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. The most insidious villain is a product of internet porn sites, especially the ones that debauch sexy super heroines.

Please direct all comments and feedback to dark_one@live.com or visit my blog at: /. Please put Ms Americana, Writer Beware, Story response, feed back or something like that in Subject line or I might delete thinking it is spam.

MS AMERICANA: WRITER BEWARE

By Dark One

Brenda Wade sat at her computer, in her home office. It was early on a Friday afternoon. She'd left work at noon, for an extended weekend. She was dressed comfortably -- for her, anyway -- in tight jeans, red tank top and red pumps.

Lydia was out of town -- Cancun -- with college girl friends. So it was going to be one of those rare weekends off for Ms Americana and her faithful sidekick, Flag Girl.

"So, I guess I'll go surfing," she said. For a lark, she decided to Google "Ms Americana" and see what she pulled up. Last time she tried, a couple years back, she'd discovered dozens of fan sites she never knew about. Brenda was much too busy as a rule to waste time on the internet. "Okay, let's go Googling."

She typed in Ms Americana in Advance Search, in the "with the exact phrase" box. And waited a grand total of five seconds. Then she started scrolling down through the familiar sites dedicated to her and her heroic endeavors.

"What's that? Fanfic? Fan fiction about me?" Brenda said, envisioning pages and pages of her glorious deeds rehashed and dramatized for her adorning fans. How exciting. "Let's check it out."

She found a site with a list of authors. Brenda scrolled through the list of twenty authors. She didn't recognize any of the names. So she just clicked on a name. Dark One. Then frowned. What kind of titles were those? Ms Americana: Sexcapades? Ms Americana: Cat Scratch Fever? Ms Americana: Criminal Behavior?

"Ms Americana: SUPER BIMBO! How dare him!" she cried, baby blues flashing. She clicked on the link, and began reading. She didn't get far. "Outrageous!"

By the end of the second story she read, Brenda's hands were trembling. She never imagined anyone could write stories like that, especially about HER. It had to end. She noticed he had a link to his blog, so clicked on it. If she found more stories there, she was going to explode. But instead, at the top of the page, she read something that made her smile. Smile big.

"Gotcha!" she hissed. "You fool. You're on my turf now."

Dark One stated in his last blog entry, that he was going to a Comic Convention in Delta City, as the Erotica Fan Writer Guest of Honor. The convention started that very day. And that whole "Erotica" thing surprised her. There was NOTHING erotic about the filth he wrote.

"I'm going to a convention tonight," Brenda said.

Brenda headed for her secret Ms Americana dressing room. Within minutes she'd stripped out of her jeans and tank, and was stepping into her red calf boots. Next came her red, white and blue bikini bottoms -- half blue with white stars, half red and white strips. It matched the strapless bikini top she pulled on next, then took a long minute to adjust and plump her 44DDs to get them just right. After that, she put on her blue choker, red star earrings, golden tiara and blue, star spangled mask. Then, after pulling on her red gauntlet gloves, she picked up her golden power belt and snapped it on.

"Oh," she gasped, eyes closing and full red lips parting slightly as a surge or erotic pleasure washed through her voluptuous body. A thrill shiver raced up her spine, and she shook it off. She really loved putting on her belt. It was the closest she got to sex. "I'm ready."

Ms Americana strode purposely away, and soon was in her patriotically themed sports car, racing towards the heart of Delta City. The convention was at the Royal Arms, in the club district between downtown and Sugar Town. In fact, the old hotel was just a block from Sugar Town. Conventioneers liked to have easy access to sleazy women, for some reason. It was disgusting.

It didn't take too long before Ms Americana was parked in the underground garage and striding into the luxurious main lobby. About halfway across the lobby she was brought up short. It was full of costumed people, mostly wearing Star Trek or Star Wars costumes. But she counted eight women in super heroine costumes, including a pair of women with one dressed as Lady Midnight, and the other as Flag Girl. Lady Midnight was holding a leash attached to Flag Girl's collar.

"Great Liberty! A whole convention of degenerates," she said, scowling at the kinky couple.

"Mr. Gall!" someone called, catching the Queen of Justice's attention.

One of the harried convention workers was hurrying across the lobby, overstuffed clipboard in hand. A tall man in jeans and t-shirt stopped and looked back at him. Dark One was dark-haired and medium build, but was growing a gut. He looked very un-impressive. Ms Americana couldn't believe she was wasting her valuable time on that reprobate perv.

Ms Americana made a beeline towards him. He was discussing the details of a "seminar" he would conduct the next day. Probably teaching others to write his lie filled trash. Teaching others to degrade and disrespect hallowed super heroines.

"You!" Ms Americana called, bringing everyone to a stop to gawk at her. Even that depraved writer paused to stare at her. Ok, he was staring at her humongous tits. "I have a bone to pick with you, miscreant."

"Me?" Thom said, looking confused.

"About those LIES you write about me," Ms Americana snarled, assuming a super heroine stance before him. He eyes roamed her statuesque body shamelessly. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Can I?" he said. "You're willing to pose?"

"You disgust me," she said. "I am not a piece of meat. I am a superior woman, and you have no right to write that filth about me."

"Filth? My stories?" he said. Then he grinned. "Hey, babe, you're the one strutting around half naked in primary colors, that shout LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME."

"How dare you! I'm a super heroine."

"Super slut, more like it," he said, gracing her with a truly wicked leering grin. "It it's well known that you super heroine types get captured on a regular basis, and we all know what happens to you then." He wagged his bushy brows at her with an accompanying leer that made her take a step back. "Women with the Aphrodite gene are known for their susceptibility to sexual stimulation, among other interesting things."

The writer had the audacity to wink and nudge the con organizer with his elbow, and the two of them chuckled and nodded. Looking around, she saw everyone was nodding and grinning in the most wicked manner. They all BELIEVED his lies. About HER!

"You monster. You are corrupting my image, destroying my hard won reputation," Ms Americana cried. "I demand you stop writing that trash, and publish a letter rescinding all you ever accused me of."

"I don't think so."

"I think so."

"No," he said. "Make me."

"What?"

"Make me stop," he said, rather smugly. She really wanted to shove that smug face through a wall, or maybe TRY to shove it through something harder. "How are you going to make me stop? It's a free country. Think Freedom of Speech, Ms Ameri-Whiner."

The crowd laughed. Laughed at her.

"It's full of lies! I'll sue for slander."

"Lies? Really? And last year, when the police showed up at that hooker hotel on 69th and Cummins, and you were stripped naked, ball-gagged, tied to a bed and entertaining a line of gang bangers, that was a lie? I've seen the photos online."

"Uh…I…um…that was…um…a MINOR setback, but you are making up elaborate stories surrounding tiny kernels of truth," she said, suddenly on the defensive. "It's mostly not like that."

"Yeah, mostly," Thom said, grinning victoriously. "But I only care about the 'not mostly' parts or your activities, where you get bent over a barrel by bad guys and get your sweet round ass reamed royally."

Ms Americana was too shocked to speak. He knew about that incident last week? She didn't think anyone knew. How did he find out?

"Leave me alone, Ms Cockcandy, or I'll file a restraining order against you," he said. "Bet that would look real bad, and hurt your rep a lot."

Ms Americana watched in flabbergasted silence as Dark One turned and walked away. The crowd laughed and returned to their own business. She was left feeling like an utter fool. How did he do that to her? She was a superior woman. A super heroine. She was the Queen of Justice, dammit. Some second rate pornographer couldn't be allowed to humiliate her like that and get away with it.

The voluptuous vigilante hurried after the writer. He picked up his pace, obviously afraid of her. She smiled smugly, knowing his type well. A coward at heart, hiding behind a computer and internet anonymity. He would not escape her vengeance and divine justice.

Thom turned into a side door. The kitchens. She grinned wider, and increased her pace. He would not escape. The door led into a passage, going straight to the hotel kitchen. She'd been to this hotel many times as Ms Americana, rousting expensive call girls and their pimps. She knew the layout and pitfalls far better than some out of town guest.

"Ms Cockcandy, my ass," she grumbled as she hurried through the kitchen to the back door. She saw him slip through just seconds before. She hate, hate, hated it when they corrupted her legendary super heroine name like that.

Ms Americana darted through the door and outside into an alley. She heard a sound to her right and whirled around. Wide-eyed, she tried to find her target.

"Idiot," a man's voice whispered.

Pepper spray hit her right between her baby blues.

"Yeeeoooww!" Ms Americana cried, red gloved hands clawing and rubbing at her poor tortured eyes.

Thom moved fast. He pulled out his cell phone, and took three quick pictures. Then he kicked her as hard as he could between the legs. Despite the pepper spray, her eyes went wide and her hands reached down to clutch at her brutalized groin. He took another two pictures, then reached out and ripped off the legendary blue, star-spangled mask. Then he took half a dozen pictures as she dropped to her knees in shock.

"Great Liberty! I've been unmasked," she cried. "I'm ruined."

"I have pictures of you before and after unmasking, Ms Americana," Thom said, grinning victoriously. "Stupid bimbo, I write about capturing and subduing super heroines, don't you think I would know what to do if attacked by one?"

"Give me that camera," she said, jumping to her feet. Thom was impressed by how fast she recovered. Impressive. "Give me my mask."

"Ah, stand back or I push send, and your pictures will all be sent to someone that will publish them," Thom said.

Ms Americana froze.

"Good girl. Don't you love camera phones?" he said. She scowled at him, and that made him grin even more wickedly. "Kneel. I mean it, kneel, or else."

Reluctantly, face burning in shame, the legendary Queen of Justice slowly dropped to her knees before the horrid porn writer. How could she fall to such a …a…COMMON man?

"Take off your top," he said.

"What? I'm the Queen of Justice," she said. "Great Liberty, I'm Ms Americana, and I don't do stuff like that, miscreant."

"I have pictures."

"Bastard," she growled, and reached between her massive mams and unfastened the snap. She pulled the cups apart and felt her huge milky globes drop and jostle. He looked very impressed and hungry. The bulge between his legs grew some more. "You won't get away with this."

He, of course, took more pictures. She was helpless to do anything but kneel there in her humiliation.

"You better hope I do, otherwise your little secret will be revealed," he said.

"What kind of monster are you?" she demanded, baby blues flashing.

"The horny kind," he said, and unzipped.

"Great Liberty, not again," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "Do any of you pervs ever have an original thought? It all comes down to sex for you all."

"That's because you are totally fuckable. Fucklicious," he said, and stepped up close with his erect cock bouncing in her face, just inches away. "You know what to do, Ameri-Cocksucker. I heard you give great head. Prove it, or else I push send."

"Oh! You! You…..you evil man, you," she growled, flustered and disgusted.

"Now," Thom said. "That face is too gorgeous to not be sucking on my cock. I want to watch my dick sliding in and out between those sweet red lips, baby, so get to work."

Ms Americana signed deeply, looked beseechingly to the unresponsive heavens. Then she reached up and wrapped her red-gloved, long and delicate fingers around the base of that big cock. It stank of urine and sweat. She swallowed hard, glanced up into his unremorseful blue eyes, and then gave the head a tentative lick. Then a firmer lick. And finally, she rolled her tongue all around the head of his dick, before sucking half of it down right away.

"Oh, yeah, that's how you do it, babe," he said.

She stroked his cock with one hand, fondled his balls with the other and sucked his cock with all she had. The faster he came, the faster she got off her knees. And the sooner she learned what he planned to do with those damned pictures of her unmasked.

As she sucked, her body began to change. She felt the butterflies rise up deep in her lower belly. It was something she dreaded, and secretly, deep, deep down, loved. That twice cursed Aphrodite gene made her a super woman, a super heroine, but it also provided men with the most potent weapon to use against her. Sex. Insidious, delightful, soul smothering sex.

Dark One had power over her. He could decide her fate. She felt so helpless.

"Mmmm," she groaned, surprising herself. The butterflies were starting to melt into that liquid heat that preceded climax. "Ummmmmmhhh."

As the erotic heat washed through her super shapely body, Ms Americana began sucking with more enthusiasm, losing herself in it. Savoring the feel of man in her mouth and hands, of man tastes, of man smell.

"Oh God, you are good," Thom groaned, straining to hold back his ultimate pleasure, to prolong it as much as possible. But she smiled knowingly, and sucked him all the way into her mouth in an erotic rush, and he lost it. Hot cum spurted deep inside her mouth, ballooning her cheeks. "Oh, yeah. Baby, baby, baby, that was great."

Ms Americana sat back on her legs and licked her lips as she watched the look of supreme satisfaction on his face. It was wrong, so terribly wrong.

"I think we can work out a deal," Ms Americana said, glancing at the closed kitchen door, then up and down the alley. It was still early. Maybe six in the evening. So it was still light out, though the alley was drowned in deep shadows. "You got a blow job, and leverage. We both know I can't do anything about you now. Give me my mask, and I will leave."

Oh, she wouldn't stay gone. Ms Americana wouldn't allow him to keep those incriminating pictures. He was from out of town, so didn't recognize her face. The sexy super heroine was positive he would've admitted to knowing her true identity if he recognized her. His disappointment in failing to recognize her flashed only briefly across his face earlier. If he stayed in town too long, he would figure it out. She had to take him down before that happened.

The pictures were in the phone, so she had to get hold of that cell phone. After that, he had nothing on her. And then she would clean his clock. But good.

"Remove the power belt."

"Great Liberty, are you mad?"

"Maybe," he said. "But as long as you are wearing that power belt you will think about trying to save yourself. That makes you a threat, so its decision time again, Ms A. Give me the belt, or I send the pictures to my friend."

"That is outrageous."

"Yeah, whatever. Give me the belt."

He held the cell phone up and away from her, his finger on the SEND button. At first he looked confident she would give up the belt. But she hesitated, considering options. He started getting worried. If she didn't give up the belt, and he sent the pictures, then she had no reason to NOT kick his ass. What would she have to lose?

"Then that's your decision," he said, and started to push the button.

"No! Stop, damn you," she cried, eyes wide in sudden dread. "Okay, I'll give you my belt. For now. I expect to get it back later."

"Yeah, whatever," Thom said, his other hand thrust out to receive the power belt. "Give it to me. Now."

"Everything is 'now' with you," she growled, scowling darkly at him as she hesitantly reached both hands back to the small of her back. She fingered the belt's fastener a long moment, then grimaced and unsnapped the belt. The heady feeling of super strength quickly bled away. "Great Liberty, this is all wrong."

Thom pulled the belt out of her hands. He smiled wide, admired it a long minute, then rolled it up and stuffed down under his belt at the base of his back.

"Stand up, Ms Americana," he said. She rose gracefully to her booted feet. "Now, out of the bikini bottoms, babe."

Ms Americana was forced to remove her bottoms, gloves, choker and earrings. He fished a plastic shopping bag out of a nearby garbage dumpster, and deposited her costume in it. Last, but not least, he personally removed her golden tiara. He took everything expect her boots. He liked the boots on her, so she got to keep them. For the moment.

"Souvenirs," he said, grinning. "Or, battle trophies, if you prefer."

"You won't get away with this."

"I think I will," he said. He pointed down the alley. "Start walking. That way."

Ms Americana was forced to precede him down the alley. She got more than a few looks when they came out onto the street. At that point, he took her by hand and they "strolled" down the street like young lovers. She was terrified some local would recognize her and call out her name. But they just gawked silently at them.

Thom took her one block over to a converted old six story hotel. It was called the Babe Bazaar now. The main entrance was centered on the building, with two topless clubs to either side of the entrance, occupying most of the first floor. The Doll House was on one side, the House of Babes on the other. The Babe Bazaar wasn't a strip club. It was a brothel.

Over the entrance of all three businesses, was painted a large purple P, with a golden crown atop it. It was King Pimp's logo. It showed everyone that he owned those businesses. That meant something in Sugar Town, and in Delta City.

"You can't be serious," Ms Americana said, gritting her teeth as they grew near the Doll House Gentlemen's Club. It was the "classier" of the two strip joints. "I will NOT strip."

"I don't expect you to."

"Good."

"You're going to work at Babe Bazaar," he said. "I found this place last night, and LOVE it."

"You are mad. Ms Americana cannot whore herself," she said. "The legendary Queen of Justice does not whore herself."

"First of all, it is pretentious to refer to yourself in the third person," Thom said. "And it is annoying. And finally, yes, you will whore yourself, then come to me in the hotel after work and give me all of your earnings."

"Or else."

"Exactly."

"One day you will suffer the wrath of Ms Amer….um, you will suffer my wrath," she said.

"Yeah, yeah, right, babe," he said as they reached the entrance. "Get in, and arrange to work here."

Ms Americana paused to stare at the entrance. She'd never been inside of that brothel. Never raided it. Indeed, King Pimp only opened it about two months back. It quickly became popular with the college boys from Frat Row just four blocks away. Indeed, the university was less than a mile from that spot.

"So wrong," she muttered, swallowing hard and starting inside.

"Just do it," he said, letting her move further and further ahead of him down the long hallway from the entrance to the main room. The corridor literally separated the two titty bars to either side. They occupied most of the first floor of the former hotel. "Work your ASS off, then at four in the morning come to my room in the hotel. Room 669. I'll be sending over friends to check on you from time to time tonight. You know, to be customers, so if I hear you aren't here, I will expect retaliation and immediately send the pictures."

"Of course," she sneered. "I'll be here, pervert."

He stopped where the corridor emptied into the main room, the main parlor they called it. Ms Americana was brought up short, too. There had to be over a hundred women in various degrees of nudity, with most wearing lingerie and high heels. It was a sprawling room that had all kinds of strange twists and turns, side rooms and such. Sexy young women were everywhere, singly or in small groups. They were mostly standing by pillars or the wall, smiling at and flirting with the men browsing the merchandise. Many were dancing to the thumping dance music. It looked and sounded like a music video scene, with sexy video vixens everywhere.

ATMs and video games were everywhere, too. Every young man's fantasy.

Ms Americana asked a pretty blonde in red bustier, thongs and thigh boots where the person in charge was to be found. She learned also that the girls rented a room, and kept all their earnings above that. But the management was very picky on who they let work there. The rooms, of course, were quite expensive.

Going to the office in back, she found an old reprobate she'd sent to jail a few times for pimping. He was too told to be a real pimp anymore, so now he worked for King Pimp in that dive. His name was Gus.

"Hello, you're in charge here?" Ms Americana asked.

Gus sat behind his desk, which used to be the old hotel's check-in desk. He had a clear view of most of the parlor. He did a double take.

"Whoa, Nelly! Who are you, Sweet Tits?" Gus said in his deep, gravelly voice. "Do I know you? Have we met?"

"No. I'm new in town," she said quickly. "The name is Alexa. I'd like to work here tonight, to pick up some extra cash. You know?"

"Yeah, I know, Sweet Tits," he said, unable to tear his eyes off her naked tits. "You ever turn tricks before? You're too old to be a coed."

She frowned at him. Ms Americana was thirty-four, but could pass for twenty-four if she did her makeup and clothes right.

"Yeah, I've done a little hooking, pops," she said. The sad part, she really had. Three times in her storied career Ms Americana had been captured and forced into prostitution. The only reason she ever escaped any of them was they got themselves killed by rivals or the police. She never spent more than two months as a hooker, except that eight month stretch Brenda Wade was blackmailed into being a call girl, completely separate from Ms Americana. "So, do I pass muster? Can I work here?"

"Well, you're pretty enough," Gus said, looking her over head to toe slowly. "Okay, our cheapest room is five hundred for twelve hours. Payment up front."

"Oh, that's expensive," she said, looking around for Thom. She didn't have any money. "I don't have any money."

"Then you will have to leave," he said.

"But I don't have any clothes."

"I see that. And I approve," he said, and laughed. "If you have your heart set on working at Babe Bazaar, why don't you go next door to the Doll House. They strip and bring there customers over for sex. The club rents a block of rooms for that purpose."

"I'd rather not," she said, nose crinkled. Stripping would put her up on stage, under a spotlight. Someone would surely recognize her. So Brenda leaned over the counter, letting her 44DDs hang before his eyes enticingly, put her hand on his arm and licked her lips suggestively. "Couldn't we work out some kind of deal?"

"I was hoping you'd suggest that," he said, his deep voice dropping even deeper. "Come on around and let's get it on."

"Great," she said, plastering on an almost sincere smile.

Ms Americana was led to a back room. A bedroom. Gus's bedroom, with a queen-sized bed and black satin sheets. She couldn't image a room or bed that looked more like a pimp's. She stripped him out of his clothes, while he mostly fondled her breasts. Then he laid down in the middle of the bed, and she lay beside him.

"Let's see what you got, girl," Gus said.

"Anything you say, Gus," she said, sat up and bent over his erect black cock. She took it in hand and started sucking. She couldn't hesitate, or she'd never get started. Sucking and fucking a pimp was the lowest of the low. She knew, for she had sucked and fucked more than her fair share in her more than a decade and a half as a super heroine. "Mmmy, delish."

The voluptuous vixen sucked him a good five minutes, then straddled his waist, guided his cock to her pussy, and mounted him. They both groaned wantonly as his ten inch cock pushed deeper and deeper into her sacred body, and his greedy hands found her 44DDs. By the time she'd rode him all the way down his thick shaft, her statuesque body was overheated and sweating, her breathing was coming in pants, and that heady liquid heat was infusing her body.

"Oh, baby, baby, baby," she groaned, not entirely faking it. After giving first Thom a blow job, then Gus, not to mention being paraded through the streets naked, she was highly aroused. That cock was doing her a number, and after just a few short minutes she knew she would climax this time. Since she was about to become an official hooker, she stopped fighting it, and let nature take its course. A mere minute later, that liquid heat transformed into that heady rush to climax. "Oh my! Oh! OH! I'm…cumming. Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-yyeeeeeeooooowwwwww! Oh yes! Baby!"

Then Gus lost his battle, and creamed her pussy. "Oh, yes, Sweet Thing."

Ms Americana felt his cum filling her, and lost it again. "Aaaaaaaaiiiiieeee!"

"Hee hee, you're a nature born hooker if I ever saw one, Alexa."

"Great," she said, grimacing. "My room's paid for now?"

"What? Ha! Funny," he said. "No. BUT, I'll let you pay it off over time."

"Over time?"

"Yep, I get half of all of your tricks until you've paid seven hundred-fifty dollars," he said.

"But you said the room was five hundred."

"Not as cheap on the installment plan, Sweet Tits," he said, and gave her tits another squeeze. "Take it or leave it."

"I have no choice," she said. "What is my room number? Is there a key?"

In some brothels the hookers were not allowed to lock the door. Safety reasons were usually cited. It was mostly so the hired muscle could barge in and save them if a john became violent, but also so they could more easily get to the troublesome girls.

"I like you, so I'll give you a primo room," Gus said.

He dressed while she cleaned up a bit. Then back out to the check-in counter, and she was assigned room 220. Second floor, next to the elevator. Less time traveling to and from her room meant more time fucking, and earning cash. She wasn't sure she was all that pleased.

"Thanks, Gus, you’re the best," she said. "Is there any place I should stand? Or any place reserved for other girls?"

"Everyone has her favorite and/or regular spot. Nothing reserved, but if a girl tells you that you are in her spot, I'd move if I were you," he said. "We generally side with the girls that have been here the longest."

<Bastard,> she thought. But smiled and headed out.

"Are you a hooker?" a geeky man in a Star Trek uniform asked.

Ms Americana stopped and looked him over.

"You want a date with me?" she asked. He nodded eagerly. "Fifty dollars."

"Okay."

"Follow me," she said, and led the little Trekkie geek to the elevators, and up to her room. It was a ten by ten with a small bed. There was a toilet and sink in one corner, but no separate bathroom. She accepted his money first thing, then smiled. "Strip and jump on the bed, babe. I'll take good care of you."

# # #

"Oh! Oh! Oh yes!" Ms Americana cried, head thrown back and hands clutching at her stiletto heels as she bounced on the long, thick cock inside her. She could feel her titanic tits bouncing beneath the pair of huge hands mauling them so wonderfully. "Great…Lib….Aaaaaaaiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee!"

<What was that? Climax one thousand and one?> she thought as she felt herself starting to build towards another. After almost ten hours of nonstop fucking she was climaxing at the drop of a hat. <I've never been fucked so much in my life.>

To her shock and dismay, Babe Bazaar was a rocking place. There was always a small crowd of men and women browsing the girls. Yes, women too. Ms Americana had tried to avoid servicing women, by raising her price for lesbian sex to two hundred dollars, but got three lesbian tricks anyway.

Also, but not really surprising to her, Ms Americana appeared to be the most popular girl in Babe Bazaar. It was rare that she even made it back to her spot in the parlor, and she never stood there more than a moment before her next trick hired her.

Suddenly, the next climax rose up to the precipice, forcing a gasp out from her full red lips. Ms Americana groaned wantonly, gyrating her hips even as she slid up and down that cock.

"Oh, Roberto! I think I am….uh….cuuuummmmiiiinnnnng!" she cried, and then came again. "Aaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"Aaayyyeee!" Roberto cried, releasing his seed deep inside the sexy super heroine's twat.

"You're the best, babe," Ms Americana said and sighed deeply. She was so hot and sweaty. Had been for hours. But Roberto was her last trick of the night. In fact, it was four thirty, half an hour past when she was supposed to go to Thom's room. But she accept Roberto's offer because she was just fifty shy of an even two thousand, after paying Gus his seven hundred fifty. In that time she'd fucked as many as ten men in one hour, counting multiples. She had to give it that extra hustle, because the three lesbians took way to long to do. "But you have to get dressed fast. I'm running late."

"What? Pimp waiting on you?" he said.

She stopped and frowned a second. "Yes."

Ms Americana put on the red bikini one of the other girls had given her. The gift was not out of friendship or female unity or anything. The sexed up super heroine was sure it was a vain attempt to cover her best assets up so maybe some of the other girls might have a chance at a trick or two. Didn't matter, though, Ms Americana was grateful for that super skimpy bikini.

It was close to five in the morning when Ms Americana knocked on Dark One's door at the Royal Arms. He was wearing a blue terrycloth robe. He grinned at her and held out his hand. She put the money in his hand, and walked past him into the room when he waved her inside.

"I think that I more than fulfilled my end of the bargain," Ms Americana said haughtily. "Now, give me my costume and power belt, and I will leave."

"First off, the power belt won't do you any good after getting fucked all night," he said, chuckling. "Secondly, what bargain? I have you dead to right, so you do what I tell you to do."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, Ms Big Tits, that me and you are going to bed. You are going to give me the ride of my life, and at about ten you are going back to the Babe Bazaar and I am going to the convention," Thom said. He stepped up close, pulled off her top and began to fondle her tits. "I’m going to pimp you out all weekend, babe. Deal with it."

With that, he pulled her in close and kissed her passionately. Ms Americana was helpless to do anything but respond. After ten and a half hours of fucking, she was revved up big time. Horny as hell. So she found herself kissing back, arms wrapped around him.

Within seconds she found herself on the bed, her unexpected pimp between her wide spread legs. He wasn't wearing anything under the robe, and before she knew it another cock was invading her most intimate space.

"Uuuuggghhhh," she groaned, back arched and eyes rolled up into her head.

Thom started sucking and fondling her tits as he fucked her. She writhed and clutched at him and the bed sheets, and was soon gasping and panting. In the back of her mind she knew it was embarrassing the way she was reacting, knew it was just proving to him she truly was the suppressed slut he claimed she was in his stories. But she couldn't help herself. It felt that damned great.

"Great Liberty! Aaaaayyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeee! Oh my God! I'm going to cum again….Aaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeee!" she cried, panted hard a long moment, then her baby blues went wide again. "Great Lib…….aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"My lord, you are fucking machine, babe," Thom said, laughing. "Here, take this." And he creamed her pussy. That, of course, pushed her over the top again, and she screamed her orgasm. Then he pulled out, flipped her over and shoved his cock up her poop chute. "I'm sodomizing Ms Americana!"

"Oh, not there," she cried, and groaned as his cock pushed deeper and deeper. "I managed to avoid that all night, and then you did it."

"Thanks, I appreciate you keeping it virginal for me," Thom laughed.

Thom fucked Ms Americana in every orifice of her luscious body, then she finished off by giving him a rousing titty fuck and getting a creamy facial from him. After she cleaned up, he bound her hand and foot and they got four good hours of sleep.

A little after ten that morning, Ms Americana headed back over to Babe Bazaar with enough money from Thom to pay for a room. He didn't want to "waste" two hundred and fifty dollars. She was also given enough to buy some hooker clothes. She visited a boutique and bought red thigh boots, matching leather skirt and a black leather halter top with dog collar. Add some cheap jewelry, and she was ready for work.

Ms Americana worked from ten in the morning that Saturday, until four in the morning. Eighteen hours. She did get a couple breaks for food and some much needed rest, but no more than thirty minutes at a time. But even with breaks, and two free sessions with Gus, the overachieving superior woman managed to fuck her way into five thousand dollars. That was averaging over five tricks an hour. Half of those seemed to come from the convention. Thom even visited to check on her, and get a shot of ass, a couple times.

Then after another short sleep night, Ms Americana found herself in Babe Bazaar Sunday morning around eleven. Yeah, he let her sleep in. She gave Gus a blow job, paid for her room and went to work. She hoped it was a short day of turning tricks. The convention was officially over at noon. Surely Thom would go back home at that time, and leave her to her own devices. She talked Gus into reducing her room rate for two twelve hour shifts to seven fifty, instead of one thousand.

<I might as well hang around the rest of the night and have some fun,> she thought, a tiny smile of anticipation on her full red lips. <Maybe I'll come back and give it away free after Thom releases me tonight.>

Sunday morning was just a bit slower than the previous two days. Ms Americana, A.K.A. Alexa, actually had time to speak to a few of the other hookers. Mostly, they were college girls paying for their tuition. Around noon, Gus came out and took Ms Americana, a big titted blonde and a big titted redhead back inside the office, where they had to put on a girl-on-girl-on-girl sex show for the manager and his hired muscle, followed by the three girls being passed around. They took it all in stride, since Gus claimed a couple of the girls several times a day for his thugs to fuck.

It was all part of doing business at Babe Bazaar.

It picked up in the afternoon. Only about sixty girls were working, so they were kept constantly busy. Very few men from the convention showed up, since it ended at noon and they'd pretty much all checked out of the hotel and went home. So it was the usual degenerates again, according to the other girls.

Ms Americana left Babe Bazaar at five for "lunch." She went straight over to the hotel. Dark One never contacted her, and she wanted to ensure he had finally gone and left her alone. Once she determined he was truly out of her life, Ms Americana decided she would return to Babe Bazaar to finish out her night. After all, she was having much more fun with it. There was less stress to perform, so she could relax and enjoy.

"I might as well keep working until my room rent is up," she said as she strutted down the street, noticing how everyone was stopping to watch her pass. She smiled wickedly. "I paid so much for it, after all. And, tonight is my last sexual hurrah. It's back to prim and proper Brenda and heroic Ms Americana tomorrow."

She went straight up to Thom's room and knocked. Nothing. She smiled.

"Excellent," she said, and turned on a heel to stride away.

And the door opened.

"Oh!" she squeaked. He only wore jeans, like he was waiting for her. "Thom. You're here."

"Where else would I be?" he said. "Come in."

"I thought….when you didn't answer right away," she stammered.

"Thought I left? Ha! Not until I deal with you, my bound beauty," he said.

Ms Americana squeezed past him and entered the room. She headed straight for the bed. He always wanted to fuck her and get her back to work as quickly as possible. But first, she would put her earnings on the table.

"Wait," Thom said urgently.

She spotted his cell phone sitting on the table just as he called out. The phone with all of his evidence. The phone's contents were his ONLY hold on her. Ms Americana leapt forward, tossing all of her money aside and grabbed that all important electronic device.

"Mine!" she cried, flipped it open and twisted it in half with her bare hands. Then she dropped the two pieces, and drove her stiletto heel through each half, totally destroying the cell phone and making it impossible for anyone to salvage any information from it. "Ha-ha! I'm free!"

"Bitch!" he cried, grabbed her by the hair and jerked her backwards.

Ms Americana was spun around as she fell backwards. He slammed a hard fist into her belly. She cried out in pain, not used to being struck without her power belt. The pain was incredible.

"Ugh!"

She stumbled backwards, until she hit the bed. As she fell back on the bed Ms Americana spotted Thom charging her with a grim, determined look. She knew just a second of panic, knowing she was without her power belt, and that she'd been climaxed so much that day it was useless to her anyway. But then indignation kicked in.

<I'm Ms Americana! The Queen of Justice,> she thought, baby blues flashing. <I'm a superior woman, and more than a match for some overweight couch potato writer, with or without my power belt.>

As Thom closed on her, she pulled her legs up, until her knees pressed against her breasts, then kicked straight out. Her booted feet hit Thom square in the chest.

"Ooof!" he cried, kicked back across the small room and into the wall. "Ugh."

Ms Americana kicked so hard her voluptuous body was pulled off the bed and back to her feet. In her five inch stiletto boots she stood eye-to-eye with him. He outweighed her by close to a hundred pounds, but she was fast and martial arts trained. The Queen of Justice grinned wickedly and took a swing at the hated man's face.

He proved faster than she anticipated, and ducked aside. She feared he would get inside her guard and get a debilitating blow to her kidney. So she dropped low and swept her leg through his feet. It was Thom's turn to take a tumble into the bed.

"Hey, where are you going?" she said, grinning, when he rolled off the bed and raced away. "I'm just starting to have fun."

Ms Americana shook her head woefully. The fool didn't go for the door, and escape. He ran the other way. He was trapped, and she would exact her pound of flesh with relish. Then he reached his open suitcase, and began riffling through it.

If he had a gun, she was a goner. Without her power belt, and the pent of sexual frustrations it took to fuel it, she had no defense against projectile weapons like guns. So she took off after him.

"Get out of there, miscreant," she growled, grabbing his shoulder and jerking him back and away from the suitcase. He stumbled back onto the bed again. "Now it is time I give you a lesson in pain, and teach you to properly fear and respect for superior women."

"Ha! No one fears or respects natural born whores like you," Thom sneered. "Remember, I've fucked you. Many times. You ALWAYS submit so sweetly, so completely. I've seen how enthusiastically you whore yourself over at Babe Bazaar. You were PROUD of being the top earner of the night last night."

"Quiet, you vile miscreant," she said, baby blues flash.

His words hurt the more because they were so true. But, she told herself, she was top earner because she always excelled at everything she did. Superior women were superior in everything they did. So, she couldn't help being the best and most profitable hooker at Babe Bazaar.

"Whore," he sneered. "Did you cum while sucking Gus's dick? While sucking that OLD PIMP's dick?" He laughed. "Yes, I know about that. You enjoyed sucking your old adversary's cock, didn't you? Admit it, you LOVED it."

"Aaaagghhhh! Great Liberty, I will grind you into the dirt!" she cried, and charged him in full rage.

Thom feigned left, then right. Ms Americana wasn't fooled. Seconds later, she slammed bodily into him. She forced him up against the wall and their eyes met for a brief moment. He locked victorious eyes with her, to her surprise.

Then something sharp stabbed her in the abdomen. A second later….

Zzzzzaaaaaaaaaappppppppp!

"Yeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooowwwwww!"

Ms Americana's beautiful face looked shocked, her arms flew out to the side and her back arched as her head rolled back. She made a long, painful croaking noise as the taser ripped her a new asshole with electricity. It was an extra heavy duty taser, newly developed for use in the nation's toughest, roughest prisons. The taser was designed to take down the biggest, baddest criminals in the world.

Perfect for use against a super heroine, as well.

"Oh, shocking, isn't it, Ms Americana?" Thom said, and laughed as he zapped her four times longer than necessary.

When he pulled the taser back, Ms Americana collapsed bonelessly at his feet. He grinned down at her a long moment, then set the taser on the nightstand. He quickly removed her black leather halter top, then pulled off her red leather mini skirt. With Ms Americana in nothing but red thigh boots and jewelry, Thom picked her up and tossed her on the bed. She groaned and rolled over onto her belly.

"Oh, you want it up the butt first? Okay by me," Thom said, smiling wickedly.

He shed his jeans. Thom climbed onto the bed behind Ms Americana. He grabbed her well rounded hips, lifted her rump higher, then guided her rock hard cock straight to and into her much abused sphincter.

"Uuugghhh," she groaned, arching her back and clutching at the bedcovers. "No. Uugghh, Great Liberty. This isn't right."

After a day of raunchy sex, Ms Americana's statuesque body was quickly firing on all cylinders. She felt the butterflies almost immediately after penetration, and the liquid heat began soon after that. Her heart pounded and it became so hard to get enough air. Then he grabbed a fistful of silky soft black hair and jerked her head back painfully.

"I own you, bitch," he growled. "What's your secret identity? Tell me."

"No," she groaned. "I'm Ms Americana, the Queen of……Oooohhhhhh."

Thom started pounding his cock into her rump with force. She gnawed on her lower lip and groaned, because the butterflies were consumed in the erotic heat that consumed her spectacular body. She began panting and grunting with every thrust of his mind scrambling cock. She tried to fight the building climax, but her defenses were breached two days back, so that orgasm had no resistance to speak of, and rolled right over her.

"Aaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Great Liberty, he's trying to tame me!" she cried. She clutched and pulled at the bedcovers so mindlessly hard, she pulled the sheets up in a pile beneath her, exposing the mattress underneath. And another orgasm struck her, "Oooooooouuuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhhh!"

"Yes," Thom cried, and filled her bunghole with cum. He smiled evilly, then swatted her shapely ass, enjoying how that firm, round ass jiggled beneath his hard slap. "Flip over, babe. Daddy wants a piece of pussy pie."

"Oh, you monster," she groaned, reluctantly complying with his commands and rolling over onto her back beneath him. "Haven't you done enough to me? You've pimped me out. You've fucked me seven ways to Sunday three days in a row. What more can I give you? You've had me in every orifice of my body, titty fucked me a dozen times, and creamed my face and tits as many times. What other indignities could you possibly force me to suffer?"

"Absolute defeat," he said. "And then sell you into sexual slavery."

"Great Liberty! You want to sell me into white slavery?"

"Duh," he said. He pushed her knees wide, and moved up closer. Then he guided his still hard cock straight into the slit of her sopping wet cunt. "You're a nature born whore. You're wasting your talents fighting crime."

With that, Thom thrust hard and impaled the flabbergasted super heroine upon his cock. She writhed and groaned, gasped and cried out with tiny animal noises as he began battering down the last of her defenses.

He grabbed her 44DDs with both hands and began to fondle her. He mashed and squeezed, caressed and pinched those fatty titties. Then he bent over to suck in a nipple, whereas he commenced sucking, licking and nibbling as well as mashing, squeezing and caressing. It took longer for him to cum the second time, and he managed to rip out five climaxes from Ms Americana's oversexed body.

After he creamed her pussy, Thom pulled out and climbed off the bed. He dragged her over to the side by the hair, and forced her to kneel there.

"Lick me clean," he commanded.

Ms Americana cut him a dark look, but she was too exhausted from a long day of fucking, and the tasering. Besides, Thom's fucking of her was much more prolonged and intense than her paid for sessions with johns. She did as told, and spent a good five minutes licking his cock and balls completely clean.

"You give the best tongue baths, babe," Thom said. And he tasered her again. "Now, what is your name? Your real name."

"Ms Americana."

Zzzaaappp!

"Who are you really? Not that Ms Americana crap, but your real name."

Zzzaaappp!
"Ugh! Mercy!"

"Give me your name!"

Zzaapp!

"I can't …….Uuuuuuggghhhh!" she cried when zapped again. "Great Liberty! Mercy!"

"Mercy will cost you your name."

Zzaaaaaapp! Zapp! Zzzzaapppp!

"Brenda!" she cried desperately. "Great Liberty, I'm Brenda Wade!"

"The philanthropist goodie-two-shoe?"

"Yes."

Thom thought about it a moment. Then smiled wide. "Wow, I can see it now. I used to think she had a great body, and shouldn't cover it up with that school marm feminist look. This is perfect."

"I'm glad you're happy," she said with supreme sarcasm.

"I'm sure," he said. "Face away from me, Brenda."

"What are you doing?" she said nervously, being guided to kneel with her back to him at the edge of the bed. "What are you going to do with me?"

"You'll see," he said. "But first, we're going to indulge my bondage fantasy."

<Oh great,> she thought.

Thom pulled out of a sack some bright red rope. First thing, he tied her wrists together behind her back with a dozen loops of rope. Then he cut off that length of rope and did the same to her arms just above her elbows. It was supremely uncomfortable for the sexy super heroine, but she'd been bound like that a dozen times before. Nothing new, until he then used more rope to loop around her waist and forearms, thus binding her arms tightly to her back at waist level. It was the most securely tied her arms ever were.

That done, Thom made her swing her mile long legs off the bed and side on the edge of it. Then he tightly bound her ankles together with multiple loops, before wrapping more rope above and below her knees. And finally, he pulled a bright red ball gag from the sack and forced it between her teeth, fastening it behind her head.

"There, you never looked lovelier, I'm sure," he said. "I know you've never been tied up more securely, more helplessly."

"Mmmmmmuugghhh," she groaned, shaking her head angrily. She glared daggers at him. "Uuuuggghhhh."

"Yes, I am going to sell you to a pimp, why do you ask?" he said, and laughed.

Ms Americana's baby blues went wide, and she immediately began to struggle within her bonds. She writhed and pulled and twisted, but all to no avail. Meanwhile, Thom went over to the phone and dialed a number as he smiled smugly at her.

"Hello? This is Thom," he said. He listened a moment, then nodded. "Yep. I got the package all wrapped up real pretty. By the way, you are in for a big surprise. Come on up."

He hung up the phone and grinned. "Your new master is on the way up right now. I think you'll be as unpleasantly surprised as he will be pleasantly surprised."

Ms Americana didn't know what that meant but she didn't like it. She struggled some more, but stopped once she realized he was enjoying the way her big tits flopped and jounced around. Then she froze completely when someone knocked on the door.

"Ah, you're moment of truth," he said, and opened the door.

"Uugh! Mmmmm!" she cried into the ball gag, horrified and appalled. It just got worse. Much worse. She shook her head NO in denial. "Mmmmmgghh!"

"Oh my God, is it?" King Pimp said, stepping past Thom. He rushed over to the bound and helpless heroine, grabbed her chin and studied her face intently. "It is! This is Brenda Wade."

"And Ms Americana," Thom said.

"Uuuuuggghhhhh," Ms Americana groaned, her world torn apart.

Ms Americana knew she would never escape King Pimp. The Palace was like a fortress. No super heroine had been able to penetrate its defenses. A few had tried and failed, never to be seen in public again. Dark rumors said those hapless heroines were deep within the bowels of The Palace, turning tricks for their evil pimp and master.

"Brenda Wade is Ms Americana?" King Pimp said, amazed and delighted. "Bingo! You've hit the mother lode, man."

"And she's all yours at the agreed upon price," Thom said.

King Pimp signaled to a lackey and that man quickly hurried in and sat a suitcase on the room's desk. He opened it up to reveal it filled to the max with one hundred dollar bills.

"Excellent," Thom said. "Then we have a deal. Enjoy your slave girl."

"Oh, I will. I will," King Pimp said, picking Ms Americana up in his arms. "Time to go home, Brenda 'Ms Americana' Wade. Then time for you to start earning your keep, bitch. Oh yeah."

THE END