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

Ms Americana, Flag Girl 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: HARD CHOICES

By Dark One

Sugar Town was Delta City’s most depraved and sexually active red light district. Despite the best efforts of the city’s many shapely super heroines, that den of depravity was growing steadily. Business was booming, and Sugar Town was now acknowledged as Delta City’s number one tourist attraction. Men, and some women, came from all continents and nations to enjoy the legions of beautiful women selling their bodies for fun and profit. The thoughts of all that debauchery openly flaunted, of businesses and customers now openly and gleefully exploited WOMEN for their own perverse pleasures just chapped Ms Americana’s hide. The gorgeous Queen of Justice, Delta City’s premier super heroine could not believe that the mere two block sized red light district of a decade past was now as big as a small town.

“Did you hear that Mama Maven has finally gone legit?” Flag Girl said.

The beautiful pigtailed blonde nineteen year old sidekick sat in the passenger seat of the Americana Mobile as Ms Americana cruised the outskirts of Sugar Town. The hookers were a little deeper within the red light district, but here head shops, nudie bars and liquor stories lined the street. Flag Girl crossed her long, shapely legs, stuffed into bright red stiletto calf boots as she glanced at a new strip club with a “GRAND OPENING” banner above the door.

“About time,” Ms Americana said.

Both women wore red, white and blue costumes. Ms Americana’s strapless bikini costume was legendary, and quite skimpy. Extreme sexiness distracted criminals, who tended to be oversexed MEN. Flag Girl wore a blue top, spangled with white stars and had a large round cutout above her deep cleavage. She wore red and white stripped short shorts, too.

“She started a tour bus service through Sugar Town’s landmarks and famous sites,” Flag Girl said, and grimaced.

“What? What landmarks? What famous sites?”

“Landmarks like The Palace and the House of Joy, and famous sites like the intersection…um…that you were captured, stripped and gang banged on live pay-per-view last year.”

“Great Liberty! That is so wrong!”

“I know, right? Their newest attraction is the light post that Green Spectre and Spectre Girl were found last week, tied up and unmasked,” Flag Girl said. The sidekick’s mentor just gawked at her. “It’s true. People want to see that light post, and take pictures next to it. Then they go over to the House of Joy, and Mistress Tabitha joyfully trots both Green Spectre and Spectre Girl out for the tourists to see. Just to humiliate her captives, I’m sure.”

That reminded Ms Americana. Mistress Tabitha was in the process of looting Axanna Morgan’s fortune, and now had absolute control of Morgan Media, so controlled the press coverage of EVERYTHING. In the last few days super heroines had begun to get really bad press, especially Ms Americana. There was a very real worry that Tabitha could and would turn the common citizens of Delta City against their beloved super heroines. She had to be stopped at all costs.

Flag Girl shrugged, grimacing as she glanced out the window, “And worse…wait. Stop!”

Ms Americana hit the brakes and they screeched to a halt. “What is it?”

“Liquor store robbery,” Flag Girl said. Her beautiful masked face lit up. “Can I take this one alone? Please? Please? You said I’m ready.”

The tall, spectacularly curvaceous super heroine paused as she looked her eager sidekick over. With her golden power belt, Flag Girl was as strong as any five men combined. Robberies were generally easily dealt with, too. Little risk. Little payoff, too. But still.

“I agree,” Ms Americana said. “I’ll go around and cover the back, just in case one or more of them tries to escape.”

She’d taught Flag Girl to stay between the robbers and the door. It’s easier and quicker to stop them from escaping, than it was to chase them down the street. Besides, multiple robbers could always run away in different directions. That left only the back door, which few robbers even thought about since it was hidden from their sight in the back rooms. But occasionally they didn’t make it out the back door.

“Yes! I will make you so proud of me, Ms A,” the buxom super babe said, bouncing up and down in her seat.

“I know you will, Flag Girl,” Ms Americana said, grinning as she shook her head. Was she ever that bubbly and eager to please? Answer: Yes. When she was a teenage sidekick starting out, she was just like Flag Girl. “Get out here, and give me a few minutes to get around back before you go in.”

“Will do, Ms A,” Flag Girl said and got out.

While Ms Americana drove away quickly, Flag Girl moved to a spot she could watch the robbers through the front windows to ensure they didn’t escape or do anything truly evil.

Ms Americana drove as fast as possible, and very quickly entered the dark alley and drove with her lights off to the back of the liquor story. Unfortunately, she found it wasn’t unoccupied. Homeless riffraff had taken up residence and the fools had started a small fire. She shook her head as she looked upon the stupidity of men.

The curvaceous crime-fighter marched straight over to the homeless men. As she approached she counted five men. A middle-aged white man, two relatively young men, and two thirty-something black men. They were all clearly drunk. Sloppy drunk and building their fire dangerously close to a pile of trash.

“You idiots. Do you know how many buildings have been burned down just this month my morons like you, building fires?” the sexy super heroine growled as she approached, gaining all of their full attentions. First thing, their bleary eyes all found and locked onto her bouncing 38Gs. MEN! “I cannot and will not stand by and allow you to burn down another building like this. Stand aside!”

The homeless men squeak like the mice they are, some even dropping their beer or wine bottles as they scrambled on all fours to get out of her way. It infuriated her. If they were too drunk to stand up and step aside, what made them think they could build and control a fire?

“Idiots. Morons. Incompetent…men!” Ms Americana growled as she started stomping on their little fire. It hadn’t really gotten started good, so even in red stiletto boots she was quickly beating it to nothing. “I have no choice. I have to have you arrested for this, boys.”

“No!” one of the drunk black men yelled. “I can’t go back to jail.”

The spectacular beauty looked over at them as she continued to stomp on the spreading ashes. They all looked so disheveled, so drunk, so DIRTY. Some jail time might do them some good. Sober them up. Get them BATHED. And then her right foot came down on something that didn’t feel right.

“What?” Ms Americana said, feeling her right foot roll quickly out from under her. As her baby blues dropped to the problem, she saw she’d stomped down on a discarded beer bottle. Before she could fathom the problem, her foot rolled out from under her, and the sexy super heroine fell hard. The back of her head slammed to the hard concrete, and bounced. “Ugh!”

“Oooooh,” the homeless men all said, wide eyed as they gawked at the legendary super heroine sprawled before them.

The gorgeous Queen of Justice lay writhing on the ground, head spinning and blackness threatening to consume her consciousness. She felt more than saw the five homeless men move up closer and surround her. She tried to speak, but all she could manage were mewling noises.

“I ain’t never seen a real super heroine this close and personal before,” a very elderly sounding voice said. “She sure is pretty. Look at the size of them titties.”

“Six months ago Ms Americana caught me with a fire, and sent me to jail for two months,” the black man who said he couldn’t go back to jail said. Someone kicked her in the ribs. “Bitch.”

“Oooh,” the other men said.

“Look, Oscar, when you kicked her one of her nipples slipped out,” someone said.

“Really?” Oscar said. Ms Americana heard the amusement in his voice, and it really ticked her off. Unfortunately, she was still unable to speak or move any of her limbs. Then she felt someone’s hands at the snap between her titanic tits, and… “Oops, looks like more than a nipple slipped out. Funny how that bra just POPPED off. Hehehe.”

“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” the elderly man started saying. “I ain’t never seen no titties that big and beautiful in all my seventy-seven years.”

“Go ahead and feel her up,” Oscar said. “Ms Americana is out like a light. She’ll never know. Have some fun, Henry.”

The hapless heroine wanted to scream in rage and beat those vile homeless men to bloody pulps when she felt a trembling hand gently cup her left tit. He ran his fingers across her nipple, which to her astonishment was erect and hypersensitive. Indeed, his touch forced a tiny gasp from her full red lips, and her back arched just a bit.

<I can’t believe my body is reacting to THIS!> she thought.

“Don’t be shy, my man,” Oscar said. Ms Americana felt two strong hands grab her tits, squeeze hard, then they caressed and pushed her tits together. “Grab ‘em, and squeeze ‘em, and motorboat these big juicy tits…bbbbrrrrrrrr….hahaha that felt great! You try it, Henry.”

“Okay,” Henry said.

Ms Americana felt Henry knee beside her, grab her tits and start rubbing his heavily whiskered face all over her silky soft breasts. Not a true motorboating, but a luxurious face rubbing all over feminine heaven. But she had little concern about what Henry was doing, because Oscar took that opportunity to start pulling her thongs down her mile long legs, exposing her most intimate and vulnerable spot.

“I haven’t had a shot of leg in over two years,” Oscar said, voice dripping with dark lust. “I’m going for the glory, boys. Watch this.”

The sexy subdued super heroine felt him push her thighs wide, move between them and grab her flaired hips. The other men gasped as she felt his cock head press against her tingling pussy lips. She fought desperately to force her eyes open, to say that all important word; NO! But too late, and she instead let out a long, sensual groan as she felt his cock penetrate her Most Sacred Spot.

“Uuuuuuugggggggggghhhhhhhh.”

“Oh yeah, she enjoyed that,” Oscar said, chuckling. “Lordie, this girl is…ugh…tight. I mean TIGHT. So good.”

“You…must…ugggh,” Ms Americana croaked out, eyes starting to flutter open. “Stop. Too vulnerable. Can’t come. Power…oooooh.”

Due to her physical, emotional and mental vulnerability, the legendary Queen of Justice was unprepared to defend herself against such an insidious assault. The Aphrodite gene that enabled her to be a super heroine also was her greatest weakness. Sex and especially climaxes, made her lose her mind and become a crazy sexy nympho. Climaxes would also depower her, leaving her weak as a kitten, with an extremely malleable mind. A climaxed super heroine was very open to suggestion, and easily brainwashed.

“Uugh. If you…oh…don’t stop…agh…,” Ms Americana gasped out, her back arching and her red gloves hands clutching at Oscar’s midsection as her legs spread even wider. The butterflies in her belly were burning away into liquid heat that signaled the start of her always incredible orgasms. If she didn’t get him to stop right THEN, she was a goner. “You will go…oooh…oooh…to jail.”

“Worth it,” Oscar groaned out, humping her like crazy.

“Oh Goddess, it is too much,” Ms Americana cried, baby blues suddenly wide and staring off into space blankly. She felt her body pass the point of no return. “Forgive me! I…am…not….Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggggggggghhhhhh!”

“Yes! I climaxed Ms Fucking Americana!” Oscar cried.

“You are the man, Oscar,” another called.

Oscar pulled out of the gorgeous super heroine, paused to admire her gawking up at him with the most beautiful incredulous expression on her masked face. Then he grinned with wicked glee, and flipped her over onto her belly. Her shapely ass rose up within thought, and he grabbed hold and guided his hard, wet cock straight into her butt hole.

“Oooooooooooh,” Ms Americana cried, back arching and head rolling way back. She pushed her shoulders up off the ground as she stared off into space, mind numb and body raging with erotic heat and need. “Aaaaaagggggggggggghhhhhhh!”

Henry quickly saw his chance. He shifted to be straight in front of the helpless heroine, pulled out his little used prick, and buried his dirty hands deep into her silky black mane. Then he guided her face down to his waiting cock, and watched his dick slide between her glossy red lips, and slowly vanish.

“Mmmmmmm,” Ms Americana groaned, starting to suck. She understood it was wrong. So wrong. The sexy super heroine didn’t want to suck his rancid, horribly nasty cock, but her body had a mind of its own. Her mouth started working his cock over big time, giving as good as she was getting. “Hmmmm. Uuuggh.” Slurp. Gulp. Sssllurp. “Hhh-mmmmmmm.”

“She’s a noisy little fucker, ain’t she?” Henry said, grinning.

Meanwhile, out front Flag Girl figured it had been plenty of time for Ms Americana to get setup…

“Party time,” Flag Girl said, grinning with glee. Fighting crime was so much fun. She especially liked that initial expression the bad guy’s got when she showed up. Their looks of shock and awe were priceless, and was her primary reward. So she rushed through the door, and struck a sexy super heroine pose. “Halt! I am Flag Girl, and I command you to submit to the law.”

The two robbers slowly turned to regard her. The looks on their faces were priceless. One of them looked to be on the verge of pissing himself. Both were young, maybe her age. One had long brown hair and wore hip-hop clothes, and the other was in jeans and t-shirt, with short blonde hair. As one they turned their pistols on her.

“Go ahead, but know this. My power belt protects me from bullets, and if you fire a weapon while committing a felony then it is automatically a life sentence, without the hope of parole,” she said smugly. They got looks of defeat, and slowly lower their guns. Flag Girl laughed. “You pathetic twerps. I hope you two have been enjoying the night, because it is your last night of freedom.”

Their eyes suddenly lit up. Even the scared shitless store clerk perked up, and pointed. Pointed behind the sexy sidekick.

“Flag Girl, there are three,” he said.

“Three?” she said, and glanced over her shoulder.

A tall, skinny skinhead stood behind her, grinning. Her big blues eyes widened, seeing he was holding his pistol high and back, and then he WHACKED it across her left cheek.

“Agh! Oooh,” Flag Girl cried, spun around to fall to her knees.

The shapely sidekick’s head was spinning out of control. Her arms hung limply at her side and she barely remained on her knees. Even in that state, she knew that to succumb to unconsciousness was to surrender to the bad guy’s tender mercies.

“Damn! You slapped the snot out of that stuck up bitch,” one robber laughed.

“Damn right I did,” he said. He dropped to one knee, and removed Flag Girl’s power belt. “Now little miss Flag Girl is powerless.”

“Now what?” another said.

“We take the money AND the super slut,” he said.

“Take her? Why?”

“Duh. Bad conduct prize,” he said. He lifted her chin, admiring her beautiful masked face. “Besides, after we ride this little whore into sexual bliss, we can sell her sweet ass to a pimp and double our take for the night.”

He held up her power belt, press the barrel of his pistol to it and shot three holes through it from the inside out. The belt sparked a second, and then nothing.

“This won’t help her anymore,” he laughed. He bound her wrists behind her back, and dragged the stunned super heroine to her stiletto heeled feet. “Let’s go. Out the back.”

Flag Girl was half dragged out the back door. She was in no condition to know what was happening, so totally missed her beloved mentor getting double-teamed by homeless men. The robbers stopped to watch a long moment with big smiles.

“What a beautiful sight,” one said.

“I got an idea,” one of the robbers said. “I have a friend that captured a hot college cheerleader, and he traded her for a year of free sex with any whore at the Palace. I bet we can get twice that for Flag Cunt here.”

“Hell yes! And we can continue fucking her all we want, too.”

“Let’s do it!”

“King Pimp’s Palace, here we come,” one said, laughing. He grabbed Flag Girl’s left tit though her top. “And then you will start CUMMING over and over and over, for the rest of your sexy life.”

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Brenda sat in the nude in her master bathroom. She’d just finished a two hour shower, and still felt dirty. Thank the Goddess her captors were a bunch of ignorant homeless men, already three sheets into the wind when they caught her. One of them just wandered off. Two fell asleep, while the other two got into a fist fight over her, and knocked each other out.

The much abused super heroine managed to regain control of her senses, and crawl away with her freedom. She totally forgot to look for and gather up her costume. Fortunately, they never removed the power belt. Unfortunately, she quickly ascertained that Flag Girl had failed, and was taken away by the robbers.

That was a good five hours ago.

“Lydia, forgive me. I failed you,” she whispered. She tried hard to not think of what was happening to her while her sexy protégé was falling in defeat. Those thoughts just fired up her libido, and made her super horny. She so wanted a cock or three inside her, pumping hard and fast, harder, faster, harder…..

“Aaaaaggggggggghh! Stop! Must clear my mind,” she said through clenched teeth. “Cannot allow myself to fall back into that trap. Succumbing to my own dark sexual needs and desires is a one way trip to debauchery. I’m a better woman than that. I am a superior woman!”

There. She felt better. Her spectacular body still ached and lusted, but she had firm control once again. All she had to do was control her own thoughts. Cannot dwell upon ‘setbacks.’

“I have to find Lydia. Flag Girl cannot remain a captive,” she said, voice stronger, starting to take on her Ms Americana command voice. “I will free her, no matter the cost! It is my job, my DUTY as her mentor. I cannot fail.”

Her cell phone began to ring. It was the red, white and blue, star-spangled and stripped Ms Americana cell phone. Few had that number. Hope sprang alive as the thought came to her that Flag Girl escaped captivity and was calling her to get picked up.

“Hello, Ms Americana speaking.”

“I know,” the familiar, and much despised, deep bass of King Pimp came to her. “I got something you want.” She froze. It couldn’t be. Not that. That fate was too terrible to contemplate. If he had Flag Girl, her sidekick’s life just became a sexual HELL. Then she heard King Pimp’s voice away from the phone. “Say hey, babe.”

“Hello?” Flag Girl’s weak voice said. “Who..? Who is this?”

“Flag Girl! Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Hurt her?” King Pimp said, and chuckled. “Hell no. The robbers gave her a big black eye by pistol whipping her or something, but I don’t ‘mark’ my girls as a rule. Unless she needs it, you know what I’m saying?”

“You monster! You vile, foul bastard,” Ms Americana cried, leaping to her bare feet. “If you hurt one hair on her head, I’ll rip your limbs off. I pinch your head off! I’ll…I’ll…Oh Goddess, you’ll feel the awesome WRATH of Ms Americana!”
“I’d rather feel the awesome suction of Ms Americana’s mouth, while wrapped around my big black dick,” King Pimp said way too smugly. “By the way, in case you were wondering. At this very moment your pretty protégé is bound tightly on her knees, her short shorts around those knees and her throat tied to a ring in the floor by just two inches of rope. So her sweet and very vulnerable naked ass is high in the air, and I’m behind her with my dick in hand. If you don’t cooperate, I have nothing to do but FUCK HER STUPID.”

“Great Liberty!”

“And when I finish, Flag Slut will be tamed and claimed, and start work as my newest hooker here at the Palace,” he continued. “Unless….”

Ms Americana froze. The situation was bad enough, and then he threw out that dreaded, “unless.” Unless what? She knew it would be bad, and had a pretty good idea what it would be, too. If so, she had a hard choice to make.

“If you agree to take Flag Twit’s place, I’ll let her go,” King Pimp said. “I’d much rather have the sexy super heroine, than her almost as sexy sidekick. So, what do you say? Shall we do a swap?”

Brenda’s knees gave out. She dropped hard and painfully to kneel in the middle of her bathroom. Her free hand clutched at her painfully tight throat, then slowly slide down over her 38Gs (that were still hypersensitive to touch), across her rock hard abs, and down to cup her bikini waxed pubic mound. King Pimp’s offer had super charged her body’s libido. She could barely breathe. Barely THINK. Her body ached with need and desire, that the hated pimp offered to sate at a terrible price.

“You still there?” he said.

“Y-yes,” she whispered.

“Tell you what, girlfriend,” he said, sounding victorious. “I’ll give you a little time. One hour. In one hour I put Flag Girl to work, and believe me, she will get a LOT of business. Word had gotten out, and the bad boys are lining up for a shot of her super ass. You have that time to make up your mind and present yourself to me, in costume and ready to fuck for my profit.”

“I can’t. I’m a superior woman. I could never be a prostitute,” he whispered. “If I agree and submit to your will, I will betray the trust of all my legions of fans. Do you know how many young women and girls look up to me as a role model?”

“If you don’t replace Flag Girl, then you will be betraying her,” King Pimp said. “It is your job, your duty, to protect her…all all costs.”

“Oh!” Brenda cried. He echoed her own thoughts, and it frightened her. Without thought, she ended the call. “Oh Goddess! What do I do?” She looked down at her own hand, that was rubbing her twat without conscious thought. She forced herself to stop that. “After what happened to me earlier, I am in no state of mind to make such a hard choice. I’m too vulnerable, and weak. My power belt is worse than useless to me. I cannot break Flag Girl out of the heavily defended Palace without my super powers. What do I do?”

Well, the first thing she had to do was get dressed. A naked Brenda wasn’t going to help anyone. So fifteen minutes later, Ms Americana marched across the Americana Cave and got into the Americana Mobile. It was a thirty minute drive to the Palace from Wade Manor. She had that long to make her decision.

“In forty-five minutes either Flag Girl or I will become a common prostitute,” she muttered as she drove out of the Americana Cave.

Her spectacular body was trembling. Was it fear? Or suppressed rage? Or suppressed NEED? No matter what her choice Ms Americana would be disgraced. Her legendary crime fighting career could very well be over. If she replaced her sidekick at the Palace, she would be a whore. Fuck meat. A sex toy for every depraved boy with a little cash to spend. She would be reviled and despised as the weak, pathetic creature she would prove to be. But if she chose to leave Flag Girl to that dreadful fate, the world would see HER, Ms Americana, as an unfaithful woman. Her hallowed name would be MUD. If she abandoned Flag Girl, Ms Americana would be reviled and despised as the weak, pathetic creature that she proved to the world she truly was.

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” Ms Americana said. Rage suddenly consumed her and she pounded the steering wheel as she drove. “How dare that stinking PIMP to make me Flag Girl’s JUDGE! I’m the one who decides her fate. I’m the only one who can sacrifice EVERYTHING and save her. Goddess, how did I get into this untenable position?”

Ms Americana arrived outside the Palace, at the edge of Sugar Town, with fifteen minutes to spare. Would be customers heading towards the main doors of the ten story high brothel turned aside, ducked their heads and hurried away upon seeing her. Probably married men who couldn’t afford to be found in that brothel if she captured the owner and brought in the police.

Leaving the keys in the car, she strode purposely toward the main doors. The doorman opened the door. A first. He usually took off running when she arrived. But he grinned lecherously at her instead.

“Welcome to the Palace, Ms Americana. Enjoy your visit,” he said.

“Pig,” she snarled.

As the door close, she heard him mutter, “I’ll be porking your fat ass before the night’s over.”

“Fight or flight time,” the sexy super heroine muttered upon seeing King Pimp’s main hostess coming her way. Bethany Beavers was a drop dead gorgeous redhead, and former Playboy Playmate of the Year. She usually wore a Playboy Bunny costume, but that night she was decked out in a hot pink corset and matching miniskirt, with matching thigh boots. With Bethany were four big bouncers, all wearing black suits, black ties and white shirts, and boom mikes. “Where’s Flag Girl, Bethany?”

“In a safe place,” Bethany said, smirking. “Are you here to cause mischief, or surrender to the inevitable?”

“I am the mistress of my own fate. Nothing is inevitable.”

“Bullshit,” one of the bouncers sneered. Gunz was six foot ten, muscular and had a shaven head. The sexy super heroine had fought the big African American many times, and always prevailed. Oddly enough, she won all of the battles at the Palace, but never seemed to win the war. They just outlasted her. Always. So frustrating. “You know what you gotta do, Americana. Do the right thing.”

His face filled with lust. She noticed the bulge in his crotch. There was no question what he thought the right thing was for her to do. No doubt replacing Flag Girl at the Palace would quickly result in Gunz getting what he wanted, right between her thighs. The thought of him fucking her sent her libido into overdrive, and she fought hard to keep her face and body from betraying her.

“You haven’t decided yet,” Bethany said. “Wow. Super heroines usually just do something. They rarely over-think anything. The night is not going well for you, huh?”

Ms Americana narrowed her baby blues at the giggling brothel hostess. If she submitted to King Pimp, it would be Bethany arranging most of her trysts with paying customers. Bethany was in charge of ensuring all girls were where they had to be, when they had to be there.

“Here, let me help you,” Bethany said, and took Ms Americana by the hand and led her deeper inside the Palace. The four bouncers fell in behind them. As they moved down the marble floored hall, customers stopped and gawked at the sexy super heroine. Their faces filled with astonishment, and dark animal hunger. “This is what we call the Common Room. It is where the common Joe comes to pick out a pretty girl to fuck. There’s no cover charge for this room, but the girls available are far from our finest.”

The Queen of Justice looked out across the room. Most of the patrons and girls had stopped to stare at her. Others were too engrossed with their unsavory activities to notice the new arrivals. She estimated about seventy or eighty scantily clad woman filled the room with maybe fifty men present. There was a long bar to the right, with some women dancing atop it in nothing but heels. Most of the men looked to be in their thirties or forties, and appeared to be common labor types. The hookers were all attractive, but looked to be in their late twenties to late thirties.

“Disgusting,” Ms Americana said, eyeballing an older man sucking on the silicone tits of a bleach blonde hooker just five feet away.

In truth, the curvaceous super vixen was so horny it hurt. Literally. Her voluptuous body ached as she looked at all that sexual misconduct. And the potential for debauchery was enormous, and called to her in the most disturbing way. Sweat was starting to break out all over her body, though she was more concerned with how hard it was getting to breath. Heart racing, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“It’s just a job, Ms Americana,” Bethany said, stroking the sexy super heroine’s silky soft black hair. Despite herself, Ms Americana thought Bethany’s strokes felt good. Too good. Then the sexy hostess slid her delicate hand down to the fasteners on the back of Ms Americana’s power belt. “It’s actually much easier than it looks. Shall you start in here?”

“No,” Ms Americana said, placing her red gloved hand over Bethany’s, then pulling that hand from her belt.

“Really? You’re panting and your nipples are rock hard,” Bethany said, with the most annoying smirk.

“You may not understand the concept, but I have my PRIDE, my DIGNITY, my REPUTATION to consider,” Ms Americana said, striking an arrogant super heroine pose. The room grew quieter as more and more people stopped to watch and listen. “How can I have any self-respect if I submit to being….like that?”

“So you’d rather see Flag Girl whore herself off,” Bethany said, shaking her head woefully.

“Are you judging me? YOU judging ME?”

“No, you are judging Flag Girl, and deciding she is LESS worthy than you,” Bethany said, sounding very disgusted in Ms Americana. Oddly enough, that hurt the sexy super heroine’s feelings. “Where will your all important self-respect come from after you toss Flag Girl to the wolves? What will happen to your vaulted reputation? On what will you base your overweening pride?”

Ms Americana gasped with every pointed, hard hitting jab. Bethany turned on the costumed crime fighter and moved towards her, forcing Ms Americana to back away until she was pressed back against the wall.

Bethany reached down and ran her fingers across the shiny golden power belt, then stroked Ms Americana’s pubic mound through her thong with the back of her fingers. The sexy super heroine gasped, but didn’t knock her hand away. Bethany’s big blue eyes filled with victorious glee, and her full glossy pink lips curled into a mischievous smile. Then she took Ms Americana’s hand again, and pulled her slowly to the middle of the common room.

“Hey, boys, look who came to play with you,” Bethany purred. “Ms Americana is thinking about joining the staff. Why don’t you show her how much you’d like her on our team?”

“What? Wait? I haven’t…oh,” Ms Americana said. A hand cupped her right butt cheek. Someone ran his fingers through her black hair. Another cupped her right tit, then men started pressing up against her. “Please. I’m vulnerable. Don’t do this to me.”

“Let me show you something,” Bethany said, taking her by the hand again and pulling Ms Americana out of that crowd of horny men.

The Queen of Justice was led back out into the hallway, and to the elevators. One of the bouncers had an elevator waiting. They rode it up to the 6^th floor. Stepping out, Ms Americana scowled up at the sign above the door.

“Welcome to Super Heroine Hell”

The walls were covered with erotic paintings of captured super heroines doing all sorts of kinky sex acts. On one side was a wall of photos, with names and other information about all the current super heroine whores in residence. She noticed one said “Ms Americana: Pending.”

“Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” Ms Americana said, miffed.

“Optimistic,” Bethany said, grinning. “I trust that you will do the right thing. Now come, let me show you one more thing.”

Ms Americana was led into the 6^th floor super heroine area. Lots more security there, too. There were a good twenty-five customers, but only about twelve enslaved super heroines. Most were in their late thirties, having been lost many years earlier. Most of the younger super heroines were from other cities, but a few lost sidekicks were present. In fact, Ms Americana’s sidekick prior to Flag Girl was there: Liberty Girl.

Liberty Girl looked at her former mentor with cold eyes, “About time you got here.”

The stunned super heroine just gawked at Liberty Girl. The perky young teenage blonde was a hard-eyed whore of the first order. Her former costume was reduced to a sleazy, skimpier version meant to lure horny men into her waiting bed. Bethany, though, wasn’t in any mood for a reunion. She continued to pull Ms Americana through that red and gold decorated parlor, and into one of many doors, and into a long, narrow hallway. It was dark and lined my many doors.

As they passed the doors, Ms Americana saw that a life-sized poster of a sexy super heroine covered them. Presumably the super heroine working in that room. On the wall next to the door was the girl’s stats, bio and work schedule. And some erotic photos of her in action.

“We’re here,” Bethany said, indicating a door at the end of the hallway.

“Oh!” Ms Americana gasped. “My room?”

A poster of Ms Americana covered the door, from tiara’ed head to stiletto booted feet, and all her dangerous curves in-between. It was a live action shot, and she remembered that day. It was just ten days back. But it was a great picture and she had to admit, she looked very hot and sexy in it. But across the poster was a banner that said: IN NEGOTIATIONS.

Bethany opened the door, and the trembling super heroine peeked inside. There was a double bed with a black fur cover. A sink and toilet bowl were in one corner, and a small wardrobe next to them. No windows, and the walls and ceiling were covered in drawings of Ms Americana having wicked, kinky sex with a variety of men and women, of all races.

“Great Liberty!”

Ms Americana turned and ran. She ran all the way to the parlor, and found King Pimp waiting, with Flag Girl on leash and collar behind him. She was wild-eyed and ball-gagged. The discombobulated super heroine froze.

“Wow, you sure can run in those stilettos, can’t you?” Bethany said, huffing and puffing as she caught up. She looked at King Pimp. “I thinks she’s ready to make her decision.”

“No. I need time.”

“Time is up, Ms Americana,” King Pimp said. “Make your decision. Is Flag Girl to be a sex slave? Or will you willingly join us as a hooker, and set Flag Girl free?”

Flag Girl looked at her with big blue eyes, filled with fear and dread. How could she ever consider betraying that young innocence? Ms Americana dropped her gaze to the floor, her face burning with shame and humiliation.

“Please. Let her go,” Ms Americana said with a trembling voice. “I will be your whore.”

“Word of honor?” Bethany said viciously. “Give King Pimp your most sacred word of honor that you will OBEY him, and never attempt to escape your fate as his whore.”

“I-I-I swear,” Ms Americana said and choked on her words. With lower lip trembling, she lifted big baby blues eyes full of tears to that most feared of all pimps. “I give you my sacred word of honor, my oath, my vow of absolute fealty and obedience. I am yours to use and abuse, and I further swear to never so much as contemplate escape. I am your woman, your w-whore, now and forevermore.”

“Good enough,” King Pimp said, grinning triumphantly. He reached back, removed the leash from Flag Girl’s collar. “Take her away. You are free to go, Flag Girl. You are free to make your own choices in this world, thanks to Ms Americana’s noble sacrifice.”

Two bouncers each took an arm and half dragged the sexy sidekick away.

“The key’s in the car,” Ms Americana said. “Outside the front door.”

They waited until the elevator doors closed, and it dinged. Then Ms Americana dropped to her knees.

“What are your orders, master?”

“Whore yourself for me,” King Pimp said. “Pick a patron, take him to your room and fuck him for money. Then bring that money to me.”

“One hundred dollars,” Bethany said in her ear. “Get it up front.”

“Please. I’m not a fool. I know how this job works,” Ms Americana said, rose to her red booted feet and looked around. Striking a sexy super heroine pose, she said, “So, who wants a ‘date’ with me?”

Every patron in that room rushed her. In the end, Ms Americana picked the biggest stud of them all. If she was about to become a bona fide prostitute, at least she could enjoy her first trick. He was tall and blonde, and looked like a god.

“You can come with me,” she said, scratching him under the chin.

Ms Americana led him to her room, pulled off the “IN NEGOTIATIONS” banner and closed the door. He was half undressed by that time.

“Eager beaver, huh?”

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first day I saw a news broadcast of your exploits,” he said, handing her five twenty dollar bills. “What do I get for a hundred?”

“Standard suck and fuck,” she said. “I suck you off until you are ready, then you mount up and hump me until you come. If you want more, it’ll cost extra.”

He wanted extra. Around the world extra. So she negotiated another fifty dollars for each fifteen minutes. He told her what he wanted and she shrugged. Nothing too disgusting. Once he was completely undressed, the sexy super heroine dropped to her knees before him. She was still in full costume, including her mask and power belt.

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned, sucking his cock all the way down. Her body practically exploded the second her lips touched his cock. She gasped and panted, but still managed take his whole cock in. Then she bobbed her head a moment, before started to run her tongue up and down his hard shaft. “Goddess, how I love the taste of cock. So shameful.”

“Less talking, more sucking,” he said.

Slurp! Gulp. “Mmmmmmmmm.”

The vanquished vigilante licked and sucked his cock and balls for a few minutes, until she felt him tensing up. Ready to explode. So she smiled up at him, locked her baby blues with his eyes as she smothered his dick with her fat tits and started titty fucking him, and opened wide. He came, shooting most of the creamy white cum into her waiting mouth, and the rest across her beautiful masked face and drenching her big tits with cum. Then she stood up, turned around and bent over to grab her ankles.

“Oh yeah,” he said, and pushed into her sopping wet pussy.

“Uuuggggh,” Ms Americana groaned. “So big….so big…so…so…ooooh.”

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Too much,” she said, startled by how fast she was reaching the point of no return. Truth was, her body didn’t have the time to recover from her last setback behind the liquor store. King Pimp began his blackmail program against her before she recovered, and that just amped up her libido. Bethany didn’t help her either, so she was way too aroused by the time her first customer penetrated her. “I can’t believe I’m…go...ing….to…..Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee! Great Liberty! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“YES!” he cried. “I climaxed Ms Americana. I may have to become a regular of yours.” He pulled out, grabbed a fistful of silky black hair, and thrust up her butt hole. “Now take THAT!”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee! Too big! Oh Goddess, you…ugh…you are tearing….ugh…me in half….oooooooh, yes,” she gasped out.

He was pounding her ass so hard she was thrust forward. She took a tiny step. He followed, pounding away with gusto. She took another step, just to keep from being pushed over. The big blonde stud followed, and continued to push her across the small room until she was pressed up against the door, clawing at it with red gloved hands as she gasped, panted and groaned.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!”

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Click. Click. Clicky-click-click.

Ms Americana slowly walked down the long hallway. It was dimly lit, the dark tiles invisible beneath her red stiletto boots. She was in full costume, as she always was when going out to pick up another john.

“How late are we open?” she said, bone weary for untold hours of one man after another. She stopped counting after twenty johns.

The oversexed super heroine soon stepped out into the super heroine lounge. The room was full, but there were no more patrons to please. Everyone just looked at her and grinned.

“Let me guess. After party?”

“More like after orgy,” King Pimp said. He leered at her, looking his newest prize up and down with lusty eagerness. “I get to fuck you first. Stand at attention, and do not break position until I say to.”

Ms Americana stood in the middle of the super heroine parlor, hands rigidly at her sides, chest thrust out, tummy sucked in, knees locked. Her head was held high and proud. Her pimp and master stood up, and walked around her. He grinned as he looked every square inch of her spectacular 38G-25-39 body over with relish. It was all his, to use as he pleased.

“What a body,” he said, starting to run his hands up and down her belly and back, over her shapely butt and all around her titanic tits. He explored every spectacular curve, every nook and cranny. He combed his fingers through her long, silky, fragrant black hair, admired her full, glossy lips. And claimed those lips first. “MMmmmm.”

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” Ms Americana groaned, savoring the kiss almost as much as her pimp. After a long moment of their lips slip-sliding all over each other, she pushed her tongue up into his mouth and began an erotic tongue tango. “Hmmmmm.”

As they kissed, King Pimp’s hands continued to explore her hot, needy body. As he touched, squeezed and caresses her most intimate and sensitive places, she jumped, groaned and grunted. Too soon his hand found the fastener between her 38Gs, and her top came off.

“Funny, how everyone goes after my tits first thing,” Ms Americana said, grinning up at King Pimp. She dropped her gaze bashfully, looked at her own naked tits, and cut her eyes back up. “Do they meet with your approval, master?”

“Oh, yes, and then some,” he said, cupping one monster tit and testing its weight. “Big’uns, boys. Really big, juicy super tits.”

Everyone in the room nodded and chuckled, their eyes filled with wicked glee and anticipation. Ms Americana had a sinking feeling she’d have to sexually please each and over person in that room before her night was over. It both scared her and excited her.

Her pimp took a good fifteen minutes to explore and enjoy her perfect pair. Oddly enough, to her anyway, he motorboated her three times. Somehow she never thought of him as the kind of man that would motorboat a pair of tits. But soon his hands left her tits, and began to explore her shapely hips and butt. Her thong was pulled down her shapely legs, and tossed atop her top. He left her now useless power belt on her, as he led her back to his chair.

The big, black pimp dropped his pants, sat down and grinned at his newest super heroine hooker. Ms Americana lifted one perfectly plugged black brow in a knowing smirk, and slowly impaled herself upon his erect cock. It was long and thick and pushed her to the limits, even after a long night hooking.

Ms Americana’s head rolled back as she sighed gustily. “Oh, Goddess, that hits the spot. Oooooooooh.”

Soon she was bouncing up and down, sliding up and down his shaft. She gasped and grunted with every stroke in and out. Her red gloved hands clutched at his broad shoulders, her 38Gs bounced and jostled, and her long, silky black hair also bounced and tossed around.

“Soooo good. Oooh…Sooooo good. Oh My Goddess. I can’t believe it feels….Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!” she cried, surprised how fast the climax claimed her.

“Tell me you love me,” King Pimp said.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love….you…Aaaaaaaaagggggggggghhhhhh!”

He noticed that climax left her breathless and baby blues glazed over. King Pimp knew it was time. He had brainwashed too many super heroines to not know how they reacted, how to manipulate them, how to mold them into the perfect hookers. Super hookers.

“You love me,” he said, seeing her body subtly change. His words now had enormous impact. “Love me. Tell me you love me, over and over and over.”

“I love you,” Ms Americana said breathlessly, still bouncing up and down his cock. “I love you. I love you. I ……Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggghhhh. I love you. I love you…Uuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggggghhhhhhh….oh Goddess, I love you so much. I love you, master. I love you so….Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggghhhhhhh.”

Sugar Town’s legendary pimp smiled with wicked glee as Delta City’s beloved, premier super heroine quickly and profoundly succumbed to his brainwashing. She was helpless to defend her fragile mind while climaxing, and he would not let her go until she was utterly and complete HIS.

“Now, my little piece of cock candy, what is your REAL name?”

She froze with a deer in headlights look as she gazed into his face. “Brenda Wade. I am Brenda Wade, master.”

He reached up and pulled off her mask. “Yes you are.”

The room was utterly silent. It was one thing to capture and sexually enslave a stuck up super heroine, but one rarely got your greedy hands on a bona fide billionairess. On top of that, Brenda Wade was as hated and feared in Sugar Town as any super heroine.

“Is this Christmas or something?” King Pimp said, and laughed victoriously. “We’ve hit the mother lode, boys and girls. Brenda, who do you love?”

“I love you, master.”

“Yes you do,” he said, and kissed her hard and possessively.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

While Ms Americana/Brenda Wade “entertained” the Palace staff down on the 6^th Floor, King Pimp retired alone to his penthouse atop the huge brothel. But someone was waiting for him.

“How did I do, master,” she said as she removed her top, and short-shorts.

“Very good, slave slut,” King Pimp said, sprawled out on his king-sized bed.

The beautiful blonde nineteen year old crawled onto the bed, and straddled her master. She bit her lower lip as she took hold of the best dick ever. The cock that tamed and claimed her. The reason she would be his forever and ever. Then she rose up, shifted forward and slowing impaled herself on that long, fat black cock.

Flag Girl sighed gustily as she slowly side down his shaft, feeling him push her so wide it hurt. Filling her up. Feeling too good to be true.

“Did Ms Americana live up to her end of the bargain?”

“She did, and then some,” he said. “One thing I can say for your former mentor, Lydia, she will not accept being second best at anything. Including being a whore.”

“I told you she’d react that way,” Lydia said, removing her mask and tossing it aside. “But you’ll see that I’m just as competitive, and will give Brenda a good run for her money in the prostituting game. We will both make you very proud, and very rich.”

King Pimp grinned. He knew that. Every super heroine had that trait in common. A couple new girls like Ms Americana and Flag Girl would bring out the competitive sides of all the older super heroine hookers, too.

Ms Americana would be royally pissed when she found out he had used the time waiting for her to arrive, to fuck Flag Girl into submission, tame her, and then brainwash her via multiple climaxes. Unfortunately for the former Queen of Justice, she was also pretty much tamed and brainwashed. She wouldn’t be going anywhere.

THE END