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

 

Ms Americana / Brenda Wade, Flag Girl / Lydia Wills and Delta City are the creations of Mr. X.  I came up with the villains.

 

Please direct all comments and feedback to dark_one@live.com or visit my new blog at: /.  Please put Ms Americana, Story response, feed back or something like that in Subject line or I might delete thinking it is spam.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MS AMERICANA: BLISSFUL FATE

By Dark One

 

          Brenda Wade sat at a small bistro table in the upscale street café.  She was eating a salad, with a bottle of water.  It was her favorite restaurant.  She ate there almost everyday, Monday through Friday.  Sitting at her usual table, dressed in black silk suit and skirt, with black hose and stiletto pumps, Brenda was having a wonderful lunch until Erica Sambino walked up.

          "Ah, who do we have here?" Erica sneered.  "The salad's a good idea, Brenda darling.  You're ass is getting a bit big of late.  I would cut back on the salad dressing, though."

          Brenda patted around her mouth carefully with a napkin, then looked Erica over.  As usual, the Sambino Family Boss wore all leather.  Not kinky leather, but a high fashion leather outfit.  Today, she wore a white leather bolero jacket over a pale pink leather bustier.  The skirt was short and white leather, and the stiletto pumps were the same pink as the bustier.  Sparking diamonds glittered at her ears, throat and both wrists.  The leather outfit was tasteful, but the jewelry was gaudy.

          "To what do I own the pleasure of this visit?" Brenda said civilly, but just barely.  The two women glowered at each other a long second.  "Shouldn't you be off importing drugs or having someone close to you whacked?"

          Erica's dark eyes narrowed dangerously.  She flicked long, luxurious brown hair over her shoulder and stepped a bit closer.  Brenda noticed her right hand was a tight fist, which she placed next to Brenda's plate as she leaned over.

          "You should be more careful, Ms Wade," Erica said tightly.  "I would hate for something unfortunate to happened to the city's premier busybody, goody-two-shoe.  You know what I mean?"

          "I'm not afraid of you, Erica," Brenda said dismissively.

          "You should be."

          "Is there a reason you came over here?  I mean, besides ruining my lunch by giving me a sour stomach?" Brenda said, locking unflinching baby blue eyes on Erica's fierce brown eyes.

          "Yes.  I have a suggestion."

          "Which is?"

          "Forget my name.  Stop inciting the police, citizens and super heroines against me and my associates.  Leave us alone, and we'll leave you alone," Erica said.  "But if you continue…well, things could get a bit ugly."

          Brenda raised a haughty eyebrow at her.  It was true.  Brenda was trying to light a fire under the feet of the police, both local and state.  She was tired of the local crime families conducting business almost without fear of arrest or conviction.  She wasn't sure, but she thought the police were being paid off, and was pretty sure the new DA was in Erica's pocket as well.  Between her dual identities as Brenda Wade, billionaire, and Ms Americana, Queen of Justice, she planned to bring Erica and the Sambino Family down -- HARD.  The fact that Erica was taking the time to personally warn her off indicated she was feeling the heat, and was worried.

          "I see no reason to stop," Brenda said.  "I think I like the way the winds are blowing right now."

          "Humphf!" Erica huffed indignantly.  She graced Brenda with a withering, contemptuous sneer.  "Ignorance it bliss, they say.  I say this is bliss."

          With that, Erica's right fist opened to reveal a capsule.  A second later she snapped it under Brenda's nose.  The overpowering, thick stench of roses smashed into Brenda as the drug hit her.  And before she could take another breath, the grandfather of all climaxes smashed into her.

          "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!  Oh, Goddess!  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Brenda cried, back arched and hands clutching at her own breasts.

          "Have fun, Brenda," Erica said, and laughed as she turned on a heel and strode away.

          Brenda froze, wild-eyed, as she grabbed the edge of the table and just sat there trembling violently.  She glanced at Erica's retreating form -- loving the way her shiny, dark hair bounced with every step, loving the way her sweet round rump shook and wiggled.  As she watched her nemesis leaving, Brenda's hand crept down between her legs and began to rub her sopping wet pussy enthusiastically.

          "Ooooooooh," she groaned, so close and yet so far from supreme pleasure.

          Brenda understood what was happening, only too well.  Bliss was that most evil of date rape drugs currently on the black market.  One whiff, and the victim climaxed dramatically, and then became uncontrollably horny and wanton.  A small part of her mind, way down and in back, was screaming in rage and humiliation, but the greater part of her mind and shapely body was charging forward into lust and carnal delights full steam.

          "Is there a problem, Ms Wa….oh.  Ms Wade!" Eduardo, her waiter, said.  His eyes grew big as he realized where her hand was, and what it was doing.  Without thought, Brenda slid out of her chair and knelt before the twentysomething Hispanic waiter.  A second later his pants were unzipped and she had his cock in hand.  All he could do was gasp when she sucked his semi-flaccid cock into her mouth.  "Oh, God."

          "Mmmm," Brenda groaned.

          Eduardo quickly grew big and hard in her hot, eager mouth.  She rolled her tongue all around the head, then licked it up and down as she fondled his hairy balls.  Due to his surprise, and her natural talent and drug-induced ardor, Brenda quickly brought him to climax.  She gobbled all of his cum down with relish.

          "Mmmm, yummy," Brenda said, licking her lips as she looked around eager-eyed.  Oddly enough, there was another waiter behind Eduardo with tented pants.   "Come to momma, big boy."

          Brenda gave Billy a long minute of cock licking and head, then climbed up onto her table, yanked off her black thong panties, and spread her legs wide.  That gave everyone a good view of the bikini waxed and close cropped Promised Land, and showed that she was wearing black hose and matching garter belt.

          "Mount up, Cowboy," Brenda said, and guided Billy straight into her pussy.  He slid in easily, what with her twat being sopping wet and slippery with natural lubricants.  She shuddered violently it felt so good, so right, then let her head roll back and lolled around with her intense pleasure.  "Uuuuuggghhhhh, Goddess, that feels good."

          Like Eduardo, Billy was too excited to stay in the saddle long.  He was replaced by a passerby, who was replaced by one of the café's patrons after that.  Indeed, Brenda let seven men bang her on that table, before the manager came out and chased her away.

          "Last time I patronize your business!" Brenda shouted angrily as she staggered away.  She was so hot and sweaty now.  So she pulled off her thousand dollar suit jacket and tossed it away.  "Goddess, I need relief.  Need it badly."

          Under her jacket was a simple red silk chemise, with spaghetti straps.  It was thin, but she still felt hot.  So Brenda reached up under the chemise and pulled off her bra, releasing her massive 44DDs.  That felt better, and she rather enjoyed the enticing feel of her big fat tits bouncing freely as she walked, soft titty flesh rubbing against silky chemise.  Her nipples grew harder and more pronounced.  That attracted the undivided attention of every man she passed.

          <What am I doing?> Brenda thought, pausing at an intersection.  To the right was downtown and Wade Towers, and thus the safety of her office.  Straight ahead was a nightclub and restaurant district full of people out on their lunch break.  Lots of people.  And to her left, three blocks away, was the outskirts of Sugar Town, the meanest, seediest and largest of Delta City's many red light districts.  <Erica drugged me with Bliss, of all things.  I am burning up with need.  I am so going to get that bitch!>

          So Brenda headed for Wade Towers.  She was, as she kept silently repeating to herself, a superior woman and more than strong enough to overcome the affects of a single whiff of Bliss though sheer willpower.

          A loud rumbling roar came up from behind and the outlaw biker slowed to pace Brenda as she strode down the sidewalk, titanic tits bouncing enticingly.  The statuesque billionaire tried to ignore him, now that she had regained some of her senses.  Thank the Goddess she was a superior woman and was capable of overcoming the effects of Bliss so well.

          "Hey, Sweetheart, wanna go for a joy ride on my bike?" the biker said

          Brenda whirled on him to give him a big, bitter piece of her mind.  But she was stunned speechless.  He was a magnificent god of a man -- broad shoulders, narrow waist, long dark hair and piercing blue eyes.  He was tan, wearing faded jeans and a leather vest.  Brenda's libido went into overdrive and she gasped from loss of breath.

          "Huh?" she barely managed.  "I-I mean….Oh Goddess, save me…."  She groaned, but couldn't help herself.  He was so fuckable, and she needed it so badly.  "I'd rather you go for a joy ride on me, baby."  She stepped off the sidewalk, sat down behind him and reached around to grab his crotch.  "Let's go."

          The biker quickly did a U-turn and headed for Sugar Town.  He pulled into the first alley in Sugar Town, and pulled her around to straddle his waist.  They kissed deeply for a long time, before he pushed her back atop the gas tank of his Harley and pulled out his big dick.

          Brenda spread her mile long legs wide, creating a wide, sexy V pointing up and out.  She watched with bated breath as he guided his cock straight to, and into her pussy.  She bit her lower lip and groaned wantonly as that thick shaft spread her wide and pushed deeper and deeper.

          "You're that rich bitch on TV always preaching chastity, aren't you?" the biker sneered as he pushed her chemise up over her 44DDs.  "That Brenda Wade chick, right?"

          "Yes," she said, and groaned.  "I'm Brenda Wade.  Oh, baby.  Harder.  Please, fuck me harder."

          "Cool," he said, and obliged by doubling the rate of pumping in and out of her tight, slippery cunt.  Then he leaned over and started to suck, nibble and lick her perfect pair.  "Mmmmmm, great titties."

          "Oooooh.  Aaaaaaaaawww, baby," Brenda cried softly.  "You're so good to me.  Oh, yes, just like that."

          The sexy business and moral icon writhed wantonly beneath the biker, impaled upon his pistoning cock, savoring every stroke, every second of her ravishment.  The liquid heat deep in her belly suddenly started building, intensifying, spreading throughout her sexy body.   Brenda began panting, sweating.  She felt her pussy, so happy now, began too quiver with supreme pleasure.

          "Oh God, how are you doing that?" the biker cried, wide-eyed.  "This is incredible!"

          The feelings deep within became too much for the usually chaste beauty.  She began to buck and gasp, clutching desperately at her lover of the moment.  That mad rush to climax began, she laughed with delight, then gasped.  It was going to be a big one.

          "Great….Oh…Aaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Brenda cried, back arched.

          Suddenly, the biker pulled out and surprised Brenda.  He picked her up, flipped her over and dropped her back atop the gas tank face down.  Sprawled like that on the motorcycle, the sexy billionaire babe panted and tried to regain control of her raging body and emotions.  Then she felt his rough hands on her silky soft, shapely rump.

          "What?" she gasped, knowing something was wrong.  Then the sticky wet cock head pressed up against her sphincter.  "No, not……Uuuuggghhhhhh!"

          "Butt fucking Brenda Wade, a real good thing," the biker laughed.

          She grabbed the handlebars, head thrown back and screamed.  Her feet came off the ground, knees bent, and kicked at the air.  And he kept pounding her tight, spasming ass.  Then, after a moment or two, the pain slowly turned to pleasure, and her cries of pain turned to groans of pleasure.

          "Oh Goddess, I'm such a wanton whore," Brenda groaned.  "Oh, baby, fuck me.  Goddess forgive me, but I love it so much."

          The biker reached down and around, and started roughly fondling her titanic tits, intensifying her pleasure.  Already aroused, Brenda quickly responded to that most taboo of sex acts, and felt her body began that heady rush to orgasm.

          "Yes!  Yes!  Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!  Oh yes!" Brenda cried happily.  Then she felt him come, filling her poop chute with hot cum.  "Oh my Goddess!  Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

          To her surprise, while her super shapely body was still trembling and quaking from that intense climax, the biker pulled out of her ass, and shoved her off his motorcycle.  Brenda landed on her naked butt on the cold concrete and looked up at the outlaw biker with wide blue eyes.  He laughed, kick started the Harley, and left.

          The biker vanquished in the thunder of his bike down the alley, leaving Brenda sitting on the pavement of the ally in nothing but garter belt, hose and pumps.  As the sound of his Harley faded away, Brenda heard voices down the alley.  She recognized one and it froze her heart.  King Pimp!  If he caught her, Brenda Wade, while she was hopped up on Bliss, she would be working in his brothel before the hour was out.

          Then three dark figures began coming down the alley.  Brenda panicked, mostly due to how her libido was firing up in anticipation of King Pimp finding her.  Surely he would fuck the crap out of her first, before forcing her to turn tricks.  Rumor was that EVERY woman that fucked King Pimp WANTED to be his whore.  He was the ultimate bitch tamer and pimp.

          That thought brought her hand down to her pussy, and she began to rub.  Her fertile mind was filled with visions of his big black cock inside her, pounding her into sexual submission, conquering her wild heart, enslaving her passion and desire.  Those dark thoughts of submitting to utter domination and subjugation sent her emotions into a tailspin of need and desire.

          <What?  What am I doing?> she thought dizzily.   <Great Liberty, have I gone mad?  I can't let him have me.  I'm Brenda Wade!  I'm Ms Americana!"

          Her top and skirt were tossed aside, somewhere in that dimly lit alley.  She looked around with wild eyes, then spotted a door slightly ajar.  Forgetting about her clothes, Brenda quickly crawled to the door and slipped inside.  She eased the door closed behind her and leaned back against it, huffing and puffing.  Heart racing, she tried to listen as the notorious pimp approached and passed by, but she couldn't hear anything over her thundering heart.  So she got up and headed down that dark hallway.

          The hallway opened out in a large open room full of scantily clad women.  It took her a little while before she realized where she was -- Babe Bazaar.  Almost the whole first floor of that old hotel was now a place where hookers stood around and johns came up to them, away from the prying eyes of the police and out of the weather.

          "Hey, who are you?" Gus said.  He was Babe Bazaar's manager.  A former pimp, now too old and fat to keep any working girls, the ancient African-American worked as manager of one of King Pimp's sex businesses, Babe Bazaar.  Gus was about six foot even, but with skinny arms and skinnier legs.  But he had a big belly.  Very fat belly.  His hair was steel grey and slicked straight back.  His voice was deep and gravelly, like an old blues singer.  "Hey, I know you.  You're that rich bitch, Brenda Wade.  What are you doing here?"

          "I-I-I need your help," she said, wide eyed.  She'd been bargaining on no one recognizing her.  The raven-maned beauty's mind tried to come up with a reason she would be in a brothel, in Sugar Town, and naked.  "I just need to call Wade Manor, to have someone come pick me up.  My-my date…yes!  My date seduced me and tossed me out of his car a few minutes ago in the alley behind your business.  Will you help me?"

          "Brenda Wade putting out in car in a back alley in Sugar Town?" he said, incredulous.

          Without thought, she said, "I am drugged with Bliss."

          "Bliss?" he said, suddenly interested.  "You're on Bliss now?"

          "Yes, will you help me?"

          "Wow, I never dreamed I'd have a Blissed out Brenda Wade in my…," he started to say, then stopped himself.  Then he smiled reassuringly, but a smile that didn't quite make it to his hard brown eyes.  "Of course I'll help you, Ms Wade.  Come this way, and we'll get you away from public scrutiny.  A woman of your stature needs her privacy."

          "Oh, thank you!" Brenda said, relieved.  She followed him past the hotel's old check-in desk/counter.  There was a tall chair there that Gus sat upon and watched over his domain from.  "You don’t know how grateful I'll be for this kindness."  She looked around as they moved down a short, well appointed hallway.  "Where is the phone?"

          "Oh, this way," Gus said, stopping to wave her into a door.  "Don't worry about the phone.  I'm going to take good care of you, Ms Wade."

          Brenda hurried through the door, and immediately pulled up short.  "Huh?"

          First, it was a bedroom, with a queen sized bed.  The walls were painted red, with black lacquer furnishings.  The sheets on the bed were black satin, under a partially turned down black fur bedspread.  Gus reached over and flipped a switch and soft jazz started from hidden speakers around the room.

          "Oh no," she said, knowing what that meant.  Her body instantly changed, the erotic tingling deep in her lower belly and pussy fired up and her chest tightened.  A second later Gus pushed up close behind the super sexy billionaire babe, and reached around to enfold her in both arms.  His right hand began to caress her right tit while the left hand dropped to her crotch, and began stroking her slippery pussy lips.  "Uuuunnnnngghhh, so wrong."

          "Blissfully wrong, don't you think?" Gus said, with a touch of humor in his tone.

          "I hate this," Brenda groaned, knees going weak as her head rolled back onto Gus's shoulder.  He chuckled as he began to kiss, lick and nibble on her slender neck.  A violent tremble coursed through her statuesque body, letting them both know her body was loving what he was doing.  Brenda knew there was no stopping it.  "Bastard."

          With that last act of defiant out of the way, Brenda surrendered to the inevitable and submitted to all of Gus's wishes.  It was startling how deft, how erotic his every touch could be.  Within minutes she understood the ancient, over the hill pimp was not completely over the hill.  Gus understood a woman's body, and how to manipulate it just right.

          Brenda stood there within his arms, writhing, groaning, just savoring the feel of a man's hands doing wonderful things to her.  Strangely, the knowledge that she was submitting to the will of one of the vilest creatures imaginable, a pimp, was exciting and arousing.  He took her from butterflies to raging inferno in less than a minute.

          "You're a very bad man, Gus," Brenda groaned.

          Before she knew it, Brenda was atop that bed on all fours with Gus pushing deep into her pussy, doggie style.  He was hung like a horse, and knew how to use it.  Gus fucked the very delicious Brenda Wade in every which way he could, in positions she never heard of.  He took her in every orifice of her shapely body, including titty fucking.  Brenda enjoyed every second, and even loved the feel of cum splashing across her face, neck and breasts when he came while titty fucking her.

          "Well, you've had your fun," Brenda said, panting as she lay sprawled across Gus's bed three hours later.  Beside the garter belt, hose and heels, her amazing body was now covered in a shimmering sheen of sweat and cum.  Gus might be seventy-two years old, but he had the cock talent and sexual stamina of a twenty year old pimp.  "May I please call Wade Manor now?"

          Gus leaned over the bed, over Brenda, and gave her a deep, lingering kiss.  That kiss stole her breath away, though she could tell the Bliss was completely faded away.  The ardor she felt for Gus had everything to do with the thorough fucking he just gave her, and little to do with the drug that enabled him to get her in bed in the first place.

          "No," Gus said, and snapped a capsule under her nose.

          "Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!  Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeee!" Brenda cried, consumed by a monster climax as the new dose of Bliss flooded her mind and senses.  "Oh my Goddess, what have you done?  Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeee!"

          "I've decided to keep you," Gus said.  "As my personal whore."

          "Whore?"

          "I'm going to pimp you out, babe."

          "No!" she cried.  He reached down, and stroked her cunt with talented fingers, that knew well how to tame and control a woman.  The climax was instant, this close to the actual dose of Bliss.  "Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!  Oh, yes!  Yes!  Do it again, Gus.  Please do it again.  Fuck me, Gus.  Fuck me one more time, baby.  Fuck me one more time."

          "I have a better idea," he said, and left.  Brenda lay on the bed, spread eagle, and grasping at the black satin sheets with both hands to try and stop her world from spinning.  Moments later, Gus returned.  He was not alone.  "I have a friend that would like to meet you, Brenda.  Bob, meet the legendary and oh so horny Brenda Wade."

          "Bob?" she said.

          "Yes," Bob said, looking down at her from beside the bed.  He looked her shapely body over from head to toe, and back again.  Three times, smacking his lips the whole time as his eyes remained wide with awe.  "So she's really all Blissed out?  She won't object?"

          "Oh, yeah, Brenda Wade is my personal Bliss Whore," Gus said.  "Gave herself to me as long as I supply her with Bliss and men to fuck her."

          "Cool," Bob said, and started to undress.

          Brenda wanted to call Gus a liar, to let Bob know she was a prisoner, a miserable sex slave.  Maybe he would help her escape?  Maybe he would fuck her anyway, but the only way to find out was by telling him the truth.  Then Bob dropped his pants and underwear, and an eight inch cock pointed straight at her, fully erect in his ultimate arousal.  Suddenly, all she could think about was that cock, and getting it inside her body.

          "Oh, baby," Brenda said, rolling up to her knees on the bed.  She reached out and gently took the cock in hand.  Seconds later she kissed the head, then began to lick it with relish, moaning and groaning wantonly.  Then she swallowed it completely, deep throating the lucky bastard.  "Mmmmmmmmgh."

          Seconds later, Bob creamed her mouth.  Brenda moaned as she swallowed, licked and laughed with joy.  She knew Bob had to leave, because he just came, but she saw two more men waiting so she wouldn't be alone with his departure.  The next man didn't bother with his name, just ordered her to suck him a long minute, then pushed her back on the bed and mounted her missionary.

          "Oh, ride me, Cowboy!" she cried out as his dick penetrated her cunt and drove all the way into her.  Her back arched, she threw her arms wide, and she wrapped mile long legs around his waist.  "Oh!  Oh, yes!  Faster.  Faster!"  Seconds later, her Blissed up body exploded.  "Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

          Brenda never knew how long she was on that bed that day, or how many men eventually nailed her to the mattress.  All she remembered was at least fifteen of the men worked for Wade Enterprises.  And she answered all of their sexual yearnings, fulfilled all of their perverse and/or kinky fantasies and daydreams about her.  At one hundred dollars a pop.  A real bargain.

          Her off hours were spent sleeping with Gus.  For the next two weeks Gus fucked her first thing upon waking, at lunch, and at bedtime, which just happened to be the times when he dosed her with Bliss three times a day.  The rest of the time she spent in that bed all Blissed out, servicing one man after another.  The majority of her johns after three days became Wade Enterprise employees.  Apparently, word got around among the perverts that worked for her company, but not to the police or anyone who might want to rescue her.  Not that she ever thought of rescue.  Gus kept her doped up on Bliss constantly.  All she thought about was sex.

          "You're the man, Tiger!  Oh yes, you are the MAN," Brenda cried, back arched and a ten inch cock pistoning in and out of her ass.  She was on all fours, on the floor, being fucked by a large Asian man.  She didn't know his name.  Didn't want to know it.  She called everyone "Tiger" now.  It was easier.  God forbid she have to THINK.  "Oh, my big Tiger, fuck me!  Harder! YES!  Uuuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhh!"

          Then "Tiger" exploded deep in her ass.  After three spurts, he pulled out and creamed her shapely white ass, too.  She loved the feeling of cooling cum on her hot, sweaty skin.  But her perfect moment was interrupted by a commotion out in the hallway.

          "Holy Harlots, Brenda!  What are they doing to you?" a very familiar voice cried from the door.

          Her john was still stroking his cock behind her, still getting little spurts.  She looked at the door and noticed an old friend.  The beautiful teen wore her long, silky blonde hair in bouncy pigtails.  She had big blue eyes and full red, very kissable lips.  Her impressive 36C chest was sheathed in a blue, star-spangled top with a round cutout over her deep cleavage.  Blue gloves.  Blue mask.  Blue choker.  And a red and white vertical stripped mini-skirt over long legs stuffed into red stiletto boots.  A super heroine.  Her ward and protégé.

          "Flag Girl?" Brenda said, confused, but knowing enough not to call her Lydia --just barely.  That was the last person she expected to see.  The thought came to her that she was being rescued.  Then it occurred to her that would end all of the wonderful sex.  Part of her was sad to be rescued, but another part knew it would be better for her in the long run.  She just couldn't remember why.  "You're pretty."

          "Oh my Goddess!  What's the matter with you?" Flag Girl cried, rushing to her side.  "We've all been looking all over for you."

          "All?"

          "Me, Champion Girl, Got Gal and Got Chic, Green Spectre and Spectre Girl," Flag Girl said.  "You know, all of your super heroine friends."

          "You want to kiss me?" Brenda said, eyes locked on her shimmering red lips.

          "What is wrong with you?" Flag Girl said, all worried.

          "She's on this," Gus said, and snapped a capsule beneath Flag Girl's nose.  "Bliss."

          "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!" Flag Girl cried, falling to her knees beside the bed.  "Holy…..aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

          "Aaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!" Brenda cried, getting a whiff of the Bliss, too.

          Brenda watched as Gus handcuffed Flag Girl, pulled off just enough of her costume to fuck her, and started to do just that on the floor, Flag Girl bent over on her knees and loving it.  Another john moved up behind Brenda and speared her pussy, so she forgot all about Flag Girl and Gus.  Soon, both Brenda and Flag Girl were working as Gus's Bliss whores in that room.

          Brenda didn't know, or really care, that Flag Girl was sold the next day.  The beautiful billionaire babe's "blissful" life continued on as normal.  Normal for a Bliss whore, that is.  Time meant nothing to her.  So the next eight weeks passed like nothing.

          "Oh, my head," Brenda groaned, then felt an even more urgent need.  Rolling out of the bed she shared with Gus, she staggered to the attached bathroom.  The stench of old cum rose up along with that of urine as she peed.  She was used to it.  "I stink to High Heaven.  Oh."

          Brenda suddenly realized that she was coherent.  No Bliss befuddled her mind for the first time in weeks, as best she could figure.  She had no idea how long she'd been there, working as Gus's Bliss whore.  But it was going to end right then and there.

          Standing up, she felt weak and exhausted.  She was in no condition to fight anyone, not even a seventy-two year old pervert.  So Brenda eased out of the room and rummaged around until she found a red vinyl skirt, black halter top and her own black pumps.  She left the hose and garter belt behind as she strode out into the empty streets of Sugar Town at five o'clock in the morning.  Going to a 7-Eleven, she convinced the night clerk to let her use the phone, and soon a limo was picking her up and taking her home.

          Brenda went home and slept until eight that night.  When she woke up it wasn't to the joy of being free of drugs and sexual servitude, it was to the realization that Flag Girl was captured, and missing.  Thus Lydia was missing.  She barely recalled Flag Girl's failed rescue.  Bliss so befuddled the mind.  But Gus would know where she was now, if he didn't still have her working at Babe Bazaar.

          Brenda showered one more time, then slipped naked into her secret super heroine room.

          "It'll feel good to be Ms Americana again, after so long," Brenda said, grinning wolfishly.  "Gus will probably pee all over himself when I show up tonight."

          The thought amused her immensely.

          Brenda slipped on her red stiletto calf boots first, with the familiar white stripe up the front and around the top, and the gold star on the outer side of both boots.  Then she pulled on the satin red, white and blue thong costume bottoms, one side red and white stripes, and the other blue with white stars.  Next came the matching top -- strapless, with the same patriotic theme as her costume's bottoms.  Now for all purposes dressed, she started with the accessories, the super heroine paraphernalia.  First she put on red star earrings and then the blue choker, with its gold star on a red disk medallion.  After that, she pressed the blue, star-spangled mask to her face, and pulled on red gauntlet gloves.  After "crowning" herself with the golden tiara, with the red star, she fastened the matching power belt around her narrow waist, adjusting it to rest comfortably atop her well rounded hips.

          "Great Liberty," she groaned, more in frustration that misery.  When she put on the power belt the familiar and heady feeling of super strength did not infuse her shapely body.  "I'm de-powered from all that sex Gus forced me to engage in."  She still tried not to think of it as prostitution.  "I have so many people to punish."

          First off, Gus.  He took complete advantage of her vulnerability after Erica dosed her with Bliss.  Not only did he force her into prostitution, but he kept her on Bliss for over ten weeks, whoring her the whole time.  Whoring her AS Brenda Wade.  Her reputation was ruined.  Then to add insult to injury, he captured Flag Girl and probably was still whoring her off as a Bliss whore.  So her first priority was to find Gus, rescue Flag Girl, and send Gus up the river.

          Secondly, punish Erica Sambino for dosing her with Bliss in the first place and setting her ultimate shame and humiliation in motion.  She couldn't prove Erica dosed her with Bliss, so she'd have to target the mob boss's criminal activities, and shut them down permanently.  That was the best way to punish Erica, unless she could get the drop on her and send her to prison for racketeering or something.

          Thirdly, she had to punish all of her employees that "hired" her without telling the authorities.  Those depraved men WANTED her helpless and sexually available to them.  She couldn’t send them to jail, but she could FIRE them.  And she would, too.

          "I can't go after Erica in my condition, but I can take Gus down," Ms Americana said, smiling smugly.  She was so going to enjoy seeing the look on his face when she walked into Babe Bazaar.  "That old man is no match for me, even without my power belt's help."

          Less than one hour later, Ms Americana strode into Babe Bazaar through the front door.  There was a long, heavy moment of dead silence, then the whores and johns started scattering and finding side doors to leave through.  The Queen of Justice smiled knowingly as she strode up to the main counter, and Gus.  That old pimp just gawked at her, trembling.  He knew he was too old to escape her, so didn't try.

          "Brenda sent you, didn't she?" Gus said miserably.

          "And yet you didn't run away," Ms Americana said.

          "I'm a fool.  I thought she'd be too ashamed to tell anyone what happened to her," he said.  He shrugged with a pathetic smile.  "I just sent a package to her, of still pictures and video of her turning tricks in my bed.  I thought I could blackmail her into at least working part time here."

          "What?  For your information, miscreant, Brenda Wade is a SUPERIOR woman," Ms Americana cried, shocked and horrified.  "She is not on this world to provide sleazy entertainment for depraved men like you.  What a raging pervert you have to be to even think she would submit to you again.  A pervert with a one-track mind."

          "Well, I am a pimp by profession," he said, grinning weakly.

          "I can see that," she said, glowering at him, fists clinching and unclinching at her sides.  "Where is Flag Girl?"

          "Flag Girl?"

          "Don't play innocent with me.  Brenda told me Flag Girl tried to rescue her, but you dosed her with Bliss, then took Flag Girl away," Ms Americana said, not liking the growing look of fear on Gus's face.  "So, once again, where is Flag Girl?"

          Gus swallowed hard, looked for an escape briefly, then finally appeared to give up and slumped in his high chair.  "I sold her."

          "Ugh," Ms Americana grunted, those words like a punch in the gut.  She'd been hoping against hope he'd kept Flag Girl to make money off her just as he did off Brenda.  "Why?  She was probably worth more as a hooker than Brenda, being a super heroine and all."

          "I am old, and I can only control one woman like that, and I liked Brenda Wade better," he said, shrugging.  "After unmasking her, I didn't recognize her, so didn't think I would have the leverage I needed to properly control a super heroine.  Besides, she's worth a fortune on the white slave market, too.  I got a million five for her from a Columbian drug cartel."

          "You sorry bastard, I ought to strangle you right here and now," Ms Americana growled.  Her sexy sidekick was gone.  There was no way she could find, much less rescue Flag Girl from a drug cartel.  Flag Girl, and Lydia, was lost to her forever.  There was only revenge.  "But that would make me a murderer.  So I'll have to be content with knowing you'll spend the rest of your life in prison."

          Ms Americana called 911, and ensured Gus was carted off to jail to face justice for his terrible crimes.  She assured the police that Brenda Wade would press charges, and listened as Gus obediently confessed to all his crimes.  Once he was taken away in handcuffs, she narrowed her baby blues and considered her next move.

          "Next, Erica Sambino," she muttered.

          For the next three months Ms Americana waged a very personal, one-woman war against Erica and the Sambino Family.  She beat up the Family's enforcers and thugs at every opportunity, even went after their drug dealers and pimps, shutting down Sambino whore houses, strip clubs and other less than legitimate businesses.

          She even followed Erica's limo some nights, tracking her in the hopes she would finally make a mistake.  Finally, one night, as Erica was cruising a small red light district across town from Sugar Town, checking on her drug dealers and pimps, Ms Americana made her move.

          Running the limo off the road, Ms Americana jumped out and rushed the car.  She pulled the chauffer out through the window and threw him into a brick wall.  As he crumbled unconscious, she heard the gun shot from Erica's bodyguard.  Her power belt deflected that bullet, even though it was a .44 Mag.  A roundhouse to the head, followed by a combination to the belly put the over-muscled bodyguard down for the count.  Then she yanked Erica out of the limo.

          "Hello, Erica, having a nice evening?" Ms Americana sneered.

          "Y-you have no right to a-assault me like this," Erica stammered.  She was afraid, very afraid.  It was unlike a super heroine to make such a mistake, so the beautiful mob boss knew it couldn't be good for her.  "My boys and I will all press charges."

          Erica was dressed in a brief leather micro mini, with dark fishnet hose and black stiletto knee boots.  Her extraordinary rack was held enticingly in a black leather, silver studded halter.  She wore a great deal of glittering diamonds, as usual.

          "Out slumming?" Ms Americana said, looking her spectacular body over disapprovingly.

          "Dancing, if you must know," Erica said, trying valiantly to pull herself together.  Ms Americana backhanded her.  "Ugh!"

          "You dosed Brenda Wade with Bliss, oh five or six months ago," Ms Americana said, really more of a growl.  "All of the super heroines went out looking for her.  Flag Girl found her being kept as a Bliss whore at Babe Bazaar."

          "I heard.  I laughed for a week," Erica said, her knees weak from the brutal backhand.  Ms Americana backhanded her again.  "Uughh!"

          Erica collapsed bonelessly at Ms Americana's red booted feet.  The sexy super heroine took the opportunity to search Erica's limo.  She found what she wanted in Erica's purse.  A baggie of Bliss capsules.  Taking the baggie, she seized Erica by her silky brown locks and dragged her to her booted feet.  Then Ms Americana dragged the whimpering mob boss of bosses into a trash strewn alley in that raunchy red light district.

          "Hello, boys," Ms Americana said, grinning at the sixteen homeless men gathered around a fire in an old barrel.  "When is the last time you boys fucked a really hot, beautiful woman?"

          "What?" Erica cried.

          Ms Americana snapped a Bliss capsule under Erica's nose.

          "Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!  Aaaaaaiiiiieeee!  God…save….aaaaiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!" Erica cried wantonly.  Then she groaned low and wantonly as she looked hungrily at the stunned men.

          "Come check her out," Ms Americana said, waving them over as she dropped Erica to fall to hands and knees.  "She's a Bliss whore.  She'll do anyone, any way, anywhere and any time.  And you boys are just what the lady needs and deservers."

          As the hesitant men gathered around Erica, timid and close to bolting for cover, Ms Americana started snapping capsules and dosing as many as she could, all the while holding her own breath.  Then when she couldn't stand to hold her breath any more, she hurried away.

          "Have fun, boys," Ms Americana called.  "I'll talk to you later, Erica."

          Ms Americana found a high place to monitor Erica.  She watched as the homeless men fucked that gorgeous woman for hours.  They, of course, stripped her of diamonds and clothes right off.  One of the men not dosed with Bliss made off with the diamonds.  To the Queen of Justice's amusement, and divine justice, Erica recovered from the Bliss hours before the homeless men allowed her to leave.  Ms Americana was pretty sure Erica was enjoying herself as much, if not more, than the homeless men.

          "Harlot," Ms Americana sneered, and went home as Erica made good her escape wearing nothing but a single toe ring no one seemed interested in stealing.

          Two days later, in Sugar Town, Ms Americana leapt off a two story building onto the hood of Erica's limo as it pulled up to the back door of a sleazy dance club she owned.  Instead of one bodyguard, the mob boss had four and the chauffer.  This time, instead of kicking them stupid, the sexy vigilante tossed them around and one by one, dosed them with Bliss.   Then, she gave Erica two capsules.

          "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Erica cried, climaxing like she'd never orgasmed before.

          Ms Americana watched as Erica's trusted bodyguards and chauffer fucked her stupid on the hood of the limo, for hours and hours.  Then as they were recovering from the Bliss, she returned, dosed Erica again.  She once again took Erica away, and gave her to homeless men.  Sugar Town homeless men didn't need Bliss to jump on a beautiful woman.  Ms Americana watched that show for the rest of the night, then smiled when the homeless men SOLD her to the pimp of a rival mob boss.  Watching Erica Sambino turning tricks, utterly miserable, was the sweetest sight Ms Americana could imagine at that time.

          Vengeance was sweet.

          Three days later, Ms Americana was waiting for Erica when she entered her bedroom to go to bed.  Erica was already dressed for bed, for her anyway, in a bright red silk robe that barely cover her shapely rump, and matching red stiletto pumps.  Ms Americana suspected she didn't have on anything beneath it.  The Queen of Justice smiled smugly seeing her fear and dread.

          "Had enough, Erica?"

          "Yes," Erica said quickly.  "Truce, okay?"

          "Truce, but only long enough for you to perform a task," Ms Americana said.  "If you fail in this task, then you will truly know my wrath."

          "Task?" Erica said warily.

          "Because of you dosing Brenda Wade with Bliss, my sexy sidekick was captured and sold to a Columbian drug cartel," Ms Americana said, and ground her teeth at the thought.  Then taking a deep breath, she continued.  "You have to get her back for me, whether that means buying her, trading for her, or giving the head of the cartel a big wet kiss on the dick, I don't care.  You have one week, then I will come after you again.  And I won't be as nice as I've been recently."  Ms Americana put a piece of paper on the corner of Erica's vanity.  "That is the number of the pager I'll be carrying.  When you have Flag Girl, call it and leave a number I can reach you at.  I'll call and we'll arrange for her return to me."

          "If I do this, then you will leave me alone?" Erica said.  "I mean completely alone, as in never come after any Sambino Family operations again."

          "I can't promise that."

          "Then do your worse, because I WON'T save your precious Flag Twat."

          Snarling, Ms Americana reached for Erica.  The beautiful gangster blocked her red gloved hand aside, then reached out and ripped off her strapless top.  Ms Americana backhanded her, sending Erica spinning across the room to fall on her bed, Ms Americana's patriotic themed costume top still clutched in her hand.  Erica wasn't moving.

          "Bitch," Ms Americana snarled, stalking toward the beautiful mobster.  Reaching for her stolen top, "Give it too me."

          "Okay," Erica said, big brown eyes popping open and a sly smile spreading across her beautiful face.  Then she jabbed the sharp stiletto heel of her red pumps straight into Ms Americana's pussy.  Her aim was perfect, striking the sensitive clit.  "Take that."

          "Ugh," Ms Americana cried, doubling up and clutching at her abused clitoris.  A second later she dropped to her knees as waves of intense pain washed through her stunningly shapely body.  Then Erica reached down with both hands, grabbed both nipples, and TWISTED with all she had.  "Yyyyyeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooowwww!"

          "Lights out," Erica said, and head butted the Queen of Justice.  As Ms Americana collapsed bonelessly at her feet, Erica rubbed the knot forming on her head.  "Ouchie."

          Realizing the super sexy super heroine was already starting to recover, moaning and groaning, Erica pulled the long tie-belt off her robe and quickly bound the vivacious vigilante's wrists behind her back.  Then she dragged Ms Americana up atop the bed and turned to her nightstand.

          "Oh, what?  Where am I?" Ms Americana groaned, then, "Great Liberty, I've been captured!"

          "Ah…duh," Erica sneered.  "You super heroines sure like to state the obvious."

          "Erica?!" the Queen of Justice gasped, tugging in vain at the silken bindings securing her wrists.  Then she saw the large, ten inch black dildo in Erica's perfectly manicured hand.  "Great Liberty, it's HUGE!  What are you going to do with that?"

          "Oh yeah, super heroine types like to ask stupid questions too," Erica sneered.  Then she smiled cruelly as she reached down and yanked Ms Americana's costume bottoms aside.  A sadistic, horny cast spread across her lovely face.  "I heard that your power belt cannot be removed against your will, unless you are climaxed into submission and tamed.  Any wild guesses on what I'm about to do?"

          Erica pushed the thick, shiny black dildo in deep, a good six inches.  Ms Americana groaned and arched her back, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back.

          "Huuuggghhhh," Ms Americana groaned.

          "Of course, I could just dose you with Bliss and you'd have a monster climax right off, and I could probably remove the belt.  But what fun would that be?" Erica said, pulling the dildo almost back out, then shoving it in deeper.  She paused to relish the moment, absolutely adoring the way that stuck up prude of a vigilante cock tease was so profoundly affected by sexual use and abuse.  Despite all her yammering about being a superior woman, and being above sex, Ms Americana was clearly oversexed and major horny.  "Of course, if you submitted sweetly, and let me remove your power belt, I might show some mercy."

          "Fuck you," Ms Americana snapped, slightly ashamed of her language, but she was that angry with herself and with Erica.

          "My thoughts exactly," Erica said, and started ramming the dildo in and out, in and out, as fast as she could do it.  Her helpless victim gasped and grunted, cried out and panted.  Her body arched back almost painfully, and Erica's experienced eyes watched the telltale signs of growing arousal, and impending climax.  And stopped just before she climaxed.  "After de-powering you, and removing your precious belt, then I'm going to dildo-lesbian fuck you stupid, completely break your will and tame you.  I'm going to make you my BITCH, then unmask you.  Then I will own you, body and soul."

          "You won't get away with this outrage," Ms Americana groaned.  "I am the Queen of Justice, and my super heroine friends will avenge me."

          "Ha-ha!  You aren't even yammering about defeating me yourself, because you KNOW I have defeated you, I have won," Erica crowed.  Then she positioned herself over Ms Americana's face, her shaven pussy, dripping with her needs and desires, a bare inch from the sexy super heroine's full red lips.  Then she began pumping that monster dildo in and out of Ms Americana's super sensitive vagina.  A moment later, she lowered herself down another inch, and her gorgeous prisoner began to lick and suck on her pussy.  With amazing gusto and talent.  "Whore."

          Ms Americana ignored her contemptuous words.  Let her think what she wanted.  But the vigilante vixen had a plan.  A desperate plan, with little hope of success, but it was all she had.  She attacked Erica's clit with gusto and enthusiasm.

          <If I can climax Erica, before she climaxes and tames me, then I still have a chance to escape,> Ms Americana thought, actually really enjoying the tastes, smell and fleshy textures of Erica's snatch.

          Ms Americana despaired at how fast her body was changing, going from tingling to liquid heat.  Ever since being Blissed out and forced to whore herself for months, her body hadn't responded as she would've liked.

          Running her hot, wet tongue up and down Erica's hot, fragrant slit, she nibbled on her nether lips and clit, making the mob boss yip and grunt and writhe delightfully.  Soon Erica was panting just as loudly as Ms Americana, as they both squirmed and writhed sexily.

          "You are so close," Erica said after a few minutes of incredible dildo stimulation.  "Just submit and release it.  Enjoy it.  It'll be great."

          <I know,> Ms Americana thought.  <Dammit.>

          She redoubled her efforts to make Erica climax.  The sexy mobster grunted and groaned.  She was also at the brink.  Then just when Ms Americana felt her resolve and will slipping away completely, Erica suddenly stiffened, and shuddered violently.  Girl cum suddenly gushed into Ms Americana's mouth and all over her beautiful masked face.

          "Ooooh, Yeeeeeeesssssssssssssss!" Erica cried.  But instead of stopping to savor her climax, the evil beauty started pumping the ten inch black dildo faster, deeper.  "My….victory….is …..com…PLETE!"

          "Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Ms Americana cried.  Erica kept on pumping, maybe even faster.  "Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!  Great Liberty, I beg you…stttttooopppppppp!  Aaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

          Erica continued on for another ten minutes, until she was too exhausted to continue.  In all, she ripped nineteen climaxes from the sexy super heroine.  She really wanted that twentieth, but was just too tired.

          Climbing off the stunned and exhausted super heroine, Erica looked her spectacular body over with relish.  She'd planned her revenge with minute detail.  She would make Ms Americana a Bliss whore for a couple months, then put her to work as a porn star.  She wanted the whole world to see the legendary, the High and Mighty Queen of Justice brought low and debauched in the most bizarre, kinkiest ways imaginable.  She wanted Ms Americana on every porn site in the world.  She wanted the name Ms Americana to become synonymous with porn star and depraved sex acts.

          "My vengeance is almost complete," Erica said smugly, covered in just as much sweat as Ms Americana and breathing just as heavily.  "Now for that pesky power belt."

          Ms Americana felt Erica reach up under the small of her back, unfasten the power belt without effort, and then pulled the all important, golden belt away from her shapely body.  All the sexy super heroine could do was moan miserably.

          <So close,> Ms Americana thought in despair.  <Now I am de-powered and tamed.  Helpless and in my greatest enemy's unmerciful hands.>

          "Stand up," Erica commanded.

          Ms Americana didn't move.

          "You will obey my every command, or I will find one hundred men with ten inch or better cocks, give you and them all Bliss, and let them have you," Erica said.

          Ms Americana froze, the vision of that nightmarish scene flashing through her vividly imaginative mind.  Then she moaned in misery, and slid off the bed.  She stood before Erica upon wobbly feet.  After nineteen major climaxes her legs were like rubber bands.

          "Now what?" Ms Americana said, holding her head high and trying to maintain as much dignity as possible.  "You have defeated me.  Though I am stronger, you have proven yourself more clever, more DEVIOUS.  Now what is to become of me?"

          "Wow, a super heroine admitting someone is better at something than she is.  Another miracle," Erica said.

          Erica removed Ms Americana's bottoms, then took the opportunity to masturbate her new sex slave to three more climaxes with just a single finger.  It took all of five minutes.  She wanted to continue, but the vanquished vigilante vixen couldn't handle it any more and dropped to her knees.  From there, she made Ms Americana eat her out through two more orgasms of her own.

          As the Queen of Justice licked and nibbled Erica towards a third climax, Erica reached down and seized the edge of her blue, star-spangled mask.  Ms Americana's heart hammered, thundering in her ears.  Unmasking would be the final nail in Ms Americana's coffin.  Erica knew Brenda too well not to recognize her.  When the mask came off, Erica Sambino would OWN Ms Americana AND Brenda Wade.  She would shortly afterwards take over the Wade billions.  Everything that was Brenda's would become Erica's.  With her criminal empire, empowered by Brenda's financial, high-tech empire, Erica would be the most powerful woman in the world.

          "Thank the Goddess," Ms Americana said in a defeated sign.

          "What?" Erica said, hesitating and suspicious.

          "I was so afraid you would force me to unmask myself and hand you my mask," Ms Americana said, and shuddered violently.  "That would've been too humiliating, too emotionally devastating.  It would've destroyed me in some deep, primal way I don't even want to think about."

          "Really?" Erica said, her dark eyes lighting up.  "But that's perfect!  I want that."

          "What?  No, please.  Have mercy on a miserable wretch," Ms Americana cried, groveling at Erica's feet.  She covered her mistress's naked thighs with kisses.  "Please, just unmask me and get it over with."

          "No, I give the commands here," Erica growled.  "You deny me nothing.  Understand?"

          "Yes," she whispered, dropping her eyes submissively.

          "Stand up, Ameri-slave," Erica commanded.  Ms Americana struggled to feet, apparently so weak she could barely stand up.  "Turn around."

          Ms Americana turned around, and Erica quickly untied her wrists.  The Queen of Justice licked dry lips as she rubbed her wrists.  Turning around, she faced Erica who was glaring daggers at her.  Erica thrust out her hand.

          "Remove your mask, and give it to me," Erica said imperiously.

          The super shapely super heroine reached up with both hands and seized both sides of her mask as she stepped forward.  She started to pull off the mask, saw how Erica's eyes locked on it, and she HEADBUTTED the sexy mobster.

          "Ugh!" Erica cried, collapsing.

          "There.  Turnabout is fair play," Ms Americana said, baby blues flashing.

          Ms Americana used Erica's silken robe tie and bound the mobster's wrists behind her back.  Then she rolled her onto her belly, and used the rest of the tie to bind her wrists to her ankles.  Erica lay on her belly at Ms Americana's feet, hogtied.

          The Queen of Justice collected her costume, and quickly redressed.  Unfortunately, the power belt was of no use to her at the moment.  It would take time to build up enough pent up sexual frustrations and tensions to power the belt properly.  But she had time.  More time than Lydia.

          "Now, back to your task," Ms Americana said.  "Before we were so rudely interrupted."  She smiled cruelly at Erica, who was looking utterly miserable.  "You have one week.  You know what you have to do.  That is more than enough time to get Flag Girl back, and if you fail, I have no reason to believe it was because you didn't want to free her and return her to me.  And I will come after you and yours with a bloody vengeance."  She smiled sweetly.  "Any questions?"

          "No," Erica whispered.  "I can get your precious sidekick back."

          "Good."

          "But," Erica said.  "I have no motivation to do so, IF you don't promise to leave me and the Sambino Family alone."

          Ms Americana frowned.  That argument precipitated the fight that nearly cost her everything.  If Erica was still insisting, then she was determined and meant it.  The sexy super heroine realized she had no choice but to strike a deal with the devil in stilettos.

          "I'll give you one month from Flag Girl's return."

          "No, a year."

          "Two months."

          "Eight."

          Ms Americana sighed loudly.  "Cut to the chase.  Six month.  Half a year.  That's plenty of time for you to rearrange your operations and fortify yourself against me," Ms Americana said.  "No more dickering."

          "Six months.  It's a deal," Erica said.  "Now untie me so I can go to bed."

          Ms Americana laughed.  A deep, heart-felt laugh.  I was a beautiful thing, and even Erica was touched by it.

          "Um, no," Ms Americana said.  She reached down, and snapped a Bliss capsule in her face.  Unfortunately for Ms Americana, she caught a whiff too.

          "Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!" Erica cried in pure pleasure.

          "Ummph," Ms Americana grunted, trying valiantly to fight the effects.  Standing, she pretended to not be affected.  "You have one week."

          With that, Ms Americana left.  She did make sure to set off the alarm in Erica's room first.  She smiled knowing that Erica's brutal thugs would soon arrive to save her, only to find a very horny mistress demanding sexual satisfaction.  Erica would be so humiliated and shamed come morning.

          Ms Americana quickly returned to her car, and drove home.  Once there, Brenda called up an especially handsome gate guard.  He really enjoyed his "bonus" that night.

          After her night of debauchery with the security guard at Wade Manor, Brenda paid him off to keep his mouth shut and allowed him to retire.  Of course, he was retiring from a minimum wage job, at twenty-two, with a very nice portfolio.  People talked, but she didn't care.

          Ms Americana laid low for the next week.  Brenda Wade, though, was all over the news.  Mostly doing charity work and being the good Samaritan.  She visited every morning talk show and news program in the city, to beg the city's forgiveness and tell her story of betrayal and woe.  Everyone knew all about her months as a Bliss whore, and she had to spin it just right.  By the end of the week everyone was back in love with her, and wanted to lynch poor Gus.

          It was late Friday night, near nine o'clock, and Brenda was still in the office working diligently.  The next day was day seven, when Erica Sambino had to deliver Flag Girl or pay the consequences.  Brenda was planning out Ms Americana campaign of terror against that celebrated criminal family.  She really thought Erica would have Flag Girl back within a couple days.  If it was going to the wire, then it was likely Erica either couldn't or wouldn't buy the sexy sidekick back, and free her.

          "It is about to get real ugly in Delta City," Brenda said, baby blues narrowed.

          Beep-beep!  Beep-beep!  Beep-beep!

          It was the pager.  That special pager only Erica had the number for.  Pin sized, it had a display.  Erica Sambino's personal cell number was displayed.  Brenda smiled.

          Calling the number from her cell phone, she shifted to her super heroine voice.  "This is Ms Americana.  You have Flag Girl?"

          "Of course," Erica said.  She sounded pleased.  Too pleased.  That couldn't be good.  "And it wasn't easy to pull off, either, Ms Ameri-fool.  But I did it, and I am SO glad you made me do this."

          Ameri-fool?  What made her so smug she thought it safe to insult and taunt her?

          "You should be careful, Erica.  You have six months free of my interference already.  Once you return Flag Girl I may be inclined to leave you alone much longer than that," Brenda said, trying to sound both reasonable and determined at the same time.  The thought that Erica might used Flag Girl as a hostage occurred to her.  Why didn't she think of that before?  "I have to assume, that since you paged me, you have secured Flag Girl's release and now have her."

          "You assume correctly," Erica said.  "Flag Girl is kneeling before me right now.  Wait, did I say Flag Girl?  She isn't in costume.  The cartel kept that as a trophy of fond remembrance of her time with them.  LYDIA WILLS is kneeling before him, bound hand and foot.  She looks a bit worried, too…Brenda."

          Brenda's blood ran cold.  Ice cold.  She couldn't breathe.  She couldn't think.  Erica Sambino, the local Boss of Bosses, knew Brenda Wade was Ms Americana.

          <What was I thinking!> Brenda thought in despair.  <Of course Flag Girl wouldn’t be returned in costume.  And if she was, Erica would unmask her.  It wasn't any great leap to figure out my secret identity once they determined Lydia was Flag Girl.>  She groaned low, eyes squeezed shut and head dropping to her desktop.  <I am a fool!  I gave Erica my secret identity just as sure as I stood before her and unmasked myself.>

          "Hello?  You still there Brenda 'Ms Americana' Wade?" Erica said with way too much cheer.

          "Wh-wha-what do you want?" Brenda eventually stammered out.

          "Oh, silly girl," Erica laughed.  Then her voice dropped an octave, sounding menacing.  "I want you."

          "We-we-we can w-work out a d-deal," Brenda said, trying valiantly to rein in her racing heart and imagination.  She knew Erica well enough to know that her victory would entail the most humiliating indignities imaginable would be perpetrated upon her.  Very public humiliations.  Very public and well witnessed.  "If you let Lydia and I go, I'll give you my company.  Wade Enterprises."

          "You know I already have that," Erica said, and laughed.  "Give me the city's other super heroines on a silver platter, and I'll be most gracious and merciful.  Of course, I'll make sure the world knows that you betrayed them."

          "Of course," Brenda whispered.  "I cannot betray them, even if I knew their secret identities.  You should know we don't share that information, just because capture is always a possibility for us."

          "Worth a try," Erica said, as she looked at a bottle of truth serum in her left hand, then sat it down.  That was for later.  "Now I will dictate my terms."

          "Of course," Brenda said miserably.

          "Come to my house," Erica said.  "Right now.  But, make sure you are dressed as Ms Americana.  Power belt and all.  Make it fast, because Lydia 'Flag Girl' Wills is looking weak and vulnerable, and I have some really evil men eyeing her with violent intentions."

          Click.

          Brenda just sat there for five minutes, phone to her ear.  She was too stunned by her reversal of fortune to think or move.  When she finally closed her flip phone, Brenda's first thought was to run.  But that would be a shameful display of wretchedness, that no super heroine worth her costume could stomach.  She was a super heroine because she COULD and WOULD walk into the teeth of the beast, fearlessly.  And she usually came out of the encounters due to a combination of cunning, bravado, skill and superior strength and endurance.

          "There has to be a way out of this," she said, standing, straightening her clothes meticulously, and then heading for her car.

          Brenda drove home as fast as she dared.  Entering the front door, she headed straight upstairs with firm orders not to disturb her for any reason shy of nuclear attack.  And if there was a nuclear attack, then it didn't matter if they discovered her missing.  So she rushed into her room, stripping out of her clothes as she headed for her vast closet next to the master bath.  She left a line of discarded clothes as she went, and entered her secret chamber naked as the day she was born.

          Brenda quickly donned her legendary patriotic costume.  In less than five minutes the Queen of Justice was roaring out of the secret garage deep beneath Wade Manor.  Once on the road, Ms Americana flicked on the police lights and siren and drove like a bat out of hell.  She tried to stay positive.  There HAD to be a way out.  There always was.  After all, she'd escaped capture by Erica once already, by outwitting her.

          It could happen again.  It just had to happen again.

          Ms Americana really had only one hope that she could count on.  In the trunk of her car was a kit.  It had truth serums and memory suppression drugs.  If Erica hadn't shared her knowledge with anyone else, then there was hope.  The more people that knew the truth, the more dangerous and difficult it would be to contain.

          At high speed, it only took ten minutes to reach Erica's country estate from Wade Manor.  They were on the same side of town, off the same major highway.  The front gates swung open at her approach.  That didn't make her feel any better.  Worse, a dozen thugs milled around in the front drive outside the front door.  They were all well over six feet, and heavily muscled.  When they looked at her, one and all smiled grimly.  There was no fear displayed by anyone.

          "They know I'm here to surrender," Ms Americana whispered, horrified.  Did Erica tell them all the truth?  Even if she could subdue and capture them all, she didn't have nearly enough memory drugs to take care of a quarter of them.  Not even at home, since half of her entire supply was in the car.  "This is not good."

          Knees weak, throat tight and heart heavy, Ms Americana exited her patriotic themed sports car and made for the front door.  None of the men moved out of her way.  If she really had to surrender to Erica, if she couldn't outwit her wiliest of adversaries inside, then these men would have total access to her and her body.  It would be very bad to incite their wrath any further, so Ms Americana carefully stepped around them and made no scene.  They laughed uproariously as she reached the door.

          "How the mighty have fallen," one crowed.  "A beautiful sight."

          "Yes, Americana cowed like a good girl," another piped in.

          "The most beautiful sight will be Ms Americana, on her back and getting gang banged by us," another said viciously.

          "Yeah," the thug at the door said.  He was six eight, three hundred pounds easily.  He opened the door and waved her in, his hard eyes burning into her 44DDs.  "We're almost there."

          Ms Americana froze at his confident words, baby blues wide in shock.  How close to a gangbang was she?  Would Erica give her to them that night?  How, oh how, would she escape that most unsavory of fates?  She'd been fighting crimes since a Freshman in High School.  Almost twenty years.  Was it all in vain?  Would her glorious, storied crime-fighting career be snuffed out that night, to end with her as helpless fuck meat for the forces of evil?

          Slipping past the grinning thug, she entered the main house.  A gorgeous redhead in a tight satin French maid uniform met her.  She smiled brightly at the sexy super heroine, and even her big green eyes couldn't stray long from the Queen of Justice's monster mammaries.

          "My mistress iz waiting for you in zhe Great Room, Ms Americana," the French maid said in a French accent.  Ms Americana raised a questioning eyebrow at her.  "Please, go on in.  My mistress iz most impatient to meet with you."

          "I bet she is," Ms Americana said, suddenly overwhelmed with dread.  Why hadn't she come up with a ploy to escape unscathed, with Flag Girl, and without anyone knowing their secret identities?  But there was no time left.  The vivacious vigilante took a deep, steadying breath, and started towards the indicated double doors.  "Well now, we wouldn't want to keep the mistress waiting, now would we?"

          "On no, we would not," she said.

          The French maid made a sexy little high-heeled dash -- clicky-click, clicky-click -- to the double doors ahead of Ms Americana.  She turned both knobs and pushed, and stepped through first.  Ms Americana followed on her heels.

          "Ms Americana iz here," she announced grandly, curtsied, and left, closing the doors behind her.

          Ms Americana heard the doors click locked.

          "Oh, my," Ms Americana whispered, coming to a halt wide-eyed and open mouthed.

          "Surprise," Erica said, and grinned.  "I invited a couple mutual friends, to witness your surrender and submission."

          The Great Room was full of the minions of evil.  Crime lords.  Pimps.  Pushers.  Prostitutes.  Pornographers.  Even the head of Vice was there, Chief Wessel. 

          "Please, ignore us," King Pimp said.  "Go on."

          There was a simmering dark hunger in their eyes.  This would be a red letter day for them all.  The witnesses would talk about this day for years, maybe decades.  It could end up being the highlight of their pathetic, misspent lives.

          Ms Americana found herself frozen in place.  Did they know already she was Brenda Wade?  Or was that to be a big surprise, a bonus so to speak?  But with another fifty or sixty evil men and women in the room with them, she wasn't likely to escape the terrible fate Erica had planned for her and Lydia.

          "I'm waiting," Erica said from across the room.  She was decked out in all black leather, dominatrix style, but with a tight skirt and fishnet hose instead of pants.  She had a wicked looking riding crop in hand.  Lydia knelt beside her, her face covered with a blue mask, but wearing only a white bustier with garters holding up white hose and white strappy sandals with five inch stiletto heels over sexy little ruffled socks.  She was supposed to be a naughty school girl or something.  "Surrender and kneel before me, Ms Americana."

          The Queen of Justice paused to compose herself.  A deep breath helped.  Then she lifted her chin high, and walked with slow dignity towards Erica.  The room fell deathly silent, so that the only sound was the clicking of Ms Americana's stiletto boots on the hardwood floor.  She approached to within three feet of Erica and struck a classic super heroine pose -- head high and proud, 44DDs thrust out and red gloved hands on well rounded hips.

          Everyone sucked in their breath at the sight of her, even Erica.

          "I'm waiting," Erica said.

          Ms Americana felt a tremble deep in her belly.  She had no out.  Hell, she could barely think at all in her fear and despair.  She licked full red lips, glanced briefly at the waiting, breathless horde and turned back to Erica.  Despite her best efforts to keep a brave face no matter what, Ms Americana felt a pair of hot tears escape her baby blues as realization crystallized in her mind, heart and soul -- she lost.  She belonged to Erica now.

          "Erica…I-I-I sur-surrender myself…into your tender mercies," Ms Americana whispered hoarsely.  With trembling, red gloved fingers she reached behind her back and unfastened the power belt.  She gasped as super strength rushed out of her legendary, statuesque body.  Holding out the lovingly folded power belt, "I g-give you the source of my strength." 

          "I accept," Erica said.  There was a collective gasp as everyone watched incredulously, even though they knew it was the reason they were there.  No one could believe Ms Americana really was giving herself to a mob boss of her own free will.  It was beyond belief.  "With pleasure."

          Erica took the belt, smiled with satisfaction, then looked at her mask with expectation.  Ms Americana locked eyes with her, wide baby blues with gleeful dark browns.  The Queen of Justice glanced at Lydia, kneeling in her tight bonds -- aghast, crying and ball-gagged.  The vanquished vigilante cleared her throat, swallowed hard to clear the knot there, and cleared it again.

          "And, of course, the final nail in my coffin," Ms Americana said with a trembling voice.  She reached up to her mask.  In almost twenty years of being a super heroine, she'd lost every article of her costume, EXCEPT her mask.  In that time, every other super heroine had been unmasked, including Lydia twice, but not her.  She'd been able to catch the criminals that unmasked her comrades in costumed crime fighting, and wipe their memories.  But there were too many witnesses.  Within the hour her true identity would be spread to the far corners of the globe.  "I give you…my m-mask."

          With that Ms Americana pulled off her legendary blue, star-spangled mask.  She placed it in Erica's hand then turned to the audience and shook her long, luxurious black hair back out of her face.

          It was obvious that every one of them recognized her immediately.  She'd tangled with them all both as Ms Americana and Brenda Wade, in very different ways and manners.  Brenda was just as big a thorn in their side as Ms Americana, if not more so since she had the ear of the mayor, city council and most of the city's business and social leaders in a way no super heroine could ever hope to match.

          "Fucking Brenda Wade!" Kid Rotten cried.  "Wahoo!  Erica, my girl, you kicked Ms Americana AND Brenda Wade to the curb with one fell swoop!  God, I love you."

          Erica reached down and ripped off Lydia's mask.  "And her faithful sidekick?  None other than Lydia Wills, Brenda Wade's obnoxiously perky ward."

          "Erica, I would forego my bribe this month if you honored me with Ms Americana's first blow job as a sex slave," Chief Wessel called out.

          "Only if you're willing to get it in front of everyone," Erica said, freezing Ms Americana's heart.  She would rather suck both Kid Rotten's and King Pimp's rancid cocks than even look at Chief Wessel's dick.  He was a traitor to the police and the people.  They were at least honest about who and what they were.  "And I will consider it getting off cheap."

          "It's a deal!" Wessel cried.

          He was called the Weasel by everyone, police and criminal alike.  Everyone knew he was crooked, they just couldn't prove it.  Ms Americana had tried for years and years, and tonight she would suffer the consequences of those noble efforts.

          "Kneel, Ameri-slave," Erica commanded.

          Ms Americana dutifully obeyed.  What else could she do?  She really wanted to know.  Then the Weasel caught her attention, moving through the crowd towards their fateful tryst.  He was six feet four, out of shape and with a pronounced paunch.  At forty-five, he was a twenty-two year veteran of the police, and the Chief of Vice.  She'd known him most of his career, both as Ms Americana and Brenda Wade.  He had leered at her from day one, mostly at her large tits and full lips.  Almost every comment from him involved sexual innuendo, if not an outright proposition.  In recent years, he'd gotten worse and more vulgar.  It made Ms Americana's skin crawl just to think that he would be the first to enjoy her sexual servitude.  And, oh, how he would enjoy it, savor and revel in it.

          The Weasel stepped before the kneeling super heroine, now captured, unmasked and enslaved.  He paused to caress her silky black hair with gentle awe, then finger the spike in her tiara.  Then he looked down at her lips, so full and glistening red.  So kissable looking.  Lips he'd dreamed of seeing and feeling wrapped around his cock for almost twenty years.  Twenty LONG years of cock teasing.  He ran his thumb across her lower lips, feeling the greasy lip gloss. 

          "Take off your top," the Weasel said.  "I want to see those giant titties."

          "No," Erica said.  "Not yet.  Give him his BJ.  Now."

          "Yes, mistress," Ms Americana whispered miserably.  There wasn't anything to do but get it over with as quickly as possible.  She was determined he wouldn't enjoy it as long as he might like.  So she unzipped him, pulled out his cock and promptly swallowed it whole.  The room had a side view, so they saw it all -- and gasped again at the sight of Ms Americana on her knees and giving oral sex to her hated enemy.  "Mmmmm."

          The cast down Queen of Justice used every trick in the book to get the Weasel off as fast as possible.  She slurped and hummed, moaned and groaned wantonly, rolled her tongue up and down and all around his rancid cock and nut sack, and was finally rewarded after seven minutes with a thick glob of cum across the tongue.  Then he pulled out and whacked off in her face, shooting his milky seed across her left cheek, upper lip and chin.  At Erica's command, she used her finger and tongue to scoop up and lick up all the cum, eating every last drop.  Then she licked him clean.

          "Okay, now all of you were giving two numbers before when you arrived, pulled out of two hats to be fair," Erica said.  "The blue number is the order in which you get to fuck Ms Americana.  The red number is the order in which you get to fuck Flag Girl.  Will the number one red please hold up your number?"

          "Wahoo!" Kid Rotten called and holding up his number.  "And I'm number five for Ms Americana.  Sweet."

          Lydia was released from her bonds.  She staggered to her feet, and quickly made her way to Kid.  Within seconds she was impaled upon his huge cock, moaning and groaning.

          "I see the cartel trained her well," Erica said, and they all laughed.  "Now, who gets Ms Americana first?"

          "I do," King Pimp said, grinning viciously at the sexy super heroine turned sex slave.

          Ms Americana nodded in resignation, and slowly crawled to the towering, African-American pimp since he was only about five feet away.  She started by pulling out his monster black cock, all twelve inches of it, and sucking it to hardness.  Then she stood up before him, and removed her top.  The crowd gasped again.  After removing her bottoms, she straddled his lap and guided his cock into her cunt.

          "Great Liberty!" she cried, feeling his long, thick cock spread her wider and wider.

          "Yes, you'll be good and tamed once I'm through with you, Americana," King Pimp said.  Placing his huge hands around her tiny waist, the legendary pimp pushed the former premier super heroine in Delta City down his endlessly long cock.  "This is better than I ever imagined it would be."

          Ms Americana didn't care.  The pain and pleasures were all consuming.  Hands in her thick black hair she threw back her head and screamed.  She writhed atop him, impaled upon his black pole.  The sexy super heroine never imagined it could feel like that.

          "Great Liberty, he's going to tame me," she cried wild-eyed.  The liquid heat was engulfing her shapely body with record speed.  She didn't know if it was emotional, psychological, or physical, but he was taking her from cold to climax in record speed.  Within a minute she was bouncing up and down without prompting, sliding ever further down his shaft with each descent.  She felt sweat break out all over her body, and realized that within two minutes she was panting loudly.  "I'm going to cum!"

          "No, hold it," Erica demanded.

          "Please no, I can't."

          "Don't cum until after he does," Erica commanded.

          Ms Americana became frantic.  She understood, if Erica didn't, that once she reached a certain point there would be no turning back.  She was dangerously close to that point.  In fact, if she just let herself go she would climax within seconds.  But she fought it as ordered.  But to get him to climax she changed her tactics.

          Ms Americana leaned forward and fed the hated pimp an erect nipple.  Both of his hands came up and grabbed her 44DDs, squeezing, caressing and otherwise enjoying and molesting them to his heart's content.  That just stoked the fire in her belly more, making her need to climax so badly.  Indeed, the building orgasm was becoming scary.  She knew the longer she held it at bay, the bigger and more devastating it would be when it overwhelmed her defenses.

          Soon King Pimp was banging the hell out of her pussy.  Ms Americana gasped and panted, clutched at his broad shoulders and groaned wantonly as he molested her titanic tits at the same time.  The gorgeous super babe glanced at Erica, and her riding crop, and redoubled her efforts to shore up her crumbling defenses against that growing Granddaddy of climaxes.  Then she leaned into King Pimp and whispered in his ear.

          "You are fucking me, Ms Americana," she said.  "You are TAMING Brenda Wade.  You are fucking them both into submission at the same time."

          And she kissed him long and hard, open mouth and full tongue.  Fifteen seconds later, King Pimp's cock erupted deep inside her belly.  She milked him of every last drop, not hesitating in her erotic bouncing even a second, and all the while kissing him deeper than she'd ever kissed anyone before.

          And then she lost the battle.

          "Mmmmmmmppphhhhhh-Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Ms Americana cried, head thrown back and arms thrown wide.  "Great Liberty, I've been TAAAMMMMEEED!  Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

          A few minutes later Ms Americana was kneeling between a notorious drug pusher's knees, slurping eagerly on his cock.  Everyone watched in amazement as the once obnoxiously chaste woman sucked cock with wild abandon.  It was so obvious she was a born whore.  And Lydia was just as wanton and enthusiastic.  Man or woman, they answered every request, every yearning, every kinky, disgusting demand without hesitation.  After being tamed, like most "superior" women blessed/cursed with the Aphrodite gene, they morphed from Warriors Prime to Whores Prime.

          Ms Americana and Flag Girl were passed around the room all night.  They took care of every man and woman invited.  Then they were laid down on the floor side by side, spread eagle and chained into position.

          Erica unleashed her goons, thugs and enforcers.  Their enemies watched as the Family's soldiers ran a pair of trains on them, watched as the city's most feared super heroine duo was gang-banged unconscious.  They watched, drank wine and Champaign, and celebrated the capture, subjugation and taming of Ms Americana and Flag Girl.

          Their vengeance was perfect.

          The next day the exhausted duo was allowed to sleep but come night, they were dressed in their costumes and put to work.  Filming their first of many, many porn movies.  Erica was tireless in making good her vow to make the name Ms Americana synonymous with kinky porn.  She also did the same to the name Brenda Wade.  Ms Americana and Flag Girl, Brenda Wade and Lydia Wills became instant porn stars, out selling the next top one hundred stars combined.  They made Erica a fortune.

          Speaking of fortunes, it didn't take long for Erica to absorb Brenda's companies.  Then she turned Wade Manor into the headquarters of her porn empire, Aphrodite Girl Productions, using it for the sets to most of Brenda's and Ms Americana's porn movies.  But it was a huge mansion, so she quickly figured out it made a good high class brothel, too.  After that it was only a small step to make Brenda turn tricks during the down times in movie making.

          Brenda and Lydia excelled at hooking and porn acting.  They were naturals.  It came across loud and clear that they loved their jobs, and loved getting fucked long and hard.

 

THE END