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. I came up with the villains.

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

MS AMERICANA: SWEETEST SURRENDER

By Dark One

“I'll shoot her!" he cried, pressing the pistol to the young blonde's head. "Stay back!"

Billy Bob Thomas stood outside the First National Bank of Delta City, with a bag of cash sitting at his feet. A pretty young blonde was held tightly in one arm, and his other hand held a 9mm pistol press to her head. Police surrounded them. Had to be fifty cops out there. It was all going to plan, too.

At forty-five, Billy Bob was a five time loser. Always robbery. The last three times he was captured by Ms Americana. And the very last time, five years back, she'd spent five minutes beating the bloody snot out of him.

Payback was a mother fucker.

The news stations showed up then. Within moments a dozen cameras were aimed his way, recording everything for a dozen angles. He could just hear the murmuring of the on scene reporters, giving their dire take on the situation. Leave it to the media to ramp up everyone's tension and fears. And as if on cue…

"It's Ms Americana!" someone cried.

"Well, well, imagine that, Delta City's premier busybody showed up AFTER the news crews setup," Billy Bob muttered, smiling darkly. He paused to admire her as she ran up the street. Six foot one, statuesque with a 38G rack that bounced enticingly when she ran, narrow waist and well rounded hips. A body born to please. "I think she's even hotter now than five years ago. I'm digging the strapless top."

"Help me! Help me, Ms Americana!" the pretty hostage cried, face soaked with tears. "I don't want to die!"

"Fear not, citizen, Ms Americana is here," Ms Americana said, coming to a halt next to the police negotiator. Then more quietly to the policeman, "What's the situation, Harry?"

"Billy Bob Thomas, a forty-five year old white male. He's been convicted five times for armed robbery, and has spent more than half his life in prison," Harry said.

"I know all about Billy Bob, Harry. I sent him up the river the last three times. I want to know how we got into the current predicament."

"That's easy," he said. "Billy Bob took too long inside, and we were waiting out here when he stepped out with his hostage."

"Seems suspiciously sloppy of him," Ms Americana said, eyeing the old enemy with his hostage. The hostage was prettier than she first thought, and maybe a bit older. She was still only in her late twenties, early thirties. Billy Bob looked taller than she recalled, but also thinner. His dark hair was cut short, spiked and had almost as much gray as brown. He hadn't shaved in at least a week, and that growth was starting to turn his mustache and soul patch into a proper beard. While the woman wore a red top, white mini skirt and red heels, Billy Bob wore loose jeans, a flannel shirt and work boots. "Billy Bob always planned everything out to the nth degree. He just never factored in super heroines, and that was his downfall every time."

"I know. I think Billy Bob wants to be caught," the negotiator said. "He's been out six months, and has had five jobs. More than half that time he was unemployed. So I think he wants to go back to what he knows, and it making it happen with a hostage this time. That will pretty much ensure he spends the rest of his life in prison."

"I think you're right, Harry," Ms Americana said. "I'm probably not even needed here."

"No, we have -- "

"AMERICANA!" Billy Bob cried. He sounded angry. "I want to talk to you. No one else."

"Why?" the negotiator said. "I think I can help you best, Mr. Thomas."

"No. I trust Americana," he said. "I know she's a stupid, self-righteous glory whore, but her word is set in stone. If she says something, it will be so."

"Glory whore, so true," a cop behind Ms Americana snickered.

The super sexy super heroine felt her blood pressure rise. Those inept cops had no right to belittle her. If they did their jobs she wouldn't have to dress up in costume and mask and do it for them. But it wasn't about her or them, it was all about saving that poor hostage.

"Let me talk to him," she said.

"But of course," Harry the negotiator said, throwing up his hands. "Why should today be different?"

"Can I help it if I have that special touch?" she said, shrugging. She grinned at the negotiator. "Don't worry, Harry. I'll save the woman. I'll do whatever is necessary to save her. Her safety is my only concern."

"I'll shoot her if Americana don't talk to me now!"

"Out of our hands, Harry. I have to go talk with him," the vivacious vigilante said, grinning. Then she turned to Billy Bob, and her smile melted into a sneer. "What do you want, Billy Bob? You're usually too smart to take a hostage."

"I blame advancing years, Americana," he said. "Come over here, I don't want to shout the whole time."

"Sure, why not," she said, striking out on a sassy strut that got everyone's attention. She smiled to see Billy Bob's eyes locked onto her jostling tits, as she planned. Get the miscreant confused, horny and then take him down. She'd done this a thousand times. Her sharp stilettos popped loudly on the hard concrete as she approached. "I'm here. Now what?"

"I think you should kneel."

"Oh, Billy Bob, that won't get you anything," Ms Americana said, annoyed. Kneeling would put her in a submissive position. The news media would have a field day with that! Her enemies would put the video on continuous loop and whack off to it. Even some of her "friends" would enjoy seeing her kneel before a man. But she did raise her hands up like on the movies. "Let the woman go, Billy Bob. You have me, after all."

"Ha, I might be old, but I'm not senile," Billy Bob said. "That pretty gold power belt protects you from bullets. If I let this pretty young thing go, then you will attack. I'll have no defense, no bargaining tool." He leered at her, eyes locked on her titanic tits. "I said KNEEL."

"You won't shoot her," Ms Americana said. "You need her."

"If you're not going to give me what I want, then I might as well kill her," Billy Bob said. "This state abolished the death sentence, so whether I kill her or not, I'm a five time loser so will spend the rest of my life in prison." He noticed a bit of fear entered Ms Americana's baby blues as she glanced at the hostage. "Kneel, or be responsible for her unnecessary death."

"You'll pay for this, Billy Bob," Ms Americana hissed, but slowly dropped to her kneels. He made her hold her hands up, too. She felt her spectacular body start to tingle, her twat getting moist and hot. And it was just a little bit harder to breathe. After all, there had been very few times in Ms Americana's storied career where she was forced to kneel and did not give someone a blow job. And Billy Bob had a massive hard-on bulging his pants. "Okay, I'm kneeling. Let her go, and we'll continue from there."

"Take off your top," he said with a husky voice and leering eyes.

"Wait one -- "

"Take it off now!" Billy Bob cried, starting to shake.

Ms Americana gawked up at him. His hands were shaking violently. She was afraid he would accidentally pull the trigger. The sexy super heroine gulped, looked around at all of the gawking, open-mouthed police and witnesses, all of the CAMERAS, and felt her traitorous body fill with rioting butterflies. Her tits began to tingle, especially her now hard and erect nipples. Her pussy was aching so bad she fought the need to squirm.

"Okay, Billy Bob, calm down. I'm taking my top off," she said, removing it slowly. Unfastened, she held the breast cups over her 38Gs with both hands, looked up at Billy Bob, but watching the gun. Then she suddenly whipped the top away, and her monster melons dropped and jostled before everyone's stunned eyes. She was ready to pounce, but he only gasped and groaned, and the pistol never wavered. She so wanted him to forget himself, and unconsciously move the pistol away from the woman. He didn't. Now she was kneeling, topless, and growing hornier by the moment. Not good. "There. Better?"

"Yes. Now play with them."

"What?"

He lashed out with a foot, and kicked her right tit. "I said play with them."

"Oh, you vile little man," the legendary Queen of Justice hissed. Baby blues flashed, but red gloved hands reached up and cupped her perfect pair. She started to kneed them, rolling the nipples between thumb and forefinger. "Uuummmmm."

"Yeah, that's right, Ameri-whore. Play with those big, juicy titties," Billy Bob said, transfixed by the sight.

Billy Bob started giving her directions. Lick the nipples. Pinch and pull them. Bounce her tits. Shake them, harder, harder. He directed her humiliation for fifteen minutes, until she was panting and sweat rolled down her curvaceous body, coming not from exertion, but from arousal. Billy Bob spent the last five years in prison studying super heroines in general, and Ms Americana in particular.

"Now, with your left hand continue playing with your tits, but I want your right hand to slide up under your panties and start rubbing your clit," Billy Bob commanded.

"I can't! I'm a figure of virtue and abstinence to millions of young women," Ms Americana said. "If I do that, it's masturbation. Almost like sex, and it would be wrong and set a bad example."

"Exactly," Billy Bob said, grinning. "Get it on, Ms A-Hole."

"Great Liberty, what have I gotten myself into this time," Ms Americana cried. She swallowed hard, feeling her hot, sweaty body quivering in suppressed sexual tension. That sexual frustration, built up over years of enforced abstinence, was the secret of her power. Her belt relied on it to fuel its power, and thus super charge her spectacular body with strength and endurance. Because of that, her fragile libido was like a tightly wound up rubber band, ready to snap at a second's notice. She wanted to refuse, but he pressed the gun harder into the woman's cheek. Hand trembling, she slipped her right hand under her red, white and blue panties and found her engorged, hyper sensitive clitoris. A jolt of pure, unadulterated erotic pleasure ripped through her shapely body. She tried to rub it in a way that wouldn't force her to climax, but her fingers acted on their own. Ms Americana was rubbing her clit hard, perfectly to ensure a quick and powerful orgasm. Her baby blues half closed, head rolled back and she groaned wantonly. "Uuuuuuggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh. My Goddessssssss."

"We got her, baby," Reba Jo whispered in his ear. "That pretty little rose is ready to pluck."

Ms Americana was quickly oblivious to the world around her. The crowd around them gasped and cried out. They were scandalized, aroused. Gleeful eyes watched their most beloved super heroine masturbate on the street before them. They grew more and more excited as Ms Americana did, her hand moving faster, more frantically the closer she grew to ultimate pleasure. She started whipping her long, silky black hair around, back and forth, up and down, as she grew closer and closer, and lost complete control of her wits.

"Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Oh, yes! Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeee!"

"Very good, Ms Americana," Billy Bob said cheerfully. "You're doing well. Just a little bit more, and then we can bring this to an end."

Panting, sweat rolling off her face, down her titanic tits and down her flat belly, the sexy super heroine looked up at him with heavy lidded, masked bedroom eyes. Her full red lips were slightly parted, glossy and kissable.

"What more could you want from me?" she said quietly, breathily. "You've humiliated me in public, on camera. You forced ME to humiliate myself. This will be all over the internet within a few minutes. If you wanted revenge for me sending you to prison, then you got it."

"Ah, but I haven't got my rocks off yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Suck my dick, Americana."

He moved Reba Jo to his side, the gun still pressed against her. That left his zipper available. Ms Americana stared at it a long second, knowing she had no choice. Did it even matter? She was already utterly humiliated. And if she failed now, and the woman was killed, then it would end her career. So the super sexy super heroine CRAWLED up to Billy Bob, rose up on her knees, and unzipped him.

"Oh my, you're big," Ms Americana said, licking her full red lips in anticipation. She looked up, locking eyes with him as she wrapped a hand around his thick shaft and gave it a firm stroke. "After I do this, you promise to release the hostage?"

"I promise," Billy Bob said. Ms Americana nodded acceptance and parted her glossy red lips, moving them closer and closer to his dick head. He stood mesmerized as those perfect, full red lips pressed against the head of his cock, and then enveloped it. "Oooooooohhhhhh. I've waited a long time for this."

With her tongue and lips Ms Americana gave him intense head for a long time.

"Oh, she's a slurper," Reba Jo said, grinning evilly.

Ms Americana's body was afire again. Heck, she never really had a chance to recover from the forced masturbation and orgasm. As cameras recorded every torrid second, zooming into get the "money shot" and watch her "technique." She didn’t care, or even realize any of that was going on. The curvaceous beauty was lost in her own lust and needs, totally consumed with that cock in her mouth.

"I told you, baby, once a super heroine started having sex her brain goes south and she becomes an oversexed sex machine," Billy Bob said.

"I believe you now," Reba Jo said. "Wow, look at her go. She's good."

"She's the best, baby," Billy Bob said, and laughed at Reba Jo's angry look.

"Mmmmmgggggggggggguuuuuggghhh," Ms Americana groaned, climaxing.

"Damn, she even has orgasms giving BJs? What a raging slut," Reba Jo sneered.

"Take her belt off now," Billy Bob said. He kept the gun aimed at Reba Jo as she moved behind Ms Americana, bent over and unfastened the golden power belt. She pulled it off the vanquished vigilante, rolled it up and gave it to Billy Bob. He threw it as far as he could, and pulled Reba Jo back into her "hostage" position. "Now she is completely de-powered and helpless as a newborn kitten."

"Hhhhhhhhhggggggggmmmmmmmggggggghhhhh!" Ms Americana groaned out another orgasm.

"She's just a brainless, cocksucking bimbo now," he said. "See?"

Ms Americana sucked him for ten minutes before Billy Bob creamed her mouth with lots and lots of hot cum. She swallowed every drop, without prompting, then licked his cock and balls clean. After she stuffed him back in to his pants, and zipped up, he seized her hair at the back of her head. She was pulled to her red booted feet and bend backwards, hands still held up.

"I'm taking BOTH of my hostages and leaving now," Billy Bob said, now pressing the pistol into Ms Americana's neck. The police just stood there gawking at him. He smiled. "Here's another little treat for the people and the press to discuss."

Billy Bob reached up and pulled off Ms Americana's blue, star-spangled mask.

"Brenda Wade?" Harry the negotiator cried. "Oh my fucking God!"

"Great Liberty, I've been UNMASKED! I am RUINED!"

"Yes you are, babe," Billy Bob said. "If I see anyone, or even THINK anyone is following us, Wade buys a bullet in the brain."

The three of them shuffled slowly over to Billy Bob's battered, blue 1995 Oldsmobile. It had more primer than paint, but it was paid for. Reba Jo took the wheel, and Billy Bob forced Ms Americana into the back seat with him. A second later, they peeled out and headed for the hills.

Billy Bob immediately unzipped and patted Ms Americana's sweet round ass.

"Mount up, Americana," he said, grinning evilly. "It's a LONG ride to our hideout."

"Oh my," Ms Americana whispered. She straddled him, guided his cock to her pussy and mounted it. Her lips parted and her head rolled back as she slid down his thick shaft. "Ooooooooh, yes. Oh yes."

She placed her hands on his shoulders, locked eyes and started to ride. Hips swaying and gyrating, sliding up and down, boobs bouncing, the vanquished oversexed heroine gave her captor all he wanted and more. She really couldn't help herself, and she enjoyed it much more than he did, too. When he started fondling her titanic tits she groaned with wanton pleasure.

"We did it, Billy Bob," Reba Jo said, watching Ms Americana fucking her lover in the rearview. "When are we going to switch out so I can enjoy her body?"

"Every hour, babe. Four hour trip, two hours each," he said with a strained voice, enjoying every second of his new sex slave's performance.

"Kiss me," Ms Americana said breathlessly, leaning in and tilted her head. Their lips met, pressed hard, and started to slide all over each other. Soon tongues pushed in deep, from both sides. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmghhhhhh!"

As Ms Americana, the greatest and most beloved super heroine known rode the five time loser into the sunset, Billy Bob savored his victory. He knew her well enough, had studied her to the nth degree, so once they got to their mountain hideout, the training of Americana would begin. By the end of the week, Brenda "Ms Americana" Wade would be his absolute sex slave, with no other thoughts but to please him and Reba Jo.

"Ah, the sweetest surrender of them all, hey Ms Americana?"

THE END