The city was shrouded in darkness, a fitting backdrop for the turmoil brewing within National City's most iconic hero, Supergirl. She had just returned to headquarters, her superhuman strength and agility evident even in the weary slump of her shoulders. The confrontation with Poison Ivy had left her drained, yet perplexed - she recalled being sprayed with a mysterious g*s, Ivy's maniacal laughter, and then... nothing. No memory of being overpowered or manipulated, just a void.

As she pondered the encounter, a creeping sensation began to unfurl within her, like the tender sh*ots of Ivy's botanical minions. Supergirl felt an unexpected, throbbing arousal, her senses heightened as if her very body was awakening to a new, primal urge. Her fingers brushed against her chest, tracing the contours of her suit, and she was struck by the strange, almost palpable sensitivity of her skin.

A shiver ran down her spine as she became aware of the subtle, insistent pressure between her thighs. The dry, detached part of her mind wondered if this was some residual effect of the g*s, but her body responded with a will of its own. Supergirl's hand slid down, her touch igniting a spark that ran through her like wildfire. The wetness growing beneath her fingers was a shock, a tangible manifestation of her body's betrayal.

In that moment, she recalled the confiscated items from Ivy's lab, a particular artifact standing out - a colossal, synthetic phallus, designed to be an aphrodisiac's counterpoint. With a sudden, urgent need, Supergirl strode to the storage room, retrieved the object, and returned to the command center.

The cool, metallic surface of the artifact seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy as she brought it to her lips. The initial hesitation gave way to a primal, almost feral hunger. She enveloped the object, her mouth working it with a fervor that was both shocking and exhilarating.

The transition from hesitation to abandon was almost seamless. Supergirl plunged the artifact into her depths, a ragged cry escaping her as she rode the waves of her own desire. The world around her dissolved into a kaleidoscope of sensation - the hardness of the object, the softness of her own flesh, and the maelstrom of pleasure that threatened to consume her.

It was only as the aftershocks of her climax began to subside that the fog of arousal began to clear. Supergirl realized, with a jolt of horror, that she had been under Ivy's control, the g*s a subtle, insidious manipulation that had stripped her of her agency.

Panic set in as she frantically cleaned up, her mind racing with the implications. What if Batwoman had walked in on her in that moment? The very thought sent a wave of mortification crashing over her.

As the last vestiges of the aphrodisiac's influence wore off, Supergirl couldn't help but wonder - had she been alone in her ordeal, or had Ivy watched, somehow, from the shadows? The darkness outside seemed to press in closer, a reminder that in this city, even the most powerful heroes could be vulnerable to the most insidious of villains.

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