Fairy Princess shower cap for me. That just gets me so hot that I just have to lay on you!" She kissed Supergirl on the lips and her breathing became heavier and more tremulous. "I had to put extra protection inside my panties because my pussy has been slobbering over you all day," she said. "And now we're going to give my pussy what it wants."

Nasthalthia mounted her then, heaving herself up and sliding herself onto her prisoner. Supergirl felt Nasthalthia's ample breasts rub soft and hot across her own A-cup mounds, stimulating their prominent aureoles and nipples. She felt Nasthalthia's belly firmly pressing Nasthalthia's body heat into her belly and felt Nasthalthia's shower cap, warm with Nasthalthia's body heat, kissing her cheek. Supergirl thought that Nasthalthia was crying because her breathing sounded more like sobbing now, each quavery exhalation ending in a little love grunt. Supergirl felt warm and quivery inside and she felt the pressure in her crotch rising, seemingly without limit, as Nasthalthia embraced her.

"And now, at last, Supergirl," Nasthalthia gloated, "you're mine... my helpless blowup love slave... to have and to hold... forever. You are my soft... warm... plastic... sex... prisoner."

She pushed her right thigh between Supergirl's legs and thrust herself forward to shove it against Supergirl’s crotch. Supergirl felt Nasthalthia's flesh press hot and rubbery against her labia and clitoris and felt an urge to push Nasthalthia with her hips. She struggled to move, writhing in Nasthalthia’s embrace. Nasthalthia began moving her hips then, sliding her clitoris against Supergirl's plastic and rubbing Supergirl's clitoris with her thigh.

Supergirl was herself sobbing inside. She felt thoroughly humiliated, not so much by Nasthalthia dominating her as by the realization that she was coming aroused and wanted Nasthalthia to bring her to climax. The heat of humiliation only added to the sexual heat simmering within her. She grew hotter as Nasthalthia squeezed her, rubbed against her, and kissed her.

Then Nasthalthia climaxed on her and the turbulence of her convulsions brought Supergirl to climax as well. Suddenly she felt a tickling sensation in the tip of her clitoris and then she felt the pressure gushing out of her in hard spasms that pulled her clitoris back under its hood and then let it pop back out over and over again. Nasthalthia bucked, jerked, and squirmed on her and she writhed in Nasthalthia's embrace. Then she heard Nasthalthia start to cry and she climaxed all the harder.

Then the hot tempest abated and the two women lay quietly together. Nasthalthia sniffled and whimpered and Supergirl put her left hand, which was still free, on Nasthalthia's back and caressed her. She felt a flash of heat from Nasthalthia's post-coital blush and then she went to sleep.


The next day Nasthalthia seemed nervous about something. She ordered Supergirl to put on her clothes but not her raincoat.

Supergirl put on her action costume and Nasthalthia tied her hands behind her back with the sash belt from her bathrobe. She then took Supergirl to her art room and put her into a hastily assembled wooden cage. There was no room to do anything but stand, so Supergirl stood, leaning against the bars. Some time later she heard voices and heard them approaching. She felt a shock go through her as the door opened and Nasthalthia walked into the room with Lex Luthor.

“What in the world?!” Luthor said when he caught sight of Supergirl. “Nasthalthia, what have you done? You were supposed to destroy her, not keep her as a pet.”

“Actually, Uncle Lex,” Nasthalthia said, “I believe that I have found a better solution to your problem. This way she will never bother you again and I get to play with her. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Nasthalthia, you’re not just playing with fire; you’re playing with nuclear fire here.” He approached the cage, saw how fragile the bars were, and stared at Supergirl in some bewilderment.

“No, I’m playing with a hot-air balloon,” Nasthalthia said.

Luthor put his hand through the bars and grabbed Supergirl’s left bicep. She tried to squirm away from him, but to no avail. “She feels like she’s full of air!” Luther said in astonishment. “But she’s still alive!” he added in a horrified tone.

“She is,” Nasthalthia said. “She’s just a helpless, inflated plastic doll. She makes a nice punching bag and I’ve already started training her to be my maid.”

“I still don’t like it,” Luthor said. He released his grip on Supergirl and pulled his hand out of the cage. His face displayed a look of horror and a little fear.

Nasthalthia let out a p’fft and said, “You’ll change that song when I blow up the other one. Imagine, if you will, having your own very special Superman punching bag. Imagine watching him bounce off your fists like a beach ball.”

“Yes,” Luthor said slowly as the look of horror on his face faded. “Yes, that could be interesting. I certainly owe him a beating.” He smiled then and said, “Nasthalthia, I’m proud of you. You’ve developed your powers well and you’re not afraid to use them. I’m eager to see how you’re going to change this world.”

“Why, thank you, Uncle Lex. I’ll try not to disappoint you,” Nasthalthia said as she went to the covered painting. “Let’s start with the picture I made for you. I hope I got it right.” She removed the cover and Supergirl got a clear look at the painting.

With almost photographic realism it depicted a horrifying scene. It showed Supergirl with her hands tied behind her back hanging from a gallows. The way her face was distorted and discolored, with her tongue protruding, indicated that Nasthalthia must have had a picture of a real hanging to use as a reference. Luthor expressed his delight with it, replaced the cover, and carried the painting with him as he left. Supergirl shuddered.


A short time later Nasthalthia, completely naked and wearing her shower cap, came back to the art room and took Supergirl out of the cage. She walked her prisoner back to her bedroom, untied her hands, and ordered her to undress. When Supergirl was once again standing naked, Nasthalthia handed her a shower cap and told her to put it on.

To Supergirl it looked just like an ordinary plastic shower cap. It was a simple beret made of limp, skin-smooth transparent plastic that was tinted pale lilac. It seemed ordinary enough, something that Pert and Pretty might have made, though she thought that she could see odd little sparkles flashing in it. She put it on, wondering what Nasthalthia had in mind. "...why she needs me to wear another shower cap," she heard a voice like hers grumbling. Then, "Oh."

"That's right, my pretty," Nasthalthia said, "That’s your vocalizer. Now we can talk together. And thank goodness for that. Monologues can be so boring."

"Nasthalthia, please stop this and let me out of here," Supergirl said. “This isn't a joke," she said more insistently, "Please change me back and let me go."

“Oh, there’s no way I’m ever going to do that,” Nasthalthia said. "My goodness, look at it from my point of view, purely aside from the danger in what you’re suggesting. You're the all-powerful, invincible Supergirl and I’ve turned you into a helpless blowup slave-doll. You're my toy, my very special toy." She was very close to Supergirl now, close enough that Supergirl felt her breath warm and moist on her face. Eyes half closed, voice a breathy whisper, Nasthalthia went on, "Everyone is in awe of you, mighty Supergirl," she spoke the name lovingly as if savoring its flavor in her mouth, "but I get to take you to bed and fuck you. Oh, Supergirl, your humiliation is only beginning. Now, let's go test our shower caps together!"

She led Supergirl out of her bedroom and into the bathroom. Shocked and unable to think of anything to say, Supergirl kept silent.

In the bathroom Nasthalthia turned on the water in the shower and, when it had reached the temperature she wanted, she stepped into the bathtub. Looking at Supergirl, she held up her hand and crooked her finger. Afraid to disobey, Supergirl joined her mistress in the bathtub and watched in quivering humiliation as Nasthalthia closed the shower curtain.

At first Nasthalthia seemed to ignore her, rubbing the bar of soap between her hands and wiping the lather carefully on her face. She put her face into the stream of water from the shower head and rinsed the soap off. Then she turned and contemplated her special toy.

"And now, my soft, helpless pleasure slave!" she said, handing Supergirl the soap. "Now you get to put your hands on my body and feel me up. Bathe me, starting with my back!"

Supergirl picked up the soap, rubbed it between her hands, and began rubbing the lather onto Nasthalthia's back. Under Nasthalthia's direction, she progressed down her back, then along her arms and down her legs, leaving only her front, crotch, and the insides of her thighs not done.

"So," Nasthalthia said as Supergirl started on her task, "tell me what you think of me!"

"You're an evil, wicked witch!" Supergirl said.

Nasthalthia let out an exasperated sigh. "I know that. Tell me something good. Tell me how I look. Tell me how much you love feeling me up."

"Well, uh," Supergirl said, "You are pretty. That page-boy cut frames your face perfectly. And you really do have a sweet smile. I can see why the men like you."

"Unh huh," Nasthalthia commented. "And how about below my neck?"

Supergirl started soaping Nasthalthia's front, beginning just below her neck. "You have a nice body, well-muscled and feminine smooth."

"Oh, dear,” Nasthalthia moaned. “Can we get past the anatomy lesson and get to the good parts?" She gasped as Supergirl began rubbing soap lather on her breasts.

Supergirl felt Nasthalthia's nipples swell and harden as she slid her hands over them. She remembered how hot she had felt when Nasthalthia had laid them on her the previous night and she felt sexual heat beginning to warm her as she anticipated receiving similar treatment tonight.

"OK," she said in a quavery voice, "your breasts are totally hot. They're so nice and big and so well shaped. When you got on top of me last night and put them on me, I nearly reached climax then."

She rubbed lower, running her hands over Nasthalthia's belly. She felt her own clitoris swelling with lust.

"And I love this. The way it curves out just a little bit makes you look like you might be pregnant. And it felt so good on me last night." Her words were shaking as she spoke them, quaking with passion.

She ran her hands on the insides of Nasthalthia's thighs and Nasthalthia's heavy breathing became panting. She felt slickness in Nasthalthia's crotch that was not due to soap. And she felt Nasthalthia's clitoris poking out from under its fleshy hood.

"Oh, Nasthalthia, dear, sweet Nasthalthia," Supergirl said, half sobbing," when you slid your clitoris on my leg I felt that I could just explode and... and I did."

Nasthalthia gently pushed Supergirl’s hands away from her crotch. "Enough for now. Let's save this for later."

Supergirl stood up and allowed the shower to rinse the soap from her. As passion's flow ebbed she was left with the heat of embarrassment at the display she had just made of herself.

"So," Nasthalthia said with a still-quavery voice, "you see? Being my plastic prisoner isn't going to be so bad, now is it?"

Supergirl bowed her head in shame and shook it in answer to Nasthalthia's question. She stood and submitted to Nasthalthia taking her in an embrace and kissing her.

After getting out of the shower and drying each other, they went back to Nasthalthia's bedroom. There Nasthalthia told Supergirl to put on her raincoat and then turned her into a punching bag again. Then Nasthalthia took Supergirl in an embrace and felt her squirming inside her raincoat.

"What are you doing?" Nasthalthia asked.

"Rubbing my fanny and my belly against my raincoat," Supergirl replied. "It feels really good, which is something I guess I sorta like about being a punching bag. You ought to try it. Take off your clothes and put on your raincoat. It'll getcha hot."

"Wearing your raincoat gets you hot?"

"Yes, when I’m naked it does," Supergirl said. "I think it's partly because the plastic is so sensuous, so sexy by itself. But it gets me even hotter because it makes me feel so totally feminine. It’s like having someone I love touching me and caressing me and that gets me hotter."

“So you’re in love with your raincoat,” Nasthalthia commented.

“Yeah, in a way, I suppose,” Supergirl said. “I’ve... I’ve never really thought of it that way, but now it makes sense.”

“Well, then,” Nasthalthia said, “let me help you two make love together.”

Nasthalthia released her embrace, put on her special plastic panties, and then, once again, she set to bopping her special toy. In fifteen-to-twenty-minute sessions she made Supergirl bounce for her. Supergirl, for her part, played into Nasthalthia’s fantasy and begged for mercy.

Nasthalthia seemed to feel the heat coming off Supergirl's plastic and felt it as sexual heat. More than half a dozen times she had to retire to her bathroom to take the wet liner out of her panties and put in a fresh dry one.

Then, after nightfall, she stopped. She took her wand from its case and pressed the blunt end against the valve stem at the bottom of Supergirl's raincoat.

With a soft thoomp Supergirl turned back into an inflated plastic doll wearing a raincoat that draped limply on her body. She bowed her head and clasped her hands behind her back.

Nasthalthia put the wand back into its case, locked the case, and then gave Supergirl a shove toward the bed. Supergirl stumbled a little and Nasthalthia gave her another push.

She was trembling when Nasthalthia confronted her. Nasthalthia slipped off her panties and stood naked in front of her, held both hands out, and beckoned her closer. Supergirl bowed her head in defeat and stepped into Nasthalthia's embrace. She felt Nasthalthia trembling too and felt her breath in her left ear.

"Oh, you're so sexy in plastic," Nasthalthia sighed. “You were right; it’s getting me hot!” She ran her hands over Supergirl's back, stroking her raincoat. Then she released her prisoner and said, "It's time."

Supergirl took off her raincoat and draped it over the chair on her side of the bed. Then she slid herself under the covers and rolled over onto her back. She saw Nasthalthia go to turn out the light and then felt Nasthalthia get into bed with her. She waited, trembling and feeling warmth expand within her. She became aware of the pressure in her crotch and silently begged Nasthalthia to take her.

Nasthalthia rolled over to face Supergirl, slid her right hand over to touch her, then pulled her close. "Now, at last," she gloated, "I have you right where I want you, my helpless plastic prisoner!"

She put her lips on Supergirl's then and intuitively Supergirl turned her head to avoid the kiss. Nasthalthia merely followed her motion, pressing her lips against Supergirl's all the harder and making little pouting motions to enhance the sensation. The air-filled Girl of Plastic was no match for her and soon yielded, submitting herself to being kissed passionately by a woman who was closely related to one of her worst enemies.

Sexual heat intensified within her as Nasthalthia mounted her, sliding up onto her and pushing her right thigh between her legs. She felt Nasthalthia's breasts slid soft and hot over hers and then press down on them, felt the body-warm plastic of Nasthalthia's shower cap kiss the left side of her face. She savored the sensation of Nasthalthia's belly pressing heat into hers with every quivering breath Nasthalthia took. She felt the pressure in her clitoris rise out of control when Nasthalthia pressed her thigh, hot and rubbery, against it. And the sensation of Nasthalthia's clitoris pressing hard into the plastic of her right thigh made her want to move, to rock and to roll under Nasthalthia to intensify the sensation. She desperately wanted Nasthalthia to overwhelm her, to envelope her, and when Nasthathia put her arms around her and hugged her, she wanted even more. She craved nothing less than every calorie of Nasthalthia's heat on her body.

Then Nasthalthia began to move, thrusting her hips to and fro, sliding her clitoris up and down Supergirl's thigh and rubbing Supergirl's clitoris as well. Supergirl felt that Nasthalthia's thigh moving rhythmically on her was a kind of pump blowing her up through her clitoris, inflating her with hot passion. Then it exploded, sent waves of heat slamming into every part of her body, making her whole body shudder and quake. She bucked, jerked, and writhed in Nasthalthia's grasp and grew all the hotter as she felt Nasthalthia convulsing on top of her.

It ended too soon. She felt the heat from Nasthalthia's post-coital blush and nearly climaxed again, then her sexual heat faded into a soft afterglow, a long-lasting warmth from the embers of consummated love.

Late that night, when Nasthalthia was sound asleep, Supergirl took her shower cap off her, pulled it under the covers, and masturbated with it. When she was done she put the shower cap on top of the bedcovers.


When Nasthalthia got out of bed the next morning, she beckoned to Supergirl to come with her. She picked up Supergirl's raincoat from her chair and she led Supergirl into her walk-in closet.

Supergirl saw that the closet was just about half the width of the bedroom. On her right she saw dresses and coats on hangers dangling from a thick wooden bar. And at the end she saw what she at first took to be an oversized dress bag.

It was made of hazy-clear transparent-white plastic that had vertical black stripes printed on it. Its rectangular bottom rested on a rubber mat on the floor and it extended all the way up to the wooden bar. Supergirl noticed that half the bag's volume was already occupied by one of the life-sized Supergirl punching bags that were popular with girls as sparring partners in certain exercise regimens. There was also an inflated hassock, a plastic pouffe for her to sit on.

Nasthalthia reached up and pulled down the zipper that closed the bag. "Get in!" she said. Supergirl complied, feeling the smooth plastic soft to her touch. She found that the bag was tall enough for her to stand up without bumping her shower cap. Not surprising for a woman who stood five feet, five inches tall.

"Now I have two Supergirl punching bags in my plastic prison," Nasthalthia gloated. She put Supergirl's raincoat into the bag and then pulled the zipper up and locked it in place with a click that told Supergirl that she was completely trapped. She left then and left the light on.

Supergirl sat down on the pouffe to get comfortable and found herself leaning against and embracing her inflated effigy. After a time she looked around to see what she shared the closet with, but there was little to see. She saw that the prison bag hung next to Nasthalthia's Tres Plastique raincoat, which was a long ballerina style coat, with a full skirt and a pixie-style hood, made of limp, skin-smooth, transparent-red plastic. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now she seemed to feel Nasthalthia's special warmth emanating from it and she went into a reverie.

She recalled to mind the image of the picture she had seen of her being auctioned off to a bunch of women. She imagined that she could see the women's clitorises extending from their sheaths. She felt humiliation at seeing these women take sexual pleasure from her downfall and then she felt the heat of her shame transmuted into her own sexual arousal. Social submission and sexual submission mingled in her unconscious mind. She fantasized about the women, one at a time, buying her and taking her home to play with her. With those fantasies in mind, she masturbated, rubbing the plastic of her raincoat into her crotch and over her clitoris.

With nothing else to do, she played with herself all morning. It was shortly after noon when she saw Nasthalthia again. She came into the closet carrying Supergirl's folded-up costume and set it on a shelf on the wall opposite the prison bag. Then she opened the prison bag and Supergirl saw that she was holding something that looked like a plastic drinking straw with a flange around its middle.

“And now, mighty Supergirl, I get to let the air out of you,” Nasthalthia said. Supergirl struggled to avoid the straw that Nasthalthia pushed toward her neck. She tried to squirm away from her captress, but it was all to no avail. She felt something penetrate her neck, heard a soft p’whhh, and fell asleep.


As she woke up she heard a soft whhhoooff and felt something flowing into the side of her neck. She felt soft lips warm on her neck and soft, warm flesh pressed against her back. She came fully awake and understood that she was being re-inflated. Nasthalthia was blowing her up. She felt Nasthalthia’s left hand cupping her right breast and Nasthalthia’s right hand pressing on her belly. She became aware of Nasthalthia’s breasts pressed against her back, their nipples swelling and stiffening, and Nasthalthia’s clitoris pushing against her left buttock.

When she had been blown full she saw that she was sitting on the love seat in Nasthalthia’s bedroom wearing only her raincoat and her vocalizer. Nasthalthia came to the love seat wearing only a silky red nightie with matching bloomers. She sat down and put her left arm around Supergirl’s shoulders.

“Why did you let the air out of me?” Supergirl asked.

“I had to go to Metropolis for a couple of days,” Nasthalthia said as she used her right hand to touch Supergirl’s breasts and rub the plastic of her raincoat over them. “I had to get Uncle Lex his special plastic prisoner.”

“No,” Supergirl moaned and then she began to cry.

“Hey, it’s not all that bad,” Nasthalthia said. “He’s as indestructible as you are and he’ll be well cared for. Uncle Lex wants him to last forever and he gets to stay in a nice house.”

“How could you be so mean to us?” Supergirl sobbed.

“I know that this is hard for you to believe,” she said, “but I am very deeply in love with you.”

“Is that why you didn’t kill me?” Supergirl asked, still sobbing quietly.

“Yes,” Nasthalthia said. “I couldn’t bear the thought. I’ve been wetting my panties over you for years.”

“I suppose I should be grateful,” Supergirl said. She half turned and absent-mindedly put her left hand on Nasthalthia’s left breast and kneaded it. She felt the nipple swell and stiffen under her touch.

“I love you, Supergirl,” Nasthalthia said and then she kissed Supergirl firmly and passionately on the lips. She broke off the kiss and said, “I’ve spent years thinking up ways to make you weak and helpless so that I could push you into my bed and play with you. Well, I’ve finally done it and the other night was the hottest night of my life. That's when I knew... when I knew for sure that I am totally in love with you." She kissed Supergirl again and played with Supergirl’s lips, pushing on them and nibbling them with her lips. She was breathing heavy.

“But... but... why?” Supergirl asked.

“No man is ever going to stab me with his pickle. But I have a libido and it fills me with lust. I want someone to play with and to rub bellies with. And that someone is you.”

“Oh, O... OK,” Supergirl said a little uncertainly. “But if you want to play with me, wouldn’t be better if I were your playmate instead of your plaything? I think that would be more loving.”

“And what kind of play would your devious alien mind be thinking up?” Nasthalthia asked. Then a suspicion dawned and she asked in indignant astonishment, “Are you actually suggesting that I let you use me for a punching bag?!”

“Yeah, kinda,” Supergirl said. She slid her hand down and began rubbing Nasthalthia’s belly. “I can’t hurt you,” she said a little defensively. “And think of how much fun you’ll have taking revenge on me in bed.”

Nasthalthia opened her mouth as if to say something, paused for a minute, then let out a sigh. “Yeah, OK,” she said hesitantly. “That might be fun at that.”

Supergirl put her arms around her and hugged. “Th... there’s one other thing,” she said in a quavery voice. “Please, Nasthalthia, please don’t say no.”

“Well, if it’s harmless...,” Nasthalthia said in some bewilderment.

Supergirl kissed Nasthalthia and said quietly, “Please, let me play with your raincoat?”

“Because it feels like you’re being caressed by someone who loves you,” Nasthalthia commented. “Yeah, OK, you can wear my raincoat all you want. Now, let’s go to bed!”

Supergirl stood up, took off her raincoat, and left it on the love seat while Nasthalthia did the same with her nightie and bloomers. Then Nasthalthia escorted her to her bedside. Supergirl turned as if to resist, but simply put her hands on Nasthalthia's biceps. "Oh, you're so big and strong," she said.

"And you are so very pretty," Nasthalthia said. Then gently but firmly she pushed Supergirl into bed, turned out the light, and slid herself under the covers with her.

She mounted Supergirl immediately. Coming down a little too hard, she bounced lightly on her inflated lover. She put her nose to Supergirl's.

"I never thought that I would ever hear myself say these words," she said in a panting voice. In the moonlit dim she gazed deep into big blue eyes and said, "I love you, Supergirl."

"Oh, Nasthalthia," Supergirl sighed. "Take me. I'm your hot submissive bride eager to give you pleasure." She put her arms around Nasthalthia and squeezed her.

Nasthalthia put her left cheek on Supergirl's and Supergirl felt Nasthalthia's hair fall soft and warm across her face. Nasthalthia began to move and Supergirl felt her thigh rub hot and firm against her clitoris as Nasthalthia's clitoris rubbed her thigh. Supergirl was trembling all over and moaning Nasthalthia's name over and over again. She felt all hot inside and felt the pressure in her clitoris rising with Nasthalthia's every stroke. She felt the pressure of Nasthalthia's breasts on hers shifting up and down as Nasthalthia moved and that sensation only added to her sexual heat. Soon, all to soon, she felt Nasthalthia shudder with deep spasms and she climaxed as well, writhing as if to press her body even more firmly to Nasthalthia's. Then it was over and Nasthalthia lay panting on top of her.

“I’m starting to love what you do to me," Supergirl said. "You make me feel so warm and well loved."

“I do love you,” Nasthalthia said. “I know it’s weird, what with me keeping you here as a prisoner, but I do love you, I do want you.” She rolled off Supergirl to lie on her back.

“You know,” Supergirl said as she rolled onto her side toward Nasthalthia, “if you were to get me a plastic skirt with a grass pattern printed on it, I would dance a hula for you.” She put her left hand on Nasthalthia’s belly and stroked warm, smooth flesh. “It’ll get us both hot.”

Nasthalthia turned her head and before she could say anything Supergirl leaned in and kissed her. Nasthalthia simply whimpered.

They lay together for a time, talking, tenderly touching each other, gently exploring each other. They took pleasure from being warm together. And then, still embracing each other, they went to sleep.


If this were a movie, the theme song would be a parody of a song that was popular in 1961. The original song is “Rubber Ball” sung by Bobby Vee and the parody is “Punching Bag” sung by The Angels, whose 1963 hit “My Boyfriend’s Back” was about another punching bag. Comments from the chorus appear in parentheses.

Rubber Ball (Lyrics) Bobby Vee 1961

Rubber ball, I come bouncin' back to you
Rubber ball, I come bouncin' back to you

I'm like a rubber ball Baby that's all that I am to you (Bouncy, bouncy) (bouncy, bouncy)
Just a rubber ball 'Cause you think you can be true to two (Bouncy, bouncy) (bouncy, bouncy)
You bounce my heart around (You don't even put her down)
And like a rubber ball I come bouncin' back to you
Rubber ball, I come bouncin' back to you

If you stretch my love till it's thin enough to tear
I'll just stretch my arms to reach you anywhere
And like a rubber ball, I'll come bouncin' back to you
Rubber ball, I'll come bouncin' back to you

You bounce my heart around (You don't even put her down)
And like a rubber ball, I come bouncin' back to you
Rubber ball, I come bouncin' back to you
(Bouncy, bouncy) (bouncy, bouncy)
(Bouncy, bouncy) (bouncy, bouncy)

I'm like a rubber band
When on my shoulder you do tap (Bouncy, bouncy) (bouncy, bouncy)
Just a rubber band Because my heartstrings, they just snap (Bouncy, bouncy) (bouncy, bouncy)
You go and squeeze me till I'm all aflame (She calls you by some other guy's name)
But like a rubber ball, I come bouncin' back to you
Rubber ball, I come bouncin' back to you
Rubber ball, I'll come bouncin' back to you
Rubber ball, I'll come bouncin' back to you
Rubber ball, I'll come bouncin' back to you

Punching Bag (lyrics) The Angels 1965

Punching bag, you come bouncing back to me.
Punching bag, you come bouncing back to me.

You’re like a rubber doll, yeah, that’s all you need to be. (Bouncy, bouncy)(bouncy, bouncy)
Just a punching bag that comes bouncing back to me. (Bouncy, bouncy)(bouncy, bouncy)
Your fate is a fantastic one (she turned you into plastic fun)
And like a punching bag, you come bouncing back to me.

You’re a punching bag just for me alone to bop. (Bouncy, bouncy)(bouncy, bouncy)
When you bounce for me I just never want to stop. (Bouncy, bouncy)( bouncy, bouncy)
You bounce just like a plastic clown (whenever she can knock you down)
And like a punching bag, you come bouncing back to me.

(Bouncy, bouncy)(bouncy, bouncy)
(Bouncy, bouncy)(bouncy, bouncy)

You’re just a plastic slave that I alone control. (Bouncy, bouncy)(bouncy, bouncy)
Just a blow-up doll that I can rock and roll. (Bouncy, bouncy)(bouncy, bouncy)
I love how I have brought you low (she’s never going to let you go)
And like a punching bag, you come bouncing back to me.

And like a punching bag, you come bouncing back to me.
Like a punching bag, you come bouncing back to me.
Punching bag, you come bouncing back to me. (Repeat seven times while fading out).


Nasthalthia, daughter of Lex Luthor’s older sister, appeared in the Supergirl comic strip running from Adventure Comics #397 (Sep 1970) “Supergirl Meets Nasty” to Adventure Comics #424 (Oct 1972) “Crypt of the Frozen Graves”. She had been introduced as coming to Stanhope College in an effort to learn Supergirl’s secret identity so that she could betray her to Uncle Lex. But even though she suspected Linda Danvers of being Supergirl, she never used the obvious ploy of carrying a piece of kryptonite in her purse, as she does in this story. Either she was incredibly stupid or there was something else going on in her mind.

If you want to get a rough idea of what Supergirl might look like in her blue plastic Stormette raincoat, go to, click on Rainwear, click on Ladies Raincoats, and then click on style PA3C. I am especially fond of the picture of the young lady modeling the semi-transparent light blue raincoat. The girl in the semi-transparent red raincoat comes in second. I know these monitors don't emit a lot of infrared, but I could swear that I felt the women's body heat coming off the plastic. I’ll also note here that Stormette was a brand of plastic raincoats sold around 1950.

As for aprons, go to Aprons, thence to Montcler Classics, and thence to Aprons of the Fifties (MC22). The semi-transparent floral apron (MC22FLL) will give you a fair idea of what the aprons in Nasthalthia’s paintings look like. But instead of the crossover straps described for the apron, these aprons have a simple yoke, called a pull over strap on the description of the Sissy-Apron. If you want to see a more precise picture of what Supergirl looks like in an apron (as of 2014 Nov 20), copy the following URL, paste it into the address bar of your browser, and click the search icon:


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