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 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: UNNECESSARY COMPETITION

By Dark One

The Legendary and Mighty Ms Americana, Delta City’s own Queen of Justice, walked across the stage to wild cheers and flashing cameras. She loved those public service gatherings. She had misgivings about beauty pageants, but she'd never met a beauty queen she didn't like. Whether they were sincere or not, beauty queens were extremely gracious, well spoken and friendly to a fault. Tiffany Goodlove should be no exception.

Delta City's newly crowned Miss Delta City, Tiffany Goodlove, was a tall, shapely blonde from a good, but lower middleclass family. Her waist-length golden blonde hair looked like spun gold, silky and luxurious. She had full lips, sapphire blue eyes and a curvy body, with a really nice rack for a beauty queen. Ms Americana wondered if maybe she had the Aphrodite gene, too.

While the Queen of Justice was decked out in her legendary strapless, flag themed bikini costume, with red calf boots, red gloves, blue choker, star-spangled blue mask, tiara and golden power belt, the newly crowned beauty queen was sight to behold in a peach colored silk dress. The skirt and bodice might be considered a bit tight by most pageant standards, but they displayed her statuesque body splendidly.

"What the…" Tiffany said, when suddenly all attention shifted from her to the newly arrived super heroine. Ms Americana's big smile was radiant and she relished the attention, of that Tiffany could tell. Ms Americana STOLE her adoring public. This was supposed to be her day, not Ms I'm-Better-Than-You. Her sapphire blue eyes narrowed as she muttered, "Ms Americana is unnecessary competition. I'm not going to spend the next year fighting her for the public's attention, love and adoration."

Tiffany Goodlove didn't grow up with wealth and privilege. She had to fight, and fight hard, for every little scrap she got in life. Therefore, she knew people. Bad people. As a plan formed in her fertile mind, she smiled with sinister delight. Ms Americana had broken up a white slavery ring just two days earlier. Everyone was still heaping praise on her for that.

<I have the perfect plan,> Tiffany thought, her smile widening and becoming just as dazzling as Ms Americana, as the sexy super heroine publicity whore turned towards her and approached. This was the press conference for the Queen of Justice to put her "stamp of approval" on the new Miss Delta City. That irked Tiffany, too. Like she needed that fat-titted bimbo's approval. Despite walking in five inch stilettos, the gorgeous super heroine moved with feline grace. <Keep oozing that sex appeal, Ameri-slut. I have a fate planned for you, with a certain poetic FINALITY to it."

# # #

Ms Americana eased through the dark shadows back stage. There was a charity concert going on out front. One of the participants was the newly crowned Miss Delta City, Tiffany Goodlove. Two of her most reliable informants said white slavers intended on kidnapping Tiffany from this event. Part of their plan was to show Delta City that Ms Americana did NOT stop their activities. They wanted to humiliate her.

The gorgeous super vixen scowled and crinkled her nose as she thought of that. First, she despised anyone trying to make her look bad. Second, she was determined nothing would happen to Tiffany. Miss Delta City seemed to be the best in years. She was bright and friendly. A perfect representative for their fair city, badly in need of some good press and good public relations, what with the city quickly becoming the moral cesspit of the East Coast.

"I'll have to deal with King Pimp and his ilk after this," Ms Americana said, adjusting her 44DDs in the patriotically themed, strapless bikini top. Then she pulled up on the matching thong bottoms, and finally tugged on her red leather gauntlet gloves. Hooking her thumbs over her golden power belt, she struck a sexy pose and waited for the white slaves to make their move. In the meantime, she could make mental plans for ending King Pimp's reign in Sugar Town. "They are destroying this city and its reputation around the world."

Meanwhile, Tiffany spotted the vivacious vigilante lurking in the shadows. She smiled, seeing her well laid plans come to perfect fruition. Before the show was over that attention whore would be bound, gagged and on her way into ignoble white slavery and sexual servitude. Everyone knew she despised white slavers, pimps and whores more than anything else in the world, and was trying to wipe them out in Delta City. Knowing she would end her career as an enslaved prostitute warmed Tiffany's heart, and made her smile with a deep sense of accomplishment.

Walking over to a stagehand, Tiffany pretended to be watching the singer on stage at that time. She was the first runner up, Heather Hayes. She barely defeated the beautiful redhead, now dressed in a form-fitting electric blue gown. Tiffany wondered if she could contrive to have Heather taken by the white slavers, too.

"Ms Americana is behind us, in the shadows," Tiffany whispered to the stagehand. "Try to take her out while I'm on stage. I want her gone before I finish my song."

"Consider it done," he said. He was a burly, bald man with a dark goatee. She watched him give a subtle signal. Before he left, he said, "Thanks for the assist. We've wanted to nail that meddlesome bitch for years."

Tiffany smiled and greeted Heather as she came off stage amid thunderous applause. She cleared her throat rather dramatically, getting the slaver's attention. She embraced Heather, and gave him a meaningful look. He got the hint and smiled. He gave a signal and chuckled as he turned away and shook his head.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm proud to present Delta City's newly crowned beauty queen," the announcer's voice echoed through the auditorium and backstage. She perked up. After stealing a smug glance back at Ms Americana's shadowy form, she put her most spectacular smile on and strode out on stage. "Tiffany Goodlove!"

Ms Americana watched Tiffany go out on stage. She couldn't see her from her position, but heard the young beauty speak a few minutes, then start her song. Then Heather Hayes stole her attention. She secretively shot Tiffany the finger, scowling and marched away towards the dressing rooms. The sexy super heroine gave her a disapproving look, and started to turn her attention away. But she spotted three men move toward the retreating beauty as one.

White slavers!

The Queen of Justice watched with baited breath as one slaver cut her off, causing her to stop in her tracks. Another slaver snuck up behind her, and covered her nose and mouth with a white cloth. <Chloroform!> Ms Americana thought with dread. She was very susceptible to that vile knock out drug. The other two slavers each grabbed an arm and held on. Within moments Heather completely relaxed and they picked her up and started carrying her away.

"Halt, miscreants!" Ms Americana cried, leaping out of the shadows. "Put that sweet girl down."

They dropped her. Ms Americana yelped as Heather's head bounced off the floor. Then fury erupted deep in her heart. How dare them disrespect that beautiful young woman! She started towards the white slavers, who were cowering away from her.

"How does it feel to be terrified?" Ms Americana sneered, baby blues flashing with smug delight. She loved to frighten evil men. Then a noise behind her alerted the vigilant vigilante. "What?"

A flash of white came out of the darkness behind her. Instantly she understood it was a chloroform soaked cloth. The white slavers thought they could catch her, too?

"Nice try, idiots," Ms Americana said, blocking that arm, then driving her elbow back into his belly. Spinning around, she pounded a powerful uppercut to his chin, and laid him out cold. "But I'll not fall so easily as that."

Another slaver raced in to tackle her, so she smashed a fist into the side of his head and sidestepped his arms. He was left sprawled on the floor groaning. She grinned at the remaining slavers. There were five. That she knew about.

"Surrender," Ms Americana said, taking a super heroine pose before them.

All of their eyes dropped to her titanic tits. As usual. She shook her head woefully. Men were so easily distracted. They all stepped back one step. Where they trying to escape? She took another step towards them, and they took another back. None of them looked all that afraid. So she took another step forward, and one of the slavers reached over and pulled the knot apart on a rope that vanished into the dark above. Almost too late she realized her mistake.

"Great Liberty!" Ms Americana cried, leaping back as a heavy sandbag crashed into the floor where she was standing seconds before. As it was, the sandbag hit her 44DDs hard, making them pop out of her top. The top fell around her narrow waist. "How dare you!"

Too late she realized they were all charging her.

"Ugh!" she grunted when a big, burly bald man pounded a right cross to her jaw. That was followed by a fist to the belly. "Ooff!" Then two fists battered her naked tits. "Ouuggh."

The battered beauty dropped low, and kicked out in a wide arch. Three of her attackers were tripped, but two others lunged in afterwards. They each seized a wrist and yanked her up and forward. They took off running, dragging her running behind. The slavers ran to either side of a support post, and smashed her face first into it.

Ms Americana staggered back two steps, and fell on her rump in a daze.

If not for the incredible strength and endurance her power belt gave her, the sexy super heroine would be out for the count, and knew it. And the white slavers were relentless, coming at her already. She caught a foot streaking towards her face, and flipped him over and away.

Rolling to her feet, Ms Americana snarled and charged the white slavers. The burly slaver came straight at her. She ducked under his punch, and kicked straight up into his chin. His feet came off the floor and he flipped complete over, to lay groaning at her red booted feet. Before she could finish him off, another slaver tackled her from behind.

He reached around, seized her huge tits in both hands, and rolled over so that she was on top. Ms Americana saw two other slavers, one on either side of her. One was holding a crowbar, and he brought it down into her belly.

"Oooff! Ugh!" the sexy Queen of Justice grunted, doubling up. They each grabbed an ankle, and spread her legs wide. Then big and burly showed up and kicked her in the twat. "Aaaiiee! Foul dogs!"

Using her super human strength, Ms Americana snapped her legs back together. She twisted free of the white slaver holding her down, and was on her feet before they understood what happened. She faced them, seething from what they'd done to her so far, four against one. Then it occurred to her, there were five slavers.

"Ha!" a man cried from behind her, and hit her in the back of the head with something very hard.

"Oouggh!" she cried, staggered. A second later he slipped a log rod between her elbow and her body, pinning her arms back. Then he kneed her in the kidneys. "Uuugh!"

The other four began to pound their fists and feet into her face, tits and belly. The Queen of Justice moaned loudly and soulfully as they beat the strength out of her shapely body. They beat her until her head began to loll around and her body hung limply from the rod under her arms.

"We did it!" the burly slaver said. "Whew! That was fun."

"Joe, get that redhead into the van," he said. "The rest of us will take care of Ms I’m-Ready-To-Be-Fucked-Now-Master. Let's hogtie this super bitch properly, boys."

"Yeah, then we can fuck her like we own her," another said.

"Because we do," another said, and they all laughed.

"Do not," Ms Americana said, and kicked out viciously. She twisted loose and escaped the rod. "I've decided not to be nice anymore, boys. You're all going down. HARD!"

Ms Americana began kicking butt. Serious butt. The statuesque super heroine was in a rage. Fury filled her, consumed her. Suddenly the slavers' leader turned and ran towards the stage. She thought of Tiffany out there, singing her heart out. The perfect hostage. So she raced after him, and caught him just shy of the stage.

She pounded his face and belly with powerful fists.

"Mercy," he begged pathetically.

Ms Americana stood up before him, fists on her well rounded hips, titanic tits thrust out, and a smug smirk on her masked face. Victory felt good. Better yet, seeing a hateful white slaver pounded into a pathetic mass of evil man meat warmed her heart.

"No mercy for you, you malicious malefactor," she declared, baby blues flashing.

"Heads up!" someone cried.

Ms Americana looked up. Too late. One of those heavy sandbags on ropes was swinging towards her. She only had half a second to process the information, and it hit her in the face.

The crowd roared when she stumbled backwards onto stage. She smashed into Tiffany and they went down in a pile amid startled shouts from the audience. Four men rushed out on stage after her.

"Ms Americana is topless!" someone in the audience cried. Cameras began flashing.

The legendary Queen of Justice didn't have time to worry about topless pictures of herself being taken. She had bigger problems. Four big white slavers, and she was feeling a bit weakened by her beating.

"Surrender now, vile white slavers, or feel the wrath of Ms Americana!" she shouted, jumping to her booted feet. They didn't, so she kicked the first slaver to reach her. Kicked him in the head, flipping him completely over. "Take that!"

The second slaver smashed into her before she finished her kick, while she was vulnerable. She was staggered, but still managed to flip him over her shoulder. The last two arrived and starting sending punch after punch. She blocked about half, but the other half struck home. They were pushing her back across the stage. She finally grabbed big and burly's wrist, and flipped him away.

"You're the last, and no one man is a match for Ms Americana!" she declared.

He swung at her head. She caught his fist, and tossed him away. That left all four on the stage around her, moaning and groaning miserably. She smiled. Everyone saw what a tough, knock down fight it was. Her reputation would only be enhanced.

"Once again, I vanquish evildoers!" Ms Americana declared to the audience.

"Oh!" Tiffany cried, startled.

Ms Americana whirled on her, expecting that fifth slaver had returned from securing Heather inside their getaway van. But she was alone, looking back behind Ms Americana with big blue eyes. And a crowbar pounded into the beautiful Queen of Justice's upper back, across the shoulder blades.

"Aaaiie," she cried, staggering forward a few steps. She turned, just in time for him to smash it into the side of her head. "Uuggh!"

Ms Americana dropped to both knees before her assailant. All strength left her shapely body. She looked up at him with big baby blue eyes, beseeching him to stop. He laughed.

The other white slavers dragged themselves to their feet as the good citizens of Delta City watched in morbid fascination. Ms Americana tried to will her body to move, especially when one of the slavers ran over to Tiffany Goodlove and pressed a chloroform cloth to her face.

"Great Liberty, I have failed," Ms Americana groaned miserably. Then she saw the slaver coming to her, pouring more chloroform into his vile cloth. "Please…mercy."

"Ms Americana, the legendary Queen of Justice is BEGGING for mercy!" their leader declared, and laughed. Then he looked down at her, contempt in his eyes. "No mercy for you."

The chloroform cloth was pressed over her face. She managed to find the strength to grab his wrists, but not the strength to save herself. The chloroform instantly consumed and overwhelmed her senses. Everything started to spin. She moaned miserably, feeling the last vestiges of her strength quickly bleeding away. Then blackness enveloped her.

Big Slaver watched as the hated Ms Americana's body slowly relaxed, then when completely limp, and finally her eye lids fluttered, eyes rolled up and she was out cold with a soft moan.

"Delta City, go tell the world that tonight Ms Americana finally fell to white slavers, and that she will finally join the ranks of HOOKERS," he shouted. "Tell the world that Ms Americana finally is the WHORE she was born to be!"

With that, the white slavers carried Ms Americana and Tiffany off the stage. No one challenged them. Pandemonium broke out in the audience. The white slavers knew the police would be there soon, so didn't waste any time.

In the van, Tiffany was hogtied and dropped next to Heather. The nineteen year old blonde beauty was still out cold, but Ms Americana was starting to come around. When one of the boys started to chloroform her back into la-la land, Big Burly stopped him.

"We want her awake for this," he said, and they all chuckled darkly as they eyed her spectacular body with lusty eyes.

The hapless heroine heard his words, but couldn't do more that groan and writhe helplessly in their tight grasps. The chloroform was still doing a number on her highly susceptible Aphrodite body. Her eyes fluttered, but she could only tell they were inside a van. She felt someone pull her thong bottoms down her mile long legs, then she was dumped face down on the hard steel floorboards.

The two captured beauty queens were on the floorboards before her, both hogtied. Heather had cum dribbling out of her completely waxed pussy. Both women's breasts were stripped, exposed to unholy scrutiny.

Four sets of hands seized her at both shoulders, and both upper thighs. She was lifted up and carried to a strange and frightening looking contraption of steel pipes and shackles.

"No, I…am…Ms Ameri….Ooooh," she protested, but was so weak still. At one end was a short pole rising out of the steel base plate the whole devices was built upon. At the top of that pole was a steel collar, and her neck was promptly placed in it, and locked down. "Wrong. I am a super heroine…beloved by…."

"Shut your trap," Big said, and stuffed a bright red ball gag in her mouth, and buckled it at the base of her skull. "That's better. Super heroines should be seen, not heard."

"No, super heroines should be fucked, not heard," another slaver offered to their laughter.

There were manacles just below the collar on that pole, and her red gloved wrists were secured in them seconds later. She understood she was almost completely immobilized. Almost completed secured, and that meant the end of her storied crime fighting career. She started kicking and bucking, trying to escape their evil clutches.

"Day late and dollar short for that, Ms A-Hole," Big said.

Together, three men seized her left leg and manhandled it into place. A fourth man snapped the shackles around her shapely leg at just below the knee and around her booted ankle. Then they did the same with the right leg. It took them five minutes to get both legs secured, and she realized with dread they were already rolling down the night streets.

The white slavers made good their escape.

"Uuummmmggghhh," she screamed into the ball gag, struggling frantically and uselessly within that sturdy bondage device.

"Look at those damn fat titties bouncing!" one slaver cried.

A second later four sets of hard, brazen hands were stroking her shapely body and silky black hair, grabbing big tits and firm ass, fingers penetrated her pussy and ass, pinched her hypersensitive nipples. Ms Americana groaned, her eyes crossed and she writhe sexily within her bonds, knowing her movements excited them but unable to control herself.

Big dropped to one knee before her, grinning with wicked delight. He caressed her soft cheeks, then traced the outline of her blue, star-spangled mask. Her baby blues grew wide as she stopped struggling, frozen with sheer terror.

"We're not going to make the mistake so many that captured you did," he said. "Those idiots before us never unmasked you." He slipped a finger under one edge of her mask. "We're not going to make that mistake. I'm going to unmask you right now."

All the white slavers crowded around in front of the bound beauty. They smiled cruelly at her, eager to finally and permanently destroy the world's premier super heroine.

"And the woman behind the legendary mask is…!" Big said, and ripped off the mask. Ms Americana gasped and froze, wild-eyed. "…is…is….does anyone recognize her?"

"Damn, she ain't nobody famous," Joe said.

<What?> Ms Americana thought. <How could they NOT recognize me? I'm very famous!>

"Fuck her," Big said, tossing the mask aside. "Damn bitch, messing up all our fun again." He gave her a seething look. "Fuck hard, boys. Tame this sexy super bitch, and we'll show the world what a natural born whore she is."

Ms Americana looked around. There was no succor to be found. Heather was still out cold. Tiffany was hogtied, struggling for consciousness. The sexy super heroine watched Tiffany's eyes flutter, open and then slowly close again. Tiffany relaxed and was out again, with the thought of, <Why is Brenda Wade allowing herself to be tied up like that, and why is she wearing Ms Americana's tiara, gloves and boots?> And then blackness.

"Me first," Joe said, moving around behind the tightly bound babe. He immediately started rubbing her bikini waxed nether lips. She groaned and wiggled her ass, trying to avoid his hated touch, but to no avail. He had full access to her most intimate and sacred places. Then she felt a chill race up her spine when he unzipped. "This is going to be soooo sweet."

"Uuuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhh!" Ms Americana groaned into the ball gag as Joe slowly pushed his thick cock into her pussy, penetrating deeper and deeper into her vagina. Other slavers began fondling her dangling, bouncing tits. "Mmmmmuuggghh."

It took all of one minute, and Ms Americana felt her body changing, felt the butterflies deep in her belly. Oh, how she hated how her treacherous body would react to sexual stimulation. The curse of the Aphrodite gene. That gene made her luscious body long for sex, hunger painfully for it. All the time, day and night. It was, in truth, the secret to her power. Her power belt needed that pent up sexual energy, that sexual frustration that made her body ache. Being sated sexually de-powered the proud super heroine. And she was afraid that was exactly what they were going to do to her.

"This bitch is TIGHT," Joe said, his voice strained as the pounded his hard cock in and out, hard and fast. He savored how she was already panting through her nose, her back arching to give him better and deeper access. She was trembling, her belly quivering. Only super heroines reacted this way. Mostly, the more powerful the heroine, the more profound their body's reacted to being raped stupid. They didn't come any bigger, any more powerful than Ms Americana. "She's already sopping wet."

Ms Americana wasn't paying any attention to his words. Her body had gone beyond the butterfly in the belly stage. Liquid heat was burning her insides away, making her weak and feminine feeling. Her resolve and will power were boiling away in that heady, frightening and wonderful feeling as it infused her entire body. Even the ability to think rationally was bleeding away, and she knew from past experience that she would go into total sex-starved bimbo mood if and when they tamed her.

<Goddess, save me! I-I can't hold it much…longer…..!" she thought, and then lost it. The orgasm exploded, ravaging her body and mind in mind-numbing pleasure and bliss. "Uuuuuuuuuugggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"And it is official," Joe said. "Ms Ameri-slut has arrived."

"Uuuuggg Eeemmmerrriiee," she cried into the ball gag. <Great Liberty! I've been tamed!"

Less than a minute later, Joe creamed her puss. Ms Americana felt him spewing deep inside her body, and climaxed twice more. Then Big mounted up. That ripped another five climaxes from her oversexed, sweat-soaked body. Once they'd all fucked her pussy into submission, Joe moved up behind her again, and shoved it up her ass.

The white slavers then ran a train on her butt hole.

The white slavers arrived at their destination before they finished reaming out her anus, but they stayed in the van until they'd all had their turns. Fair is fair.

Ms Americana was removed from the bondage device. She offered no resistance. They'd broken her. Tamed. She was too weak, body and soul, to resist. So they removed her ball gag, too.

"Look at that," Big said contemptuously as she stood between two slavers, unable to stand without them holding her up. "We did more than fuck the fight out of her. We broke the will of the world's mightiest super heroine. We TAMED Ms Americana." He grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him. "Didn't we, slave?"

"Yes, Master," she whispered hoarsely as Joe handcuffed her wrists behind her back. Her eyes dropped dejectedly. She tugged weakly at the cuffs, even pulled them to one side of her body and glanced down at them with sad, sad baby blue eyes. "I am de-powered, unmasked and tamed. I am yours."

The words, spoken from her own lips, were profound. Ms Americana gasped, clutching at her lower belly. She was so close to climaxing again. If someone would just throw her down and fuck her properly…

"My God, I've never heard a super heroine admit that!" big cried.

He grabbed her long, silky black hair, jerked her head back and kissed her long and hard. She pushed back on that kiss, and her tongue pushed into his mouth first. His hand dropped low, found her clit and started rubbing. Her reaction was immediate and profound.

"Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Great Liberty!" she cried. "Oh Goddess, my body has betrayed me! I am lost! I have surrendered my body and soul to evil men."

"Take her to the basement. Put her in the A Cell," Big said. "Put her back into her costume, and bind her up properly. We wouldn't want our biggest paycheck yet to escape. I'll be down in a little bit to start taking the sales pictures we'll post on our website."

The beautiful, statuesque Queen of Justice was led away submissively. He pulled Tiffany's head up by her hair. Her eyes fluttered open, barely. He smiled when she groaned pathetically.

"Thanks, Miss Goodlove, for Ms Americana," he said. "And for your rival, and for you, too. A reigning beauty queen gets twice what the runner up gets on the white slave market."

He smiled down at the two unconscious beauty queens. They didn't know it, but the two hated rivals were about to put on a wicked lesbian sex show. Then they would be passed around amongst the white slavers. It wouldn't take long to break them. Not long at all. But so much fun.

While Tiffany and Heather were prepped for their big sex show debut, Big went down into the basement. Ms Americana was ready. She was back in full costume, mask included. They'd also placed her in the rack. The rack was a thick wooden device, square and standing upright in the middle of the cell. The sexy patriotically themed super heroine was standing in the rack, her red booted legs a little more that shoulder-width apart and shackled to the crossbeam running behind her ankles. Her spectacular, big-titted body was unobstructed all the way up to her slender throat, where stocks were installed to hold her neck and wrists. So she was held in place, hands held up to either side of her face as if she was being robbed at gun point.

"You won't get away with this, white slaver!" Ms Americana snarled, baby blues flashing fire. "This Ms Americana swears and declares!"

"Well now, not so tame as you were a few minutes ago," he said, very pleased. The men and women that bought super heroines for their brothels, or personal use, liked them to have lots and lots of defiance and spirit. "Excellent."

"She recovers fast, boss," Joe said. "We almost didn't get her into the rack."

"She looks perfect," he said, picking up a digital camera. "Say cheese!"

Big spent the next fifteen minutes taking pictures of Ms Americana from all angles, then doing it again with her topless. Then again after taking off her bottoms. And then it got bad for the sexy super heroine when Big set down the digital camera, and picked up a digital camcorder.

They forced a butt-plug up her ass, with a long horse tail hanging off it. She was ball-gagged with a red rubber ball. Then nipple clamps were applied to her tender nipples, before Joe picked up a twelve inch blue dildo and started reaming her out royally. Of course, big recorded the whole thing.

"Now, all of these pictures and this video will be e-mailed to all of your enemies, not to mention the press and porn sites," Big said as the gorgeous heroine panted through her nose, dripping with sweat. Once again, she was tamed. He could see it in her eyes, but that wouldn't last long. "Sleep tight, Ms Ameri-slavegirl. Tomorrow morning you will be doing live sex shows on the internet with Tiffany and Heather, before we auction all three of you off tomorrow afternoon. If someone in Delta City buys you, it is possible your new master will take possession tomorrow night."

The white slavers left, laughing, and turned off the light. Ms Americana was left in the dark, in tight bondage, filled with fear, dread and her captors' cum. They left the clamps on her nipples, the butt plug up her ass and a vibrator with dying batteries buzzing against her clit. It was a very long night for the vanquished Queen of Justice.

When the lights snapped on the next morning, the slavers found the beautiful super babe wide awake and struggling weakly. Big just grinned at her like the cat that ate the canary. Then he held up the morning newspaper.

"You made the front page, Ms Big-tits," Big said. "Ms Americana Captured! And some really good pictures of you as we chloroformed you into submission. Of course the prudes at the paper put the tiniest of black spots over your naked nipples, but it just looks like you're wearing pasties. Still a great picture of your naked tits, babe."

"Uuugghhhh!" she cried in defiance, baby blues flashing

<The Goddess as my witness, I'm going to kick their evil butts good when they foolishly release me from this damn contraption,> Ms Americana thought. Then her baby blues went wide when she spotted one of them pouring chloroform into a thick white cloth. <Great Liberty, no! Not that!>

"Uuuummgmgghh," she groaned into the ball gag as they chloroformed her to near unconsciousness.

Ms Americana felt herself removed from the rack. They pulled on her beloved costume, handcuffed her wrists behind her back and she was led from the room. Half the basement was a porn video studio. Heather and Tiffany were already busy filming their third sex video.

Tiffany glanced to her left and spotted them bringing Ms Americana in. Hate filled her heart and face, as the thick, white cum of three cocks dripped down her face and off her nose and chin. Her big tits were slathered in the dripping cum, too. Every orifice of her shapely body ached from abuse all night long.

<I should've known that holier-than-thou super whore would fuck everything up,> Tiffany thought.

"Good news, Tiff," Big said. "You're sex and bondage videos are a big hit already, and most of the perverts of the world don't even know you've been captured."

"Wonderful," she said, disgusted with them and herself. "How proud you must be."

"I am. You're videos having only been on sale an hour, and already we've earned $4,200. Heather is close, with $3,800 in sales."

"How much has Ms Americana sold?"

"Nothing," he said. "We haven't made any videos worth posting. Yet. That is about to change."

Ms Americana was pushed forward. Her baby blue grew wide as she took in all of the cameras, the lighting, the two cum-stained beauty queens. Tiffany wondered why she still wore her entire costume, much less her all important power belt. But super heroines were notorious for the ease in which they are fucked into submission. And she remembered that the white slavers started on Ms Americana in the van ride from the auditorium.

<Besides, she was unmasked,> Tiffany thought, with a cruel smile curling her full lips. <Brenda Wade is Ms Americana, who would've thought? Now Ms Americana/Brenda Wade have no choice but to be absolutely obedient. I love it.>

The slavers removed Ms Americana's handcuffs. She paused to rub her wrists, looking around. Tiffany thought she looked about to attempt an escape. Tiffany couldn't allow that to happen.

"So, Master, what do you want me and Ms Americana to do?" Tiffany said, being helpful. "She could start by licking all this cum off my face and body, while Heather strap-on fucks her doggie-style." Ms Americana suddenly looked defiant. She was about to bolt. So Tiffany acted fast. "Don't fight it, Ms Americana. They unmasked you, so they know your true identity. Don't you, Master?"

That knocked the wind out of the sexy super heroine's sails. Tiffany almost laughed.

"Actually, no," Big said, frowning. Tiffany gasped and Ms Americana perked up. Both women thought, How could they NOT know who she was? "None of us are from Delta City, so didn't recognize her face." He gave Tiffany a speculative look, "Maybe you would recognize her. Take off her mask, Joe."

"No!" Ms Americana cried, and kicked Joe in the balls.

A roundhouse to Big's head brought him down, too.

Ms Americana didn't have super strength yet, but she was a martial arts expert. Tiffany watched in awe as the shapely super heroine showed why she was the premier super heroine in the country, if not the world. Slavers charged her from all directions, and she took them all down one at a time. Mostly with brutal kicks to their heads and groins. Within minutes they were all down, and a few minutes later Ms Americana had them all tied up as well.

Tiffany and Heather were free.

"Oh my God, Ms Americana, you saved us!" Heather gushed. "That was so cool how you beat them up like that. You're the best, Ms Americana!"

"Oh, please, Ms Hayes, it was all in a night's work for me," Ms Americana said. "Just remember, truth and justice will always prevail in the end."

Tiffany thought she was going to be sick. But she was free and wasn't going to be sold into sexual slavery in some third world country. Unfortunately, the Queen of Justice wasn't vanishing into sexual servitude either.

Ms Americana called the police. Soon, the white slavers were hauled away and the three beauties found themselves in a press conference. Of course, they all sympathized with Tiffany and Heather, but lavish praise was heaped upon Ms Americana. Tiffany was appalled. Didn't they see how miserably she failed at the auditorium? Due to her failure, Tiffany and Heather had endured a night of sexual use, abuse, depravity, and it was all caught on tape. They were internet porn stars now.

Thanks to Ms Americana.

It was mid-afternoon before Tiffany returned to the luxury apartment the pageant provided her as Miss Delta City. She didn't think it was all bad. After all, she was finally getting the media attention she deserved all along. The local and national pageant officials said she would not be stripped of her crown just because of what happened, and the videos of her on the internet. Now if she just didn't have to share the spotlight with Ms Americana and Heather.

But she could solve part of her problem easily enough.

Tiffany picked up the yellow pages, found the number she was looking for, and dialed. It rang six times before someone answered, thumping music in the background.

"Hello, I'm Tiffany, and you've reached The Palace," the perky girl on the other end said. The sexy beauty queen was not pleased to hear that whore born her name, as well. But she'd always been told by her rivals in school that she had a "stripper" name. "How may I assist you?"

"May I speak to King Pimp, please?"

"And you are?"

"Not important."

"The King is a busy man, ma'am," that obnoxiously perky bitch said in a condescending tone. "If you're not on the list to put through, or have something really important …"

"I know Ms Americana's secret identity," Tiffany said. "Do you think he MIGHT possibly want to know that?"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Too cool! Hold please."

Tiffany smiled in triumph. It would be so good to have the center stage to herself. And better to know that obnoxious media whore Ms Americana would be taken care of in the most appropriate manner imaginable. Both the sexy super heroine and her alter ego, Brenda Wade, were stalwart fighters of prostitution and pimps in the city. It made Tiffany all tingly inside to know King Pimp would own her rival, and debase her in the most profound manner possible. Oh yeah.

Eight hours later, just past eleven that night, Ms Americana was standing in a dark alley at the edge of the notorious red light district called Sugar Town. One of her best informants stood before her, frightened by the fury on her masked face.

"He did what?" Ms Americana growled, baby blues flashing.

"He-King Pimp, kidnapped that society girl you're looking for, Lydia Wills," He said, backing up a step. "Grabbed her in the parking lot of the university as she was heading for her car."

"And she's been forced into prostitution? You are sure about that?" Ms Americana said, taking a menacing step towards him. "Are you absolutely sure of that?"

"Oh yes. Lydia Wills is Brenda Wade's nineteen year old ward," he said. "Ms Wade is really hated in Sugar Town, so everyone is very excited by her ward getting forced to hook as a street whore over on Anita, at 69th. I've talked to several people who've hired her services today."

"I'm going to kill him!"

The red, white and blue garbed super heroine hurried back to her similarly painted car. It only took a few minutes to reach Anita Street, and a few more to race down to where 69th intersected. That corner was known to be the most active hooker corner in Sugar Town, with no less that seven hooker hotels adjacent to it. The Queen of Justice spotted her ward immediately. Lydia was leaning over speaking into a car window. She was wear a red leather halter top, black leather skirt, fishnet stockings and red stiletto calf boots.

Ms Americana hit her brakes and skidded to a stop just inches in front of that john's car. A second later she was out and dragging the man out through the driver's window.

"What do you think you are doing, perv!" she cried, shaking the middle-aged man. "She's been forced into white slavery, forced to sell her body for evil men, and YOU are supporting them by trying to HIRE her?"

"Ms Americana!" Lydia cried in distress.

She looked up to see a man known to be one of King Pimp's subcontracting street pimps. He had Lydia by the arm and was dragging her away, casting nervous looks back at Ms Americana. She smiled grimly. It would be a joy to beat the snot out of him.

Tossing the john aside, the statuesque super heroine leapt atop the john's car. Her weight caved the thin metal in a few inches, and she dragged her stiletto heels just enough to scratch the paint. Let him explain that to his wife.

"Unhand that poor young woman, miscreant," Ms Americana demanded, baby blues boring into the pimp. "Or so help me, you will suffer my ultimate wrath, Puff Master."

Puff Master was a nineteen year old African American street punk and gang banger, looking to move up the food chain. Most of his gang was in prison, so he struck out on his own. Working for King Pimp would give him the experience to go out on his own in a few years. That was until he messed with the wrong woman.

"Fuck you, Americana," he said, pushing Lydia to another young man. He took a fighting stance and glared at the Queen of Justice. "You ain't nothing special. Just a big-titted bimbo in a bright bikini and heels. I'll whip your fat ass and put you to work hooking for me, bitch. Just try me."

His disgusting and misogynistic words set her rage on fire. She did a flip off the car and landed in front of him. Before he could react she sent a left cross into his face. His feet came off the floor and he flew back against the brick wall. But he picked himself up, put on a pair of brass knuckles and came back at her.

"Not very bright, are you, pimp?" Ms Americana said dismissively.

"Smarter than you, Ms Bimbocana," Puff Master sneered.

The shapely super heroine waited, letting him get in close and commit himself. She so loved slapping pimps down to size. Pimp-slapping pimps was fun, and very satisfying. Just as he shifted slightly to pound an uppercut to her chin, she shifted as well, displaying her deep, deep cleavage at the perfect angle for him. His eyes locked on those heavy, silky-skinned and bountiful boobs. She smiled knowingly, preparing to smash a right cross into his head, and send him to la-la land.

"Ms Americana! Help!" Lydia cried from the street.

"Huh?" she said, glancing over her shoulder to see Lydia pulled into a long, black Lincoln. The expensive luxury car sped off before the door even closed. "No! Lydia!"

Puff Master's powerful uppercut pounded up into her jaw.

"Ugh!" she grunted, staggered. Brass knuckles were brutal. He connected with a combination to her body. "Uuggh."

She fell back a step. Right cross. Left cross. Fist to the belly, doubling her up. Knee to face, followed with the most powerful right, left, right, left and right crosses he ever threw, every punch connecting with her beautiful face. A final kick to the face left the legendary Queen of Justice sprawled atop the john's front hood.

Puff Master had dreamed of this night, and planned extensively. He quickly reached around Ms Americana's waist, and unfastened her golden power belt. She was de-powered. The vanquished vigilante was starting to come around, so he pulled out handcuffs and cuffed her wrists behind her back. Finally, he pulled down her bottoms, removed her top and unzipped.

"Ooooh, yes," Puff Master groaned as his long, thick cock slid deep into the legendary super heroine's super slippery snatch. Her back arched and her mile long legs wrapped around him. He grabbed two big hands full of firm titty flesh and starting humping her like mad. "This is ten times better than I imagined it would be!"

"No!" Ms Americana cried. "Must…ugh…stop….PLEASE STOP!"

Ms Americana begging. Too much for the young pimp. He lost control, and ejaculated deep inside her. It was all she could do to keep from climaxing herself, but after a moment she started calming down.

Puff Master reached up and seized her mask. She froze, baby blues suddenly wild and frightened. The pimp smiled with cruel delight, and pealed the mask off, lifting it just enough for him to see her face in full.

"Brenda Wade? Really?" he whispered, shocked and delighted. He pressed the mask back, hiding her not so secret identity once again. "Sweet. This is better than I thought possible."

Puff Master stepped back with a smug look on his face. Ms Americana slipped off the hood to her knees before him, mind reeling with all that had happened. He KNEW her secret identity.

"You won't get away with this," she whispered, her voice not strong enough to speak yet. She looked around. Eighteen people -- hookers, johns, pushers -- were standing around watching with looks of wicked glee on their faces. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Lick me clean, Ameri-whore," Puff Master commanded. "And call me, 'Master.' After you finish, then I'm going to put your fat ass to work whoring."

Ms Americana gawked up at him a long second, then at the surrounding street people. Sugar Town street people. Her mortal enemies.

"Would you prefer I tell EVERYONE who you are under that mask?"

"No!" she said, rising up on her knees. He raised a single eyebrow. "I mean, no…M-Master. I…I will do what I am told."

Delta City's premier super heroine crawled up to her new master on just her knees, hands cuffed behind her back, body stripped of top, bottoms and power belt. Helpless. Vulnerable. De-powered and unmasked. For the first time in her storied career, the might Queen of Justice felt like a slave. She was owned, and felt it profoundly.

She spent the first five minutes just licking cock and balls, giving him the best tongue bath she could. Then, without bidding, but knowing it was long overdue, Ms Americana cupped his cock in her tongue, and wrapped her full red lips around the cock head. Then locking eyes with her new master, and pimp, she sucked him deep into her mouth, her firm red lips sliding down his long, black shaft.

"Mmmmmm," she groaned, then began bobbing her head upon that cock, slurping loudly the whole time.

Her loud slurps and soft moans and groans were music to the ears of the Sugar Town street people and johns watching. Before he finally shot his wad into her mouth, Puff Master had lined up seven men wanting BJs from her, on the street. That included the john she'd roughed up for trying to hire Lydia. Before she finished, Ms Americana sucked thirteen cocks in just shy of two hours.

"Now get to work, Ms Americana." Puff Master commanded. He had returned her top and bottoms, but not her power belt.

Ms Americana went to work. She was a natural. By the time the 'work day' ended for hookerdom, she'd taken twenty men up to her room at fifty bucks a shot. That didn't count the thirty dollar blowjobs she gave in the alley. In just three hours she earned almost twenty-five hundred dollars for Puff Master.

Puff Master took her home, to Wade Manor. He then fucked her as Ms Americana, then Brenda Wade in her own bed. That all ended around nine in the morning, and he fell into sound sleep, utterly pleased and satisfied with his newest fuck toy.

Brenda crawled out of bed and stared at the sleeping, naked pimp sprawled out in her huge bed. Then she walked to a mirror and gazed upon herself in disgust.

"Goddess, the things I have to do to survive," she whispered, studying herself in the mirror. She wore a crimson silk corset, with garter hanging down and holding up black hose, and red stiletto strappy sandals on her feet. Then she glanced at her closet door, and smiled. "He's an idiot."

Brenda stealthily slipped into the closet, and through the secret door there. She dressed in her spare Ms Americana costume. He still had her one and only power belt. But he brought it with him, so she'd get that back soon enough. She hurried to the small kitchenette and opened the fridge. Inside were bottles of special drugs, each having its purpose. She selected two, and smiled.

With syringes filled with the appropriate drugs, Ms Americana slipped back out to the bedroom. Puff Master was still asleep, sprawled out face up. Even his cock was still erect and shiny with her pussy juices. With practiced precision, she jabbed both syringes into his neck, into the artery feeding the brain. Within a second he was in a semi-trance…and very mentally malleable.

Within minutes she had wiped out all memory of her secret identity, and of his time with her as her master and pimp. Others would remind him, and he would know enormous frustration not being able to recall, but she was safe from his influence and power. After that she took him back to Sugar Town and dumped him in an alley.

Then she turned her eyes on the nearby brothel, called The Palace.

"Time to put King Pimp out of business, once and for all," Ms Americana said, and headed over.

The Palace was a former high rise hotel. Ten stories, at any rate. King pimp had also expanded out to all sides until his sex business encompassed the entire block. There was areas dedicated to every kink imaginable. All twenty-four hours a day, including weekends and holidays. Ms Americana raced right up to the front door. Jumping out of her car, she ran straight into the front doors before anyone could challenge her.

There was only a single bouncer inside the front door. He was a big blonde man with too much time on his hands to lift weights. He made the mistake of underestimating her, just because she dressed like an oversexed bikini bimbo. Ms Americana seized his wrist, and twisted it behind his back.

"Where is King Pimp, right now?"

"Fuck you, Americana," he said, and tried to grab her.

So she twisted until his arm snapped. She smiled when he dropped to his knees and squealed like a ten year old school girl.

"If you piss me off again, I'll rip this arm off," she said, giving it a savage twist to punctuate her point. "Where is King Pimp?"

He pointed down the hall to her left. "He's down there, behind the black door, throwing a party."

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" she said, and smashed her fist into the back of his head. His eyes crossed, then rolled up. She released him and he fell face first to the floor, unconscious. "I appreciate you willing assistance. I promise not to forget you while I'm writing up my statement to the police."

It was near sunrise, so the halls were empty. There were very few men horny enough to seek prostitutes at that hour. The long corridor had exquisite marble floors put in from a long bygone era of elegance and refinement. Her stiletto heels clicked and clattered loudly as she walked purposely looking for the black door. She heard the party before she found the door.

Most of the doors had placards above them with the room's name. Lingerie Room. Bondage Room. Mud Wrestling Room. King Pimp's party was in the Marquis de Sade Lounge. She'd heard of it, a bar inside the Palace where leather clad waitresses brought your drinks to tables surrounding small stages with bondage furniture atop them. Palace staff worked on those stages, putting on elaborate, audience participation bondage and sex shows. For a small fee, patrons could knock out a quickly with the bound women.

Atop the centermost stage Lydia was bond tightly. She was on her knees, which were bound to the stage. A leg spreader bar was buckled around her ankles, keeping her legs wide. Blue rope was wrapped around both legs at mid thigh, binding them tightly. Her shapely ass was sticking straight up, exposing both her sphincter and pussy to sexual exploitation. Lydia as bent over so that her face was on the ground, with her arms bound at wrists and elbows, then pulled up and back by more rope running from her wrists up to a steel ring in the ceiling. Ms Americana spotted cum oozing out of Lydia's ass and pussy, running down her inner thighs.

"You sleazy bastards!" Ms Americana cried. She rushed up to Lydia and looked her over. "How dare you kidnap and sexually assault this sweet young woman!"

"Hey, she belongs to us," a leather clad dominatrix said, trying to push Ms Americana aside. "It's my turn, Americana."

Ms Americana backhanded the offensive dominatrix. She turned to face King Pimp, sitting in a throne a few feet away. He was remarkable unconcerned considering how angry she was.

"You're going down, King Pimp," Ms Americana sneered.

"No, you are," he said, and pulled out his massive black cock. "You're going to go down on this."

"How dare you!"

"Oh, I dare," he said, smiling triumphantly. "I dare mightily."

"And so do I," the dominatrix said behind her.

Ms Americana heard the riding crop whistle through the air. She tried to prepare her shapely body for the anticipated blow. It would be pain. She'd been hit with riding crops before.

CRACK!

"Great Liberty!" she cried, feeling the crop slap across her buttocks. The pain was exquisite. "Aaaaaaiiiiieeee!"

Another dominatrix slapped a crop across the front of her naked thighs. Suddenly, half a dozen riding crops were whipping every square inch of her exposed skin. And she had a lot of exposed skin. The hapless heroine crossed her arms before her face, to protect her eyes, which gave one of those wicked dominatrixes the opportunity to rip off her strapless costume top.

"Uuuuuuuuuugggggghhhhhh!" Ms Americana cried as her firm, white 44DDs bounced and quivered as riding crops rained upon them, leaving angry red stripes. "Stop it! This Ms Americana demands!"

"Why do super heroines refer to themselves in the third person?" one of the dominatrixes asked.

"Because they are self-important bimbos," another replied.

That brutal and terribly painful barrage of riding crops did not abate until the High and Mighty Queen of Justice fell to first one knee, then two. Then she curled up into the fetal position. Seconds later, a dominatrix jumped on her legs, snapping the brutalized super babe's red booted ankles into a leg spreader.

Ms Americana immediately understood she was in trouble. If they captured her she would join Lydia in prostitution. She had the Aphrodite gene, and was very susceptible to sexual use and manipulation. King Pimp wouldn't make the same mistake Puff Master did, and would keep her under tight discipline at all times. She would whore herself for him, and continue to do so for a long, long time.

The Queen of Justice snapped out of the fetal position, backhanding the woman securing her ankles. Too late. Her ankles were bound, all but immobilizing her legs. Leather sheathed dominatrixes seized both arms and dragged her away screaming. Seconds later her wrists were snapped into spreader bar, and that bar was attached to a chain in its middle. They quickly hoisted the flag themed costumed super heroine up, arms pulled up high and legs held wide.

"Great Liberty, I've been captured AGAIN!" she cried, struggling helplessly.

The worst insult of all…she was captured by sex industry BIMBOS while she was in her FULL POWER. They beat her down, then chained her up. It was beyond humiliating, and King Pimp's laughter was not helping. Then King Pimp magnanimously granted all of the dominatrixes that took part in capturing her thirty minutes each with her. And it was all caught on tape.

The sexy super heroine in bondage was whipped and spanked, then strap-on fucked front and back, That horrendous, depraved ordeal lasted two and a half hours. It was only early morning, so King Pimp unleashed his junior pimps on her until high noon came and went. Then she was blindfolded, hogtied and carried out. She was placed in a side room off the main lobby, and customers were allowed to fuck her in any orifice for five dollars a shot until six that night. Six long hours of almost constant men in her mouth, and either pussy or ass. Two at a time, front and back, most of the time. And even at a mere five dollars a quickie, she earned nearly one thousand dollars.

At six, Ms Americana was dragged before King Pimp still sitting in his throne and supervising the bondage party. Stripped down to boots, gloves, earrings, tiara and mask, she still was able to glare defiantly at her hated foe. The fact that Lydia was in his lap, facing out, his massive cock sliding in and out of her poop chute helped her muster her righteous anger.

"You filthy, depraved PIMP," she snarled.

While Lydia groaned and bounced up and down on his shaft, King Pimp turned to look the legendary Ms Americana over, head to toe. Her super shapely body was taut, spectacular and shiny with sweat from hours and hours of sexual abuse.

"Well, you look to be about ready to start working for me," King Pimp said.

"Only bounded tightly like all afternoon," she said. "I'll never WILLINGLY prostitute myself. I am a superior woman. I am above such base, depraved activities, and I cannot be forced, either."

"Lydia?" King Pimp said, smirking up at Ms Americana.

Suddenly, she was all apprehensive. Had Lydia broken under the strain of unstopping sexual abuse? Had she told them of their most closely guarded secret?

"He knows!" Lydia cried, clearly about to climax. "Oh, Goddess, mercy! Oh, shit, someone called him and told him who YOU are."

"What!?!"

"That's right," he said. "She didn't give her name. All she did was tell me that Ms Americana's secret identity was Brenda Wade. And something odd. She said you were 'unnecessary competition.' Oh well, I figured out that if you are our beloved Brenda, then that annoyingly perky sidekick of yours must be that equally annoying and perky ward of Brenda's. So we snatched up Lydia, and waited for you to walk into our trap. Easy."

Ms Americana felt weak as her world spun out of control. King Pimp knew her secret identity! She was doomed. There would be no escaping him, especially after he just announced to everyone in the room that she was Brenda Wade. Everyone was gawking at her. Then Lydia distracted her by climaxing.

"Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee! Oh Goddess," she cried. "I'm am so tamed, Master. I am you girl to command."

King Pimp kissed her long and deep, then pushed her slowly off his thick, long cock. Ms Americana grimaced as she watched that thick shaft sliding out of poor Lydia's poop chute. That had to have been painful, at least at first.

<Guess I'll find out,> she thought bitterly.

"I think earlier we discussed how you would go down on me," King Pimp said.

Ms Americana stared at him a long moment, then realization dawned. He wanted her to suck him off right then. Immediately.

"But…but….but your dick was just up her butt," she said, shaking her head NO.

"But…but…but YES," King Pimp mocked. He laughed. Giving his long shaft a couple strokes, he leered at her. "Ms Americana, suck my dick. Now. Go down on me and give me the best head, the best deep throat I've ever had, or bad things will happen to you and LYDIA."

The legendary Ms Americana, Delta City's own Queen of Justice, looked beseechingly up at the silent Heavens. But no succor was forthcoming. She knew that. Her career was over. Her life as Ms Americana, super heroine crime fighter, was coming to an end, and Ms Americana, skanky whore, was just starting.

* Ms Americana walked up to King Pimp, knelt between his legs and took his long black cock in one red-gloved hand. She gave it a squeeze and stroke, then lowered her face. First, she kissed the dickhead. She looked up and locked eyes with King Pimp.

"If you make me do this, you will be destroying something good and wonderful," she said. "You will destroy Ms Americana. This will ravage my soul, and I'll be lost."

"Perfect," he said. "Go down on me, slave."

"Bastard," she whispered, a single tear rolling down her left cheek. She kept her eye lock, lowered her lips and parted them until she made contact, then she sucked in that rubbery head. "MMmmmm."

Ms Americana gave the hated pimp head until he creamed her tongue, then she gave him deep throat until he creamed her tonsils. After that, she climbed up into his lap and mounted him. He got seven orgasms off her before he climaxed, and then turned her around and repeated up her ass.

Once he was finished with her, Ms Americana calmly dressed in her legendary costume, then went out into the main lobby. She was headed for Super Heroine Heaven, on the other side. All the former, and fake hooker, super heroines hung out there, picking up johns. Ms Americana barely made it to the main lobby before a young man in jeans and dirty t-shirt hailed her.

"I heard that Ms Americana and Flag Girl were captured, and worked in The Palace," he said.

"Word gets around fast," she said, scowling. How humiliating.

"Are YOU the real Ms Americana? Or one of the fake ones the Palace is so famous for?" he asked.

"I'm the one and ONLY Ms Americana, boy," Ms Americana said, crinkling her nose at him. He was going to hire her. Her first trick for King Pimp, the first trick of the rest of her life. "And I…I am the only one for you, big boy. You want a date with the Queen of Justice?"

"Yes!" he said, wide eyed. He looked down at her titanic tits. "Are those like 38Ds?"

She raised a haughty brow at him. "44DDs, lover. Titty fucking is extra."

"How much extra?"

"Twenty."

"Wahoo! I brought five hundred dollars, let's go up to your room and party!"

And thus Ms Americana began an equally legendary second career as a prostitute.

THE END