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Jailbreak (Call Me Americana #3)

by Sigma

I

“What is it?” Brenda asked, picking up the curved, gold metal and looking it over. It has a large red “A” in the center with a blue star on either side.

“It’s a tiara,” Professor Werder explained. He, Brenda, and Freya were all in the professor’s lab, a cavernous, out-of-the-way space where his various inventions and experiments were spread about. “It’s part of your costume. Try it on.”

Brenda did what he said and fit it to her forehead.

“Built into this device is a sort of flashbang meant to blind anyone who tries to remove your mask. I’m working on a memory nullification emitter, but that is not yet ready,” he explained. “It also blurs your face for cameras, making you hard to identify.”

“Huh…” Brenda said.

“When you told me the story of your encounter with Ms. Electra Nova, I was amazed she and her fans did not try to unmask you. This will come in handy should you end up in another situation like that,” Professor Werder told her.

As he went over that, Freya watched an INN report on TV and turned up the volume. Mayor Ortega was on the TV in front of Delta City Prison, talking about a new rehabilitation program.

“Oh, I’m afraid there’s no helping some of the men in that prison,” Professor Werder said.

“What do you mean?” Brenda asked.

“There is one inmate, Andrei Pervonovich…” he began.

Freya looked at him in surprise. “Pervonovich is in there?”

“Indeed.”

“Who is that?” Brenda asked.

“He is an extremely brilliant geneticist, but he has absolutely no ethics or morals to speak of. If he can hypothesize it, he will try to make it reality,” Werder said. “Some of the experiments he conducted…He is a blight on the scientific community.”

“He basically wrote the book of creating mutants,” Freya said. “The kind that attack and impregnate women. When I worked for the FBI’s super-criminal office, we kept tabs on him. We had a nickname for him because of his work – Professor Pervo.” She sighed. “Werder is right. There’s no helping a monster like that.”

*

In the yard at Delta City Prison, Razor, leader of the Renegades street gang, finished his latest set, bench pressing over 300 pounds. He racked the weights and sat up, looking around the yard. He was alone inside. None of the other Renegades who were arrested were sent to Delta City Prison. He’d heard Ruby Rotten was in the women’s prison on the other side of town – and members of The Chosen, a biker gang and rivals of the Renegades, had gloated to Razor that their female members in the women’s prison were making Ruby their plaything.

She was the only Renegade inside with at least eight of the Chosen. He had no idea about Joyboy, Sticks or any of the others. He looked in the distance and saw Mayor Ortega giving some press conference and cursed the bitch, having heard a rumor that she sent pulled some strings and had Sticks sent to some frozen shithole in Alaska, since he was the one who raped her. He thought back to that night at the museum. It had been over 3 months now, and he continued stewing in his anger, determined to get out and get back at the bitch in the bikini.

“Good morning, Razor,” a voice said.

He turned to see the portly Professor Pervo standing over him.

“Yo, Prof. What’s up?”

Pervo sat down on the weight bench next to him. He was middle aged, with a long scar under his right eye. He adjusted his glasses and smiled. “How would you like to get out of here, son? Today.”

“I’m listening,” Razor said to him.

“Ah, wonderful,” Pervo said before getting up. “Come.”

The two of them walked back inside and Pervo led him through the halls of the prison. “I’m sure by now you’ve heard the rumors about me.”

“That you experiment on inmates?” Razor asked. “Yeah. They said you have some of the guards in on it.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny the second part, my boy, but the first part is very true indeed. I have been working on a new formula that alters one’s genetic makeup, makes them stronger, more capable. Some have died, but that is the price of progress.”

They walked to Pervo’s cell, a space with double bunk beds, but every surface save for one bed was covered in books and papers. Pervo opened a book to reveal it’d been hollowed out. He took a vial and offered it to Razor. “This is latest version and it is perfect.”

Razor took it and, without hesitation, drank it. “I don’t feel any...UGH!” He staggered back, clutching at his chest. His veins bulged and his muscles swelled. “WOO! Holy shit, prof!” Razor said, grinning. “That’s good shit!”

“Glad to hear it, son. But we still need to field test it.”

Razor nodded and looked outside the cell. Across the cell block, he saw a small group of men talking. They were members of The Chosen. “Those assholes,” Razor pointed. “They jumped me when I first got in here.”

“Go forth and exact vengeance, my boy.”

Razor grinned and ran off. There was shouting, there was the sounds of punches landing and bones breaking. There was more yelling as the cell block devolved into chaos. As the alarm started going off, Razor walked back to Pervo. Flecks of blood covered his sculpted, naked torso and blood dripped from both of his fists as a maniacal grin crossed his face. “Please tell me you’ve got more.”

“So much more, son,” Pervo said with a smile.

II

Brenda sighed and put her pen down after signing her signature yet again. She added the paper in front of her to the growing pile to her right. To her left was an even bigger pile of unsigned papers. She let out an even bigger sigh and put her head down on the desk.

“Freya…”

Freya was on the other side of Brenda’s home office, dusting shelves when Brenda called out to her. “Yes, my dear?”

“If I have to sign another document, I’m going to freak out.”

Freya looked over at her. “You are a major shareholder of the company. This is part of your job.”

“Can’t I just make Anna do it?”

“She’s already signed her share of them,” Freya explained.

“Uggghh….”

Freya smiled at the girl and then turned to the TV, which was on mute. There was a report from INN, still following Mayor Ortega as someone from the prison staff took her around Delta City Prison on a tour. Freya didn’t think much of it until she noticed the camera shake out of the corner of her eye. She then looked at the TV. “What…?” She turned on the volume and screams instantly filled the room.

Brenda looked up when she heard and she and Freya watched as guards yelled in panic and prison staff were a confused, unorganized mob. Security men in suits quickly ushered Mayor Ortega away from whatever the danger was and Brenda got up and walked toward the TV, stopping next to Freya. Moments later, inmates flooded in and began attacking the guards.

“...Go suit up,” Freya told Brenda, who quickly ran off.

*

Eagle-1, a supersonic-speed, two-seat aircraft, flew over Delta City Prison and came to a stop. Below, the yard was in chaos and pillars of smoke poured from windows. Police had the building surrounded but seemed hesitant to go in.

“Mayor Ortega is safe and away from the prison,” Freya said over the radio to Americana. “There are still staff inside, however.”

“Do we know who’s behind this?” Americana asked

“Not yet,” Freya answered. “Are you ready to make an impression?”

“Let’s do it,” Americana said, smirking. She unstrapped her belts that coiled her womanly curves tight and kept her in the seat. She opened the canopy and jumped out, falling several dozen feet and landing in a crouch in the yard, among rioting inmates. Everyone froze and looked at her as Eagle-1 took off.

Several dozen men all eyed the busty young heroine hungrily and they turned their attention away from each other, every last one of them focused on her as they surrounded her on all sides.

Americana raised her fists and looked around, counting 20 inmates. They charged and she began throwing punches.

Pervo stood in a window overlooking the yard and saw the first few men go down. “So it begins…”

*

The door to the interior of the prison flew off its hinges as an inmate crashed though. Americana entered, taking a moment to catch her breath. There were unconscious and injured prisoners in her wake, and the busty heroine looked ahead to see even more inmates. The room was absolutely destroyed and prison guards lay knocked out cold among the inmates, who all turned to looked at her.

Americana counted a dozen on the ground, but looked at the upper level of the cell block and counted 15 more. “Shit…” she uttered as they began converging on her. She charged toward the men on the floor as the men on the upper level came screaming down the stairs.

Several of the inmates went down in a flurry of punches. The heroine grabbed a man by his arm and swung him over her shoulder, throwing him into several others. She staggered when on inmate smashed a chair across her back, turned and hit him with an uppercut. She then grabbed what was left of the chair and swung in a circle, seeing that she was surrounded on all sides.

The inmates hesitated as Americana tried to quickly come up with her next move. She looked toward an exit door and came up with a plan to run for it and funnel them through, making them easier to manage. Another inmate got bold and charged and she put him down by hitting him with the chair.

She made a run for it, knocking several of the inmates away and then slid to a stop when a hulking figure jumped down from the upper levels and blocked her path to her escape.

Americana gasped and looked up. “Razor?!”

He was a giant, with slabs of unnatural muscle. He smirked and looked down at her. “Fancy meeting you here,” the gang leader said as he leveled the heroine with a powerful punch. The inmates cleared out and Americana tumbled across the floor.

She tried to get up, only to be forced back down when Razor leapt through the air and stomped down on her back. Razor stepped back and Americana got to her hands and knees, looking around to see the inmates all surrounding her. Before she could plot another escape, she gasped as Razor grabbed her by her hair and lifted her off the ground. She punched him in the face and made his head snap back. Razor smirked and licked the trickle of blood running down his jaw. He then punched the heroine hard in her jaw, knocking the wind from her body before throwing her across the room and into the wall.

The other inmates stood back and watch as Razor approached Americana. Americana got back to her feet, growling.

“What the hell happened to you?” Americana asked.

“New and improved, baby girl!” Razor said, stretching out his long arms. “In every way that counts!”

Americana watched him approach and noticed a massive bulge in his pants.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” Razor said. “You and I are going to have a rematch. You win, this all stops,” he said, motioning to the inmates. “I win, me and my friends here...well...you know,” he grinned.

The heroine looked around and saw them all eyeing her with lust in their eyes and boners in their pants. She then turned her gaze back to Razor, who started running at her. She ran to meet him and jumped at the last second, driving both knees into his face. He went down and she rolled to her feet. Before Razor could get up, Americana jumped on his back and locked in a sleeper hold. He spun around, flinging her off of him. Americana tumbled across the ground and immediately got back up, only for another inmate to put her in a chokehold. She elbowed him hard, knocking him back, but another one grabbed her arm when she went for another punch. She kicked him away and saw the others were getting bold.

Razor charged forward and ran into her, knocking her back again and into the bars of one of the prison cells. Razor slammed into her again, making her slump over, and he grabbed her by her hair and lifted the stunned heroine up. She found a surge of energy and jammed her thumbs in his eyes, making him yell and let her go. She ran forward, kicking him hard with a flying kick. The inmates cleared away as Razor staggered back and Americana hit him with more punches. She then hit him with an uppercut that put him on his back.

The stunned inmates backed away when she glared at them, and then she looked at Razor, who got up to one knee.

“You little bitch…” he growled. He went in his pants pocket and took out a syringe and jammed it in his neck. He grunted, his muscles bulged, and Razor gained more size as he stood back up. He approached Americana, who gasped and backed away. Razor approached her and gave her a hard backhand.

She fell to the ground and Razor kicked her hard enough to send her flying back into the cell bars. Americana fell to her hands and knees, her body wracked with pain and her head spinning.

Razor grinned and turned to an unconscious guard and pointed. “Bring me his cuffs.”

Moments later, Americana felt Razor grab her her left wrist and slap cold metal around it. He locked the other end around the bars of the cell and American pulled at it, trying to break free. The inmates all gathered in front of her, eyeing her hungrily, and her baby blue eyes went wide with panic.

“She’s all yours, boys!” Razor told them.

“No!” she screamed, throwing punches and kicks to keep them at bay when they approached. She gave a strong, desperate pull and felt the bar give somewhat, but the inmates surged and were on her. Hands were all over her, pulling at her costume to get at what was underneath. One inmate got in the cell and reached between the bars, wrapping his forearm around her neck. When she tried to kick one man, he grabbed her leg to keep it immobile. Her bikini top got ripped off, and her bottoms got taken off soon after.

Two more inmates took her boots and the young heroine gagged as she felt someone sucking on the toes of her left foot. Rough hands grabbed the meaty flesh of her tits and she felt more hands squeezing her ass and thighs. She saw hungry, lustful faces staring back at her. Her free arm was restrained and they grabbed both her legs to lift her bare feet off the ground and let her slide down. She felt hands grab her hips from behind as someone lay on the ground underneath. A stiff cock probed at the meat of her bare ass.

“Hang on, let me get it in!” the man laying on the ground said to the others. He parted her ass cheeks and the others watched and lowered the captive heroine.

“No!” she protested. She then let out a cry as the cock slid gingerly into her spread asshole. “Ahhhh!”

The man on the floor pumped her ass and she looked around in a panic as other inmates lowered their pants and began jerking themselves over her exposed body, while hands continued grabbing and squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples.

Another inmate positioned between her legs and slid into her pussy. He gripped her hips, thrusting deep, and Americana gasped as she was double penetrated, only for a third inmate to straddle her face and forced his cock down her mouth. He gripped the sides of her head for better leverage, forcing himself down until her face was buried in the skin of his pubic mound. She gagged and choked on his cock, letting out muffled moans while the other two inmates continued stuffing her.

Through it all, the heroine yanked at the bar she was handcuffed to. There was some give, but the gang fucking she was being subjected to was sapping her strength. While the inmates made her holes theirs, she felt a warm mouth on her right tit, and cried out with a cock still in her mouth when whoever was doing it bit down on her nipple. Then she felt the man riding her face stiffen up and shudder, and moments later his warm seed flooded her mouth and throat.

He pulled out, laughing, and finished draining what was left in his balls on the heroine’s stunned face before stepping back to the cheers of his fellow inmates. She spit out his cum, only for another inmate to drop his pants and take his turn with the young heroine’s mouth.

She continued crying out, trying to break the bar she was handcuffed to. She couldn’t even swing her other arm because someone else was holding it in place, and as the penetration continued, she felt the other two inmates cum in her ass and pussy at the same time.

“NOOO!” she cried out, her mouth still stuffed. The man in her ass lifted her up and pulled out before rolling away, but the man between her legs stayed hard and pumped her a few more times, even as his juices spilled out.

To make things worse, she could feel herself coming close to orgasm, the sensations of being double stuffed, touched all over, and at the mercy of the inmates causing her body to betray her. A few more pumps in her pussy, and Americana’s body convulsed as she felt herself orgasm.

Her heart raced, her thighs and tits quivered. She let out another cry and the inmates cheered when they realized what happened. The inmates abusing her pulled out and stepped away, and she lay there, cum-soaked and drenched in her own sweat, as her head swam and her thoughts raced.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Pervo asked, walking up next to Razor as they watched the whole thing.

“Ha, beaten and bitch-tamed,” Razor taunted.

“Indeed,” Pervo said with a smile while adjusting his glasses. “Still, all good things must end, my boy. It’s time for us to take our leave before the authorities begin retaking this place.”

“You got more of that juice for me, prof?” Razor asked.

“Son, help me secure my exit and you will never got without it again.”

“Deal,” Razor said. He and Pervo shook hands and Pervo smiled.

“Before we leave, however...there is something I want to do…” Pervo said.

Americana looked up weakly, seeing the inmates standing around her, new faces with stiff cocks in their hands and grins on their faces. She whimpered helplessly as they stroked themselves and, several moments later, coated here in their own semen, mocking the captive heroine as they did.

Americana just lay there, unsure what to do as she clenched her fist and gave the bar another pull. She felt it give again, but wondered how she was going to get away.

“One side, gentlemen…” Pervo said. He approached the downed heroine. “I have always wanted to do something like this.” He knelt down. “It’s time for us to find out who is under that mask.”

“No!” Americana screamed. In her panic, the bar bent.

Pervo smiled, squeezing her cum-soaked tit with one hand while grabbing her mask with the other. Razor and the other inmates surrounded her, waiting in anticipation.

Americana braced herself and closed her eyes, knowing her life was likely over at this point. She felt Pervo tug at her mask. Then he pulled away. There were shouts and cursing among the inmates.

“Damnation! It was booby trapped!” Pervo said.

“What the fuck was that flash?!” Razor screamed. “I can’t fucking see!”

Americana suddenly remembered the tiara Professor Werder gave her that morning, and she opened her eyes to see them all staggering blindly. Hope brought renewed strength, and with a yell, she got to her bare feet and yanked her wrist hard, pulling the bar out and freeing herself. She then took off for the first exit she saw.

“Ugh!” Razor growled. His vision cleared just enough to see a large, shapely white ass running past him as he watched the heroine flee the cell block. “No you don’t, cunt!” he raged while chasing her.

Americana looked over her shoulder and kept running before barging through the doors, into another part of the prison.

*

The chase went on for several long seconds, with Razor unable to catch the heroine. As she ran, she saw armed and armored riot police armed with a beanbag guns, shields, and batons taking back the prison. Prisoners who didn’t surrender were beaten or shot with the riot guns. The prison was still in such chaos that few noticed Americana and Razor as they ran past.

They ran through a now abandoned cell block, and Americana vaulted over a table while making her way toward another door. She was trying to figure out how to stop Razor.

Razor ran past the table and scooped it up before flinging it like a disk. It hit Americana square in the back and launched her into the wall. The heroine grunted and crumbled to the floor, groaning as Razor stopped and stood over her. His breathing was ragged and he clutched his muscular chest while his forehead was beaded with sweat.

“Bitch…” He spat. He put a hand on her neck and pinned her down before spreading her legs and dropping his pants. “Gonna make you suffer before I bash that pretty little head in.” He choked her while whipping out his swollen cock, so massive that Americana knew it was going to split her in half. She grabbed his wrist and beat her fists against his arm, trying to get free. Razor grabbed her ankle and pulled her in, sliding his cock into her, stretching her pussy out.

“AAAIIIE!!” she screamed, her mouth agape as Razor began fucking her.

Razor grinned and licked his lips before wrapping both hands around the heroine’s neck while fucking her. He squeezed and she gagged. She tried prying him off, but her strength was fading. Razor pushed in deep, making her body rock and her tits jiggle, and as he did, he reveled in the sight of her eyes rolling back as she struggled to breathe.

“Don’t think that dying on me is gonna let you off…” Razor said to her. “I’ll just fuck your corpse, brat.”

Time passed, Razor continued fucking her, and Americana’s struggling weakened. Her vision was fading, it was getting harder to breathe, and she could feel herself slipping away.

“F...Freya…” Americana whispered with tears in her eyes. “...Help…”

“What was that?” Razor asked. “Doesn’t matter. I’m about to send your ass to hell. Just think, you’re gonna die on the dirty floor of a prison with my cock in you. Pathetic...” He let out a laugh as the sweat beaded on his forehead.

Just then, he got short of breath. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, like a fist squeezing his heart, and he gagged and clutched his chest. He growled and eventually stepped back, pulling his still-stiff cock out of the heroine. He then stumbled, knocking over furniture as he tried to grab onto something. “Wh...what the fuck…?”

Americana watched him, confused, and slowly sat up, holding her aching neck.

Razor looked at her with pure panic in his eyes as he now struggled to breathe. “What the fuck did you do to me?!” He yelled at her. He then let out a choking sound and fell to his knees, holding his chest. Moments later, he was face down on the floor, unmoving.

Americana stood up. The room was silent. She slowly, carefully, walked over to Razor but kept her distance. She looked around, unsure what to do. He wasn’t getting up. The doors then slammed opened and Americana turned around to see a small squad of riot cops charge in. They froze and looked at the naked heroine, but she held her hands up and they eventually lowered their weapons, taking up formation in the room while some of them went to check on Razor.

“Interesting…” Pervo said, having watched the whole thing from the upper level of the cell block. He looked at Razor’s dead body. “It seems I have some adjustments to make to my formula. Apologies, Razor, my dear boy. I truly did like you.” He then heard movement on his level and got in a cell and lay on the floor among broken glass and other debris.

Moments later, a lone riot cop came in and saw Pervo laying there perfectly still. He walked over and knelt down, touching Pervo’s pulse to see if he was alive. Pervo clutched a piece of broken glass and when the cop got close, he lunged up, jamming the weapon in the cop’s neck to keep him from screaming. As the cop struggled to breathe, Pervo dragged him into the cell, careful to make sure no one below noticed.

III

Some time later, Americana sat in the back of an ambulance as paramedics checked her. She watched other medical workers wheeling Razor’s body away and to the back of another ambulance. She shook her head and noticed a riot cop, his face covered by his helmet’s shield. The cop looked in her direction, but kept walking. He quickly got in a squad car and drove away.

*

That night, after a long shower, Brenda sat on the couch in her apartment. All the local channels covered the riot, the injury reports, and Mayor Ortega’s speech following it all. Freya stood behind the couch, taking in the information.

“What a mess…” Freya said. “But at least you’re okay,” she said, putting a hand on Brenda’s shoulder.

“What the hell happened to Razor to make him like that?” Brenda asked.

“Professor Werder is at the coroner’s office. I pulled some strings and got him access. Maybe he’ll be able to tell us,” Freya said. “What worries me is that Pervo apparently escaped in all of this. They’ve already caught every inmate who managed to get out except him…”

*

In a rundown apartment somewhere in the city, Pervo stirred a pot of stew cooking on an old stove. He took a sip from his ladle, nodded, and added a pinch of salt before leaving his meal to cook. He turned at the sound of someone knocking on his door.

“It’s open.”

The door opened and closed and after a few moments, a woman entered. She was in her 30s, tall, blonde, and her curves hidden by a black overcoat hugging her narrow waist. She looked around the apartment.

“Good evening, Professor,” she said in a thick German accent.

“Lady Kessler,” Pervo nodded.

“Do you have what we asked for?”

Pervo pointed to his dinner table, which had a metal case on it. Lady Kessler walked over and opened it, finding several vials of serum along with a notebook inside. She opened the book and saw it contained notes of research.

“It is not perfected,” Pervo said. “The last subject died of an apparent heart attack just like many others. I thought I isolated the cause but I was wrong. I’m confident your researchers will be able to iron out the kinks, however.”

Lady Kessler nodded and closed the case. She looked Pervo over. “I could just take this and kill you, you know…”

Pervo took another sip of his stew and looked at her. “I know.”

Lady Kessler smirked at him and went into her coat. Just then, she gasped as something slipped out of the shadows and grabbed her throat from behind. It was a tall, thin monstrosity with pale skin and fangs. She froze as the monster’s tongue slipped out of its mouth and tasted the flesh of her face. One hand slid down her coat and grasped the warm skin of her right tit.

“An experiment I still had in storage,” Pervo explained. “Not my best, but he was one of the few still alive. I need my insurance policy,” he smiled.

“...Of course…” Lady Kessler said, making no sudden moves as the monster fondled her.

“I find working with your kind abhorrent,” Pervo said. “My father fought you people at Leningrad in the war and he would have my head if he knew I was working with you, but I need my money.”

Lady Kessler smirked and slowly removed something from her pocket. It was a cell phone. While the monster continued fondling her, she typed something on her screen.

Moments later, Pervo’s phone buzzed and he picked it up. He saw a text message saying there was $5 million deposited in his bank account. “Wonderful…” he said. He then turned to his monster. “Heel.”

The monster grumbled and let Lady Kessler go.

She glared at the beast and turned to Pervo.

“This ends my involvement with your organization,” Pervo said. “Do not contact me again. Good day to you.”

Lady Kessler left without a word, taking the briefcase with her.

Pervo poured some stew into a bowl and put it on the floor. The monster walked over and sniffed at it before he began eating it, still grumbling. “I know, my boy. This is just a snack. We’re near a part of the city popular with its young people. You’ll get your proper meal in a few hours,” he said while scratching the beast’s head.

He then opened a notebook he had on his kitchen table. “First...I must finish my initial plans for my latest creation. The young lady from the prison offered me some inspiration, after all.” He flipped the book open and turned to the latest entry, showing detailed sketches and notes of a curvy, naked woman with an Aphrodite’s physiology. At the top, it said “Project: Alpha Woman.”

The End