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, Lydia Wills, 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 or visit my new blog at: /. Please put Ms Americana, Story response, feed back or something like that in Subject line or I might delete thinking it is spam.

MS AMERICANA: MORE BANG FOR THE BUCK

By Dark One

Ms Americana looked out across the crowd outside of City Hall. It was a perfect day in Delta City, in the low 80’s, cloudless and a gently breeze to cool them off. But the crowd was anything but cool. They were very hot. Angry over the never ending drug and prostitution epidemic infesting their city. Most cities had a red light district, maybe a street or two that moved around as the police shut them down time after time. But Delta City had permanent red light districts, the most notorious being Sugar Town just south of downtown. The honest, God-fearing citizens of Delta City wanted their city back, and the sexual miscreants ran out of town.

“The people are in a mood today,” Commissioner Borden said next to her.

“Yes they are, Commissioner, and for good reason,” Ms Americana said.

Ms Americana stepped up to the podium erected atop the steps of City Hall. From her vantage point she saw the statue of herself that the grateful citizens erected in the park. She was proud of being the People’s Champion, their Queen of Justice.

“Good Citizens!” she said. “You’ve heard from the Mayor and the Police Commissioner. They are doing all they can do to protect you.” The crowded quieted, but wasn’t comforted by that statement. “But we still have the same problem. It never goes away. Indeed, it is getting worse with every day that passes. Sugar Town has grown by three blocks this year alone. It has to stop!”

The crowd cheered their agreement. She smiled brightly. They were so adoring of her. So worshipful.

“Therefore, I will personally take care of the sex industry blight,” the stunning super heroine declared. “Starting with Sugar Town.”

The crowd went wild. Ms Americana basked in their adoration in a classic super heroine pose. She was striking in her red, white and blue, star-spangled bikini, with red calf boots and red gauntlet gloves. The blue star-spangled mask hid her identity, while the golden power belt bestowed super strength and endurance. Finally, she topped off her costume with a blue choker and golden tiara. The people said the tiara showed she was truly their Queen of Justice.

“Mark this day, my fellow citizens,” Ms Americana said. “Ms Americana is on the job. Sugar Town is going down!” She slanted a glance back at the Mayor and Police Commissioner. Neither looked particularly pleased. “With all due respect to the city’s Police Department, when it comes to crime-fighting I am more bang for the buck.”

“More bang for the buck!” the crowd cried joyously.

<I know just where to start,> she thought with a fierce smile. The House of Joy was reputed to “buy” white slaves, which was the reason they had some of the most beautiful women in Sugar Town. <Mistress Tabitha, here I come.>

# # #

Sugar Town was Delta City’s most notorious, seediest, most dangerous red light district. The police stopped patrolling its streets fifteen years back. The denizens of that seedy district despised the police and anyone of authority. Ms Americana had had many run-ins with the men and women of Sugar Town’s primary means of employment - Sex, namely prostitution. Other red light districts trafficked in drugs a bit more than flesh, but not Sugar Town.

“Look at them,” Ms Americana said, baby blue eyes narrowing as she spotted a group of streetwalkers calling out to and trying to wave over men in passing cars. “Look how low they have sunk.”

She spotted a woman she knew. Sylvia Vega. She was twenty-eight, tall and shapely. Her family was a wealthy banking family, pillars of Delta City society. Poor Sylvia rebelled against her privileged life, and took up with a bad crowd. Soon, she started drugs. Shortly after that, she fell victim to a drug dealer who sold her to a filthy pimp. She’d been whoring her beauty ever since. Eight years now, in fact. She defied all of Ms Americana’s attempts to reform her.

Across the street, she spied a strip joint. Inside there she knew of three young women of college age who were lured in by evil men, corrupted and trapped in a vicious circle of sex, drugs and emotional dependency on men without the ability to respect women. All three of those women were former friends of Lydia’s.

“I will free you from sexual slavery, for once and for all time,” she said, more determined now that she actually was in Sugar Town and seeing the misery and exploitation first hand.

Ms Americana parked her newest Americana mobil -- custom painted red, white and blue star-spangled, red and white striped Ferrari -- down the block from the House of Joy in an alley. She didn’t want to scare Mistress Tabitha and her woman-hating staff away by her racing up outside.

Climbing out of the car, she paused to adjust her costume. She plumped her 44DDs up and snugged up the bikini bottoms. Then the Queen of Justice strode out of the dark alley purposely, as she tugged up on her gloves. The pimps, pushers and whores scattered at her approach.

“I’d like to see the police scatter them like that just by walking down the street,” Ms Americana said. “Won’t happen. They don’t have the street cred I have. They don’t strike fear in the hearts of Sugar Town’s denizens like I do. That’s why I am more bang for the buck.”

The doormen at the House of Joy saw the ruckus she caused and were ready for her. She smiled grimly as she approached. It wasn’t a total surprise, but she hoped her approach on foot wouldn’t cause all out panic inside. With luck, only the doormen knew of her presence. If not, well she enjoyed cracking miscreants’ heads together.

“Hello, boys,” Ms Americana said, stopping and giving them her best smug, left eyebrow wiggling, look. They froze, not expecting that from their mortal enemy, a renown super heroine. “Waiting for me?”

There were four of them. All big bruisers. Two were white, another black and the last was Mexican American. She knew them all by name. Indeed, she’d tossed around, beaten and dragged them all to jail several times each, but never together. Two of them, the Latino and one of the whites, surprised her, since she thought them still in County lockup.

“So, Carlos, when did you get out?”

“Last week, Americana,” he sneered. “I told you that you can’t keep me down. I’ve been waiting for this day for twenty-three months and seven days.”

“Well, I’ll be,” she said sarcastically as she looked him up and down. He was easily the largest, most muscular and by far the most dangerous of the foursome. “You can actually count that high? And understand a calendar? I’m impressed. Your mother must be proud.”

He just glared at her murderously. His mother was deeply religious and despised what her son had become.

“And you, Milo? Been out long?”

“Two months, Ms Ameri-cunt,” he snarled, dark eyes narrowed to slits.

Milo was about three inches shy of Carlos’s six foot nine, and about fifty pounds lighter. But he was a vicious fighter, and just plan vicious. He had a dark brown flat top and cold blue eyes.

“Shame, you belong behind bars.”

“Save us your mindless super cunt yapping,” Tyrone Jones said, utter contempt in his every word. He was the smallest of the doormen at six four, two hundred sixty pounds. But he was the leader. “Move on, or else we will mop the streets with your round white ass.”

“I’ve kicked your ass at least a dozen times, Tyrone,” she said, a deep freeze entering her baby blues. “I’ve defeated each and every one of you several times, at least. I’ve sent you all to jail, too.” She threw a scathing look at them that could freeze the hearts of lesser men. “Get out of my way. Run for it. Or I’ll repeat my last performances, ending up with all of you going BACK to jail, maybe even hard time.”

The threat might’ve worked ten years back, but the city’s and county’s courts were infested with liberal judges of late, giving sex industry criminals nothing but slaps on the wrist and letting them go. It was enough to make a super powered girl reconsider all the hard work, pain and social life she’d given up to fight for truth, justice and the American way.

But, Ms Americana really enjoyed the FIGHTING crime part.

“Yeah, maybe so, but you ain’t never whooped us TOGETHER,” Tyrone said rather smugly.

She slanted a haughty, you must be high look, then turned to miscreant number four. Punch. Punch was all muscle and violence, little talk and even less brains. He did what he was told, and enjoyed it immensely if it involved beating someone half to death.

“Long time no see, Punchie,” she said, grinning wolfishly. He had longish brown hair that always looked unwashed. “But it’s good to see my favorite PUNCHING bag is back and doing evil’s bidding.”

“Last warning, Ms Ameri-twit,” Tyrone said. “Get out of here, or get your butt whooped something awful.”

“Tyrone, if you truly believed you had the muscle and ability to defeat me, you would've attacked first thing,” she said, enjoying how their jaw muscles tightened and their eyes narrowed. “Therefore…!”

Ms Americana surprised them all. She lunged forward and seized Carlos by the collar, and jerked him off balance, then promptly raced him straight into the side of a patron’s car. She grinned at the damage, knowing some sleazy whoremongering man was about to have some explaining to do to his wife or girlfriend.

Of course, that wasn’t enough to take a monster of a man like Carlos down. She knew it all too well. So the sexy super heroine kicked him repeatedly in the face and side, until Tyrone and Punch arrived, all fists and useless testosterone. She tossed Tyrone over the car, but received a painful punch to the kidney from Punch following him in.

“Uughh!” she cried, head thrown back and arms thrown wide. The force of the blow pushed her against the car. He kneed her shapely rump, and then drove three quick punches to Ms Americana’s kidneys. “Aaayy! Uugghh!”

The shapely super heroine dropped to her knees beside the car, intense pain ripping through her body. While that set of punches would’ve put a strong man down for the count, not to mention a weaker normal woman, Ms Americana wasn’t a normal woman. She was a superior woman, and that was before donning her power belt. With the belt on, she possessed super strength, endurance and healing ability.

Reaching behind with both hands, she seized the cuffs of both legs and surged to her feet. Punch literally had his feet pulled out from under him, and his thick head bounced off the unyielding concrete. She spun around and stomped between his legs, and that took him out of the fight.

Carlos was cursing and struggling to his feet not two feet away, and Milo was racing towards her with hate-filled eyes. It did her heart good to see that such vile criminals feared and hated her so much. She was probably the most hated person, male or female, among the prison population. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw Tyrone leaping over the car at her.

“Ooph!” she cried, as Tyrone plowed into her from above and behind, at the same instant she blocked Milo’s left cross. A second later, as she is being hurled forward by the weight of Tyrone’s attack, Milo’s follow-up right smashed into her jaw and Carlos leapt up and plowed into her from the side. “Ugh! Aaayyyyeee!”

Seconds later, Ms Americana hit the sidewalk 44DDs first. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but Tyrone’s weight forced most of her wind out, and then Carlos’ weight after that pushed the rest out. Then when she lifted her head to suck in that first all important breath, Mile stomped down on her head, driving her forehead into the concrete.

Lights out.

“Wahoo! We did it!” Milo cried, starting to dance around. The Queen of Justice lay face down, arms and legs spread wide. “We took down Ms Americana in a fair fight.”

The pimps, whores, johns and pushers that had crowded around to watch cheered enthusiastically. Most of them had either seen, or heard of Ms Americana’s earlier promise to clean up Sugar Town. Then Tyrone remove her all important power belt and lifted it high to wild cheers and celebrations.

“Without this belt, Ms Americana is just a good, sound FUCKING away from becoming just another whore on the streets!” Tyrone declared joyfully. Then he pointed to the building behind him. “Or, rather, in the HOUSE OF JOY!”

The unconscious Queen of Justice was rolled onto her back. Milo reached down and unfastened the clasp between her monster mammaries, and released them for the world to see and to gasps of shocked delight and more celebrations. He pulled out his cock and started rubbing it on her full red lips and face, while Carlos pulled her bottoms down mile long legs.

“Yo, Carlos, what makes you think YOU go first?” Tyrone said angrily.

“What you mean, man? I took her down,” Carlos said. “I take first rights by right of conquest.”

“I jumped over a CAR!” Tyrone said.

“She kicked me in the balls”

“Then you need time to heal.”

“Uuuuuggghhhh,” Ms Americana groaned painfully. Without the belt she healed at a more normal rate, with some enhance endurance. “Uuugghh, Great Liberty, what hit me?”

“Me,” Carlos snarled, and reached down and seized the sexy super heroine by her bikini waxed, cropped pubic patch. Then he twisted them cruelly. “I’ve been waiting a long time for the moment.”

“Yyyeeeeeeoooooooowwwwwww!” Then Milo shoved his cock into her open mouth. Deep. “Mmmmggghhhh!”

“You are OURS, Americana,” Punch said, then punched her lights out again.

Milo barely had enough warning to pull his cock out, before the big brute’s massive fist slammed into her chin.

“Are you crazy?” he cried.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” Tyrone said incredulously. “Don’t you know it’s better to fuck’em into submission while they're awake?”

“Oh. I guess,” he said. “Sorry. Didn’t think.”

“Again,” Tyrone said, shaking his head. Then he turned around to continue his argument with Carlos, only to find the massively muscled Latino was well mounted. “Damn, see what you did? Now Carlos is gonna stretch her out.”

“You can…uh…have her…oh, sweet…you can have her up the ass,” Carlos said, his face a mask of pure bliss. “This bitch hasn’t been fucked in like forever. She is so damn tight.”

With so much oral and vaginal stimulation, Ms Americana began to stir. Very quickly her hands leapt up to seized Carlos’s madly thrusting hips, trying to stop him. When that failed, she reached for Milo’s balls which were swinging, banging into her eyes and nose. But Tyrone and Punch each seized an arm before she could grab them and pressed her arms to the concrete. Then they knelt on her forearms, causing tremendous pain, and each reached for a massive tit.

“Mmmmmnnnnnggghhh!” she cried around Milo’s pumping cock.

Ms Americana was horrified and frantic. She’d awaken to find her body already halfway to climax. She was overheated and starting to sweat profusely. Her notoriously treacherous libido was fully aflame, and dragging her down fast. She had to regain control of the situation or she was toast. Ms Americana harbored no misconceptions of what the House of Joy would do to her, and then force her to do.

<I refuse to submit to prostitution!> she raged silently.

It was hard, if not impossible, to deny the pleasure her body was receiving in bushels. Then when Tyrone and Punch started pinching, twisting and sucking on her sensitive nipples, every pleasure seemed to triple.

“Hmmmmm,” she groaned, starting to tremble in the battle to stop the coming climax and the overwhelming need to just relax and have that ages overdue orgasm. “Auugghhh.”

<Great Liberty! How could I have taken THESE four men so lightly? Now the awful brutes are doing this to me in the streets, where everyone can watch my defeat in graphic detail,> she thought miserably. < I’m can’t fail! Not with so many witnesses.>

Ms Americana felt her base carnal needs flame up with those thoughts. They were battering at her very last line of defense. Then Carlos’ rhythm changed, becoming even more frantic, and she realized he was about to climax, about to shoot his wad deep into her belly. A chill and shiver savaged her body, then she felt Carlos’ cock stiffen suddenly, and start spurting hot cum into her vagina.

“Yes! Glorious victory at last!” Carlos cried ecstatically.

Punch pinched a nipple, while Tyrone sucked the other in real hard.

Ms Americana felt that frightening erotic heat flare up, and smash through her defenses. <Nooooo!> Her back arched, long legs spread incredibly wide and tensed up, in an involuntary attempt to heighten and lengthen her climax as it claimed her completely.

“Aaaaaaammmmmmmmmmmmggggggggggghhhhhh!”

Seconds later, in the heady grip of orgasm, she started pounding her heels into the concrete. Tat-tat-tatatat-tat tat. All the while the crowd cheered and called out encouragement to the four doormen abusing her. She also heard them laughing at her, belittling her “legend” and super human power. And realized with renewed horror, people were taking pictures! Within the hour, she had no doubt pictures of this terrible act would be splashed across the internet. It was all too much combined with the mind boggling climax.

“Hey, Ameri-slut is really starting to suck my dick!” Milo cried joyfully.

Ms Americana knew she was sucking him off. Knew she was giving him supreme pleasure, but she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted it. Fifteen years of forced abstinence and pent up sexual frustrations demanded satisfaction.

She felt Carlos pull out and groaned pathetically, but Tyrone quickly came up between her legs. But he was looking to break a dark taboo. He lifted her legs up and over, exposing her sphincter and giving easy access. To her shame her pussy juices had already dribbled down between her ass cheeks and liberally soaked her sphincter. He had no trouble pushing one, then two fingers up her poop chute.

“Mmmmmggggguuunnn,” she groaned.

“Loose enough,” Tyrone laughed. “I don’t want it to be too easy on her!”

Tyrone pressed his cock to her ass hole. With just a little push, her sphincter was pushed open and the Queen of Justice felt his huge cock penetrating her in the most despicable manner imaginable. She suddenly realized her body was relaxing, trying to give him easy access. Then he thrust just enough to get his entire dick head into her.

“Aaaaaaaaaauuuuuummmmmmm!” she screamed around Milo’s cock, the pain a lightning strike from her sphincter to all corners of her shapely body.

The crowd screamed in joy. Pimps and whores, pushers and johns were dancing and laughing, with more than a few watching silently, awestruck by what they were witnessing. The fall of an icon. The fall of the Queen of Justice.

<I can’t fall so EASY!> she cried silently.

The camera flashes spiked again.

Tyrone rammed it home with all of his superior strength and weight. It literally felt like he ripped her in two. The pain was so intense she couldn’t even scream or move for the better part of a minute.

Milo’s excitement over face fucking his old nemesis was too much. The burly hired muscle started spurting thick globs of milky cum. The vanquished vigilante gulped twice before he pulled out of her mouth and jacked off in her face with the rest of his cum. Then an overly excited denizen of Sugar Town ran up and snapped countless close-ups of her cum covered face.

Ms Americana licked the thick cum off her full red lips, then licked Milo’s cock and balls clean. Then Carlos thrust his cock in her face, so she could lick it clean as well. She didn’t hesitate, doing a meticulous job of licking him from cock head to massive balls, and back. By that time Punch was ready for his blow job.

“Dude, flip her over onto her hands and knees,” Punch said.

“I’m al…most….there,” Tyrone said. He was truly the most excited about capturing Ms Americana, so the least able to sustain a long fuck. “Wait….wait…OH! There!”

And Ms Americana felt him start to fill her poop chute with cum. Like Milo in her mouth, Tyrone pulled out in time to shoot several thick globs of cum on her round white hiney. He pulled out and made her lick him clean as well.

“Good, I have her to myself now,” Punch said. “On your knees, Ms Ameri-cocksucker.”

Shaking and weak, Ms Americana slowly rolled over to her hands and knees, wondering what Punch intended to do to her. He smiled the cruelest, most self-satisfied smile she’d ever seen, then buried both hands into her long, silky black hair and pulled her up high on her knees. Then he looked her deep in the eyes.

“Unzip me, Ameri-cocksucker.”

Ms Americana swallowed hard, never having felt so afraid before. With trembling hands, she unzipped his pants.

“Pull it out.”

She obeyed. Then her eyes cut to his left rear and saw Mistress Tabitha exiting her brothel’s ornate front door. Their eyes locked and a smug look claimed the notorious madam’s gorgeous face.

Mistress Tabitha was five foot eleven with an amazing black latex and leather sheathed body. Her expressive face was heart-shaped with sapphire blue eyes and flame red hair. She was born in Sugar Town, the child of a pimp and his whore. Like her mother, and three younger sisters, she became a prostitute. But by the age of twenty Tabitha had trained to become a dominatrix. By twenty-five, she’d earned enough to buy the dilapidated building she renovated and turned into the luxurious House of Joy. At the age of thirty, she hadn’t lost a step, was more gorgeous than ever and was second only to King Pimp in peddling flesh in Sugar Town.

“Now suck it like you mean it, Ameri-cocksucker,” Punch demanded.

“Yes, I want to see you SUCK it,” Mistress Tabitha said. “And you had better make it pretty, HOT and make it the best Punch ever had.” She used her wicked looking riding crop to lift Ms Americana’s 44DDs, then whipped it out from under them, letting them bounce enticingly. The crop flew up, and swung back down to slap across the out-of-costume heroine’s shapely white rump.

CRACK!

“Yyyeeeeooooww!”

“Fail to stir my loins while sucking and licking his cock and balls, and you will receive more of those until you start being a good little bad girl and doing it right,” she said harshly. “Understand, or do you need another?”

“I understand!”

“Then you may begin.”

Ms Americana looked at the big cock before her, just inches from her full red lips. It was at least eight inches, thick and reeked of urine and stale sex. A not so clear drop of pre-cum dangled from its purple tip. With a tight throat the celebrated Queen of Justice reached out with the tip of her tongue and licked it off, amid a flurry of camera flashes.

She sucked in Punch’s cock head at the same time she glanced up and he locked eyes with him. She felt the electricity. The excitement in the air was rather infectious, if you’re not the victim of the moment. She tasted the terrible man’s pre-cum on her tongue, felt the cooling breeze on her overheated, sweaty body. Her nipples were rock hard and throbbing with need. Her twat was tingling and releasing lubricating juices, which were starting to dribble down her inner thighs, along with the cum leaking from her cunt and ass hole.

<I’ve been thoroughly debauched,> she thought, feeling that erotic heat starting to flame up again as her full red lips began their long descent down Punch’s thick shaft. She heard the “oohhs” and “aws” from the crowd. <How humiliating!>

Punch ran his thick finger back into her super soft black mane. He gently massaged her scalp while she sucked his cock. It felt so good to her that she closed her eyes and started sucking hard.

“Mmmmm-nnnnuuummmm.”

Mistress Tabitha slowly paced around them, circling them over and over, while the crowd watched from a few feet further away. The clicking and flashes let her know they were still there and taking pictures as they mostly watch in silence, not wanting to miss anything.

<I can’t believe I’m giving a public sex show,> she thought as her head bobbed quickly up and down his cock, and her hands fondled his big balls.

After of a few minutes of bobbing for cocks, she pulled him out of her mouth to first rub it all over her face, then run her tongue up, down and all around his cock. Then a few more minutes of head bobbing, and finally she lifted his cock high and licking his hairy balls while stroking his cock with a hand. And back to cock sucking.

“Good girl, Ms…what did he call you?”

“Ameri-cocksucker,” she said, and started sucking him again.

CRACK!

“Aaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeee!”

“Mistress!” Mistress Tabitha snarled, enjoying the sight of that angry red welt rising up across her prisoner’s shoulders. “I am your mistress.”

CRACK!

“Yes Mistress Tabitha!”

“Keep sucking.”

“Yes, mistress,” she said. Sucking him in deep, she groaned, “Mmmmmmm.”

Though she thought it impossible, she felt her nipples harden even more. The rancid stench of Punch’s crotch was arousing. The very taste of him made her groan with pleasure. And his hands in her hair like that, urgent, needing, demanding….

“Mmmmm,” she groaned.

A chill ran up her spine as she sucked her mortal enemy so erotically, so enthusiastically. Her twat was burning with need. She was all but panting through her nose as she gave him that most intimate of carnal pleasures, in that most submissive of positions. Heart hammering, Ms Americana knew she was losing herself.

Punch held off his climax for a good fifteen minutes. But he was no super hero. After fifteen minutes of the most intense, most incredible head he’d ever had, the hired muscle ex-con exploded inside Ms Americana’s eager mouth. She sucked all he had, lapping it up hungrily.

When she pulled his cock out again and rubbed it all over her face, the sexy super heroine moaned and groaned with despicable pleasure as she felt his hardness against the soft smoothness of her skin, felt the sticky warmth of his cum. Then when she stopped to lick and suck him clean, it was so arousing he came again.

“How did little Miss Prime and Proper Super Prude get so good at giving head?” Mistress Tabitha said, a glint in her sapphire eyes.

“I was a wild teen, Mistress.”

“And very popular, I suspect.”

“Very.”

Mistress Tabitha contemplated her prize a long moment. The smile on her beautiful face slowly grew wider and wider. Suddenly, she locked eyes with Ms Americana, baby blues lock helplessly to sapphire blues.

“Crawl to me, Ms Americana,” Mistress Tabitha said. “Crawl to your mistress and absolute owner.”

Ms Americana gasped at her choice of words. She glanced around. The crowd was deathly silent, waiting breathlessly, eagerly. The vanquished vigilante saw no succor was coming from that direction.

“Y-yes, Mistress.”

Ms Americana dropped to all fours and began crawling. The perverted camera jockies had a field day snapping away. It was like being on the red carpet, with a healthy dose of humiliation.

“Now, let’s see who has been hiding for so long behind that mask,” Mistress Tabitha said, grinning victoriously.

“No!” Ms Americana cried.

The terrified super heroine lunged to her feet, bringing a knee up into Mistress Tabitha’s latex sheathed cunt. As the notorious dominatrix and madam collapsed, Ms Americana struck before her henchmen could react. A bare second later, she kicked Carlos in the gonads, then repeated with Milo. Tyrone was dropped from a roundhouse to the head and shoved back into an enraged Punch.

That gave her a brief moment.

Ms Americana squatted beside Mistress Tabitha and recovered her power belt. Putting it on, she felt a little strength trickle into her body. At best, she tripled her strength. It would have to be enough.

“Oh!” the crowd cried.

“I’ll kill you!” Punch cried, charging her.

When he threw his most devastating punch, she caught his wrist, twisted just so, and flipped him over her hip. She’d done it a dozen times before over the years they’d fought. He always made the same mistakes. Punch wasn’t the brightest man alive.

A quick kick to the head, with enhanced strength, and Punch was out.

“Now that was very satisfying,” she said, grinning smugly down at Punch’s limp body. “Now to deal with your boss lady.”

“I’m no lady,” Mistress Tabitha cried, and kicked Ms Americana in the face when she turned around.

“Aaaayyy!” Ms Americana cried, tripping over Punch and falling to her firm, round rump. “Ooph!”

Instead of attacking, Mistress Tabitha turned tail and ran back into her brothel. Ms Americana gawked incredulously. The statuesque super heroine watched as Tabitha locked the expensive glass doors. Then the city’s top dominatrix dangled Ms Americana’s red, white and blue bikini smugly, laughed and turned on a heel and walked away.

“Oh! You vile, foul woman!” Ms Americana cried, leapt to her feet and raced to the door. “Don’t bother running, Tabitha! You can’t escape my wrath!”

The naked Queen of Justice yanked at the thick glass doors. All she did was jiggle her 44DDs for her audience of ill wishers. So with a cry of rage, she spun around and smashed a red booted foot into the left door. The door shattered under the impact. And Ms Americana raced inside to spot an incredulous Mistress Tabitha across the entryway.

They locked eyes, and Ms Americana grinned wolfishly.

“Now YOU go down, Tabitha.”

Mistress Tabitha turned and ran, closing the door behind her. Ms Americana raced after her, the chase on. They ran through a room full of business men mingling with scantily clad hookers, scattering them all. Tabitha left a path of overturned tables and chairs in her wake, forcing the nimble super heroine to continuously dodge and leap over furniture.

Ms Americana chased the remarkably fast madam all the way to the back of the notorious brothel. There, Mistress Tabitha started up a steep back stair. Her stiletto heeled boots forced Mistress Tabitha to a snail’s crawl up. But Ms Americana was more used to running and climbing precarious steps in tall stilettos, so caught her on the second floor.

“Oooff!” Mistress Tabitha cried, as she was tackled. “Don’t hurt me! I give up!”

“So, you can dish it out, but can’t take it,” Ms Americana said scornfully. “You disgust me on so many levels.”

Ms Americana noticed her costume wadded up and clutched in both of the vile madam’s hands. She suddenly felt her nakedness profoundly. She didn’t want to greet the cops like that. So she reached down with both hands to get her costume back. Mistress Tabitha resisted.

“Give it to me!”

“Okay,” she said. She let Ms Americana pull the two pieces of the patriotically themed costume from her hand, revealing a small black tube like device. Ms Americana hesitated, trying to see what she was trying to hide. Then Mistress Tabitha extended her arm, the small can of mace in her hand and a finger on the sprayer. “Take that!”

Sssshhhhhhiiiiiiissssssssssssss.

“Aaaaaayyyyyyy!” the Queen of Justice cried, stumbling backwards. Then her heel caught in the carpet and she fell back onto her shapely rump again. “Uuugghh.”

A second later, Mistress Tabitha sprayed another healthy dose of mace into the maddened super heroine’s eyes.

“Uuuggggghhhhhhh! Stop it!” she cried.

Mistress Tabitha tried to remove the power belt. Ms Americana left off rubbing her stinging eyes to roll to her hands and knees, and then tried to crawl way quickly. But she crawled into the wall. The madam was on her immediately, tugging, then jerking frantically at the belt.

“Why won’t this…uh…come off? It came off before,” Mistress Tabitha cried, frustrated and confused.

“It can’t be removed unless I will it, so give it up,” Ms Americana snarled, still blinded but starting to slowly recover from the mace.

That angered the shapely mistress. So she jumped atop Ms Americana’s back and threw an arm around Ms Americana’s throat. The desperate super heroine stopped rubbing her eyes long enough to grab Tabitha’s arm to pull it away. She had no doubt she was strong enough to do that, even at just triple her normal strength. But then Mistress Tabitha did the unthinkable.

“Bet I can take this off!” Mistress Tabitha cried, seizing Ms Americana’s blue, star-spangled mask.

“NO!”

Too late.

Mistress Tabitha ripped off the mask and leapt away.

“Great Liberty! I’ve been unmasked!” Ms Americana cried.

Ms Americana’s red, pain filled face baffled Mistress Tabitha a long moment, what with her maced eyes all squished closed in pain.

“Brenda Wade? Is it really Brenda Wade?” she said incredulously. “My God, it is! That smug, stuck-up, holier-than-thou busy body is secretly Ms Americana!”

“No! Please, you don’t understand,” Ms Americana cried, reaching out blindly for her. “Please….mercy. I can pay blackmail. I will make you rich!”

“Oh, yes you will, just not in a way you’re going to like,” Mistress Tabitha laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“Blackmail money is well and good, and I’ll want lots and lots,” Mistress Tabitha said, sapphire eyes burning with sweet vicious victory. “But I didn’t become a dominatrix and brothel owner just for the sake of money. No, missy, I did it because I like to dominate and degrade other women. Especially rich, powerful, gorgeous women, like you.”

“Oh!” Ms Americana said in a tiny voice.

Cold dread filled Ms Americana’s racing heart. Mistress Tabitha knew her secret identity. That kinky and hateful dominatrix and madam held the power of life and death over her now. Ms Americana knew she was utterly defeated now, with no hope of ever escaping Mistress Tabitha’s evil clutches.

“I LOVE to seduce or force women like you into prostitution,” she said. “Half this brothel is staffed by white slaves, most from good families and very rich.” She looked her newest sex slave and hooker over with relish. “Yes, I’m going to enjoy whoring off your sweet round ass, Ms “Brenda Wade” Americana. Now, sit back on her legs.”

“Please…,” she begged.

“Sit back, now,” Mistress Tabitha said dangerously. Ms Americana complied. “Now spread your knees. Wider. Wider. Good. Now tell me your name.”

“Brenda Wade, A.K.A Ms Americana…Mistress.”

“Good girl, you remembered,” Mistress Tabitha said. “Now, arch your back and thrust out to titanic tits. Good girl.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Cross your wrists behind your back and maintain that pose until I give you permission to break it.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she said, complying numbly.

She heard Mistress Tabitha walk away. Her first thought - ESCAPE! Run! But she didn’t. Tabitha would reveal her secret identity immediately, to people far worse than herself. Men eager to torture and murder her….and Lydia! No matter what she had to do, what disgusting acts she had to perform, Ms Americana knew she had to do them. Her only goal now was to keep Mistress Tabitha pleased with her, and away from Lydia.

By the time of Mistress Tabitha’s return, Ms Americana’s maced eyes had recovered. What she saw struck dread in her heart. Mistress Tabitha had her riding crop, and in the other hand a leash and slave collar.

Ms Americana lifted her chin without being asked, because it was inevitable and it would please her new mistress. And it did please her. The collar was four inches wide and red leather with four silver leash rings. Mistress Tabitha then attached the leash and pulled it tight, their faces just inches apart.

Locking intense sapphire eyes with her slave girl, Mistress Tabitha said, “Tell me you love me.”

With those dreadful words, Ms Americana’s body instantly changed. She felt her juices start flowing and it was difficult to breathe. She remembered Mistress Tabitha’s reputation -- that every girl that worked for her was her abject love slave. They all, whether white slave or there by choice, LOVED their mistress and madam.

<I’m going to be brainwashed,> she thought dismally. <And it starts here and now.>

“I l-love you, Mistress Tabitha.”

Her mistress lowered her glistening red lips to hers. Ms Americana’s eyes closed, her head tilted back and her full red lips parted to receive her new light and day, her new moon and stars. Her mistress.

“Mmmmmm,” they both moaned as their lips met.

She felt her mistress’s tongue on her teeth, so opened wide and received her. Soon their tongues dance and toyed with each other deep in her mouth.

“Mmmmmmmmm,” Ms Americana groaned sensuously.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Mistress.”

“Again.”

“I love you. Mistress.”

Mistress Tabitha gave her slave a fierce kiss, and stood up and stepped back.

“Take off your power belt,” Mistress Tabitha commanded. Ms Americana unfastened the golden belt of power and held it up for her mistress to gaze upon. “Good little slave slut. Drop it on the floor. Good. Now, pick it up with your teeth, crawl to me and gently place your power belt at my feet.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

As commanded, she picked the belt up with her teeth and crawled over to her mistress. She paused and glanced up, to see if her mistress was pleased, then gently set the belt inches before Mistress Tabitha’s booted feet.

“Good girl,” Mistress Tabitha. “Kiss both of my boots.”

Ms Americana dropped low and pressed her full red lips to one, then the other boot toe. Then she sat back on her legs, spread extremely wide, and waited for her mistress’s next command.

“So far so good. Now, crawl over to your costume and bring in back in your teeth, one piece at a time.”

Ms Americana, a once proud and arrogant super heroine, meekly crawled back and forth between her costume and her mistress, delivering the requested articles of super heroine clothing. All the while Mistress Tabitha enjoyed the swaying of her slave’s dangling 44DDs and the swing of her hiney as she crawled.

The victorious dominatrix/madam then had Ms Americana dress up in her costume and mask, but not the belt. Then she tugged on the leash and made her crawl behind her, heeling obediently. She led Ms Americana to the main stairs, and then down to the first floor, laying down the law of the House of Joy and how she will conduct herself while with paying customers -- johns. The men and women that first saw Ms Americana crawling behind Mistress Tabitha, clearly defeated and conquered, shouted out with glee. The worried crowd outside the brothel cheered wildly when one of the patrons ran out and told them.

Ms Americana was taken to the main parlor, which was packed with men and scantily clad women. She was ordered to her feet, and the collar removed.

“It’s time for you to start your new career of public service,” Mistress Tabitha said, sapphire eyes dancing with dark pleasure. The men and women laughed, most with lusty eyes for the statuesque enslaved beauty. “Now get to work.”

Ms Americana was all but dog piled by eager johns. It took five minutes, and it really didn’t calm down until Mistress Tabitha devised a makeshift lottery for the right to take Ms Americana upstairs for nasty sex. After the first costumer was chosen, a chubby middle-aged, middle management type -- who was a middle manager in Wade Industries -- Mistress Tabitha led the lucky pair upstairs, to the room that would be Ms Americana’s new “office” for many years to come.

“Master, how may your loving super heroine slave please you tonight?” Ms Americana asked, kneeling before her first john.

“What do I get for fifty dollars?”

“A suck and fuck.”

“Doggie style?”

“If that’s how you want to do it.”

He handed her two twenties and a ten. And Ms Americana proceeded to make his darkest super heroine fantasy come true. And she did the same for countless others after him that night, until the sun came up the next morning. Then, while attending her mistress while she read the morning paper, before they went to bed together, Mistress Tabitha showed her the headline: MS AMERICANA FALLS.

“The police refuse to try and rescue, it says in the article,” Mistress Tabitha said. “Apparently an angry mob of Sugar Towners has encircled Sugar Town and threaten mayhem if the police even look like they will try and enter.”

“I understand, Mistress,” Ms Americana said, dejected that the Police Department and city she helped so selflessly for so many years wasn’t even considering saving her from a life of despair and debauchery.

Days later, Brenda’s board of directors and top executives were invited to the House of Joy to enjoy her many sexual pleasures. Then after that everyone that hated, resented and desired Brenda Wade or Ms Americana made their way to the House of Joy, to sample her charms. Ms Americana was very busy serving a lot of people for many years.

THE END