Delta City PI
by DeannaTroi

This is a work of fiction and contains adult content that should not be read by anyone under 18 orwhatever is the legal age for your location. I have enjoyed many of the Ms. Americana and other heroine stories, but lately they have seemed to no longer be the fantasy / parody stories they once were, but have taken a darker and nastier turn in many cases. I guess I am just old fashioned.  I certainly don't mind the heroines having their share of sexual problems, but not all heroines aireair headed  bimbos and the total degredation and enslavemnt of women by men does little or nothing for me....we alredy have reality for that.  I wrote this story with some of the things I find enjoyable in it, and hopefully a few of you will too, and maybe you will think about heroines a bit differently.  Nancy and Cyril are my own creations, all other characters in this story belong to others.  If you want to include Nancy in any of your own stories, feel free, but please keep her character true to what is shown in this story.
 
Feel free to send any feedback to troi@hotmail.com 


Nancy stared at the scene in front of her and sighed.  She was parked in the shadows on a street in Sugartown, the red light district of Delta City.  In front of her in the middle of the street were two of Delta City’s most prominent superheroines, Ms. Americana and her sidekick flag Girl.  Both heroines were more or less stripped naked except for boots and masks and had a large cock stuffed in their mouths while about a dozen members of the Flaming Skulls stood around waiting their turn with a smattering of hookers and others watching the proceedings. 

 Nancy sighed again.  The private eye had seen it all go down and she winced at her mental pun as the large cocks went down the heroine’s throats until they were ball sdeep.  The two superheroines had boldly stepped out to accost the gang as they brazenly walked down thestreet collecting money from the girls they whored out.  As usual, the fight had gone well for the busty heroines.  They had kicked Flaming Skull butt right up until the pointwhere they stopped with hands on hips to sneer at the fallen gang members who lay moaning and groaning on the ground.  Then two of the hookers had snuck up behind them and pulled off their power belts and now reduced to little more than normal strength, they had quickly fallen to the recovering gang bangers.  It had all been so bloody predictable.

Nancy sighed for a third time and turned the key in the ignition and floored her little Honda Civic. The car was dented and banged up, but Nancy kept the engine in perfect running order.  No one would steal the car based on its appearance, but it was as reliable as it was decrepit looking.  The private eye gunned the car towards the cluster of gang members gathered around the two heroines.  They looked up at the flash of headlights and the sound of the gunned engine and scattered, but several of them went bouncing off the car, adding to the dents.  Nancy doubted any got hit hard enough to be fatal, but she didn’t much care anyway as scum like that were not worth worrying about.  The two goons with their cocks down the heroine’s throats stood transfixed, unable to move, but the heroines knew a rescue when they saw one and slammed punchs home to the balls of their attackers who howled and stumbled back.  Nancy flung open the back seat and the two naked heroines tumbled in, having stopped only long enough to grab their power belts, abandoning the rest of their costumes.

“Where to ladies?” asked Nancy as the Civic roared away down the street leaving angry and injured gangers strewn about. The two naked heroines looked at each other as they faced a dilemma.  The PI knew they would like to say either Wade Manor or the Wade building where the corporate offices of the Wade Company were located, but they were not about to admit their secret identities as Brenda Wade and her ward Lydia Willis to a total stranger.  On the other hand, they were not keen about being let out stark naked in the middle of the city.  For her part, Nancy was not going to admit she already knew their secret identities.  In the end, the two women selected a location about a milefrom Wade Manor on a quiet side street.  Nancy estimated there was a fifty fifty chance of them getting home without further adventures of the sexual kind.		

Nancy drove home and let herself into her small studio apartment.  She sat down in an arm chair and took out her tablet.  It looked like a normal tablet until she fired up the solitaire app.  When the screen was pressed in a specific place, the cards could be moved around into four rows of thirteen and she moved them into a specific order.  Even if someone knew about the special feature, the odds of them getting the cards in the correct order were astronomical.  Even then, the tablet required a fingerprint and retinal scan before reconfiguring itself to the special mode and gave accesss to her special apps.

Nancy touched an icon on the reconfigured tablet and a computerized voice spoke “ready to record audio”.  Nancy paused for a moment and then began to speak.

“Interm Report
Prepared by: Nancy Peye
 It has been one year since I came to Delta City to investigate it as instructed.  Delta City exists in one of the infinite universes of the multiverse, but it is one of the oddest in existence and I was charged to determine if it is any threat to the rest of reality.”

The private eye paused the recording as she stopped to think and remember.  Her employers.  She didn’t really know who or  what they were.  How odd was that?  Almost as odd as her own life. There was no mirror in the main room, but she didn’t have to go look in the small bathroom vanity mirror to know what she would see.  She would see a woman with shoulder length  blondehair with blue eyes about thirty years of age.  There were two problems with that.  The first was that she had no memory of her life other than the last ten years.  What went before then was a total blank.  The second problem was that ten years ago she had looked like a woman of about thirty and in that time she had not changed at all.  No wrinkles, no sagging, totally unchanged.  What the hell did that mean?  Sometimes when she lay in bed at night unable to sleep, she thought a lot about that and so far had come up with no answers.  Her very first memory was of waking up ten years ago in a featureless gray walled room.  A voice in her mind had told her what her name was. The voice had only given her a first name, and she had never thought to question that until she had been forced to invent one for her PI license when she came to Delta City.   It had then told her that her services were required for tasks it would assign.  It had not asked her if she wanted to do them or not.  It just seemed to assume she would and she had done them without question.  She felt she had the freedom to refuse, but did not chose to do so for reasons she did not understand.  The voice she heard in her mind changed.  Sometimes it was male, sometimes it was female, sometimes she could not tell what it was.  To Nancy, the voices were simply her employers.  And those employers appeared to be a force for good.  For ten years she had carried out the tasks given to her.  Sometimes it was as simple as finding a missing child, sometimes it was rescuing a kidnapped head of state.  The tasks sometimes lasted only hours or days.  Some were longer and her current assignment was by far the longest she had been given.  For a full year now, she had been in Delta City studyingthe things that happened here.

“It has become obvious that Delta City and other similar locales are being controlled and manipulated by some entity or power.  I have not yet been able to identify the power or beings behind it or what their purpose is.  It may be that they are merely conducting an experiment in social construction or they might just be satisfying a perverted desire for sexual voyeurism.  Whatever the purpose and whoever these powers are, their existence seems certain.  I cite two main sources of evidence.  The first is the so called Aphrodite gene and the second is the weird temporal fluctuations that occur with amazing frequency.

I do not have anything more than rudimentary training in genetics, but the genetic analysis software provided to me is definite in its findings.  I obtained genetic samples from numerous Delta City heroines and analysis shows that the Aphrodite Gene is not a natural occurance or mutation but a product of genetic manipulation.  While it is referred to as if it were a single gene, obviously a single gene could not affect so many traits and the Aphrodite Gene is actually a collection of genes found on the X chromosome of the 23rd pair.

There is no possibility that the Aphrodite Gene could occur naturally.  Its expressions are many and often quite bizarre with both physical and mental components.  All Aphrodite woman are incredibly beautiful with bust sizes that can often be staggering to behold.”  The detective looked down at her own 48EE melons and wondered not for the first time if she had some variant  of the Aphrodite Gene.  The genetic analysis software had refused to tell her and what the hell did that mean?  “All Aphrodite woman have some super power potential, though it does not always become activated fully.  They all possess some increased strength and healing ability, but can dramatically excede that with powers such as the ability to fly, super strength, etc..”  Again the blonde stopped to consider herself.  She was stronger than she looked.  She was not Superman strong, but more Captain America strong if she applied comic book terms to herself.  She was as strong as a very strong male, but she was not going to lift cars over her head.  She also had an enhanced healing ability.  Again to apply comic book comparisons, she was no Wolverine who could survive just about anything short of a nuclear explosion.  But she could take more punishment than normal and keep operating.  Did that make her an Aphrodite?  “Perhaps the weirdest part of the Aphrodite Gene is a vastly increased libido.  Once touched off, an Aphrodite Gene heroine seems to become an insatiable sex crazed woman.  It is so bad, that if they experience multiple orgasms, they become ‘tamed’ in that they enter a state where they become willing sexual slaves to the person who tamed them.”  This, Nancy reflected was the main argument against her being an Aphrodite.  Her sexual libido seemed abnormally low and she had never felt any desire to seek out sexual interaction and when it had occurred, she had not felt any inclination to wanting more or being tamed by her orgasms.  

Nancy had been exposed to sex and had even used it to accomplish some of the tasks set out by her employers, but it had just been another tool like her proficiency with a gun or the martial arts or her ability to escape nearly any bonds she was put in.  When she had arrived in Delta City , she had set up a practice as a Private Eye as a cover for her activities.  As a private eye, she could go pretty much anywhere, investigating and asking questions without anyone thinking it was odd in any way.  It turned out in Delta City that all it took to get a PI license was 500 bucks and an annual renewal fee of 250 dollars.  There was supposed to be a background check, but the clerk at city hall had suggested there were other ways to byposss that and she had crawled under his desk to pass her background test.  She had felt some humiliation when she came out from under the desk, wipingthe white sticky goo from her lips and had been seen by a few other city employees, but it had been necessary and nothing more.

“The mental aspects of the Aphrodite Gene are also very ludicrous  For example, all the heroines in Delta City wear the skimpiest costumes imaginable.  They justify them by claiming that they provide a distraction when fighting ‘mere males’ and to some extent they are correct.  Often they gain a Ctemporary advantage in a fight when their opponents stop to ogle their boobs, but it is fleeting and in general it just makes their opponents more determined to overpower them, rape them and tame them.  Many of the heroines have objects of power that are easily lost alongwith their costume and thusdepowering them and leaving them totally vulnerable.  The power jewel of Got Gal is an obvious example.  She uses it to hold her top together.  The top gets ripped off, out pop her tits and so longto her powers.  Ms. Americana and Flag Girl rely on power belts that detach almost at any touch and thus they are deprived of their powers.  There is no logical reason for these wardrobe decisions other than mental defects created by the Aphrodite Gene.  

Another example of the mental impairment is the need to pose and pronounce their superiority.  I have observed numerous times, including tonight, where a heroine is winning a fight, but stops to pose and gloat and promptly gets knocked out, depowered and then raped.  If it was merely nurture, they would learn from this mistake, but they never do.  It is an inbred part of the Aphrodite Gene.”

Suddenly there was a beep from Nancy’s tablet and she recognized it as an alert from another app.  It was the app that tapped into every camera and Internet feed in the city, constantly scanning for information about the delta city heroines.  When Nancy opened the app, she was treated to a video of a pair of naked blondes.  The two masked woman were tied up on a large bed facing each other so their tits were squished into each other.

Nancy recognized the two heroines from their blonde hair and masks.  They were Green Spectre and her sidekick Spectre girl.  The private eye looked at the top of the screen and saw as she had guessed that she was watching an Internet feed from some super villain or maybe just a common pimp.  They had obviously captured the heroines and stripped them and were now broadcasting it for the world to see.  It might just be to humiliate the heroines, or maybe they planned to auction them off. Then Nancy noticed the large two headed dildo shoved into the pussies of the two women and winced.  The blonde PI knew that Green Spectre and Spectere Girl  were in fact the mother and daughter pair of Axanna Morgan and her teen daughter Summer.  The mother and daughter looked mortified to be tied up like that sharing the dildo and their boobs rubbing on each other.  It soon got worse.  As the heroines fought to get out of their bonds, all they accomplished was to drive the two headed dildo in and out of each other until they were moaning softly with pleasure. The two women were obviously trying to resist what their bodies demanded, what the damned Aphrodite gene was driving them to do, but in the end they had to give in to the inevitable.  Mother and daughter began to kisss in aincestuous lesbian act and actively grind their boobs together as they drove the dildo back and forth between them.

Nancy reduced the video window on herscreen so she didn’t have to watch the incest any longer.  She had no idea where the Spectres were being held, but maybe one of her sources could tell her.  The best bet was Cyril and checking her watch, Nancy saw it would be at least an hour before Cyril could be found at the Pussycat strip club where she always met with him.  In the meantime, she might as well continue with her report.

“As I said earlier, the second major piece of evidence for some type of intelligent manipulation of people and events here are the temporal anomalies.  In the year I have been here, Ms. Americana has been defeated and unmasked a total of eighttimes.  Four times she was sold overseas as a sex slave, and four times she has been forced into workingas a prostitute right here in Delta City.  Yet, even tonight, I encountered her fighting crime….well mainly she was sucking cock, but she is once more masked and operating as a super heroine with no one knowing her secret identity of Brenda Wade.  After a heroine is defeated, tamed and unmasked, the entire city or maybe this entire universe reboots itself.  Everything is restored back to a new starting point, with none of the villains or anyone for that matter remembering Ms. Americana’s secret identity.  The same holds true for all the other super heroines in Delta City.  Only my status as an outside observer to this universe allows me to retain any memory of what happened.  Even if Ms. Wade has signed away her entire fortune under duresss, when the system reboots, she is once more back in charge of her entire financial empire.

While I said the city returns to its previous state, that is not entirely true.  There seems to be some sort of experimentation going on with regards to the heroines and their environment.  For example, sometimes Ms. Americana is pretty much a total air headed bimbo while at other times she is very intelligent and capable of designingand building  complex equipment. Her bust size sometimes changes as do a number of other factors.  Sometimes she has a pair of evil step brothers who may control some or even all of the Wade fortune.  Her sexualpreferences can vary from straight to bi to outright lesbian or even having a fetish for bestiality.  When you meet Ms. Americana and the other heroines after a reboot, yu never know what you will encounter.  It is rather like multiple authors were writing stories about the same character.  The results can be humerous or dark or anything inbetween.  I have come to think of it as sort of a Groundhog day effect, but on a large city wide scale.

What the purpose of such experimentation is remains unclear.  Breast and penis size are two variables that seem to be of the most interest.  New heroines inevitably have racks that are larger and larger, verging on the ridiculous and impossible.  The heroines, as a result of the conditioning of the Aphrodite gene, are inordinately proud of their breast size and as mentioned previously wear costumes that can hardly contain their  boobs.  They regard being “topped” as they call it as a mere routine nuisance for the most part though often angry with their opponent for doing it.  Penis size also seems to vary as does the heroine’s reaction to them.  The heroine’s often are “size queens” who consider any cock below fourteen inches to be small despite the objective evidence about what constitutes an average size for a penis.  Mutoids and other creatures often have a penis of eighteen inches or more…sometimes much more.  While it is clearly impossible for any woman to accommodate such a large penis in any of her openings, this happens to super heroines on a regular basis.  Someone or something is clearly experimenting with the laws of physical reality to allow for such impossible couplings.  Despite their oft stated abohorance of the evil villains and their creations and their over sized dicks, the heroines often seem to go out of their way to see and interact with them.  And by interaction, I mean quite bluntly, to get their brains fucked out by those huge monster cocks.

It should also be noted that the experimentation is not totally restricted to the super heroines and the super villains.  It seems to affect “normal” men and women in Delta City.  With very few exceptions, the relationship between the two sexes is badly distorted.  Given the merest provocation, most men in Delta City can easily turn into a rapist or at least be willing to watch a rape without any qualms or thought of interfering.  When Ms. Americana has been sold into prostitution, there is always a huge lineup of men willing to bang the humbled heroine and no one questioning or trying to help.  If a heroine is found unconscious in an alley, the first reaction of virtually all males is to rape her.  There are very few examples of males acting with any honour or integrity.  Most seem corrupt and their masogonistic tendancies exaggerated to the nth degree.

Likewise it is easy to discern experimentation with normal females.  There is an almost total lack of compassion for a defeated and humiliated super heroine.  In fact, women might well join in the rape or cheer the rape of the fallen heroine.  There is also an unhealthy tendancy to accept their own sexual mistreatment as normal.  They often seem to revel in their forced roles as hookers and strippers and like tonight they blindly and willingly aid their oppressors rather than siding with the heroines who are nominally trying to help to freee them for the oppression.  It is Stockholm Syndrome but on steroids.

Nancy glanced at her watch and stopped her report.  She needed to get ready to pay a visit on Cyril if she was going to be able to do anything for the Spectres.  Technically, she was only supposed to observe and not interact with the denizens of this city more than she had to and certainly not to be going around rescuing the heroines.  But as she had spent more time in Delta City, she found it harder and harder to just watch the outrages being performed on the heroines.  When she could, the private eye had taken to pulling off the odd rescue if she thought she could do so without jeprodiizing her mission.  She was not sure if her unknown employers would approve, but she found she could not just stand by idily and do nothing.  In some ways, she knew it was pointless.  If her rescue failed, the heroine would just be rebooted and life would carry on as before for the heroine with only Nancy knowing what had happened.  Still, it was just not within her nature to just let these women or any women for that matter be so casualy degraded as if they were nothing more than pieces of busty meat.

Nancy’s thoughts turned to Cyril.  He was not a good man, but he had his good points and was far from the worst person in Delta City.  On the negative side, he was a pimp.  On the positive side, he never beat his girls and evenly split the money they earned with them, so the girls were doing much better than most of the hookers in the city.  Cyril was not a major player, with only about a dozen girls, maybe becausehe was a bit on the lazy side.  Normally, the big players would have crushed someone like Cyril and taken over his string of girls, but for some reason they left Cyril alone.  There were various rumours on the street that Cyril was somehow related to King Pimp, so he was just allowed to go his own way without being bothered.  Cyril ran his little empire from a booth at the Pussycat club which Nancy suspected he was a part owner of, but had not been able to prove it.

Nancy crossed the room to the small wardrobe that held her clothes and took out a new outfit for the meeting with Cyril.  The blonde began to strip out of her normal working clothes of a denim skirt and plain white blouse, s she reflected on the thing she most disliked about meeting with Cyril and that was the outfit she had to wear.  Cyril, even with is seemingly immune status, could not be seen talking to a cop, even a private one.  The only way he would talk to her was if Nancy was dressed like one of his hookers.  Accordingly, Nancy now wore a white halter top that tied in front with no bra under it which left large amounts of cleavage exposed.  The skirt was a micro mini black thing that just barely covered her ass and under it was a black thong that looked more like dental flosss than underwear.  Completing the hooker look was a pair of black calf high boots with six inch heels.  They were the kind of footwear favoured by the Delta City super heroines, and Nancy could not fathom how they could ever think them appropriate for any kind of fighting or flight.  The only way they could ever be of any use was if the heroine stepped on the foot of an attacker, driving all their weight down on that lethal point.

Nancy put on her trenchcoat over her hooker outfit to drive to the Kittycat Club.  It was not so much that she cared so much about being seen dressed like this, but the nuisance of being stopped a dozen times by potential clients to ask her rates or if she was available.

Nancy parked her Civic in the nearly full lot and left her trenchcoat on the back seat.  She ignored the long line-up at the main door and went down the alley to a side door with a sign beside it that declared it to be the Stripper and Whore entrance.  Jerome, the muscular black security guard on duty gave Nancy a smile and a quick look over.  He knew the blonde by sight and waved her in, copping a feel of her ass as she went by.

The door led into a bck area that housed the change room for the strippers, storage rooms and small private rooms where you could arrange for pretty much any kind of sex you wanted, assuming you had the money.  Nancy heard moaning coming from some of these rooms, and once she was sure she heard a dog barking and hurried past to ermerge through a curtained entrance next to the long oak bar.  The main entrance was almost directly acrosss from her position.  To her right was the stage and a glance that way showed Sahara, a large boobed black stripper swinging around the pole wearing only bra and panties.  Closest to the stage were a couple of dozen round tables that could seat three or four people each.  These tables had long table clothes that went down to the floor and that was to hide or at least partially hide some of the activity that went on under the table.  Nancy could see at least two tables where a woman's body was dimly visible under the table and where one of the persons at the table had a big smile on his face.  To Nancy's left at the back of the room, lining the walls were about a dozen booths.  These were mainly used by people to transact business and who were not there so much for the stage show.

Nancy wound her way to the back of the large room, feeling several hands reach out to grope her as she went past.  The blonde ignored these and caught sight of Cyril in his reserved booth.  The pimp was alone and talking on his cell phone to someone.  He caught sight of Nancy, gave her a grin and patted the cracked vinyl seat beside him.  Nancy hid a grimace and slid in next to Cyril.  She knew she was expected to act like one of his girls and that meant allowing him to do some groping of her breasts as he slid an arm around her back while still talking on the phone.  Cyril seemed to have seen too many Hollywood movies depicting what a pimp should look like and dresss.  As a result, he was a horrible stereotype with a white three piece suit, rings on his fingers and gold chains dangling around his neck.  On his head was a large, purple floppy hat that just shouted pimp hat.

"So what brings one of my favourite girls to see me tonight?" murmered Cyril as he disconnected from his call and leaned in to kiss Nancy's neck while the hand on the arm behind her cupped her left breast and gave it a squeeze.

Nancy played her assigned role, cuddling up to the pimp and letting him do whatever he wanted with his hands, at least up to a point.  They both knew the game and the rules and Cyril would not push things too much.  "I was wondering if you saw the show with Green Spectre and Spectre Girl?" whispered Nancy as Cyril gave her nipple a tweak through her top.
 
"Mmmm, that was some fine, hot lesbian action," grinned Cyril as his other hand began to caresss Nancy's upper leg and moving higher towards the hem of the short skirt.

"I need to know how they are being shipped out," whispered Nancy, "Some South American drug lordwon the auction."

Cyril gave her a sharp look as he moved in to nibble on her ear while his hand slipped under Nancy's skirt to brush lightly over her pussy which the thong did little to protect from his touch.  "You don't want to go messing in that businesss," he told her quietly.  "The dude is a big time player and not just here in our beautiful Delta City."

"I know that, but I still want that information," replied Nancy as she suppressed a moan.  Damn, Cyril was good with his fingers and she felt one slip inside her pussy.

"That is going to cost you Nancy," said Cyril as he began to move his finger in and out of the private detective.

"Just how much?" asked Nancy and this time allowed the moan to escape her lips to please Cyril.

"For starters, slip under the table darling," instructed the pimp.  "Do a good job and I will tell you what I know. If you are still alive after tonight, I will collect the rest of my price at a later date."

Nancy considered this.  She had never asked Cyril for anything this big before.  He had always been content with a little groping and fondling and sometimes she had had information he wanted in exchange.  Going under the table would be a first for their relationship and Nancy was sorely tempted to just walk away.  She knew the Spectres would be "rebooted" at some point, but Nancy was gettingtired of seeing the super heroines so abused day after day, week after week, month after month.  The blonde detective just felt in her heart that she had to take a stand and put a stop to this degredation, orders or no orders.  These thoughts flitted through her mind for a minute or so while Cyril waited patiently, then Nancy gave a slight shrug and slid off the seat and under the table on her knees.

Nancy could see the bulge in Cyril's
 pants and she looked up from her position under the table to meet his gaze and he gave her a wide grin.  Nancy knew he had been waiting for this moment for nearly a year since they had first met.  He had never had a big enough piece of information to get her in this position before and he was going to take full advantage of it.  Nancy saw nothingfor it and reached up to undo his belt and the button on his pants.  There was a loud ZIPPING noise as she pulled down the zipper to reach inside and pull his cock out into view.

Nancy suspected the super heroines would have sneered at the cock just inches in front of her face, but it looked quite large enoughto her, thank you very much. It was a dark brown, cut with a darker, almost black head that leaked a drop of clear precum. It took Nancy a moment to screw up her courage and then her mouth opened and closed around the spongy head, tasting the precum.  Cyril gave out a soft moan of pleasure and his hands reached down to run through her blonde hair.

"Oooo girl, I have been waiting a long time for this," he gasped and felt his cock harden as Nancy took more and more of it into her mouth.

Nancy tried to close the sounds of the music and the people out of her mind and began to bob her head up and down on the rapidly hardening black shaft.  Soon it was fully erect and she felt Cyril tugging on her hair, trying to push it deeper into her mouth.  The detective felt it hit the back of her mouth and press against it.  With some reluctance, Nancy relaxed her throat and let the thick head push into it and keep on going until the full ten inches were in her mouth and she felt the large balls rub on her chin.

Cyril took a tighter grip on her hair now and began to thrust his hips harder, fucking her face while the PI worked the underside of his cock with her tongue to lubricate it and let it more easily slide in and out of her throat.  Nancy rolled her eyes up once more to meet Cyril's gaze and she saw him make an untyinggesture.  Nancy gave a mental sigh, knowing what he wanted and undid the knot on her halter to let her 48EE boobs spill into view.  Her breasts jiggled and bounced up and down as the pimp continued to fuck her mouth, his moaning growing louder as he neared his climax.  Cyril had his eyes locked on that pair of bouncing white boobs and the sight of his hard black cock totally engulfed by Nancy's warm, wet mouth when he blew his load down her throat.

Nancy felt the warm blast of liquid squirting down her throat into her stomach, then slowly felt Cyril start to pull his spurting cock back until the head was out of her throat and in her mouth.  She felt her mouth fill with warm goo and swallowed it and then the black snake slipped from her lips and gave one last squirt over her nose and lips.

When Nancy crawled out from under the table, it was just as one of the toplesss waitressses put down adrink on the table for Cyril.  The large boobed asian woman smirked at Nancy who tried not to blush and failed as she reached for a napkin to wipe the cum from her face.  It was only after doing that and the woman had left that Nancy remembered her untied top and redid it, hiding her boobs much to Cyril's disapointment and those people who had been witnesses from the nearby tables.  Nancy sat back down on the seat beside Cyril and with a little more groping, he finally told her that the Spectres were to be shipped out to South America from Pier 14 at one in the morning.  Nancy took her leave from the pimp and ignored several comments and propositions from other patrons as she slipped out the front door and headed for her car.

Nancy parked her car in some shadows as near to Pier 14 as she could get and waited.  Just as Cyril had told her, a white van pulled up near the gangplank to a dark ship and five men got out and opened the sliding side door.  They hauled out two large, long crates, easily big enough for a body.  Two of the men picked up each of the boxes, while the fifth man brandished a gun as combination guard and lookout.  This was going to be tricky, thought Nancy as she movd towards them.  She still had her hooker outfit on as thugs like these would not be alarmed about a prostitute on the docks and at worst would consider her a nuisance.

"Hey boys, you looking for a good time?" asked the blonde detective, putting a wiggle into her hips and a jiggle into her boobs.

"Get lost bitch," snarled the guard waving his gun, but not aiming it at her.

"Oh come on, thatis no way to talk to a lady," said Nancy and untied the knot on her halter top to let her boobs pop out into view.  The detective was faintly disgusted at using some of the tactics of the super heroines, but sometimes it did work. The men were all gaping at her tits as Nancy opened the small black purse she was carrying.  "Well, if you are really too busy, I can give you my business card," she mused aloud rummaging in her purse pulling out gum, lipstick, nail clippers and other contents as she appeared to be searching.  The men stood there bemused until she exclaimed "I found it," and pulled out not a business card but a small dart gun.  Pfft.  Nancy shot the guard first and he collapsed.  The other four gaped for another second before thinking to drop the boxes and reach for weapons, but they were too slow.  Pfft.  Pfft.  Pfft.  Pfft. The dartgun hissed four more times and all four men dropped to the ground with small darts in their necks.

Nancy heard a shout from the ship, but ignored it and quickly retrieved the small crowbar from the trunk of her car and pried open the first crate to reveal a naked and bound Green Spectre.  The heroine was still out cold, probably from a dose of chloroform, so Nancy left her and opened the second box to find Spectre Girl in a similar condition.  Nancy heaved the heroines into the back seat of the Civic, not caringthat Green Spectre ended up sprawled naked on top of her sidekick, tit to tit.  Suddenly there was a light shining from the ship and a shot hit the ground a few feet from Nancy.  The detective didn't waste any time in diving into the driver's seat and peeling out at high speed.

A mile or so away, Nancy finally slowed down and breathed a sigh of relief.  Glancing in the rear view mirror, she saw the two heroines had partially awoken and were lustily kissing each other.  Nancy pulled over to the side of the road and quicly disentangled the two women before their make-out session got too heated.  "After effects of the chloroform," Nancy told them as she cut the ropeson their hands and feet.  As the cool night air revived them, the two heroines looked more than a little mortified at what they had done and were trying to do again just now.

In the end, Nancy dropped the two naked heroines off a few blocks from the officebuilding where Axanna Morgan ran her newspaper from.  It was deja vu all over again as they did not want to give any clues to their secret identities and Nancy was not going to admit she already knew them.  The mother and daughter pair scurried off into the shadows and Nancy hoped they would be ok as she drove away.

Nancy was heading back to her apartment, wanting to get out of these clothes and have a nice hot bath to wash off the memory of her meeting with Cyril when she saw a trio of naked women dancing and shouting near an open manhole cover.  A large, green skinned mutoid was just starting to emerge, with only his head so far above ground.  Nancy slammed on the brakes and ran over to kick the mutoid in the face with all her strength.  The creature was much stronger than she was, but it was off balance as it awkwardkly tried to climb the ladder and Nancy's kick sent it tumbling down.  From the grunts and thuds, it had taken several of its fellows with it on thefall.

Nancy glanced down the manhole and could not stifle her gasp of shock.  There were two more naked women down there and both were being roughly fucked doggy style by two of the creatures.

"Got Gal and Got Chick are still down there," said one of the naked teens pointing at the sewer.  "They heard about us being grabbed by those things and came to rescue us.  They got us away from them and we climbed up here, but those things grabbed them.  Who knows what is happening to them."

"I do," sighed Nancy and pulled a small vial of liquid from her trenchcoat pocket..  One of the mutoids was starting up the ladder and she poured the contents of the vial on his head.  The thing screamed and fell from the ladder, clutching at its head which seemed to be foaming and dissolving.  The mutoids were not really alive, or at least not flesh and blood alive.  They were really made of a green animated slime that was probably concocted by Dragon Queen from what Nancy had been able to learn.  The vial had contained a catalyst that broe down the slime and dissolved the creatures.  It only took a small amount and temporarily created more catalyst from thecreature's own slime, so as the dissolving creature blundered about in pain, it soon infected the rest of the group.

In a couple of minutes, there was nothing left but a large puddle of green slime and two more naked heroines.  The Got gals quickly gathered up their power emeralds and climbed up the ladder.  It was a tight squeeze, but the three coeds were squeezed into the back seat and the two heroines were crammed in beside Nancy.   The detective sighed as she saw the slime on the seats...that was going to be hard to clean out.  With Got Chick pretty much sitting on her lap and her large chocolate brown boobs partially blocking her view, Nancy drove away.  The girls in the back were dropped off at a hospital to be checked out and picked up by their families. The got girls were then let out near Tonya O'Donnell's apartment building and once more Nancy set her sights on home and a bath.

The following morning, Nancy was just unlocking her office door when she heard the beep code of an incoming message from the tablet in her briefcase.  Nancy flipped on the office lights and took a careful look around to make sure everything was normal.  The office was not in an especially good part of town or in an especially well kept building, but the rent was cheap ecause of that.  While Nancy performed her job of observing for her unknown employers, said mployers didn't seem to find it necessary to provide any operating funds.  That meant that Nancy had to take on normal cases to pay the bills and as a consequence spent a lot of her time chasing down cheating spouses, delivering court summons and a variety of other odd jobs.  The office actually had three rooms. There was a small outer office where a secretary or receptionist should be, but Nancy had never found the time or the money to hire one.  There were two inner offices with doors directly behind the empty receptionist desk, one that Nancy used for her own and the other for a non-existant partner was empty.
Nancy crossed to her inner office which was not locked and flipped on that light as well.  There was not much in the way of furniture.  A battered wood desk with a rolling chair behind it that squeaked no matter how much she oiled it, a couple of plain wooden guest chairs and a few dented filing cabinets along one wall.  There was a coffee pot on top of one of the cabinets which allegedly made coffee, but Nancy was yet to be convinced the brown sludge it produced was drinkable.

Nancy sat down in her chair and put the briefcase on the desk.  She lifted out a laptop and her tablet.  There was no way she was going to leave anything of value in this crappy office in this crappy part of town overnight.  Nancy started up the tablet and frowned as a message began to appear on the screen as if someone was just typing it as she watched.

"Hello Nancy.  We know who and what you are.  We have known since the second you arrived in Delta City, but it has amused us to watch you stumble around and send your silly reports back to your misguided employers.  Unfortunately, for you, your efforts on behalf of your employers and your interference with the super heroine bimbos of this city are starting to annoy us.  As of this moment, you will no longer be allowed to communicate with your employers or they with you.  You have just become a permanent resident of Delta City, and we know where you live. "

"Oh Crap," muttered Nancy to herself as the tablet went totally dead in her hands and she heard the sound of the elevator from the hallway.  It was an elevator that had never worked in the past year.  "Double crap," she amended and pulled out her gun.

The End