MS AMERICANA: Pyrrhic Victory

By Dark One

Ms Americana gave the doorman a scathing look. He had the courtesy to

blanch, even as he hurried to open the door for her. Stepping through that

door plunged her into near darkness in comparison to the blazing noonday

sunshine outside.

“I can’t believe I’m coming here, and not planning to tear it to tiny

pieces,” she muttered.

The HERE was the notorious club Juggies. Juggies was Delta City’s seediest

Gentlemen’s Club. It was near downtown, and scores of lower class men

showed up every day for their lunchtime specials of juicy steaks and juicier

women. At most of the city’s Gentlemen’s Clubs the dancers could only take

off their tops. No bottomless allowed. But Juggies was opened before that

law was enacted, and with damn good lawyers they had managed to keep the

right for full nudity and keep their liquor license as well. Which was no

mean feat.

The music immediately assaulted her senses. She felt it pounding into her

breastbone. Felt it in her lungs, and even on her skin. It was insanely

loud, driving, and infectious. Cigarette smoke attacked her pristine lungs

next, causing her to stop and cough into her red gloved hand.

There were ten stages in Juggies. A beautiful young woman danced upon each

one. Most only wore a pair of stiletto shoes or boots. Ms Americana didn’t

consider body glitter clothes. She spotted blondes, brunettes, redheads on

stage, at tables and on the floor, with at least three Asians, five blacks,

and about ten Latinas mingling on the floor. In all, she knew Juggies

employed at least one hundred and fifty girls at any given time, sometimes

up to two hundred.

Even though the club only opened an hour earlier, there were easily one

hundred men inside enjoying the entertainment. Some were to one side

playing pool, while the rest sat around the many stages or at small, dark

tables. Very few of the men sat alone. Dancers quickly latched onto any

available man, offering everything from belly shots to lap dances.

Ms Americana’s belly was filled with butterflies. She hated being there.

The place, the patrons and the women that worked there offended her to her

very core. But she had no choice. Flag Girl was missing. Captured, in

fact, by a vile white slaver. It had happened the night before, and Ms

Americana still couldn’t believe how it happened.

“So fast,” she muttered, shaking her head.

One minute, she and Flag Girl were kicking white slaver butt, the next Flag

Girl cried out in pain and fell unconscious. She fought furiously to get to

her sexy sidekick, but the white slavers snatched up the blonde teenager and

ran. They left a few of their vile number behind to keep her busy, and then

the “rear guard” slavers slipped away once she got past them. It took less

than three minutes, from Flag Girl crying out to Ms Americana being left

alone in that sleazy warehouse.

Ms Americana spent all night and all morning looking for clues. Several of

her best snitches pointed her here. To see a man she knew too well – The

Toad.

“Great Liberty, I can’t believe I’m going to ask him for help,” she said,

then felt the butterflies leap up her throat, forming a tight lump. “He’ll

probably laugh in my face.”

The Toad, whose real name was Willard Aimes, was a former white slaver

himself. She sent him to prison for ten years, eleven years back. By all

accounts, he had led a straight and narrow life since returning from prison.

But all her snitches, and even the Police, say he was still connected to

the white slavery world. Nothing went down in and around Delta City he

didn’t know about. But he kept his hands clean.

Taking a deep breath to steady her frayed nerves, Ms Americana strode

deeper into the strip club. The main stage was opposite the front entrance,

the first thing the patrons saw upon entering. Side stages were scattered

about to either side of it. The long bar, upon which two girls were

dancing, stretched along the left side of the club. The right side held

eight pool tables, five of which had men and women playing. There was a VIP

area above the pool area, with a broad stairs going up to it and twin

bouncers guarding it.

Ms Americana headed for the VIP area. The Toad practically lived up there.

It gave him a good view of most of the stages. Besides, VIP members got

free lap dances.

“Members only,” one of the bouncers said, blocking her way.

He was big, burly and bald. But what really annoyed her was he wore dark

sunglasses even inside a dark club. She noted he had an earpiece in his

left ear, as did his twin three steps away. Indeed, all the clubs bouncers

and managers wore earpieces like they were Secret Service or something. She

wanted to rip it off him and punch out his lights, but if she started a

fight she’d never get the Toad’s help.

<Be good,> she silently reminded herself with effort. It wasn’t going to

be easy. <Just this once, then come back another day and clean house.>

“Tell the Toad that Ms Americana is here to speak with him,” she said,

locking eyes with his sunglasses. “Tell him it is important.”

He nodded and signaled his brother. The twin turned and ascended the

stairs in studied indifference. She was in a hurry, and he was taking his

sweet time. It was almost too much to handle. After a long moment, he

returned and motioned that she could go up.

“Lucky for you he agreed,” she said, pushing the bouncer aside. “You two

wouldn’t have lasted ten seconds against me.”

The Toad was easy to pick out even in the semi-dark of the VIP area. He

was big and fat, with an overly wide mouth and bug-eyes. He looked every

bit the toad he was named after. He wore a dark suit that was both

exorbitantly expensive and ill-fitting at the same time. But nothing ever

looked right on the Toad.

Ms Americana crinkled her nose at the sight of him. Though he was sixty

years old if he was a day, there were at least ten dancers fawning over him.

And that wasn’t counting the four “girlfriends” he had with him. Rumor

said he had six girlfriends living inside his palatial mansion. Convicted

felon or not, he was still filthy rich. Indeed, he inherited a staggering

fortune. His white slavery activities of the past were just for kicks and

jollies. Or as his lawyer said, “Youthful indiscretions.”

“Hello, Ms Ameri-tits,” Toad said. His voice was deeper than she recalled.

It almost rumbled, blending in with the heavy bass beat of the music. “To

what do I owe this rare honor?”

Ms Americana’s bright blue eyes narrowed.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” she said. “My partner, Flag Girl, was

captured by the West Side Kidnappers. White slavers. I demand you tell me

where to find them and Flag Girl.”

“Still the ‘demanding’ bitch I remember so fondly,” he said, chuckling.

The girlfriends and dancers sitting with him all giggled. “I’m an honest

citizen, just trying to live my remaining years pursuing that happiness the

Constitution said I deserve.”

They said he was keeping his hands clean. She didn’t believe it. But

there was no proof, and she couldn’t do anything to him without evidence

that he was involved in illegal activities. It wasn’t against the law to be

a rich lecher, no matter how despicable and disgusting you were as a man.

“We both know you might not be active in white slaving, but you know

everything that goes on concerning it in Delta City,” she said, eyes

flashing blue fire. “But you’re smart enough to make everyone think you are

truly reformed and honest. Now it is time to prove it by helping me save

Flag Girl and countless over young women in this city.”

The Toad and his girls clapped.

“Ms Stuck-up,” he said. “I wouldn’t help you if my life depended upon it.”

Ms Americana’s heart sank. She was afraid of this response. Flag Girl had

little time. White slavers didn’t hang onto their human merchandise long.

Flag Girl had two or three days, tops. Then they’d have a buyer and she’d

be shipped far, far away, never to be seen or heard from again.

“Flag Girl never did anything to you, Toad,” she said, a tremble in her

voice now. “Great Liberty, man, she was only seven or eight when I sent you

to prison. I didn’t even know her then. You cannot hold her responsible

for what happened between us eleven years ago.”

The Toad stared at the dancer on the main stage a long moment, as if he

hadn’t heard Ms Americana at all. He was totally unmoved by her plea. She

realized his arms were around a pair of dancers – Mai Ling on her right and

Maria on her left. He was fondling the almond eyed Latina’s rather ample

breasts while he caressed the Asian girl’s long blue-streaked, black hair.

“Toad?” she asked. “Please, prove you are an honest citizen and help me

save Flag Girl.”

The Toad took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His bug-eyes narrowed

as he looked her over, head to toe. Twice. Then he licked thick lips and

tore his eyes off her 44DDs, to look her dead in the eyes.

“You’ve never given me anything but pain and humiliation, Ameri-twit,” he

rumbled. The lump formed in her throat again, as the butterflies sprang to

life in her belly. This didn’t sound good for her, or Flag Girl. “It’s

time you change your wicked ways.”

“I don’t understand?”

“I might be moved to help you this one time,” he said. His eyes narrowed

even more. Her baby blues widened in dread and anticipation. She was all

but panting. “If you gave me reason to, that is.”

“How?” she said, hope springing alive again. “Tell me what to do?”

“Dance,” he said, his scowl turning into a triumphant grin. “Up on stage.

Be good to me, and I’ll be good to you, Ms Ameri-twit.”

“Oh! No! I can’t do THAT,” she cried. Stripping was unacceptable. Young

girls and women everywhere looked up to her as a role model. She couldn’t

betray their faith and trust like that. “I’m the Queen of Justice, not a

sleazy stripper.”

“You want to see Flag Girl again?”

“Yes, but…”

“Then get up on stage, or get out of my face,” the Toad said.

Face burning in shame, Ms Americana had no choice but to obey. She

couldn’t abandon Flag Girl over simple pride. She’d do anything to save her

nineteen year old friend, ward and comrade.

“Just this once,” she said, climbing up on the small stage in which the

Toad and his girls sat before. The dancer, a pretty Chinese girl, vacated

it eagerly for her. “Great Liberty, how humiliating.” She gave the Toad a

scathing look. “You are a pig. A stinking, male chauvinist pig.”

“And you are a big-titted bimbo that needs my help, Ameri-tits, so start

stripping.”

At center stage in the VIP section, Ms Americana took a deep breath, closed

her eyes and raised her hands high above her head. She held the pose a

dozen seconds, as she steeled her pride and self-esteem from the bruising

they were about to endure. Then she began to gyrate her well-rounded hips.

Very quickly, she was performing a reasonably good erotic dance, with a good

deal of hip thrusting and jutting, bouncing tits.

Ms Americana was a good two minutes into the dance before the calls of the

small VIP crowd to “take it off” sank in and she reached for the clasp

between her massive mammaries with trembling fingers. A painful lump formed

in her throat as her eyes locked with the Toad’s lust filled orbs. He was

all but drooping. Even his “girlfriends” and the strippers were gawking,

mesmerized by her dance, and by what she was about to do.

For the first time ever. EVER. The legendary, the mighty, Ms Americana,

was going to strip. The glorious Queen of Justice was WILLINGLY stripping

for the carnal pleasure of very bad men.

Butterflies erupted deep in her rock hard belly. Her knees felt weak and

watery and her fingers trembled even more fiercely as she swallowed hard and

unfastened the clasp. A gasp erupted from the crowd, and she hadn’t even

exposed herself yet. The thought, the very likely fact that she WOULD

strip, would unclothe her legendary globular white tits was enough to give

those hard-bitten men a gut punch.

<This is harder than I thought,> she thought miserably. <Just do it.>

Ms Americana yanked the red, white and blue, star-spangled bikini top off.

Stunned silence greeted her jouncing 44DDs. To her surprise, she

discovered her perfect pink nipples were hard and erect. Until that moment,

she didn’t realize she could be aroused so easily, and by such a terribly

humiliating ordeal. Then she realized her red, white and blue bikini

bottoms felt damp as well.

<How humiliating!> she thought, feeling her face burning again.

The song ended, and Ms Americana thought her degrading ordeal was over.

But another song started up, a fast, hard driving rock song, and the Toad

signaled for her to continue dancing. The call to “take it all off” started

up again, too. She knew what they wanted – take off the bikini bottoms.

And that act proved more difficult that removing her top.

“Toad, please, can’t we work out a different deal,” she gasped, eyes wide

and beseeching.

“No,” he said, and licked his thick lips. “Keep going, or Flag Girl

suffers the consequences, Ms Ameri-stripper. Let’s see that Ameri-pussy,

bitch.”

She nodded in defeat. Ms Americana just could not abandon Flag Girl -- her

beloved ward, Lydia -- to white slavers. They would do far worse to her

than be forced to strip for evil men. So she brought her red gloved hands

up to cover her naked nipples a second, then slide them down and across her

satiny white belly. Everyone’s eyes followed the crimson instruments of

potential pleasure. Both hands slid over her bikini bottom, then caressed

her cunt through the cloth, before sliding up and then under the bikini

bottoms.

Ms Americana marveled at her control of the men and women. Such power!

She always thought of strippers of having no power. Of being creatures of

abject servitude. But she controlled their pleasure, their emotions and

desires. It was heady stuff, and frightening.

Once inside her bottoms, she slid her hands to her well rounded hips,

hooked her index fingers through the thin strings of the string bikini, and

peeled the red, white and blue symbol of her dominance down her smooth

thighs. With knees locked, she stripped the bottoms all the way to her

ankles, and then stepped out of them. Then she tossed them on top of her

top and began to dance.

Her audience hooped and hollered joyously. She wore only her mask, tiara,

gloves, boots and power belt. Ms Americana never felt so naked in her life.

Ms Americana finished that song, then danced for another before the Toad

signaled to a blonde and redhead to either side of the stage. The redhead,

Star, took her by the left hand, and Monika, the blonde, clasped her right.

Together, the two strippers led her off the stage and straight to Toad. Ms

Americana was maneuvered over the Toad, so that her mile long legs were to

either side of his wide hips. Then she was leaned forward and her hands

placed on the back of Toad’s chair.

Shamed beyond comprehension, Ms Americana pulled her head straight back and

stared up at the dark ceiling. She knew what Toad wanted, and didn’t want

to watch his sating his lusts on her body. As his pudgy hands began

caressing and fondling her dangling 44DDs she thought of Flag Girl’s

terrible plight. What she was being forced to do with Toad was nothing

compared to her friends traumatic ordeal.

“Great tits, Ameri-slut,” Toad said, then sucked one of her nipples into

his wide mouth.

“Great Liberty,” she gasped as pleasure consumed her body. She hated the

fact it felt so right, sooooo great. Then Toad nipped her hypersensitive

nipple with his sharp teeth, causing a jolt to radiate through her body.

“Oooooo, please. Don’t hurt me.”

Toad chuckled as he began to suck on her tit with relish and wild

abandonment. For twenty long, torturous minutes the disgusting creature

sated his titty fantasy on her massive mammaries. He quickly had Ms

Americana panting and writhing. It was so hard to think, much less

concentrate on anything. And then, at the end of the twenty minutes, he

didn’t stop sucking on her tits, but removed both hands from them. What he

did with those hands frightened her even more, and took her to a new level

of humiliation.

“Damn, she’s sopping wet,” Toad said, both of his hands caressing her

bikini waxed, close cropped twat. “She’s ready for action, and then some.”

The others laughed and taunted Ms Americana with insults and sexually

derogatory remarks. Mostly, they called her a slut, whore or harlot. She

was already flushed with sexual heat, generated by his use of her tits, but

this took it to the next level. Her lower belly started to tingle in that

special way.

“Ooooooo, Liberty,” she gasped. “Give me strength.”

“Why don’t I give you this instead,” Toad said, and immediately started

messaging her clitoris.

“Oh! Wait! Not that,” she cried, eyes wild. That was she ‘special’ spot

that only she was allowed to play with. “Anything but that.”

The Toad began licking her tits with his overlarge tongue, while both hands

tormented her twat. One hand continued to message the clit, while the other

toyed with and probed her vagina. He also spent no little time caressing

her pussy lips and inner slit, all the while driving the poor super heroine

in his clutches wild. Very soon she was gyrating her shapely hips, arching

her back and clutching desperately at the chair’s back.

If that wasn’t enough, Toad must’ve given a signal she didn’t catch. Star

and Monika stepped up close, to either side. The strippers were both naked,

save for jewelry and stiletto pumps. Monika began rubbing and probing Ms

Americana’s hiney and asshole. Star caressed her long black hair, one of

her tits, and began to sweetly nuzzle the super heroine’s ear with her nose

and lips.

Then Star’s hot, wet tongue plunged deep into Americana’s ear, and she felt

that tingle deep in her belly starting to change into the rush to climax.

Ms Americana panicked. If she climaxed, then she’d lose most, if not all,

of the super strength her power belt provided. The power belt energized her

pent up sexual frustration into super strength and endurance. Climaxing

would effectively de-power her for untold hours.

“Too much!” Ms Americana cried. “Make them stop, Toad. Please, I’ll do

anything if you make them stop before it is too late.”

Toad only responded by plunging his thick finger deep into her vagina.

“Aaaiiieeeeee!” she cried, experiencing a mini orgasm. It wasn’t too bad.

She believed she still had most of her super strength. She could feel the

power of the belt surging through her still. But anything more than that

minor climax, and she’d be toast. Then the stripper Star seized her face

and planted a deep, wet lipstick kiss on the Queen of Justice’s ruby reds.

“Mmmmmpppphhhhhh!”

Another orgasm started to build. She knew it was be a bigger one, too.

That lump of dread began to form in her throat even before Toad’s hands left

her pussy, and seized her hips. She was pulled down into his lap. She left

something hard and wet touch her most intimate place.

“Oh! Not that! I can’t take that after what you’ve all done to me!”

“Good,” Toad said, and forced her down upon his massive cock.

Toad might’ve been as ugly and disgusting as original sin, but he was hung

like a horse. Ms Americana gasped, eyes wide in shock, as his thick member

penetrated her cunt, pushing her impossibly wide.

“Too much!”

“What? That’s only the first two inches, Ameri-sissy-slut,” Toad sneered.

He nodded and both Star and Monika pushed down on her shoulders. Pushed

down, hard. She slid down his monster shaft another three inches. “Now, Ms

Formerly High and Mighty, that’s enough to break most women.” He leered at

her sweaty body a long moment. “And I have a lot more STICK to beat you

into submission with, too.”

Ms Americana pushed up, forcing herself back up his shaft. The movement

out of her was almost as devastating as the push into her. She gasped and

shuddered. But the strippers and the Toad wouldn’t let her completely come

off his killer cock.

Desperate to get him out of her before it was too late, “I’ll suck it!

Please, let me suck it!”

“Oh, don’t worry, my puppet, you’ll get a good long taste before we’re

through with you,” he said, and the others laughed.

Once again, the strippers pushed down on her shoulders as Toad pulled her

well rounded hips to himself. Every fiber in the helpless super heroine’s

body quivered in ecstasy as she moaned and groaned her way down his shaft.

Then they repeated that little exercise in futility five more times, with

her building up more and more sexual frustration, sexual need and hunger, as

they slowly worked her way down the ten inch cock, until the entire dick was

buried inside the Queen of Justice’s cunt. The need to release became too

much to bear, but she held her sexual release at bay with brutal self

discipline.

“We’re going to keep doing this until you cum, Ms Americana,” Toad said

triumphantly.

Their eyes locked. Her beautiful blue eyes grew wide, for in that instant

of fear and dread, she lost her iron grasp on her self-control. The dam

broke.

“Aaaaiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!” she wailed as another orgasm consumed her over

used, overheated body. “Oh, please, you are destroying me.”

“I know,” he said as the two strippers giggled wickedly.

She was forced up and down his monster cock again and again. Her body

trembled now, as her climax racked belly quivered in the aftershocks of that

last, mind numbing climax. Men cheered wildly all about her. Ms Americana

squeezed her eyes shut, to hide her shame and humiliation. Then another

climax slapped her down. And another.

“Mercy,” she begged. “Great Liberty, save me from this monsters.”

Blonde and beautiful Monika abandoned her hiney to start sucking on Ms

Americana’s tit. Star, too, grabbed a tit and started nibbling and sucking,

and otherwise driving Ms Americana crazy with pleasure and desire. The

super heroine released the back of the chair and leaned back, giving Toad’s

shaft an even better angle to penetrate and stimulate her vagina. Then she

seized her own tits, holding then up for the two strippers to enjoy.

“Great Liberty! What have you done to me?”

Ms Americana started bouncing up and down on Toad’s bitch taming rod. She

rode him long and hard, all the while the two strippers enjoyed her

succulent tits. In no time she was leaning back, hands now on Toad’s knees

as she moved up and down the full length of his huge cock. She cried out

numerous times, with each mind boggling orgasm that consumed her.

“Yes! Yes! Oh, Sweet Lord, YES!”

Toad held out heroically for twenty minutes, even though he really needed

to cum just two minutes after penetration. But he controlled himself in a

way he never bothered to do before, and managed to make Ms Americana climax

so many times there was no doubt she was completely and utterly de-powered

and TAMED.

Ms Americana lost contact with reality after Toad coupled with her. Very

quickly her entire world was his cock, and the wonderful lips and tongues of

Star and Monika. She didn’t know how many orgasms she had, but every one of

them was head and shoulders above anything she’d ever experienced before.

But when he shot his wad deep inside her pussy, she was reminded of her

predicament and her mission to save Flag Girl.

“Great Liberty! That was….Oh….It was….soooo….,” she gasped, collapsing in

Star and Monika’s slender arms.

Two other strippers hurried to help their sexy sisters pull Ms Americana

off Toad’s semi-erect dick. One of his girlfriends immediately, greedily,

began to lick and suck his cock, enjoying her time cleaning him up. For his

part, Toad watched Ms Americana being carried over to, and stretched out

upon the stage with self-satisfied eyes and face.

Victory felt good.

“Your turn, girls,” Toad said, indicating two of his girlfriends.

Dark haired Courtney Fox stood and stripped out of her red, silken gown and

crawled up on stage beside Ms Americana. Long red-nailed fingers

immediately sank into the sexy and helpless super heroine’s twat.

Americana, stretched out spread-eagle, arched her back and groaned low in

her throat. A hedonistic groan full of pleasure. Then Rachel Ray, a light

brown haired stunner in a pink gown stripped and joined them. She went to

work on Ms Americana’s titanic tits.

Soon, Courtney straddled Ms Americana’s face. The exhausted and defeated

super heroine didn’t hesitate. Her hot, wet tongue quickly found Courtney’s

pussy lips, and then she brought her red gloves hands up and pulled that

hot, moist cunt open.

“Mmmmmmm,” both Ms Americana and Courtney said in unison.

As Rachel spread Ms Americana’s shapely legs and buried her face into that

well-used snatch, Toad signaled one of the bouncers. The bald bouncer that

blocked Ms Americana at the foot of the stairs tore his eyes off that most

wonderful of sights, and approached the VIP.

“Ms A-Merry-Twat will be entertaining all comers for the rest of the day

and evening,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you and your brother kept the

line formed down below orderly. They can sate any frustrations they feel

deep inside Super Tits there.”

The bouncers smiled wickedly and nodded.

# # #

“Ohhhhhh,” Ms Americana groaned, barely coherent.

Her whole world was topsy-turvy. She didn’t know up from down, left from

right. And it was so dark. She could barely see anything.

Then a door opened.

“Aaiiee,” she cried, slapping a hand over her brutalized eyes.

“It’s not that light out yet,” Toad said from above her head. Or was it

below?

Forcing her eyes open, she realized the bouncing movement she was

experiencing was NOT, or a change, from being screwed. She was being

carried over some goon’s shoulder, fireman carry style. The Toad was

following a step behind, and was himself being followed by his four

girlfriends. The girlfriends were carrying pieces of her costume in their

well-manicured hands.

“Where am I?” she croaked out.

“In the alley behind Juggies, Ms Ameri-Wallowed-out-Hole,” Toad said.

“It’s eight in the morning. We’ve been fucking you royally since noon

yesterday.” She felt his pudgy hand pat her hiney. “I must say, you held

up splendidly. I thought for sure you’d crap out hours and hours ago.”

“Fuck you,” she said.

“And you did, seven times in all,” he said, and laughed. Ms Americana just

groaned. “Not counting blow jobs, of course.”

“You’re despicable.”

“I know,” he said, grinning obscenely.

The goon carrying her stopped. She heard a metallic screech, and then her

world flipped over and over. It took her barely conscious mind a long

second to realize he tossed her away. A second later she landed into

something wet, sticky and odorous.

“Trash!” she cried.

“Of course, I always clean up after myself, so I got Harald here to help me

take out the TRASH,” he said.

“Pig.”

“No, I’m toad. Tsk-tsk, poor thing is losing her mind as well,” he said.

He signaled his girlfriends, who stepped up one at a time and dumped pieces

of her red, white and blue costume atop her in the dumpster. Panic consumed

the super heroine for a second, in the middle of the girlfriends’ insidious

delivers. A quick check of her body showed she was only wearing her mask,

power belt and boots. The tiara, choker, gloves and bikini were all removed

during the night.

The tiara was the last piece to be returned, and then they all turned to

leave.

“Wait! You promised to help me if I cooperated,” she said. She looked her

cum sticky body over with disgust. “I did my part. Now tell me where to

find Flag Girl.”

“Oh, that. I guess I did kinda promise,” Toad said, waffling. “Oh, hell,

she’s being kept in the old Radiotronic warehouse on Frank Station Street.

But not for long, so I suggest you hurry.”

Ms Americana sucked it up. She gathered up the many pieces of her world

renown and respected costume, and crawled out of the filthy dumpster. There

in the alley, she slowly put on her costume. Sore all over, she still

walked as if nothing untoward happened to her the previous day and night.

She was, as she reminded herself, a superior woman. Her ability to heal

after injury was remarkable and fast. A normal woman wouldn’t have survived

that mega gang bang she endured.

“Have a nice day, Ms Americana,” the doorman from the previous day said,

grinning. She remembered him as the man that liked to rub his cum-sticky

cock all in her face before making her suck and lick it clean. She wanted

to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face, but she had to save her strength

for dealing with the white slavers. “Come back soon.”

“In your dreams, pig,” she growled as she got into her custom red, white

and blue Ferrari.

A second later she was pealing out of the parking lot. Frank Station

Street was across town. And it was rush hour. So it took three times as

long to get there as normal and left her filled to the brim with

frustration. Enough frustration, in fact, to re-energize her power belt to

a certain degree. So when she arrived, she figured she was stronger than

four or five men, instead of ten.

“Good enough,” she said, her confidence building again. “After all, I am a

superior woman.” She smacked her red-gloved right fist into her left hand,

blue eyes afire with vengeance. “Those vile miscreants don’t stand a

chance.”

She walked up to the front door and kicked it in. Rushing in, she moved

swiftly until she found the white slavers and their victims. Five pretty

young things lay bound hand and foot along one way, ball-gagged and

blindfolded. She counted three Latina lovelies, a redhead and very pale

brunette. Flag Girl was separated from the others, bound to a contraption

that held her bent over. Her mouth, pussy and asshole were left exposed for

easy exploitation. And two exploiters were hard at working raping her twat

and mouth.

For a brief second, Ms Americana saw herself in Flag Girl’s predicament and

the expression on her pretty face. Flag Girl was stripped down to her boots

and gloves, nothing else. She was horrified her companion had been

unmasked, but Lydia kept a low profile so it was unlikely they made an ID on

her. It was obvious she was as lost in erotic pleasure as Ms Americana had

been just a short time earlier. Poor Flag Girl wouldn’t be any help for a

while.

“How dare you abuse Flag Girl and these other poor women!” Ms Americana

cried.

There were only four white slavers. The panel truck they used was gone, so

the rest were out. She cursed her rotten luck. Ms Americana so wanted to

catch them all red-handed. But four of ten was better than nothing, and at

least Flag Girl and the other five victims would go free.

Ms Americana unleashed her pent up rage and tore into the white slavers.

They proved disappointing, as they quickly fell to her righteous onslaught.

Little of her frustration and rage was spent taking them down. She

suspected they were left behind because they were so useless. Which meant

the most competent of the white slavers got away.

“Not for long,” she muttered, eyes flashing blue fire as her fist clenched

and unclenched. Then she turned to Flag Girl and released her from bondage.

“Holy Terror, Ms A, you were magnificent! I’ve never seen you fight so

brutally,” Flag Girl gushed.

Ms Americana hugged her sexy sidekick and then sent her to find her costume

and get dressed. Meanwhile, the Queen of Justice freed the five civilian

victims. Then she used her cell phone to call the police.

# # #

Ms Americana and Flag Girl arrived at Wade Manor in late afternoon. She

drove the Ferrari up the secret tunnel to the secret underground garage that

held all the custom cars, trucks and motorcycles they used as super

heroines. An elevator took them up to the secret chamber between their

second floor suites. They showered, washing off all the dried cum off both

their bodies, and then went to their separate rooms.

Now they were Brenda Wade and Lydia Willis.

“Meet you in the hallway in twenty,” Brenda said, smiling warmly at her

ward. “Unless you don’t want to go to the gala tonight. I can come up with

a good excuse for why you’re not there. I’d understand, after what you went

through.”

“I’m fine,” Flag Girl said, grinning. “See you in twenty, Brenda!”

Brenda beamed with pleasure as she put on her makeup and selected a daring

crimson silk gown for the evening. It was important they make it to the

gala. Everyone would be talking about Ms Americana and Flag Girl, and

probably speculating on the terrible ordeal poor Flag Girl endured before

being heroically saved by Ms Americana! If they started missing such

affairs immediately after known ordeals or difficult times for the two super

heroines, then people would start putting two and two together.

“And that would be the end of us as a vigilante duo,” she said.

Brenda pulled on a pair of silk hose, held up with a red lace garter belt.

Then she stepped into a pair of expensive Jimmy Choo stiletto pumps, before

donning her crimson Versace gown. She adorned her neck, ears and wrist with

sparkling diamonds and rubies. And then, after double and triple checking

herself in a full-length mirror, she stepped out into the hallway to find

Lydia coming out of her room.

“Ready, Sweetie?”

“As ready as I can be, Brenda.”

“Good girl. I’m proud of you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You are strong, beautiful and courageous,” she said. “And

indomitable, like me.”

Blonde and beautiful Lydia beamed in pleasure as they descended the Grand

Staircase. For a brief moment, Brenda was reminded of the previous night.

Reminded of another beautiful blonde. Monika. Oh, the things Monika did to

her! The thought made her pussy tingle and become moist.

<Damn, I should’ve worn panties. Or at least a thong,> she thought.

“You’re right. We’re indomitable!”

“I won’t go that far,” Toad said.

The two beauties, halfway across the entrance foyer to the front door,

froze in place at the sound of his voice. Lydia had never met Toad, but

Brenda would never forget that croaking, rumbling voice.

“TOAD!” Brenda cried, whirling around to face him. “What are you doing

here?”

“Ha ha! See the look on her face, boys?” Toad crowed. “I told you it

would be glorious.”

“And she knew who you are, Toad,” Jade said. Brenda would never forget

that particular Thai woman. She was a dominatrix, and made Ms Americana do

far worse that just climax over and over again, though she did that, too.

“You were right, Brenda Wade is Ms Americana and her lovely ward is Flag

Girl.”

“How did you know?” Brenda asked, aghast.

“Duh,” Toad said. “After we fucked you unconscious, the first time, I

peeked under your mask. I recognized you right off.”

“You peeked! That’s not fair!” Brenda said, suddenly filled with dread.

Did she save Lydia from one white slaver just to hand her over to another?

“You cheated.”

Toad, and several of his toadies and girlfriends, rolled his eyes.

“What are you, stupid or something? In your own words, I’m a miscreant. A

criminal. A MONSTER,” he said. “You’re lucky I was honest enough to set

you free once I had my hands on your helpless body last night.”

“You cad! You filthy, obnoxious cad!” she cried. “I trusted you.”

“That proves it. You ARE stupid,” Toad said. All of the toadies and

girlfriends laughed merrily. He motioned, and some of his toadies rushed

the two flabbergasted women. Each was seized by a pair of burly goons. “By

the way, I do appreciate your help in crippling the operations of a rogue

white slavery gang. Since your untimely attack on their operation, they

have decided to fall in line and take direction from me. As all white

slavery operations do in this town.”

“I knew it! You are still dirty!”

Brenda struggled in vain. The two goons were too strong for her, without

her power belt. She saw Lydia struggling as well. All for naught. They

were caught, and caught good.

“You won’t get away with this, Toad,” she sneered. “I’m Brenda Wade, and

an important and highly respected member of this community. When I go

missing, local, state and federal forces will be activated to look for me.

You’ll never get me out of the country.”

“I’m afraid you are wrong again, Ameri-Brenda,” he said, chuckling. “I’ve

already got a buyer for both of you.” He gave them a sly smile. “I hear

Columbia is wonderful this time of year. And the Drug Lords down there seem

to have a bone, or is that boner, to pick with you and your sweet little

sidekick.”

Brenda felt the blood rush from her face, and then felt light-headed. It

wasn’t supposed to end like this. She was the Queen of Justice. Millions

and millions of people loved and adored her. Young women worshipped and

mimicked her. She was a glorious role model. It wasn’t right.

Brenda’s Versace gown was removed, and the girlfriends immediately began

fighting over it. She had little time or reason to worry about them, for

the toadies holding her started to fondle and molest her. As the toadies

dragged her to a nearby couch, she saw Lydia dragged over to the Toad.

The Toad dropped his pants and sat back in a chair. His grotesque twelve

inch dick was erect and ready as Lydia, now wearing only a pair of silver

stiletto sandals, black hose and garter belt, was maneuvered above this

cock.

“No! Toad! Not her,” Brenda cried desperately. “Take me instead. Let

her go, and I’ll take very good care of you, your toadies and your

girlfriends. I give my word of honor!”

“Good try, but I’m ready to sample the pretty protégée,” he said

Brenda was forced to her knees. One of Toad’s goons immediately shoved his

rancid cock down her throat. Then another mounted her from behind. She was

so used and abused earlier that she couldn’t mount any defense. Both men

slid all the way in without resistance. Her face burned in shame yet again

as she watched out the corner of her eyes as Lydia was forced to mount

Toad’s monster dick.

“Ooooooooooooooo, yes,” Lydia cried as she was impaled. She slid down half

his shaft right away, reminding everyone that she’d been royally fucked for

a couple of days. The stunned, dazed look on her pretty face must’ve

mirrored Ms Americana’s face Thirty hours earlier when she first found

herself impaled upon his monster cock. “Ahhhhhhhhhh.”

“Oh, yeah, the young one is tighter than her magnificent mentor,” Toad

crowed. “Work it, Flag Girl. Work it like you know you should.”

“Oh, God, Ms A,” Lydia cried. A monster climax threatening to explode

already. What she felt was beyond shame, for she discovered in captivity

that she really gets off on forced sex and being helpless.

“I’m…soooo….soorrryyy…..AAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!”

Seeing Lydia exploding with orgasm pushed Brenda over the top. Well, that

and two well hung goons fucking the bejesus out of her from and back. And

the two vanquished super heroines weren’t left off easy, either. Toad and

his toadies fucked them long into the night, and then watched as the

girlfriends took their turns. And that only roused them to take another go

at the helpless heroines.

The next morning, a FedEx truck pulled up in front of Wade Manor. Brenda

and Lydia were injected with a drug that left them almost unconscious. Toad

said it would last a good forty-eight hours, more than long enough for them

to reach their destination. Then they were put back in their super heroine

costumes, had butt plugs stuffed up their asses, and vibrating dildos pushed

up their twats. Then after they were hog-tied and ball-gagged, the

beautiful super heroines were placed in separate crates and given to the

FedEx man.

“To Victory, boys and girls,” Toad said, lifting a glass of champagne

pilfered from Brenda’s wine cellar. “To Ms Americana’s Pyrrhic Victory that

left her helpless and vulnerable, and our ultimate victory over the forces

of Goodie-goodie-ness.”

THE END