The following is a work of fiction intended for adult entertainment. The author hereby declares any elements contained herein that may be construed to be of original creation to be works of public domain. Ms. Americana is the copyrighted creation of Mr. X and is used in kind permission by him as detailed on his website. Rook.

Authors note: This quick story is written in celebration of Ms. Americana finally losing the 44-DD training bra and moving up to the more respectable SUPER HEROINE worthy 38-G cup! As ‘the’ flagship icon of a multitude of fantastic super heroine characters on Mr. X’s great site I always thought she should be a bit ’bigger’ in the ‘girls’ than all the other heroines and villainess as befitting her wonderful fun ego and over-the-top persona! Congrats Ms. A!

Rook.

MS. AMERICANA versus THE BOOBY TRAP! In “All’s Fair in Love and W.H.O.R.E.S.”

Ms. Americana surveyed the bustling throng of people with a sterling smile of pride. The first annual ‘Woman’s Home & Occupational Rights Empowerment Services’ fair and fund raiser was a smashing success! As Brenda Wade, Ms. Americana’s equally staunch feminist billionaire business secret identity alter ego, she had labored for more than a year hammering out the details of this pet project to both raise money to bolster new female community projects and to celebrate the collective achievement of those projects already in successful completion. True, her Ms. Americana persona had required her to shed more and more of the final stretch details in the last six months onto various subordinate individuals, something she disliked doing, but the overall effect was most satisfying! This was something of an anxious relief to her, as more and more of those myriad details had fallen into the lap of the odious Rex Phallus. Mr. Phallus had been thrust upon her after near disaster in the recent stock market dive by her own nervous board of directors. A sort of board reporting watch dog, who had been decisively against the whole idea of pouring yet more millions of scare dollars down what he considered a lost cause, what he called the ’feminist drain’ a dinosaur of silly and ultimately pointless hay burner luxury hobby projects that the board simply could no longer tolerate in this belt tightening day and age. But all of a sudden he had turned his views around 180 degrees and thrown himself whole heartedly and some what recklessly into the whole core cause of the feminist notion. Brenda had figured this had more to do with his currently rocky dating one of her branch office heads of staff; Miss Ivana Peters, also a committed feminist, and Ivana’s indirect and direct influence than any true changing of Mr. Phallus rather inbred blatant chauvinistic ways. The spots were still there, but the leopard was desperately trying to cover them up! But if it meant that Brenda now had an egger lap dog doing tricks for her rather than a snarling watch dog snapping at her heels ,abet in some vain attempt at trying to impress his lady love and thus curry her favor by enamoring himself to anything pro-Brenda Wade, well, then so be it! She wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it was an ass!

Still it’s one thing to force a smile and ape a curtsy, but another to teach maladroit hands a subtle and painstaking grace to a task thought tedious and dull by the self same owner of those hands, so Ms. Americana had made her celebrity appearance at the street fair with half held breath. But so far, everything seemed fine, in fact better than she could have imagined and the relief added genuine happiness to her handshakes and autographs and picture posing as she sauntered through the thick crowds.

It wasn’t to last of course. It was inevitable that a man who thought of women as little more than sex toys and unpaid housekeepers could some how invariably not leave his grimy salacious fingerprints and rancid presence somewhere on such an alien landscape of pristine pure thought as the very principles of feminism must be to such a toad. And there was one right before her as she slipped between two booths promoting alternative energies in the home. It was a dunk tank. Innocent enough; twenty dollars for three tries to hit the target and dunk the person inside the tank. The only problem was that the booth was being run by several exceptionally large breasted young co-eds in tight almost see-through gauzy white t-shirts and skin tight white hot pant shorts! There was a line of men almost a block long eagerly waiting a turn at dunking one of the laughing taunting vixens and thus rendering her soaked and for all practical purposes NUDE! The rampant vile sexism was like a slap in the face and she felt herself flush at it. She quickly doubled back to where she had posed for a front page hand shake photo for the newspaper with Mr. Phallus just a moment before, and caught him by the elbow and half lifted half dragged him back to the dunk tank away from the reporters he was still bamboozling.

It was however, the wrong reaction in that Ms. Americana-Brenda Wade had been so keyed up and tense in dread anticipation of finding some hint of male pig sexism from the long time nefarious woman degrading Mr. Phallus, that upon stumbling over this one little blemish in ‘her’ perfect shinning celebration, she had exploded as if it had been an entire plot to undermine the very feminist cause! In short, as she stood there holding Rex under the shoulder his toes scraping the sidewalk and shook him to punctuate her hissing finger jabs at his chest and then the dump tank, she began to slowly realize that she was indeed over reacting.

“What is this?!” Ms. Americana growled down into the wincing Rex’s face and waved his body in the direction of the dunk tank. The hapless man stuttered and desperately scanned the area and it became increasingly obvious that he simply couldn’t fathom what the statuesque super heroine was referring to so angrily. “This!” She hissed again and pulled him up close to her, jutting a crimson gloved finger at the dunk tank, but in trying to narrow his feeble male concentration and view down along her arm and onto the offending item upon the immediate horizon she had unwittingly brought the disgustingly ever horny bent mind sexist’s face into the mighty swells of enormous cleavage. Glancing down in frustration at the still un-answering male pig she gasped then growled to see his reddened face gauntlet planted deep into her bosom. His nose twitching just above her ever erect nipple which threatened to whisper out and say ‘hello’ from her tiny straining top to his bulging glued eyes rapturous stare. Ms. Americana sighed in resigned frustration, her anger melting away into a languid disgust mixed with mirth. There would be no ‘reasoning’ with him now, her mighty jugs of justice had simply over loaded his tiny male brain. “What dose Ivana see in you anyway?” Ms. Americana frowned and shook her head down at the sweating face of the sexiest pig now turning purple buried in the doughy warm perfection of her right breast three times the size of his perfectly groomed head and as she pondered in frown and smirk at what Ivana Peters, one of her most gifted feminist allies in the great cause, could possibly see in this loud bombastic popinjay, but even then the limp fifteen thousand dollar silk suited Mr. Phallus body swayed on his tip toes in the mighty Amazon’s grasp and brought his groin into hard contact with one of her wide stance legs. It was as if one pillar was brought to bare against another in an ancient ruin of earth quaking collapse, “oh my!” Ms Americana raised her eyebrows as she distinctly felt the rather impressive thud of unexpected cock meat against her naked and suddenly quivering thigh. Only a thin layer of worsted silk dress pants was between her and what must have been a ‘thunder stick’ of a goodly thick twenty four incher! “Well, perhaps I can see what Ms. Peters sees in you after all.” Ms. Americana blushed down at the twitching eyes still fixed into the heaving orbit of her heavenly spheres, as she felt a distinctive warmth swirling through her, “though I am certain she has never quiet managed to garner such a reaction with her own, err, lesser endowments to the charities of the world.” Ms. Americana smiled broadly down at the man who remained utterly transfixed upon her udders and thus blind to the world beyond their undulating influence of gravitational pull. As She purred and cooed at the silly man dangling in her vice like grip.

“What is going on here?!” Ms. Americana turned to see the busty three button blazer juggling approach of a very angry and confused Ivana Peters who pulled up short before the back of the swiveling Queen of Justice and throwing a hand upon her narrow hips jutting business suit short side zipper skirt frowned and erupted another surly remark, “That is if you don’t mind my asking!?”

“Err, ah,” the Champion of Crime Busting shot a glance down at the man’s face she had helpless pined and almost suffocated into her tit and quickly let him go. “Nothing, that is,” the man flopped to the pavement. Landing dazed upon his ass, his eyes still focused upon Ms. Americana’s lusty giant jugs. “I was only asking Mr. Phallus here why there would be a dunk tank with scantily clad women withering about in wanton fashion at a feminist fun fair?” Ms. Americana turned fully toward the scowling Ms. Peters and planted both of her own fists upon her own proud jutting hips. Unfortunately she failed to see that one of her serving spoon sized nipples had blushed its way up and loose of her straining top and was slick with the still streaming saliva of Rex Phallus, which ultimately undermined her recrimination back lob to the sour faced Ivana.

“Oh really,” Ivana folded her arms under her own rather impressive dress shirt straining deep cleavage breasts and tapped a dainty spike heeled toe at the taken back raven haired Delta City do-gooder. Ivana directed her pursed brow glare at Ms. Americana’s right breast and nodded, “seems you have left a pie on the window sill honey.” Ms. Americana frowned down at her right breast only to recoil in embarrassed shock to see her large pert puffy nipple slipped up over the lip of her gold braided bikini top, wet with saliva and swollen with suckling. A red gloved hand shot up to cover her gasping mouth and a second latter her other gloved hand shot up to cover her exposed nipple. Ivana sauntered past the Star Spangled super heroine who frantically was trying to tuck the naughty nipple back into its place in her straining quaking bikini cup. “I’ve heard once you’ve had them ‘done’ dear, they lose a lot of their sensitivity. Well, what can one expect from old bags of silicone and saline?” Ivana sneered at the fumbling Ms. Americana who with red face was having the usual difficulty of the fact that once her nipples became aroused they seemed to take on a will almost their own! “Get up, Rex!’ Ivana having placed herself between the still busy busty heroine and the sprawled Mr. Phallus now snarled at the man whose gaze was obviously still haunted by those mighty magnificent mountains that Ms. Americana was now giving a last throat clearing smoothing pat into reassuring place. “Get up, or would you like us to play Grand Prix again?” Ivana placed her stiletto heels dagger like point directly above Rex’s wide kneed dazed proffered anus and pushed it down until the thin fabric was indented into the puckered opening and then see-sawed her shoe as if she was maniacally working the levered gas pedal of a race car, she brought the ball of her leather pointed toe shoe crushing imperiously down upon the thick slab of obviously erect cock meat sickenly squelching side to side under her grinding foots pumping. Rex’s face went pale and his cheeks sucked into his open lax mouth still dribbling saliva off his wet lips, but despite his best efforts to scramble to his feet, Ivana kept him squirming there pined like a collectors insect under her stick pin heel.

Ivana shot a wicked smile over her shoulder at Ms. Americana and shook an exasperated head, “men!” Both women laughed and in an instant all was forgiven between them. “Now,” Ivana tossed her short bob cut red silken hair out of her flashing green eyes and with her foots still grinding furiously into the helpless crotch of her prone pain wiggling boyfriend shared a smile with the costumed crusader. “What seems to be the problem, Ms. Americana?”

Ms. Americana now calmly explained her concern to Ivana about the dunk tanks presence at the fem fair. Ivana, who was nominally in charge of the fair in Brenda Wades absence listened intently and nodded politely before a back drop of Rex’s pained groans and wheezing pleadings for release. It was hard for Ms. Americana not to smile or giggle at the man out of sight behind the intent oblivious business woman who added a comic mirth of mutterings and incoherent whelps as Ivana quickly explained back to Ms. Americana that the dunk tank was ‘her’ idea and not Rex’s.

Ivan stepped off of Rex’s crotch and leaving him there ignored as he withered clutching his bruised loin lead Ms. Americana by the arm past the large massive TV. Screen were Brenda Wade had made a supposedly ‘live’ broadcast from her privet jet for the opening ceremonies of the fair and where now endless live broadcasts of the various goings on of the fair where being shown from the near by camera van that was taking in all the wandering roving live coverage reporters and live band footage and interviews and editing them together into the on going local television stations all day coverage of the event.

Ivana explained that the reality was that 80% of the fairs participants were women and those few 20% of males who were there were either on the clock and working or else being drug around by their girlfriends. There was simply no future in the feminist cause if it continued to isolate males from active involvement of its platforms and agendas. Unfortunately this meant luring the men to the fair with a few well placed ‘male’ inducements that would hold their attention and lessen their fears. The dunk tank was one of these.

Ms. Americana started to object but Ivana waved her off and lead her up to the dunk tank proper. Besides, she added in a whisper into the crime fighters star dangling ear, the target on the dunk tank was rigged so it was nigh impossible for any of the stupid men to manage to dunk any of the happy co-eds managing the booth! Ms. Americana recoiled at that, she wasn’t sure how comfortable she was with the idea of ‘dishonesty’ in her own fun fair? But before she could sort out her thoughts upon the matter, Ivana had brought them up short at the side of the wood and canvas booth of the dunk tank its self and asked, “how much?”

“Almost five grand!” A J-cupped slim beauty giggled and shimmied in her white cotton tight out fit see-through even in its pristine dry state and she jiggled in obvious proud mirth and uncontrollable glee.

Ms. Americana was flabbergasted, “already?!” The fair has only been open for a few hours at most! The giddy buxom waif nodded vigorously back at the busty super heroine causing her enormous spheres to leap about in rapid splendor and beamed uncontrollable smiles as Ivana raised an eyebrow at Ms. Americana’s shocked reaction. “Well, err, that’s fantastic!” Ms. Americana blurted out! Ms. Americana-Brenda Wade, like most obscenely wealthy persons believed that merely giving of their own money no matter how efficient and common sense this was to achieving a charities goal was some how not as desirable as having the poor of the community to come up with the money on its scraping painful own and thus ‘feel’ an ownership and pride in the project that they simply wouldn’t know if it was ‘bought’ for them. This was utter bullshit of course and one of the principle reasons for economic failures in the world, where when instead of paying living wages the rich instead insisted on forcing all people to slave away their lives on hopeless debt for day to day expenditures of credit and the imprisonment of the same, and when out of brute necessity the people forced some slight raise in their wages the rich never took the money out of their own obscene bloated paychecks but instead shaved the money out of the companies profits and then blamed the poor for asking for too much when the inevitable collapse would come instead of the true fault of themselves for hording up seventy percent of the worlds wealth into less than ten percent of the humane race, and so it was with their pet projects and charities as well, and thus Brenda Wade- Ms. Americana found herself beaming with red faced pride at how successful ‘her’ dunk tank had raked in the money for future feminist programs and from ‘males’ none the less! That five grand wouldn’t even begin to cover Brenda’s own expenses in what her hired ‘shopper’ bought weekly in just lotions and hand creams and bath oils and toiletries for her several dozen bathrooms in her Wade Mansion was, as it always was upon the rich, utterly lost upon her mind. She could have groused up five grand out of her seat cushions after a dinner party! But never once did such thoughts cross her mind and she only gazed in open joy at the open cash box full of wads of bills that the young girl had handed to Ivana and then she into the gauntlet gloved defender of right!

“Hannah here is actually the head of the Ms. Americana Fan Club of Delta City College,” Ivana nodded at the young woman who took back the small cash box which each booth had and which Ms. Americana closed and handed back to her.

“It is the greatest honor to meet you in person, Ms. Americana. On behalf of my sisters, we just want to thank you for letting us help in this wonderful event!” The girl blushed and her broad smile revealed her braces.

Another young girl just as curvaceous chimed in, “yes thank you Ms. Americana it’s so nice of you to let us help in such an important occasion like this and do something so meaningful!” The other girls in the booth nodded and added their ‘thanks’ and smiles, even the girl with the shower cap and comical swimming goggles taking her turn up on the dunk tank plank stopped her ‘taunting’ of the boy who was respectively waiting for his turn at throwing the over sized secretly lop weighted soft ball lumps of bean bags at the tiny red target in the bull’s-eye arm and waved over at Ms. Americana smiling intently.

Ivana turned back to Ms. Americana’s shoulder and whispered, “still want to shut these young girls down?”

“What was that?” A frightened and unsure Hannah asked. All the girls began to look anxious and worried. Ivana raised an eye brow and waited for an answer. Ms. Americana stuttered. “Is something wrong? Did we do something wrong?” An almost pained Hannah asked searching between Ms. Americana’s open mouth head shaking face and Ivana’s cool detached demure look.

“No of course not darling.” Ivana responded and stood up from her elbow leaning on the booth rail. “You all have done exceptionally well haven’t they Ms. Americana?“ Ms. Americana nodded and smiled reassuringly at the group of young girls who sighed and laughed relieved. “Ms. Americana was only worried that perhaps you felt some how ‘pressured’ into doing this particular task as you have exceptional physical beauty and sexual allure and that perhaps this had been a sort of ‘type casting’ as it were and that you may not want to be put into such a position where men so desiring of your beauty should pay to ogle at you, and that you may wish to be employed else where in the fair instead of simply being assumed to into this role because of your obvious good looks and apparent charms.”

“But we are proud of our bodies!” One girl defiantly put her hand on her hip.

“And we like what we are doing!” Another frowned at Ms. Americana who began to wave her hands in a gesture of asking for ‘pause’ between them and the gathering storm of increasingly angry young girls.

“Besides, I thought the whole idea of this feminist thing was to have the freedom to be sexy when we want just as much as to not be sexy when we want?!” Another angry girl pouted.

“We are just as proud of our bodies as you are of yours,” a frowning girl nodded over at Ms. Americana’s opulent tits, “just because yours are so much bigger than some of ours doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy what we got.” The entire group was scowling at her now.

But it was sad little Hannah’s confused face that struck deepest at the super heroines hart, “what have we done wrong?”

“Nothing my, dear.” Ivana leaned over the booth railing and gave the diminutive large busted brace faced girl a motherly hug, both their sets of jugs nearly destroyed their individual clothing in the brief tussle. “Girls you have misunderstood me entirely. Ms. Americana wasn’t criticizing your wonderful work here she was merely worried that you may have been felt compelled by peer pressure because of your physical beauty to perform in this task when you may desired to do some other task in this fair today. That’s all.” The girls made ‘OH’ sounds and nodded relieved but still looked wounded and hurt. “In fact, of all the booths here today, Ms. Americana adamantly requested permission to work in this one! Isn’t that right, Ms. Americana?” All the faces froze in excited anticipation upon the Queen of Justice and she nodded widely shrugging her shoulders meekly, causing the small throng of girls to explode in leaping squealing glee!

“Of course, this IS a charity fund raising event and-”

Ivana turned to the long line of males who were peering at the strange spectacle before them, “we can not expect Delta Cities greatest super heroine to place herself in a dunk tank for a mere twenty dollars for three balls!” Ms. Americana was trying to stop Ivana from continuing her announcement, whispering that she had only meant she wished to work the cash box with the girls not go into the dunk tank, while beaming smiles at the girls who were racing about as excited bees now, and dealing with her thrumming ego as the words ‘greatest super heroine’ made her blush and smile a shaking half hearted refusal of such a moniker. “Who here would pay one hundred dollars a throw! To dunk the Great Ms. Americana for women’s charities world wide!” The entire line of hundreds of men shouted in a roar and thrust up their hands! Ms. Americana was simply dumfounded! ‘A hundred dollars a ball?!’ The girls were leaping about like kangaroos and the super heroine was struck in awe at the wave after wave of cheers leaping about her soaring ego! “What do you say, Ms. Americana?” Ivana winked at her.

“I-I-” Ms. Americana blushed.

“We’ll pay two hundred dollars a throw!” A male voice shouted out and everyone shouted in loud boisterous accent.

“Well, I guess I say, Power to the Glorious Cause!” And Ms. Americana raised her gloved fist and struck a classical wide stance pose as everyone roared in joy before her grinning face!

“Alright girls, get her ready. And all of you men there, back in line!” Ivana waved Ms. Americana who had a momentary flash of doubt blush across her face and three of the booth girls away and turned to snap the throng of excited men back into a respectable order.

“Err, ready?!” Ms. Americana mumbled as the girls half lead half dragged her away into a near by canvas tent.

“You can change in here, Ms. Americana.” Hannah gushed, “we’ll help you!” The other girls began to unlock a heavy steamer trunk and move to make sure the tent flap opening was securely closed behind them. One girl quickly retrieved a slim thin pile of white cotton folded clothes from one open chest while the other removed an empty plastic tote. “You can put your things into the tote and we’ll lock it up into the trunk with our stuff.” Hannah breathlessly hummed as everyone bustled around the tall super heroine, “and I will stay here myself to watch over the trunk so you won’t have to worry about a thing. That is, if you trust me with such an important honor?” Ms. Americana smiled and nodded. Soon all the girls were still and staring at her expectantly and Ms. Americana found herself self-consciously slowly undoing the clasp to her top. As the top sprang open and the taught cups leapt from her mighty melons there was a sudden collective gasp from all the young girls present. Ms. Americana froze, unsure what was amiss. “They are truly magnificent,” Hannah whispered the slack jaw awe on her and all the other girls faces caused Ms. Americana to blush and slowly she lowered her arm which she had placed instinctively over her nipples to conceal them. As the arm dropped more gasps and worshipful praise from all the young ladies; ‘wonderful’ ‘incredible’ ‘perfect’ ‘fucking hot!’ the last breathy comment caused all the girls to giggle and the speaker to shy away and clear her throat. Ms. Americana laughed and blushed with new felt powerful pride. “I wish my tits were as great as yours Ms. Americana.” Hannah whined as she rubbed the front of her shirt, beneath the thin transparent fabric one could easily make out Hannah’s silver dollar sized nipples and their alert status, she gave herself a gasping squeeze and raised her wet heavy lidded eyes back up to Ms. Americana’s imposing bosom. In fact, all the girls were making nods of consent and inspecting their own titanic racks in minute comparison to the Queen of Justices incomparable mighty mounds.

Ms. Americana cleared her throat, “Well, girls I can honestly say I have never seen such a lovely assortment of healthy breasts as these around me now. And they, err, I mean, you each possess some exemplar quiet spectacular mammary glands of the most exceptional nature, and err, is it getting hot in here?” The girls all giggled and Ms. Americana let them help her on with the very tight thin white cotton shirt and as she babbled innocently she was somewhat pleasantly startled to realize the girls were rubbing lotion all over her body and under the half on tight shirt.

“The water is very cold and there is a bit of a breeze blowing up off of it. This will help keep you warm, madam.” Hannah looked up at Ms. Americana with large wet hungry eyes as she kneaded the lotion with ever increasing force into her ample super heroine breasts.

“Uh, thank you Hannah.” Ms. Americana breathed heavily under fluttering eye lids, “maybe we should all share in the precaution of applying oils to each other, here Hannah let me apply some to your own exceptional breasts.” Hannah obediently raised up her tight top and let Ms. Americana’s gloved hands squeeze off the excess lotion under her own white Tee and massage them into Hannah’s blushing well tanned tits. “You have such lovely tits, Hannah. You really shouldn’t be afraid to show them more, women like us should never let shame deface our public pride in our bountiful beauty.”

“Yes, madam.” Hannah breathed in deep panting breaths her open mouth flashing her braces.

“Look I told you she wasn’t one of those bald beaver bitches, those cold fish stews.” Hannah and Ms. Americana snapped out of their hypnotic state each had been breathing their heated breaths into one another’s open panting almost touching mouths and now they responded to the excited jibe of one of the girls and both looked down to see Ms. Americana’s fully exposed wet dripping snatch.

‘Somehow they have undressed me?’ A befuddled Ms. Americana noted her soaked patriotic panties clutched in one of the small hands of a large breasted girl. All the girls were now petting and admiring Ms. Americana’s heavily haired snatch.

“Is it true boys like a girl with a really hairy pussy?” Hannah languidly breathed as she stroked the downy thick patch between the super heroines trembling thighs.

“Uh, some do.” A confused Ms. Americana muttered unsure what to say before the drooling eyed girls ringing about her. She carefully took the white hot pants from the limp hands of one of the teen girls and quickly squirmed into the impossible tight fitting skimpy shorts. The girls giggled and helped her wiggle them finally into place. They didn’t rise all the way up her buttocks and the nearly transparent material was camel toeing her crotch something fierce! But what concerned her most was the increasing large wet spot soaking through at her hungry pussy’s orifice. But she quickly noticed all the girls shorts were thus dampened and so she felt her confidence rise again.

A young girl shot her head into the tent opening and hissed, “for goodness sake come on before there’s a riot! The whole mob is cheering for you!” The girls all laughed and leaving Hannah behind to lock up her costume and watch over the trunk, they quickly ushered Ms. Americana out into a cheering throng of thousands of loud chanting men!

Ms. Americana sputtered with chattering teeth as one of the young cheering busty dunk tank booth girls lead her away from the jubilant crowd surrounding the dunk tank. She had spent the last four hours being unceremoniously drenched time and again by an almost unerring target bell ringing smack of seemingly every tossed bean ball striking home on the little red target! So much for Ivana’s fixed game! She was soaked through having spent more time in the ice cold dunk tank water than out of it and now finally getting a respite from the constant gawking onslaught of male horny letches and several live coverage camera crews broadcasting her essentiality naked shivering body not only onto the enormous over head TV, but into every home this day in Delta City, the champion of crime fighting slinked away trying desperately to cover up her wet clinging t-shirted breasts with one gloved hand leaking water out of its wrist opening and the other equally squishing gloved hand trying feebly hide her bluntly visible thick patch of pubic hair squeezed between her modest thighs under the equally transparent soaked hot pants. It was hard to walk rapidly with a bent over clutched chest and a clutched at crotch with ones knees pressed together but Ms. Americana managed to waddle after the girl who acted as a prowl to part the increasingly out of control crowd of horny men!

Instead of a simple canvas tent the girl lead Ms. Americana up a wooden teetering step and into the back of a panel truck, a lot more secure feeling considering the sexually aroused throng loitering about. The girl pulled down the panel trucks back overhead door and then quickly helped Ms. Americana out of the soaked top and bottoms which tore into flimsy shreds and then left to go get Ms. Americana’s things with the admonishing instructions not to open the door to anyone but her, the scolding girl beamed a smile and raised the door slightly and slipped out under it banging it home.

Ms. Americana rubbed herself in the dim glow afforded by the panel trucks yellow plastic ceiling which let some small bit of weakened light through it. It would undoubtedly take the girl several minutes to reclaim her things from the tent strong box trunk. In the meantime, Ms. Americana took off her gloves and then her boots pouring the water out of them each before returning them to their place upon her body. Save for her boots, gloves, eye mask, choker, tiara, and ear rings, she was completely naked. Her top and bottoms were in the locked chest in the dressing tent, as well as her power belt which she hadn’t even noticed had been removed from her by the teenagers until she was stepping into the dunk tank booth. With out her belt she did not have her legendary power or force field and was a touch worrisome that she found herself huddled naked and stripped of them in the back of a U-Haul van. She rubbed her shoulders against the slight chill she still felt, even with the wet clothes having been removed. Maybe Hannah would deliver her costume to her? That thought sent a strong warm sensation through her body and Ms. Americana smiled and blushed at herself for having such thoughts!

Suddenly there was the loud creaking unmistakable sound of the drivers side door to the truck being opened and slammed shut. Ms. Americana shot erect in puzzled alarm. The engine grinded and turned over and the truck honked and lurched forward. Ms. Americana found herself struggling for purchase in the nearly empty van and staggering about trying to keep from being pitched off her sliding boot heels as the truck bounced across the uneven abandoned lot which had been turned into part of the street fair celebration.

Ms. Americana stifled an urge to yell out to the driver of her presence. The idea of the driver stopping suddenly and throwing open wide the back door to reveal her utterly naked to the throng of aroused men she knew where still all about her made her a touch uneasy, even though these were just men and not super villains she still did not trust even the average male libido, better to let the van take her away to some more discrete place and make good her own escape then. The truck did not travel far though, and quickly lurched to an abrupt brake squealing stop in what she could mentally work out was still well within the confines of the street fair. It had gone less than a few hundred feet and much of that had been in a zigzagging course. Evidently it had been quickly moved to make way for some other piece of equipment or else to bring it closer to whatever it had contained to be reloaded back up again?! Ms. Americana waited breathlessly for the driver who opened the drivers groaning door and slammed it shut, rocking the truck slightly in the process, to amble around to the back door and throw it open. She rushed to the over head door and bent over grabbing the inner strap to defend its opening from the out side, but it never came. Minutes passed and no one seemed intent upon opening up the back of the panel truck. Ms. American frowned. She couldn’t keep waiting here inside this truck. The image of a booth girl walking amongst the throng of jostling fair goers with her priceless belt held in her small hands sent a shiver of alarm through her! What if some man saw the belt and simply grabbed it!? Her secret technology in the wrong hands could bring ruin to the world! Not to mention the months it would take to reconstruct up a new belt! An increasingly agitated Ms. Americana began to worry herself into a frazzle. She couldn’t wait any longer! She had to leave this dusty prison!

The problem though was she wasn’t exactly keen on walking about a crowd of the general public in just her birthday suit! She would have to find some means to clothe herself before exiting the panel van. But with what? She carefully made a search of the square metal box surrounding her, it didn’t take long. As far as she could make out, the entire contents of the vehicle consisted of several tanks of helium gas canisters and a few long thin balloons that had obviously spilled out of a card board box containing many of the same. Ms. Americana made the mental connection at once that the truck had obviously been used to transport the equipment of the clown who was working at a station not far from the large outdoor TV screen or the dunk tank. It was near by to were she had taken several publicity photos with Mr. Phallus and the Mayor as well as several other dignitaries early in the day. She had spent some time observing the clown, who in full regalia of his craft, had spent much of his time making free balloon animals for those gathered around him. He had made many of what he called ‘wiener’ dogs, each balloon dog having a large penis between its small round hind legs that he would flick and call a ‘wiener’. She had naturally scowled at such a blatant sexual slur but all the women howled with laughter each time he made them one and with the little white piece of string tied carefully to each dogs ‘wiener’ the helium gas filled balloon creations could be seen bobbing and floating above the shoulders of candy cotton eating and laughing groups of women all over the fair grounds, so she had sensibly let it go. She didn’t want to seem like some ‘old maid’ after all!

Obviously this was the clowns truck in which he hauled his equipment to the fair in, she checked the tanks chained and paddle locked to the wall. Two were empty one was half full. She carefully picked up the random assortment of long pencil thin unused balloons off the floor and pushed them about the palm of her glove with her forefinger as she formulated a plan.

A man walked straight into a wire basket trash can and flipped inside it, that was the second man to walk into something while staring at her and that one there was the fourth to spill something on himself as she sauntered by, she found it slightly amusing to keep a running tally in her head. Ms. Americana held her chin high and strode purposefully through the parting crowd. The men seemed dazed in her wake, the old blue haired bitties gave her the stink eye, but all the other women cheered after her and the younger women wiggled their thumb rings at her and cried out; “awesome!!” Ms. Americana had gone only about half a street block through the milling throng before she found herself standing next to the clown making ‘wiener’ dog balloon animals and pausing to gather her directions before pushing on to try and locate the exact location of the tent that held her costume inside the large paddle locked storage trunk, or had, she seriously doubted it still contained her belt and costume as more than likely several dunk booth girls were wandering around with it in their hands looking for the truck she had just slipped out of, but it was a good place to start a search pattern and if the girls did find the truck they would surly double back to the tent with the reasoning that she would head straight there.

“Oh my Gawd! That’s so utterly hot!” A teenage girl had turned around from the small ring of young women watching the clown make his some what pornographic creations and was staring at her with utter aplomb! “That is so cool! Hey! Hey!” The girl was shouting and waving now back at the clown in an excited fever pitch, “I want a balloon bikini too!!” Every one turned to look at Ms. Americana who had solved her missing costume problem by filling several of the string balloons with helium and twisting them into a thong bikini. Yes the balloons were brightly colored but transparent, and yes the slim helium filled cylinders didn’t really leave much to the imagination, and yes she made a slight rubber rubbing sound when she walked, but the girl was right, it did look utterly ‘hot’! “I want a balloon bikini just like Ms. Americana’s!” Soon the entire throng of women were pushing toward the confused clown, all shouting loudly for their own balloon bikini’s! A young girl was handing her prize won stuff bear into the arms of what could have been her older sister and then thrusting her quickly shed polo shirt followed by her DD cup bra, “how much are they mommy?” The girl absently asked the woman who looked too young to have a teen age child.

“Well, dear I’m sure they couldn’t be less than a hundred dollars.” The clown blinked several times and glanced back at the simple white poster board sign which in large marker proudly stated: “Weiner Dogs for .50 Cents!”

“Mommy can I have two?!” The young teenager was shedding her panties now, her well trimmed small blonde patch matched her long pig tails a little ‘too’ exactly in corn silk color.

The mother chortled and handed the bear and garments to her chauffer, “we shall ‘both’ get two darling!” And she began removing her garments as well proudly revealing a curvaceous well kept figure. Soon the stuttering clown was surrounded by forty women in rapid stages of excited undress, he kept muttering, “a-hundred-dollars?” and then started pulling and snapping the string balloons stretching them into readiness.

“All for charity,” Ms. Americana raised a stern eyebrow and lowered her voice at the clown who was excitedly giving her creation a once over close study in order to duplicate it.

“All?!” The clown moaned at the super heroine.

“All, Beppo. And I will be back a little latter to help you escort it to the central cash box tent.” Ms. Americana pulled one perfectly spherical butt cheek aside so he could see how she had only inflated half of one of the balloons to cover the front of her precious opal jewel but left the other half un-inflated so it ran up underneath her and then up her back side as just a rubber strap before another expert twist held more helium and twisted into another balloon.

“Yes, madam.” The clown dejectedly whined and set to work on what now had to be the quick manufacturing of several hundred string balloon bikini’s for the excited growing nude horde of women eagerly pressing around him.

Ms. Americana left the busy moping clown and swam through the crowd her makeshift costume making squeaking noises against the occasional corduroy pant leg or leather hand bag. Once the backside of a large rotund man blocked her way and made no move to get out of her way despite her coughs into her gloved fist and several polite ‘excuse me’s’ he only glanced over his broad shoulder and sneered down at her and went back to talking to some of his buddies. Losing her patients with the wall of blubber she rapidly rubbed her balloon top over her enormous breasts and then as she felt her hair lift slightly off her crown, she reached out a finger and… “ZAP!” The man howled and danced out of the way rubbing the back side of his nut sack with tears in his eyes as a smirking Ms. Americana said ‘thank you’ and vanished on into the crowd.

She hadn’t gone much farther when suddenly Ms. Peters, the Mayor, and several police officers came running up to her shouting for her attention. Once they had caught up with her Ivana leaned in and whispered into Ms. Americana’s ear, “there’s been a bomb threat! They want all the money we’ve raised in the central cash tent or they will set off the bomb! In,” she glanced at her wrist watch, “less than ten minutes!”

Rex Phallus gingerly cinched up his belt which he had modified into a harness to help hold the large plastic bag of ice to his groin. He winced as he tugged it tight and angrily let his un-tucked shirt tails fall over his bulging wet pant front to try and help hide the uncomfortable makeshift contraption. Big tits had always been his kryptonite. A huge pair of udders just turned his normally rational firm well reasoned mind into palpable mush. All his life various women had found out his hidden uncontrollable obsession and used it increasingly against him, destroying his life, again and again. He just couldn’t help but obey the owner of a phenomenal set of titties! He hated himself for it, and he hated all women for it as well! Time and again he had escaped, moved out of state, started over from scratch only to find himself once more enslaved to a pair of exceptional sweater meat! And here it had happened again! Ivana knew he would do anything she wanted without question as long as she jiggled those yahoos! In front of him every now and then. She knew that just like every woman some how seemed to know his weakness, and they all quickly turned it against him to get everything they wanted and often all he had. But this time had been the worse, by far! Ivana and that Ms. Americana the Queen of tits herself! Had publicly humiliated him! Used their titty magical power on him and made him a laughing stock in front of scores of giggling women and there had been a TV crew, oh God! Had he been filmed? Broadcasted? It didn’t matter word was already circulating, his job as the Wade Board watch dog was over, (another hard won job lost by a pair of fucking tits!) there was no point in even returning to be further humiliated by them in turn.

Rex rubbed his eyes as he staggered around the empty gas station rest room with the dripping ice pack wedged between his legs. But he was through with running. Hell he couldn’t even hobble! He grinned at the lacerating pain shooting up through his groin with every wavering step. No, no more running away to hide and start over again. Not this time! He would make those big titted bitches pay! And pay a lot! He would get back everything and then some a hundred fold, he would make all fat titted whores whimper and pay!

But how?… How could he some how punish each and every woman who possessed large teats and make some money at it as well? After all, if he was to devote himself to these big titted whores so utterly, then he needed to make a living at it as well. Hmmmm. First he should start…small. Just work his way up to his masterpiece revenge on Ivana, Brenda, and the ultimate big tit goddess herself, Ms. Americana. But first he needed to just get back to his apartment and gather up some of his things and find a new place to lay low. Some where just outside of the city where Ivana couldn’t find him if she got the wild hair to do just that. He just needed to make sure he stayed away from any large busted women for a while, even just the hint of an erection would put him into excruciating pain! But Ivana had already bleed him dry of every penny he had. She even had him direct deposit his Wade payroll checks directly into one of her accounts! He wasn’t going to find a place to stay in the country without some ready cash .

Wait a minute! Just on the other side of the rest room door he had bolted behind him was an entire block of women and a cash tent full of money! Brenda and Ivana’s money! All he had to do was use his clever brains to design a way for all that money to get into his pocket. It wouldn’t be hard all these women were more breasts than brains! He looked over at his suit jacket and the radio transmitter each of the important event people had been issued and smiled. He limped moaning in pain over to his jacket and snatched up the walkie-talkie. He keyed the send button and cleared his throat-

“He must be some kind of electronic geniuses because he has managed to tap into our closed circuit radios and is broadcasting his demands to us over our own air ways.” Ivana panted excitedly as she jogged next to Ms. Americana as they all rushed to the cash tent. She glanced at the bouncing balloon bikini and raised an eyebrow, “love the new costume. It’s…festive. Blends right in.”

“Thanks. Now what did he call himself again?” Ms. Americana weaved her way through the crowd with full juggling strides!

“That’s right honey. You can call me, ‘the Booby Trap.’ It is too a name! Well, it’s a ‘proper noun’ now because I just made it so!” Rex keyed the mic off. Stupid arrogant bitch! I’m threatening to blow up twenty thousand people and she’s all about grammatical syntax! Of all the people to answer the bomb threat I have to get a part time librarian! What the hell is wrong with the name ‘Booby Trap’? It’s a great name for a mad bomber! Stupid bitch! Well, she had better have gotten those details right!

“There is no way we can evacuate this many people in…” Ivana glanced at her watch as they reached the cash tent, “eight minutes. And there is no telling if it’s a hoax or not. Our best bet is simply to comply and hand over the money like he said in the manner he stated and try and catch him up latter.”

“I reluctantly agree. We can’t jeopardize the well being of so many people on the slim chance it’s a bluff. And I think your suggestion that I make the delivery is indeed wise. I shall follow his instructions to the letter, and hope he slips up.” Ms. Americana took the large cash box from the two armed guards and tucked it under one of her arms.

“But are you sure you should do this? I mean, we haven’t found your belt yet or the rest of your costume?” The mayor bit his lower lip and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“I am a champion of justice, which is far more than a mere collection of her parts! I am, Ms. Americana! Now if you excuse me gentle men, I have a city to save!” And with that Ms. Americana bolted out of the cash tent with the strong box in her arms and the seconds ticking.

The directions were simple enough and Ms. Americana quickly left the block party proper and jiggled her way to the construction site a block over where she found the large storm grate and gingerly let the cash box drop through. It made a hollow splashing sound as she rose up from the grating and backed away. She waited a few seconds and then returned to the cash tent as the instructions had stated.

This sucked. It was already forty minutes past the time he had told them to make the money drop and still no sign of anyone. He stood on the toilet seat and peered across the street at the large trash dumpster from the relative security of the locked gas station rest room small wire mesh window lining the top of the wall. He couldn’t stay in here for ever! They must have called his bluff. A bluff this time! But next time he would have a ‘real’ plan! And then those big titted bitches would pay! He slowly lowered himself off the toilet and onto the more traction reliable tiled floor. Oh well, his first foray into the criminal world, a spontaneous venture which had come up ‘bust’. Ha! Next time! Next time! He unlocked the door and slinging his jacket over his shoulder he stepped out into a multitude of large busted women wearing nothing but balloon bikinis!!!! His eyes popped wide and his jaw dropped at all the acres of jiggling tit flesh and he screamed and clutched his crotch and falling to his knees rapidly crawled back into the gas station rest room with his face wracked in agony.

“He seems to have been an expert escape artiest.” The police chief was telling the mayor as Ms. Americana and Ivana listened with frowning continence. “I had every entrance and escape rout to that sewer covered and after waiting the thirty minutes we went in and all we found was this,” He pointed to the empty wet cash box.

“Amazing. I guess we had better take this ‘Booby Trap’ fellow more seriously from now on. I want him found and punished for this!” The mayor punched his age besotted fist into his open hand. The police nodded and left.

“At least there was no bomb,” Ivana whispered to Ms. Americana as the two moved farther apart from the small group of squawking males in the cash tent.

“This time,” the Queen of justice growled.

“Then you don’t think we have heard the last of this, ‘Booby Trap’ twit?” Ivana tapped her nose.

“Not hardly. He won’t quit until he fails or gets caught. I know his type.” Ms Americana folded her hands under her breasts. There was a distinct high pitched sound of air escaping and all the men turned to the superior woman who had her back to them and paused.

“Is anything the matter Ms. Americana?” the mayor asked.

“Err, no, no everything is just fine.” A balloon suddenly launched in loud farting sounds across the room followed by another and another and …

Ivana leaned against her sports car and eyed the gas station rest room across the street. The door remained stoutly locked and she smirked to think of Rex hiding in the stall toilet refusing to answer her cell phone calls. She had been fortunate to be the one who had answered his bomb threat call as the moron had left his walkie-talkie set to her frequency channel and she had recognized him instantly, but had never let on that she knew who he was. She had realized what a golden opportunity the little male idiot was giving her, and she had quickly used her own key given to her as Brenda Wades surrogate to empty the cash box before relaying the whole bomb threat to everyone else after changing several of the details and particulars of the pay off of course. Ms. Americana had dumped an already empty cash box down the sewer drain and poor old Rexy baby had watched that dumpster around the corner of the gas station for naught! HA! Well, she did like the several hundred thousand dollars now sitting in the dump tank lock box in the trunk of her car along with Ms. Americana’s belt and the rest of her super heroine suit. She would have to use those latter tidbits as bait to lure the super heroine into a real “Booby Trap” worthy of such a magnificent set of jugs! Tee-hee! And with a patsy like Rex to throw all suspicions on, why not have a little fun with this whole ‘booby trap’ persona? It could be one hell of a wild ride, and she liked wild rides, besides the going rate for a litter of super heroine milk was over a hundred grand and that fat titted Ms. Americana could make her very, very rich indeed! Not to mention all the other cow dug crime fighters of Delta City, why there was a whole herd of million dollar milk jugs just flying about the city skies. Huh, still best not to let Rexy in on the whole thing just yet. He would make a good store front, but she would remain the silent partner he never knew he had pulling all his strings for him and him never the wiser for it. Ivana smiled and walked around to the driver side of her sports car and blew a kiss over to the silent morose gas station, “night night baby!” And got into her car and roared off into the night! With Elvis blaring on the radio, “caught in a trap-can’t get out…”