DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR EASILY OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL, BONDAGE, DISCIPLINE, FEMALE SUBMISSION OR OTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS.

Ms Americana is the creation of Mr. X.

Please direct all comments and feedback to dark_one@live.com.

MS AMERICANA: CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR

By Dark One

The sleazy motel room still stank of stale sex. It was a popular spot for prostitutes before Ms Americana put them out of business three days back. Most of the hookers that worked there were still in county jail. The rest just moved somewhere else, but she'd find them and it would all start over again. Right now she had a bigger fish to fry.

There were two things about the Crazy Night's Motel that made everything come together that night. First, all the rooms were rigged with peepholes and setup for audio-video recording. Second, Amon "Big Daddy" Vanderholm used the motel to make his political payoffs. Big Daddy was a political power wannabe. He was throwing his considerable fortune around Delta City and Delta County politics, literally "buying" elections for his lackeys. After the last election, just a week back, he controlled most of the county elected offices. He only had about a third of the Delta City officials in his pocket so far, but there was a special election coming up in three months that could put him in firm control of the city as well.

"His political ambitions die here tonight," Ms Americana said, grinning.

She shuddered to think of what would've become of Delta City if she'd not discovered his highly illegal activities and learned of tonight's payoff. He was rigging the elections to put in office pro-business, anti-environmentalist politicians. If his group of supporters got control of the city and county, their business "friends" would strip the available resources in no time, leaving Delta City a barren, polluted cesspit.

Ms Americana had four camcorders setup to record the payoff of several election officials in the room next door. That evidence would be sufficient to put him in prison, and shatter his fledgling political empire.

A long white limo pulled up outside. Ms Americana watched as Big Daddy was helped out. True to his name, he was a big man. Morbidly obese, in fact. Big Daddy was as fat as he was rich, and he was the richest man in the state.

The next person to emerge from the limo made Ms Americana scowl. Ashley Vanderholm was Big Daddy's trophy wife. She was twenty-five years his junior at thirty-five. Ms Americana grew up with Ashley, maiden name of Tinsley. They were lifelong rivals and despised each other on sight when Ashley transferred to young Brenda Wade's private school in fourth grade. Where Brenda was athletic and excelled in all sports, Ashley was Captain of the Cheerleaders and a social butterfly.

Ashley married Big Daddy Vanderholm six months after graduating high school, and three months after taking a job as his personal assistant. His ex-wife of forty years was paid off and shipped off to Palm Springs. Some said Ashley was the one that got Big Daddy interested in becoming a political kingpin.

In contrast to her husband's obesity, Ashley was as blonde, shapely and gorgeous as a woman could be. She spent three hours a day in the gym and had a body to rival Brenda Wade's, though Ashley's legendary breasts were known to be surgically enhanced to achieve her 42DD state. Ashley wore only the tightest, skimpiest of outfits to show off her body.

Ms Americana stepped to the wall and pressed her masked eye to the peephole. She watched as Big Daddy and his wife entered, surrounded by four steely-eyed bodyguards and a pair of simpering lackeys. Several heavy briefcases were carried in, holding the payoff money. To her delight, they sat around while they waited on the first appointment and discussed their actions and plans. All was caught on tape.

"Keep talking, you overconfident fat cats," Ms Americana muttered.

When the first clearly skittish election official arrived, he collected his briefcase. To Ms Americana's delight, he opened it and counted the money. He was thanked, and promised his full cooperation in the upcoming city elections, and left. Five minutes later the next official arrived, and they came at a rate of about five an hour for three hours.

Ms Americana had six hour tapes in all the camcorders, but she decided the time was right. There was more than enough evidence collected to put them all away for a long time. So she picked up the cell phone and dialed the pre-arranged number.

"Special Agent Sanders, mission accomplished," she said. "Come and get them."

Five minutes later she was mentally patting herself on the back when she glanced out the side window. She saw dozens of police cars speeding down the road, just coming over the horizon, heading for the motel with lights flashing, but still five minutes away. It was a long straight highway. She cursed silently, for the fools never said they would bring the local sheriff's deputies. Those yahoos didn't know anything about subtly, and Big Daddy, Ashley and their goons would see them coming and escape. They could be on Big Daddy's private jet in no time, and out of the country before she could sort out the police fiasco and get them after him again.

Big Daddy's room was facing the highway out front, while Ms Americana was in the room behind it. First floor, on the south end of the building. The FBI and police were coming at them from the south, and both rooms had side windows facing that direction.

Thinking fast, Ms Americana scrambled out of her room and raced around front. She kicked in the door of Big Daddy's room and charged in. Two steps in she struck her world famous super heroine pose: red gloved fists on well rounded hips, 44DDs thrust out, and chin high. Everyone turned to gawk at the scantily clad super heroine, slack-jawed and dumbstruck.

"Halt, miscreants! You are all under arrest," Ms Americana declared, claiming everyone's undivided attention. No one would see the police coming now. "And you ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Rigging an election has to be the most Un-American act possible. It goes against all we stand for!"

Her plan was working fabulously. No one was looking out the south window, so didn't know the police were about to come storming in and arrest them. She just had to delay them a bit longer.

"Ms Americana, how did you?....I mean, how...," Big Daddy said, then his dark, pig-eyes dropped to her 44DDs and he swallowed hard.

Ms Americana smiled knowingly. That was the very reason she wore the skimpy, star-spangled bikini costume. All the men were having a tough time keeping their eyes off her spectacular, and legendary, tits. It was such momentary distractions that gave her the advantage she needed more often than not. She hoped they enjoyed the sight of her hooters, for they wouldn't see many where they were going.

"Get her, boys," Ashley snapped, taking charge. Ms Americana glared daggers at her childhood rival. Unfortunately, most women weren't particularly enthralled by her massive endowment, and many proved quite annoyed in her presence. "It's just one woman, for God's sake."

"Wrong again, Ashley," Ms Americana snarled, blue eyes flashing. "I'm a super heroine. The Queen of Justice, to be precise, and no mere goon can stand against my might and righteous fury."

"Righteous fury? Oh, please! Someone slap the snot out of that uppity bitch," Ashley demanded. "Ten thousand dollars to the man or men that takes her down."

Four men with more muscle than brains charged the Queen of Justice. She almost snorted in contempt. Only four? Everyone knew Ms Americana was stronger than any ten men combined. So she cut left and let loose with a powerful roundhouse to the head of one of the bodyguards. He dropped like a sack of rocks. As soon as her stiletto heeled foot found the floor again, she shifted her weight, cocked her hip and snapped a kick sideways into the gym-hardened abs of the next goon. Despite all his hard work, Ms Americana doubled him up on the floor easily.

"This the best you have, Ashley? I'm not even breaking a sweat here."

"No, I'm the best, bitch," a goon snarl from behind her.

Before she could turn to face him, his thick arms wrapped around her throat and chest. No surprise, one of his hands came to rest on her heavy tit. So she grabbed the wrist of the hand on her tit with one hand and reached back for his head with the other.

"I don't think so," the fourth goon said, seizing her arm before she grabbed his cohort.

"Hey! Let go, you imbecile," she cried.

The goon she kicked in the belly earlier staggered over and grabbed her other arm. Ms Americana suddenly found both of her arms pulled to the sides and held firmly. Even her super strength couldn't break their hold.

"Strip her!" Big Daddy demanded as he waddled up to her. Then after a second leering at her massive mammaries, he reached out and seized the bikini top between her tits. "I'll do it."

With a strong jerk, Ms Americana was rendered topless. Her titanic 44DD tits dropped and jounced enticingly before the goggle-eyed men. Ashley stood in the background and fumed, once again forgotten in the presence of a superior, prettier woman.

Big Daddy's pudgy hands immediately rose up to fondle her tits. She gasped and writhed in the strong grasp of his men, but was unable to avoid his lusty hands.

"Stop it! I'm Ms Americana. A super heroine," she demanded. "This isn't right."

He kept right on playing with her tits, a look of wonder and awe on his fat face. Ms Americana's 44DDs were the finest, largest natural tits he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing, much less playing with.

"Dammit, Big Daddy, unmask her," Ashley said. "Find out who she really is, and we put an end to her goody-two-shoe activities forever."

"No!" Ms Americana cried in her most authoritative voice. Everyone froze for a brief second, then began snickering.

Ms Americana was frantic, but even with her power belt she didn't have the strength and leverage to break free. She was unable to do more than writhe, grunt and make mewling noises. That, of course, amused the criminals abusing her.

"Halt!" a commanding voice shouted. "FBI! You're all under arrest."

Saved! Ms Americana cried silently.

# # #

Ms Americana smiled at the news media and their camera crews as she approached the Sheriff Department and County Detention Facility. It was a ten-story structure near downtown. Being the newest jail facility in the county, most of the convicted criminals served their county and city time there. A large number of the inmates there at the time were sent there by Ms Americana, including quite a few hookers from the Crazy Nights Motel sting.

"Ms Americana! A moment please!" Tami Jamz called. She was the star reporter of the number one news station in Delta City. "What does this bust mean to Delta City and Delta County?"

"It means that justice prevails and the rule of law is supreme," she said. "Big Daddy and his environment raping friends are put on notice. Ms Americana is on the job, and she's watching them. I won't allow them to exploit and destroy our beautiful forests and protected wildlife areas. Mr. and Mrs. Vanderholm thought they were above the law just because they were rich. But if you break the laws of our society, then you must and will pay for it. No exceptions."

With that, Ms Americana smiled brightly at the camera and stepped away sharply. She'd learned years ago a good sound bite was worth a million word speech.

"You heard her Delta City, justice will prevail," Tami Jamz said into the camera. "Back to you in the studio."

Ms Americana gave a few more brief interviews before she finally reached the front door. Four sheriff's deputies were at the door. The door was opened for her and the press was kept outside. She sighed, enjoying the respite.

"Ms Americana," Sheriff Lawson called, marching sharply toward her.

"Yes, Sheriff?" she said, smiling politely.

"You're under arrest," he said.

Before his words registered, the four deputies jumped Ms Americana. Her arms were pulled back and handcuffs placed on her wrists. A second later her power belt was removed.

"You won't be needing this," Sheriff Lawson said, taking the power belt from his deputy.

"How dare you! I'm Ms Americana! The Queen of Justice," she cried, outraged and feeling terribly vulnerable as she tugged futilely at the tight handcuffs. "Release me immediately, or else."

"Or else? Is that a threat?" Sheriff Lawson said, a glint in his dark eyes. "Add the charge of threatening an officer of the law to the list of charges."

"List of charges? What charges?" she said. "I've done nothing illegal."

"Really? A judge will decide that, Ms Americana," the sheriff said brusquely. "But, to answer your question, multiple complaints of assault and battery, not to mention illegal restraint, have been filed against you, Ms Americana."

"By whom?"

"Big Daddy Vanderholm, his wife, and some of his security people," he said.

"Those are false charges, you imbecile! They are only striking back at me for catching them red-handed paying off election officials," she said. "Surely you can see that."

"I'm just an officer of the law, Ms Americana, doing my duty," Sheriff Lawson said. He smiled evilly at her a brief second, reminding her that Big Daddy was a supporter of his as well. Then to his deputies, "Process her. I want her fingerprinted and photographed quickly, then toss her in Holding Cell 69."

"What?" she cried, struggling helplessly in the deputies' grasps. "Are you mad? I'm Ms Americana! You know, the Queen of Justice. The premier super heroine in America today."

"Oh, that reminds me," Sheriff Lawson said, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't forget to remove her mask for the mug shot. I wanted her photographed both in the mask and out of it. I want to know who she really is, and so will the judge."

"Nooooo!" she cried as they dragged her away.

Even without her power belt, it took all four deputies to get Ms Americana to the processing room. First thing, they took her to get her mug shots. Still handcuffed, she was pushed up against the wall and her picture was taken from all angles.

"Now for the mask," Deputy Jones said. "I'm going to enjoy this."

He was a big black deputy with a permanent scowl. She never got along with him. He was one of many police officers who seemed to resent super heroine assistance. Indeed, now that she thought about it, the sheriff's department as a whole never really seemed to warm up to her.

"Please, don't do this," she said, eyes wild behind her mask.

Two deputies held her tight, and he reached out and grabbed the edge of her mask. Then with vicious glee, he slowly pealed away her mask. The deputies stared at her revealed face intently for a long moment, then she saw recognition dawn in Deputy Jones' face.

"Brenda Wade! The rich bitch," he said. "How sweet."

Ms Americana suddenly realized the camera was flashing away. She was turned all different ways, and photographed extensively. After that, the handcuffs and her gloves were removed for finger printing. Before she knew it, Ms Americana was being led unmasked through the back corridors of the detention facility to Holding Cell 69.

"Hello, ladies," Deputy Jones said pleasantly. "I think you'll recognize your old friend, Ms Americana. Oh, wait, she's been unmasked and arrested. Seems Ms Americana is really none other than multi-millionairess Brenda Wade. I'm sure her army of lawyers will be arriving soon to post bail and spring her. So you don't have much time together."

Ms Americana was horrified. Holding Cell 69 was full of the hookers she arrested a few days back. A dozen faces looked at her, with looks ranging from wrath to wicked glee.

"Not in there," she said. "Please, that is cruel and unusual punishment. I demand solitary."

"Oh, shut up, bitch," Deputy Jones said, and opened the cell door. He then thrust her into the cell with force. "Have fun, girls."

"Sweet Liberty, you didn't remove my handcuffs! I'll be at their mercy like this!"

Ms Americana was quickly surrounded by a dozen young, pretty women. All hookers she'd rounded up, and with no little force either. How they had screamed threats at the time. Threats she ignored.

"OK, ladies, let's not do anything we'll regret later," she said nervously.

"You talking to us, Ameri-tits?" a young blonde said. She was called Sunshine on the street. A runaway from a wealthy family in New York City. Sunshine was a real beauty, with big blue eyes, nice tits and a shapely ass. She was still in her hooker gear: black stiletto Fuck Me Pumps, black hose, red leather mini and lacy black bustier top. "It seems you failed to take your own advised. We warned you, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we warned you," a redhead in all back leather snarled.

"I was doing my duty as an American," Ms Americana said proudly. "I'm a super heroine, charged with protecting our people from the forces of evil."

"Evil? What's evil about fucking? Even fucking for money," Sunshine demanded. "No one gets hurt, except us whores when goody-goody ass-wipes like you come a-calling. The johns treat us nice, and we return the favor."

"For money!"

"Sure, money changes hands, but everyone is happy afterwards."

"Except sexually repressed religious and feminist types," Livie said. She was a petite Vietnamese girl of less than five feet, with the sweetest face, mischievous eyes and bouncy pigtails. She wore a pair of red high-heeled sandals, white knee-highs and a schoolgirl outfit. "And, of course, holier-than-thou AND sexually repressed super heroines like you, Flag Girl, Power Lass and Got Gal, to name just a few."

"That's not true," Ms Americana said.

Before she could tell them why she believed prostitution was wrong, evil even, Sunshine reached out and ripped off her star-spangled bikini top. The half dozen jail guards and deputies watching the show started hooping and hollering their pleasure. Ms Americana felt her face heating up.

"Take her down, girls," Sunshine commanded.

Ms Americana was tackled and borne to the floor. She couldn't defend herself with her wrists handcuffed at the small of her back. So her bikini bottoms were quickly pulled down and off, then she was rolled over onto her back. Natasha and Livie lay beside her.

"OH! Oh! Stop it!" Ms Americana cried as delicate, feminine hands touch her pubic mound and breasts. Then one of Livie's fingers slipped between her hot, moist pussy lips. "Oooooo, no. This isn't right. I don't like it, so stop."

"You don't like it?" Livie said. "Then why are you so wet? Sopping wet, in fact."

"And why are your lips so warm and wet?" Natasha said huskily, and kissed her deeply.

Ms Americana froze in place. All she knew for several seconds were Natasha's full, red lips sliding over her lips in an erotic, greasy lipstick kiss that didn't seem to end. She felt her breasts start to tingle, and the heat increased in her nether regions that Livie was so deftly exploring with her delicate little fingers. There was something terribly erotic about the feel of feminine fingers, long nails and all, deep inside her sex. Then Natasha started rolling her nipple between her fingers, tugging and pinching.

"Mmmmm," Ms Americana groaned, then shook herself out of it. She couldn't surrender to these women. She refused to put on a lesbian sex show for those horrid men watching. Then Livie leaned over and inserted her hot tongue between her throbbing pussy lips. "Unnnmmmmmm!"

Natasha released her lips to kiss her way across Ms Americana's cheek to her ear, then down her neck, shoulder and finally ended up at her titanic tits. She wasted no time sucking in an engorged nipple.

"Ohh, yessss," Ms Americana breathed. She watched Natasha and Livie through hooded eyes. "Oh, my. Ohhh. Oh my, this isn't....Ooooo....Isn't right. I have a reputation. Young women and girls look up....Aaeeii...Oooo....Look up to....Ahhhhh."

Livie started sucking on her clitoris, all the while she was finger fucking the beautiful super heroine's love canal. Then to her dismay, Natasha slipped a finger into her vagina as well, and started massaging her G-spot while Livie finger fucked her and sucked on her clit.

It was too much for the vanquished heroine.

Ms Americana felt that delightful tingle of sexual use turn into that heady rush to climax. And what a climax it looked to be. She gasped and arched her back almost painfully. Neither Natasha nor Livie ceased or lost their hold on the beautiful heiress turned super heroine. They rubbed, licked and sucked Ms Americana into the most powerful, longest lasting orgasm of her life.

People started clapping.

Ms Americana looked up at the assembled guards and deputies, and locked eyes with someone she didn't expect to see. Ashley Vanderholm!

"Well met, BRENDA," Ashley sneered, her eyes dancing with wicked delight. "Victory is mine, at long last. And it is so sweet."

"What are you doing here? You should be in jail," she said, astonished.

"I was released. No evidence," she said smugly. "Strangest thing. All those incriminating tapes you took....nothing. Nothing on them at all. Imagine Special Agent Sanders' dismay! Well, to make a long story short, the good Special Agent has been called back to Washington to explain this outrage, and you have been arrested, unmasked and destroyed. In fact, I was watching the Special Report on TV about your arrest, along with the mug shots of Ms American and Brenda Wade. No matter if you win or lose your court case, Ms Americana is no more."

"Don't worry, Miss Vanderholm, she'll do time for her criminal behavior," Deputy Jones said, dark eyes intent on Ms Americana's exposed 44DDs. "Believe me, she'll spend the next few months here in county jail."

"Getting some wonderful training in cunnilingus, I suspect," Ashley said with a shit-eating grin.

"Excellent idea!" Sunshine said. She stepped over Ms Americana, so that the super heroine looked straight up her red leather micro mini and saw her exposed pussy. It was shaven and there was a sheen of pussy juices on it. She squatted over her face. Ms Americana found Sunshine's twat an inch from her full red lips. "Eat me, Ms Ameri-whore."

When Ms Americana hesitated, "Natasha. Punish."

Natasha bit down on Ms Americana's now hypersensitive nipple. Then Livie clamped her teeth down her aroused clit. Ms Americana screamed and bucked, but couldn't dislodge the vicious whores biting her most sensitive parts.

"I'll do it! I'll do it!" Ms Americana cried. "Stop biting. Please, stop biting."

"Enough," Sunshine said, amused eyes watching Ms Americana's face. "Now eat me like you mean it. If I don't cum, then my girls will hurt you bad."

Ashley laughed and taunted "Brenda" as she licked and sucked Sunshine's shaved pussy. In less than a minute she was totally absorbed in giving cunnilingus, slurping and groaning with wild abandon. She soon had Sunshine gasping and playing with her own tits, pulling and pinching her nipples. All the while, Natasha and Livie serviced Ms Americana's tits and pussy delightfully.

Ms Americana had three more orgasms before Sunshine exploded in her face in female orgasm. She licked the leader of the Cell Block 69 whores clean, then started on the next woman that squatted over her mouth. Then, for the next three hours Ms Americana ate out every whore in that cell.

"Excellent," Ashley said as Ms Americana groveled at Natasha's black booted feet. "Brenda Wade, a.k.a., Ms Americana, is finally tamed and cast aside."

Ms Americana heard her, but never ceased licking Mistress Natasha's booted foot. She took extra care with the five-inch stiletto heel, even going so far as to suck it like a cock.

"What are you?" Natasha demanded.

"Your fuck toy, Mistress Natasha."

"What's your name?"

"Ameri-slave, Mistress Natasha."

"Excellent, Ameri-slave," Mistress Natasha said, winking at Ashley. "Now it's time to start your slave training in earnest."

THE END