Powergirl

The sky over Metropolis didn't just change color; it became a pulsating, saccharine pink. Supergirl Kara Zor El soared through the atmosphere, her Kryptonian senses detecting the strange harmonic frequency before she could react. But the Anti Brain Equation wasn't a physical threat she could punch or fly away from. It was a conceptual poison.

As the frequency hit her ears, the world didn't shatter it melted.

Kara's mind, once a fortress of Kryptonian discipline and fierce lesbian pride, began to liquify. The equation tore through her identity like a hot knife through butter. First went her memories: the faces of the women she had loved, the ion she felt for her partner, the very belief that she was drawn to women. Then went her comprehension: the concept of 'lesbianism' itself became an alien, nonsensical word that slipped through her fingers like sand.

"I... I feel..." she started to gasp, but her voice climbed an octave, becoming breathy and hollow.

Then came the physical rewiring. The Anti Brain Equation didn't just erase her thoughts; it rebuilt her body to match her new, vapid reality. Her lean, powerful Kryptonian musculature softened, swelling into exaggerated, hyper feminine curves. Her breasts expanded with terrifying speed, becoming two massive, heavy mounds of soft flesh that strained against her suit. Her hips flared impossibly wide, and her waist nipped inward until she looked like a living cartoon of desire. Her skin took on an airbrushed, flawless sheen, and her eyes once sharp with intelligence glazed over into two sparkling, empty pools of pink bliss.

Even her understanding of civilization dissolved. The concept of 'clothes' became foreign to her. As her body swelled, her cape torn and her costume splitting under the pressure of her new tits and ass, she simply didn't care. Fabric felt restrictive, confusing, and unnecessary. She felt better naked bare, exposed, and ready.

The transformation was complete. The protector of Earth was gone. In her place stood a towering, curvy, pink hazed bimbo.

Arthur descended from the Daily Planet building, his unwashed, musky stench wafting up toward her. In her old life, the smell would have made her vomit. Now, as she hovered in the air, the scent of his stale sweat and raw virility hit her like a drug.

"Hey, pretty thing," Arthur grunted, unzipping his filthy pants to reveal his massive, throbbing cock. "You what you are now?"

Kara landed in front of him, her massive tits swaying with every movement. Her mouth hung open in a slack jawed grin, saliva glistening on her glossed lips. She didn't understand what a 'lesbian' was. She didn't understand why she used to hate men. All she understood was the throbbing, dark meat dangling before her.

"I'm... I'm a good girl," she chirped, her voice dripping with mindless need. "I'm just a pretty girl who needs... needs her Master's cock."

She didn't even wait for permission. She dropped to her knees, her enormous ass bumping against the rooftop, and began to worship the very thing she once would have fought to destroy.