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

Ms Americana is the creation of Mr. X, while Lady Jihad is my own creation.

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

MS AMERICANA: LADY JIHAD

By Dark One

Ms Americana stepped out of the shower. She learned a new appreciation for showers since her arrival in Baghdad a month back. It was especially hard to keep her flowing dark hair clean and shiny. Dust was everywhere, and on everything. She showered twice a day, at least.

After toweling off, she looked herself over in the full-length mirror. She was getting a very nice tan, which made the tender flesh under her costume -- breasts and loins -- stand out in their milky whiteness. Flag Girl would be so jealous when she returned from her ninety day voluntary "deployment" to help the US Army ferret out Saddam's last remaining cohorts.

The phone rang by the time she finished applying her make up. It was her "handler." Colonel Crookshank had good news. He'd gotten several good tips for her to investigate. Not something she relished in Baghdad. Tall American super heroines stood out when walking the streets of Baghdad, especially when she wore a star spangled bikini and mask, red calf boots with tall stiletto heels, red gloves, golden belt and tiara. Everyone liked to ogle her, but no one wanted to talk to the "American harlot."

"Harlot, my ass," she growled as she stuffed her 44DDs into her skimpy bikini top. "I'll show them. They have no respect for superior women in this country."

Soon she was standing in the Division S-3, military intelligence, office. Colonel Crookshank handed over a pile of tips. Her choice of which to investigate. She was pretty much on her own, by her own request. After the first month of going out with a platoon or more of troops in tow, she decided she needed to work alone. Her talents and abilities were wasted otherwise.

Ms Americana found an empty desk, sat down and crossed her long, long legs. She heard the room go silent when she did. Of course, whenever she did anything, or moved so much as an inch, every set of male eyes locked on her. It was annoying, but she did kind of like it. Those GI's were so cute in their desert combat BDUs -- Battle Dress Uniforms.

"Thank you, Colonel," she said and length. "I think I have enough for today."

With that, Ms Americana set out for her first full day working alone. The Generals and Colonels wanted her completely under their control, but she got special permission from the Commander-in-Chief to strike out on her own. Now, instead of her being one of many, they were there to support her.

The first two tips she checked were wasted efforts. One was just a disgruntled employee trying to get his obnoxious boss arrested and shot. After meeting the boss, she thought he should be arrested too, but for purely personal reasons. The bastard never once looked above her tits. And the second was another man with a grudge, but this time against a neighbor whose dog knocked up his dog and refused to help pay for the puppies.

"Pretty American! Pretty American," a young man called, hurrying toward her. He was carrying a black robe of the kind very religious local women wore to almost completely cover themselves. "You scandalize us. Bad to walk around like that."

He stepped close and tried to put the heavy robes upon her shoulders. She was about to push him away when he began whispering frantically.

"Listen. I know who you are, Ms Americana. An evil person from Saddam's regime is digging up weapons to ambush the American's tomorrow morning," he whispered "Lady Jihad is very bad. Very dangerous. She killed my father and brother just before the war. You must stop her."

"Where?" she whispered. She then pushed the robes away and said more loudly. "Thank you, citizen, but that won't be necessary."

"Oh, but it is," he insisted just as loudly. Then in a whisper, "Take the next street right. Go three streets, then turn right again. The weapons are buried in the courtyard of the fifth house on the left."

"Thank you," she whispered, then, "No. I am fine as I am. But thank you anyway."

He looked at her in exaggerated astonishment, then threw up his hands and started speaking Arabic. People all around them nodded ruefully. Then he turned and marched away.

What luck! A real time tip! she thought with excitement. That couldn't have happened if I was still saddled with a whole platoon of steely-eyed soldiers.

It was hard not to hurry. Ms Americana didn't want anyone to suspect that she received a tip from the man. He could be punished terribly by Saddam loyalists. At the next intersection, she paused and appeared to consider all three options. Finally, she almost reluctantly turned right. She moved down that street confidently and quickly, looking everyone and everything over closely. Everyone cleared out of her way.

On the third street over, she appeared to pass it, then change her mind, as if something down that street caught her attention. She moved down the street quickly, eyes and ears alert for anything. She had to consider it could be a trap, as well. But her instincts said otherwise.

Just as she reached the forth house, she heard the sound of digging coming over the high wall of the fifth house on the left. Just like the informant said. She paused to cock her head this way and that, as if she wasn't sure of what she was hearing or where it was coming from. The locals saw her demeanor change and new trouble when they saw it. The street cleared within seconds.

Realizing the Saddam loyalists inside could be tipped off now as well, she rushed straight at the wall and leaped high. Her hands hit the top of the wall, and she pushed herself over. Ms Americana landed with a thud in the middle of the small courtyard, amid half a dozen men digging up crates.

"What do we have here?" Ms Americana said. She reached down and pulled the top off a crate with the screech of nails, exposing the contents and impressing the men with her strength. "Oh, my, I believe you've found AK47 assault rifles. You are all under arrest. Drop your shovels and surrender."

"Stand your ground," a female voice said. A tall, dark woman in tight tan fatigues, white veil, and a white clothe headdress with black agal holding it tight around her forehead stepped out of the small mud brick house. "It is only a mere woman. Ms Americana, to be exact. I wondered when we'd meet."

"Lady Jihad, I presume," Ms Americana said, blue eyes flashing.

"Americans presume too much, but this time you are correct," Lady Jihad said, her black eyes glaring at Ms Americana over the veil. "Be careful, men. She is stronger and faster than she looks. But with Allahs blessing, she will quickly fall to us."

Suddenly, the six men with shovels all rushed Ms Americana. She didn't hesitate, but dashed straight at the closest man. He swung his shovel overhead at her head, which she caught in one hand and twisted out of his grasp. A second later, a loud "thwang!" filled the air as she slammed the shovel against the side of his head. He dropped like a sack of sand.

She blocked the next two men's shovels with one fierce stroke with her shovel, then on the back swing whacked them both in the knees. Both those men went down with cries of agony.

"Three down and three to go, Lady Jihad," Ms Americana taunted. "Let's end this now. Surrender and it'll go easier on you all."

"Attack from three sides, all at once, you fools," Lady Jihad screamed angrily. "Don't make it easy for her. She can only fight one at a time."

The remaining men circled her as commanded and came at her with hate filled eyes. Ms Americana knew Lady Jihad was correct, so waited until the last second and leapt as high and far as she could, doing a flip in midair and landing between the confused men and their leader.

"Surprise," Ms Americana said, and swung the shovel at Lady Jihad's head.

The Iraqi super villainess ducked the brutal blow, and rushed to her left. Ms Americana tried to pursue, but the three men cut her off. So she changed direction and tried to go around them in the other direction. They darted back and forth for several minutes, until she grew wearing of that childish game and stopped. The courtyard wall was to her back again, for she didn't trust the inky depths of the mud brick house.

"She is America's most beloved super heroine, a shining beacon of their arrogance and pride," Lady Jihad said venomously. "And she is a wicked sinner. A harlot and a whore. Stone her!"

Before Ms Americana knew what was happening, Lady Jihad and the three remaining men dropped their shovels and picked up rocks. In seconds they were throwing brutal stones at her. And they were damn good aims, too.

"Hey!" Ms Americana shouted. "Stop it! I order you to -- Ugh."

The stone Lady Jihad threw ricocheted off her tiara. But it was thrown by a superior woman and left her dazed. Another stone hit her in the knee next, dropping her to one knee. Then one bounced off her shoulder. Another hit her in the side.

"Stop," she gasped weakly.

The brutal stones rained unceasingly, hitting over and over with fierce force. She lost count and was soon in a frantic daze, feeling herself sinking into despair and unconsciousness. The vision of being left helpless at their unmerciful feet inspired her to regain her feet, then turn and make an escape attempt.

Light and darkness erupted when a final rock hit her hard in the temple. Ms Americana dropped face first into the rocky, sandy soil. A second later, one of the men brought the back of a shovel down on her lower back, then they all started kicking her until she slipped into blackness.

When she woke, Ms Americana found her wrists bound behind her back and her power belt gone. Her mouth was filled with rank cloth, with a bit of rope holding it in place and tied off behind her head. When she tried to move, she discovered her legs were bound as well, just above her knees and at her ankles.

"Ah, you are awake. Good," Lady Jihad said, sounding too pleased with herself.

"Mgghhhmmm," Ms Americana said.

"Exactly," Lady Jihad said, grinning down at her. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

She laughed and held up Ms Americana's power belt.

"A souvenir," she said. "By the way, I tested it and it works on me. My power belt was lost at the beginning of the war. Thank you for this valuable gift."

With that, Lady Jihad lifted her fatigue shirt and fastened Ms Americana's power belt around her own waist. Ms Americana's blue eyes flashed in rage and she struggled and screamed into her gag. All to no avail.

"Ugghhhh!"

Lady Jihad reached down and lifted Ms Americana up easily, displaying her super human strength now that she wore Ms Americana's power belt. She threw the American super heroine across the courtyard, to smash into the mud brick wall. Ms Americana was left dazed and gasping for breath loudly through her woefully inadequate nose.

"Put her in the truck," Lady Jihad said.

Her six men hurried over and began wrapping Ms Americana in dirty brown blankets. She was completely cocooned and carried out of the courtyard. Placed in the back of a panel truck, she heard the men pile in behind her then the overhead door was pulled shut and locked. Seconds later, the truck began to move. As she suspected, once away from Lady Jihad's oversight, the men became pigs.

Soon they had her out of the blankets, and then just as quickly out of her costume, leaving her in just tiara, mask, gloves and boots. Like most pigs, of any country, they went straight for her 44DDs. Ms Americana couldn't believe it. They were tossing her from man to man, so each could take his turn fondling and sucking on her tits and fingering her twat. They thought it extremely funny how wet she was getting from their abuse. The names "harlot," "whore" and "slutty American" kept coming up.

All Ms Americana could do was writhe and scream into her gag. Soon, they tired of molesting her and bent her over a crate of assault rifles. One of them started fingering her twat with his dirty fingers, while the rest laughed at her frantic, frightened reaction. Very quickly, his finger slipped past her pussy lips and deep into her vagina.

"Uuuhhggg!"

"The dirty American whore slut likes it, Achmed," Tariq said.

Achmed continued to finger fuck her. Very quickly, he found her G-spot. Her bucking and muffled screams doubled, then tripled. Nothing she could do would stop him. Without her power belt she was just a normal woman, who just happened to be in splendid physical shape. But bound and gagged, Ms Americana was helpless to stop their debauchery.

Soon, the inevitable happened. Achmed tired of toying with her. His pants dropped and he moved in behind her. She felt his hard, sticky dick press against her labia. Then he pushed forward and pierced her virtue.

"Take this, American super slut," he snarled and rammed his cock into her pussy.

"Ugh!"

"I thought you'd enjoy that, Ms Americana Whore Slut," he said. "This is regular happy time for you, isn't that right, decadent American slut?"

"Mmmm. Ugh! Ugh! Hgghh!"

"Yes, she likes it, Achmed," Tariq said, grinning wolfishly. "I'm next."

They were all being jostled in the back of the truck, as it sped through the streets of Baghdad. Meanwhile, Achmed hammered her twat with his small but effective cock. All the while, the other men were fondling her tits and pinching her nipples to extreme sensitivity and hardness. Ms Americana was quickly all a-tingle from the use and abuse. She could feel Achmed building to climax as well. His fucking was getting faster and more frantic.

"Oiiyy," he cried, releasing his hot seed deep inside his captive. "Take that, harlot whore."

Tariq quickly replaced Achmed, who moved up beside her face. While Tariq mounted her aching cunt with his much larger cock, Achmed started rubbing his sticky dick all over her face. Finally, he used her long dark hair to wipe the cum-sticky dick clean. But she had little thought for what Achmed was doing, for Tariq's massive cock was rocking her world. She couldn't believe it.

I have to fight him, Ms Americana thought desperately. Ohhh, but it is so hard.

Within minutes, Ms Americana couldn't think of anything but that massive, long cock ramming in and out of her hot, wet cunt. Every stroke was ecstasy, pushing her closer and closer to ruin. Suddenly, the tingle changed into that all too familiar rush to climax.

"I think she's coming," Tariq shouted as her pussy tightened involuntarily on his cock.

He redoubled his efforts, trying to send her over the edge. Ms Americana tried with all her might to deprive him of that victory over her, but soon realized she was weakening fast.

I can't climax! I can't! I'll lose any chance of regaining my strength if I cum, she thought frantically. But the thought pushed her body past that point of no return, as the sexual tingle turned into a hot rush to climax. She bucked and screamed, trying to get him to stop, but Tariq was relentless. Sweet Liberty, don't let them take away my pent up sexual frustration. It is my strength.

Too late. Tariq shoved his dick home and held it, then came his hot jizm in torrents deep inside her body. Ms Americana lost it then. Her body convulsed and her back arched, as wave upon wave of orgasm rolled through her from her toes to her head, then back again. Several times.

"You did it, Tariq!" the next man said.

Ms Americana panted through her nose beneath them. Her face burned with humiliation. She could not believe she was giving the enemy such pleasure, while they robbed her of her dignity, pride and strength. And worse, she couldn't believe her shapely body was betraying her so soundly, enjoying the use and abuse so thoroughly.

"Your turn, Muhamad," Tariq said, breathing heavily and smiling with satisfaction.

Ms Americana steeled herself for the next man. Her body was weak now. Her resolve in shambles. Her once formidable defenses cracked and shaken. She wasn't sure she'd survive emotionally intact after all six men had their way with her. She feared Lady Jihad would find her a broken woman by the time they arrived.

Then he did the unexpected. Muhamad used two fingers to rub her aching pussy, then spread the lubricating juices up and over her anus. He pushed a finger into her ass hole, then two fingers. She shook her head and writhed, but couldn't stop him. Wild-eyed, she felt him stretch her butt hole even more with three fingers. And once her ass adjusted to three fingers, he moved in close. She felt his thighs press against hers, then felt his swollen rod press against her pussy.

Muhamad thrust his cock into her pussy, and proved he was almost as well hung as Tariq. After two minutes, he pulled out and pressed the engorged dickhead against her ass hole. Then with some effort, he pushed through.

"Uhgh! Hyggh!" she screamed into her gag.

Muhamad started with small strokes, that quickly thrust deeper and deeper. The pain was incredible. The enormity of the violation was staggering. Ms Americana swooned, but Achmed slapped her back to full consciousness. They wanted her to "enjoy" the entire encounter.

"This is for the Iraqi people, Ms Americana," Muhamad gasped out in her ear. "You fucked us on the battlefield. So I fuck you up the ass."

An orgasm ripped through her body and soul. Ms Americana could only hang her head and try to breathe through her woefully inadequate nose. Her breathing was loud and harsh, as sweat rolled off her face, body and hanging tits.

Another orgasm rolled through, stamping their victory on her heart.

They drove for hours. Six Saddam loyalists fucked the world's premier super heroine, long and hard, over and over again. Six Iraqi terrorists sated their base, animal lusts on America's favorite daughter. Long before the trip ended, the mighty Ms Americana forgot her name and began answering to slut and harlot. After they all had their way with her the first time, they removed the gag and enjoyed another orifice. To her utter shame and humiliation, and their wicked glee, Ms Americana gave head like they never had it before, and sucked them with the same enthusiasm in which they fucked her.

When the truck stopped and the back door opened, Ms Americana was on her knees, giving Achmed deep throat while Muhamad fucked her ass hole for their third time. Her once shiny dark hair was dull and stuck to her head and neck from sweat and cum. Jizm dripped down her hanging tits and glistened on her lower back, rump, and inner thighs.

"I've never seen you look lovelier, Ms Americana," Lady Jihad said, black eyes a-sparkle. For a second, Ms Americana saw Lady Jihad's sexual frustration shine through, then she got control of herself and only arrogance showed in her black eyes. "Cum becomes you, harlot." She glanced at the men, with a bit of distaste, "I assume she enjoyed herself?"

"Immensely," Achmed said. "It is truly shameful for a woman to enjoy such wickedness so much. She should be stoned to death!"

"Perhaps," Lady Jihad said. Then eyes growing cold, "Take her inside. The men in there know what to do with her."

"You'll live to pay for this," Ms Americana said, glaring at Lady Jihad.

Pulled out of the panel truck, Ms Americana looked around to get her bearings. Unfortunately, it was full night and a moonless night at that. From what little she could see, they were in the country, probably at a farm. There were no lights to be seen in any direction outside of the small compound of mud brick buildings and a ten-foot mud brink wall.

There were more men in the compound. About two dozen, and all were armed to the teeth. One and all gazed upon her with loathing. She was half dragged, half carried into the largest of the mud brick buildings. Inside, a kerosene lantern burned, lighting a table, some chairs and a thick post that helped hold up the center of the roof. As expected, Ms Americana found herself being lashed to that center post, facing the table and chairs.

By the time she was secured to the post, Lady Jihad entered and placed her costume on the table. Then five men entered, all reeking of ruthless authority and wearing Iraqi army fatigues and carrying AK47 assault rifles and pistols. They looked her over with interest, then turned to Lady Jihad.

"Welcome Generals," Lady Jihad said, saluting sharply. "As my communication said, I have captured the legendary Ms Americana. Her costume is on the table if you care to examine it."

When they moved over to examine her up close, Ms Americana saw that two of the men were Iraqi Generals, the rest bodyguards. The Generals each had to take time to examine her breasts "hands on."

"She is quite a wanton, Generals," Lady Jihad said. "She wore out six of my strongest men on the trip from Baghdad, and she still looks fresh and ready to take on another twenty men."

"I bet she could," one of the General sneered. "Americans are all hedonistic heretics."

"Why bring her here?" the other General said. "You should've put a bullet in her head and dropped her carcass on the steps of the Americans' door as a warning."

"We can still do that, General," Lady Jihad said, smiling wickedly. "But her capture is a great propaganda victory and tool for us. Imagine how disillusioned the American soldiers and people will be when we deliver videotape of their beloved Ms Americana being held captive, of her being molested and raped by strong Iraqi men. And just as importantly, imagine the swell of pride our loyal fighters will enjoy seeing that same video."

The Generals nodded with dark smiles.

"I don't know why we ever question your motives and plans, Lady Jihad," one said. "The Baathist cause is always first and foremost on your mind."

"Thank you, General. I live to serve the cause."

The walked outside and left Ms Americana alone for the time being. While the Iraqis here patting each other on the back, she'd been doing an emotional and physical inventory of her strengths, weaknesses and injuries. The stoning and hours long gang rape had left her weak and in considerable pain. But she was in remarkably good shape, considering. Unfortunately, they'd raped all her sexual frustration out of her, so the power belt was useless even if she got it back.

"And I will get it back, too," she vowed, blue eyes flashing. "And they will all pay for what they did to me."

Too soon, Lady Jihad returned with Achmed and Tariq. First thing, they ball-gagged Ms Americana. Then they opened a case in one corner. Taking out the various components, they stared assembling something on the floor between her spread legs. It took several minutes, but she soon realized what it was.

"Getting scared?" Lady Jihad said, smirking. "You should be. My bitch tamer will soften you up nicely. By morning you will be very compliant and malleable. Then we'll start making the video."

The bitch tamer was a set of electric dildos, on a hydraulic contraption. Each dildo was ten inches long, and at least two inches thick. Knobs of the sort to drive women wild covered both. There was a nozzle between the two monster dildos that she couldn't figure out. But the fact both dildos were attached to electric cords worried her.

More cables ran from the bitch tamer to a briefcase like control panel. While the men built the bitch tamer, Lady Jihad powered up and started typing at the console, obviously setting up her evil program designed to degrade, humiliate and tame Ms Americana.

I will not be tamed, she vowed, though stared at the bitch tamer and console with growing fear. I am a superior woman. I am stronger than any of them know. I will prevail.

With her confidence shored up, Ms Americana stood straighter and prouder and waited for them to do their worst. But the evil Iraqis paid no heed to her. They quickly built their insidious device.

"There. Done," Lady Jihad said proudly. "It may not look like much, Ms Americana, but it has never failed me yet."

She pressed a button on the console and Ms Americana heard a hissing sound from the bitch tamer between her legs, then a hydraulic sound. Looking down, she saw the twin dildos inching upward toward her private region. Within seconds they were both touching her pussy and ass hole. Then something cold and wet sprayed from the nozzle. Lubrication. Both dildos were dripping with the lubricating jelly, as was her twat and dunghole. Then Lady Jihad pressed another button and the dildos began oscillating back forth like the agitator in a washing machine.

"Shall we being, Ms Ameri-slut?" Lady Jihad said with wicked glee. She pressed a button and the hydraulics quickly pushed the dildos up against Ms Americana's twat and ass hole. "Fight it all you want, harlot. You're so stretched out and loose from hours and hours of use by my men, that you will weaken quickly. And then you will enjoy the full power of my invention all night."

Ms Americana tightened her nether region muscles and bit down on the ball gag. She fought the insidious fuck machine with all her heart and soul. The seconds grew into minutes. The minutes stretched longer and longer. The task grew harder and harder, but the reward was the growing look of frustration and doubt in Lady Jihad's black eyes.

"Enough," Lady Jihad snapped and punched another button.

Ms Americana was ready for either a pumping motion or more power behind the dildos. What she wasn't prepared for was vibration. The dildos were vibrators as well.

"Hhffff!" she cried into the ball gag. Then both dildos broke past her defenses. "Ugghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

"Ah, victory again," Lady Jihad said with satisfaction. "Even better than I imagined."

Ms Americana couldn't believe it. The vibrating dildos were turning her inside to mush in short order. It took all her strength and concentration to hold back a torrent of orgasms hammering to be released. The deeper the dildos plunged the harder it was getting. By the time their full ten inches were inserted, vibrating deep inside her weakened body, Ms Americana was starting to loose her faith and hope. It was too much to fight. Too much.

"Phase two," Lady Jihad said, pushing another button.

The dildos started pumping in and out of her, as they vibrated and spun back and forth inside her ass and pussy. The tingle in her body changed abruptly, with nothing Ms Americana could do. Tears flowed like rivers as that unstoppable rush to orgasm flushed through her taut body. Within seconds she lost it and a powerful orgasm washed her mind and soul clean of resistance.

"Ah, climax as last," Lady Jihad said. "And such a powerful one. Rest assured, Ms Ameri-harlot, they will become even more intense, more mind numbing. By morning, you will be my helpless prisoner, totally tamed and compliant."

Ms Americana climaxed again. And again. Her eyes rolled up in her head and her body just quivered.

"Enjoy, harlot," Achmed said.

The three Iraqis left Ms Americana alone with the bitch tamer. After another five minutes she feared it would kill her, or worse, leave her a mindless vegetable. But after fifteen minutes of intense pleasure and pain, it shutdown and the hydraulics hiss down. The dildos withdrew and left her in peace.

Breathing deeply, she began to think she would survive after all. After fifteen molestation free minutes, she began to succumb to the day's abuses. Her eyes grew heavy and she slumped in her bounds.

Puiiishhh

Oh, God, nooooooo! she screamed silently.

The bitch tamer came back to life. Once again it sprayed lubricant on the dildos and her nether regions, then vibrated, agitated and pumped her into another four mind searing orgasms. And after fifteen minutes, it shut down. Then after another fifteen minutes it started all over again.

The next morning Ms Americana awoke to find herself back in her full costume and mask. Now she was suspended from the ceiling by her wrists, with her legs swinging free. The hated ball gag was gone.

"So nice of you to join us, Ms American Harlot," Lady Jihad sneered. "How did you enjoy the bitch tamer?"

"I found it amusing, but impersonal," she croaked out through a dry throat and mouth.

There were a dozen men behind her. All were leering hungrily at Ms Americana's helpless body.

"Then you will enjoy today's activities far more," the Iraqi super villainess spat venomously. "My men will give you very personal treatment. For the camera."

Lady Jihad didn't waste any more time. She started the camcorder and stepped next to Ms Americana. She spoke in Arabic for a few minutes, all the while pointing out parts of Ms Americana's scantily clad body with a tone of disgust. Then she deftly removed the star-spangled bikini and motioned for the men. Then in English, "American Occupiers, behold your beloved super heroine being debased and defiled!"

Each of her legs were seized and pulled apart. The first of many men moved up between them and dropped his trousers. He didn't take any time mounting, and she wasn't in any condition to fight him. Lady Jihad quickly pointed out, in both Arabic and English, just how easily and willingly she accept her ravishment.

After the third man finished shooting his jizm deep into her pussy, the men holding her legs let go. So far she hadn't offered any resistance. For all appearances, Ms Americana was defeated and tamed. Lady Jihad was the first to point this fact out.

Suddenly, Ms Americana found herself hanging loose and between men. The next was approaching from the rear, to sate his unnatural lusts on her dunghole. It was Tariq again. But she had no intention of letting him butt fuck her again.

Glancing up, she measured the distance and steeled herself. Then taking a deep breath, she kicked straight up with both feet. Her feet got halfway up to the ceiling, but she allowed herself to swing and then kicked up again. This time she swung high enough to take the pressure off her tortured wrists, and gave her the slack to seized the chains in hand. Then her legs fell back again, swung back, and kicked back up.

Ms Americana's feet struck the ceiling, to either side of the two chains she was suspended from. She pulled on the chains, slamming her booted feet harder into the ceiling and pulled with all of her heart and strength.

"I will not surrender!" she cried, and pulled the chains out of the ceiling.

She fell to the floor amid a shower of roof and dust. In an instant she was on her feet. Tariq was first to face her fury. With the chains still locked around her wrists, she swung those three-foot lengths of steel with all of her martial arts skills. Tariq's jaw shattered seconds later, then his right knee as another chain struck it.

After that, she was too blinded by fury to count the adversaries rushing at her. Ms Americana lashed right and left, forward and behind. She smashed shoulders, snapped arms and legs, splintered ribs and hips. Men fell in piles around her as she lay wasted to that room.

Lady Jihad screamed a curse and ran out the door as the last three men fell at Ms Americana's feet. But the super heroine wasn't about to let her escape. Adrenaline pumped muscles powered her pursuit. A heart full of righteous rage fueled her fury.

"You will not escape me, Lady Jihad!"

But the Iraqi super villainess had no intention of escaping. She raced straight to a pile of AK47 rifles. Then snatching up a banana clip, she slammed it home and turned with triumphant black eyes she chambered the first round.

"Die Ms Americana!"

Ms Americana, still a dozen steps away, dove headfirst as the rifle erupted with fiery death. She hit the ground and rolled forward, coming up under Lady Jihad's guard and drove both fists into her lower belly. Lady Jihad cried out and doubled up in pain. Ms Americana swung one of the chains and struck her enemy across the trigger finger. The rifle fell out of her grasp as she wailed in pain.

A swift kick to Lady Jihad's chin sent her to la-la land.

Looking around, Ms Americana found she was alone in consciousness. All her enemies were down for the count. But that wouldn't stand for long, so she quickly searched Lady Jihad's body and found the keys to her cuffs. Once freed of the hated chains, she retrieved her power belt from around the super villainess's waist. Then tied Lady Jihad up securely.

"Ah, it feels good to be fully dressed again," Ms Americana said, grinning.

The power belt did her no good. She didn't know how long it would be before she'd regain her super strength. They'd fucked her stupid several times.

Picking up an AK47 and several banana clips, she quickly found a radio. Before long she had a US Army platoon on it and help was on the way. In less than fifteen minutes the most beautiful sight she could imagine appeared, a full troop of US Army Armored Cavalry in M3 Bradleys roared over the hill and into the compound.

By dinnertime, a freshly showed Ms Americana was presenting Lady Jihad and her terrorist cell to the Commanding General. Then she had to speak to the world press after being debriefed. So it was late that night when she staggered into her room and pushed the videotape Lady Jihad made into her own VCR.

"I think I'll record the news and watch it when I wake up tomorrow," she said, pushing record. "Nobody needs to see this anyway."

THE END