FLAGELANTE- Stars and Stripes

By: E.N.Cuire

Flagelante is a Superheroine (At least, she thinks she is) created by myself. Any similarity between her or any of the characters in this story are purely co-incidental unless there is a deliberate use of a similar name or a real name. True appologies are tendered to those who take exception to my use of any other names and/or characters. (Yeah, right... If you believe that,

I have this bridge in Brooklyn...) This story has been written with no renumeration but just for the enjoyment of those who will read it. (Hopeful enjoyment, anyhow...)

WARNING... WARNING... WARNING... If you are not an Adult under the Laws of the United States and/or the Country in which you reside and are reading this, please go away NOW!!! If you find fictitious sexual situations, rape, lesbianism, satyrism, sundry bondage and heavy torture, nymphomania, copulation with creatures from Alien Planets and/or sundry demons and monsters, please look elsewhere for your jollies... If you like all that stuff, relax,

draw up a chair and read on...

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Flagelante considered herself a real Superheroine, after all, hadn't she arrived on Earth from a distant Planet like that Supergirl who got all the press? Didn't her costume attract as much attention as that of Batgirl or Wonder Woman? Wasn't she built akin to Blunder Broad (After her breasts had been abused and manipulated into the gigantic gords depected by those artists

Stanton and Cuire? And, couldn't she put up with pain under torture with the selfsame reaction to it as that other Superheroine from a distant Galaxy? The Superheroine known as Galaxeena,

Spacey, Space Cadet or Blond Cunt?

Flagelante was all of the above. It wasnt her fault that she'd boobed so much fighting crime. After all, there was no crime where she came from... Her Elders had insisted she journey to this backward Planet in order to learn about crime since their foretellers were predicting an unrest

of the youth of their planet that would, indeed, cause a crime spree in the next fifty years.

Her elders had chosen her attire. Well, in fact, it was the very sexist Scion of the Elder Elder,

the ever horny and lusting lad named Prod who'd done the designs based on some of the Superheroine bondage vidstuff he'd grabbed from Interstellar transmissions never meant to be

interstellar in the first place. (Could he help it if there were trasmission leaks from the repeaters placed in orbit around THAT planet? Trasmissions that were supposed to be purchased with lucre so the vid producers could be renumerated for their toils?)

Prod had become an expert at capturing these vidsends and whiled away many, many hours playing with his prod while watching them. And many more hours having his overlarge prod serviced by the dumbest Damsels he could persuade to dress up and play sex games with him.

It was Prod, in fact, who'd suggested Flagelante for the mission in the first place...

He'd picked up the beautiful and beautifully endowed Babe at a local night club, first having noticed how she moved so alluringly in her six inch heeled black knee high boots and the way her massive chest jiggled in time with the motions of the, ahhh, Universe class ass every step she took. A swaying that would have tempted the eldest of the Elders had he been with Prod that night.

Prod found Flag, as he chose to call her, an avid and enthusiastic pupil in her attempts to emulate

the on screen activities of Blunder Broad, Galaxeena and others. After a six month affair where Flag almost wore him to a frazzle and started making noises about the cute little things they could offspring together in the Conception Zone, Prod decided Plan B was required. His 'Father', who fairly doted on his only offspring, allowed with ease Flagelante's elevation to Mission Status and her choice as Gxenadra's SpyGirl and Secret Agent. While she was being given instructions in Earth languages, Prod busied himself in creation of the OUTFIT she must wear.

As Prod persuaded his Father, it was so others of their Planet could easily pick her from the hordes of Humanoid Earthlings that would surround her on that World.

"Good... Good, my boy... You are showing the right kind of thinking at long last..."

Flagelante found the outfit shocking and demeaning. The main part of it was some kind of catsuit in an ebony rubberlike material that seemed to adhere to her fabulous body when she donned it and she objected to the placement of it's certain zippers that seemed to have no purpose other than ornamental. Besides, the ones on her bodice scratched at her already overlarge nipples peaking them into huge erections that thrust out and displayed themselves against the material of the form fitting costume. The collar and mask combination she found cute and liked the way it displayed her azure eyes. Ah, but she just adored the boots and gloves.

The boots were of a similar rubber material to the outfit, but thicker and seemed more durable.

They reached to her upper thighs while accentuating her leg muscles because of their six inch stiletto heels that forced her into a gait she knew looked great. Her gloves reached up her arms to her shoulders and seemed not to cause any restriction in her abilities to move. The color of boots and gloves matched the yellow of the hiphugger belt that also served only as decoration.

"Ah... Dont you think this outfit makes my tits look humungous?" She asked Father and Son.

"No, dear... After all, you are somewhat, ah... abundant and the look will gain you extra time against sundry villains who will be so taken by your, ah... breastly attributes that it will surely slow them from thier intended, ahhhh... exploits..."

Prod was a little more conservative with the outfits he chose for her to wear. If conservative could be the way to describe them. Six inch heeled boots, knee high and thigh high with everything, leather, PVC and rubber look mini dresses and tight pants, low cut blouses that fought to contain her massive chest and jackets tht did nothing to hide much of anything.

"We've been able to produce certain documents for you that will allow you to pass as an Eath-humanoid but you will have to work while there in order to live... They are backward on that Planet so you will require something called money that takes the place of our credit system...

We can not duplicate much of that tender and have not been able to access their puny credit system that runs by something known as a 'credit card' so your funds are very limited... Since

you will not have the documents they require fo the correct permits, you will have to... Ahhh...

Sell your body to gain lucre to live... Prod's outfits will surely help you in that profession in that they should attract people to you with ease..."

Cresta City was selected as the City she was to live in. On the Northwest Coast of the Country

called United States, it was far enough away from any Cities already watched over by other Superhero types and cheap enough to live in to afford her a start on that planet. In gratitude for the chance afforded her, Flag eagerly seduced another Girl and, allowing Prod to put her in dire bondage, ate out the girl while Prod prodded deep in her rectum. She would not admit it to him but she had five orgasms in that short tryst while causing him two and four for the willing Female particpiant.

Flag managed to find herself a dingy little apartment in Cresta the same day of her arrival. She had no idea of the value of the money she was spending but, by feigning a certain vulnerability

was able to rent the place furnished for less than the asking figure. She also found a coffee shop

and ordered from the menu by pointing to something that looked good and found it was, indeed.

That evening, she attired herself in a shiny red microskirt of rubber with a lowcut white blouse that only just contained her mammoth mammaries. She chose thigh high boots of shiny black plastic which amply matched the shoulder length gloves she pulled up her shapely but muscular arms. She carried no purse since she'd been instucted with care and knew to hide this thing called 'money' in a small pocket inside the tops of her six inch heeled thigh highs. She was ready and left the small abode, walking strongly toward the dockland area where she'd been told she would find men who would pay her to do this or that. Politely, as per her teachings, she waited for a traffic light to change before she would attempt to cross the road and was surprised when a large black sedan splashed muck over her boots as it came to a halt between her and the crosswalk. A window slid down with a whir.

"Hey, Chickie... Wanna make some bread?"

She shrugged her shoulders not quite understanding the question and the occupant of the car took it that her answer was in the positive. "Get in, Chickie... Let's roll..."

She got in the car and the car set out with a squeal of tires and she found that the conveyance, although primitive by her Planet's standards, was comfortable and nicely heated.

"My Master doesn't like girls who talk a lot... Understand?" Said the driver of the car. "You will not talk to him at all. He likes to watch as his wife makes it with a chick like you, comprehend?"

Flag did. Flag minded not one iota since she knew her language skills were not quite to a par with Earth parlance. She did, however, know enough to ask, "How much do I get?"

"Honey... If you're really good and get the Mistress off enough for the Master, he will pay you two Hundred Dollars plus a tip. If you're not so good, it'll be a Hundred Bucks..."

That sounded good to Flag. She'd paid a hundred for her accomodations that would take her through two weeks and had taken a repast for a scant two dollars at the small coffee house. "I will be rich if I get more like this one..."

"How long must I stay for this renumeration?" She asked next.

"Oh... If it goes over two hours, your fee will be doubled. If Master decides to have the workers do you, there will be a hundred for each who fucks you... Only one gal got to make a thousand one time but that doesn't happen very often..."

"A thousand..." Thought Flag. "I will be able to devote time to crime fighting..."

The gates to the Estate looked scary to most who beheld them. Locals would never chance entry to this Estate which caused the residents to be forced to send a truck for whatever they desired to buy for the home. To Flag, it looked just fine. She even loved the way the trees created a world of shadow on the ill kempt driveway. The main hosue was of ancient stone brought a century ago from a castle in Scotland and the entry bore a double door of thich oak about twelve feet high.

Flagelante had never seen a domicile like this one. The domiciles on her Planet were all metalic and chromium and her simple abode small and equiped with a Murphy bed. She was looking around in awe when the Man beaconed her forward into the atrium which looked like an indoor rain forest to her. This was a room she was more familiar with due the fact that everything on her Planet was grown in like chambers.

"You've outdone yourself, Arthur..." Came dulcet, feminine tones that brought Flag's head around to see the speaker.

She stood beside a man in a wheelchair who looked like he had tubes entering several parts of his body. He looked frail and ashen in color with a small mustache that reminded her of a character she'd seen on one of those illicit video grabs. His sparce hair was grey and combed, flat to the head, across his forehead.

The speaker was a tall Blond with a figure almost as outrageous as Flag's. A figure attired like a whore. Like Flag herself. And like Flag, she was attired in shiny materials and thigh high boots but her gloves were to the elbows and flared. Gauntlets.

"Oh, yes. This one will do very nicely... Does she talk?"

"Not much Mistress. She is excedingly well mannered for one of the streets..."

The old man croaked something that sounded like "Kommen zie hier..." and the Woman turned to Flag.

"He wishes you to approach... This is a singular honor, dear Girl. He does not usually ask one of your type to come close to him... Hurry up then. Chop, chop..."

Flag was a little unsure. This man reminded her of one of her Planet's Elders and she'd never been permitted close to one of them. If one discounted Prod's Father who had made use of her while his Son was bringing in yet another creation she might wear off Planet.

She came close to the old man who raised a bony hand, almost amazing Flag with it's speed as it dove under her microskirt and into her privatemost parts.

"Oh... "She commented.

Ilsa had moved up behind her while the bony hand seemed to be examining her. Ilsa had opened up her black leather bikers jacket and Flag found two breasts pressed against her back while two gauntleted hands pulled Flag's own blouse open and allowed those remarkable mammaries to vomit forth. The gauntleted hands now found Flag's huge nipples and were already milking them between thumbs and forefingers. Flagelante was proving up what Prod had told his Father about her. She was bending her legs open even though she had nothing to do with the motion. Consciously. And she was thrusting her well padded rear to the rear and into contact with a mons that opulently thrust back at the Universe class butt in contact with it.

"No panties... She came ready for us, liebchen..."

Ilsa now took complete command, turning Flag toward herself and pulling on Flag's tresses so their mouths could meet in a kiss full of sexuality and ardor. Flag liked the taste of Ilsa’s tongue as it snaked around her mouth with obvious power and enjoyment. Flag, on her part, returned the favor with fervor, specially because of the gauntleted hands manipulating Flag's very erogenous breasts.

How Flagelante and Ilsa ended up on the sumptuous leather couch, Flag had no idea. Flag found herself under Ilsa in a position known by side by side numbers and most certainly not Missionary and receiving a tongue lashing she was returning with an ardor that surprised even herself. Two now sweating, partially clad, superbly bodied Females, boots and gloves squeaking against the leather of the couch as they embroiled themselves in a battle neither would loose. Each moving with sensuality against each other, rubber and leather clad hands reaching here and there on each others' bodies, tweaking, exploring and invading. Both had stopped caring about being watched and had, in fact, forgotten the watcher as each climbed from peak to peak in glorious cumings.

It had become a battle to see who could dominate who as the war went on. A war in which each of the combatants received the reward of ultimate pleasure, each orgasm topping the last and each urging each combatant to further effort. Each was taking and giving and, in giving, seemed to make attempts at exhausting the other with the huge orgasms shaking each.

"Enough... Enough..." Went Ilsa finally, her leathers sticking wetly to her fabulous form. She managed to stagger to her booted feet, her gauntlets drooling evidence of the place they'd been and mostly exhausted.

"Never have I had one like this one, Liebchen... This one was born to whore..."

The old man waved a bony hand which seemed to shut Ilsa up. The door swung open and Arthur returned with ten huge crew cut men who wore knee high rubber riding boots and grey leather jodphurs but no shirts. Each also wore a pair of elbow length gauntlets and each looked like he was built like a stallion.

"Pre-e-sent arms..." Went Arthur, the eternal functionary. Obediently, each of the men unzipped themselves and allowed their weapons, each at attention, to spring out and face the Flag.

"Oooohhh" Went Flag assuming the erections were for her. She was correct as the first walked to her supine form and literally climbed in the saddle. "What a waste..." She thought, feeling the man had no finnesse. Perhaps no finnesse but he quickly overfilled her amply lubricated orifice and started doing pushups like a trainee in the Army. Even while her eyes widened in surprise at the cock's girth, Flag was crooking a gloved finger bidding another of the men forward and, as he arrived, took his member in her gloved hand and guided it between her lush sex plump lips. She then started to prove what had caused her banishment to this Planet in the first place. She gave the best head in the Universe and the muscles of her cunt could get milk from a stone.

She could feel both men close to orgasm and redoubled her efforts toward that finish she desired by now. "Oh, no-o-o..." She went as both well trained fuckers withdrew to allow their semen to squirt all over her self, outfit and boots. She pointed the next man to the couch and rose to straddle him while crooking a finger at another to invade the smaller, winking hole abaft of the one already enjoined. She groaned deliciously as she felt her back portal invaded and enjoyed the pain she loved to receive. She then bade another to her rosy lips and sucked him in better than Linda Lovelace had ever done.

Flag's body was moving like the finest of dancers in an undulation that would have sent a landlubber to sea sickness and she was allowing herself the perverse pleasures of multiple orgasms while being pounded between the trio. "I am loving this and am making mo-ney besides... Life is g-o-o-o-o-oddd" She thought as she went into the next salvo of orgasms, this time attempting to keep the flow of gism inside her. She did not succede.

Again, she was showered. Make that innundated as each managed a withdrawel to prove to their Master and Mistress that their efforts were true. Flag was choreographing the activities by now and made one man lie down before she lay down on him on her back. She fed him into her treasured, just lubricated rear while accepting another deep in the more normal channel. She then bade another between her breasts which she pushed together with slick gloved hands and before accepting another between her lips. "That's nine and one to go... I wonder if they have more of these guys..."

They probably had but had limited Flag to ten of their men. She managed to press one of her breasts against the back of the couch so she could take the last one in her gloved hand and showed her considerable expertise in the milking she was giving that cock that started spurting all over her before it's fellows. As she finally staggered to her booted feet she was drooling cum on the stone floor, rivulets running down her boots and the remains of her costume. She smiled in pleasure and heard the old man issue some proclamation.

"Master has decreed that you have earned one thousand five hundred dollars and has said that if you will take on two of our guard dogs, you will receive double in cash... Would you want to do that?"

Flag had no idea what one of these 'guard dogs' even was but did the fuzzy math. She nodded her assent while thinking. "The Elders would be most proud of me... I will make enough lucre to keep me fighting crime for a long time..."

The furry animals surprised her but she managed to control her features so as not to give away that surprise. One of the furry beasts approached her and send a nose unerringly toward that part of her anatomy dogs all seem to find right away and a tongue larruped upward, seeming to fold itself deep in a puss already well open because of what had just transpired. Flagelante gasped as her booted legs shook and seemed to separate of their own volition. "What manner of being has a tongue so wonderful???"

"Down on your hands and knees and open up with one of your hands..." This from Ilsa who was rubbing herself toward orgasm while anticipating what was to happen.

No one would be disappointed. Flag dropped to booted knees and, holding her torso aloft on one gloved hand, used the fingers of the other to seperate her labia. The dog (No dummy, he!) lunged and skewered her at first thrust bringing a look of surprise and, yes, of lust to her beautiful visage. "These Earth creatures certainly know how to break down a sexy gal..." She thought as the dog applied forepaws around her back and hunched into what he enjoyed doing best. The dog, unlike his Human companions, did not withdraw but finished off with a lava flow that erupted through Flag's being like overheated oil. She screamed in wonderful orgasm.

Flag miewled as the dog sought to escape after his conquest of yet another bitch. The huge organ had not subsided and Flag's puss had become what the French love to call a 'Casse Noisettes', a nut cracker. An organ that would squeeze and squeeze to the last. It was the other dog, impatient for his own coupling that threw himself against the first and caused the uncoupling. And that dog climbed aboard with what looked like glee.

"I swear he has a dirty grin on his snout..." Went Ilsa glapping gloved hands with glee. Right now, Flag could care less about the comments and the look on the dog's face as she entered into another stream of orgasms. She barely saw Ilsa approach but found herself looking up into a puss that was drooling in anticipation. And Flag knew well what the well wanted. She amply filled it with her own tongue and went to lapping at all that moisture, finding herself somewhat parched from the orgasms she'd experienced.

The temperature in the atrium seemed to be growing as the two Women and the dog rushed headlong into that state that is so sweet and welcome. And all three raced and came to conclusion in what was called a 'dead heat'.

There was a croaking from the old man in a language foreign to Flag and Ilsa looked stunned. He has never requested this in the many years I've been with him... He wants you to give him a blow job. First, of course, you must be washed..."

Arthur took care of summoning twin Blond Beauties, both dressed as very kinky maids. Both in thigh high white rubber boots with punishing six inch stilletto heels, matching shoulder length gloves and ebony rubber maids outfits that allowed their ample breasts freedom. Both helped Flag to her booted feet and led her into the fountain where they took soap and washrags to her fabulous form and costume. They seemed to know instinctively what buttons to push and where to lave to have our Heroine shuddering again and not from the cold water.

She was toweled off with best turkish towels and sat on the edge of the fountain so she could rid her boots of the water that had poured into them and then allowed to approach the old man where she knelt to take his flacid prick between gloved hands. She started paying attention right away to his scrotum, using her pink lapper with almost featherlike action and was amply rewarded for her ministrations. No one would have been able to resist those lips, plump and inviting. Lips Pam Anderson would be jealous about should she have seen them. It took her quite a lot of effort, her tongue working in unison with her suction but finally, she felt the man spurt into her gullet and swallowed, knowing somehow it was what the oldster would want. He went to sleep just after he came and Flag knew she was done for the night.

"This is a first for us and I am going to pay you handsomely for this evening's fun...

I will wish your services again if you are willing, at a party we have coming up... Arthur will, of course, return you to whence you were picked up... You will give him a phone number, please..."

Flag was amazed that Ilsa seemed to have forgotten the couplings they'd experienced and was now talking like a businesswoman. She shrugged as Five Thousand Dollars were counted out into her gloved hands, in one hundred Dollar bills.

The next morning, Flagelante dressed in a manner more conservative. She had been instructed on how to approach the Bank for an account and was nicely dressed in a black leather suit, white blouse that matched the high heeled white leather of her boots and gauntlets. After a sumptuous breakfast she felt she had deserved, she walked down to the Bank at the corner. She went to the Customer Service desk and wrote ner name and reason for being in the Bank. To open an account. Obeying the sign posted, she then settled to wait for a banker's attention and was slightly peeved that each seemed to be shuffling papers from one side of the desk to the other.

"This is a hold-up... You will all get on the ground except the tellers... Tellers, start digging for the dough and you patrons, dig for all the cash you have... "

"These must be some of the bad guys they told me about... The ones I must learn to defeat..." Flag went to herself. She waited until the four bad guys, (Well. Three guys and a Girl) were looking toward the tellers and sidled along the floor to the door marked with what looked like a female form. Looking back, she carefully pushed open the door and slid inside before taking her crime fighting costume from her bag and quickly changing clothes.

She also made sure to hide her money in the tank of one of the cisterns. She was ready for action and action she would have...

"Place down your weapons... You are all under arrest... Do what I say and I will talk to the Authorities on your behalf..."

She said after swinging open the bathroom door noisily. Four pairs of eyes went to the overabundant body so scantilly clad in what looked like a second skin. A Second skin that showed every bit of abundance she possessed.

"Only a chickie..." Went Valentina with a laugh. "Take her out, Boyzzz"

Three illegal M-16s swung in Flag's direction and spat bullets that shook her body every time one hit. To the baddies consternation, she failed to do what most victims did when hit by live fire at close range. This overblown Blond just started to laugh.

"Oh, darn... That TICKLES..."

The trio ejected spent magazines as Flag moved toward them and the click of three weapons getting fresh ammo was almost as loud as the blast from three muzzles. They seemed to suddenly realize that this one wasn't going the way so many had in all the movies they'd seen and took off out the doors. Flag made to take after them but came to a stop, remembering the money she'd hidden and how it should be put in the bank.

"You are a Heroine... A true Heroine..." Went the Bank Manager... "The Police will want to ask you some questions..."

End. Part 1