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

Ms Americana and Delta City are the creations of Mr. X.

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MS AMERICANA: STRONGER

By Dark One

"Cowards!" Ms Americana cried as five pimps raced away in different directions.

She was down in Shady Grove, a new red light district "hot spot." It had sprang up and absorbed most of a neighborhood before anyone in authority noticed. And then they only doubled the squad car patrols in the area. Vice never even visited Delta City's newest red light district.

Ms Americana stood in the center of an intersection and grinned at the fleeing pimps. She'd promised Police Commissioner Borden she would clean up this neighborhood within the week. She was only an hour into her first day and it was going even better than she'd hoped.

The citizens were all standing around and gawking at the patriotically attired super heroine. Her red, white and blue star-spangled and stripped bikini, red boots and gloves and blue star-spangled mask were known the world over. She was Ms Americana, champion of Truth and Justice.

<The Queen of Justice is victorious again,> she thought, touching her golden tiara to ensure it was straight. Then she adjusted the golden power belt around her narrow waist. That belt "energized" her body, giving her super strength the equal of ten men, gave her amazing healing abilities and provided protection from projectile weapons. The belt made her a super heroine.

Pursing her full red lips, the sexy super heroine looked around at all the hookers gawking at her. Mostly, they looked frightened and unsure. A few were angry, glaring daggers at her. So she fluffed her magnificent mane of silky black hair and headed for the largest gaggle of hookers. Time to run the worker bees of the sex industry off the streets, now that their "evil overlords" were gone.

"You think your shit don't stink," a large African-American beauty snarled. She looked just shy of Ms Americana's six foot one, with all her parts slightly less than the super heroine's 44DD-26-40 body. Her hair was long and straightened, dyed a reddish-blonde. She looked like the lead singer of Destiny's Babes, except with 40DDs. "You think you're special, don't you?"

Ms Americana paused just shy of the sidewalk. She slanted a haughty gaze over her shoulder at the approaching hooker. She wore a golden silk dress only held closed by a wide red belt. She finished out her outfit with half a dozen silver bangles jingling, divided between both wrists, chandelier earrings and red stiletto sandals with the straps criss-crossing up her calf.

The Queen of Justice quickly accessed her threat as minimal, as she looked too girlie to be a fighter. Of course, she did have the large voluptuous body of a woman possessing the Aphrodite gene. Almost all super heroines had that gene. In many ways, it gave them the superior bodies, minds and confidence to become super heroines. A normal woman's body couldn't withstand the stresses and abuse a super heroine's body goes through on a daily basis, super powers or not.

"What? You too good to speak to me?"

"I have only one thing to say to you and the other whores. Run," Ms Americana said. "Run far away and don't look back."

"Say what? Who died and made you queen?"

Ms Americana smiled and touched her tiara. "Well, I AM the Queen of Justice. Does that answer your question?"

"No. A piece of cheap bling don't answer none of my questions, bitch," she said, scowling fiercely as she stopped two steps shy of the super heroine.

<Cheap?> Ms Americana thought, amused. Ms Americana didn't wear anything 'cheap.' In private life, she was one of Delta City's richest and most respected citizens and business women, so could afford the finest things in life. So her tiara was pure gold of the finest quality. Created for her by Tiffany's. <If you only knew the truth.>

Aloud, Ms Americana said haughtily, "You are a disgrace to womankind. A whore, the lowest form of life I can imagine. The very bottom of the sex industry food chain."

"Oh, no you din't," the beautiful prostitute cried. "Nobody talks to Sherika like that and gets away with it, fancy costume of not."

"Yes I dit," Ms Americana snapped, mocking her inferior English. "I am the Queen of Justice! THE most powerful woman in this city, and I don't tolerate insufferable behavior or verbal abuse from a two-bit STREET WHORE."

The other hookers that had been assembling gasped.

"Now, get your skanky, sleazy whore butts off these streets," Ms Americana demanded in her most authoritive super heroine voice. Her eyes flashed blue fire as she locked them on Sherika.

"You going to make me?" Sherika said, brown eyes flashing just as fiercely. "We're tired of your bullying. We're sick to death of the abuse by super heroines and pimps. This is our Independence Day. And you, Ameri-BITCH, are the prime abuser. These are our streets, so you go away."

"Are YOU going to make me?"

Ms Americana turned to face the enraged hooker. She struck a classic super heroine pose: fists on well rounded hips, 44DDs thrust out, head held high, one hip thrust to the side and a leg pushed forward. The statuesque super heroine lifted one perfectly plucked black eyebrow in a haughty challenge.

"Oh, yeah, you're real tough with that golden power belt," Sherika growled. "Take it off and we'll see who really is stronger."

"That's funny," Ms Americana said. "Belt or no belt, I am your superior in every way."

The hookers were all outraged now, calling out taunts, dire threats and challenges. Ms Americana knew from past experience they didn't have the backbone to back them up. If she truly turned on them, attacked them, the hookers would scattered with shrieks and tears to the four corners. Like their pimps did earlier.

"Talk is cheap, Ameri-bitch," Sherika said, eyes flashing her challenge.

"Ha! Nice try, tramp, but I'm not taking the bait," Ms Americana said. "I'm not taking off my belt to prove anything to the likes of you."

"Cause you know I'll whoop your round white ass if you did," Sherika crowed mockingly. The other hookers took up the mocking cries. "I'll beat you like a drum. I'll beat you so far down, you'll be lucky if I let you lick the dirt off my shoes."

Ms Americana ground her teeth and held her tongue. Average citizens were gathering, but keeping their distance. But they were close enough to hear every mocking word. They were starting to look at her doubtfully, as if there was something wrong with HER.

<I have to defuse this situation,> she thought. If not, her reputation would be stained by a mere street whore.

"This is a senseless conversation," Ms Americana said, and turned away. She started for her nearby car. "I have better things to do than let you drag me down into the gutter with you."

"Coward," Sherika said.

Ms Americana froze in mid-step, heart pounding in her chest. No one had EVER called her a coward. Ever. She was the world's premier super heroine. She could feel her face heating up, blood pressure spiking. She ground her teeth, and forced herself to continue on.

"Coward!" Sherika cried. "Coward! Coward! Ms Americana is AFRAID of me!"

"Ms Americana is a Sissy Heroine!" another hooker called.

"Silence!" Ms Americana cried, whirling around, hands clenching and unclenching. "How dare you call me a coward. You are filthy, sleazy whores. Sniveling little worms of humanity, unworthy of my notice. I suggest you shut up while you still have the chance."

"Ooo, what you gonna do, Ameri-coward," Sherika taunted. "Use your SUPERIOR strength to beat us up? Oh wait, there is no superior anything. You have a BELT that makes you superior. Without that belt you are barely worthy of being my PUNK whore. Without that belt, I'd put YOU to work whoring."

"And you know it, too," a Hispanic hooker said. "That's why you are so afraid."

"That's why you are trying to get away," Sherika said. "Stinking coward."

"Shut up!"

"Ms Americana has lost her edge!" Sherika cried. "She doubts herself."

"Shut up!"

"Make us," Sherika said. "Take off the belt and fight me. That'll shut us up. Otherwise, we will spread the word city wide. Ms Americana is a coward. Coward."

"Coward! Coward! Coward! Coward!" the hookers all started chanting.

Ms Americana was aghast and dumbfounded. This situation has never occurred to her before. How did she survive it unscathed. Reputation wise. If the city's underworld thought she'd lost her fighting edge, had began to doubt herself, then they would flood out into the city. Even she couldn't stop them. It had taken her years to get them as cowed as they are now.

The assembled honest citizens were giving her astonished, wary looks. Like they believed Sherika and those vile little whores. It was beyond her ability to fathom how, but HER base support was backing the HOOKERS.

"I'll beat you to a pulp," Ms Americana cried, glaring at Sherika. "Don't you understand? I will HURT you. Bad. I am a trained fighter. I don't need this belt and what it gives me to beat you like the two-bit whore you are. Save yourself the pain and humiliation."

"Talk is cheap, Ameri-coward."

"And you should know cheap, whore," she snapped.

"I also know half the battle for a super heroine is her reputation on the street," Sherika said, eyes cold as a viper's. "If you back down from a fight with what you called a 'girlie street whore' then you're rep is toast, girlie."

"You are going to so regret this day," Ms Americana growled.

She glanced around at all the expectant whores and citizens. Everyone looked eager for a catfight. They all disgusted her. Worse, she was slowly being backed into a corner, being forced to provide disgusting entertainment. Then she had an idea that might defuse the situation and save face.

"I might consider LOWERING myself to your gutter level under one condition."

Everyone gasped, eyes lighting up with wicked delight. Especially Sherika.

"Name it!"

"When I win this fight, every single hooker on this street now has to give up this life. Go legit. Get REAL jobs in honest society," Ms Americana said, baby blues flashing as the hookers groaned and scoffed. "Hey, it is the ONLY way I will demean myself with a common street fight. I have a reputation for righteousness and good and justice. Street fights go against everything I stand for. I am, after all, a role model."

Ms Americana smiled smugly at Sherika. Now it was the street hooker's turn to know doubt and worry. The sexy super heroine was sure the hooker and her supporters would back down now. They were all addicted to whoredom. If Ms Americana hadn't learned anything else, she knew that once a prostitute always a prostitute. A woman might suppress it a while, but eventually her true nature would resurface and the whore would take over again. They all ended back on the streets turning tricks well past their prime.

"We can accept that," Sherika said, shocking most of the hookers. They started to balk, then she raised her hands for silence. "After all, if we have to ante up, so does Ms Americana."

Deathly silence fell across the mean streets of Shady Grove. Ms Americana's eyebrow rose. Ante up? What did she mean by that?

"If I win the fight, Ms Americana will become a working girl," Sherika shouted triumphantly. "MY working girl. Ms Americana will work for me, turning tricks in Shady Grove!"

"No!" the super heroine cried, horrified at how she turned this around on her.

"What? Scared, Ms Ameri-coward? Coward!" Sherika cried. "Swear it! You will be my whore, my prostitute, if I win the fight. Swear it, or tuck tail and RUN, coward."

"Coward! Coward! Coward! Ms Americana is a COWARD!" the hookers began chanting, and some of the good citizens joined in. "Coward! Coward! Coward! Ms Americana is a COWARD!"

"SILENCE!" the Queen of Justice cried at the top of her lungs. They all fell silent, watching her breathlessly and expectantly. "Deal."

All Hell broke loose as hookers began dancing. Ms Americana watched them grimly. That celebration was nothing to what it would be if she lost. But she wouldn't lose. Her biggest concern now was protecting her power belt. Without it, she was vulnerable. And she wouldn't put it past one or more of those wicked whores to STEAL it when she set it aside. Even the honest citizens couldn't be trusted, for this was a poor part of town and they could get rich auctioning it off to rich criminals.

<But, my car is invulnerable,> she thought. <It'll be safe in there. And close enough if I need it in a pinch.>

"We fight, right here, right now," Sherika called. "Make a circle!"

"Wait," Ms Americana said.

They all stopped and stared at her expectantly. Some looked like they feared she changed her mind. She just smiled grimly at them, reached back and unsnapped the belt. The sensation of super strength bleeding away engulfed her. Most nights, she didn't pay that much attention to the dissipating benefits of the belt when she removed it. This time, she felt the loss of that super strength profoundly.

"Let me put this up," she said.

"I'll hold it," a strikingly beautiful brunette offered eagerly.

There was a mercenary glint in her green eyes that frightened Ms Americana. The super heroine almost snapped the belt right back on. Instead, she shook her head NO and walked slowly to her car. The only sound was the click clicking of her stiletto heeled boots.

"Trunk, open," she said, popping the truck with voice activation. She had no where to carry a key, after all. It was the most advanced in voice recognition, too, so no concern a good imitator would be able to gain access to her car. Flag Girl was the only other person capable of opening it. Ms Americana carefully placed the all important power belt in the trunk and closed it. "Level One security, now."

The car security beeped and flashed the lights in acknowledgement.

Ms Americana lifted her head high and marched back to the half-formed circle of humanity. They parted eagerly for her as she confidently stroke back to the center of that fight circle.

Sherika was waiting.

"I'm so going to love whoring you off for fun and profit, Ms Stuck-up Bitch," Sherika snarled.

"What are the rules?" Ms Americana said.

"No rules, just win," Sherika said, and kicked straight up into Ms Americana's crotch without warning.

Ms Americana understood the type person she was fighting. She expected her to fight dirty. So she was prepared for it. Twisting and turning, she barely deflected the kick enough to take the brunt in her upper thigh. It hurt, but wasn’t crippling. But before Sherika realized her ploy failed, the super heroine spun around and backhanded the overconfident hooker.

"Aaiiieee!" Sherika cried, falling back in pain and confusion.

Ms Americana smiled, baby blues afire. Her super heroine reputation was based upon her ability, and willingness, to kick serious butt. Everyone knew she was not afraid to get her hands dirty to clean up crime.

"You will regret forcing me to fight," Ms Americana said, following closely.

Sherika fell back a dozen steps, staggering slightly. As soon as she started to regain her senses and balance, Ms Americana seized her left wrist and jerked her back towards her. Then she laid a hard forearm across her upper chest, just above her large tits. The statuesque hooker's feet flew up and she fell straight back -- hard.

"Ooff!" Sherika grunted upon impact. "Ooooh."

Ms Americana paused and looked around. Some of the honest citizens looked pleased. None of the assembled hookers did. They were shocked and some were even looking a bit worried.

"After the fight I will give you girls the numbers to a few outreach organizations that can help you integrate back into mainstream society," Ms Americana said with complete confidence.

"It's not over," Sherika said through clenched teeth. Then she thrust her sharp stiletto heel into the side of Ms Americana's right knee. "Not yet!"

"Aaaiiieee," the super heroine cried, limping back to clutch her injured knee. She looked it over quickly, keeping a wary eye on Sherika's slow rise to her feet. The skin wasn't broken. And after a few seconds the pain began to subside. "Nice try, but no cigar, whore."

"You caught me by surprise, that's all," Sherika sneered. "But I'm a street fighter, while you're a goodie-two-shoes super heroine who relies on her super strength to win the day too much."

The two titanic titted beauties squared off. Sherika proved the least patient one, and charged Ms Americana within seconds. The raven-maned super heroine seized the beautiful whore and flipped her over her hip. Once again, Sherika found herself sprawled at her arrogant opponent's booted feet.

"Not looking so confident now, little whore," Ms Americana taunted. "I advise you to surrender and accept your fate. Life in the mainstream won't be that bad."

"Mainstream society can't handle me," Sherika said, rolling to her feet and going into a defensive stance. Ms Americana smirked at her defensiveness, but didn't attack. "I'm too strong for them."

"No, you are a pathetic weakling, being exploited by those bigger and stronger than you," Ms Americana sneered. "That, Little Miss Two-bit Whore is the life of a prostitute. Accept it. Take charge of your life for once, and be someone."

Sherika lunged at Ms Americana and seized her wrist.

"Oh!"

"Okay, I take charge of YOU," Sherika cried, and jerked her hard.

Ms Americana's baby blues grew wide as she saw Sherika's forearm driving towards her upper chest, to repay her previous strike in kind. But the not so helpless heroine was an old hat at fighting. She brought her own right arm up under Sherika's and pushed it up and aside, then ducked and drove shoulder first into the shapely hooker's midsection.

"Ooff!" the prostitute grunted.

Then the scantily clad heroine dropped low and kicked one leg out. Sherika cried out in shock and surprise as her feet were swept out from under her, sending her hard to the ground again. But this time she rolled upon impact and rolled right back up to her feet, ready for attack.

Ms Americana was ready. She stepped in and punched Sherika in the side -- once, twice, three times. The beautiful hooker fell to her knees before the exultant super heroine. Tears flowed down Sherika's face as Ms Americana assumed a super heroine pose over her.

"Surrender," the Queen of Justice demanded. "You are no match for me." She looked Sherika over with a sneer of utter contempt. "Look how pathetic you are. I'd DESERVE to be whored off by you if I lost this fight."

"You deserve to be a whore, and I will not stop fighting until you are one," Sherika growled.

Sherika surged to her feet. Even Ms Americana had to admit the statuesque hooker was proving a tough opponent. But she was no match for the Queen of Justice's martial skill and experience. Her three quick punches were all blocked almost effortlessly, then Ms Americana punched her once in her rock hard abs. Powerful abs or not, Sherika was doubled up.

"Ouch, bet that hurt," Ms Americana said, chuckling. She lifted Sherika's tear streaked face up to tit level and grinned at her in victory. "Looks like you're due for a career change."

"Yes," Sherika groaned, then licked full red lips as her face lit up. "You, too."

Sherika reached out with both hands and seized one of Ms Americana's titanic tits. Then she BIT down are the semi-hard nipple poking at the thin fabric. She clamped down on that nipple.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Ms Americana wailed. All reason left the legendary vigilante as her mind tried to wrap itself around such incredible pain. "Great Liberty! Let GO!"

"Nuuww!" Sherika said through clenched teeth.

Ms Americana seized Sherika's head and tried pathetically to pull her off. The pain was so bad the strength drained from her limbs and she could barely form a coherent thought. That’s when Sherika's right hand dropped down, and back, balled up into a fist and SLAMMED into Ms Americana's own rock hard belly.

"Ooff! Let….go…Please," Ms Americana begged, gasping. "Mercy."

"No mercy!" the hookers all cried. Then began to chant, "Make Americana a whore! Make Americana a whore! Make Americana a whore!"

Over and over.

"A deal! A deal!" Ms Americana cried. "Let's make a deal. Please, I beg you."

"Only one deal," Sherika said, releasing the nipple and standing straight. "You submit to me. You become my whore."

With that, Sherika hauled off and slammed her fist between Ms Americana's eyes. Ms Americana's arms, that had been massaging her brutalized tit, flew up and out as she fell backwards with a pained grunt. Then Sherika followed with a right to the ribs, a left to the belly and finished up with an uppercut to the chin.

Ms Americana's red booted feet flew up and she fell to the ground at Sherika's feet. A great cheer rose up from the surrounding hookers. Their eyes were alive with more excitement, more passion than they'd known in years. Through Sherika, their HEROINE, they finally got to punish their enemies. And Ms Americana was the ultimate enemy, the premier super heroine in the country.

Sherika reached down and dragged Ms Americana up by her silky black hair, then began pounding fist after brutal fist in the not so haughty super heroine's belly. After a dozen punches, the Queen of Justice sank to her knees. Sobbing.

"The Queen of Justice is dead," Sherika cried, then she kicked the helpless heroine in the chin. Ms Americana's head snapped back and she was left semi-conscious before the victorious hooker, knees wide and legs tucked under, laying back. So she kicked her square in the cunt. "Long live the LOWEST of WHORES!"

Ms Americana's shapely body tensed, and relaxed as she completely lost consciousness.

"Someone give me a pair of handcuffs," Sherika said, admiring her prize. The ultimate prize in the sex industry -- Ms Americana as a working prostitute. Her request was answered by two dozen hookers eager to participate in the ultimate humiliation and destruction of Ms Americana. "Thanks."

Sherika quickly cuffed Ms Americana's wrists behind her back. She didn't want her waking up and claiming the fight still on. Sherika knew she was lucky to have won. It was Ms Americana's cockiness, her overconfidence and disdain for Sherika's occupation that allowed her that small opportunity. Her greatness was recognizing opportunity when she saw it, and the guts to take it.

"Ms Americana is MINE!"

"SHERIKA! SHERIKA! SHERIKA!" they cried, even most of the common citizens.

"Ooooo….ahhheewww," Ms Americana groaned miserably. Then her baby blues fluttered open. "What happened? Where am..? Hey, what the…?"

She began to struggle fruitlessly at the frightening handcuffs.

"Hi, remember me?" Sherika said, thrusting her foot between Ms Americana's monster tits. She pushed the black-haired beauty back and leaned into that foot.

"Sherika," Ms Americana whispered, horror claiming her beautiful masked face. "Wait!"

"No waiting. You lost, Ameri-whore," Sherika taunted, brown eyes afire with wicked delight. "I am STRONGER than you. Your fine white ass belongs to me, now. I am your PIMP. Your MADAM. Your MISTRESS."

"You are a WHORE!" the crowd shouted with enthusiasm.

"The fight…"

"You lost," Sherika said. "You were unconscious at my feet."

"NO!"

"Yes. I even handcuffed you while you were out cold," Sherika said, grinning. "You lost. By our deal, you start working for me. Right now. Here."

"I can't, I'm a beloved super heroine."

"No, as of now you are a street whore. A working girl. A prostitute," Sherika said viciously. "MY whore, to do with as I please. Because I proved myself STRONGER than you. I defeated you, a super heroine, in a fight."

"You cheated."

"Bull. You lost."

Ms Americana stared up aghast at her new mistress. How did it happen? She was winning! Sherika was all but defeated, just requiring one or two more punches to go down for the count. Then, in a flash, everything went wrong, went awry.

She looked around the circle of humanity surrounding them. She saw half a dozen camcorders. Uncounted gaudy hookers, and everyday citizens. All looked aroused and eager to see her humiliation. Her eyes kept being drawn to the hookers, most of whom she knew on a first name basis having arrested them so often.

The hookers were scantily clad, like her, but in a much more provocative manner. A more tawdry manner. At least in her mind. But soon she would be dressing like them, laying with men, sucking their putrid cocks, spreading her shapely legs for them to…

"But….I…I can't…Great Liberty! I have to whore myself!"

Ms Americana felt her body changing. Heat infused her body as her chest tightened. Butterflies fluttered to life deep in her lower belly. Soon…

"Exactly!" Sherika said. "Finally, you acknowledge my victory, your pathetic defeat and your new station in life."

The vanquished vigilante licked dry, red lips and squeezed her eyes shut as a shudder coursed through her shapely body. She could feel their eyes undressing her. She almost felt their greedy, hungry hands on her sacred body. The body no man had EVER touched. Starting that night, any man with the cash necessary could touch her any way he wanted, as much as he wanted, wherever he wanted. She was a whore.

"Whore," Ms Americana whispered. "I am…a w-whore."

"Yes, as of now, you are the very creature you detested, you despised more than any other. A hooker," Sherika snarled.

"A street hooker."

"Yes, the lowest of the low," Sherika said. "You were DEFEATED by a street whore, making you lesser, making you beneath me. Making you MY whore, my working girl."

"I lost the fight," Ms Americana whispered, aghast and confused. "I LOST."

"That's right, Ameri-bitch," another hooker crowed. "Now Ms Americana is a street walker, a PROSTITUTE!"

"Yep," Sherika said. Then a steely glint filled her gaze. "Get to work, Ameri-hooker."

Sherika moved back a step. Ms Americana struggled up to her knees. She took a moment to tug futilely at the handcuffs.

"I can't…ugh…work with these on."

"Sure you can, but it might prove difficult to collect you money," Sherika said, grinning. Then she motioned to another hooker, who hurried over and unlocked the cuffs. "There. Stand up."

Casting resentful looks all around, she slowly rose to her feet as she rubbed her sore wrists. Then she paused to rub her aching twat, not recalling being hit there.

"Now what?" she asked.

"You have been terrorizing us long enough to know the drill, Americana," Sherika said. "You know everything there is to know about how we operate. You have to in your former line of work. So, find a john and turn a trick." She pointed at a young Hispanic man with a camcorder. "He will recorder your entire first trick from start to finish, for all posterity."

"An honor, I'm sure," Ms Americana said, slanting a withering gaze on the young cameraman.

Ms Americana took a deep, steadying breath. She was a superior woman, forced into an unsavory life. But she would not show them any weakness, any more hesitation.

"Anyone want a…um...anyone want a DATE with…me?" Ms Americana choked out, feeling bile burning her throat the second the words began coming out.

"ME!" a tall, familiar middle-aged man cried. He was burly and completely hairless. His name was Jack O'Bannon. She met with him as both Brenda Wade and Ms Americana about cleaning up this neighborhood. He was the president of the new home owners' association that was trying to run the hookers, pimps and drug dealers out of their neighborhood. "I'll be first."

"Jack? You?" Ms Americana gasped, baby blues wide in shock. "But…but, we're friends. I am here to help you. Why?"

"Why? I've ALWAYS wanted to fuck you!" he said, clearly hungry to start. "God, everyone, good and evil, wants to nail that fine round ass."

"Good answer," Sherika said. "I like it. The leader of the people that talked you into coming here will be the one that puts paid on your hooker ass. Do it."

"Fifty dollars," Ms Americana said quietly.

He pulled the money out of his wallet as he rushed to her side. Ms Americana took the two twenties and a ten with a heavy heart, trembling hands and tight chest. She folded the bills and stuffed them down her top.

"Follow me," Ms Americana said, turning on a tall stiletto and marching off towards the sleazy motel the hookers used.

The Shady Grove Motel was a sixty-three year old, wooden structure. Two stories, it was a large square with all the rooms opening in the middle. A dirt filled pool sat in the middle of the square. The office opened onto the entrance. It was drive through. Ms Americana and Jack walked up.

"Get a room," she told Jack.

While Jack hurried over to pay for a room, the young man with the camcorder moved up close to Ms Americana and got close ups of her barely hidden anguish and deep humiliation. After all, everyone had followed them over.

"Are you fucking crazy!" Harry Getty, the motel manager and owner, cried. "That's Ms Fucking Americana! You pay for a room, we BOTH go to jail. It's a sting, moron. Run."

"No, it isn't," Jack said, again, losing patience. "Listen, moron, Ms Americana has been DEFEATED. Beat up and cast down in the gutter. Ms Americana has agreed to be a hooker, a whore."

"Then she isn't the real Ms Americana," Harry said.

"Great Liberty!" Ms Americana cried. "I'm Ms Americana. The Queen of Justice. Now I am a whore. Get used to it, for I am working this neighborhood for the foreseeable future. Now give him a room so I can finish my ultimate humiliation and be done with it."

He gawked at her a long minute. She had hauled his fat butt into jail five times. He knew her and her voice. Ms Americana could see he was convinced now. Jack got his room. Twenty dollars. She understood that the room he received would be hers the rest of the day. After Jack, each john she brought in would pay twenty dollars, but she'd get ten of it back as she left. It was a sweet deal for both, since there was another motel within walking distance she could use instead if necessary.

"Room 203," Jack said.

"Second floor, great," Ms Americana said. There were thirty rooms in the motel, not counting the office and owner's small quarters. Fifteen on each level. 101 through 115 on the bottom floor. 201 through 215 on the second. "Follow me."

Ms Americana led them up the rickety stairs and down three doors. Room 203. The door was unlocked and window open. No air condition. Filthy curtains covered the window, originally white, now brown and stained. Inside, the hardwood floors hadn't seen polish in fifty years, or the walls paint in that time. There was a stained toilet that never completely stopped running, a small pedestal sink, a much repaired chair and a twin sized bed. The bed sheets were brown and yellow stained. Bile scorched her throat when she spotted them and knew she was about to lie atop them.

"Welcome to debauchery at its lowest," she muttered, unconsciously going into a super heroine pose just inside the door.

"Party time," Jack said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, just below her 44DDs.

Ms Americana froze at his touch. She knew it was coming, but was shocked despite everything. She didn't know what to do, what to say. So she just stood there while he buried his face in he fragrant hair and nuzzled her neck.

The fire was ignited.

"Oh," she groaned low.

His hands came up and cupped her tits, squeezing them firmly.

"Big uns," he said, licking his lips. "Daddy like."

"Yes, big tits," she said, squirming out of his grasp. As a young socialite, she learned quickly how to avoid and escaped from the unwanted embrace of horny millionaires. "I know. Let's get in bed and get this over with."

"Eager, aren't you?" Jack said, eyes dropping to her heaving 44DDs. "Take off your top."

"Of course," she said, reaching up for the snap between her tits. The men all wanted to see the tits. Especially hers. That insatiable hunger for titty flesh was once her most alluring weapon against crime, distracting almost all of her male foes. Now it was her best asset in animal attraction. "Everyone wants to see my tits. Enjoy."

Ms Americana unsnapped the strapless top and pulled it away. She felt her 44DDs drop and bounce before Jack's slack jawed gaze. After a moment, she reached for his belt and started undressing him.

"Idiot men," she grumbled.

While Ms Americana stripped him, Jack reached up and cupped her perfect white globes of titty flesh. He was awestruck, as were the hookers and cameraman watching from the door and window.

Jack's pants dropped quickly. With him mauling her titanic tits, it took a little more work to get his shirt off. Then she dropped low and pulled his boxer down his hairless legs, asking him to step out of them.

Jack's cock leapt up at her as the boxers dropped. She ignored it until she had to do something with it. But once his clothes came off, Jack was eager to begin. He practically dragged her onto the bed. After rolling her over his body and onto her back, Jack quickly pulled her bikini bottoms off.

"Oh, yes," Jack moaned as he buried his face in her mountainous tits.

She expected some foreplay, but Jack was too aroused, too eager. He rolled atop her within two minutes, spread her legs wide and guided his cock up to her tingling pussy. Only her reaching down and grabbing his cock stopped him from plunging right in.

"I'm a virgin," she whispered. "Be gentle. Please."

"Oh God, it gets even better!" Jack said.

"Yes," she said, grimacing. Then she reached down to her cunt and gently tugged the slippery folds loose. Then she took him in hand and guided him into her body. "Go slow and savor the moment of my defilement, you two-faced bastard."

She didn't care if he savored or not. She didn't want a violent deflowering. She'd endured enough pain and humiliation already.

"Oh," Ms Americana gasped as he penetrated the outer folds. "That's it, slow and sweet." She bit her lower lip as he slowly pushed into her vagina. He was only average, she knew, but he felt ENORMOUS pushing into her. She was astonished her body would spread so wide. Then when he started a pumping action, she started unconsciously grunting with every firm, demanding thrust. "Owww."

Ms Americana didn't know that at that very moment the cameraman was zooming in, going between Jack's cock pumping into her pussy, and the beatific look on her face. Her full red lips were pursing and forming O's as she gasped and groaned, felt unknown pleasures for the first time. Soon, both red gloved hands were clutching at Jack's back as he pushed against her Hymen.

"Push!" Sherika command. "Violate her. Fuck her. Deflower the prettiest flower in superheroinedom."

And he did.

"Aaaiiee," she cried, digging her fingers into his back, then began sucking on his shoulder. "Eeewwww. Aahhhhh. Great Liberty, I….uh…never knew….ohhh."

That tingle mixed with heady heat suddenly flamed up. It was like a wave of pure fiery pleasure welled up from deep within and engulfed her. She arched her back and straightened her long shapely legs, forming a large V with Jack humping her enthusiastically in the middle. She knew she was trying to maximize her own pleasure, and knew it was wrong. Knew it was bad. Bad for her. But she couldn't stop herself.

"Great Liberty! Yes," Ms Americana cried when his pumping increased. "Ohhh, Jack!"

Her world began to spin. Pleasure consumed her. It was too much. She wasn't used to it, so had no defense against it.

"I'm drowning," she gasped, feeling the tingly heat change to something better, something more scary. Something she dreaded and eagerly awaited. "I can't…believe…oh, so good…Oh, Jack! Jack! I'm…I'm….Cummming!"

Ms Americana felt a liquid heat of pure erotic pleasure erupt deep in her belly, and rush out to consume her, body and soul. She couldn't stop it if she wanted to. So all she could do was throw her head back, arch her back and scream her pleasure.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Oh! Oh! I'm…CUUUMMMIIIINNNGGG!" she cried. "Great Liberty, yes! YES! YES!"

"Oh, can't stop….ahhhh," Jack groaned, and released his cum deep inside. "I did it! I was Ms Americana's first man and first trick. And I deflowered her and made her CUM."

When he pulled out, the cameraman zoomed in to get a shot of creamy white cum oozing out of her violated and debauched snatch.

"All right!" Sherika crowed. "Ms Americana is officially a working prostitute, with a trick under her power belt, so to speak." She looked down on her prize with deep satisfaction. "Amber, tell the men that anyone that wants a shot at Ms Americana should line up outside the motel office. Fifty dollars a shot, plus rent. We have some final business to attend to, then she will take on all comers."

Sherika hustled everyone out.

"Final business?" Ms Americana said, finding herself alone with Sherika, Jack and the cameraman.

"Yes," Sherika said, then pointed at Jack's sticky, semi-flaccid cock. "Suck and lick him clean. Now."

Frowning, Ms Americana crawled to the edge of the bed and knelt there. She took his cock in hand and started licking the sticky, slimy thing. At first, she was the most disgusted she'd ever been in her life. Halfway through, though, she was licking and sucking with enthusiasm, enjoying the taste, stench and feel of his cock and balls in her mouth.

Of course, Jack quickly grew hard and rigid. After ten minutes of enthusiastic sucking and licking, she felt Jack was about to explode in her mouth. Sherika was obviously waiting for that, so Ms Americana continued, expecting to find this some kind of lesson whores had to learn.

As he neared climax, Sherika saw the signs and moved behind Ms Americana. She pulled the debauched super heroine's long, lustrous black hair back to give the camera a good shot of her face, cock sliding in and out, in and out, with an occasional twirl of her hot, pink tongue around the head or up and down the shaft. Then as he cried out and Ms Americana's cheeks ballooned, full of cum, Sherika reached across the heroine's face and seized the mask.

"Ms Americana is….!" Sherika cried.

To Ms Americana's ultimate shock and surprise, her mask was pulled off in a split second. She cut her eyes at the camera, then up at Jack. She saw recognition dawn in his victorious eyes.

"Brenda Wade!" Jack cried. "Oh MY GOD!"

Shock consumed Ms Americana. She almost swooned.

Cum dripped out of her slack lips, down across her naked 44DDs. Sherika jerked her whore's head back, then kissed her long and hard. Together, they enjoyed the taste of Jack's cum and each other's lips and tongues. Then after five minutes, Sherika broke the clench and stripped out of her dress.

"Great Liberty!" the unmasked heroine cried upon seeing the strap-on dildo her mistress started to put on. It has a ten inch black dildo. "Mercy! Have mercy, mistress."

Sherika paused. "Mistress? I like it. You are my slave. You will always address me as Mistress or Mistress Sherika."

"Yes mistress," Ms Americana whispered, eyes wide as she stared at that monster dildo.

"Good girl, Brenda," Sherika said. "Now, to all fours on the bed, ass towards me. My turn to fuck you."

"Yes, mistress!"

Sherika slowly worked the thick, black dildo deep into poor Brenda's twat. The poor, pathetic Princess of High Society was quivering all over within thirty seconds of penetration.

"Tell me you are a whore!"

"I'm a whore!"

"A sleazy whore."

"I'm a sleazy whore, mistress."

"My whore."

"I'm you whore, Mistress Sherika," Brenda cried, then gasped. "Oh, I'm your…sleazy whore….MISTRESS! Oh, Great Liberty!"

"You deserve to be a whore."

"I deserve…oh…deserve it…deserve…to…be…a…whore…Oh… Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiieeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiii!"

Sherika grinned. "Yes you do."

The beautiful African-American hooker/madam pulled out of Ms Americana's ravished cunt after the former super heroine had come five times. Then she thrust the dildo up her ass hole.

"Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" she cried in horror and agony.

An hour later, Ms Americana staggered out of Room 203. She was in full costume, mask included. Sherika grinning as the cameraman followed them. Everyone watched them eagerly.

"Just a moment, boys, then Ms Americana will answer all of your darkest desires," Sherika said playfully. "She's eager to please, aren't you, Ms Americana?"

"Yes, Mistress Sherika. I love men," she said. "I love sex, and I love to please in all ways."

"Good girl," Sherika said as they left the motel and headed down the street.

A few minutes later, they stopped next to Ms Americana's car.

"Open trunk," Ms Americana said.

It popped open. Ms Americana paused, then reached in and pulled out her power belt. She caressed it lovingly, clutched it to her bosom, then dropped to her knees before Sherika. Her mistress.

"Give it to me, slave," Sherika demanded.

Ms Americana felt tears welling up. She bit her quivering lower lip. Then she slowly lifted the golden power belt up to her mistress's eager hands. The hooker turned madam snatched it out of Ms Americana's hands, a look of triumph in her dark eyes.

"Yes, my victory is complete. Without this belt, you will never have the strength to escape me," Sherika said. "Ms Americana will never rise out of the gutter to fight crime. You are mine for all time."

"Yes, mistress," Ms Americana said, head bowed submissively. "I am yours."

Sherika glanced over her shoulder at the line of waiting men. She smiled wickedly.

"Get to work, Brenda," she said. "Your work day isn't over until that line is history."

"Yes, Mistress Sherika, I understand," Ms Americana said as she rose gracefully to her feet. "All locks open." All the car locks clicked. "The keys are in the ignition, mistress. The car, like me, belongs to you now."

With that, Ms Americana headed back to her room and new career.

"Who's first, boys?" she called as she passed the office. "Suck and fuck fifty dollars, anything extra is EXTRA."

She thrust out her shapely hiney and gave it a sharp slap. Then strutted up the stairs.

"Wahoo!" they cried.

THE END