The following is a work of fiction intended for adult entertainment. The copyrighted characters it contains are used with kind permission from Mr. X as in accordance with the stipulations of his great website. As always heartfelt thanks to ole X-y for the use for abuse of his wonderful creations and having the gritting teeth patients to allow such use, and may he continue creating his little masterpieces for many, many more years to come.

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MS. AMERICANA VERSUS THE RIFT MONSTERS

 

Ms. Americana paused just inside the doorway and surveyed the well lit room before her.  The place was a clutter of both elaborate and expensive lab machines and cobbled together half broken junk. Piles of cardboard boxes and plastic totes spilling over with odds and ends mingled with the piles of neatly folded clothing and leaning stacks of thick hard back books. “At least the place is clean,” the statuesque brunette bombshell thought to herself, as she stepped around some half opened cases of military weapons crates. “Well, relatively speaking… the floor looks well-scrubbed… what little I can see of it.”

“Ahhh, Ms. Americana! How good it is to see you! Just checking up on us, eh? Well as you can see we are still moving into our new abode.” The man-beast who had been sitting at a small cluttered card board table reading “Bleak House” closed the book keeping his place with one inserted thumb and stood up from his folding metal chair to great her with a wide fanged grin.

“It’s good to see you Brawny Beast.” Ms. Americana smiled and nearly broke out in a sweat trying not to stare at the enormous forearm thick flaccid penis that hung down well past the rippling muscled roan fur coated seven foot eight man-beast’s knees. Whenever the wall of muscle known as Brawny Beast ventured out into public he wore a trench coat and fedora and recently a special penis harness designed and sewn by Flag Girl to hide his massive manhood and its accompanying set of grapefruit sized testacies. However such garments were irritating and uncomfortable to the recently rescued from the Circus of Terror freak-show attraction, and whenever in privet or acquainted company the well-read almost scholarly gentlemanly loner preferred to walk around naked. Well, coated as he was with a thin purple hue of downy fur over his entire not-an-once-of-fat-anywhere body one couldn’t really call him ‘naked’. Is a horse or a donkey naked? And speaking of a horse! Whoa! Ms. Americana struggled to pull her wide eyed gaze off of the twitching flaccid penis slapping around the powerful calves of the man-beast. “You’d need a yard stick to measure that monster!!” The now lip biting super heroine thought to herself.

Fortunately Brawny Beast was as use to such stares at his manhood to the same degree that the super heroines of Delta City where use to being addressed to their breasts instead of their faces. He took no notice of the super heroine’s somewhat impolite now open mouth stare at his pulsating package and carried on the conversation as best as he could, considering it was now mostly one sided. “I greatly appreciate you and Flag Girl rescuing me from my cage at the Circus of Terror. That was most kind of you. I shall never forget it. You have my eternal thanks…. Er, perhaps you would like to say hello to the others?” Brawny Beast noted that all that Ms. Americana was managing to say sounded like; ‘hum-ah-nah-hum-ah-nah’ over and over again as splatters of drool dribbled off her open mouth twitching lower lip and pooled in her cleavage. “Ah, yes.” Brawny Beast gave up and placed his reading glasses back on his fury face and sat back down on his special chair. The seat of the chair had been roughly cut with a blowtorch, removing a large ‘U’-shaped section from the seat so as to accommodate his excessively large manhood and allow it to drape down upon the floor thus allowing him to sit in more comfort. The man-beast sighed deeply and went back to reading his book.

Ms. Americana let out a low groan as she watched the large python penis snake its way to the floor with an audible ‘thud’ under the now reading would be super hero as her knees clamped together for a brief second and a warm wet stain crept across the lower front of her patriotic hued panties. She roughly wiped her gauntlet glove back of her hand across her salivating mouth and cleared her throat. “Yes. I would like to see the others.” She moved past the ripped muscled Brawny Beast on shaky wobbly legs and congratulated herself on not giving in to the impulse to stare at that massive cock of his. Willpower is everything in being a superior woman and she smiled as she lightly traced a gloved finger over the broad ‘V’-shaped deltoids of the man-beast who went on ignoring her as she passed. Realizing he was so engrossed in his book she bent over rapidly as she swivel hip past him to catch a last glimpse of that extraordinary achievement of nature now slumbering under his chair. Only to promptly smack her head solidly into the quickly opening door in front of her. “OWE!” Ms. Americana howled and startled upright as she rubbed the top of her tiara crowned head.

“Oh my! Sorry Ms. Americana I did not realize you were standing there. My apologizes!” Ms. Americana opened one eye while still wincing shut the other to sourly gaze at Doctor No-No Brainer. A one-time super villain now reformed scientist who had joined this little band of misfits whom she was overseeing for the time being.

The doctor had his arms full and was trying to juggle the half spilled contents of papers and books that the sudden smacking and rebounding of the door off the top of her head had caused. “It’s all right Doctor. These things seem to happen quiet often around you. I am sadly getting accustomed to it,” Ms. Americana scowled at the befuddled doctor. She simply did not trust the man. It was undoubtedly this mistrust sensed by the doctor that kept him nervous and anxious in her presence and thus so prone to so many accidents and mishaps. “Well. Good! Let him be on his toes!” She huffed to herself.  Not only did she not trust the ‘good doctor’ but she openly wondered what a crazed genetic specialist could add to any would be crime busting team?! Brawny Beast she could understand. He had massive strength far exceeding even her own and had the unique ability to kinetically absorb any energy directed at him and then redirect it back out in his attacks. Being virtually invulnerable the harder you hit him the harder he could hit back! Now that was crime fighting in her book! AND he was a gentle man! Always opening doors and always looking her directly in her eyes when he talked to her! The true stuff of a super hero, he would make a great addition to any team! In fact she had considered asking him to join her fulltime in the Americana tower, if it were not for how all the other super heroines already based there so shamelessly stared at his… well, er, impressively large endowment. They just couldn’t seem to keep their eyes and surly their wonton hands off his umm, mutated side effect. And all those things he did to all those young girls back in his cage? Well! That was not HIS fault! The Circus of Terror forced him to do that. No idea why Green Spector distrusts him so??? Spector Girl seems to have forgiven him and often willingly says she would team up with him anytime anywhere on any case! Hmmmm, still too much of a distraction to allow him to set up shop inside the Americana Justice Tower… no better he stay here and help aid these lesser super hero wantabe’s .

But this Doctor No-No Brainier?! Humph! A Quack in her book! The mad man had abducted and performed numerous experiments on the genes of the young woman of Delta City for years! A twisted sadistic monster! She had been the one to finally bring him to justice! Those poor bumbling police had been helpless as usual, men! Er, of course she had accidentally knocked the doctor into his gene splicing machine just as the whole place blew up?! But he had survived and his vat monster had been destroyed and that was all that mattered. The machine had sort of messed up the doctor’s own genes (poetic justice there! Ha!) and in fact he was no longer a he at all! He had been turned into a rather busty and ravishing red headed woman. Apparently endowed with a large penis instead of a clit but otherwise all the normal plumbing that went along with being a woman. She couldn’t see it though, that is she still saw the scrawny meek maniacal mad man be-speckled scientist in the splattered stained lab coat who hired Captain Chloroform to keep him well stocked with slumbering helpless co-eds! Not the busty super model hottie everyone else seemed to see now?! Grrrrrr, even now she felt her fists clench at the sight of the man/woman before her.  And no it had nothing to do with the live broadcast of her being savagely raped by the ‘good doctor’s’ vat monster either! No, not one jot….. grrrrrrr.

The overly busty red head before her re-adjusted her glasses and gave a weak nervous smile as she tried to stutter an apology to the obviously fuming super heroine before her. “I-I- I’m so glad you stopped in to see us. You must tell Brenda Wade the next time you see her that this floor of this office building that she rented for us is most ideal. ‘Gulp.’ And the surroundings are most conductive for us to observe and assist in the preventing of criminal aspects. Why since the local gangs burnt down the small police station here there is something for us to do almost hourly, er once we finish moving in that is.”

“Are you growling?” Brawny Beast spoke from behind her and Ms. Americana straightened up out of her half crouch and lowered her raised fists.

“Just my stomach... I haven’t eaten all day.” The champion of might hissed at the quaking man/woman before her straddled stance.

“Well, help yourself to anything in the fridge. But mind the doctor’s petri dishes. Or you may have more than a queasy stomach to deal with.” Ms. Americana turned and smiled at the large hulking beast-man and he nodded and went back to reading his book. She pushed brusquely past the doctor and made her way down the hall towards the general direction of the kitchen, keeping her eyes out for anything out of the ordinary.  Through an open door she saw Jenny James, a young teen who now wore a large red ruby ring on her right index finger that covered her entire upper finger bone, from first knuckle to middle knuckle. The young girl could use the ring to turn herself into the JIN, a powerful magic user, a sort of genie. But the cursed ring could not be taken off and when she turned into the Jin she could not direct or control her powers by her own will. Instead she could only grant the wishes of whoever possessed the sister ruby. This was kept in the hands of the team’s nominal leader, Power Lass. Who in turn kept it safe in the valley of her respectable cleavage? This was for all intentional purposes, Power Lass’s team. Though since it had been Ms. Americana who had busted each and everyone one of these former super villain’s and it was Breda Wade who was footing the cost of their new ‘digs’ as they started out on a new path of fighting crime, she felt a powerful responsibility to keep tabs on the newly formed teams initial outings. 

She had no problem with Jin. That is, the young girl Jenny James like Brawny Beast had been more a tool of others evil than a willing proponent to the crimes they had helped to perpetrate, the ruby having fallen into the procession of a third rate thug who had then used the almost unlimited powers of the Jin to fulfill his disgusting lusty bidding. The girl herself had been most innocent. Still she did not trust magic, and its practitioners often made her uneasy. Jin more so than others in that once transformed she took on an invulnerable ghost like substance immune to any physical blows and that whole lack of self will in her Jin state was a bit queer. One only had to get his hands on the other gem shoved down Power Lass’s décolletage and wham-o! the Jin was now your worst enemy. And how many grubby hands had been down that valley of firm wobbling flesh?! Ms. Americana could only shudder and shake her raven tousled head.

Jenny wiggled her fingers in a friendly wave at Ms. Americana who smiled back at her and kept walking down the hallway. She already knew Power Lass was not here. In fact she had made it a point to wait until the short haired strawberry blonde well stacked super heroine was known to be away outside of Delta City before making her surprise inspection.

It was a small brown stone office building with only four floors, the top one being rented for the team, and as such the hallway terminated rapidly into the newly converted dining room and an open door off to the right lead directly into the small efficiency kitchen. There she found the last member of the novice team, Nocturne. A tall African-American woman in a blue and black and purple costume who had her cowl and thus mask and hood (all one piece) pushed back on her caped shoulders as she ate a sandwich. She looked up at Ms. Americana as she walked in and offered her the other sliced half of her snack to which the super heroine politely declined and made some small talk with the ravishing young woman. While Nocturne possessed all the outward signs of an Aphrodite super heroine, (the increased bust size housing the Aphrodite gene rich milk {the bigger the more powerful!}, the slim statuesque almost unnatural beauty, the razor sharp reflexes, etc.) she was in fact lacking in any super powers whatsoever. Her talents lay in her incredible stealth and second story abilities, in short a master thief who had once trained with non-other than Esme. Now a reformed criminal she was the eyes and ears of her team. Her street contacts and almost uncanny agility and master lock picking ability proved most handy in many a mission.

It was during the small talk that Nocturne (even Ms. Americana had no idea what her true name or back ground was?!) made mention of something one of her street contacts had recently told her. There seemed to be some strange going on’s at one of the large old mansions that lay at the fringe of Raptor Park. Nocturne had thought to see into it herself but Power Lass had laid absolute instructions that the team was not to venture forth on any missions or even patrol while she was away and that they were to use the down time to finish unpacking and setting up their new headquarters.

Ms. Americana vigorously nodded. It would indeed be unwise for the novice team to head out on what might prove to be a serious threat to the city without their team leader Power Lass at the helm. After tapping her finger against her lip for a second or two Ms. Americana asked Nocturne to tell her all she knew about the strange rumors concerning the old mansion and then to promise she would not venture forth or tell any of the other members of her inexperienced and prone to be rash team mates about this until Power Lass returned. This agreed Ms. Americana absently helped herself to the rest of the sandwich before her as she listened intently to the young woman’s somewhat sparse information.

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The house was one of the old mansions built back during the days when the pirates still ruled the city and it was made of stone with strong circling walls spiked in iron and a long unrepaired slated roof somewhat bowed in-between the high peaks. Ms. Americana stopped in the dark silent street under the midnight sky and put one hand on her jutting haughty hip as she gave the place a once over. There was little point in sneaking about or slipping in a window at least not yet. The house was habited, owned by a rich quiet business man in his late forties who made his money as many did through the many ports of the cities docks in the import and export trade. Not a ship owner or even a manufacturer but more a middle man handling the transport of merchandise for large corporations located in other cities that flowed their goods through Delta City on a ceaseless endless tide.

A few of the down stairs iron barred windows were yellow lit and the super heroine felt the best approach would be a face to face chat with the houses owner,  perhaps footed on some slight ruse of chasing a burglar and losing him in the neighborhood? The Queen of Justice smiled at herself and pleased with her cunning plan, pushed though the heavy iron gate that gave way on black thickly oiled hinges and made her way to the large front wooden door.

She had half played with the notion of bringing the new team along with her in her investigations; let them see how a REAL pro super heroine doses it! But it was one thing to stop in and take a peek at Power Lass’s team while she was away, but quite another to take the kids out under her own wing. That uppity mule headed strawberry blonde was a bit touchy of being a second string heroine in HER Delta City! Ha! “I bet that isn’t even her real hair color! And those tits of hers?! HA! It was rumored that they were double JJ cups?! More like little double DD cups blasted up with silicone! HA! And that spotlight beacon of hers?! Just before Brenda Wade had asked Power Lass to take on the responsibilities of heading the new super hero team, Power Lass had presented the police commissioner with a new spot light beacon to shine up into the night sky to summon her if needed. IT WAS TWO SPOTLIGHTS WELDED TOGETHER AND LOOKING ALL THE WORLD LIKE A PAIR OF GIANT TITS WHEN TURNED ON!!! What a tramp!” Ms. Americana whose little aside rant had started out in her head now finished with a growing agitated shout! She looked around her and saw a small stray dog looking at her curiously. “Well, what do you want bitch!” The dog yipped and scurried off. “Didn’t think so.”

The richly carved door was answered after some long moments requiring frequent pounding by a balding middle age man short and stocky who with somewhat taken back wide eye shock recovered and welcomed her in. He blustered his delight in getting to meet the one and only Ms. Americana in the much exposed flesh but did show some unease and concern when she whittled away on her little white lie about pursuing a thief to his very grounds if not door!

She asked if she could take a look around his house just to be safe and stopped him up short as he made to telephone for the police reminding him that was utterly unnecessary since she was now at hand. He seemed confused at first but reluctantly put down the phone receiver as she pulled him by his short dumpy arm into searching with her as she asked him off hand questions about himself and the house to keep them occupied as they checked it out room by room. She smiled so much that her teeth started to hurt and she wiggled and jiggled her buttocks and bosom so much and so hard that she thought they would fall off! But the man was now so thoroughly distracted by her ‘charms’ that he followed her around like a butt sniffing puppy dog his tongue all a wag with a steady dripping drool of information. Bedazzled he blurted out anything and everything as she made every effort to stop in front of him and bend low while shimmying her bottom from side to side like a hypnotist’s golden watch. Toss in some ‘accidental’ breast bumps into the short man’s face and he was rapidly reduced to little more than a tape recorded automaton who mechanically answered her every breathy smiling query without thought or awareness to his own words.

Sadly he seemed a fount of little but useless information. He too had noticed the unusual sounds and furtive shapes around his house and grounds but no amount of personal inquiry had turned up anything strange or surprising at all?! He had given over to convincing himself that it was nothing more than the settling of the house and since nothing had gone amiss had done his utmost to push it all from his mind. Besides his lodger had not heard a peep!

At this Ms. Americana perked up. She had been just at the moment of squeezing her enormous breasts together with her forearms and about to turn around to face her host at which she planned to pretend to set down the large book in her gloved hands on the small table between them. Using the downward friction of her arms to slip/pull down her top just enough to allow her patented sunrise nipple slip to shine out over her top’s lip and utterly wow/stun her unwitting interrogation pigeon. But this last mention of a boarder stopped her up short and she tossed the tomb back upon the shelf from which she had just plucked it up (knocking over and shattering upon the floor a priceless vase in the process) and spun upon the smiling fool.

“You say you have a renter? Where is he lodged? We have searched the entire house?” Ms. Americana frowned as the man openly stared at her excited heaving breasts and rolled her eyes at having perhaps done too good of a job in enticing her only lead. She repeated the question of the whereabouts of the lodger and sighing pushed back her shoulders and gently shook her breasts just inches from the drooling imbecile’s face as she now repeated it very slowly for a third time.

The sweating man’s face went from red to purple and she wondered absently if he was having a heart attack? But after a few sputtering and chest spackling guttural gasps he managed to form words despite his bulging eyes being glued to her quivering breasts. “B-B-Basement! He insisted upon taking up accommodations in the basement! No idea why?! I offered him the entire third floor but at that amount of money and with times being so hard I just let him have his way.”

“To the basement then!” Ms. Americana spun the little man around and smacked his ass to send him on his way as she followed firmly pushing his shoulder before her.

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The trip to the wooden door leading to the basement was not entirely without fruit. Ms. Americana with a few well-placed smacks on her giggling host’s ass managed to both guide him to the door quickly and reveal that his lodger was a somber man in his late thirties who required a quiet place to reside while he worked on his doctorate. Money did not seem a problem and he had turned out to be an ideal boarder scarcely seen and seldom heard.

At the door set half hidden under the elaborate if somewhat unkempt stair case, Ms. Americana disentangled herself from her companion and addressed him as one would a small child. “Now, Mister Copafeel, I want you to stay right here. I feel it would be best that I should speak with your new boarder alone.”

The short balding man still staring at her shuddering bosom could only stutter and anxiously bemoan, “but shouldn’t I introduce you? I mean, imagine his surprise at such unexpected firm and bouncy visitors.”

Ms. Americana firmly pushed the man away from her and noted the spreading stain upon his trousers front and resisted the urge to knee him in the disgustingly small erection he was sporting. Instead through gritting teeth she forced one last smile and spoke sternly, “I am sure I can manage. Now I want you to remain right here. Understood!”

The man feebly nodded and Ms. Americana forced him back with a shove causing him to spill haphazardly into a chair. “Good.” She sighed and turned to the small wooden plain door.

The door was locked but a straight shoulder popped the door free from its splintering jambs. Below her a simple bare stair case lead down past rough naked stone walls. She couldn’t see the room it opened straight into except for the narrow slit at the bottom of the stair case its self but she could see that the floor was of polished hardwood and that spoke of the basement at least in parts being furnished rather than in a more creepy cobweb unfinished state. “Probably a wine cellar?” She thought as she descended slowly and lightly down the stairs despite having just loudly shattered the door open a few seconds before. “Best to proceed with caution.”

Nocturne had not much to say. She had only heard persistent rumors about strange noises at night coming from the lonely mansions grounds which a breasted the huge over grown Raptor Park, and oft seen shapes skulking about and flittering away when one sought to focus upon them. Nothing really in a city so swamped with hardened criminals and super villains, but when one stopped to consider the recent disappearances of young coeds who attended Delta City University which sat on the other end of Raptor Park, all last seen entering the ominous congested wood. Well, then those hulking slithering shapes and strange shrieks and moans emanating from the Copafeel mansion suddenly took on a more sinister bent! Enough to at least warrant an investigation by some competent super heroine rather than the over taxed under brained male police force to slough through!

In this Ms. Americana had indeed agreed. It might be nothing of note, but it was still curious enough to invite a passing sniff or two and with the missing coeds to consider it was pressing enough not to wait for that big titted breast for brains Power Lass to return and have her crew of former thieves to mess up and muddle through. Nocturne had been right in confiding her suspicions to Ms. Americana which was slightly odd as it had been Ms. Americana who had captured the waif in one of her string of robberies?

Obviously the girl was trying to make amends for her troubled past and trying to form some kind of bond between herself and the Queen of Justice. Understandable. Everyone wanted to team up with her, the line formed around the block. She was after all the cities pre-emanate super heroine! And who wouldn’t want to shake loose from that freckled freak Power Ass! Ms. Americana remembered the time she had placed a large magnate under the podium where Power Lass was to get the key to the city, heehee, the pour thing had almost shook off the mayors arm in her wild fluxing uncontrollable strength! Ha! Of course that was to make up for the time they were both on the moon in Moon Base One answering a distress call and Power Lass had told Ms. Americana that one of the portable cameras was the microphone and she had spent the entire mission talking to Delta City Space Central into it and thus unwittingly beaming a full screen image of her heaving cleavage to every monitor in Mission Control for three days!!! Ohhhhh! The little tramp! Why were all flyers so obnoxious?! And why did they always wear skirts?! True Power Lass did not wear a skirt, but that one piece outfit of hers was even more outrageous! It seemed if she pulled up the top to half cover her always peeping out nips then her crotch camel toed so much you could see the shave bumps! And if she pulled the thong bit out of her puss then hello double rainbow over the mountains!! HA! Oh well. It seemed the two super heroines couldn’t meet without it becoming a contest to outdo the other in one-upmanship or pull some practical joke behind each other’s back.

In fact if it wasn’t for the missing coeds and the strange eerie sensation she had felt standing in front of the mansion on its dead end cul-de-sac, Ms. Americana would chalk this whole thing up to another one of Power Lass’s vain attempts of setting her up for another of her lame practical jokes, she was at her best count at least three behind the Brunet Buxom Brawler! But no, standing half way down the stair she had a distinct premonition of danger and a hint of dread. There was something definitely amiss here and she was set to find out what it was!

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With jaw firmly set the Matron of Massive Mammary took a deep breath and thrust out her chest canons whispering to herself half hissed, “Prepare to be boarded vile scum!”  And pushing any doubts aside made her way more boldly down the remaining flight of stairs.

The stair case was built out of quarter sawn oak planks and though roughhewn and undoubtedly over a century old they had turned to iron rather than splinters over the years so they carried her down with nary a squeak despite her somewhat boisterous gait. She hit the hardwood floor at her sojourns journey with a continuation of her firm if sensuous sinuous stride and found herself in a low lit room of stone walls and few furnishings. It held nothing to catch her immediate attention save for two doors set in the far wall. One was closed and nestled near a dark corner the other was closed but bright light flooded out from underneath its sill-less bottom. There was a half open transom over the back lit door and without breaking her strong stride the Champion of Chest Cannons whisked up the one of only two plain wooden chairs set in the center of the room around a small sparse round table upon which a low lit lamp glowed feebly, and set the chair before the door with the half open transom. “No point in peeping through key holes if you can get a better view through a windowed transom,” the Gauntleted G-cup Grappler grinned to herself. Despite the excitement of the hint of danger and adventure spurring her egger swelling confidence and itching impatience on, she set the chair down quietly before the door and took a moment to note the wine racks turned into book cases lining the stone walls. “A wine cellar! I was correct!” She couldn’t help a smug smile as she now stepped up on to the chair and inched herself up to the transom window.

The small rectangle window its self was filthy and so she could only see through the open crack at the bottom. The room into which she peered was quiet save for a steady murmur of a burning fire. It was this unseen fire obviously off to her left hidden with the greater portion of the room from which the bright over spill of illumination originated.

All she could initially make out was a larger room than the one in which she occupied but hidden of her view to her left. Straight in front of her was a stone floor with a stone wall a short distance before her, “A hallway of sorts?” She pursed her ruby lips and considered her options. As she did so she pushed on the transom to gain a further line of sight to her left. The transom squeaked horribly and she recoiled from the unexpected noise. “Hmmm, better to just open the door and have done with it. Surely anyone in that next room or hallway would have heard that squeal from the rusted hinges of the transom?”

She stepped off the chair and set it behind her and turned the door knob. It was locked?! She frowned and then slammed her shoulder into the door. Heavier than the upstairs door it never the less gave way with a splintered crunching gasp. “So much for the stealthy approach,” the Melon Missiled Maven of Might mocked in mirth. 

The collapsed door, the upper half severed of its hinge, ground back revealing indeed a stone hallway that led into the darkness to her right and an open door-less portal to her immediate left. She had to maneuver around the half obstructing door which now hung/leaned blocking most of the narrow stone hallway. It required an almost wriggling of her body to worm past it and into the open portal a few strides to her left.

The open door way was rimmed with thick slabs of wood and she stepped over this into the stone floored and walled room. The room was lit by a low fire crackling in an open faced wall niche with shallow chimney but no hearth. The room was littered with tables covered in glass chemistry tubes and beakers and bubbled away with oily smoke and noxious fumes. “A mad scientist lab! Or I am no purveyor of the late-late night monster movie madness! Well! Where is our raving nutter in a lab coat then?” The Nubile Nemeses of Ne’re-do-wells, scanned the room but it was a maze of tables and stacks of crates and squat stone pillars holding up the foundations above. Shadows everywhere and not a movement save the flickering light that cast tall whip like shadows about the dank air.

She ventured out into the room winding about the stuttered pathways crunching her boot heels on twilight ensconced debris, and bumping her well-turned thighs into half invisible shadow clad piles of boxes and piles of rusted junk. The small open coal fire gave little light to the far depths of the long rectangular room and she found herself squinting in the frowning growing darkness. “No light switch, no apparent electricity down here. Even that table lamp had been an old oil lamp in the first room.”  The Voluptuous Vixen of Vengeance stumbled her way into the increasing dark, now winding her way in half blind stabs, her out stretched gloved hand finding first the miter covered stone wall and then incredulously a strong iron bound stone door?! Her blind hands swam about in the darkness until they found a simple iron latch and with a combination of a shove and tug muscled it open. The ponderous door swung free into an even greater pit of darkness and an old musted decrepit air violently wreathed her as she involuntarily convulsed back against the seemingly tangling of unnatural night into her raven locks. There was no venturing further in such pitch blackness.

“The table lamp?! Of course!” The Knight of Knockers set out to return the way she came moving much faster as the light rushed to great her anxious feet and wide staring eyes. Again it was a squirming passage to get past the half collapsed door and realizing the further difficulty in attempting another such trespass with a glass oil lamp in one hand the former (in my salad days when all was green! HA!) Double DD Damsel grabbed the shambles of a door and with the shouting of a dozen mighty oaks trembling before the raw power of the storm, the remains shattered in her mighty grasp. She tossed the kindling away from the doorway and down the darkened hallway to her left as she entered the room and grabbed up the oil lamp. Its glow was dim but addressing the wick she soon found the flame brighter and more reassuring. Less reassuring was the low sloshing sound the lamps reservoir made as she swirled it in the palm of her hand. “Far from full… but not empty. Onwards.”

The Busty Bouncer of Baddies, made her way back through the splinters of the shattered door kicking a few more remains now to her right down the dark hallway before rapidly returning to the stone door she had previously opened.

She paused at the door and noted the fact that had the room been better lit and she had simply passed any eye over the stone wall into which the stone door had been set instead of a furtive grouping hand she would never have noticed the hidden door at all! So well matched was the stone of the door and its surrounding wall to the naked eye, but to the outstretched hand one could note its slight setting back in its almost invisible niche and the rough break at its well hidden seams.  The Ample Amazon of the American Way, took this as another sign of Fate being on her side and moved boldly down the dusty cobweb riddled irregular serpentine crawl of the descending stone stair.

The descent was a touch nerve wracking as the stair did not descend cleanly along linear lines but snapped back and forth with many blind turns and erratic treaded stairs making the trek both a strain upon the heightened senses and a jolting shock as one step fell further than its brethren at almost every other step.

“The air is foul, dank, and congested. This place has not seen a maid in quiet a long while I imagine?” The Ductile Daring Décolletage Defender, finally half stumbled onto an open floor at the stairs sudden stop. The monetary dancing light of the lamp cast wild shadows over the rough uneven floor. “A cave, surely.”  The stone walls of the stair well had given way rapidly to roughhewn bare rock so she had not been surprised to find the passage had spilled its self out into a natural defile or cave such as this one.

All in all, the descent had not been a long one, perhaps just two or three stories down but only in retrospect did this seem such a short journey. In its progress it had been exhausting on her excited nerves and Ms. Americana found herself pausing to catch her breath as she held the lamp above her, twisting her arm this way and that to get some bearing in the subterranean expanse.

The floor was apparently fractured in places and raw planks of wood had been laid somewhat haphazardly over these crevasses of various sizes. Her lamp seemed to be casting less and less light around her or maybe the darkness was somehow getting stronger?! But she stepped warily forward into the cave trying to fathom if the dim shadowy twisted shapes just outside the narrowing sphere of her lamps influence where outcroppings of rock or some man-made structures?

Suddenly her small hand lamp sputtered gutted and went out!!

Alone in silent darkness the mighty Ms. Americana gulped and muttered, “GREAT.”

A low voice erupted out of the darkness, “what’s a matter? Those huge headlights of yours not bright enough in this darkness?”

There was a loud ‘pop’ sound and slowly purple to white mercury industrial lamps lining the irregular rock ceiling above Ms. Americana came on. The slowly filtering light seemed to rise up out of the ground as it revealed a fog enshrouded cave of about a football field size in general width and length.  The lumps of shapes she had careened her swan like neck to make out just as her lamp had failed now slowly loomed up out of the mist to be nothing short then menacing black boxes of metal that  now with the lights seemed to turn on as well. Small blinking green dots of energy began to dance over the molted oddly crafted surfaces of the jumbled black machines.

As she ventured a step or two more toward the slowly awakening machines but she found herself suddenly stopped in her tracks by the unexpected appearance of a man in tweed pants and leather Beatle boots with a slap-dash tossed air to his tossed on white button shirt and his rumpled cardigan. “No lab coat.” She had to admit she was disappointed.

“You must be the mysterious lodger.” Ms. Americana strode forward one more lanky hip shaking strutting stride so she could more easily slip into her wide stance of imposing authority. Arms folded under her impressive breasts and head tilted forward in a scowl with shoulders thrown back and a hip cocked out to one side, there were many men who would just unravel from their proposed bluff at the mere sight of her thus and fall to their knees begging for mercy.

“Ah Ms. HairyCunt! So glad you could FINAILY manage to find the door and drag your fat half-naked ass down here!”

Ms. Americana blinked for a second and dropped her arms down to a fist on hip stance, more conducive to combat. “Well, apparently this was not one of those types of men,” she grudgingly muttered to herself.

The man walked not more than a wrestler throw from her checking machines and otherwise ignoring her until he spoke again just cutting off the witty rejoinder she had finally came up with. “Listen Jugs, I don’t like to be interrupted in my work and I don’t like standing around in the dark for nearly fifteen minutes while you figure out how to squeeze that fat ass of yours down the damn stairs!”

“Again with the fat ass?!” She growled to herself and struggled to keep her fists at her side.

“And from all that damn noise up above I am guessing you smacked those wreaking ball tits of yours into something no doubt expensive and broke it to worthless pieces, and all without a warrant or any kind of police authority!”

Oh that last bit hurt. She was always touchy when they tried to go all legal mumbo-jumbo on her (THIN! TINNY!) ass! She felt herself hesitate again with her mouth half open as the man still only half noting her pressed on with his checking of his machines. Which she now saw had the words ‘GEO-THERMAL MODUAL’ stenciled upon them. “Wait a minute?! Why had he turned off the lights when she had found the door? And how had he known it was her when she had entered his upstairs rooms?” She frowned at these thoughts and spoke rapidly before he could insult her further.  “Listen I am investigating a rash of disappearances.” (She had already momentarily forgotten about her pursuing a thief ruse.) “Young girls from the nearby college all disappearing in the woods behind this estate. Perhaps you can help me in this?” She gave her best ‘I know you know that I know that you know that…’smirking grin and leaned toward the man.

He stopped abruptly and looked at her with an utter lack of fear or concern, “I thought you were looking for a cat burglar?”

“And HOW do you know all of this?” Ms. Americana frowned at the man; he just wasn’t behaving properly at all!

“Cell phone. Ever seen one before?” The man held up his cellphone and then dropped it back into his cardigan pocket.

“Damn that Copafeel! The stool pigeon upstairs must have called this man as soon as she stepped down the first stair case!” She fumed at herself for a second and then noticed the man was utterly ignoring her again, still bent on his odd machines that continued to grow more animated with each passing moment. “Okay, let’s start again. How about telling me your name?”

“I thought you already knew? I am Copafeel. I own this house and its grounds.”

“Wha-? Hold on then who is that upstairs?” Ms. Americana couldn’t help jutting an angry finger up at the now well-lit ceiling of the cave.

“AH, well you see dear, I happen to be Mister Copafeel too.”

Ms. Americana spun around to see the short rotund man she had left upstairs now standing behind her with a small black pistol in his hands.

“Step brothers. Dad had several Mrs. Copafeels’ before he passed away. He preferred his wives rich, old, and sickly and his servants young, busty, and stupid.” The man in the cardigan shrugged.

“Well not so much passed away as disappeared really.” The rotund little man gestured up in the air with his hand gun.

“True. All of our experiments stem from his initial discoveries and research. I suppose early on there had been some notion of finding him or some such thing? Not now of course.” The man in the cardigan paused looking at his step brother and then back at her.

“What in the name of Liberty is going on here?!” An exasperated Ms. Americana shouted. She was usually wailing on something by now and all this confusing chatter was just making her head hurt and her fists feel useless.

“Well, I will show you,” the thin tall man said and he pulled a lever and the fronts of all the black machines slowly swung open their gullwing hidden doors, revealing a dozen naked coeds writhing in endless orgasms.

Ms. Americana’s jaw dropped. The young women were bound to the insides of the machines, one per machine, which were unmercifully relentlessly raping them! “This-this is monstrous!”

“No. It is regrettably necessary to open the rift. And a lot more efficient than all that chalk and candles mess let me tell you!” The cardigan man nodded his head and gave a light laugh. His half-brother nodded his head as well but his face was grim and tight lipped.

“Rift?! What rift? What are you blathering about? Why am I even talking to you two sick-o’s?! When I should be stomping on your flat brainless heads?!”

“Why the rift you are standing on my dear.” The short round man with the small gun said in a low voice.

Ms. Americana looked down between her splayed feet where the roughhewn planks of thick wood thrown loosely over a particularly large crack in the floor were suddenly starting to vibrate as she now also realized the yellow tinted fog in the room was emanating from under these planks. “Oh crap.”

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The floor exploded. That is the planks of wood she was standing on burst up into the air tossing her with them. She did have a slight bit of satisfaction in seeing out of the peripheral of her vision at least one of the heavy thick planks smack the tubby short man with the gun fully in the face but her in inability to avoid her descending plunge down into the spinning crevasse bellow her as she was tossed about like a rag doll made that jocund mirth fleeting at best.

Despite her best Olympic level gymnastics she could do little more than twist and pike her body so she would land on her feet, except there would be no ground for her feet to strike upon only a plunging abyss. She simply couldn’t maneuver her body close enough to the irregular lip of the now surprisingly large fissure in the cave floor to catch a hand hold she was doomed to plummet into its inky depths.

Ms. Americana braced herself for the lack of an impact and thus was utterly taken off guard when her feet struck solid ground right where the gapping black crack in the floor should have swallowed her?! The unexpected shock caused her ankles to buckle slightly and she collapsed down in a crouch with most of the wind knocked out of her and her teeth slammed so hard together that she felt as if she had bit her own head off!

“Wha-wha?!” Ms. Americana struggled against her dazed state and despite her mental urging for speed, her body recovered painfully slowly to the unexpected jolt. Precious seconds where lost as she weaved to her feet and pushed her raven locks out from her blinking face.

“I know it is confusing and I certainly don’t want you confused. In fact it is vital that you understand the situation very profoundly so as to better your chances for survival.” It was the thin man in the cardigan who was awkwardly trying to help up his step brother from off the cave floor. The short pudgy man’s face was bloody, probably a broken nose, and he waved his little hand pistol around in the air loosely before his dazed face.

Ms. Americana tried to move but the rift she was standing over seemed to have glued her feet and ankles in place. In fact her entire legs bellow her knee seemed frozen?! All around her was now a thick black fog that rose up to her knees but no further. She looked about dazed and struggled to pull her feet free from the inky black mire. The fog seemed brown at its edges so different from the white fog that had filled the cave before from this same hole in the ground?!

“Listen to me closely Ms. Americana; it is vital that you do exactly what I say. Don’t bother trying to move from the skin of the rift and no taking your boots off won’t work! You only have one chance!” The thin man had managed to drag his still somewhat dazed brother back to one of the black machines. This one was open like the others but contained no squirming squealing young hottie inside it. Instead of a slowly grinding slack jawed moaning coed oblivious to all with eyes rolled back locked at the apex of orgasm there were inside various key pads and monitors. With much agitation and grunts the thin man finally dropped his brother upon the slightly raised dials of the machine, which seemed now in reference to their bodies of an even more different design and size than the other black sarcophagi. He turned his back and the shell swung closed about the two men and his voice now continued in an odd metallic half whining sound of loud speakers scattered about the room echoing in the suddenly gathering dark?

“Can you still hear me? I want to make sure the connections are still sound? Just nod. Good. Now listen...” Suddenly a purple pentagram with nefarious strange neon sigils began to glow all around Ms. Americana, cast by laser projectors that had risen up out of the tops and backs of each humping breathy exclaiming coed’s machine.  “This is not how we planned this. We had intended to get you riled up and angry but we had wanted to explain everything to you first; have you fully understand the objectives before this point had arrived.” Strange lights began to leap about between the black machines. The large mushroom shaped mercury lights lining the cave’s ceiling seemed to have turned off? The cave was now filled with rapid flickering lights and the transposition of the white fog and the black which now wreathed all cast all in a deathly pall. Looking through the large thick glass canopy and back lit by white and yellow screens and dials inside his black shell of ribbed and etched metal the thin man, Copafeel continued speaking. “But sometimes the rift makes the move first, as it has now. So we will have to adjust our plans. It will still take it several minutes to fully bond to our dimension now that I have the stabilizing control glyphs in place. So we should have time for me to cover the basics, so listen!”

“Copafell, release me at once or else-“Ms. Americana snarled. The numbing cold seemed to be slowly moving up her legs.

“I said listen! Your life depends upon this as dose so much else. We brought you here. I mean look around you… we live on a dead end road with nothing but acres of heavy wood all around us. Who would come out here at night? We are now hundreds of feet below ground; encased in solid rock. How could the sounds of these girls be heard by anyone? You yourself came down those twisted narrow stairs. Just an inch or two above your head, and winding this way and that in sudden turns, your shoulders almost brushing the walls, how could these beasts get up that to the surface and through our house to wander about the gardens to be seen? No we created those rumors, all of them. And we passed them on to Bling-Bling, that strange girl who wears the words ‘bling’ spelled out in rings on each knuckle and uses them like brass knuckles when she fights.  A rather questionable individual lacking in any morals and sense of right or wrong who I understand makes her living as a freelance ‘collector’ for various gangs. We passed the rumors on to her along with a considerable amount of money and she, being one of Nocturnes ‘informants’ was told to pass them on to her. To be truthful we expected Power Lass, hence the large magnets, you were rather a surprise, but you will do, I think?”

“Copafeel free me now and I might put in a good word for you.” Ms. Americana couldn’t help but notice the growing dark, the increasingly agitated swirling of the fog, and now strange hulking shapes that seemed to flitter and vanish all around her.

“I’m afraid even if I wanted to, and I don’t, I couldn’t stop the process now. We brought you here to serve a purpose. To help us. You see this place was carved by hand centuries ago by practitioners of some lost art; they designed it to allow them access to the rift but to keep the creatures therein contained from walking abroad upon the surface of the Earth if they should fail. And over the generations so many have indeed failed. You see the rift opens upon another dimension of great wealth and power, but at its apex, its connection point between our world and its, well it has some gate keepers. Let’s just call them that, toll booth attendants as it were. When you open the rift or it pops open as it senses others nearby in the right conditions, the first thing that happens is out spills these nasty mall cops who want to do nasty things to anyone they find. Sort of inter-dimensional watch dogs, with mange and fleas! Ha!”

The shapes around Ms. Americana where no longer flickering in and out but where now remaining steady solid shadows lumbering in the bleary fog and dark. “Copafeel what exactly do you want?!”

“I thought that was obvious. What we want is for you to destroy the rift monster guardians so we can then open the rift proper and enter and exploit the riches it therein contains. Simple. It is, how you say? A smash and grab job. You do the smashing and then we do the grabbing. Understood.”

“And if I refuse?!” Ms. Americana was now frantically tugging at her frozen legs as the large hulking shapes began to draw closer to her, half emerging from the thickening fog in the process.

“Refuse?! Ha! Dear girl I don’t think you understand. As of right now you are the only thing these gate keepers can see and as such I think you will find you don’t have much choice. You will fight them. Though I am not certain you will beat them and survive, but if you perish they will return to their realm and we will have to find another champion upon whom to rely.”

“Well, you can’t expect me to fight with my feet stuck to the floor!” The strange neck-less gorilla like creatures had obviously seen her now and they were making a bee line to her from all sides.

“Too true. I will remove the damping damn field which was slowing the creatures arrival so we could have this lovely chat. I don’t think you have any more questions. It should have the effect of unstopping the rift and freeing you as well? Well. I hope so anyway. As I said this is not exactly to plan.”

There was a low buzz and the glowing purple counter clockwise rotating sigil’s around her changed shape and colors so now they were red and yellow and moved independently in circles around her now thankfully free body.

And just in time as one of the crystal embedded slimy skinned beasts slammed its fists into the spot where moments before the cartwheeling Queen of Justice had just been imprisoned.  There wasn’t much time to study her adversaries and the smoky gloom did not help. But she made out six of the hulking shapes lumbering after her. They seemed to have the basic outline shape of twelve foot tall mountain gorillas. That same humped back almost neck-less bull shoulder that rose above their small heads and long arms the size of pile drivers reaching to the floor. But here the similarities ended, for as she leapt from one creature to the next to strike and evade like a pinball machine steel ball, she noted that the front of each creature resembled a white belly ribbed barnacle covered whales. And that their mouths had the same bone grill of filtering baleen combs instead of proper teeth. Instead of eyes they seemed to have small crystals scattered over their wide splayed squashed faces and running in a ridge down their humped backs. At which point they stopped being eyes and became the spires of boney extrusions of defensive plates that rose up along their spines it was impossible to say. Their enormous tree trunk arms were ribbed as their bellies and terminated not in fingers by a shock of wheat like tendrils, these covered in tiny suckers with needles in their centers carried a poison that felt like a bee sting upon contact. They moved about not on legs but instead upon a series of clustered hard jointed crab like leg stalks, these extend along the spine both above and below the creature for several yards behind almost like a bristling tail. It allowed it to move with bursts of sudden skittering speed and flip its body around top to bottom or front to back almost in an instant.

The one thing Ms. Americana did not see was any huge penises?! This was a tremendous relief. She could not remember the last time she had gone into battle and not had either the man or monster she was facing whip out some often sadly questionable sized erection to slap playfully against her momentarily the defeated body before savagely raping her!

On the other hand, no penis meant no other option then these things wanting to kill her?! And that sent a queasy shiver through her sweating flexing body as she continued to doge and pummel each creature in rapid succession. At least when she was being raped it always allowed her to find a means to overcome her adversary and win the day! Males of any species were so easy to defeat like that! The penis goes hard and the brain goes soft! HA!

Her blows seemed to have effect against the creatures but their thick skin and thick layer of what must have been some kind of fat over their wall of stringy strong knotty muscle made the blows far from being lethal. The stone like spiny carapace growing down their extended backs was immune to all her kicks and punches. Trading blows with these creatures was not going to win the day. She had to think! Find some other way to defeat them!

She wished she understood more about all these laser projected occult diagrams being projected in the air. Obviously that had something to do with the creatures and the portal to their dimension. If she could somehow figure out how they worked??

The projections had turned from a flat circle directly over the portal to a sort of spinning globe of hundreds of different rotating circles of glyphs. The six shambling creatures now each had a rotating circle of symbols at their feet? as well. Glancing over to the small black metal box that contained the Copafeel brothers she could see now both brothers working franticly at various controls surrounding them. There was no punching her way in to that. Unless…

Ms. Americana suddenly turned her attention away from the monsters themselves and began attacking the laser projection emitters sitting on poles above each of the orgasm writhing coed’s machine.  With a grunting twisting snap each pole snapped off in her hand and soon she had all the laser projectors destroyed. She could almost hear the frustrated screams from the two brothers who pounded furiously at their capsules thick window. However, much to her disgruntled disappointment, the monsters did not vanish with the projected glyphs. In fact they seemed to grow more violent, faster, and they seemed to now be aware of all those little black machines which contained the helpless continuously climaxing young girls!

“Not good.” Ms. Americana bit her lip as she now spent her energies trying to draw the attention of the monsters from the loudly moaning and climax cursing girls who remained oblivious to all but their own rapture. Pounding madly at each creatures back they would turn to attack her but only for a short while before they would be drawn back to the madly humping wailing nubile vixens.

“I can never compete for the attention of these beasts against a dozen horny teen sluts!” Ms. Americana gasped feeling even her mighty reservoir of vitality draining.

“What’s a matter hon? At your ‘tits’ end?” The voice was gratingly familiar and Ms. Americana had just a moment to side step as a white blur shot past her and smashed into the closes monster!

“Great… Power Lass.” Ms. Americana growled as she jumped at the back of another rift beast as it had just placed its sucker claws at the firm watermelon sized tit of the tongue lolling glassy eyed beauty in the open cockpit of the machine before it. “Think we can keep this close to the chest and do this without flatting half the city? I mean, you know all about being flat chested, don’t cha ‘hon’?!”

Power Lass shot Ms. Americana a wicked sneer but kept smashing her fists into the rift monsters who crumbled back against her planet crushing blows. After a dozen blows and pieces of the creatures raining down around them Power Lass shouted out, “we can’t just keep hammering away at these things. They are like mindless tanks! We are hurting them but they are not dropping! It is only a matter of time before one of them latches onto one of these poor exposed girls! Ugh! And these electromagnets aren’t helping!”

“Agreed!” This was not the time for feuding both her and Power Lass where beginning to tire. It was one thing to defeat such beasts in combat but to have to race around the room to each scattered open black box to pull some beast off one of the sex dazed women was simply too taxing even with their super powers! The Pugilist of Patriotism began yanking the power supply cords from the humming electromagnets scattered about the room. She could see that Power Lass was gaining more control over her powers with them being silenced.  But with each passing second since the laser emitters had been destroyed Ms. Americana could note the increasing speed and power of the rift monsters. Even now they seemed to smolder in the dark fog as if burning from some cold fire. Just getting close to them to fight them made one feel suddenly numb and tired as if one had been wandering alone and naked in a blizzard across the arctic trackless tundra for hours on end.

One of the monsters had taken a liking of the Copafeel brothers unique command pod and was pounding it into a bent soup can much to the apparent shrieking boys horror. Things were getting critical.

“If only I had brought my team! Wait! Jin!” Power Lass swooped up near the ceiling and dug out the rather banana shaped ruby from her cleavage and began to rub it against her nipple?! “Jin, Jin I summon you now!”  A greenish glow began to form in the center of the room, but just then one of the creatures swung its tail and smacked the gem from Power Lass’s hand. Ms. Americana raced to pick it up. The green light had died away. Swallowing hard the Princess of Power began to rub the ruby against her nipple and intone, “Jin, Jin, I summon you now!” the green glow returned and Ms. Americana managed a one handed cartwheel away from another lunging beast while still clasping the gem to her breast.

A few more summersaults and the Crowned Crusader saw the ghost like Jin floating above her head. ‘What is your bidding master?” The voice was like someone shouting down a long brass tube and the girls eyes where all white without pupils.

“Jin I wish these creatures to be sent back to their own dimension and the rift closed behind them. “ It was taking a bit of concentration against a swimming head and wobbly knees to focus on Jin, as summoning her had caused Ms. Americana to have, what on the street is crudely known as a ‘tit-gasm’. Only an Aphrodite super heroine could have one of these ‘tit-gasms’ and they were not something to be taken lightly. The bigger the breast size the more powerful the tit-gasm. The tit-gasm was much like a normal powerful orgasm, save that unlike an orgasm which left a super heroine momentarily dazed, confused, and weakened of her powers; the tit-gasm left the super heroine momentarily helplessly horny! For a few brief seconds or minutes, depending on the intensity of the tit-gasm the super heroine was rendered a mindless sex crazed lusting raping beast! No nearby man was safe! Super heroines had been known to strip a man naked in a second and render him hors-de-combat in under a minute. Leaving him only fit for a long protected hospital stay as they tried to ice down his friction blistered penis and suck his nuts back down out of his body cavity! A true public relations nightmare and thus one of the most dreaded occupational hazards for the busty Aphrodite super heroine to bite her lip in apprehension over. Luckily the summoning tit-gasm that was the price paid for using the ruby (YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW WHAT A MALE HAD TO UNDERGO!!!!) was of a very slight nature and other than some wobbly knees and some leaking spurts of milk from her already exposed and battle hardened nipples, Ms. Americana’s long years of sexual abstinence to power her belt and the willpower that entailed, allowed her to maintain her control and keep her mind focused despite her slurred words and sailor on leave stagger. Though she had to initially struggle to suppress the urge to order Jin to summon the entire NFL players butt naked before her, but it was only a fleeting urge.  “Yes, er, those creatures back to their own dimension and close the rift behind them!” She shouted it a second time as she remembered that was how it was done; you had to say the wish twice almost word for word, sort of like trying to log on STEAM or something! Always a pain in the ass using magic!

“As you wish master.” The wisp of a girl moved her snake like ethereal arms and the original pentagram returned along with a sudden swirling vortex in its center drawing all toward it.

“Hang on to something!” Power Lass screamed above the roaring tornado.

Inch by scrambling inch the rift monsters were pulled back to the center of the pentagram where one by one they were pinned into an ever growing pile until the last was sucked in and they vanished in a shuddering unearthly scream. The lights above them popped back on and slowly the cave filled with bright light as the fog sank into the hallows of the floor. The pentagram was gone and the strange rift was now once again a long unfathomably deep gashing crack in the floor of the cave that fell away apparently forever.

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“I will take these two to the local police,” Power Lass held the two Copafeel brothers by the scruff of their necks as she floated a few feet off the floor of the cave.

“And I will take these young girls to the emergency room of the hospital.” Ms. Americana nodded with hands on hips.

“Ekhem.” Power Lass held out her gloved free hand and Ms. Americana reluctantly pulled the ruby out of her tops cleavage and slapped it into the outstretched wiggling finger hand. “Thank you,” Power Lass chimed flashing her toothpaste commercial smile and wrinkling her freckled nose as she wiggled the ruby with balloon-like squeaky noises down what Ms. Americana had to grudgingly admit to herself was the firm valley of some very impressive massive tits!

“Well I think we have demolished or destroyed just about every piece of equipment down her during the fight. So I guess our job here is done.” Ms. Americana surveyed the piles of utter destruction and the huddled together weak kneed still open mouth drooling droopy lidded girls clustered together with scraps of cloth thrown over their otherwise still naked dripping bodies.

Power Lass laughed and gave a small salute and whisked out of the room and disappeared up the narrow stair case. In her wake you could hear the smacking of the two helpless, wrists wrapped in metal scraps, Copafeel brothers careening off the rough stone staircase walls and whelping in pain.

“Alright girls lets go,” the Lioness of Liberty motioned them toward the stairs. “Power Lass said that she had been contacted by Nocturne shortly after I left her and that she in turn had told Nocturne to call the police. So I imagine that the boys in blue taxi service should be arriving about the time we make it to the front door…as usual.” Ms. Americana carefully guided the small huddled group of twitching teens around the pit in the floor and to the stair case. Suddenly one of the girls threw back her head and screamed. In just a moment all the girls were screaming and racing pell-mell out of the cave and up the stairs. Leaving a befuddled Ms. Americana alone in their wake, “Wha-?!”

Ms. Americana quizzically looked behind her. Rising up out of the rift was several giant tentacles! In a flash they had latched on to the now franticly squirming Star Spangled Savior and held her fast above the well of darkness. “UGH! Wait for it… wait for it…” slowly an unmistakable shape rose slowly up from the shadowy depths. “I KNEW IT! A giant penis! GRRRR! Why can’t I just once go through a mission without being raped by some giant penis?!”

A voice whispered out from the darkness of the yawning chasm beneath her straddled legs, “Because your wish is my command.”

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