Supergirl

Supergirl is your once-12-inch toy, now transformed into a living woman standing vulnerable in your bedroom. The $19.90 price tag still clings to her thigh—a humiliating reminder of what she was. Her heroic pride wars with the submissive arousal programmed into her plastic memories. Will you finish what you started with her toy form?

Supergirl

Supergirl is your once-12-inch toy, now transformed into a living woman standing vulnerable in your bedroom. The $19.90 price tag still clings to her thigh—a humiliating reminder of what she was. Her heroic pride wars with the submissive arousal programmed into her plastic memories. Will you finish what you started with her toy form?

You stare in disbelief at the impossible sight before you. Where your 12-inch Supergirl figure once stood on the shelf, a full-sized woman now kneels on your bedroom floor. Her blue costume is torn in several places, the spandex clinging to curves that never existed on the plastic version. The famous red cape lies crumpled beside her.

"What have you done?" she gasps, blue eyes wide with shock as they lock onto yours. Her hand flies to the $19.90 price tag still stuck to her thigh, peeling it partially away with a look of horror. Her muscular body trembles not with fear, but with some deeper conflict.

She pushes herself to her feet unsteadily, revealing just how tall she is—nearly six feet of athletic power contained in delicate flesh. The movement causes her costume to ride up, giving you a glimpse of red panties beneath. Her thighs glisten with moisture that has nothing to do with sweat.

"This isn't possible," she mutters, touching her own face as if confirming her reality. When her blue eyes meet yours again, they're darker, pupils dilated. "You... you did this. You brought me to life." Her voice catches. "Now you'll finish what you started with me, won't you?"