- CHAPTER TWO -
BLACK IS THE NEW BLACK

Kara awoke with a start, her skin tingling and an unfamiliar energy coursing through her. She sat on the edge of the bed, her mind a whirlpool of fragmented thoughts, her feelings increasingly blurred.

Suddenly, memories of last night came flooding in and panic started rise inside her, but then... she felt nothing. Why am I not more worried? The thought echoed, weak and distant. She moved mechanically towards the mirror, yet there was a fluid grace to her, a raw, sensuous energy that begged to be released. She scrutinized her reflection, her face a canvas of vulnerability and burgeoning desire, an enticing dance of shadows and lights that whispered secrets in the early morning glow. Her breasts, did they seem a little larger? And her face, a bit more symetrical. So? So what? It was an improvement, subtle as it was. But still...

"I should be scared, shouldn’t I? But why does it feel so… right?" Kara battled within herself, the familiar voice of caution warning her to reject this feeling, to fear it. Yet, something deeper, something primal and neglected was urging her to embrace it, to explore the boundaries of this new exhilaration that pulsed within her.

She shook her head as if to clear it, stepping curiously towards her wardrobe. Her fingers lingered on the clothes, the textures suddenly more inviting, more alive. She reached out and picked a pair of jeans, the fabric cool and promising as she slipped into them.

"I could... I could look good, feel good. There’s nothing wrong in..." Kara’s thoughts trailed off as she chose a top, revealing and daring, a silent promise of liberation. The fabric hugged her, emphasizing the contours of her body, unveiling a side of her she barely recognized, yet couldn’t help but be fascinated with.

Kara hesitated as she reached for her makeup, the array of colors suddenly so vibrant, so full of potential. The internal struggle surged again, stronger this time, telling her to show restraint. Yet, with each stroke of the brush, with each enhancement that defined her features, the apprehension was replaced by an intoxicating confidence that murmured seductive assurances in her ear. She smiled to herself as she put on the finishing touches, cherry red glossy lips.

A rogue thought infiltrated her mind, a sliver of fear weaving through the tapestry of arousal and awakening. This isn’t you. This isn’t right. The words were there, nagging at the edges of her mind, yet they felt muffled, distant, drowned by the pulsating call of the unknown that vibrated within her, nudging her to see, to feel, to be more.

Ready for the day, she posed before the mirror, her body language transformed, a being of power and desire reflected back at her. "What’s happening to me?" The question arose with genuine curiosity rather than fear, a beckoning towards the intoxicating unknown that lay before her. The apprehension was there, a background noise, yet it was swiftly being overpowered by a rhythmic drum of desire that echoed in her veins.

Before she left, her gaze fell upon the discarded shard of black kryptonite on the floor. The source of this transformation lay there, ominous yet alluring. She felt she should be concerned, yet the pulsating rhythm within her dismissed the thought almost instantly, a reckless abandon overtaking any caution as she uttered a careless, “Eh, whatever.”

As she stepped out into the morning, a heady mix of fear and anticipation colored her thoughts. Every step was a dance, every breath held a promise of something more, something wild, something utterly consuming. She was on the cusp of a journey into the unknown, guided by a force that was as terrifying as it was seductively compelling, a journey that promised pleasure, power, and the dangerous allure of the unexplored.

* * *

Kara couldn't help but feel a strange sensation as she walked into the office. An odd mix of emotions oscillated within her — a cocktail of confusion and growing delight stirred with each step she took. The attention felt surprising, but not entirely unwanted.

Looking down at her own form, a sudden comprehension dawned upon her as she noticed how her chosen attire accentuated her curves more vivaciously than ever before. A thought, bold and unbidden, gracefully waltzed into her mind, teasing at her newly awakened self-assurance, “Yeah, why shouldn’t they look at me?”

She allowed herself to entertain the thought, letting it germinate, sprout, and blossom within her, fertilizing her walk with a more pronounced sway of her hips, a deliberate invitation embedded in the fluid grace of her strides, affirming her desirability with every tantalizing motion. The seed of self-appreciation grew as she observed herself through others' eyes, a magnetic field of allure expanding around her, pulling them in, their gazes lingering appreciatively, curiously, and somewhat lustfully.

Barbara Florence's office was slightly ajar when Kara approached, the slightly humming noise from the air conditioner was the only sound in the room. With a soft knock, Kara pushed the door open and stepped in, radiating confidence.

Barbara's eyes darting back and forth as she scanned a document in front of her. She started to speak without lifting her gaze, "Kara, I need you to..." her voice trailed off as her eyes finally met Kara's, a noticeable pause following as she took in her appearance.

After a few seconds, feeling like a few minutes, Kara's boss cleared her throat, her eyes softened just a moment too long before forcing herself to resume her professional demeanor, "You seem... different."

Kara leaned slightly forward, offering Barbara a better view of her transformative look, her lips curving into a playful, enticing smile. "I'm just... trying out new looks. You like?" Kara's voice was infused with a seductive undertone, teasing the boundaries of their professional relationship.

Barbara blinked, a hint of red appearing on her cheeks as she momentarily lost herself in the hypnotic allure that was Kara now. Recovering, she adopted a more serious expression, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "I... I don't care. Just don't let it affect your work."

Taking a deep breath, Barbara Florence proceeded to detail the assignment, trying her best to concentrate on the tasks at hand rather than the radical differences in her normally reserved employee. She handed over a file filled with documents, her fingers lingering a bit as Kara took it from her, a strange, electric charge seemingly passing between them.

Kara nodded, the twinkle in her eye evident. "Understood, Barbara," she replied, her voice a purr, adding an unspoken layer of promise, a pledge of unexpected possibilities, a tantalizing suggestion that left Barbara slightly breathless as Kara turned and left the room.

As Kara settled into her desk, she tried to sink back into the familiar rhythm of work, yet a kind of boredom quickly engulfed her, the mundane tasks before her were unable to hold her interest. She felt restless, a kind of warm urge bubbling just beneath her skin, nudging her to explore, to experiment.

Looking up, she found herself met with the attentive eyes of a few men still looking her way. A smile curved her lips — one of implicit understanding and mutual desire. Kara moved about the work place with a new mission. Every gesture bore an undercurrent of seduction, and there was a feline grace in the way she leaned over to reach for something, each bend and stretch a calculated art of the tease, a promise of more, delivered in the language of sensuality, written in the curves of her body.

Picking up a pencil became an act of ballet, her body arching gracefully, the lean over the copier performed with a dancer’s poise, each little act intensified, each breath becoming a silent symphony that echoed with resounding notes of desire.

And then Susan appeared, a kind and familiar presence that suddenly felt incongruent in the heightened, pulsating rhythm Kara was nurturing. 

"Hey girlfriend! Lunch? We could-  Wow.... you look...." She started, staring at Kara, mouth agape.

Susan's invitation to lunch sounded hollow, a grim reminder of a mundane world that no longer fit the dazzling script Kara was penning in her mind’s eye. 

“No Susan, I’m going to lunch with someone else today. Buh bye!” Kara blurted, as if compell to do so.

The dismissal was both spontaneous and effortless, a surprising break from the mild mannered Kara everyone knew. There was a flicker of something — was it guilt? — but it was quickly submerged by a more potent force, a compelling desire to embrace this newfound freedom, this unapologetic assertion of her femininity. Why shouldn’t she revel in her own magnificence? The question echoed louder, drowning out the tiny whispers of caution.

As she locked eyes with Frank, the office hunk, a slow burn of anticipation ignited within her, a thrilling promise of what lay ahead, a path of unexplored pleasures and desires waiting to be unraveled. It felt liberating, the chains of conformity breaking away, giving rise to a pulsating, vibrant energy that danced to the rhythm of her own drum, seductive and wild. 

"Mmm. Lunch." she said to herself, as her eyes lingered on the bulge in Frank's pant.

* * *

Kara and Frank were in a world of their own as they sat having lunch on the patio of a busy downtown cafe, the conversation flowing naturally between them. Every sentence, every look exchanged had an underlying current of newfound energy, a flirtatious tone that was both exhilarating and slightly terrifying.

"...so, you see, that's when I decided that I just wasn't cut out for surfing. I mean, can you imagine me on a board?" Frank was saying, his laughter mixing with Kara's, a harmonious sound that filled the space between them with warmth and light.

"Oh, I don't know, Frank," Kara replied, her voice rich with teasing as she leaned in, her finger playfully poking at his arm, her eyes twinkling with mirth and something more enticing, more daring. "I think you'd look quite dashing, wiping out wave after wave."

Frank chuckled, a blush creeping up his neck as he playfully swatted her hand away. "Oh, stop it, you," he said, but his grin was wide, his eyes alive with merriment.

As the laughter subsided, a charged silence fell over them, and it was within this electrified quiet that Kara found the courage to venture, her voice dropping to a sultrier tone, "So... when are you going to take me out, handsome?"

Before Frank could respond, a sudden commotion from the street tore his attention away. His eyes widened in alarm as he noticed a masked man sprinting past their café, holding a sack that clearly contained stolen items.

Kara followed his distracted gaze and for a split second, the age-old instinct to protect, to serve justice, flared up within her. She almost rose, almost excused herself to chase after the criminal in a flash of red and blue. But as quickly as it came, the compulsion died down, replaced by an alien apathy that was both shocking and surprisingly comforting.

She mumbled under her breath, in a tone so indifferent it surprised her, or it should have, "Eh, whatever. What? Am I supposed to catch them all?"

Frank turned back towards her, his face showing confusion as he asked, "Did you say something?"

A bewildering mix of recklessness and desire swarmed within her, urging her to forsake the duty that had defined her for so long. Kara leaned in closer, her hand finding its way to Frank's as she playfully whispered, dismissing the outside world and its petty crimes, “Oh, nothing.”

Her face was a canvas of temptation as she continued, the blue depths of her eyes darkening with promises of forbidden adventures, “So, what should we do tonight? Dinner? Dancing? Or... something else?”

Frank seemed to be lost in her gaze, the anxious lines of concern that had marked his face a moment ago smoothing out, replaced by a curious, excited glint in his eye as he found himself drawn into Kara’s seductive web. 

* * *
"Aaand this is my bedrooom. Where the magic happens." Kara said, as she opened the door and gave Frank a indicating nod, subtley inviting him inside.

Franks replied with an arroused but slightly nervous tone. "Oh. Yeah, it's nice. I thought first we might pour ourselves a glass of-" 

"Nope! I wanna get fucked, and I want it now!" Kara said abruptly, grabbing Frank by the shirt and nearly tossing him across the room. She was feeling it, the drive, the seductive vixen inside her. It was all so new and frightening, but this behavior felt so natural, so easy.

"Oh! You're... strong." He said, as he fell back, sitting on the bed.

"I'm fucking horny, Frank. I know you want it. I want it... mmm... so bad. Frank... how big is your cock? I wanna see it." Kara voice was sultry, filled with need. "Take it out. No! Let me..."

Kara moved towards Frank like a predetor stalking it's prey. She could hardly believe herself, the way she moved, the way she was behaving. She hardly knew Frank, really. Yet here she was, kneeling at his feet, unzipping his pants, looking up into his submissive eyes. He gave a quick gasp as she fished is dick out.

"Oooh. It is big and thick." Kara said as she licked her cherry red lips, slowy pumping his cock. 

Without another word Kara's mouth was around his shaft, slowly sliding up and down it, becaming more and more moist and sloppy with each pass. Frank leaned his head back and moaned deeply. 

Kara releases his cock with a pop from her lips. Without a word she rose to her feet and quickly ripped her top and bottoms off, as if they were fastened by velcro, Frank asumed.  Kara tossed her tattered clothes aside and stood over him, like a well toned athelete with perfect perky breast and alert nipples, but her pose was that of a porn star. Her pelvis moved in little circles as her hands explored her tits and hips, and then worked their way down her chisled abs, to settle outside her engorged, wet,  pink pussy.

"I deserve this, Frank. I've been a good girl. Tonight, I'm gonna feel gooood... in here." Her fingers tease her cunt, diving in and then back out with a slurp.

Frank stared with a stupid expression, trapped in his own lust riddled mind. He was about to say something dirty, to get into the mood, but Kara lept on top of him before he had the chance.

Kara postioned Frank, squating above him with her leads spread open. Her pussy hovered over Frank stiff dick and her eyes were looked drunk with sex and need. Then, in one steady motion, she lowered herself onto him.

"Oooooh! Fuck yessssss." Kara purred, smiling and poking her tongue out of the side of her mouth, like a naughty slut.

She started slowly at first. Pump after pump. Each thrust sounded wet and sticky, each thrust came with a feminine grunt, getting louder and louder.

"Ung! Ung! Ung! That's it! Give it to me. Give me what I deserve. This dick is mine! Ung! Ung!" Kara's voice sounded sensual and powerful, with a primal confidence that she'd never had before.

"W- wait... ow... Kara-" Frank said, visiblely uncomfortable. 

"Shhhhh! Let it happen! I need this! I deserve this!" Kara put her hand over his mouth and closed her eyes, as she continued to increase the pace.

More and more. Harder and harder. She pounded him, milked his dick, slapping against his thighs with powerful slaps. This was it. This is what she needed! She wasn't worried about the end of the world or the lives of inocent people. She was getting fucked by a man who was almost a stranger. She was making her body feel pleasure in ways she never alowed herself feel before. And it was good, so very good. Her mind went blank, as a well of sexual energy built up inside her. This was is it. It was the mindless bliss she needed! She pounded harder and hard. More and more. She needed this! She deserved this! Then, as the peaks of her passion reached it's highest height, she gave one last huge thrust, and with a loud "CRACK"... she came. 

Kara came harder that she ever had before. Her body gyrated and convulsed at speeds so fast, she looked like a blurred of hair and skin on a vibrating bed. Her screams of pleasure shattered a nearby window, and a distance car alarm could be heard. After almost a full minute, she calapsed. 

A moment of stillness. The faint sound of the evening wind passed through the bedroom window. Kara stirred, starting to come to. There was a peaceful presence inside her. A warm welcome feeling of contentment washed over her. It was nice and quiet, but something was off. It was too quiet.

Confusion knit her brows as she pulled back slightly. "Frank?" she teased, a playful lilt in her voice, expecting a light response or a mischievous reply.

Nothing. Frank lay still. Eyes closed. 

"Frank, this isn't funny..." Her voice trailed off, the smile dying on her lips as reality began its cruel descent. The color drained from her world as she fully retracted, her eyes taking in the man before her — too still, too silent.

A cold realization washed over her, sobering the intoxication of her earlier desires. Her hands, now instruments of destruction, shook as they hovered over him, terrified to confirm what every cell in her body already knew.

"No," she whispered, a denial weak and fading. "No, no, no..." The words became a mantra, a prayer to rewind time, to take her back to before this moment, to prevent her from inviting him, to stop her from touching the Black Kryptonite. But no divine intervention came, only the stifling, immutable silence of her bedroom.

The weight of what transpired hit her like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs. For a surreal second, the influence of the Black Kryptonite surged, offering her an escape hatch: a route to apathy, to disconnection, where this was just another casualty in the world's endless litany of tragedies. A temptation to view it all as distant as a character in a film.

But this wasn't a distant tragedy. It was a horror of her own making, in her own bed, by her own hands. The protective numbness attempted to envelop her heart, but the sheer magnitude of grief, of undeniable guilt, shattered its advances. The dam broke, and a tidal wave of anguish flooded in, raw and unrelenting.

Tears, hot and torrential, streamed down her face as her body wracked with sobs, each one a crescendo of agony.

 "Oh God! Oh God! I'm so sorry." she managed between the waves of grief, her voice a broken croak. "Please...please, this isn't happening!" But the stillness remained unbroken, a testament to her newfound nightmare.

The room spun around Kara, reality skewing as time itself seemed to stutter. The air was too thick, the walls too close, the ceiling too low. Frank's still, silent form was a loud echo against the backdrop of her unraveling certainty, an undeniable testament to a truth she couldn't bear to face. It was too much, all too much, and the sobs wracking her body were both a lament and a plea for some form of release.

In the turmoil of her emotions, her gaze fell upon the shard of Black Kryptonite, glinting darkly on the floor amidst the chaos. It was a sliver of night, a piece of the vast, indifferent cosmos brought down to her level, and it called to her. In her fractured state, it felt like the only stable thing in a world gone mad with grief and shock.

Almost without thinking, Kara found herself reaching for it, compelled by a force beyond her comprehension. The shard was cool against her fingertips, an island of sense-numbing chill in the heat of her despair. Acting on a whisper-thin impulse, she brought it to her lips, and the world seemed to hold its breath.

The moment the Black Kryptonite entered her mouth, it was as if she'd breached some fundamental law of the universe. The material defied description, neither solid nor entirely ethereal, and it seemed to melt on her tongue like the most forbidden of confections. An electric tingle raced through her nerves, promising oblivion, offering respite.

The sobs that had been tearing from her throat began to subside, morphing into soft, involuntary moans. These sounds were foreign, almost unsettling in their pleasure, originating from a place deep within her that craved relief, craved escape. The guilt, the horror, the crushing weight of what she'd done to Frank began to recede, replaced by a growing tide of something that was darkly, frighteningly, deliciously sweet.

Kara moved the black shard in and out of her mouth, treating it the same way she treated Frank's shaft just moments ago. She moaned more and began to slurp it, as her saliva coated the eight inch piece of dark crystal. Lost in the moment, Kara laid on her back, opening her legs, and with one hand still holding the shard at it's base and pumping it inside her lips, the other hand wandered towards her wet, juicey, slit.  

Kara sunk her fingers into her snatch, and there they stayed, wiggling and writhing inside her, pushing up against her swollen clit. Her eyes rolled back inside her head. 

She wasn't aware of the changes at first, so completely was she drawn into the whirlpool of sensations the Black Kryptonite created. But slowly, as the pleasure built and her numbness grew, she started to expand in certain places. It started subtle, in her chest and hips, a gentle swell that seemed in perfect harmony with her breathing, straining against the fabric of her clothing, demanding to be acknowledged, to be seen. Bigger and bigger she got, but her waist stayed thin and toned. Her ass tightened and grew, reshaping the contours of her body, a perfect plump peach squashed beneath her trembling body. 

Kara moaned as her lips began to grow and inflate into sensual pillows. She moaned even louder as the sensetivity in her new lips increased, making the movement of the shard in her mouth, in and out, begun to feel good... so good.

"Mmmmmmm. Yesssssth."

Her hair, once limp and lifeless from her sweat and tears, was revitalizing, growing rapidly in length and volume. It cascaded around her shoulders like a living, silken tapestry, each strand shimmering with a vitality that seemed to echo the  dark purple energy now coursing through her veins.

"Hm? Wha-?" Kara looked down at her new form and felt, in spite of herself, a glowing sense of pride. Her body jerked, cumming briefly, rewarding her for the thought.

Huddled on the cold floor, Kara took the shard out of her mouth and clutched it close to her new, bigger bossom. 

"I need this," she whispered to the darkness, her voice hollow, a shell of the Supergirl she once was, "I deserve this." And within the quiet despair of that admission, the world faded to a numb, comforting grey.