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. Put Ms Americana, the story’s title or Story feedback in subject line, otherwise I might think it is spam and delete. Or visit my blog at: http://writer-dark-one.livejournal.com/.

MS AMERICANA: GOOD THING

By Dark One

“Perfect,” Ms Americana said, studying her full, red and very glossy lips in the mirror. Her baby blues studied her face – eye makeup perfect, silky black hair perfect, mask and tiara looked perfect. Even her red star earrings and choker looked perfect on her. “Can’t do better than that. Good thing, too.”

The super sexy super heroine climbed out of her red, white and blue supped up sports car. The street was brightly lit right there. She was only at the edge of Sugar Town, after all. She scowled as she looked around, spotting streetwalkers and johns, pushers and addicts, tourist and the more depraved of Delta City’s locals.

Ms Americana looked down at her 38G boobs. They were held tight and perfectly, sexily displayed in a strapless top – one huge cup red and white stripes and the other blue with white stars. Gold trim finished it out spectacularly. She reached up and pulled up on the tender white flesh, plumping those sweet puppies up even more. What man could resist them? None she’d ever met. Then she pulled up on her matching bikini bottoms, thongs of course, snugging them up nicely. The pressure on her freshly shaven pussy felt way too good. Then she adjusted the golden power belt around her narrow waist, settling it prettily upon her flaring hips. The belt was the secret to her awesome super powers. She was an Aphrodite woman, and the belt unleashed her latent super powers. Without it, she was just an amazingly athlete, but nothing too special. Finally, the vivacious vigilante tugged on her red gauntlet gloves as she studied her red calf boots, with the slender five inch stiletto heels. They were perfect, and for fifteen hundred dollars they should be!

“Perfect.”

The legendary Queen of Justice turned and regarded the building she was parked in front of. It sat at the edge of Delta City’s more dangerous, most disreputable and depraved red light district – Sugar Town. It was a former hotel, now expanded to fill the whole block. The Palace was the premier cathouse in Delta City, a city known for its houses of ill-repute. Ten stories tall, it bragged of having the top three “Gentlemen’s Clubs” in the city, and over one thousand extremely beautiful women to make every man’s most erotic fantasy come true. They catered to every fetish and perversion.

The sight of the building she hated more than any other sent a chill down her spine. That chill turned into raging butterflies deep in her belly. Even her snatch started to moisten up. She hated it when that happened. King Pimp owned that brothel from Hell, and she’d never defeated him. Unfortunately, in her fourteen year storied crime fighting career, he had gotten the drop on her five times. Each resulted in her getting her sweet round ass handed to her on a silver platter, and then him and his boys fucking her stupid. Fortunately, she’d always escaped before he could remove her mask.

Her throat tightened and her hands began to tremble a tiny bit. The Palace and King Pimp always got to her. Ms Americana fought to keep thoughts of what he did to her during those captures suppressed. The last thing she needed now was to be distracted by such disgusting thoughts. The man had ZERO respect for women in general, and super heroines in particular.

Ms Americana nodded at the two men in dark suits standing beside a long, black Rolls-Royce limousine. The license plate was BW-1.

“Move fast, boys,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” they said.

They were big men, strong men. Wade Security officers, and both highly decorated war heroes. They cost a lot, but were well worth it.

Taking a deep, deep breath to steady her nerves. “As soon as Ms Lydia Wills comes out those doors you grab her and take her away to safety fast.”

“Consider it done, ma’am.”

“Her safety is my only concern right now, boys. Don’t let me down.”

With that, Ms Americana, the legendary Queen of Justice and Delta City’s premier super heroine started walking towards the front door of the Palace. The usual doorman was missing, as were the big, hulking bouncers that usually framed the front door. She smiled, knowing she was the reason. Then with one more final deep breath, she pulled open the door and stepped inside.

Ms Americana’s heart dropped instantly. Lydia was on her knees, naked save for a pair of red stiletto pumps. A dog collar encircled her slender throat, with a leash attached and going up to King Pimp’s huge hand. The poor thing had a bright red ball gag fastened around her head. Tears of despair rolled freely down her flushed cheeks.

The super shapely super heroine had to quickly brush away a single tear rolling out of her eye. The main entry was packed with men and women, johns and hookers, bouncers and other staff. All were watching her expectantly.

“Release Ms Wills.”

“Are you surrendering yourself to me?” King Pimp said. "You agree to take her place in The Palace…as a WHORE."

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Lydia started shaking her head NO, frantically. Ms Americana assumed a super heroine pose – head high and chin up, chest thrust out, gloved hands on well rounded hips and one leg cocked. It was a sassy pose. She shook back her waist-length, glossy black hair and arched a haughty brow at the huge pimp.

King Pimp was a monster of a man. He towered at six foot six, with a short afro, broad muscular shoulders and a narrow waist. She knew him to be a vicious fighter and a ferocious lover. He was as massively endowed as he was tall. He tamed her ass a few times, a thought that sent her libido into overdrive at that critical moment. Ms Americana fought to maintain her composure, or at least her outwardly appearance of being composed.

“Release 'Lil Lydia,” King Pimp said.

“But boss, Ms Americana hasn’t surrendered properly to you. She is next to the door and still has on her power belt,” a bouncer said.

King Pimp glanced at Ms Americana. “Do you surrender?”

“I surrender. I am yours to do with as you please, once Lydia is safely away.”

“The power belt?” he said.

The statuesque super heroine graced him with a tiny smile. “I’ll put it in your hand myself when Lydia is safe.”

“What if I want it first?”

“No. I can be trusted to keep my word. I don’t trust you.”

King Pimp laughed. He released the leash to fall on the floor. “Get her out the door, fast.”

Another bouncer grabbed Lydia by the arm and hauled her to her feet. She was hurried to the front door, right past Ms Americana. Lydia reached out to her beloved mentor and guardian. Their hands touched briefly. Then she was out the door. Ms Americana watched over her shoulder as Wade Security took Lydia away.

Brenda Wade had secured Lydia’s safety and future. Lydia didn’t know it, but she already possessed all of Brenda’s wealth and companies. She was being taken to a secure location, where she would be safe from any threats.

“Lydia is a free woman,” King Pimp said. “As I promised. Now, about your promise.”

“It’s a good thing,” Ms Americana said, suddenly seized by tremors. She fought them down, then took two deep breathes. The moment of truth had arrived. “Fate has spoken. I am yours, King Pimp.”

“My lover?”

“Lover. Whore. Porn queen, whatever you want.”

“All of that, and much, much more,” King Pimp said, grinning wickedly. He pointed at his crotch, now tented by his raging hard-on. “Tend me. Make it pretty for the cameras.”

Half a dozen cameramen stepped out of the stunned silent crowd. There were huge flat screen monitors high up on the walls all around the room, where sports or porno movies usually played. Now, those screens were filled with her. Her face, tits, ass, from different distances and angles. She felt her throat tighten some more, and her belly did a flip. Her debauchment would be well documented. King Pimp would make a fortune selling the DVD.

“I am yours to command,” Ms Americana said hoarsely. She stepped up to her new lord and master, and dropped to her knees. Actually, she kind of expected him to rip off her top, but he didn’t. Apparently he wanted her in full costume for the initial humiliation ceremony. Trembling red-gloved fingers fumbled with his zipper, but soon were pulling ten inches of thick, black cock out of his pants. Without hesitation, the Queen of Justice wrapped her full red lips around the head of that dick, and started gobbling him down hungrily. Indeed, she surprised herself even more than the spectators at how eagerly she swallowed him down. Oddly enough, she never saw the wanton groan she emitted coming. “Mmmmmmggggggghhhhhhh!”

“A natural born whore,” King Pimp said. He watched as the cameras zoomed in for close-ups. Very tight close ups, of her glossy red lips sliding up and down the length of his full ten inches. As great as it looked, it felt ten times better. “Tell everyone who taught you to give head and suck dick.”

“You did, King Pimp. Thirteen years ago, when you captured me that first time,” Ms Americana admitted between loud slurps and tiny little moans and groans. “You took my virginity, too, right after my first cocksucking lesson.”

The assembled masses hooted and laughed with glee at her admission. Ms Americana felt her face flush, burning with shame, but at the same time her lower belly was raging. Her twat was hyper hot, soaking wet. She was so damned horny. So she kept sucking, enjoying the taste of King Pimp’s cock, and hating herself for loving it.

“Hmmmmmghh,” Ms Americana groaned. She sucked on the head of his cock, rolling her hot, wet tongue all around it and then licked the thick black shaft from balls to head, and all around before swallowing him for some intense head, followed by equally intense deep throat. “MMmmmmmggghhhh.”

King Pimp held up well, lasting a good thirty-five minutes of her most intense head and cock sucking. Then he grasped and ballooned her cheeks, the cameras zooming in to record the tiny bit of creamy white cum escaping around her lips. His coming sent her libido into overdrive. She squirmed on her knees before him, hungrily sucking it all down with an eager mouth -- gulp…slurp…gulp…slurp…gulp…SLURP!

“Didn’t I tell you?” King Pimp declared triumphantly. “Ms Americana is not a superior woman, she is a superior WHORE. A wild WANTON whore. A whore born and bred, and now upstairs is her whore bed.” He threw back his head and laughed. “Who will be Ms Americana’s very first paying customer? Who will be her first JOHN?”

Memememememememe they all cried hysterically.

King Pimp laughed, then glanced down at the sexy super heroine still sucking and licking his cock and balls absolutely clean. Just like he taught her so long ago. She never failed to perform this all important service, either, without prompting, even after all those years. She was well trained, and he was proud to be the man who trained her.

“Stand up, Ameri-whore,” King Pimp said.

“Now what?” she asked, rising up to face him in a not so haughty super heroine pose. Same pose as before, but this time with a softer, sultrier look on her beautiful masked face. “You want my belt now? Or my mask?”

The thought of her handing over her belt really fired up his blood, but not as much as unmasking the arrogant, holier-than-thou super heroine. He so wanted to know who was behind that damned mask. But like always, he knew that once she was unmasked the mystic would be lost. Right now, she was super sexy Ms Americana, unmasked she was just another big-jugged bimbo in a bikini and heels.

“I think later,” King Pimp said. “After you are thoroughly tamed and indoctrinated into your new life as a brothel whore. Besides, don’t you think your very first john deserves to have you in full costume?”

Ms Americana felt overwhelming relief. Technically, she gave her sacred Word of Honor to submit to King Pimp’s every whim and desire, up to and including assuming a life of abject debauchery as his hooker. BUT if one of her sisters in crime fighting should arrive, and rescue her…well, it wasn’t her fault. In fact, she purposely didn’t tell any of the other super heroines about what was happening, just so her honor would remain unstained if she was rescued. Of course, the likelihood any of the other heroines knew of her plight was minuscule, but it was all the hope she had. Otherwise, once the mask came off her fate was set in stone.

“Do I pick my first trick, or do you?” Ms Americana said, glancing around at all the eager-eyed perverts. “You are my pimp now, after all.”

Everyone of them, women included, wanted to impale her sweet round ass, and pay her fifty dollars cash for the privilege. In her fourteen years as Americana, she’d barely escaped actual prostitution more times than she cared to count. True, some deviants had caught her, tied her up and charged men to have sex with her. But she was not actively prostituting herself. So she didn’t consider that being a hooker. There were quite a few handsome men in the crowd, and a lot of old and/or ugly men. Old, ugly and depraved greatly outnumbered wholesome handsome men by a big margin.

“Lottery,” King Pimp said. He signaled and his main squeeze and the Palace’s head Hostess stepped forward with a large bowl cradled in both hands. The gorgeous redhead was a former Playboy Playmate of the Year, and was wearing a black leather bunny costume complete with ears and cotton tail. Beverly Beavers was a stunner, and second only to Ms Americana in that room. “Everyone who wants you took a number, and put it in the bowl. You will pick the number of your first JOHN.”

The room fell silent as the super stacked Queen of Justice reached into the large bowl. It was filled with little red tickets, the other half torn off by the hopeful johns. She stirred the tickets, driving the men crazy with anticipation. Ms Americana realized she was enjoying herself. That seemed wrong, seeing as she was choosing who would be the man (or woman) to seal her fate, to finally after almost a decade and a half, turn her into a official hooker. The winner of the lottery would turn her into the very kind of woman she hated and despised the most -- a pathetic, wretched prostitute.

Finally, the vivacious super vixen pulled out a single red ticket. She looked at the number, baby blues bugging out in shock. Then she shook her head woefully, knowing it had to be a sign from the Goddess that she was truly abandoned and doomed.

“What number?” King Pimp said.

“It’s…it’s….sheeze…,” she said, and took a deep breath. “The man, or JOHN, who gets the dubious honor of fucking me into whoredom, is….number….69!”

Ms Americana held the ticket out so King Pimp could read the number and he laughed. Indeed, most of the crowd noted the irony, and laughed. But no one hooted with glee more than the winner. Number 69 was a tall, freckle-faced redhead. He was just a little taller than Ms Americana in her sky high heels, but lanky.

“Strangely enough,” King Pimp said loudly. “Ms Americana is on the Super Heroine floor. Floor 6. Room 9. Or…room 69.”

“Perfect,” Ms Americana said. She shrugged. She was there of her own volition. She was doing the “right thing” and a very “good thing” to save her protégé. She was responsible for Lydia’s well being, so there she was. Taking Lydia’s place at The Palace. “Shall we go upstairs, lover?”

Loverboy reached over and gave her 38Gs a firm squeeze. Ms Americana slapped it hand away, but otherwise didn’t do anything. She really expected to be treated far worse than what she was getting. The john laughed, and patted her firm round butt cheeks. She let that pass, and took him by hand instead. Holding hands kept him from touching her further.

“He still has to pay, Ms Ameri-whore,” King Pimp called. “Fifty dollars for this first trick, one hundred after that. You are, or WERE, the premier super heroine in Delta City, after all.”

They all laughed at that. She didn’t think it was so funny. But then, she was the loser of this deal from Hell.

“Perfect.”

Ms Americana led him into the elevator, and pushed 6. The elevator shot right up to the 6^th floor. Far faster than she found comforting. It was as if even the building was eager to see her finally, forever slapped down and put in her place.

The elevator doors opened up to reveal the legendary, infamous and highly notorious Super Heroine Floor. They stopped to look around the elevator lobby on the sixth floor, both stunned. Directly before them were double doors, with the lobby walls covered in “action” shots of Delta City’s top super heroines over the years, getting fucked. To the left of the doors was a full-sized side shot of Ms Americana bent over at the waist, with King Pimp fucking her up from behind. Her top was on the floor below the sexy super heroine, while her bottoms were pooled around her booted ankles. Her all important golden power belt was held high in King Pimp’s left hand while his right hand had a fistful of shiny black hair. A fat john was standing in front of her, his cock shoved down the Queen of Justice’s throat.

“Wow,” her red-headed john said, gawking and getting hornier.

“That was the first time King Pimp captured me. In fact, that is the very moment I lost my virginity,” she whispered, her mind full of that intense moment so long ago, and yet felt like yesterday. It was a moment she NEVER forgot, and dreamed about many times a week. “I escaped, but I understand he still has that costume and power belt on display somewhere within The Palace. His greatest battle trophy, no doubt.”

To the right of the doors was another full-sized poster, but this was of a hogtied Lady Midnight eating out a helpless Flag Girl’s pussy. A man is butt-fucking Lady Midnight at the same time, while another has his cock down Flag Girl’s eager mouth. That photo was from just six months back. At the time, Ms Americana was behind the cameraman taking the video that picture was taken from, getting lesbian fucked by Beverly Beavers and a hot redheaded whore, while King Pimp watched with wicked glee. Ms Americana and Flag Girl escaped just ten minutes later, but poor Lady Midnight was unmasked and still working in the Super Heroine Lounge as far as Ms Americana knew.

To their right was the Wall of Shamed Super Heroines. On that walls were glamour headshots of each super heroine available for hire within the Super Heroine Lounge. The sexy super heroine’s right eyebrow rose when she spotted her on PR headshot at the top, in the place of honor.

“Let’s go in, I’m super horny, babe.”

“I bet you are,” Ms Americana said, trying hard to not sneer. She’d agreed to do this, to be King Pimp’s whore. Therefore, honor demanded she be the best hooker she possibly could be. “I’m so hot for you, too, baby. Let’s go do this.”

Above the double doors was a sign: Welcome to Super Heroine Hell.

The doors were open, so they walked through hand-in-hand. The lounge beyond was larger than Ms Americana expected. The color theme was red and black. First thing, she spotted the three stages with stripper poles. Lady Midnight was in full costume dancing on one, with a completely naked Wolf Woman sixty-nining Jungle Babe on another, and a topless Champion Girl pole dancing on another. At the bar to the side, and at numerous bistro tables, couches and booths, she spotted captured sidekicks and lesser heroines chatting up johns, giving lap dances, or getting reamed out royally. To her surprise, she spotted some heroines from other cities she never knew King Pimp owned. Glory Girl was giving an old man a lap dance, while Puritan was leading a pair of black men toward a door in back. Then Ebony Avenger climbed up on stage with Lady Midnight and the two African American beauties started making out passionately.

To Ms Americana’s shame, her libido was super charged after one look at that room. It was a room she would soon troll for hooker work. Within the hour she would be in there, dancing, lap dancing, making out and other wicked things.

Most of the room fell silent and stared open-mouthed at Ms Americana. The other heroines looked grim, but the men looked excited. With a tight throat and hammering heart, the sexy vanquished vigilante led her first trick through that room and to the door Puritan left through.

“Room 69, Americana,” the bartender called out.

“I know,” she said, and led the way into a darker hallway.

The hallway had red carpet and gaudy red and gold wallpaper and gilded fixtures. Beside each door was a poster of the heroine working within, with her super heroine name and real name listed. Most of the doors were closed, but a handful were open with sexy super heroines standing there waiting for customers. She spotted Shield in room 62, and Southern Girl in 67. Then they reached room 69. Her poster was already up. It was a PR poster of her in a classic super heroine pose.

The sexy super heroine opened the door with trembling hands, and stepped inside her new home. It was a ten by ten room, with a twin sized bed, a straight back chair, small table next to the chair and finished out with a sink and toilet. It stank of stale sex already. On the walls were more kinky action shots of Ms Americana’s previous captures, getting fucked, tied up and otherwise debauched. There was even a mirror over the bed so she could watch herself being fucked for money. Steel bars covered the window.

“Be it ever so disgusting, there’s no place like home,” she said, nose scrunched up.

“Hey, can we do that?” the john said, pointing at a picture of Ms Americana getting fucked with her booted feet crossed behind her head. In the picture her ankles were bound, and then tied to her throat. It was a particularly insidious bondage pose, and one she hoped to never repeat.

“I’m not that limber anymore. Fifty dollars, please,” Ms Americana said, turning to face her first john after closing the door. She held out a red gloved hand and waited, and prayed he failed to have the required sum. But he eagerly laid two twenties and a ten in her hand. She quickly counted it, twice, then stuffed the money down her left boot top. No pockets.

“Get naked and in the bed, please,” Ms Americana said.

“You’re really going through with this, aren’t you?” he said, amazed.

“Of course. I gave my word. Ms Americana does NOT lie, buster,” the sexy super heroine said, baby blues narrowing dangerously. “I belong to King Pimp now, and he wants me to turn tricks. So I turn tricks. Simple as that.”

“This is so cool!” he said, pulling off his shirt, then hopping around as he pulled off his shoes. “I can’t wait to tell all my friends that I fucked Ms Fucking Americana! I was the first one, too. Are you a virgin?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a thirty-two year old woman, who looks like THIS,” she said. Truth was, she’d never once had vaginal sex as Brenda Wade. She’d given a few BJs, all while in college, but her cherry wasn’t busted until King Pimp caught her at age nineteen. “Besides, I admitted downstairs that King Pimp popped my cherry thirteen years ago.” She glanced down at his underwear as he pulled off his jocky shorts. “Man, you really should wear clean underwear when visiting a hooker. That’s just nasty.”

“I like nasty.”

“Nasty is extra after tonight. Don't forget if you want to fuck me again,” she said, removing her top. His eyes bugged out as her 38Gs dropped and jostled enticingly. She paused to rub them, since the top always hurt just a tad. He seemed to be enjoying the show, if his major boner was any indication. “Fifty buys you a fuck and suck. I suck you hard, then you climb on and finish it up between my legs. Anything deviating from that scenario is extra. Do you want extra?”

“Damn! You haven’t even knocked out your first trick and you are already talking like a pro,” he said.

“I heavily researched my new…um…job, right after I agreed to submit to King Pimp’s tender mercies,” she admitted, shrugging. “If I’m going to be a disgusting whore, then at least I can be the BEST whore in the whore house. I will not accept anything less than the best, no matter what I do.”

“Is licking my balls extra?”

“No. Comes with cocksucking, in my book,” she said, and slide her thong bottoms down mile long legs. Standing up, she touched her power belt. “On or off?”

“On! Only the top and bottoms off,” he said. “I want to see who I am fucking, I want to see me fucking Ms Americana, with no doubt about it.”

“Then let’s get this party started,” Ms Americana said, seizing his cock and pulling him toward the bed. Pushing him atop the bed, she crawled atop him. Then she fed him a big, fat tit. “You’ve been staring at these long enough. Taste and enjoy.”

While his hard, sticky cock poked, slapped and rubbed all over her inner thighs and rump, the john grabbed a perfect pair of 38G super tits and went to town. He enjoyed the way she yipped and jumped when he gently nibbled her rock hard, engorged and highly sensitive nipples, while squeezing, caressing, and otherwise savoring her titanic tits like a big boy should. Since he was her first, Ms Americana let him take his time and enjoy her tits for a good twenty minutes, before she took charge.

“Time for the end game, baby,” Ms Americana said. She started kissing and nuzzling her way down his neck, across his chest and belly, and finally arrived at his aching, rock hard cock. She used all of her talents to give him the very best head, cocksucking and ball licking possible. “Mmmmgggghhh.”

“I can’t take it anymore!” he cried. “I want to fuck you now!”

Ms Americana rolled off the john. He slipped up atop her, so she spread her long, shapely legs. Wider. Then she took him in hand, and guided him to her sopping wet, fiery hot twat. The john pushed all the way in with one long, smooth thrust.

“Oh yes! Yes! That is so damn good!”

“Uuuuuggghh,” Ms Americana cried, back arching and arms thrown wide. “Oh baby! That’s how to do it! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

“Damn, you are the tightest whore I ever fucked.”

“Oh, you are so big,” she groaned, feeling her spectacular body changing, becoming hotter, the butterflies burned away. “I think I am…going to ….COMMMMMMEEEEE!”

As the former Queen of Justice gawked up at her john, amazed, he doubled the rate he was pumping into her. He was trying so hard to not come yet. He wanted it to last forever. But he lost it, filling her pussy with hot, sticky cream.

“Oh, Great Liberty I am….Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee!”

The john just held his cock deep inside her, propped up above her and grinning down at her. He looked so damned pleased with himself, too. Strangely, she didn’t feel particularly displeased, either.

“Time to get back to work,” Ms Americana said breathlessly. She rolled him off her, then before he crawled off the bed she took his sticky cock in hand, and lowed her mouth to his lap. He watched in amazement as she licked and sucked his cock and balls clean. “I aim to please. Remember me next time you come to the Palace, baby.”

“Hell, if this is your standard suck and fuck, you just got yourself a regular, Ms Americana,” he said, enthusiastically. “I’ll visit you every payday, twice a month.”

“And I’ll take special care of you, too, baby,” Ms Americana said, smiling sultrily. While he dressed, she gave herself a whore bath at the sink, then pulled on her top and bottoms. Once they were both dressed, she escorted him back down to the main lobby. “Bye-bye, baby. Come again.”

Ms Americana watched him walk out the front door, wishing she had that option. But she had promised King Pimp, and she was a woman of word. So she glanced around the room, seeing all the eager-eyed men waiting their turn at her. Before she could make a choice, a large Hispanic man stepped out of the crowd. He was tall and broad, and a notorious drug dealer and gang banger.

"I'm next, Americana," Hernando said, his voice a hoarse rasp due to an injury she caused two years back. "We got issues to work out, and those are best done with my dick up her fat ass."

She looked past him to her pimp. King Pimp smiled cruelly.

"He won't hurt you," the pimp said. "Not badly."

"You only said I can't MARK her."

"You can be as rough as you want, just don’t leave any marks," King Pimp said. "I mean, she's Ms Americana! This night is dedicated to destroying and PUNISHING her. Have at it, my friend."

"Wait," Ms Americana cried, wild-eyed. "This man HATES me!"

"Then I suggest you be real damn submission and accommodating, Ameri-ho," King Pimp said, grinning wickedly.

"That's right, Ameri-whore," Hernando growled, and backhanded her brutally.

"Ugghhh!" she cried, spun around and slammed up against the wall. "Great Liberty, my first trick forced me to climax and now I'm DE-POWERED! I'm helpless to defend myself."

"Perfect," Hernando sneered, forcing her hard against the wall, her arms thrown wide. He reached down and ripped off her red, white and blue patriotically themed thong, before unzipping. "I've wanted to do this since the first time I seen your fine fat ass on TV, Americana. I bet your ass is cherry, isn't it?"

"No! Not up the ass," she cried, held firmly against the wall by the bigger, stronger Latino. She felt his cock slipped up between her satin-skinned butt cheeks, then press against her now throbbing sphincter. "Wait, don't dry fuck my….AAAAAAASSSSSS! Yyyyeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooowwwwwwwwww!"

"Hot damn, this bitch’s ass is TIGHT," Hernando cried, really getting into a hard, fast rhythm as he reamed out her super tight butt hole.

"Aaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee! You're ripping my in half! Oh, Goddess, make him stop," she cried, writhing helplessly against the cold marble wall as Hernando fucked her ass with relish. Then his big hands reached around and grabbed her 38Gs in a vice like grip. New pain erupted, but to her surprise the pain quickly changed to pleasure. Incredible pleasure. "Mmmmmmmmmggggggghhhh, oh Goddess. Oh, yes. Oh, my Goddess yes! Yes! Yes! Oh yes!"
"What a raging PUTA," Hernando laughed.

"I'm a puta!" the super sexy, vanquished vigilante cried. "Great Liberty, I am….going to…CCCCCCCOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMEEEE!"

"Wow, screaming in pain to screaming in pleasure in about two minutes," King Pimp said. "She's a bigger whore than I thought. Boys and girls, Ms Americana was BORN to whore."

"A super whore," Hernando groaned, and then he lost it. She felt his cock convulse, and then hot jizm filled her poop chute.

"Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!" Ms Americana cried. "I have been TAMED!"

"Damn right," Hernando said, pulling out and spewing a few more times on her shapely butt. Then Ms Americana groaned low and long, as she slowly slid down the wall to the floor. "Next!"

King Pimp seized the super statuesque super heroine by her long, black hair and pulled her to her wobbly feet. Then he half-dragged her to the middle of the entrance hall. Beverly Beavers was waiting, and locked leg spreaders on her ankles, forcing her feet to be just a little more than shoulder width apart. Then her wrists were handcuffed behind her back, before a slave collar was fastened around her neck. Finally, the legendary Queen of Justice was forced to bend over, legs straight, knees locked, and a short chain secured her collar to the middle of the spreader bar, leaving her face crotch-high.

"This isn't necessary," Ms Americana groaned, clearly in distress.

"On the contrary," King Pimp said. "While you were upstairs with your first john, we had a vote and this is what was decided on. You will spend the rest of the night like this, taking two men at a time, front and back." He patted her sweet round ass, enjoying how warm and soft it felt. "Line up, boys! Pay Beverly if you want her up the back side, and pay me if you want to fuck her mouth."

Two very long lines of lecherous, horny men formed up. Before Ms Americana realized the true depths of her predicament, a thick shaft was shoved between her full red lips.

"MMmmggghhh!"

And then another dick was thrust deep into her sopping wet pussy a few seconds later. And thus the High and Mighty Queen of Justice, the nation's premier super heroine, the legendary Ms Americana spent the next five hours servicing more men than she ever imagined possible. Only her superior Aphrodite enhanced body was able to take that terrible abuse, but she took it in stride.

Finally, everyone was sated. Or out of money to continue fucking her. King Pimp collected all of the money, and it was quite a bit, too. He walked away from his newest sex slave, while Beverly freed the defeated and debauched super heroine of her cruel restraints. Then on wobbly feet, Ms Americana ushered through the crowd to her lord and master, King Pimp.

Delta City's richest and most notorious pimp sat atop a magnificent throne. He had shed his clothes, and waited for her completely naked. The sexy super heroine felt her belly quaking and quivering, spying his enormous semi-flaccid cock waiting for her.

"All good things must end, Ms Americana," King Pimp's booming bass voice filled the room. "You have given yourself to me freely and with full knowledge of what awaited you. You have CHOSEN to be my WHORE. Now it is finally time to seal the deal, for once and all time."

"I am a woman of my word, King Pimp," Ms Americana whispered, head bowed. "Though I despise hookers with all my being, I submitted to you in full knowledge of what my fate would be. I am yours to use and abuse, however you see fit." She reached back and unfastened her power belt. "I, Ms Americana, surrender the source of my super powers."

She placed the rolled up power belt in King Pimp's hands. But when she reached up to remove her mask, he stopped her.

"Mount me," King Pimp said, his cock rising quickly.

The super sexy vigilante nodded, and took a deep breath. Then she straddled his lap, and guided his ten inch cock to her pussy as she lowered herself. Within seconds, the sexy super heroine was impaled and sliding down his thick black shaft.

"Oooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Ms Americana began bouncing up and down on his cock. Within moments she was riding him with wild abandon, head thrown back, eyes closed and a long wanton groan continuously rolling out of her full red lips. The top pimp in Sugar Town watched her bouncing, jostling tits for a long time, before he finally seized them and began fondling her. She cried out with pleasure, and climaxed.

"Uuuuuuuuggggggggggggghhhhhhhhh!"

"Who is your daddy?" King Pimp demanded.

"You are my daddy."

"Who is your MASTER?"

"You, King Pimp, are my master," she said, then climaxed again. "Aaaaaiiiieeee! You are my master! Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee! Oh Goddess, King Pimp is my master! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggghhhhh!"

King Pimp grabbed her waist length, silky black hair and jerked. Her head snapped back, held tightly. Baby blues wide with fear and dread, she held her breath as his free hand reached up to her face. The crowd grew quiet. It was if everyone held their breath for the great unveiling.

"The woman hiding behind Ms Americana's mask is….," King Pimp called melodramatically. Then he slowly peeled off the blue, star-spangled mask. "….is….Brenda Wade? Really?"

"Really," she said.

"BRENDA WADE! My God, I have captured the two sexiest, most fuckable women in Delta City, rolled into one super sexy whore," King Pimp cried with joy. "Tell the world, Brenda Wade and Ms Americana are one in the same, and I OWN THEM BOTH."

THE END