MS AMERICANA; THE SINISTER MADAME SYN

By Magdaz (magdaz8@hotmail.com)

Brenda Wade was taking a Conference call in her plush penthouse office in the Wade Building when one of her aides came rushing through the door.

s Wade!” she gabbled “You must come quickly – the Television next door – the Mayor is a hostage – it’s terrible – you must come.”

Brenda rose and rushed through to the next room as fast as her tight skirt and high heels would permit and with a score of other employees stared up at a huge TV monitor

On the roof top of City Hall, a slim oriental woman in a black catsuit was addressing the camera. Behind her, Delta City’s Mayor was standing gagged and handcuffed. The woman spoke slowly and clearly in good English with no trace of an accent.

“My name is Madame Syn and as you good citizens can see, I have taken you Mayor hostage. If your police force attempt to intervene he will be killed instantly by my associates.”

She pointed to two massively built men standing behind her. Both were carrying pistols fitted with silencers.

“If you him to remain alive, you will inform the vigilante known as Ms Americana that I want to fight her here, one to one. I will defeat her and force her to retire in disgrace”

The screen went blank. In Brenda Wade’s offices, there was uproar. Amid the furore, Brenda slipped into her executive restroom to emerge shortly after as the fabled super heroine, Ms Americana.

The challenge had been clear and unequivocal but it was one which Delta City’s Queen of Justice accepted confidently. Exiting the offices unnoticed using the back stairs, she ran down to the basement garage and leapt on a high powered motorcycle. Within minutes she was at the City Hall and to the cheers of watching employees she raced to the roof to confront the mysterious Madame Syn.

She marched across the roof until the two women stood face to face. Ms Americana stood well over six foot tall in her high heeled boots and seemed to tower over the oriental. The golden power belt encircled her trim waist, and rested low on her well rounded hips. Her huge 44DD breasts jutted from her tiny bikini top. She was a vision of strength and power which contrasted sharply with her opponent’s slim form.

“What you are doing is illegal!” she cried. “You’re under arrest! I suggest you surrender quietly, for I'm in no mood to be trifled with."

Madame Syn said nothing but suddenly kicked out at Ms Americana catching her just under the knee with great force. The masked vigilante’s knee gave out and with a squawk, the surprised super heroine collapsed onto the ground.

The Camera crew had begun broadcasting on the arrival of Ms American and watched as the battle began. A blonde female reporter started an excited commentary.

“Ladies and Gentlemen," she spoke into her headset, "We are broadcasting live from the roof of City Hall where Ms Americana has just told the mysterious Madame Syn that she is under arrest. Oh! Look at that kick. Madame Syn has put Ms Americana down. There's no love lost here. She is getting up quickly but Madame Syn is on her. She has her arms around Ms Americana, squeezing her from behind. Ladies and gentlemen, this fight is coming live from Delta City.”

Finding her arms trapped, Ms Americana gasped and tried to kick back against her opponent’s legs, but Madame Syn’s counter move prevented her from making contact. To the super heroine’s frustration, the cunning oriental began to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to take you down, hard," she hissed as the bigger woman bucked and twisted.

“I can’t let this happen”, Ms Americana thought to herself. She had to get free. She swung her head back and nailed Madame Syn on the nose. She let go and the two scrambled apart to face each other again.

Shaken up, Ms Americana tried to press the attack. She was sure that Madame Syn really was no match for her. A punch got through, catching Madame Syn square between the breasts, rocking the smaller woman backwards. But the slim oriental responded with a flying leap which sent them both tumbling across the roof.

Madame Syn was first up and kicked Ms Americana's legs from under her, sending her sprawling once more. The super heroine was astonished to find that despite her power belt, she had been on the defensive ever since the battle started, Madame Syn was proving more than a match for the voluptuous vigilante.

Madame Syn backed away from Ms Americana, who plunged after her. The wily oriental turned and threw a punch which the Queen of Justice tried to block, but her reaction time had somehow gone wrong. The punch caught her hard on the shoulder. A kick similarly got through her defences and doubled her over. A follow-up sent her crashing to the ground. Madame Syn jumped on top of her.

"Fool," she breathed in the heroine’s ear, "I’m going to have you – and in public – in front of all your fans. Watch this!"

Ms Americana heard a ripping sound as Madame Syn cut through the back of her bikini bottoms. It was just a small cut but it worried her – another set-back.

“You're mine, bitch." With that Madame Syn punched out hard on the masked woman’s huge left breast causing her to gasp in pain.

Ms Americana put everything into throwing Madame Syn off and was surprised at how easy it was. Then she realized that Madame Syn was playing with her, wanting to show the crowd how she was besting her in a fair fight. She was caught with two quick jabs which her down on her plump bottom.

Confidence drained, Ms Americana found her movements getting jerky as she got to her feet and prepared to defend herself the best she could.

"Ladies and Gentlemen,” gasped the reporter. “It looks like Madame Syn really connected there! Ms Americana is down and you can hear….”

The sound of the open handed slap to Ms Americana’s face came through clearly.

"Ms Americana is clearly hurting. She's moving more and more erratically.”

Madame Syn swept in and the Amazon was able to block only the first two of the three blows aimed at her. But she was still the mighty Ms Americana.

“You cannot defeat me” she cried and, rolling as she fell, swept Madame Syn’s feet out from under her.

Madame Syn fell hard on her ass but quickly picked herself up. Moving in, she swept aside Ms Americana’s counter-attack then brought her knee up hard and caught the vigilante square in the belly, doubling her over. Madame Syn, presented with an irresistible target, planted one foot on Ms Americana’s full round ass and shoved, hard. The Queen of Justice went sprawling, gasping for air.

In a very swift and graceful movement, Madame Syn threw herself on top of Ms Americana., then twisted her lithe body until she was seated on the heroine’s lower back facing her feet.

Ms American felt her costume being pinched then pulled away from her ass. To her horror Ms American felt her assailant cutting into her fabled spangled satin bikini briefs.

"Oh, god," Ms Americana groaned as she felt the cool air on her bare ass. There was a wide cut across the top of her buttocks, tapering in towards her crotch. Her thong panties had been cut along with the costume and she felt them being pulled through her crotch and out.

The Television crew gasped as they watched Madame Syn rise and wave the thong above her head like a trophy. Ms Americana’s buns were in plain view as the big woman struggled to her knees, then back to her feet, the remains of her bikini bottoms flapping between her legs.

"Oh, my," The reporter cried. “You heard that rip. This is coming to you Live on Delta-TV. "Ms Americana looks like she's stunned. Oh! Madame Syn just kicked her feet out from under her again and she is down. Look at those buns. Now Ms Americana is getting her face slapped! She's out of it. Madame Syn is beating her, fair and square."

Ms Americana tried to punch at Madame Syn's gloating face but her punch was caught and her arm twisted behind her. As if from nowhere, Madame Syn produced a pair of handcuffs and secured her right wrist. In a moment her other wrist was caught and Madame Syn led her by the handcuffs in a small victory circle. Ms Americana stumbled after Madame Syn, hoping somehow she could do something to gain the upper hand, or at least to escape. But then things got even worse for Delta City’s Queen of Justice. Taking some soft nylon rope from one of her henchmen, Madame Syn clipped it to the middle link of the handcuffs.

The wily oriental pulled her statuesque victim’s hands up and over her head, bringing them down behind her neck. She pulled the rope between the heroine’s legs and tied it to her power belt. The flap of the bikini briefs was caught under the rope and pulled upwards leaving her naked below the hips.

“Great Liberty!” cried Ms Americana. “A crotch rope! I have been defeated.”

“Look at what Madame Syn is doing!” cried the reporter She's carving into Ms Americana’s costume again; this time in front!”

“Whatta set!” shouted the cameraman as Ms Americana’s 44DD’s were revealed in their full glory through her tattered bikini bra. The Camera zoomed in on her huge jiggling breasts, nipples rigid in the cool air.

Madame Syn displayed Ms Americana to the camera. With her hands behind her head, her breasts were pushed out, standing proud, and due to her jerky steps, they bounced. Madame Syn stood back, lined up her targets and slapped both in quick succession

"Yeow!" The heroine’s cry rang out across the roof. The camera zoomed out a little further to show Ms Americana being held by the hair, her head pulled back. A nasty looking little paddle had appeared in Madame Syn’s right hand. As the TV audience watched, the paddle flashed up to contact the heroine’s bottom in a way that made her grunt and her breasts bounce even more. The first crack had caught Ms Americana by surprise and she let out a yell. After that she tried to keep a tighter rein on herself. It didn't help too much, but the volume decreased considerably. Madame Syn was obviously enjoying this and had no plans to end it soon. Ms Americana’s ass was becoming ever tender with each stroke. She could feel her face burning below her mask as she jerkily stepped in a wide circle, propelled by the paddle and the grip on her hair.

"This is what happens to arrogant heroines," Madame Syn cried, as yet another smack sent Ms Americana’s huge buttocks and breasts bouncing. And with every step, the crotch-rope bit into her.

“I think your public will be impressed with what their Queen of Justice is getting now. Just think of all those nice citizens, glued to their TVs as they watch your tits and ass take a licking."

Ms Americana groaned, and gave a yip as a particularly vicious swat caught her unawares. "You won’t tame me! I won’t surrender!” she howled.

"You fat titted bitch. I’m going to break you and make you do anything I say any time I want to.” And as she spoke, she punctuated the words with nasty blows of the paddle and the humiliated super heroine leapt at every one. Her ass felt as if it were on fire. Madame Syn paused and held Ms Americana in one spot while she thrashed her crimson buttocks once again. The one time Queen of Justice could no longer keep from crying out. The combination of pain and the humiliation of knowing she was getting her bare ass paddled on TV, with her bare breasts sticking out was just too much.

"Crying now, bitch? I've only just begun. Now you are going over my knee for a nice bare-assed, bare-handed spanking. ” Madame Syn forced her towards a chair.

The TV crew held their breath. This was amazing. The great Ms Americana with tits and ass exposed, ass red from the paddling Madame Syn had given her. What next?

Madame Syn did not keep them in suspense. “This is just a start, viewers. When I’m finished her, your heroine won’t show her face in this City again. But first, here’s the spanking”.

With her wrists secured in a hammerlock, Ms Americana knew she was helpless. She felt Madame Syn working again at her costume, felt the seams come apart, and closed her eyes. Rudely she was jerked to her feet. She tried a kick but it was easily parried and the return shove dropped her onto her ass.

Madame Syn grasped her by her hair and pulled her again to her feet. This just couldn't be happening. Ms Americana felt herself turned around, looked up and saw the TV crew and camera filming the entire debacle.

“Smile for the Camera, This is where your costume comes off and all the world gets its first view of Ms Americana stripped to the buff.

The former Queen of Justice felt Madame Syn’s hands on her broad back. A quick pull and the bikini top came apart and was flung aside.

"No, no, don't!" Ms Americana felt those hands grip what was left of her briefs. Madame Syn tugged and Ms Americana was now naked except for her power belt boots, gloves and, of course, her famous mask..

"Nice trim pussy" giggled Madame Syn.

Ms Americana flushed. "Please . . ."

There was no mercy in Madame Syn’s eyes. Ms Americana was paraded in a short circle, her head held back by the hair so the camera could get a good shot of her shame on her masked face. This was bad, very bad.

Madame Syn pulled her back towards the chair. Ms Americana felt sick. She was thoroughly cowed and barely resisted as she was deposited stretched and sprawled over Madame Syn’s lap. She didn't even bother to plead, knowing pleas would fall on deaf ears. Madame Syn’s carefully adjusted the heroine’s body across her slim knees..

She started to administer the spanking with strong hands. Ms Americana was soon screaming for mercy.

“If I release you, will you take the mask off?” Madame Syn demanded.

“Never!” sobbed Ms American

Madame Syn resumed the brutal punishment of Ms Americana’s crimson ass. Using her fingernails, she tore the fat nipple of the heroine’s left breast. The beaten Queen of Justice began to howl uncontrollably, begging her nemesis for mercy.

“Please.” She sobbed “No more. You have tamed me. I will do what you want.”

In triumph, Madame Syn stood the quivering, humiliated heroine on her feet released her bonds and left her standing sobbing and naked in front of the and TV camera. As the Oriental woman stood menacingly close, Brenda Wade’s trembling hand rose to her face and pulled off the mask, revealing her secret identity to the world.

Epilogue

In the penthouse office at the top of the Syn building, the proprietor pressed an intercom button on her huge desk.

“Send the maid in.” said Madame Syn.

The door opened and Brenda Wade came teetering into the office walking on high heels which made her sway, jiggling like a street whore. Her big statuesque body was crammed into a tight black dress. The costume’s top was black, lacy and extremely tight. Her huge breasts looked like two enormous scoops of ice cream sitting in two extremely small serving dishes. It barely kept her nipples inside the bra cups. Her tiny skirt was so short that it did not cover the tops of her fishnet stockings that ran from the outfit's six inch, stiletto heels to the tops of her lush full white thighs.

“Come on, slut,” giggled Madame Syn “It’s time for your morning spanking.

With a moan of despair, Brenda Wade spread herself face down across the desk from which she had once controlled the vast corporation, Wade Enterprises. Her mistress walked round the desk and flipped the ‘maid’s’ skirt up over her plump bottom. The former female tycoon wore no panties. A rubber plug protruded from her ass.

Madam Syn raised the cane.

“Crack!”

“Ow!!!”

“One..” counted Madame Syn.