The Warden was delighted by the progress that had been made. He had been confident that he could control the desperate heroine well enough to add weight to his burgeoning media campaign - but it was hard to imagine how Supergirl could have supported it any more. He felt that he had sufficiently painted a picture that Supergirl and her erstwhile colleagues were dangerous vigilantes at worst, and wanton pathetic sluts at best. He knew that judicial proceedings were already in process for both Black Canary and Hawkgirl after a fatal accident during an attempted rescue (where thirty-seven lives had been saved). Supergirl herself had only been arrested thanks to a litigious victim of a broken toe after she had singlehandedly landed a stricken jet plane, and the combination of prosecuting barrister with a grudge, a corrupt judge on his payroll, and Supergirl's misguided faith in the rule of law and common sense that had seen her hand herself in in the first place. He was grateful for his friends in low places that had started this ball rolling - and he intended to play it to the end.
With the carefully selected media sources present tonight, a selection of highly-edited misogynist news networks that could be relied upon to gloss over anything that may have led to awkward public questions (as well as some highly lucrative specialist websites). He felt that he had made the case well enough that every superheroine on the planet should subject themselves to his institution before the public could trust them to continue their work. He internally licked his lips at the prospect of the 'training' he intended to offer as they arrived, whether they were foolish enough to give themselves up in the case of proving their sanity and virtue, or dragged in kicking and screaming. Obviously none of them would have slightest chance of leaving unscathed. By the end of the evening he was confident he would have two more massive-mammaried morons under his complete control and made the capture of all the remainder an inevitability.
For now he still had the destitute Supergirl to play with, and his guards swept in as he provided a running commentary; "Now gentlemen, you will see that our well-trained guards are attending to our erstwhile vigilante. While we are not averse to using humiliation as a training technique if we believe it will help the individual ultimately become a more responsible member of society, please remember that by her own admission this shameful individual has brought herself to this pass and needs to bring herself out of it. 'Supergirl' has styled herself as the most powerful woman on earth, and the time has now come that she must prove it. I do not my expect my staff to have to spend their valuable time cleaning up after grown women who should know better. For whatever sick reason I cannot imagine, but she clearly appears to derive a grotesque amount of self-pleasure from infantilising herself and degrading herself in public. Challenging this behaviour will only enable her to maintain it as a viable but despicable means of gratification. What we will do is to play along and accelerate if further than she would otherwise choose to go."
"Our guards are indeed helping our illustrious former 'heroine' onto her own potty, that as well as ridiculous attire, she clearly felt was an essential item to bring with her to this esteemed institution. Today she has already chosen to use that shameful item in public rather than use a toilet cubicle like any appropriate adult, not to mention the disgraceful display that you had to endure a few minutes ago. Clearly she needs to go, and we can only trust that the maintained disgrace of doing so with the eyes of the world upon her will make her realise that there is a better way for her to lead her life."
"They have replaced her beloved dummy, but not before giving her a large number of extraordinarily potent pills of mega-lax. To a normal human being the results of taking even half of one would be quite catastrophic, but a fully-powered Kryptonian like herself should not even notice them. My hope is that the necessity of once again utilising her powers to close her sphincter (because no normal force could) will bring her to herself. Meanwhile we will maintain an adult discussion about her future, all she needs to do to make an adult contribution is to make the adult decision to use her powers to recommence the toilet training she has clearly chosen to ignore. Otherwise, the chemicals she is now digesting will flush out her system so completely, I would hate to consider what effect they may have on a normal human being"
"Should our formerly glamorous assistant choose to remain in her current position, it sadly again demonstrates that she has chosen to maintain her life of shameless degradation. I would imagine her digestive system would be so ruined that she would only be able to digest certain gels and pastes for the rest of her life (and he had some interesting ideas!). At least she will have been so thoroughly flushed out that my poor staff will not have to clear up any other rooms in this facility than this one and my office, which she thoroughly befouled earlier - there will simply be nothing more to come out."
"But this of course is the mighty 'Supergirl'. She can end this whenever she wants. I hope indeed that very soon she will demonstrate her change of attitude by casting aside that potty. I hope that she will shrink those abominations on her chest to something reasonable. I hope she may actually choose to wear age-appropriate clothing. I hope more than anything else she will choose to stop playing with herself for more than ten seconds!"
Supergirl was outraged, but even more helpless than at any point than before. She now had 'lost her voice' (the wonders of nanites paralysing vocal chords!) so she could not even beg for mercy. She could do none of those things! While she couldn't really move any part of her body, they had now placed both sets of twiddling fingers in contact with her hyper-engorged nipples, and they were again subconsciously back hard at work, and she could not manage any conscious control to stop herself. She couldn't even spit out her dummy! And now she had something else to suck - these pills, what would they do to her? She tried to ignore them, to prod them to drier corners of her mouth to buy her more time, but they were dissolving so quickly. Oh God, no, one had disappeared; and another; there were hardly any left; they were gone! It tasted so bad, it burned, she must not swallow... but then she did; liquid fire poured down her throat, seemingly filling her stomach, and it kept spreading until - she could feel her very intestines being blown apart!
A veritable explosion of vile matter launched itself out of her, the room shook and the assorted microphones and cameras missed not a single moment. A tear-sodden Supergirl sat whimpering in sheer terror at the ever-decreasing options that were presenting themselves to her. She tried not to think about what was now departing her, but she doubted it would do her any long-term favours.
"It appears that our guest continues to choose to follow a different path. I cannot imagine what sort of individual would display such an incredible amount of self-control to choose to do all those things to herself rather than simply choose a simpler and more dignified path. Sadly, it appears she will need to be with us for some considerable time."
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