DELTA NIGHTS 01: 

VALENTINE'S DAY

by Pegasus

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR EASILY OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL, BONDAGE, DISCIPLINE, FEMALE SUBMISSION OR OTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS. Ms Americana/Brenda Wade and Lydia Wills/Flag Girl are the creations of Mr. X. 

This begins in earnest the epic I have planned for the Delta City characters. It is a direct sequel to my story "Happy New Years," and at the same time opens into a much broader plot. I see it as merely the first chapter of the broader story I'm developing, and the New Years story is prologue. By the time the book is done it will have involved most heroines on Mr. X's website, so if you have plot or character suggestions, let me know.

Please direct all comments and feedback to benchleyfan01@yahoo.com.

***

Brenda Wade sat up in bed slowly, groggily. Her alarm had not yet gone off, but the tall window at the end of the room always cast light across her large bed and onto her face early in the morning, so she practically always awoke before she was required to. She slid the silk sheets away from her nude form and swung her long legs over the side of the mattress, pausing to clear her head.

It had been a hard year for Brenda Wade already, and she was only a month and a half into it. At the New Years party she had thrown in her mansion, she had become so intoxicated that she consented to trying cocaine, and after that had participated in a night-long orgy with her at the center of it all. She had been used so many times by so many different men that she would never have thought it possible before that night.

As she dropped to the floor and began her daily morning exercise routine of push-ups and ab crunches, her thoughts drifted back to that wintry night more than a month before when she had been so debased.

Fueled by drugs and alcohol, Brenda had given her body to any man who would take it, including Delta City's mayor, its police commissioner, the state's governor, congressmen, and a long list of peons and partygoers whose names she couldn't remember. She was haunted by that night, by the feelings of complete ecstasy the men had given her. The feelings still lived somewhere inside her head, threatening at all times to corrupt the willpower that kept her emotions at bay.

As she took a hot shower in preparation for the day, Brenda thought of the unfortunate fact that her secret identity, that of the heroine Ms. Americana, had been compromised to a few of her rapists in the course of the night. As the men dominated her, Brenda's free will had evaporated, the mutation that gifted her with super-powers having a reverse effect and in effect bonding her to those men, allowing her to be tamed. After a few days the effects of this taming wore off for the most part, but Brenda still had trouble remembering to stay assertive instead of submissive around men. It was if her mind itself had been transformed after the party. This presented a problem at work, where she was expected to be a hard-assed female executive in a male-dominated job.

As she dressed, Brenda also remembered the worst consequence of that night - her young ward, Lydia Willis, had been involved in the proceedings as well, and had been used just as thoroughly as Brenda had. Lydia had even more trouble than her mentor getting over the effects of the personality-shattering rape royale. Though the girl denied it, Brenda knew Lydia was acting much more coquettish around boys her age now. She went to more parties, parties where Brenda suspected drugs and alcohol were available, and Lydia hadn't once donned the costume of Ms. Americana's sidekick Flag Girl since the beginning of the year. The reason for this was painfully obvious to Brenda - neither of them could make use of their powers for a span of time after engaging in sexual activity. Brenda wasn't sure if Lydia was fully sexually active, but she suspected it, and it made her sad.

Sadness was a familiar emotion to Brenda Wade now. So disappointed was she in her own conduct at the New Years party and the results of that conduct that she sometimes sat alone in her office at Wade Enterprises and simply cried for hour upon hour. She cried because of what had happened, and she cried because like it or not, part of her wanted it to happen again. It was a feeling she could not rid herself of - some instinct deep inside her shouted every waking moment that it wanted to feel the ecstasy again, the thrill of complete submission. And even more dismaying was the unavoidable hunger Brenda felt to try cocaine again. Though she knew the drug was bad for her and led to foolish decisions, she wanted to feel that rush again. It pervaded her thoughts nearly constantly if she let it.

It was on her mind as she dressed in front of a full-length mirror, smoothing out her black skirt on her thighs, straightening the collar of her matching jacket, pausing a moment to gaze at herself. Brenda Wade was in tremendous physical shape, with a flat stomach and athletic tone but with wide hips and an unnaturally large bust as well. Her shiny black hair was pulled back and up into a bun, and she wore pearl earrings to match the strands of pearls around her long neck. She hesitated after buttoning her blouse, gazing into the mirror at the hint of cleavage she was exposing by leaving three buttons undone. Had she always worn her shirt this revealingly? She pondered this for a moment, prepared to fix it, then decided to leave it, striding out of her bedroom, down the grand staircase, and into the kitchen. One of her butlers had left the morning paper on the kitchen table alongside a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.

Brenda picked up the paper. It was Friday, February 14. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, but this meant nothing to her. She scanned the headlines as she ate her scant breakfast. One story on page four caught her eye, and her fair mood headed south as she read the first lines of the story. Apparently there was a bill being proposed in the state legislature to legalize prostitution statewide. She practically dropped her glass of juice as she read the details. Junior state senator Noah Vale had proposed LB244 in the latest session, and it was already seeing overwhelming support from other, elder congressmen on both sides of the aisle. 

Brenda couldn't believe this. Prostitution was one of the biggest social problems in Delta City - it drew the kind of criminal scum she had sworn to fight, and the police did little to prevent it. As Ms. Americana, Brenda fought against the pimps who ruled the worn-down slum known as Sugar Town like a feudal monarchy because she knew in her heart what they were doing was wrong, and because she had the law on her side. Now she was in danger of losing the support of the administration, and she didn't know what she could do about it. 

Finished with breakfast, Brenda stormed outside to get in the red sports car she took to work. Her mood was only worsened as she noticed Lydia's own car was missing, just as it was most mornings. Heaven knew where or with whom her ward had spent last night. Brenda was exasperated, close to giving up trying to help the young girl. 

She drove to work practically fuming, raging inside her head against the men who supported LB244, men like the mayor and the governor, men she had let see her naked, touch her... fuck her... She couldn't believe she'd let such a vile thing happen. Her thoughts lingered on the memory of their cocks, of the smell, the taste, the feel of a warm erection in her hand. Against her better judgment, she remembered how happy she had been to surrender to the feelings they could give her, no matter how repulsed she was in the morning. Her anger fueled her growing arousal until she was nearly panting by the time she arrived at Wade Enterprises. After taking a moment to steady herself, she went in, went straight up to her office, sat behind the desk in her large office, and cried. 

Her mind was a tumult, swirling with confused and opposing emotions. She longed for the feel of a cock inside her again just as she longed for the rush of a cocaine high, though she knew both of them were wrong for her on a basic level. She had to keep her morals clear and straight in order to be the torch of liberty she represented as Ms. Americana. At the same time she was mad at Lydia for capitulating to what must have been the same conflict within her, yet envied her young ward's newfound happiness. 

***

Over the lunch hour, Ms. Americana made a visit to city hall. People noticed as she strode in determinedly that she looked angry, but they were, as usual, also distracted by the amount of skin her outfit showed off. Her crimefighting outfit, as always, was little more than a glorified red, white, and blue bikini, tall red boots, a blue domino mask and a golden tiara. The entirety of her cleavage was on display, along with her taut stomach and curvaceous form, from her thin waist down to her smooth, white thighs. 

She went straight up to Mayor Lou Segusi's office and burst in without asking the secretary if he was free. She found him in a meeting with, of all people, Governor Bud Uronner and a younger, handsomer man. He was thin, with chestnut hair and a pleasant demeanor, far from the corpulent men he shared the room with, but she could imagine him growing up to be just like them. 

All three of them looked up in shock as she barged in and threw the newspaper with the LB244 story on Segusi's desk. 

"What the hell is this?" she yelled, standing with one hand on her wide hips. 

"Ms. Americana," Segusi smiled. "Come right in. I expect you're inquiring as to the prostitution bill?"

"Damn right!" she said loudly. "Just whose idea was this?"

"Uh, mine, ma'am," the young man said, stretching out his hand to her with a pleasant smile. "My name's Noah Vale. I'm your state senator. It's very nice to finally meet you."

She took his hand reluctantly and shook it. 

"Please, pull up a seat," he said. "The mayor, the governor and I were just discussing the very same bill you seem so.. incensed about. Now would be a good time to confer with you, a representative of the, um, vigilante population of the city."

She complied, sitting cross-legged and cross-armed as she waited for Vale to begin his speech. She could tell he was nervous, as nervous as all men are the first time they meet Ms. Americana. What bothered her were the smug smiles on Segusi and Uronner's faces as they regarded her, eyes raking over her luscious body with no reservation, thoughts no doubt filling their minds of the night they had had her. This was the first time she had seen them since... the incident, and she couldn't help remembering that night as well.

"Ms. Americana," Vale began. "This country is heading in a new direction. It's a time to let go of the old ways and move towards some semblance of progressivism. The laws forbidding prostitution in this country are based upon century-old religious prejudices that have even less bearing over our lives than they did when they were instated. We can do more for the women involved in the flesh trade if we have some kind of governmental control and regulatory ability, instead of just bringing down the same old law and justice hammer again and again."

The voluptuous heroine sat and simmered. Vale decided to keep going.

"Listen, I know what you must think about this," he said. "But let me assure you, this legislation is being proposed only to help the girls I know you're concerned about. The outlawing of prostitution in this state has failed just as wholly as prohibition and the war on drugs. It's time we accept that and, well, try to do something about it."

"I don't know you, Mr. Vale," the heroine said after a long silence. "You seem genuine in your care for these matters and your desire to move forward. But I've known a lot of two-faced politicians in this town. The men sitting at this table right now are a good example. They don't care about prostitution, and the only reason they would support your bill wouldn't be what I call progressivism."

"Now, hold on a second," Segusi interrupted. "The things I've done for this town-"

"You're a disease, Louis, and this city's in the state it is right now because of you and yours."

"Well, I didn't hear you complaining when my dick was in you on New Years, bitch."

Noah gasped at this sudden outburst of vulgarity and anger from the mayor. Governor Uronner simply smirked. Ms. Americana balled her fists but said nothing, restraining the urge to leap across the desk and beat this man until his face was bloody. Tears welled in her eyes at the hurtful nature of his words as she remembered that night almost two months prior. In her head she could see Segusi naked, feel his hands on her body, his penis thrusting inside her. It was an awful thought, but heaven help her, she wanted to feel something like that again. Not with him, certainly, but with someone, anyone... She needed to feel loved, wanted, lusted after. She wanted to feel whole again.

Vale simply looked back and forth between them in shock. His reaction did something, at least. It proved that Senator Vale was not (at least not yet) a part of the chauvinist brotherhood that men like Segusi and Uronner belonged to. Abruptly, she kicked back her chair and stood. 

"If that's the level of discourse I'm to expect in this office, Mayor Segusi, then I will take my leave of it," she said haughtily, turning to exit. At the door she paused and turned back. "Senator Vale, perhaps now you have some understanding of the men you're allying yourself with on this quest."

"Don't tell me you've forgotten that night," Segusi crowed after her as Vale nodded and Ms. Americana left. "You haven't! You still want it! And I can give it to you, bitch!"

***

When she returned to the office after her lunch break, Brenda Wade was nearly in tears again. The way Segusi had treated her, the way he and Uronner had looked at her, had her enraged and saddened. She was losing hope that she could change this city with men like that in power. Fighting crime in the streets meant nothing if men could simply rewrite the laws to serve their interests. But why couldn't she be a senator, a mayor, a governor? Her father had run for public office a few times and hadn't succeeded. Perhaps Brenda was better cut out for it. 

Alone in her office, Brenda searched the Internet for information about female senators and representatives throughout the country's history. She'd found her memory of such historical facts had become foggy recently, probably due to the intelligence-draining effects her rape had had on her Aphrodite brain. She had to re-learn simple phrases like "feminism" and "suffrage" in the first weeks of the new year because her brain had surrendered that information as it was overcome with pleasure. It was a simple lesson Brenda had learned - slip up for a moment and pay the consequences. 

Researching heroes of the feminist movement throughout history was an exhilarating experience for Brenda, and the Internet was a perfect place for her to learn such things. Unfortunately, the Internet was also good for other things, and as usual it didn't take the billionaire female executive long to stray away from online encyclopedias and informational sites... to pornographic ones.

It started as it always did nowadays, with Brenda running across a picture of a man she found marginally attractive. Soon she was searching his name to find more pictures of him, then trying for pictures of any men, shirtless men, naked men... Quickly she found her way onto legitimate porno sites, of which there were so many on the world wide web. Hours upon hours of videos were available for her viewing pleasure. She sifted through the ranks, her hunger for release growing as she viewed videos of women being penetrated by men in their pussies, their asses, their mouths, all three at once... Titfucking videos interested her and she glanced down into her own cleavage, comparing her magnificent rack against the women on screen, remembering how her sizable assets had been so thoroughly used at the party. She turned up the sound on her computer slightly, wondering if her young female secretary would hear it from the hall outside, deciding it was worth the risk. 

As lust built in her body she began to breathe heavily, panting at the heat flooding into her. She could hear Segusi's taunts echoing in her head. "You still want it," he had said.

"You still want it," she admitted under her breath as all at once she let go of the mouse and keyboard. Her hands hiked up her skirt around her hips and then her hands began a brutal rubbing of her snatch, moving the panties she wore aside and gasping out loud at the feeling of her fingers meeting her clit. She strummed madly, jaw quivering and eliciting little moans as she masturbated to the porn on her computer screen. The woman there was screaming noisily at the penetration she was receiving, urging on her partner as his thrusts shook her. Brenda pictured herself as that woman, noting how similar they already were in appearance, imagined those were her tits bouncing up and down, her hips grinding into a man's cock, her lips crying out in ecstasy as she gained fulfillment. 

She thought of that nice young man Noah Vale taking her roughly, fucking her. She imagined his face hovering over her with a sheen of sweat covering it as he grimaced in orgasm, sending his spunk into her snatch. She imagined herself kneeling before him in submission to worship his length with her mouth and hands. She saw all of these things, and thoughts of right and wrong, concerns over her femininity and independence, abandoned her as she enjoyed the visions. Within her she felt an orgasm building and continued masturbating without stopping.

Suddenly there was a loud buzzing sound from the phone beside her computer. She jumped, startled, and ceased pleasuring herself in order to hurriedly shut off the sound on her computer. The man and women there continued their intense copulating before her eyes, but the only noise now was what she imagined as she hit the speaker function on her phone. 

"Yes...?" her voice was breathy and low. Her disappointment in not being allowed to reach orgasm shone through.

"Ms. Wade?" It was her secretary. "Just a reminder that you've got your presentation to the board in ten minutes."

Brenda was still for a moment and then remembered this. She cursed silently. "Yes, I'll be ready in a moment," she said, pulling her skirt sadly back down her legs. Her fingers were soaking wet, and she shook them off before standing. "I'd better head upstairs and get prepared."

***

Brenda's legs were still shaking when she reached the board room on the top floor of Wade Tower. The feelings she had thrilled to as she had watched the porn video were not going away, making it difficult to focus on much of anything. She fidgeted during the long elevator ride, smoothing her clothes and checking her hair the entire time, trying not to rub her legs together too much for fear of raising her arousal to a dangerous level. The feelings had gone beyond exciting to irritating now - why couldn't her body understand that she had other things to do in her life besides sate its desires? She was a busy woman, and sex made up such a marginal part of her life. Why was it suddenly of such distracting importance?

When the elevator dinged, she lifted the easel and charts she would be using in her presentation to the board members. Most of them were already in the boardroom seated around the long table. Brenda walked to the end of this table and set up her visual aids as she waited for the remaining members to arrive. Walking was extremely distracting and uncomfortable because of the heat and pleasure radiating from her loins. She had to fight with every fiber of her being the urge to simply reach down and relieve herself. She found herself gazing at each of the board members, all of them men, all over 60 years old, and imagining them naked. She was never nervous about public speaking, and she had never had to imagine her audience in their underwear, as the old cliche went. But this was different. She was looking at these men in their stiff plain suits, with their boring gray haircuts, and imagining what lay beneath - their flesh, their bodies, their balls, their cocks... She had to shake herself out of it. The last of them had arrived. She took a deep breath, but the board chairman, Walter Komfe, cut her off before she could begin.

"Excuse me, Brenda," he said. "I know you're supposed to be giving us your presentation on stock price over the last two quarters compared to our competitors, DockTech and Quest Aerospace, but the board has come to a consensus about another important matter and we would be derelict in our duties if we did not address it right away.

Brenda simply stood and stared, her curiosity at this beginning to outweigh the mounting lust in her body.

"It's come to our attention that on the evening of December 31 you engaged in some... less than appropriate acts at your New Years Party."

"You don't mean..." Brenda gasped.

"I'd rather not discuss the details here and now. But several members of the board who were in attendance have come forward to talk to me personally about the events of the 31st personally. All of those who admitted to participating in said events... have already turned in their resignations."

"Oh no..." Brenda knew what was coming. She was shaken.

"It would be hypocritical of me not to ask the same from you. Our standing president cannot be involved in such behavior. Think of what would happen to the company if this every became public."

"But... but my father built this company from the ground up! I'm his legacy! You can't force me out!" She felt lightheaded momentarily, leaning forward on the table before her. Then she looked up again angrily. "Do you have any idea how much I've sacrificed?"

"Please, Brenda, don't make this any harder than it already is," said the Assistant Chairman.

"You're out, Brenda," Komfe said simply. She had no comeback.

Brenda stormed from the room. As she reached the elevator she heard the door of the boardroom open and close behind her. She turned to see Komfe rushing after her. 

"I'm sorry," he said upon reaching her. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Your father and I were good friends. I know he would be proud of the job you've done here at Wade Enterprises. But we can't have you making a mockery of our company in public. The board is unanimous. You have to go. That is, unless..."

Brenda looked up from staring at the floor. 

"What? Unless what?"

"Well..." Komfe blushed, then smiled. "I heard what went down at that party of yours. Pretty freaky stuff. There are plenty of offices all around this building. Maybe you could... change my mind?"

The combination of anger and sadness that sparked inside of Brenda Wade was enough to make her want to knock Walter Komfe's head off. She might have done it, too, if the elevator hadn't announced its arrival in the brief awkward silence that followed his proposition. So she simply turned on her heels and walked into the elevator, hitting the button for the ground floor.

"You might think I have lost some of my integrity, Mr. Komfe," she said, chin held high as the doors slid shut. "But I can guarantee you... I will never sink that low."

***

Brenda Wade pulled her car into the driveway of Wade Manor and stumbled out, eyes red, mascara tears lining her face. She had taken the rest of the day off and sped straight home, and she now planned to unwind with a stiff drink. As she went inside and got a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen, she ran the day's events over and over again in her head, cursing herself for what she had allowed to happen to her life. She had surrendered her body to some of her fiercest political enemies and doing so had forfeited much of her super strength and intellect. Those enemies were plotting at this very moment to make her life's work as a crimefighter meaningless, and now that night of surrender had resulted in the loss of her job at the head of the company her father started. Deciding against pouring a glass, she simply screwed open the bottle and took a stiff pull, then staggered out into the entryway. 

The day's mail lay on a table beside the door, and her eyes were drawn to a manilla envelope, plainly marked with her name - Brenda. She picked it up and tore it open with her teeth, and then emptied the contents into her free hand. The only thing inside was a VHS tape. Taking another drink, she walked towards the den, where her huge flatscreen television hung on one wall. Already feeling the effects of the booze, it took Brenda a moment to get the tape situated right and into the VCR. But once she hit play, she sobered up instantly at the sight on the screen. 

It was Lydia. Her dear Lydia, her partner in crime, her adopted daughter, her hope for the future... and she was naked. Naked, her perky teenage breasts and shaven cunt exposed, kneeling happily and staring into the camera. Brenda's jaw dropped as before her eyes, a number of naked men approached Lydia from all sides. She couldn't see their faces, only their legs and their genitals. All of them were masturbating furiously, and Lydia looked around and up at them with obvious excitement. Then she started moving, going from cock to cock and rubbing them with her hands, jacking them, licking the heads and shafts eagerly.

Brenda's horror was tinged with undeniable arousal as she watched this taking place. New tears welled in her eyes at this horrific fate for her young ward, but familiar warmth was spreading below her waist as well. She was reminded of the porn she had been watching earlier, how good it had felt to masturbate to it, but she could not, would not bring herself to do the same now, no matter how much her body yearned for release. Instead she simply watched in horror, waiting for an explanation. At last it came, as the screen split in two, Lydia's dutiful actions being squeezed to one side of the frame as a man's face, hidden by a purple cowl and hood, slid in from the right. 

"Hello, Brenda," the man said, and she shivered. "I'm sure you've got a lot of questions. I know I would if I was in your situation. To start off, let me introduce myself. You can call me Mind Fuck. I'm a psychic, and I'm responsible for what is happening to your young friend Lydia. At least, I'm partly responsible. Lydia was more than willing to comply with most of my suggestions, she didn't need much of a push to start her in her career as a pornographic actress. I picked her up at a party two days ago and since then we've had quite a bit of fun together. I have to say, I heard about what went on at your little New Years party, so I expected her to be a little slut already, but... wow. I don't think this is the Lydia Willis you used to know."

Mind Fuck temporarily disappeared from the screen and Lydia's ordeal took over again, just in time for the first of the anonymous men to send a rope of jism flying across her face. Lydia opened her mouth wide and tilted her head back, and the man dispatched the rest of his load into her. Another man followed suit directly after, then another, then another, until they were all used up, and Lydia simply knelt with these naked men around her, mouth still open to show the huge amount of semen they had emptied into her. She gargled the cum briefly, then closed her mouth and, eyes on the camera, tightened her lips and swallowed once, noisily. When she was done, she opened her mouth again, wagging her tongue to show it was all truly gone, down into her stomach now.

The psychic villain slid back onto the screen, taking over as Lydia faded out. 

"You see?" he taunted. "She's quite a natural. This is only one of the videos I have her hard at work completing. Lydia is going to be the next big Internet star soon, believe me."

Brenda sat, shaking with anger. As turned on as she was by the show, this man's audacity enraged her. The glass bottle of whiskey exploded in her clenched hand. 

"So the next question you'll be asking is, Why am I doing this? The only answer I can give you is luck - if I hadn't lucked onto Lydia, I wouldn't have set my eyes on you, but I have, and if you want her back, it's going to cost you. Here's the deal: I don't need Lydia. I have plenty of willing young meat to put in the films I finance. And soon I'll get sick of her and sell her to some white slavery ring or other, and she'll be gone. If you want her back, there's one way to do it - you can find me and submit to me and star in just one of my films, and I'll give Lydia back to you, no funny business. Otherwise, you can say goodbye to Ms. Willis right now... forever."

Mind Fuck faded out and Lydia appeared on the screen once more to finish her scene, eyes still locked on the camera as she slid a finger across her face, cleaning up the excess wads of cum that had landed there during the proceedings. Then she sucked the finger dry without hesitation and swallowed once more, smiling happily. The screen went dark. 

***

On a street corner not far from the official limits of the region of Delta City known as Sugar Town, drug dealers peddled their product. This area was just a slum, known as the Lowdowns, or just the Downs, where poverty was too widespread to create the kind of client base which drew pimps and prostitutes. No skin was on sale here, just drugs. Many of the row houses here were abandoned, condemned or already burnt out, but the lack of a population made this prime real estate for some of the low level heroin and coke kingpins.

Ms. Americana watched from the corner of the roof of one of those condemned red brick houses, crouched to stay in the shadows as she watched the proceedings two stories below. It was the same on this corner as on any other; a client drove or walked up, talked to a runner. That runner crossed the street to talk to his crew chief, a man the vigilante heroine recognized as Preston Broadus. When Broadus gave the okay, the runner got money and sent his customer to a pick-up man. This guy pulled pills from under the stoop he was leaning against and handed them off to the customer smoothly. Ms. Americana squinted in the dim lamplight. She had to pay careful attention, even knowing the process, or she would lose sight of the transaction. She balled her fists and enjoyed the sound of her blue latex gloves crinkling. Then she picked a target.

She had known Preston Broadus since she first put him in juvie lockup when he was thirteen. Now he was close to twenty, she expected, and had moved up little in the organization. But he did have his own corner. He and virtually everyone he knew worked day and night to make this a less livable city. She had to remember that as the rage at the capture of her teenaged sidekick burned within her. She flexed her hands and balled them again and got ready to take out a little frustration.

She leapt from the roof top and fell straight down, legs stiff and together. There was a moment during which all she could hear was the wind whistling by her, and then she landed squarely on the shoulders of Broadus' runner, a boy named Lil' Kevin. She flattened him like a pancake, enjoying the splat of his face on the pavement. Blood and spit flew from his mouth as he collided with the ground, legs and arms spread wide. He was out cold. She had acted so quickly he hadn't even had a chance to let out a shout, and as a result it took several moments for anyone on the street to notice she had taken his place. So she improvised, heading up the street towards the pick-up man, a thinner man named Lex. Lex saw her coming when she was still ten yards away and immediately surrendered his spot on the stoop, turning to run, but Ms. Americana increased her speed and then bounded off one of the other stoops and launched herself down the street, tackling Lex to the ground and driving his face into the concrete. The last thing he saw before she knocked him unconscious was the jiggling of her exposed flesh, its pale color turned to a dull yellow by the street lamps.

This show of violence was enough to make the drug dealers lining the streets balk. Usually, if Ms. Americana or any heroine ventured this far out of her usual focus over in Sugar Town, it was an easy matter to shut down the trade for a few moments and send out harmless cat calls to the sluttily-attired vigilantes. But as Ms. Americana stood above Lex and cracked her knuckles, they were not thinking about the size of her breasts, her flat stomach or wide hips, or the simple costume which left most of her smooth white skin uncovered. For the first time, they saw a look on Ms. Americana's face that made them afraid. 

As they watched, she strolled back down the sidewalk and reached under the stoop, ripping the stash out and inspecting it. Vials of cocaine and heroin filled her gloved hands. She dropped it all to the ground. All of it except for one coke vial. The drug dealers looked on in awe as Ms. Americana, one of their greatest enemies, opened the little vial and tapped some coke out onto the back of her hand, then snorted it. 

The heroine felt a familiar stinging sensation in her nasal passage, spreading to the back of her throat, turning into a numbness of her cheeks and nose, then a warmth spreading down her body, to her fingers and toes. She steadied herself to keep from falling over backwards as the kick began to affect her. Her head felt big, too big for her body. If the drug dealers wanted to attack her, this moment would be the best - she was utterly defenseless, swept away by the building high in her body. But soon that moment passed and the cocaine began working at fueling her lingering anger, and her eyes snapped open again. The dealers lining the street stood, looking on in awe, unsure what to do.

She moved with incredible speed, jolting down the sidewalk and colliding with two more pushers before they had a chance to react. One went flying backwards and crashed into a car windshield, the other was simply trampled underfoot by the raging Ms. Americana, who turned and growled at the crowd of dealers which was growing closer to her. Her anger built and built until the high was driving her crazy. The cocaine had temporarily augmented her prodigious abilities, but little did she know it would also soon drain them.

Broadus shouted at her from across the street and drew a handgun, firing several erratic shots which whizzed by her head and impacted against the brick building behind her. Encouraged on by their chief, more dealers rushed her, but she was too fast. The heroine jumped backwards onto the hood of a car and kicked one of her assailants square in the jaw, breaking it. Then she descended into the group and knocked down five or six more men at once, pushing them down to the ground with ease like bowling pins. Then she hefted a few of them by their belts and tossed them into an alley. This kind of brutal disregard for human life was so unlike her, but it felt good to let go. 

As she headed down the alley to confront the men she had thrown there, a young pusher jumped on her back and began beating her with his fists about her head and neck. The blows felt like nothing and she shrugged off the boy, then turned and pulled him up by his collar and smacked him once, twice, three times across the face. She kept hitting him savagely, enjoying the blood flying from his nose and mouth as he whimpered in resistance. She looked up into the horrified faces of the boy's comrades and she let him drop.

She prepared to continue down the alley when there was a flash of white and she went momentarily blind. She felt her knees buckle and fell to the ground. She shook the stars out of her eyes and prepared to get up when there was a second flash, and this time she felt the impact on the back of her head and realized what had happened. She turned to look up at Broadus, who stood over her with a savage look on his face, holding his gun like a club. He had pistol whipped her so fast she didn't have time to react, and before she could get up he leaned down and hit her in the face with his .45 one more time to be sure.

Ms. Americana sprawled on the ground, her head spinning with a combination of adrenaline and cocaine. Her legs felt miles away, they weren't reacting to her orders, and this criminal stood over her menacingly, eyeing her body. She had transformed back from a terrifying avenger to a mere sex object. More men came up behind Broadus and Ms. Americana realized her powers were dwindling fast as a result of the cocaine in her system. Her biology was not compatible with such drugs, and she felt power leaving her muscles like a bathtub draining. Still, she decided to use her last reserves of energy to leap up and throw a punch at Broadus. 

The man easily dodged it and then retaliated by slapping her in the face, sending her reeling. She staggered backwards against the brick wall on one side of the alleyway. Her mind was falling apart, unable to piece itself together enough to formulate, much less mount, a successful resistance. As Broadus closed in on her, she could do nothing but shy away more and more and whine like a beaten dog, preparing for a fitting end to what had quite possibly been the worst day of her life.

Broadus was about to let Ms. Americana know she was going to be used in the most vicious of ways when he heard a car horn blaring behind him and turned to see a black sedan drive straight up onto the curb and into the alley, knocking aside the onlooking drug dealers or crushing them under its wheels. He could do nothing - he was literally a deer in the headlights until the bumper collided with his knees and sent him flying backwards through the air.

Ms. Americana watched this happen through her drug-addled haze and was dimly aware that she was being rescued. Her savior opened the car door in front of her and urged her to get in. It didn't take much urging, even though she didn't know his identity. She simply hugged herself and slid into the carseat, allowing him to close the door for her before they drove off. She heard Broadus behind them cursing and firing his gun, unable to get off the street due to his broken legs. Ms. Americana slept.

***

She awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in an unfamiliar bed. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes hurriedly and looked around. It was an unfamiliar room as well, but she had been tucked into this bed at some point and had slept like a rock - the rich velvety covers were barely mussed at all. 

Immediately she checked her face and found that she still had her mask on, and a moment later discovered none of her costume had been removed. She looked around nervously. She wasn't tied down to the bed or anything, and the door was slightly ajar. From outside the bedroom she could hear the sounds of someone cooking, and could smell ham and eggs. Her stomach gurgled and she rose from the bed unsteadily, adjusting the straps of her costume. She noticed there was a robe hanging on the inside of the door, so she took it and put it on to cover her modesty. Then she headed out of the bedroom to confront the man who saved her, a man whose identity she still didn't know.

He had his back to her frying eggs on the stove as she came into the kitchen. She didn't recognize him at first, and then she realized who it was a split-second before he turned around with a dish. He jumped a little bit, surprised at her sudden appearance.

"Oh, you're awake," Senator Noah Vale said. "Well, yeah, obviously you are. Hi. Good morning."

She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say.

"Uh, I made eggs," he said, putting the plate down on the table. "If you want to have a bite before you, um, push off."

She still didn't say anything, simply sat down, took a fork, and began eating ravenously.

"Yeah, I thought you might be hungry," he said gently, placing a glass of orange juice before her and pouring one of his own before joining her at the table. "You were in a bad way when I picked you up last night."

She looked up at him with suspicious eyes. Truly, she was having trouble remembering just what happened to her.

"Some street punks, druggies, had you cornered in an alley. They'd beaten you up a little bit, maybe drugged you. I think you were practically asleep already by the time you got in my car. We barely got out of there alive."

It was starting to come back to her now. She remembered the events that had transpired, remembered the violence, the beating, the drugs... She studied her fork for a moment, then bent it between her forefinger and thumb with ease. Good. That meant her powers had returned. She bent it back carefully and shot a glance at a surprised Vale.

"What does your wife think about letting strange women spend the night in your guest bedroom?"

"Uh, I'm not married," he said when he'd gotten over the shock of seeing this tiny show of strength. "Listen, I have to apologize for what happened in our meeting yesterday. I had no idea the mayor would treat you like that. I was... appalled."

Whether she liked it or not, Vale's words had a soothing quality about them. She decided to open up to him a little.

"Nothing new," she said as she chewed eggs. "The administration in this town has always been pretty hostile towards people like me. The vigilantes. The heroines. This is a dangerous town, Mr. Vale."

"I know."

"I don't know if you do. Proposing a bill to end the ban on prostitution? Do you know what that wiil do to the girls in this city?"

"Hopefully help them."

"Maybe in a perfect world, but I think you're assuming law and order control over the trade will be some how be a real improvement over where it is now. The only way to cure it is to frighten the kind of men who take advantage of women. That means the pimps, the pushers... and even men like the mayor."

"Still, you have to agree there's something to be said for a more wide-scale attempt to fix the problem. It has to do more than street-level rips and sting operations."

"My forte, you mean."

"No disrespect intended."

"Of course not."

The two of them smiled and chuckled a little and continued eating. She studied the face of this handsome, earnest young man. Could it be he really had the best interests of the working girls at heart? Had she at last found a potential ally in her private war? It was not hard to imagine. She had been waiting her entire professional career for someone like him.

But as she considered this, she couldn't help but remember that at this very moment, Brenda Wade was out of a job and Lydia Willis was being held somewhere and forced into terrible acts of perversion. That image of her young blonde ward's face being doused in ejaculate popped into her head and she shook with rage and also felt that familiar lust in her loins. Damn it! How could she be expected to find and free Lydia from her captivity if every time she thought of sex she felt faint? This wasn't the way to go through life. It felt like she was losing her mind.

They ate in silence until Ms. Americana spoke up again.

"Either way, I owe you my life and my thanks," she said. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't shown up when you did."

"It was the least I could do. I'm just glad I came by when I did. I was trying to get a feel for the city by checking out some of its... shadier sides. And what do I find? The people of the city rebelling violently against the one person in the city who cares about their futures. It must be hard doing what you do."

"Nothing's ever easy," the heroine admitted. "One thing you should remember if you plan on making a career for yourself as a public crusader: you'll never be punished more than for doing the right thing."

When breakfast was finished she stood to leave.

"Again, I can't tell you how much I owe you. I can't repay you for the kindness you've shown. If I needed proof that you had good intentions... well, I've got that proof now."

At the door they stopped. She thought about leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek, and recognized that he was prepared for it, but instead she opened the door to go.

"Wait," he said before she was gone. "Maybe there is one way you can repay me."

She waited apprehensively.

"Have dinner with me. Tonight. Nothing special, just... two people talking. You're a fascinating woman, and I think together we could do a lot for this city, for the whole state. We both need friends right now."

Ms. Americana had to force herself to pretend to debate it in her head. In truth, she was already on the way to falling for the young Senator Vale.

"I suppose so," she finally conceded. "I'll be back around eight?"

Noah grinned and dropped his head to avoid letting her see him blush.

"Great," he said with reserved jubilation. Then she was gone.

***

When Brenda Wade arrived home, she was exhausted. It was midway through the afternoon and she'd had a hell of a day. She had, after all, had to walk back all the way to the Americar, which she'd parked in an alley in the Lowdowns. It was there that she changed back into her civilian identity for the drive back to Wade Manor.

When she got inside there were two pieces of mail waiting for her - a thin white envelope and a larger manilla envelope like the one she'd received the day before, and she could feel the video tape inside. Shuddering, she took it out and walked to the VCR, where she slumped onto the couch and began to open the other piece of mail. She could smell the whiskey stain from where she had broken the bottle the day before. 

Inside was a brief, concise letter from Wade Enterprises' Board Chairman Walter Komfe. In it, Komfe explained clearly that due to the no confidence vote the board had taken, Brenda had not only lost her position at the head of the company - all her assets were to be liquidated and spread among charitable organizations. All the capital she had invested in Wade Enterprises, an estimated 90% of her fortune, would be lost to her forever. Komfe explained that the board did not come to this decision lightly, but that they had no choice in light of her actions at the New Years Party and in recent weeks. 

Brenda was not hit too hard by this news; she knew it was coming anyway. Some of the relief of not being raped and murdered in the street the night before had taken the edge off it, but not much. If possible, she slumped even lower in her plush couch and threw the letter to the floor as the video started before her.

It opened with a close-up on the face of her newest nemesis, the sinister Mind Fuck, in his rich purple cowl and hood. He was turning to the side to address her, and his face was noticeably sweaty. As the camera pulled out, she could see why. He was naked below the hood and cowl, his lean, athletic body on display, hips rocking back and forth. As it pulled out even more, it was revealed that he was making love to a woman from behind with much gusto. He grunted between some words as he spoke.

"Oh, hello, Brenda... Good to see you again... Just thought I'd send you a reminder that the offer is still open. Everyone here at the studio would love to see you in one of our pictures. We're all dying for a taste. Isn't that right, Lydia?"

Brenda felt a moment of horrified apprehension before her fears were confirmed. Mind Fuck reached down and grasped the hair of his partner and rudely pulled her head back, forcing her to arch her back and lean into the frame. It was Lydia being fucked like an animal on the TV set. Her dear, sweet Lydia.

"Yessss," she hissed, face locked in a beatific smile. Brenda couldn't tell if she was drunk, high, or just enjoying the sex. Either way, it was clear her heroic spirit had been crushed, maybe for good. 

"But it occurred to me," the villain continued, letting Lydia drop back down to the floor as he went on humping her, "that I really didn't give you an address on the last tape. I hoped you'd find me anyway - I expected your detective skills to shine through a little bit. I dunno. Maybe you've been... busy."

Brenda was glued to the set, not just waiting for the information he was about to provide but also intensely absorbed in the motions of erotic fucking taking place. She had to admit, she still envied Lydia a bit for her ability to let go, and for the obvious pleasure she was reaping as a reward. 

"The studio is located inside the warehouse on 13th and Howard Street," the dastardly man finally revealed. "Please drop on by. And don't think of calling the police either. After all, there's nothing illegal going on. Just a few friends having some fun. And we want you to be in on it. Don't we, Lydia?"

He pulled her up again by the hair. Her face was twisted in pain briefly, but it soon returned to that flushed look of ecstasy. 

"Yes... Master..." Lydia moaned. Mind Fuck smiled. The tape was over.

Brenda leaned back; she'd scooted to the edge of her seat during the video, but now she was released from its thrall. She let this new development sink in. True, she hadn't done anything in the 24 hours since she saw the first video to find Lydia. As Ms. Americana, she surely could have tracked down these bastards without being baited with an address. But she'd been so frustrated and wrapped up in her own problems that she'd gone out on the street and almost gotten killed instead. 

She had to remember to focus. Her ward's health, and perhaps her own survival, hinged upon her having a clear head and sound body to confront Mind Fuck. Instead she was letting trivial things like sexual arousal cloud her judgment and make her weak. Even now she was having trouble building up the confidence she would need to enter battle with this new villain. 

As it was, she couldn't imagine herself besting him. If he truly was the master of psychic abilities he claimed to be, how could she beat him? How could their confrontation end in any other way than with her on her knees before him? She shook that image out of her head, but it soon returned. The video she had just seen had made her hot. Too hot. She had to get such primal instincts out of her head if she was to prevail.

She checked her watch. It was nearly time for her to prepare for her date... er, meeting with Senator Vale. She would spend an hour taking out her frustrations on the punching bags in the exercise room downstairs, then take a cold shower and dress in her costume as the Queen of Justice, Ms. Americana. She would have to cut their meeting short to save Lydia, and that's how the evening would end, no matter what her inhibitions said. She would prevail, no matter what.

***

Noah Vale was in the kitchen again when Ms. Americana arrived at the door. He was just taking a pot of rice off the stove when he heard her knock, and when he opened the door he almost lost his breath. 

To say Ms. Americana was beautiful was the understatement of the year. Sure, he had seen her only earlier that day, but her face had been bloodied from the night before, her body stained with soot and dirty water, her eyes red and her hair tousled. Now that she had a chance to prepare to present herself, she did not disappoint. 

She had clothed herself in full formal ceremonial attire. Her raven black tresses were pulled back, held up by her the glittering golden tiara. Instead of the usual two-piece bikini outfit, she wore a more conservative sleeveless kimono, still colored red, white, and blue. Her boots were visible beneath the kimono's hem, and Noah imagined she wore her regular costume underneath it. He acted nervous, and she could imagine him thinking of her in nothing but that outfit, or perhaps nothing at all. 

She stepped into his home and took his hand, shaking it confidently. Her workout session had indeed restored much of her poise. Thoughts of sex were rare in her head, at least for the time being. But she found herself remembering the strange attraction she felt towards Senator Vale. He was a handsome man, surely, but she had known handsome men all her life. What was it about him that made him so... irresistible?

They chatted briefly as he prepared the table and then he presented the meal, lighting candles on the dining room table and dimming the overhead lights as they ate. Noah immediately took the conversation towards the prostitution problem in the city. Ms. Americana smiled politely as she listened to him speaking his mind, thinking that he certainly did seem to gravitate towards that subject a lot.

"Just think of the life of a prostitute in this town," he said wistfully. "Think of the humiliation. The degradation, the shame. Think of the ownership these pimps wield over their girls. Now imagine a system where an administration can regulate and control these things. You're taking the pimps out of the equation entirely. Wouldn't that automatically be better?" 

Ms. Americana let his question hang in the air as she held a fork to her mouth. In truth, she hadn't listened to much of what he had said after he had asked her to imagine the life of a prostitute. That's what she was presently doing - picturing herself in the role of one of the streetwalkers or the upscale escorts, a call girl... She thought of herself being taken, used by a different man every night, maybe two... She thought of herself bowing to her pimp, proclaiming him her God... She thought of the freedom complete surrender of her body would bring... She thought of Noah Vale taking her again. She imagined herself kneeling before him in submission to worship him. She thought of Lydia, out there right now, in need of her help.

That last thought snapped her back to reality. She blinked and moved the fork to her mouth, nodding. 

"Perhaps you're right, Mr. Vale. You're being an optimist in assuming the men in city hall are any better than the ones working the secret brothels in Sugar Town, but like you I believe in this system. And I believe in you."

Noah smiled.

Later they retired to his den for drinks. They sat together on the couch, discussing politics, recounting old stories, sipping wine. At 9:15 she checked her watch. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, Noah, but I have to be going. I wish I could stay and chat but I made a promise to bust up an underground porno ring tonight."

"Oh, won't you stay?" he asked innocently. "I prepared some dessert if you want..."

"No, I really must be off," she confirmed. "It's my duty."

"Okay, well..." he said, rising. He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence, though, before she pulled him in  close for an intense kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and he did the same, surrendering to her superior strength. The kiss was passionate and warm, and it ended as abruptly as it had begun. When he pulled away, he was speechless.

"What... what..."

"You've earned it," she smirked, giving him a quick pat on the crotch. "Thanks for a great dinner. Maybe next time we can kiss other places too."

He was too flabbergasted to even show her out.

Outside in the refreshingly brisk night air, Ms. Americana couldn't wipe the smile from her face. If she ever needed a confidence booster, that did the trick. She could have knocked over the Senator with a feather. She stripped the kimono from her body, exposing her ample chest and voluptuous figure to the moonlight, then hopped in the Americar and tore off towards 13th and Howard and the freedom of young Lydia Willis from the clutches of a dastardly villain. Maybe things were going to turn around for her.

Night had fallen hours ago when she arrived at the warehouse. She parked the Americar blocks away in order to avoid being spotted, then swiftly climbed a fire escape to reach the roof of one of the adjacent warehouses. The industrial district was a dead part of Delta City, as dead as the docks, and now more than ever they were home to the sort of seedy behavior and criminal activity one came to expect. In the distance, she heard a bottle breaking and a dog barking, but she was sure no one heard her as she crept across the rooftop. Her ninja-like grace and speed kept her footfalls light, even in the stiletto boots that were part of her costume. 

Soon she reached the edge of the building and peered across the canyon between this warehouse and the next, where the video had said Mind Fuck's pornography studio would be set up. Through the building's dim windows she could see light flickering from inside, perhaps studio lights. She concentrated and let her senses focus, and she could just barely hear what sounded like... labored moaning. She felt sick to her stomach at what she was about to encounter. But she had found it.

She crouched and then leapt, vaulting through the air between the two warehouses. She touched down gracefully and somersaulted on the metal roof, making not a sound. There was a reason she was the best. She searched the roof for an entry point, and it was not hard to find - a doorway at the other end of the building no doubt led to a staircase. She crossed the roof, checking everywhere for cameras. She couldn't see anything but corrugated metal as far as the roof stretched. There were no cameras. 

She reached the door. It was unlocked. At this point Ms. Americana began to become suspicious. Were they expecting her? Mind Fuck had mentioned the police, but he had said nothing about vigilante involvement. She opened the door just a crack, checking for wires, but there was no visible alarm system attached to it. The steps began directly before her, a spiraling staircase into darkness. She could hear the sound of whatever porno they were filming more clearly now, the grunts and gasps of two humans locked in carnal embrace. She shook her head slightly to get her mind off of the subject and stepped inside, then began descending.

There was a single guard on the staircase, a single unwitting guard, who had failed to do his only job - watch the door. Instead, when Ms. Americana came up behind him, he had his attention focused elsewhere, on the filming going on below him. He didn't have time to cry out as she placed a gloved hand over his mouth and squeezed a pressure point on his solar plexus, then lowered him gently to the stairs. There would be no violence here if she could help it. She wanted to get in and get Lydia out; that was her only mission paramater. She would take down Mind Fuck some other day.

She went down the rest of the staircase unchallenged. She, too, now was watching the proceedings with a disturbing interest. She could recognize Mind Fuck by his purple hood, but he was otherwise naked - he and another man had some blonde actress sandwiched between the two of them. The blonde was delivering suction to the hooded villain while his partner fucked her savagely on a desk. Ms. Americana hoped against hope that she didn't know the blonde's identity, but the pit in her stomach told her otherwise. By the time she reached the floor, she could recognize that it was indeed Lydia. With despair in her heart, she stepped forward towards the - 

Her foot hit a tripwire and suddenly the warehouse, which had been darkened except for the studio portion, lit up brilliantly. Floodlights were everywhere. She stood still, blinded by the light as every guard in the room (and there were literally dozens who had been hidden by the darkness) turned to regard her.

Across the room, Mind Fuck stopped what he was doing and withdrew from Lydia's mouth. As her vision returned, Ms. Americana averted her gaze from his nakedness. Still, in the second she did see his tool, she was astounded by its size. Its length and girth were beyond any she had every seen. It glistened in the light, wet with Lydia Willis' saliva. It stood erect, aiming towards her now like a spear, as if pointing her out to the rest of the men in the room. 

Ms. Americana cursed herself. She had slipped up for a moment, that much was obvious. Her shock at seeing Lydia had caused her to lose focus for just an instant, and... Good God, she thought. That cock. It was enormous. Huge. Beautiful. And it was approaching her now.

"Well, hello there, Ms. Americana," the villain chuckled. "I wish I could say this is a surprise."

"Um, uh, Brenda Wade sent me," she stammered, eyes darting back and forth from this man's face to his magnificent erection. "She told me there was a situation, that her ward Lydia Willis had been - "

"Let's cut the crap, shall we, Brenda?" Mind Fuck interrupted her. "We all know who you are and why you're here."

"What? No, I - I'm here as a representative of Ms. Wade, she said she couldn't go to the police..."

"Please, Brenda, stop embarrassing yourself. Do you really think I couldn't find out your true identity? I'm a psychic, for God's sake. And if there wasn't that, there's always the fact that every major politician in the state found out your identity when they had their way with you on New Years. And if there wasn't that, there's the fact that young Ms. Willis has been singing like a canary once I got inside her head. There's not a secret she hasn't told me. Isn't that right, Lydia?"

"That's right, Master," Lydia said, walking up from behind Mind Fuck in a bathrobe. 

"Lydia, for God's sake, you have to fight it," Ms. Americana suddenly shouted, panicking. "You've got to fight the Aphrodite Gene, it's making you do these things! You're strong enough, you don't have to be tamed!"

Mind Fuck simply chuckled. 

"Oh dear, you really don't get it. You know, this is quite more amusing than I would have expected."

"What are you talking about?"

"This isn't some short-term thing, Brenda. This isn't like all the other times you and yours have let your guards down, slipped up and gotten captured, gotten fucked by some low-level pimp or pusher. I'm not just a man. I'm your genetic opposite. My mind gives me the ability to take apart all your defenses like they were nothing, my body produces fluids that target your very brain and break it down. I haven't just tamed Lydia, like she and you have been accidentally tamed so many times before. I've enslaved her. Forever. And you're next. You can't connive your way out of this one. Luckily... I don't think you want to."

He reacted to her look of shock with a smile.

"Come now, do you think I wouldn't pick up on the waves of lust radiating off you? I know you've tried to wash them away, but you must know they're stronger now than ever. You want it. You want me. You want this cock, to feel it, to taste it. Isn't that right?"

"N-n-no," she stuttered, backing away quicker now, more frantically. "You're wrong. You don't know anything about me. I'm not some animal to be tamed!"

"Of course you are," he assured her, reaching down to stroke his own shaft, distracting her immensely. "That's all you are. That's all we are - animals designed by nature to fuck each other. I'm the Alpha Male. I exist to find you Aphrodite women and make you mine. I don't see what you're so upset about. There are plenty of worse fates."

"No," she stated, trying desperately to be firm, just as she was trying to look him in the eyes instead of focusing on that big, hard cock. "I'm a heroine. I fight evil. I help... people!"

"Well, then, I guess you have a choice. Either you can do that - continue dedicating your life to a pointless mission in a city that doesn't even appreciate or want you. Or you can do this - kneel right now, here before me, and take me in your mouth. I can see it in your eyes, Brenda. I can read your mind. I know you want to. Maybe you won't even let yourself know it, but you want to taste me. You need to."

"You're wrong," she said. "This city does need me. And there are people out there who agree with me, who know that I'm fighting the good fight against corruption, greed, and vice. And they'll fight for me if I'm taken down."

"I expect you're talking about your new friend Senator Vale?"

Ms. Americana felt a surge of horror in her body so strong it almost made her sick. 

"Oh God," she whispered. "What have you done with him?"

"Brenda, Brenda, Brenda... Don't you see?" Mind Fuck shuffled off his cape and pulled off his cowl, exposing his true face, the face of Senator Noah Vale. "I am him."

The heroine let out a wail of horror and acceptance so painful, some of the guards found themselves getting a little emotional. It was as if the world itself had been swept out from under her, a shroud parted to reveal the ugly truth. Mind Fuck, his identity revealed, continued masturbating absentmindedly as Ms. Americana crumpled before him in grief.

"Like I said, you may not have let yourself acknowledge it, but you knew you were never going to be able to come here and defeat me. You knew this is how it would end. And you came anyway. I didn't make you. I could have, but I didn't."

"I know," she sobbed, head in her hands. "I knew I wouldn't be able to defeat you, no matter what. I knew you were going to end up taking me. And God, Noah, I... I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly."

"Everything that's happened since the beginning of the New Year, Brenda... Everything's been for this one moment. I orchestrated your submission at the party, nudged you towards that whorish behavior you're so prone to. I was there, but you didn't see me. And it was I who went public with the information, lost you your job. All of it for this moment, where at last you can renounce the mantle of heroine and accept your new role, your only role, as my slave. And I will be the only villain ever to truly defeat Ms. Americana."

"But... I think something happened that you didn't expect," she said, looking up. Noah stopped his masturbation for a moment, showing surprise for the first time since she had arrived.

"What?" He was cautious now - he couldn't detect Brenda Wade's thoughts anymore.

"You set out to kill off Ms. Americana," she stated.

"In a way, yes."

"Your plan didn't go just the way you might have thought. It's true, my secret identity is that of Brenda Wade," she said, removing her mask of her own will, tossing it to the floor as she wiped away the last of her tears. "But ever since the party... Everything in Brenda Wade's life has gone wrong. Every part in your plot has led to the death of her personality just a little bit. You took everything away from her that made Brenda who she was. Her chastity, her virtue, her pride, her job, even her estate. So you didn't kill off Ms. Americana. You killed off Brenda Wade. All this, the revelation of your identity... that was just the final straw. She's gone now, dead. That part of my identity is gone forever, I can feel it. I can never be her again. I'm Ms. Americana, now and forever."

Noah Vale was silent for a moment. This wasn't a surprise he'd been prepared for. Killing off the secret identity instead of the hero. Now that was interesting.

"So... is that a good thing?" he finally asked.

"Oh, it's a very good thing," Ms. Americana said, rising to her knees and moving swiftly towards him, planting her hands on his cock and guiding it to her mouth in one movement. And in the next second, she was blowing him eagerly, lovingly. He looked down in shock at the sight, thrilling to the sounds of her slurping, suckling on his meat. 

For Brenda, it was as if this decision had set off an explosion in her brain, a chain reaction of light that swept away everything of the old Brenda in its wake until all that was left was the whore that had been growing inside her. Suddenly her actions over the last few months - the orgy at her New Years party, masturbating in her office, being turned on by even the filthiest degradation - seemed natural to her. That was the life of a slut. And all the reservations she'd had, the hang-ups, the insistence on being strong-willed, all of that was foreign now. Those were the tendencies of another woman, a boring woman.

She dove into her work with zest, swiping her tongue wildly up and down his shaft, letting saliva spill out her mouth down her chin and onto his genitals. The guards around her watched, amazed. Many of them had signed up for this job without knowing what it would entail. Having to see a naked man every day at work was well worth it for moments like this, when their boss demonstrated his powers. Ms. Americana, their enemy for years, had fallen like a house of cards before him. Already they felt stiffening in their pants as they watched this heroine go to work on Mind Fuck, jacking him and sucking on the tip of his penis noisily. The crazed look in her eyes told them how excited she was. The villain simply looked down and smiled.

"You can feel it, can't you, Ms. Americana," he boasted. "You have to admit, it feels right."

"Oh, it feels so right," she said, detaching herself from him for a moment and looking up with a toothy grin. "It feels... like I've been waiting for this all my life. Like I was doing everything wrong until now."

Then she dipped back down and took his cock in her mouth, letting it slide over her slick tongue towards the back of her throat. She held it there, then pushed her head even further forward, allowing his cock to head down her gullet. Her gag reflex spasmed around his length, sending waves of pleasure through him. She thrilled at his every gasp and moan - she knew now that she lived to give him pleasure. She felt... whole. And she hadn't even taken him in her cunt yet. Her whole body trembled at the thought, her pussy moistening in preparation. 

"Oh, Noah," she said, pulling away. Globs of spit fell from her mouth, strands connecting her to his pole. "You have to let me help you bring the others down. They have to know the way."

"Of course," he smiled down at her. "That's exactly what Lydia said about you the first time she got a taste of my cock. Don't worry, my dear. It's all in the plan."

Ms. Americana continued blowing him, fitting as much of his length as she could down her throat until the gagging was too much, then pulling out and licking him clean of her thick saliva. His hands ran through her hair, over her face, caressing her. Her eyes were shut in concentration as she did her duty, and she was surprised to feel the presence of another mouth near her own. She opened her eyes and looked straight at Lydia, who was helping herself to some of the meat on display, kneeling and running her mouth up and down over whatever part of Noah Vale's shaft wasn't in Ms. Americana's mouth. Lydia smiled around the cock and Ms. Americana returned the look, knowing that the two of them were closer now than ever, shared a stronger bond under Mind Fuck's enslavement than they ever had as free women. Now more than ever, they truly understood each other's thoughts. And she knew the thought on both of their minds: cock.

Suddenly she felt that pleasant pulse shoot through her Master's cock, felt it swell a bit in her mouth, and then felt the liquid heaven of his semen shooting into her, coating the roof of her mouth, spilling over her tongue. Before she knew it, her mouth was practically full of the stuff. She pulled off it in surprise, swallowing what she could as continued to pump his seed out onto her face, down her neck and onto her tits, finishing by wiping the last drops on her cheeks. She looked down, amazed at the coating she had just received, mind thrilling at this perversion. She'd never seen so much cum...

"What... what..." she stammered.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Lydia asked with a big grin, leaning in to start licking the sperm off of her mentor's body. Ms. Americana could only look up at Noah in amazement.

"It's one of the side-effects of my biology," he shrugged. "I'm the Alpha Male."

She brought her hands up to hold his cock, stroked it, noticing it had not lost any of its rigidity.

"You're still hard," she smiled, eyebrow arching. Lydia leaned in and licked a dollop of semen off her brow.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm afraid it takes more than a little blowjob to get rid of that problem."

"Well, let's get to work," she said, standing before him. She let him lead her by the hand to the very table where he had been fucking Lydia when she had arrived. The younger girl followed, excited gaze alternating between her master's rod and her former hero's shapely body and semen-painted flesh.

Noah sat Ms. Americana down on the edge of the desk and stood between her legs, gazing into her eyes deeply as he unclasped her costume's top. He pulled it away, exposing her firm, full breasts to the crowd, which let out an audible gasp. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman any of them had seen naked - she made Lydia look like the girl she was. Some didn't even notice that the younger girl let her bathrobe fall to the floor as Ms. Americana began to be unclothed. 

Mind Fuck and his new companion shared a long, smoldering kiss before he pushed her over backwards, the two of them lying on the desk, her huge tits squashed underneath his chest as they rubbed against each other. Lydia leaned in, crawling atop the desk and dipping down to lick what she could of Noah's semen off of Ms. Americana's body. Meanwhile Noah was sliding Ms. Americana's bikini bottoms off with zero protest from the wriggling heroine, who kicked off her boots soon after. She set her gloves aside as well before wrapping her long ivory arms around Noah's body, keeping him close as they investigated each other's mouths. 

Ms. Americana felt her lover's erection rubbing against her thigh, her protege's tongue seeking the traces of cum decorating her face and body, and felt at peace with the world. There was only one more step on the road to becoming the new Ms. Americana, and she decided it was time to initiate it. She reached down and sought out Noah's massive erection, guided it to her black-haired pussy. She spread her legs wide, then wrapped them around his buttocks and drew him in. He pulled away from her lips and they stared into each other's eyes as he pushed into her. He smiled at the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth as she was impaled, at the look of euphoria in her face. Her eyes rolled back in her head for a moment and her cheeks flushed, then she locked her gaze with him again, a wide smile plastered on her face.

He held himself upright against the desk and began thrusting into her with slow, determined strokes. Each one took her breath away, such was the feeling of fullness he gave to her. Soon she was gasping to keep up - he rubbed against her in such a way that it aroused her beyond anything she'd ever imagined, much less experienced. He was everywhere he needed to be at once, and he knew it. He cupped her gorgeous face with one hand as he fucked her, the two of them never losing eye contact, even when Lydia finished her meal of cum and hefted one of her bountiful tits to his mouth. He took her nipple between his lips and sucked fiercely, but his eyes were on Ms. Americana as he enacted her enslavement ceremony. 

For her part, Ms. Americana had never been more nervous in her life. The man inside her now was a man she loved, a man she more than loved, a man she worshipped. If she didn't please him now, what would he think of her? These thoughts raced through her mind as he thrust into her sopping wet cunt, but from elsewhere a voice told her not to worry. Their coupling felt so natural, so right, that there was no way he would ever deny her. The realization that she would spend the rest of her life with him, serving him, sent a rush of excitement through her that brought her perilously close to orgasm. 

"Oh," she gasped, unable to form any real words at this point, so inflamed was her brain with lust. Indeed, with every heavenly thrust she felt her intellect slipping away, unnecessary information deserting her. What need for knowledge of math, science, or history would she have in her new life? 

Noah looked down on his prize with joy as he gave her the first proper fuck of her life. As an Alpha Male, the biological opposite to the Aphrodite Female, he had completed her. She would never go back to normal men in search of pleasure now. In truth he had made her stronger - she lived on a higher plane now that she had found her true lot in life. Or rather, now that it had found her.

Their thrusts shook the desk now, making it creak under their weight and strain. A mob of henchmen came from behind Noah and dragged Lydia off the desk. They'd had enough, apparently, and were ready to take out their desires on the willing young blonde. This allowed Noah to focus all of his attention of Ms. Americana, who was panting and wheezing between little squeals of glee. He enjoyed watching beads of sweat breaking out on her naked body, on the slopes of her mountainous breasts and on her taut abdomen. She rocked back and forth with him and ground onto his hips, letting herself be used.

Finally, Ms. Americana felt her lover's muscles tensing, preparing to dispatch another epic load of jism into her womb. She braced herself, holding onto his back and tightening her legs' hold on his bucking body as he gasped. His final thrust rocked the desk up onto two legs, and she felt his seed striking her insides with force. This triggered her own orgasm, a ripple of heat and pleasure that spread from her fingertips to her toes, imbedding pleasure in every muscle and ligament in between. When Noah let the desk slam back down onto all four legs, he looked down on an enslaved superheroine. 

"Oooh, Master," she said in a husky, post-orgasmic voice. "Oh, my God..."

He smiled and nodded, pushing in and out of her a few more times to empty his shaft of extra cum. She closed her eyes and cooed at the feeling, finally relinquishing her grip on him. 

"Well, what's next?" she said after letting out a long sigh of contentment. The two of them looked at each other and laughed. Outside of the private world they now shared, they could hear the muffled grunts and gasps of joy as Lydia was used well behind them. 

"Well," Noah said, "We've got a lot of work to do. I assume crimefighting isn't your career of choice anymore?"

Ms. Americana picked up her red, white, and blue bikini from the desktop, studied it, then tossed it to the floor. 

"No, I don't think that'll entertain me anymore. I can think of more... satisfying lines of work to spend my time in."

"I expected as much. But I'm not going to sell my favorite slave to one of this town's pimps. You'll whore, believe me, but when it's time you'll work for me and only me."

"You mean..." she began. He nodded.

"This town's about to get some new management," Noah smiled, pulling out of her at last. His jism leaked from her vagina copiously onto the desktop. "Someone's going to need to run Delta City once we make prostitution a government function. Which reminds me - I need to get going. I have an appointment to keep. The local news is going to interview Sentor Noah Vale tonight."

"Aaawwww," she pouted. "Why can't you stay here, Master? There's still another hole you haven't fucked me in yet."

"Talk to the boys," he said, gesturing to the crowd of henchmen around them as he backed away. Already they were advancing on her. "I'm sure they'll be more than willing to comply."

With that he was gone, off towards a trailer in the corner of the warehouse to get dressed. Ms. Americana, still as naked as the day she was born, rose up on her knees on the desk, thrusting her chest out to the group of men surrounding her. 

"Alright," she smiled. "Which one of you gentlemen has the biggest cock?"

To be Continued

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