TEACHER’S PET

By Flexman

Ms. Americana is property of Mr. X. This is a not for profit story. No one under eighteen should read it.

 Ms. Americana staked out the hotel for the third night in a row. Men check in and then out only an hour or two later. Sometimes they wouldn’t check in at all. They’d sit in the lobby or the bar for a few minutes until a young woman showed up, then they’d leave together and be back a few hours later. Based on her count of the men, they were doing great business for a third rate, off campus, hotel with no restaurant and only a small bar.

 Hotel my ass, she thought. They were obviously running hookers out of there. What irked her even more was the hookers were all college girls. All the women she seen going in and out of there were young coeds from Delta University. She knew this because as her alter ego, millionaire Brenda Wade, she’s a trustee of the school and one of it’s greatest benefactors. She personally was the largest contributor to the feminist studies program and made it a point to get to know the most promising female students. She recognized several of them operating out of that hotel. Someone was coercing these students in to a life of prostitution. The word on the streets was the pimp running things called himself the Professor. How perverse that a miscreant low life like that should mock higher education as he corrupted the very flower of young American womanhood. No one knew the Professor’s true identity, he kept it a well hidden secret.

Tonight she was going to put an end to the Professor and his exploitation of these poor innocent girls. It was two am Sunday morning, the end of a busy night. It was time for the illicit receipts to be tallied. No pimp would ever trust that to someone else. The Professor would personally be in there counting all the dirty money he made off all those poor girls. Only tonight he was going to get more then he bargained for. Ms. Americana planned to surprise him in the act and haul his ass to jail where his kind belong, away from his victims.

 She made her way to the back and sneaked in through an outside entrance to the bar. It was deserted. The bartender was cleaning and locking up the liquor. She went passed when his back was turned. She waited until the desk clerk stepped in to the back office to get past him and made her way down the corridor. The door said Private. Ms. Americana put her ear next to it and heard voices inside.

 Ok, here we go. She effortlessly kicked the door opened and rush in. Once inside she assumed her super heroine pose of chin high, feet shoulder width apart, fists on her hips, jutting to one side.

“Halt! This perverted spectacle ends now. Professor, as a duly deputized agent of the law, I’m placing you under arrest for trafficking in prostitution.”

 Even before she finished her sentence, the scene in the room surprised her. Everyone had gone silent. The coeds she’d observed all night were standing all around. On the table, piles of money and credit card receipts were neatly stacked, and sitting there counting and distributing the night’s ill gotten gains was not a man, but a tall, lean oriental woman. What most shocked Ms. Americana was she knew the women. Her name was Misa Ozakawa. She was a visiting professor of business and economics from Japan, teaching at Delta University. Brenda Wade had met her at the last faculty meeting.

 “Professor Ozakawa, you work for the Professor? You are helping that pimp corrupt your students?”

 Professor Ozakawa did not respond. Instead she just sat there studying Ms. Americana. Taking in the french cut star-spangled, red, white and blue bikini, red calf high boots, red gauntlet gloves, blue choker, tiara and mask. There was also the golden belt resting on her hips. That belt was the source of her amazing powers.

 “Who is this stupid tart?” she asked, in a strong Japanese accent.

 “That’s Ms. Americana,” one of the students answered.

 “So? What is a Ms. Americana? She looks like a strippers.”

 “I’m the one who is going to shut down this abomination and if you wish to help yourself Ozakawa you will reveal the identity of the Professor and where I can find him.”

“I’m in charge of this abominations, as you put it. There is

no one else, just me.”

 “You corrupted these young girls and turned them in to prostitutes? You miscreant, you have betrayed all the ideals of higher education. This will go bad for you Ozakawa. You will go to prison, then be deported back to Japan. You will be disgraced, never again allowed to corrupted young minds.”

 “And you are the one who is going to do all this?” The Professor giggled. “You should leave now. Leave before you stop amusing and begin annoying me.”

 “Get up!” Ms. Americana ordered.

 “I’m warning you,” the Professor answered. “I will bitch slap you until you cry for your mommy.”

 “Don’t be ridicules. I have the strength of ten men. I can have my way with you without even raising a sweat.”

 The Professor smiled, stood up and came around the table. She was wearing gray sweat pants, tee shit and running sneakers. She stood in front of Ms. Americana for a moment, then assumed a martial art stand, ready to do battle. Now it was Ms. Americana’s turn to laugh.

 “You can’t be serious.”

 “I’m waiting for you to back up your big talk, stupid tart.”

 This angered Ms. Americana. She moved toward Ozakawa, but before she could grab her arm, the Professor ducked under and swept Ms. Americana’s legs out from under her, toppling her. She landing on her magnificent ass.

“Ladies,” the Professor spoke. “In studying martial arts throughout most of my life, I’ve noticed something interesting. People blessed with extraordinary strength and speed, get lazy and come to over rely on these blessings at the expense of developing their technique and form to it’s full potential.” She pointed at Ms. Americana on the floor.

 “This fat tit cow has great strength.”

 Ms. Americana was up on her feet in seconds, again charged the Professor. Again she missed as the Professor ducked under, stomped on Ms. Americana’s toe, thrusting her shoulder under the heroine’s arm pit and flipped her over. Ms. Americana landed on her back, letting out a yelp.

 “Noticed how easily her great strength is used against her,” the Professor continued.

 Ms. Americana’s power allowed her to recover quickly. It did not keep her from feeling the pain of humiliation. Again she jumped back on her feet. The two women circled the room, eyeing each other. Ms. Americana threw a punch, but failed to connect, as the Professor’s quickness again surprised her. The Professor spun around, ramming her elbow in to Ms. Americana’s kidney, followed up with her heel in to the back of the hero’s knee. It took all her effort to keep Ms. Americana from going down again, but it only delayed the inevitable, as the Professor’s round house kick to her head sent the Queen of Justice back to the floor.

 “Noticed how off balanced her attack was,” the Professor pointed out to all the students. “I also wish you to notice how this foolish cow allows her anger to guide her.”

 As the Professor went on with her lecture, all the coeds cheered, applauded and shouted encouragement to the her. For the third time Ms. Americana struggled to her feet. Great liberty, this is unreal. This skinny woman is easily beating me. To make matters worse, the coeds she came here to help were all cheering and looking at the Professor with admiration and awe. She was the Queen of Justice, a symbol and example to women everywhere, but these girls were rooting for the one that was victimizing them. The coeds must all be brainwashed or tamed. They were in worse trouble then she thought. She had to put a stop to this. Then the Professor made her first mistake. While explaining her technique to her students, she turned her back to Ms. Americana. This was her chance, she moved forward and put the Professor in a powerful bear hug.

“You should never underestimate an opponent and turn your back to her in a fight,” she gloated, but failed to secure both of the Professor’s arms.

With her one free hand the Professor rammed her thumb in to the heroine’s neck, causing her to choke and weaken her grip. This allowed the Professor to free her other arm. Using both thumbs, Ozakawa attacked points in both of her opponent’s arms. Ms. Americana felt them both go numb. She couldn’t maintain her grip. The Professor easily broke free, followed up with palm strike to Ms. Americana’s chin, staggering her back, then another kick to the mid-section sending her back on her rump yet again. Finally a perfect kick to the face finished the fight.

 “This stupid milk cow is not even a challenge,” the Professor remarked. “I have lost interest. Girls rid me of this nuisance.”

 As Ms. Americana tried to raise, one of the girls, Chris pulled out her blackjack and struck her across the back of her head. Ms. Americana saw stars. Before her mind could clear, two other girls, Linda and Johnnie, pulled out stun guns and both shocked Ms. Americana at the same time.

 “Gggghhhaaa!”

 “Her belt,” another coed named Maureen yelled. “I read on the internet that’s where she gets her powers.” Maureen ran up and snatched the golden belt off of Ms. Americana’s waist.

 “Give me that back!” Ms. Americana screamed, as she felt her powers drain away. She tried to get up, but Linda and Johnnie shocked her again and kept on shocking her. Without her belt the shocks did more then just stun her. After a short while Ms. Americana was out cold, her body still twitching from the electric charge they ran through her.

 Professor Ozakawa and her six students stood over Ms. Americana’s, looking down on her unconscious body.

 “You should all learn from her example. Arrogance will always bring you down,” the Professor explained.

 “What do we do with her?” Chris asked.

 “I know,” Johnnie answered. “Let dump her in the alley on Powell Street. I’m sure the winos and junkies will have a fun time with her.”

The rest of the girls all nodded their agreement, but Professor Ozakawa shook her head. “She may still come back to annoy us.”

 “If we pull her mask off we’ll know who she is. We can blackmail her,” Maureen commented.

 “Perhaps, but I feel we need a more definite solution. Besides, a women who goes around dressed as she does deserves to be taught a lesson. She calls us miscreants, yet she walks around like some wonton whore. Yes, I think a lesson must be taught and I have just the lesson plan in mind.”

 Professor explained her plan to her students. When she was done they all giggled and congratulated her on an excellent idea. First the girls all pulled out their cell phones and began making calls. Then they picked up the unconscious heroine, carried her in to one of the hotel rooms and laid her on the king size bed. Then they began stripping her, keeping parts of her costume as prizes. Johnnie, who had the biggest feet, took the red calf high boots. She put them on and walked around the room displaying them as if she was a runway model. Maureen took the choker, Chris the tiara and earrings. Linda helped herself to the long gloves. Siena took Ms. Americana’s bikini top and Bree took the bottom. When done, Ms. Americana laid on the bed wearing nothing but her mask, which the Professor forbade them to remove.

 “Wow, look at the rack on her,” Bree commented. She squeezed and manipulated Ms. Americana’s massive tits. “If mine were anywhere near as big as her’s I’d charge twice as much.”

 “Yeah, well look at this. She actually crops and bikini waxes her rug,” Siena pointed out, as she ran her hand through Ms. Americana’s pubic mount.

All the girls laughed. Then Linda spread the heroine’s legs and stuck first one and then two fingers in her cunt. “Dam, you won’t believe how tight she is. I haven’t been this tight since I was fifteen. Doesn’t this bitch ever get laid? “

”I bet her ass is virgin territory,” Chris laughed.

“Let’s see,” Bree smiled. They turned Ms. Americana over on her stomach and spread her cheeks. Chris gently poked at Ms. Americana’s anus with a pencil. “Yeah, never had it up there,” she confirmed. “With a body like her’s, what’s she saving it for?”

 Johnnie looked at her watch. “Well, all that’s going to change in a few minutes. The first group should be here any minute.”

The Professor entered the room and ordered all the girls out. Once she was alone with the fallen heroine she reached over and removed the mask. She instantly recognized Brenda Wade. They had met in a faculty dinner. Professor Ozakawa smiled, this was an interesting development. She put the mask back on Brenda’s face making sure it was secured. Then returned to the office. She locked up Ms. Americana’s belt, and all the receipts in the safe, sat in front of the computer, went on-line and began doing research. A few minutes later Chris walked in. “The first group just got here,” she announced. “Siena’s friends on the football team.”

 “Good, have you explained the rules?”

 “Yes, They can’t take her mask off. Other then that, just have fun. I hope they follow that rule.”

 The Professor smiled. “They will, the mask adds to the excitement. Who would wish to have an ordinary woman when you can have the great Ms. Americana.”

 Ms. Americana woke up. She felt groggy. Shook her head to clear it. The first thing she realized was her mask was still on. She was relieved, her secret identity had not been revealed. That feeling was short lived when she realized her mask was the only thing she was still wearing.

 “Great Liberty, I’m naked.”

It didn’t end there. Ms. Americana looked up to see she was not alone in the room. Three boys were standing there staring at her with lecherous grins on their faces. The one in the middle was tall, well built, blond and handsome. Even though she did not follow men’s sports at Delta University, she recognized him. She’d seen his picture in the alumni newsletter. His name was Lance Jessup, the football team’s star quarterback. The other two boys she didn’t recognize. They were a little shorter, but bigger, thicker, they carried more weight on their huge bodies. It wasn’t fat either, it looked all muscle. By the look on their faces, the heroine could guess what they had in mind. She sprung from the bed and ran to lock herself in the bathroom. The two linemen caught her before she could make it. They each held one of her arms. Ms. Americana struggled to break free but without her belt she was no match for their massive, muscular arms and their vise like grip.

 “Man,” one of the linemen said. “She sure is weak for a super heroine.”

 Lance smiled. “Siena was right. Without her belt she’s nothing but a super tit fuck toy.”

 Ms. Americana’s blue eyes flashed. “I demand you release me this instant,” She ordered.

“What’s the hurry,” Lance asked. “The party’s just begin.”

 “I’m no one’s fuck toy. I’m the Queen of Justice! A superior woman. Something dumb jocks like you would know nothing about.”

 “Really? Well, let’s see how long that lasts, Ameri-boobs.”

Jessup nodded to one of the linemen, named Marcus, who backhanded her solar plexus hard. It knocked the air out of her, causing a pained look on her face as she sagged in their arms.

“That’s better,” Jessup smiled. “Now let’s see just how superior you really are.”

 Jessup reached out and grabbed both of her massive tits. He began squeezing, massaging and kneading them vigorously.

 “Ooooo! Stop that, please,” Ms. Americana said, as she tried in vain to struggle out of the hold of the two big linemen.

 He didn’t stop, he continued enthusiastically. Then after a few more minutes moved on to her coke can size nipples, pinching and twisting them painfully. Finally, he put her right nipple in his mouth and began suckling her, while he continued to manipulate her left tit. Marcus, meanwhile reached down, slapped and massaged her left butt cheek. The other lineman, named Jinx, stuck his tongue in her ear. Ms. Americana’s face turned red, she felt humiliated. After years of besting the pimps and crime bosses, here she was being molested by three college jocks.

Jessup switched nipples, going for the left. Marcus moved down from her butt to her pussy, massaging the heroine’s labia lips and Jinx tongue went from her ear to her neck. It went on for a while.

 “Mmmm,” Ms. Americana cried, as she tingled all over.

 “Man, look how wet she’s getting. She’s really in to it,” Marcus remarked.

 “I don’t have to,” Jessup answered. “I can feel her nipples hardening up. The Queen of Justice here looks like just another horny slut.”

 They were right, her body was betraying her. Wild eyed, she could feel the tingle spreading from her groin up to her chest, swelling her breast. She was getting hot and breathing faster. Jessup, obviously knew how to use his tongue, now he started using his teeth, giving her stone hard nipples playful little bites.

“Please stop. You don’t under stand what you’re doing,” she begged.

 “Yeah, right,” the three football players all laughed. While Marcus continued massaging her labia lips, Jinx began working the front of her mount, kneading through the bikini waxed pubic hair. He finally slipped his finger in her hot, wet pussy and found the heroine’s clitoris. He started rolling it between his big thumb and forefinger as it swelled up beyond belief.

“Oooooo,” escaped from her mouth, as her whole body jerked.

 Jessup reached up and grabbed her long raven mane with both hands and pulled. The pain forced Ms. Americana to open her mouth. Jessup immediately locked lips with the distress heroine, giving an open mouth, passionate kiss. His tongue probing all areas of Ms. Americana’s mouth. At first she tried to resist, but soon what little will power she had left gave out and she simply enjoyed the kiss. Soon, she even began kissing back.

 “She ready,” Jessup announced.

 The dragged her back to the bed. In a dazed, Ms. Americana did not struggle or resist in any way, as the jocks dropped her on the bed and removed their clothes. Through the haze in her mind she vowed to resist their attempts to get her to orgasm. If she did, it would be over for her. Her belt, even if she could get it back, would be useless to her for hours. It would be a long while before her powers ever came back.

Jessup was first. She looked at his cock, it was huge. To makes matter worse, she was tight from disuse. She couldn’t imagine how she would be able to accommodate the whole thing inside of her.

 Marcus and Jinx laid to either side of her and each began sucking on one of her swollen, taunt breast. Jessup raised her legs up to a ninety degree angle so that her big, bare feet were pointing toward the ceiling. Jessup began by finger fucking her. Without any warning, he suddenly plunged his thick fingers in to her sensitive, hot, sopping wet pussy.

 “Aaaaiiieee! Sweet Liberty, stop!” she gasped. The tingle intensified as her cunt got wetter. Jessup noticed.

“The slut likes it. The flood gates are opening.”

 He moved to massage her clit. Ms. Americana couldn’t take it. It was too much. The two linemen sucking on her hyper sensitive nipples was adding to the intense assault on her will power. Hold out, she kept telling herself, but it was no use, those magnificent fingers and tongues were too much for her. She realized she would climax soon and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

 “Please guys, stop. I’ll do anything you want.” They weren’t listening. All three were too wrapped up in what they were doing.

Two minutes later the first orgasm hit her like a Mack truck. Her body tighten, her back arched as she screamed.

The linemen continued to suck her massive tits while squeezing and pulling on them, as if they were milking a cow. Lance withdrew his fingers from Ms. Americana’s gushing pussy.

 “Ok, you had the finger job, let’s go for the real thing,” he said, as he positioned himself. He then inserted his large cock in her already sensitive hole. He quickly located her spot and began pumping away. Just having had her first orgasm, Ms. Americana went wild eye.

 “It’s too big, it’s ripping me apart,” she cried. Jessup continued pumping away at her tight pussy like he didn’t hear her. With both lineman still sucking and massaging her massive tits and Jessup’s powerful cock slamming in to her, it didn’t take long for Ms. Americana to climax again, this time even harder then the time before.

 “Please,” she moan. “I can’t. Aaaiiiiieeeeee!”

“My turn,” Marcus announced. He turn Ms. Americana over on her stomach, got behind her and lifted her hips off the bed. He then inserted his thick cock in her wet pussy. Meanwhile Jessup sat in front of her and stuck his cock in her face.

 “I expect my whores to lick it clean when I’m done.”

 With Marcus pumping her in to another orgasm, the defeated and dazed heroine opened her mouth and accepted Jessup’s member. She sucked and licked it clean until just before her third climax hit her.

 “Mercy,” she begged. “I’m powerless and helpless. What more do you want?”

 “We want you defeated and tamed, bitch.”

 Now it was Jinx’s turn. He spread her ass cheeks, as he got in to position and smeared her own cum on her asshole and all over his own hard cock. The he placed the head of his throbbing cock against her tight virgin anus.

 “Say ah,” he said as he began inserting his shaft in to her back door, slowly going deeper and deeper. Ms. Americana wanted to scream but her mouth was full of Marcus’s cock as he was again pumping away at her. Meanwhile Lance reached underneath taking hold of her clit, again playing with it between his fingers. Ms Americana’s body was heating up again. Her skin was flush and she tingled all over. It was electric. She couldn’t believe it, her body was betraying her yet again. Jinx kept pumping away at her defenseless ass, a little at a time, inch by inch, until he was all the way in. She couldn’t take anymore cock, yet he gain full depth and it felt hard and wonderful at the same time. She had never felt anything like this before. Marcus exploded in her mouth and forced her to swallow it all. A couple of minutes later, Jinx shot off up her ass. A minute later, for the fourth time, the Queen of Justice climaxed as well. They spent the next hour titty fucking her massive chest, as they took their turn running their cock through her deep canyon. By the time they left satisfied, Ms Americana laid on the bed completely spent.

 Siena and Johnnie walked in to the room and dragged her to the bathroom, where they threw her in the shower. They washed, shampooed and douche her. They then toweled her off and blow dried her hair, being careful not to remove her mask. As a last measure Johnnie grabbed an electric razor and shaved her cunt smoothed. Meanwhile, Chris and Bree changed the sheets on the bed. Ms Americana was dragged back and thrown on the bed.

“What happens to me now?” Ms Americana inquired.

 “Well, it’s like this,” Chris began. “Football season is over, basketball season has just started.” She nodded to Siena, who opened the door. Two tall, muscular black men walked in.

 “This is Mike Price, our center and Gerald Ward, the team’s power forward. They want their shot at becoming All-American, or should I say All-Americana,” she laughed. The girls exited the room, leaving Ms Americana alone with the two players. For the next two hours both players had all their fantasies realized and Ms. Americana racked up three more orgasms. They were both remarkably well hung. When they were done the process was repeated. The girls came in, washed the heroine clean, change the bed sheets and three members of the university’s wrestling team came in for their session. They like to wok as a team. While one laid on the bed, pumping away at Ms Americana cunt, another was at her back door going at her ass and the third was busy face fucking her, all at the same time. When done they rotated position. Our heroine racked up four more orgasms. When they left it was ten in the morning. Ms Americana laid face down on the bed completely exhausted and in a daze. Cum dripping from her mouth, cunt and anus. She had streaks of dried cum all over her body, hair, hands and feet.

 Professor Ozakawa and her six girls entered the room and gathered around the bed, triumphantly looking down at the utterly defeated heroine.

“She’s had quite a night,” commented Chris. “Do you think she’s tamed?”

 “We shall soon find out,” answered the Professor. Ozakawa unceremoniously pulled off the heroine’s stained mask, revealing her secret identity to all the girls. She then put on gloves, lifted Brenda’s head by her cum stained hair and gently slapped her face to wake her.

“Brenda, can you hear me?”

 Wade, still in a dazed, opened her eyes. “Can you hear me?” Ozakawa repeated.

 “Yes,” Wade meekly answered.

 “Yes, mistress,” Ozakawa corrected.

 “Yes mistress.”

 “Now Brenda concentrate. I need you to sign some papers. Do you understand?”

 “Yes mistress.”

 “Good. It is not necessary that you read them, it is important that you signed them.”

 “Yes mistress.” A pen was put in the Brenda Wade’s hand. She then signed eight contracts put in front of her. They were standard legal contracts Ozakawa printed off the internet. The first gave the Professor full power of attorney over Brenda Wade’s affairs. The second was specific instructions and permission to dispose of any of Brenda Wade’s assets as the Professor saw fit, at her complete discretion. The third was Wade’s resignation as chairwoman of the Wade Foundation and appointing Misa Ozakawa as it’s new chairwoman. The forth was a proxy assigning Wade’s voting rights for her block of stocks for Wade Industries to Professor Ozakawa. When done Brenda Wade had signed away her great fortune.

“Very good, Brenda. You’ve done well. Now you just have to answer some questions and then I’ll let you get some rest. You must be very tired.”

 First, Brenda used her photographic memory to reveal the account numbers and passwords of all her bank and brokerage accounts, both in the US and overseas. Then she reveal the locations of Ms. Americana’s secret headquarters in Wade Manor.

 “Very good,” Ozakawa said. “Now, I’ve read you have a partner named Flag Girl. What is her real name?”

 Brenda did not hesitate. “Her name is Lydia Willis, she’s my ward.”

 “Oh, I hate that stuck up bitch,” Bree said.

 “Yeah, she always acts like she’s so much better then everyone else just because she has a fancy sports car and expensive clothes,” Johnnie said. The rest of the girls all nodded.

 “Ah yes, I met her,” the Professor responded. “Not very bright. Where is she now?”

 “On vacation in the Bahamas. She’s be back next Friday.”

 The Professor smiled. “We will have a pleasant reception waiting for her. One last thing Brenda. I need the real identities of all the other super heroines. Let’s start with Lady Midnight, who is she?”

 “Angela Grear, she an assistant district attorney.”

 “And this Power Lass?”

 “Karen Clark, she’s a nurse.”

 By the time Ozakawa was finished questioning Brenda, she had learned the secret identities, powers and weaknesses of Lady Midnight, Power Lass, Got Girl, Got Chick, the Green Spectre and Spectre Girl. When done, the Professor allowed Brenda Wade to pass out.

 “Girls,” Ozakawa announced. “I have work to do. I’ll leave this cow to your tender mercies.”

 Professor Ozakawa left the room and went back to the office. She had calls to make and things to arrange. The girls dragged the semi-conscious heroine back to the bathroom, where again she was bathe, shampooed and douche. Then toweled off. The girls were giddy. They had a life size doll to play with.

“Let’s color her hair,” Bree suggested. “We’ll make her a platinum blond.”

 “No, let make her a dirty blond,” countered Siena.

 “A new cut would look nice,” Maureen declared. “Something short like a tapered bob or pageboy.”

 “No, a full blown afro be better,” Linda said.

 “How about we pierce her?” urged Johnnie. “And don’t forget the nipple clams.”

“Hey, I know a tattoo artist that can put a nice painting on her ass,” boosted Chris.

 “All nice idea,” Bree said. “But first things first. Let apply the make up. We give her the works. Make her look like a two dollar whore.”

 The girls went to work. They first cut Brenda Wade’s long raven locks. They planned to sell the hair on-line. Then they dyed her hair blond. Applied the lipstick, eye liner, lashes, blush and mascara. The tattoo artist agreed to work on Brenda in exchange for some quality with her. The girls agreed.

 For the next few days Professor Ozakawa was also busy. First she emptied all of Brenda Wade’s bank and brokerage account, transferring the funds to her private account in the Cayman Island. Then she contacted her brother in Japan. He was a senior executive with the Kurita Corporation. After a brief negotiation, Ozakawa agreed to sell Brenda Wade’s controlling shares of stock in Wade Industries to Kurita. The proceeds of the sale were donated to the Wade Foundation, now completely controlled by Ozakawa.. Kurita made Wade Industries it’s American subsidiary and changed the name to Kurita International USA. Wade Manor was also sold to Ozakawa. When she and the girls arrived there they began to loot. The girls divided Lydia Willis’s expensive wardrobe among themselves. Brenda Wade’s designer clothes were too big, they’d have to be altered. Ozakawa contacted exclusive jeweler and art dealers and held an auction, selling off the two women’s fabulous collection of jewelry, as well as Brenda Wade’s famous art collection. She also sold off Wade’s collection of sport’s cars, with the exception of one Ferrari, which she kept for her own use. She decided to keep the wine collection intact, also for her own use. The girls gathered all of Ms. Americana and Flag Girl’s uniforms found in the secret closet, as was all of Brenda Wade and Ms Americana’s collection of civic citations, awards and photographs. They stuff them all in a metal drum, poured gas and burned them in front of Brenda. It destroyed what little self-image and will power she had left.

 Afterward they lead Brenda to what use to be her master bedroom. Now it belonged to Ozakawa. All of Brenda’s clothes, mementoes and pieces of art had been removed and replaced with items belonging Professor Ozakawa’s, who was sitting at what use to be Brenda Wade’s antique desk, typing away on her laptop computer. Ozakawa looked up.

 “Ah, there you are Brenda.”

 She took a moment to look at Brenda, up and down, from head to toe, front and behind. The girls had done a number on her. Her long raven mane had been cut butch short with the back tapered and the front combed back in to a wave. The hair color was now Pamela Lee blond. She wore ruby red lipstick, heavy, Tammy Fay Baker style, mascara around her eyes and a little too much blush on her cheeks. Her ears were pierced. Her shaven twat had a gold clit ring on it, with two chains attached to it, each chain going up to one of her clamped nipples. On her lower belly, a tattoo in bright gothic letters, read ‘Open For Business’ with an arrow pointing to her shaved cunt. Her left butt cheek, the same style of letters read ‘Superior Woman’ and on the right read ‘Queen Of Justice’. Aside from the chains and clamps, the only real item of clothes she was wearing was a studded dog collar around her neck. Excepted for her amazon build she was unrecognizable from the woman who burst in to her office at the hotel a week and a half earlier.

 “You never did understand what was happening in the hotel,” Ozakawa began. “Having accepted so much of your generosity this past week, I feel obligated to explain it to you.”

 As Professor Ozakawa spoke Brenda merely stood there looking submissively at the ground, unable to meet Ozakawa’s eyes. Almost as a beaten puppy, noted the Professor.

 “When I arrived in your country to teach I noticed something that deeply puzzled me. I saw all these young, bright, intelligent women unable to obtain a higher education because they could not afford it. Your government is eliminating grants for the poor and instead replacing them with loans. They truly expect students to take on what amounts to a twenty year mortgage just to get a higher education. Strange. Even stranger is all these rich women, such as yourself, who claim to want to help girls. But rather then sponsor scholarships, you instead donate to that useless feminist studies department. I resolved to do something about this intolerable situation. Unfortunately, unlike you, I was not a wealthy woman. I could not afford to sponsor all these women’s education. It was Johnnie who suggested the only thing of value they had to offer was their bodies and that is how our little business began. It has paid all their tuition costs and meager living expenses while they pursued their dreams of a better life. When I found out who you were that night, I became very angry with you. It was bad enough you ignored these girls’ needs while hypocritically accepting awards for helping them, but now you wish to shut down the one option open to them to achieve their goals, just because it offends you.

 Now this will all change. Thanks to your unintended generosity the girls will no longer have to be prostitutes. This house will become a residence for young women with great drive and potential but who are too poor to go to college. They will live here, while your great fortune pays for their tuition, meals, medical and clothing allowance. Every year I will select new girls to replace those that have graduated.”

 Brenda still did not respond. She stayed quite, continuing to look down.

 “The question is what to do with you. Since you are now completely pennyless and unemployed, we must find a task for you. It appears you now have only one thing of value to offer. It occurs to me, even though, we now have plenty of money to finance my venture, another revenue stream is always welcomed. But we can discuss that later. Tonight you will spend your last night in this bedroom, servicing me.”

 “Yes Mistress.”

Three Weeks Later:

 The hotel was busier then ever. Scores of men, with plenty of money to spend, jammed the bar every night. Seven women walked around in tight sting bikinis amply displaying what they had to offer, and the men were buying. The woman would take the men to their rooms for an hour, then go back for more. Business was booming.

 Misa Ozakawa proudly surveyed her business. In one room, Angela Grear was on her knees, sucking some big man’s cock. The former Lady Midnight use to be a prosecutor arguing criminal cases in court. Now her mouth was used for a different task. In another room, the former Got Girl and newscaster, Tanya O’ Donnel was being reamed in the ass by an out of town businessman. Karen Clark, a former nurse and heroine, known as Power Lass, was doing a striptease on the bar stage, while men cheered and slipped bills in her G-string. Bills she turned over to Ozakawa at the end of the night. In one of the second floor rooms, the former Green Spectre was being titty fucked by a jock from Delta University. The jocks were some of their best customers. In the room next door, several members of a college fraternity were being entertained by the former Spectre girl and Got Chick, as they performed a hard 69 in the center of the room, for the guest’s viewing pleasure. Lydia Wills led two other bar patron to her room for a double. Both were skinny computer geeks who would never have a shot a someone with a body like Lydia’s, unless, of course, they paid for it.

 None of the women were recognizable. Not after the girls got done with them. Like Brenda Wade, their hair was cut radically different then what it had been. Willis, for instance, had been given a spike hair style. Their hair colors were all changed. They all wore heavy make up, had been pierced and given tattoos on various parts of their bodies. The one that amused Ozakawa the most, was on Green Spectre’s lower back, which had written, ‘Deliveries Made In The Rear,’ with an arrow pointing to the crack of her ass. It had been easy gathering them. First, using the information provided by Brenda, Ozakawa blackmailed them in to giving up their former lives and all their assets and then she had them tamed. The women did not keep what they earned, of course. All the money went in to Ozakawa’s other operations. The women all lived in the hotel.

 Naturally, Ozakawa could not be here to run the business every night. She was a busy woman. Teaching three classes, writing articles, running the Wade Foundation, being house mother the all the girls living at the former Wade Manor, did not leave her the time to fully devote to this thriving business. She needed an assistant, a Madam if you will. That job fell to her first girl, who came to be known as Bend Over Brenda, the teacher’s pet. Brenda’s job was to keep the other girls in line and make sure the operation ran smoothly, this in addition to taking her fair share of customers.

Ozakawa walked in to the office where Brenda was sitting at the desk counting the take.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

 “Excellent Mistress,” Brenda replied enthusiastically. She was always so eager to please. “Business is up and we have a lot of return business.”

 “Good. I’m here now, so I will take over. You get back on the floor.”

 “Yes Mistress.” The other women have grown to hate and fear Brenda and that’s the way Ozakawa wanted it. The teacher’s pet should never be liked by the other pupils.