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

Ms Americana is the creation 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: WORKING GIRL

By Dark One

Ms Americana laughed as she leapt over the passing car, and continued running into the dark alley. King Pimp was on the run. The first night of Delta City's super heroine's anti-prostitution operation, called The Purge, was coming along nicely.

"Give it up, King Wimp!" Ms Americana cried, enjoying corrupting a bad guy's name instead of the other way around. "You cannot escape the righteous fury of Ms Americana!"

He was only after twenty feet ahead of her and she was closing fast. The tall, black-hair super heroine ran as fast as track stars, even in her five inch red stiletto boots. Her frantically bouncing 38Gs were hardly worth noticing, after years of chasing criminals through the crime-ridden streets and dark back alleys of Delta City. She got used to their heavy bouncing years ago. Though, there was a real fear her tits would bounce out of her strapless, red, white and blue top, with its matching thong bikini bottoms. It had happened before. More often than she liked to think about.

King Pimp rounded a corner up ahead, and she heard a loud thump and bang, like he ran into a trash dumpster head on. She laughed and ran harder. The super sexy super heroine rounded that corner at a full run, intent on jumping on the despised pimp before he recovered. Instead she found King Pimp swinging a foot long length of steel pipe at her face.

"Ha! Missed," she cried, ducking.

"Not!" he cried, and brought the pipe back and into the back of her head.

"Ugh!" she cried, falling to all fours.

"Perfect," King Pimp said. He pulled out a cell phone, flipped it open and clicked on video record. Setting it on the dumpster, he aimed it at Ms Americana on all fours, shaking her head. Then he walked over and whacked her on the back of the head again. The legendary Queen of Justice collapsed with a groan at his feet. "And so falls the Mighty Ms Americana."

"Oooooh, where am I" she groaned in a tiny baby voice.

"Hello, little girl, what's your name?" King Pimp said, grinning. He didn't expect an answer, but he got one.

"Brenda."

He froze. Glancing at the camera phone, he cleared his throat and asked his next question.

"Brenda what?"

"Brenda Wade," she said. "Oooooh, my head hurts."

"Heroine down!" Lady Midnight cried from the rooftops.

Two cars turned into the alley. Green Spectre was driving the one behind him, Flag Girl the one coming from straight ahead. He had no time. And no choice. King Pimp picked up his cell phone and left Ms Americana groaning on the ground.

# # #

"Interesting," King Pimp said, reading the newspaper. He sat upon his throne, in his penthouse apartment high above Sugar Town. He wore only a red silk robe, and it was open. "Brenda Wade was emitted to the hospital late last night. According to this news report, the sexy socialite slipped in the shower and hit her head. She has a concussion. So sad."

"Couldn't happen to a better person," Bethany said.

Bethany Beavers was a former Playboy Playmate of the Year, King Pimp's number one girlfriend and the hostess of his largest brothel, The Palace. The gorgeous redhead was wearing a black satin Playboy Bunny costume, complete with ear and cotton tail. Kneeling between King Pimp's thick legs, her head was bobbing up and down his massive cock.

"Send her flowers," he said.

"Really?"

"Yes," he said, grinning. "Sign them, ' Cocks and sloppy kisses, your adoring pimp, King Pimp.' Ensure she gets them first thing today."

"Ha! She not going to like that," Bethany laughed. "She'll probably burst a blood vessel in her brain."

He smiled. Yes. She probably would. Especially if she remembered what he asked, and how she answered.

# # #

Two weeks later…

Brenda Wade was enjoying lunch with business associates at a swanky uptown restaurant -- Big Wigs. It was going great. She'd finagled a great deal that would net Wade Enterprises incredible profits over the next five years. The three middle-aged business men sharing the table with her were one and all befuddled by her presence. That presence was more than a little enhanced by the blue silk dress she wore, that hugged every curve of her spectacular body.

"Oh my God," one of the men said. They were all out of towners, so they didn't recognize the man that just strode into the restaurant like he owned it, trailing three buxom beauties. Three scantily clad hookers, blonde, redhead and brunette. "He looks like a pimp."

"He is a pimp. King Pimp, to be precise," Brenda said, scorn dripping off every syllable. "I'll go speak with management. If they continue to allow such riffraff to patronize their establishment, then I will have no choice but to dine elsewhere."

Brenda stood up and headed towards the back. She went straight into the kitchen, and looked around for the owner, Andre. He was no where to be found, and the kitchen staff was no help.

"You men are worthless buffoons," she said. "I want to speak to Andre now, and I mean now!"

"Problem, Brenda?" King Pimp said from inches behind her.

"You!" she cried, whirling around to face the hated pimp. "I have no interest in speaking to the likes of you, pimp. I came back here to complain about your patronage of this place."

"Really? But my love, didn't you get my flowers? I am truly sorry," he said, confusing her.

"Yes, I got the flowers -- apologize?" she said, now completely confused. The flowers were offensive enough, implying that she was one of his working girls.

King Pimp lifted a camera phone before her face, and clicked a button. A video started. Ms Americana on her knees. Brenda gasped, barely remembering that incident two weeks back. She was already planning her revenge. She winched when he struck her over the head. Baby blues blazing, she clenched her fists and tried her best to not deck him. Brenda was not violent. Ms Americana would kick his big black butt later that night, though.

The volume was so low only she could hear it. Her eyes widened when she heard him ask her what her name was. She answered "Brenda." Her face started burning. Did he know? It would be too humiliating if he did, and her doom. Then he asked, "Brenda what?" Brenda gasped, heart hammering. "Brenda Wade."

"No! Wait," she stammered. "Th-there's some confusion."

"On you're part," King Pimp said, pressing up closer.

Brenda backpedaled, but he continued to press up against her. She was stopped by a preparation table. She looked around wildly, and found the kitchen staff watching, but pretending to ignore them. They weren't going to stop anything, much less help her.

"It's all very clear in my mind, Brenda," King Pimp said, leering down into her cleavage. He lifted her chin, enjoying the way her baby blues widened, and her glossy red lips trembled ever so slightly. He reached up and unfastened her lustrous black hair, piled atop her head, and let it cascade across her shoulders and down her back. "You have long, glossy black hair, and so does Ms Americana," he whispered. He pulled off the glasses she didn't need. "You both have expressive, baby blue eyes." He pushed her dress off her shoulders, and pulled it down to her narrow waist, exposing a lacy black bra and deep cleavage. "And those puppies look like a match to Ms A's infamous 38Gs."

His huge hands wrapped around her waist, and lifted her up onto the preparation table, legs hanging off. Then he lifted her skirt to reveal pantyhose, but no panties. His thick finger ripped through that with ease, exposing her bikini waxed snatch.

"No, please, you're making a big mistake," she muttered, mind awhirl and too dazed to know what to do.

"Oh, Brenda, our love knows no bounds," King Pimp said loudly. He yanked off her bra, releasing her 38Gs to bounce and jounce for all to see and enjoy. And the kitchen came to a halt, as the men just gawked open-mouthed. "I hate all this hiding and wild sex on the side."

He unzipped and pulled out his massive, black cock. Brenda's head began to spin and her pussy began to tingle. She was totally befuddled. Both as Brenda and Ms Americana, she was always in control. When she wasn't in control, she didn't know what to do. So she watched open-mouthed, eyes wide as King Pimp guided his thick black cock straight up to, and then into her quivering pussy.

"Uuuuggghhh," she grunted as that thick shaft impaled her in the most intimate manner.

King Pimp's left hand rose up and entwined itself in her magnificent mane, holding her head tilted. He started pumping in out and out, deep and slow. Brenda gasped, eyes rolling up and trembling red lips slightly parted. His right hand started fondling her titanic tits as he claimed her warm red lips in a deep, demanding kiss. She groaned low and deep, a sensuous sound, a sound of abject pleasure.

Brenda heard the kitchen staff snickering, calling her a "rich whore" and otherwise voicing their pleasure at seeing her brought down and fucking a member of the lower classes. Worse, fucking a renown pimp.

<My reputation is ruined!> she thought.

"Oh goddess!" she gasped. That tingling pussy turned into a burning cunt, and butterflies started fluttering in her lower belly. She clutched at her ravisher, her long legs came up and wrapped around his waist without her knowledge. Her lips parted and he kissed her again, even deeper and more demanding. She moaned and groaned, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. "Mmmmm mmmmmm"

King Pimp doubled the rate he was fucking her. Brenda gasped loudly, her legs straightening out in a sexy V and her head rolled back as a long, erotic groan rolled out of her lips. The butterflies were instantly burned away, leaving nothing but liquid heat and a building climax. Part of her wanted to fight it, another part wanted to savor it. She had no choice, so she just relaxed and enjoyed it.

"Yes!" King Pimp cried feeling her sweet surrender within his arms, and started pumping hot cum deep into her body.

That was too much for poor Brenda. The liquid heat transformed and rolled down upon her. As the climax claimed her body and soul, she threw her head back and screamed.

"Aaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Oh Goddess! Too good! I can't….I can't….Aaaaaaaiiiieeeeeeeeeee!" she cried.

King Pimp stepped back, pulling his monster cock out by doing so. She felt empty. Brenda collapsed on the table, knees wide and raised up, exposing her cum-dripping pussy. The big pimp stuffed his cock back into his pants, smiled down at Brenda and gave her tits another squeeze.

"Talk to you later, lover," he said, and left.

# # #

Brenda didn't hear anything from King Pimp for another two weeks. He called her cell phone. She answered with a grimace.

"Hello?"

"Brenda, how are you doing, lover mine?"

"Cut the crap, King Pimp. What do you want now?" she said. "I gave you my body in front of all those men. What more is there?"

"A whole lot more, babe. Or should I say, Ms Ameri-babe?"

Brenda tensed up. There was no denying who and what she was to him. He knew. That gave him power over her.

"You've made your point. What do you want?"

"Cancel your lunch plans, babe," he said. "I've made new ones for you."

"Oh? Are we to meet somewhere so you can fuck my brains out again?" she said, already disgusted at the prospect of handing her sacred body over for his vile use and abuse.

"Not exactly. Go to the Presidential Suite at the Royal Arms Hotel at eleven sharp," King Pimp said. "You'll meet Warren Craine there."

"What? The billionaire industrialist?" Brenda said, her beautiful face scrunched up in distasted. "He's a vile little man. Only Big Daddy is a worse defiler of the environment. And he's an old lecher. Disgusting man."

"Yeah, he's all that and more," King Pimp said. "He's also your date. Make sure to make him extremely happy for two hours. Do anything and everything he asks for, because he's paying a lot of money to bang the beautiful and glamorous Brenda Wade."

"What? You are WHORING me out?"

"Duh. I'm a pimp. Stupid bimbo," he said. "Do what you're told, or else."

Brenda hung up angrily, glaring at the phone. How dare him call her a stupid bimbo!

"I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!" she cried. Looking up, she saw it was a quarter till eleven. She tossed her cell into her purse, shouldered it and headed out the door. "Bastard. I'll do you bidding for now, but I'll have my vengeance. Mark my words, my day will come."

Brenda was wearing a red business suit, with black hose and red stiletto pumps. She made quite an impression on all that spotted her striding through the lobby at the Royal Arms. Then, when Warren Craine opened the hotel door, she made a bigger impression.

"I didn't think King Pimp could deliver," he muttered, staring down into her cavernous cleavage.

"Neither did I," she said, shook her head and slipped past him. "I'm yours for two hours, Warren. What do you want?"

"Anything?"

"Anything. For two hours."

"Kneel," he said. Brenda dropped to her knees before him, her mouth starting to water with anticipation. She reached out, unzipped him and pulled out his cock. Then she started licking it, from cock head to balls. "Mmm, tasty."

"Look at how eagerly you drop to your knees and suck," Warren said contemptuously. "Such a whore."

Brenda steeled herself for a long, humiliating two hours. Abusing her body wouldn't be enough for Warren, he wanted to humiliate her as well. And he did. For two whole hours. And neither of them realized that King Pimp was next door, watching it all unfold on closed circuit TV. Recording every second, from a dozen angles.

King Pimp owned the Royal Arms through a dummy corporation. Every room in that hotel had cameras. So he watched as Warren spent this time wisely, fucking every orifice of her luscious body, titty fucking her, spanking her. He then hogtied and blindfolded her, and invited all of the bell hops up to bone her ass.

On the way out of the hotel, after a quick shower, Brenda ran into the Chief of Vice, Captain Wessel. On the street he was called The Weasel. All of the city's super heroines also called him The Weasel. He was a crooked cop, on the take from almost ever sex industry businessman and businesswoman.

"All right, Brenda Wade out slumming," the Weasel said, leering at her monster tits.

"You wish, you vile little reprobate," she snarled. "And stop staring at my breasts! I have a face, and eyes. Show some respect."

With that Brenda shoved him aside and marched out of the hotel.

Brenda expected it to be another two weeks before King Pimp called again. She was wrong. He'd rented the Presidential Suite out for every Monday and Friday, for two hours. Those were her new work days and hours. For the time being, he said.

Brenda ground her teeth and obeyed.

Hooking twice a week seriously cut into her Ms Americana time. But she found ways around it. With sex toys she could whip herself into a frenzy, and not allow any orgasms. That way she could build up her pent up sexual energy quickly. Unfortunately, King Pimp had uses for Ms Americana, too. Namely destroying his enemies so he could take over their operations.

Ms Americana scowled at the hated brothel. Mistress Tabitha reigned supreme in the House of Joy. Mistress Tabitha was encroaching on King Pimp's territory. He didn't like it, so sent Ms Americana to put an end to it.

The Queen of Justice kicked in the front door and charged inside. Johns scattered. Prostitutes cried and screamed for help. Bouncers charged forward, ready to do battle with a legendary super heroine.

Two big bouncers charged her. The super sexy Queen of Justice sent a vicious roundhouse up and out, that connected with both of their heads, and put them both down for the count. Another bouncer raced up and threw a wild punch at her face that she caught and threw him over her hip and through the front door.

"You are soooo through," a sweet, high pitched voice said.

Ms Americana turned just in time to see a beautiful blonde in red teddy and matching thigh boots smash a whiskey bottle up side her head. The ravishing rogue super heroine cried out and staggered back two steps. The little blonde rushed up, pulled her bottoms aside and shoved the long neck of that bottle up her cunt.

A beautiful African American whore jerked the sexy super heroine's hair, pulling her head back and down. She upended another whiskey bottle into Ms Americana's mouth, and shoved it down so that the entire contents glugged down her throat unstoppable.

Both arms were seized by other girls, and the back of her knees kicked. Forced to her knees, gagging on a whiskey bottle, she was unprepared for when the first hooker kicked the bottle rammed up her cunt. Kicked it a dozen times. Hard. When the whiskey emptied out of the bottle in her throat, the African American girl karate chopped her exposed throat, pulled out the bottle and started whacking her over the head until Ms Americana was out cold

"Well done, girls," Mistress Tabitha said.

She was a tall redhead, drop dead gorgeous and wearing all red. There were no buttons or zippers on her outfit, just laces. From top to bottom, she wore a thick, studded collar, leather bolero jack, leather corset with multiple lace-ups, leather low rider pants stuffed into lace up platform thigh boots with seven inch stiletto heels. She also carried a red leather riding crop, just for fun.

Ms Americana was lifted up and plopped on a round table, spread-eagle and harms and legs hanging off. The hookers bound her wrists and angles to the table legs while Mistress Tabitha first roused all of her bouncers, then put on a big, thick red strap-on. She walked up between Ms Americana's wipe spread legs, pulled her red, white and blue patriotically themed bottoms aside, and pressed the tip of that dildo to her moist pussy.

"Let's wake up Ms Americana," Mistress Tabitha said, laughing as she shoved that ten inch shaft of hard rubber brutally into the intimate folds of the sexy super heroine's pussy. Ms Americana's baby blues popped open and her back arched. "Looking for me, Ms Ameri-whore?"

"Oooooh, Great Liberty, I've been captured!" she cried. She struggled momentarily, her big tits jostling around. "I've been bound hand and foot, and I'm at the mercy of my enemies."

"Ok, I guess we can call her the Queen of the Obvious," Mistress Tabitha said, really starting to pound that pussy.

"Tabitha! You vile miscreant, stop that this instant!" Ms Americana cried. "I'm a super heroine and a superior woman, not some two bit whore used to and deserving such disrespect."

"On the contrary, you are," Tabitha said, and increasing the rate of pumping yet again. A powerful tremor shook Ms Americana's body for a long second, and she groaned low and wantonly. "You and the rest of your scantily clad super whores go around flaunting your admittedly spectacular bodies, rubbing their beauty and desirability in everyone's faces, just BEGGING for someone strong enough to slap you down, flip you over and FUCK you into la-la land. Well, consider yourself slapped down. Now we've begun the fuck into la-la land."

Anwar stepped up to the Queen of Justice's head, watched her gasping and panting as Tabitha fucked her stupid. Ms Americana wasn't all there, almost consumed by the pleasure filling her shapely body and simple mind. The sight of Ms Americana's full, glossy red lips, opened in a sexy O was too much for him to endure.

Anwar pulled out his cock, and thrust it into Ms Americana's mouth.

"Hhhmmmmmm!" she cried, baby blues wide. After a second, her eyes half closed and she began an incredible sucking action while he thrust in and out.

"Damn, she started sucking almost immediately," Anwar said.

Hookers ripped off her top, and she felt greasy lipstick mouths start kissing, licking and sucking on her fat tits. One of the girls, Ms Americana couldn't see which one since Anwar was fucking her face upside down, his sweaty, hairy balls slapping her across the face over and over, but one of the girls started rubbing her engorged clit.

"Uuuuuuuuuggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she cried, suddenly and unexpectedly overcome with a climax.

For the next five hours Ms Americana remained on that table, tied down and fucked in every orifice of her shapely body by the bouncers, and then paying customers. When business slowed, two or three of the brothel hookers would put on a sex show with the helpless heroine, and drum up more business for her. And then, when she had the audacity to pass out and not wake back up, they took her upstairs, strapped her into fucking machine, and left her alone in the dark with it, fucking her steadily, unceasingly all night.

Noon the next day, Ms Americana was removed from the machine, stripped down to just her mask, and made to take a shower while a dozen bouncers watched. Then they put her back into her costume, sans power belt. A collar and leash was placed on her and they led her to Mistress Tabitha in the main parlor.

"Kneel, slave," Mistress Tabitha commanded. Ms Americana was forced to her knees. "We normally don't open until Three in the afternoon, but for some reason word has gotten out that I now own Ms Americana, and she was working here. Hmm, interesting." She smiled wickedly. "So, right after I unmask you, we'll open the doors early and put your sweet round ass to work. Sound like a plan to you, Super Twat?"

"Yes, Mistress Tabitha, that certainly sounds like a plan. Not a very good plan, but definitely a plan of sorts," the sexy super vixen said. "But I prefer my original plan."

"Oh?" Tabitha said, amused.

"Yes," Ms Americana said, lunged to her feet and cold-cocked Tabitha before the sexy dominatrix and brothel owner realized what happened. She grabbed a whiskey bottle, shattered it on the bar and pressed the jagged edges to Tabitha's throat. "Halt!"

Everyone stopped, fear filling their faces.

"I'm one desperate woman," Ms Americana said. "I have nothing to lose by killing her. If you want her to live, I suggest you do what I say."

"And what is it you want, Americana," Anwar sneered.

"To escape," she said, lying to just a tad. "And to ensure that, I need you all to cooperate."

"How so?"

And she proceeded to tell them. Ms Americana forced the bouncers to tie up all the hookers and staff, then tie each other up. Anwar was last, with no one left to tie him up. When he turned around to ask what next, she was waiting with another whiskey bottle, and whacked him over the head. Then she tied him up.

Ms Americana tied Mistress Tabitha's wrists together, then forced a red ball gag into her mouth, strapping it behind her head. Then she pulled Tabitha's pants down, shoved a broom stick up her poop chute and watched the beautiful dominatrix's eyes pop open.

"Good afternoon, Mistress," Ms Americana said sweetly.

After a little "persuasion" with the broomstick, Tabitha told Ms Americana where to find her power belt. It didn't do her sexually sated body any good, but the curvaceous super heroine donned it with pleasure.

They left out the back door. Tabitha led the way, bent over and groaning, her tall stilettos clicking and clattering on the rough concrete of the back alley. Ms Americana was right behind her, holding onto the broom stick shoved up Tabitha's ass, keeping the gasping, sobbing FORMER dominatrix and brothel owner moving. And thus did Ms Americana deliver Mistress Tabitha to King Pimp, as ordered.

"Well done, Ms Americana," King Pimp said, quite pleased as Tabitha sucked and slurped his cock. "I'll need you to work tomorrow night, as well."

"Tomorrow is Saturday. One of my days off," she said.

"No, tomorrow you are going to the Vanderholm birthday bash, at the Vanderholm Estate. Wear the red Versace gown, with the slit and plunging neckline. Gobs of diamonds. Couple million worth, at least. Hair down," he said. "You know, the works."

Ms Americana ground her teeth. She had no choice.

"And who will I be attending the party with? My DATE for the evening, no doubt," she said, contempt dripping off every word. Her date, or john, would be there to show her off. Humiliate her, more likely. She was sure the Vanderholms wouldn't be happy to see her there. They loathed her as much as she loathed them. "What's his name? Do I know him?"

"Your date? Hmm, I guess that would be Big Daddy," King Pimp said. "I'm sending your over as my birthday present to him. Make sure you obey him and his lovely wife to the best of your erotic abilities."

# # #

Brenda Wade spent the entire day being pampered and primped for her big night. She had her brows plucked, and got a full Brazilian wax job, leaving no hair down there. She used Chanel No. 5, and put on the Versace gown King Pimp ordered her to wear. Really, it was just a whisper of scarlet silk, that wrapped around her waist and secured there with a diamond pendant. It went on and came off fast and easy. Just what the PIMP ordered. She wore nothing beneath it, just her perfumed and pampered skin, so soft and warm it made men cry to stroke it.

Brenda donned her most spectacular diamond necklace, estimated value five million plus. Matching diamond chandelier earrings, bracelet and ring finished of her jewelry. Then she put on strappy silver sandals, with five inch stiletto heels.

"To the Vanderholm Estate, Jamie," she told her chauffeur, the sexy little Chinese woman named Jamie Chow.

The Vanderholm Estate was just down the street, no more than five minutes, and the only mansion and grounds larger and grander than Wade Manor. The Vanderholms built it just to be bigger and grander than Wade Manor. Ashley was Brenda's Junior High and High School rival and nemesis. They hated each other on sight in Seventh Grade, and nothing had changed decades later.

Security stopped them at the gate. Brenda wasn't on the list.

"Tell them that I am bringing Big Daddy a very special gift, from someone that really wants to be his friend," Brenda said, trying not to betray the fact SHE was the gift to the hired help.

"Mrs. Vanderholm said to just leave it at the gate," he said.

"Tell her that I have ORDERS to deliver it in person," Brenda said. She knew Ashley would love the fact someone, somewhere could order Brenda Wade around. "I h-h-have no choice."

Brenda stopped to breathe. She was thinking about what would happen to her too much. In her months under King Pimp's thumb, she'd learned it was best not to anticipate too much. Just accept what happens and deal with it.

<I hate you, King Pimp! I hate you so much!> she thought, feeling her face redden.

"Mrs. Vanderholm wants to know what the gift is," the guard said.

"She'll have to let me in to find out," Brenda said, them smiled grimly. "Tell her she'll enjoy it more than her husband. It's something they've both wanted a really long time."

Brenda was allowed in. They drove up the long, winding drive, through manicured lawns. There were hundreds of people there. The crème de le crème of Delta City society, business and entertainment. She was dropped off at the front door, and told her driver to take the car home. She'd call when she needed her to return.

Brenda turned and looked at the imposing main doors. Liveried door men stood to either side of it. A bit pretentious she thought, but that was Big Daddy and Ashley. She stood there a long moment, heart pounding, clutching her silver clutch to her belly.

<They are so going to humiliate me tonight,> she thought in profound misery. <My reputation will be utterly ruined by morning. I'll be the talk of the town, and a laughing stock.>

Taking a last deep breath, Brenda Wade headed for the door. Everyone watched her with bated breath. No one thought she'd get through the door, and would be sent packing. They were eager for the show.

"Brenda Wade, here for Big Daddy's birthday," she told the doormen.

"You're expected," one said, and opened the door.

Another man was waiting inside, and offered his arm. Brenda was escorted to the Grand Ballroom. To the right was a dance floor, and to the left large round tables. Blue bloods and new money filled the room, the noise deafening as they chatted each other up, trying to make connections and deals.

Big Daddy and Ashley sat upon thrones, on a raised dais on the other side of the room. Both were decked out in all white. Big Daddy always wore his trademark white suit, tie and shirt. All white, all the time. Ashley was wearing a strapless white gown, her throat, ears and wrists aglitter with diamonds. Her big, silicone boobs were pushed up high, and her long blonde hair piled atop her head elegantly.

"Brenda Wade!" her escort called in a booming voice.

Everyone slowly quieted down, turned and stared at her. Most looked shocked, many curious and some eager. A path opened up between her and the hosts. Brenda cut looks left and right, then started slowly, haughtily down that path. The only sound her stilettos on the polished tile.

Ashley stood up as she approached the dais, holding out a hand to keep Brenda from ascending. The beautiful blonde kept the superior, dominant higher ground. Brenda was not pleased, and that pleased Ashley even more.

"You say you bring Big Daddy a present? From a third person?"

Ashley's voice boomed through the room, so everyone heard every word.

"Yes."

"Someone who ORDERED you to deliver it personally?"

"Yes."

The crowd gasped, then murmured with speculation of WHO could order Brenda Wade to do anything.

Big Daddy leaned forward. He was not only the richest man in the state, a powerful industrialist and corporate raider, but he was a physically big man. The sixty-something political fat cat was tall, big and fat. He had an enormous appetite for everything, and was a big man in every sense of the word.

"Who sent you, and what did they give me?" Big Daddy said.

Bile rose up in Brenda's throat. A slight tremor shook her body. She tried to speak, but had to swallow a couple time to loosen up her throat.

"The gift is from King Pimp," Brenda said. "And I-I-I am the gift."

It was deathly quiet in that grand room. Brenda could only hear her own heart hammering away at breakneck speed. She wondered if someone as young and fit as her could have a heart attack.

"For forever?" Ashley said.

"Tonight," Brenda said.

"What exactly does it mean, that King Pimp GAVE you to me for the night?" Big Daddy said.

"It means I am yours for tonight."

"As in?" Ashley said, starting down the steps of the dais.

Brenda's stress level increased as Ashley grew closer and closer, smirking evilly as she approached.

"As in I-I must o-obey your every command," Brenda said. "I am your…um…"

"Slave?" Ashley said, eyes afire with vicious delight. "Our SEX slave."

"Yes. Exactly," Brenda whispered, throat too tight to speak properly. "I am Big Daddy's sex slave for the night."

"Wahoo!" Big Daddy cried.

Ashley walked around Brenda. Two tall, beautiful women. Rivals and blood enemies. Blonde Ashley was smiling with wicked delight, while black maned Brenda trembled in her stilettos, soul sick. She lifted her chin high when Ashley stroked her check with the back of her fingers.

"So god damned beautiful. Every man's erotic fantasy, Brenda Wade," Ashley said. "My husband's sex slave. Therefore, MY sex slave. Correct?"

"If…if that is Big Daddy's will," Brenda said.

"Call him master, and me mistress," Ashley said.

"Yes Mistress."

Ashley pressed up behind Brenda, her nose nuzzled the beautiful billionaire's diamond dripping ear, then nuzzled her cheek. Ashley's hands reached around and cupped Brenda's 38Gs, hefted them and gave them a little squeeze. Brenda couldn't wear a bra with that gown. They hung free beneath the scarlet silk. Ashley dug in her long nails, and raked them down across Brenda's sensitive boobs.

"Oh," Brenda cried, back arching and rising up on her tip toes.

"This bitch is hot to trot, Big Daddy," Ashley declared loudly. "Brenda Wade, SEX SLAVE. Brenda Wade, who is WORKING for King Pimp!"

"Whore!" Big Daddy cried scornfully.

"WHORE!" the room cried.

A single tear rolled down Brenda's cheek as Ashley unclasped her gown and opened it up. She pulled it off Brenda's spectacular body, to gasps and sounds of awe. She handed the gown to a servant.

"Put this in my bedroom. I'm going to have it mounted as a battle trophy," Ashley said. She took Brenda by the hand, and started up the steps. "Come, Brenda. Time to give King PIMP's gift to Big Daddy. Time for you to start getting what you so richly deserve."

Brenda as led up to Big Daddy in nothing but her diamonds, perfume and heels. Ashley made her turn around so everyone could get a good, long look at a naked and helpless, and OBEDIENT, Brenda Wade. Then Ashley reached around and down, and pushed her index finger up and inside Brenda's hot, wet slit.

"She's completely shaven and….WET!" Ashley crowed with delight.

Brenda's intense humiliation lasted only a second. Ashley started rubbing her clit. Rubbing with some talent, and Brenda rose up on her toes again, gasping, arms thrown wide, head back.

"Oh my Goddess! It's starting," she cried.

Brenda felt the butterflies in her belly, as the warm tingling intensified between her legs. Her nipples hardened to everyone's delight, and she felt her boobs swell a bit more, ride a bit higher and prettier. The butterflies didn't last long, before the beginning of a climax burned them away in liquid heat. In less than a minute Ashley had Brenda panting.

"How long have you been WHORING yourself off for King Pimp?" Ashley demanded.

"Since April!"

"Really? Six months?"

"Yes."

"He owns you, body and soul, doesn't he?"

'Yes."

"Look at the great and virtuous Brenda Wade, revealed as a wanton, horny as hell whore, working for a pimp, and ready to be a sex slave to her enemies," Ashley cried. "The self-righteous reign of Brenda Wade is finished!"

The crowd cheered. Brenda gawked at them, and climaxed.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Oh Goddess, I am not strong enough!" she cried. And climaxed again. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Ashley pulled a staggering, dazed Brenda over to her husband. She maneuvered Brenda so that she was straddling Big Daddy's lap. Big Daddy unzipped, pulled out his rock hard dick, and held it up. Brenda put her hands on his shoulders, leaned over until her lips were just half an inch from his.

"I am yours, Big Daddy. Remember King Pimp fondly when you think back on this night of sex and debauchery," she whispered.

"And we can hire you in the future?" he said.

"Of course. I'm not cheap, but I'm well worth the price," Brenda said, and kissed him long and deep. "Mmmmmmmmmmmm."

Big Daddy and Brenda groaned long and low, while he grabbed her firm round ass and pulled her down. She felt his cock penetrate her body, driving deeper and deeper as she let her weight push her down all the way. Then, without prompting or breaking their kiss, Brenda started gyrating and sliding up and down on his cock, to everyone's dark delight.

Big Daddy started squeezing and caressing Brenda's titanic tits, fondling the biggest and best set of boobs in Delta City. Ashley, from behind, thrust a finger up Brenda's butt hole and started finger fucking the beautiful, billionaire babe. Brenda's shapely ass rose up in response.

Ashley already had her body red hot when she was brought to her master for the night. Now with a cock running in and out of her gorgeous, taut body, she was going wild. They were driving her crazy with passion and need.

"Who's your daddy?" Big Daddy said.

"You are, Big Daddy."

That pushed her over the top. Brenda felt that granddaddy of a climax roaring down upon her. Ashley pulled her finger out, and brought her hand down and around to smack it across Brenda's naked buttocks. CRACK!

"Aaaieee!" Brenda cried in pain and surprise, then the orgasm rolled over her, exploding within her body. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee! Oh. Oh. Oh! Aaaaaaaaaaiiiiieee!" Ashley thrust her finger up Brenda's ass again, and Big Daddy started cumming deep inside her. "Oh Goddess forgive me! I've been TAMED! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Brenda was pulled off the cock, forced to her knees between Big Daddy's knees. She took his cock in hand, and wrapped her glossy red lips around the head, and started giving him the best head Big Daddy every had. Then after he came again in her mouth, she started licking the entire length of his cock and balls, until they were cleaner than when she arrived.

That done, Ashley put a single foot forward and pointed at it. Brenda looked down at the expensive white Italian pump, with the five inch stiletto heel. She licked her full red lips, bent over and kissed it. Then the vivacious vixen started kissing and licking her way up Ashley's mile long leg. She licked her way up to Ashley's naked pussy, all shaven and glistening from her arousal.

"Uummmm," Brenda groaned, burying her face in her childhood rival's fragrant snatch, and starting to lap up her sweet love juices. "Mmmmmm."

Brenda had a pretty easy time bringing Ashley to climax. The gorgeous blonde was so excited about her victory over Brenda she was too excited to fight off her climax. Besides, she understood it was only the first of many, and that the night with Brenda was only the first of many as well. The Vanderholms could certainly afford to pay Brenda's rates.

The birthday party lasted until after sunrise the next day. To Nine o'clock, to be precise. Brenda took on all comers, and there were a lot of comers, too. Most had been her friends and associates for years and years. It almost seemed as if her friends were more eager to get their hands on her, and their cocks inside her, than her enemies.

Brenda spent time dancing naked on tables, giving erotic lap dances and always ended in sex. Ashley enjoyed some time with her, too, mostly leading her around on a leash for two hours straight, making her give BJs to anyone and everyone around them whenever she stopped to chat with someone. Then when it was finally over, Ashley kicked her out of the house and had security drag her out the front gate.

Brenda was left in a pile, covered in sweat and cum, in the cool morning.

Dragging herself to her feet, she stumbled the five miles to Wade Manor.

# # #

"Having a good time, Erica?"

The exuberant mob boss looked at King Pimp with wicked delight, and deep satisfaction. She wore a black leather bustier and matching mini skirt, fishnet stockings and black knee boots. Black leather opera gloves sheathed her hands and arms up past her elbows. In her right hand was a whip.

Tied to the post in front of the mob boss, deep within The Palace, was the High and Mighty, the LEGENDARY, Queen of Justice. Ms Americana stood before a thick black post, her wrists locked in manacles at shoulder height, her sharp tongue stifled by a red ball gag, and a spreader bar keeping her red booted feet a little more than shoulder width apart. She wore her full costume, including the now useless power belt.

Ms Americana trembled, angry red welts crisscrossing her spectacular body from neck to knees. A bright red vibrator was shoved her pussy, and a blue one up her ass. Her own bikini bottoms were holding them in place.

"Yes, thanks for asking," she said, wiping sweat off her brow. "I don't know when I had this much fun." She glanced at Ms Americana, eyes narrowing. "I'll need nipple clamps, a taser and a riding crop, if you don't mind."

"Of course. I'll have them brought up right away," he said. "After all, you have paid for the entire evening, and we wouldn't want you getting bored."

Ms Americana just groaned in helpless misery.

# # #

A month later…

Ms Americana cast baleful baby blues upon her next target. Kid Rotten was a vicious pimp, and known to recruit at the local high schools and colleges. Fortunately, he had incurred the wrath of King Pimp, so she got the go-ahead to take him out.

The super sexy Queen of Justice charged out of the alley and headed straight for the unsuspecting street pimp. Johns and hookers scattered, crying out in fear. Kid spun around and spotted her. She smiled, because there was no way for him to even begin to defend himself before she reached him and knocked his lights out.

"No!" a feminine voice from her side cried, kicked out at her.

Ms Americana cut left to avoid that savage kick, lost her balance, a stiletto heel caught on a crack in the sidewalk, and she went headfirst into the car next to Kid Rotten. BOOM!

"Ugh," she grunted, and passed out.

"That was FUCKING AWESOME!" Kid cried and laughed. He was tall and slim, with long dirty blonde hair, mustache and goatee. He wore a purple silk suit, with matching bowler. "You rock, Monique."

Kid knelt down behind the moaning and groaning super heroine, and grabbed her power belt. He twisted and tugged, even tried using his teeth to unfasten it as she quickly began regaining her senses.

"It can't be taken off like that, Kid!" Monique cried, desperate as Ms Americana appeared to be on the verge of waking up. "You have to fuck her first. I mean, make her climax, then she will be de-powered and you can remove the belt."

"How do you know that?"

"I was with my first pimp, JJ Rod, when she attacked. JJ Rod got help from the crowd, and they got her subdued. He couldn't get her belt off either, so he just fucked her stupid. After she climaxed, he tried again and it came right off easy as can be," Monique said. "He made her confess, that it can only be removed after she is de-powered with an orgasm."

"Fucking A," Kid said. "I can do that. No problemo, babe."

Kid stood up, stomped down on Ms Americana's head once, twice, and third time proved the charm and she went limp again. He picked her up, threw her face down across the hood of his purple caddy, and jerked her red, white and blue thongs down around her ankles. Then Kid removed his belt, and bound her elbows together behind her back, and finally used her own thongs to tie her wrists together.

"Time to tame the Queen of Justice!" Kid cried, and unzipped. He pulled out a ten inch cock, pressed it to her pussy, and pushed deep into the sexy super heroine.

"Ooooooh," Ms Americana moaned.

"Good stuff, huh?" Kid said, laughing. "Good thing you like it so much, because I'll be fucking you a whole lot in the next few years."

"When she's not peddling her big fat ass on the street, right, Kid?" Monique said hopefully.

"Fucking A, Monique. I'm a pimp first and foremost," Kid said, really enjoying the feel of his cock pumping the sexy super heroine's tight twat. He noticed the beautiful super babe was about to wake up, so he grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. "Looking at me riding Ms Americana into the whoredom and the gutter!"

"Uuuuuggggaaaammm! You….bastard….I….I…am going to…ugh," Ms Americana groaned out. "I am going….to kick ….your….your…butts."

Ms Americana tugged at her arms, but was totally helpless the way he bound her up. She had super strength, but without leverage it was useless. Kid knew how to properly bind a super heroine. Worse, she woke up to find her body already well past the raging butterflies in the belly stage. Yep, she was firmly in the HERE-COMES-THE-CLIMAX stage.

Climax meant de-powered.

De-powered while within Kid Rotten's clutches meant she was about to start hooking on the streets like a common street whore. Looking around, she spotted lots of eager eyed men. She would be busy until deep into the night.

"You have to stop now!" she cried, feeling the last of her defenses crumbling. And it started. "You have….Oh! Great Liberty! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhh! Oh! Oh! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee! I've been TAMED!"

"Yes you have, Ms A," another familiar, and equally hated voice said.

"The Weasel," Kid sneered. "What are you doing here?"

"Placing you under arrest, for pimping and, uh," the vile and disgusting Chief of Vice looked Ms Americana's sweaty, semi-nude body over with relish, "…and public indecency."

His fellow vice officers were already untying the hated Queen of Justice. They had no choice. There were too many witnesses to do otherwise.

"This is just too humiliating," Ms Americana groaned as she accepted her thong bottoms from a Vice cop and hand to bend over to put them back on.

"Then it wasn't a total waste of time," The Weasel said.

The Weasel was Chief Wessel, a forty-five year old with a paunch. He was tall at six four, and stocky. His hair was short and brown. The Weasel was not an impressive man to look upon, but he wasn't one to ignore, either.

"Your concern is comforting," Ms Americana said. "Take them away, Chief. The sight of them disgusts me."

With that, Ms Americana staggered off. Her last climax still had her rattled. As time passed, being King Pimp's whore, she found it harder and harder to shake off the effects of climaxing. Soon, she wouldn't be able to gain any power from her belt. Ms Americana would cease to exist, except to be trotted out as one of King Pimp's prized whores.

"Does it matter?" she asked the heavens.

Ms Americana really didn't know why she continued to be Ms Americana. She had nothing. After Brenda's night as Big Daddy's sex present from King Pimp three months back, she lost everything. The stock value of her company collapsed. She was voted off the board of directors, for violating the moral turpitude clause. They forced her to sell off all of her stock in her own company, just to save it. Big Daddy bought it, and now controlled her company, and was making a FORTUNE off it. King Pimp had claimed all the money she got off the sale, leaving her with NOTHING.

King Pimp moved into Wade Manor, and all the world now considered her his prized whore and girlfriend. Oh yeah, she had to sell him Wade Manor for one dollar, complete with the millions of dollars worth of artwork and furnishing.

"That's it," she muttered. "At least I still get some measure of respect as Ms Americana."

"You need respect?" The Weasel said. He thrust a taser into her firm, left butt cheek and pushed the button. "Here's my respect."

"Yyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooowwwwwwwwww!" she cried.

The Weasel savored the sight of Ms Americana's shapely body shaking violently. When he released her, the super sexy Queen of Justice collapsed bonelessly at his feet.

"Oh, I do believe the lady swooned at the sight of my masculine sex appeal," The Weasel laughed.

The Weasel picked up Ms Americana's limp body and carried her back to his unmarked squad car. It was parked in a pool of light. He pulled out his camera phone and took a dozen pictures. He pulled off her top, and took more pictures.

"Now, let's see who's hiding behind that damned mask," the crooked Vice Cop said. He reached out with his left hand, careful not to block the camera's angle, and slowly pulled the mask off her beautiful face as he recorded it in video mode. "Fucking Brenda Wade? The celebrity whore?"

"Yes….ooooh, what did you hit me with? A truck?"

"Taser."

"Oh shit. Totally scrambled my brains," she said, sitting up. Then she spotted her mask in his hand. She held out her hand and frowned at him. "Give it back, pig."

"I know who you are."

"I don't care," she said. "Give me the mask."

Her lack of concern troubled the cop. She should be begging him to not reveal her identity. Of course, with Brenda Wade discredited and cast down into the gutter of debauchery, who would really care?

He handed her the mask, and said, "I'm going to fuck you anyway."

Ms Americana pressed the mask to her face, then regarded him with a frown.

"Would you settle for a blow job?"

"Bitch!" he cried, and backhanded her. Ms Americana was RUINING his greatest victory. She really didn't care. "Whore."

"Yep," she said, shaking her head. "A two thousand dollar an hour whore, to be exact. I'll give you a freebee to celebrate your victory, though."

The sexy super heroine reached up between her 38Gs and unfastened her top. Her titanic tits spilled out and she tossed the top away.

"Fine," The Weasel said. "But I'm going to fuck you, instead of the BJ."

Ms Americana smiled knowingly, pulled her thong down mile long legs, and tossed it aside. She was still sitting atop his hood. She opened her arms and spread her legs wide.

"Come to me, baby," Ms Americana said, baby blue eyes emotionless. She toughed the mask. "On or off?"

"On. I'll take it off when I'm ready," he said, sliding up between her legs and letting her expertly guide him right in. He pushed her to her back, grabbed two big handfuls of fat titty and grinned. "I've waited a long time to do this, Ms Americana."

"Enjoy."

The Weasel sucked her tits long and hard, fucking her just as long and hard. Ms Americana climaxed in less that a minute. She was, after all, already aroused and climaxed by Kid only a short time before that. The crooked cop ripped five orgasms from her body, then creamed her pussy before forcing her to her knees before him.

Ms Americana spent forty minutes sucking Chief Wessel off, before he creamed her mouth good. She swallowed every drop, and licked his cock and balls clean. Then the beautiful heroine started putting her costume back on.

"It's been fun, Chief, but I have work to do," Ms Americana said. She smiled brightly at him and said, "Nothing personal, but I hope you die alone, in the gutter, slowly."

"Bitch," he said, and grabbed her wrist. A second later a handcuff snapped around it.

"Heh!"

He slammed her back face down on the car's hood, pulled her other wrist back and snapped it into cuffs, too. The Weasel pulled her back to her red booted feet, pulled her top down and finally pulled off her mask.

"If I'm denied one victory, I'll take another."

Grabbing a nipple, The Weasel took off walking. Ms Americana clattered along behind him, trying to keep up to relieve the pain of her nipple. He pulled her out of that alley, and back onto the well lit street in Sugar Town.

Sugar Towners stopped and gawked. It took them only seconds to realize Ms Americana was Brenda Wade. Two women they hated beyond all others. They smiled real big to see her brought down and captured.

The Weasel dragged the squealing and squawking super heroine through the streets to The Palace, King Pimp's primary place of business and personal home. He dragged the sexy super heroine through the front doors and to the elevators, then took the elevators to the penthouse. King Pimp was waiting in his throne room.

"What is the meaning of this?" the huge pimp demanded.

"Just returning your personal property," The Weasel said.

"Fool, you've just betrayed her secret identity to the world. You've destroyed Ms Americana utterly and completely," King Pimp said.

"I know," The Weasel said, grinning. "Good riddance."

THE END