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The Hammer (Call Me Americana #4)

by Sigma

I

Brenda touched the fresh bruise on her hip and winced. Her sports bra, spandex shorts, and skin were all soaked in her sweat. Her tits heaved as she took a deep breath, the pain stinging her side. She looked up when Freya stood over her and offered a water bottle.

“Thanks…” she said, taking it.

Coach Kay walked up behind Freya, grinning as she unwrapped the tape around her knuckles. “You’re getting there, Brenda.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Brenda sighed, poking at the bruise.

“Oh stop whining. That’ll clear up in a few hours,” Coach Kay said. “Plus, I was hoping leaving you with that might take your mind off of whatever’s bothering you.”

“How do you know something’s bothering me?”

Coach Kay sat on the bench next to Brenda and leaned back, stretching her lean muscles. Brenda couldn’t help but stare at the woman’s sculpted abs and taunt physique.

“I’ve been bruising people up since before you were a twinkle in your dad’s eye, Brenda. I can tell when someone I’m beating on is distracted. You’re distracted.”

Brenda sighed. “Did Freya tell you about what happened at the prison last week?”

“The big fucker was on some kind of super steroid or something, right?”

“Yeah,” Brenda said. “He almost killed me. If his heart hadn’t given out, I’d be dead right now.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to get use to that in this life,” Coach Kay pat her on the shoulder. “When I still wore a costume, I came close to dying so many damn times…”

“No, it’s not that, Coach,” Brenda said. “At least...not just that.”

“What then?”

“I have these powers, but he was so much bigger and stronger than me, and I had no idea how to fight him. All I could do was run.”

“Ooooh,” Coach Kay said. “I got you.” She slapped her meaty thighs and got up. “Frey, a word.” She said, grabbing Freya’s arm and leading her away.

Brenda watched the two of them go back and forth in hushed conversation. Coach Kay suggested something and Freya seemed hesitant. Coach Kay persisted and Freya folded her arms and sighed, shaking her head. It took more convincing, but Freya eventually relented.

Coach Kay then came back, smiling. “All right, you need to learn how to take someone who’s physically overpowering, and I know just the person.”

“Who?” Brenda asked.

“Have you ever heard of something called the Iron Cage?”

II

That night, Brenda, Freya, and Coach Kay were in a darkened arena made from an abandoned loading dock in an abandoned shopping center in a part of Delta City Brenda had never been to. They were surrounded by hundreds of screaming, bloodthirsty spectators. In front of them, two fighters clashed inside and eight-sided cage. The floor was stained with blood and the impacts of fists hitting flesh were almost as loud as the cheers.

Brenda stared in awe as she watched. On the drive over, Freya and Coach Kay explained that the Iron Cage was a worldwide, underground fighting promotion where anyone could test their skills. It existed for decades and was particularly popular in cities with large populations of superpowered people. Heroes and villains alike saw it as neutral territory and could test their skills against each other with victory being the only stakes. In the promotion’s long history, there had only ever been three deaths in the cage.

The Iron Cage had US chapters in Star City, Fortune City, New York, LA, and all over Canada, Western and Eastern Europe, Asia, Central and South America, and Africa. Fights ended with either a knockout or a submission or one fighter’s inability to reasonably continue. The governing body was shrouded in mystery, with rumors saying the world governments oversaw it as a way to keep heroes sharp and intel on various villains’ abilities updated. It not only attracted those crowds, but seasoned martial artists, pro wrestlers, street brawlers and anyone else brave enough to get in. Coach Kay explained to Brenda that some of Delta City’s past heroines often visited the Cage and she had gone one-on-one with them, but left the details vague.

Brenda looked around the crowd, seeing people shouting and money changing hands as they bet on the fight. Coach Kay grabbed the girl’s neck and made her turn around.

“Watch the fight, Brenda. This is important.”

The fight had been over, with the two fighters bloodied and battered as they exited the cage. After that, two fighters, a pair of fit men who looked like they knew how to fight, climbed in the ring and wait. It was then that a silence fell over the crowd and all eyes went to the entry ramp when a spotlight shone on a lone figure at the top of the ramp.

She was easily 6-foot-6, solid muscle with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. A tight, dark red spandex top hugged her impressive tits and a matching thong was wedged between her ass cheeks. She stood with a commanding presence, looking at the crowd as she made her way to the cage. Over her broad shoulder was a glimmering gold belt.

“Who is that…?” Brenda gasped.

“Hilda ‘The Hammer’ Madsen,” Freya said. “Champion of Delta City’s Iron Cage.”

“So she’s the big boss?”

“Yup,” Coach Kay said. “She hasn’t lost the fight in like four years.”

“But she’s going to fight two men?” Brenda asked.

“They didn’t bring enough guys,” Kay said.

Hilda got in the cage and set her belt aside. She looked at the two men, who took fighting stances. The bell rang and they charged. The fight was over in seconds. One man was ejected from the ring, thrown over its ten-foot-high top. The other got slammed into the mat, knocked out cold. Hilda planted a boot on his chest as the crowd cheered and bell rang.

“Holy shit…” Brenda said.

“She’s a good friend,” Coach Kay said. “I’m gonna have her teach you how to fight bigger opponents.”

“Okay…” Brenda said.

Someone handed Hilda a microphone and she walked around the ring while looking at the crowd. “Is there no one here who can last longer than a few seconds?!” She bellowed. “Come on, Delta City! Someone get in here and take this belt from me!”

Freya watched and then turned to the side. “Katelyn…” Freya said. “...Where’s Brenda?”

Coach Kay turned to her side to see Brenda’s seat empty. Just then, there was a commotion as the light shone on the ramp’s entryway. Americana stood there, basking in the light and surprise of the crowd.

“Oh kid…” Coach Kay said. “What the fuck are you doing…?”

“How did she change so fast?” Freya asked.

Someone handed Americana a mic. A smirk crossed the young heroine’s luscious lips as she raised it to her mouth. “Hilda,” she said. “I’m here. That belt’s coming home with me.”

Hilda looked at her and laughed. “Well, well, well...who’s this? I’ve heard of you. Delta City’s newest heroine, right? Ha, nice.”

“That’s me,” Americana said, walking down to the cage. “And I’m gonna take you down, old woman.”

“While I do appreciate the enthusiasm, little girl, I’m gonna have to give you a spanking for being so rude,” Hilda said. “You see...that’s the problem with you costumed heroes. You’re so damn arrogant right until the time you’re on your back, begging for mercy. I did it to a couple of the chicks who came before you, I’ll do it to you too.”

“This is not going to go well for Brenda…” Freya groaned.

“Nope,” Coach Kay cackled.

“Should we stop her?”

“Nah, don’t be such a mom, Frey. This’ll be a good lesson.”

Freya sighed. “At least they don’t allow cameras in here…” She then got up. “I’m going to the concession stand. I can’t watch this. Can I get you something?”

“Popcorn,” Coach Kay said, and they Freya walked down the aisle.

Americana reached the caged and vaulted over the top and landed in a crouch. Hilda watched her and smirked, before setting her belt to the side.

“Don’t disappoint me. All right?”

“I’ll make sure not to humiliate you too much,” Americana said.

Hilda tossed her mic aside and beckoned the heroine to attack. Americana crouched low and charged. She went to throw a punch, only for Hilda to slip to the side, grab Americana’s wrist with one hand and then bring her other arm around and hit the heroine hard in the throat. A collective gasp went up from the crowd as Americana flew back and landed hard, folding in half at the waist.

Americana was on her back on the mat, legs splayed and seeing stars. She grunted as Hilda reached down and grabbed a fistful of black hair. She forced Americana onto her feet, but her arm around the dazed heroine’s shoulder, and grabbed her wrist to make her wave to the crowd. Hilda then reached behind Americana, grabbing the back of her thong and pulling to wedge it between her cheeks.

“AAAEII!” Americana screamed as Hilda pulled and then lifted her up. The champ pressed the younger heroine overhead with little effort, and then walked forward, letting her fall. Americana landed on her tits and rolled over, gasping for air and holding her stinging chest.

Americana got to her hands and knees and managed to stand under her own power. Just as she did, a big fist found her face as Hilda punched her. She staggered back into the cage, bounced off the metal links, and ran right into the sole of Hilda’s boot when the champ extended her leg out. A raucous cheer went out and Americana groaned and writhed on the ground, holding her head.

Hilda grabbed her by her hair and held her up with one hand, displaying her for the crowd to see as she tried to get out of the hold.

“Tired yet?” Hilda asked with a grin.

Americana growled and drove her fist back, hard enough to stagger the champ. She then planted a red boot in Hilda’s tight abs, knocking the wind out of the bigger woman and making her let go. Americana landed on her feet and Hilda stumbled back. Americana pressed her advantage and ran, leaping through the air in hopes of landing a flying punch. She realized her mistake when Hilda looked up at her and smirked.

The champ had been playing possum.

She grabbed Americana’s fist with one hand and her neck with the other. All Americana could do was gasp and brace herself as Hilda slammed her head into Americana’s face, and then everything went blinding white. The strength left her body and every single limb felt heavy. Americana felt herself falling and landed hard on the mat. She lay there, stunned as felt a weight on her chest and couldn’t move her limp body.

Hilda put her boot on Americana’s chest, pressing down on those meaty G-cups. The crowd went wild at the sight of the heroine’s humiliation, and Hilda flexed her muscles at the easy win. Americana lay splayed and helpless under her heel, and the bell rang when ringside officials determined Hilda’s challenger could no longer continue.

In the stands, Freya buried her face in her palm and sighed. She then looked at Coach Kay. “So do we go down there and peel her up?”

“I don’t think Hilda’s done, babe,” Coach Kay said.

“What do you mean?”

“Just watch.”

Hilda beckoned for a mic and someone tossed it to her. She then raised it to her lips while pointing to her latest conquest. “And there you have it boys and girls. Another fool for the pile.” She then stepped off of Americana and knelt down. “Though...I guess this one can’t beg for mercy,” she said with a laugh.

As she talked, Americana started coming to. She groaned and rolled over, trying to sit up. Hilda stood and stepped back.

“You tried, kid,” Hilda said, walking around her. “I’ll respect the effort. But you came into my house and disrespected me, and that, my dear, simply can’t stand.”

Americana looked back and whimpered, trying to crawl away.

“No, no, no, no,” Hilda said, following her. “That’s not how this works.” She grabbed Americana’s ankle and dragged her back to the center of the ring. Americana reached for the exit and lay there when Hilda let her go.

Hilda stood over her and looked down. “I told you, you hero-types need to be taught a little humility.”  She then looked outside the ring. “Get the cuffs.”

The crowd went wild as two pairs of metal handcuffs flew into the ring and Hilda caught them. She dangled them in front of Americana.

“Oooohohohoho, shit,” Coach Kay laughed.

“What is happening…?” Freya asked.

The champ tossed the microphone aside and picked Americana up. The heroine was still weakened and in no shape to put up a fight. Before long, she was cuffed to the links of the cage, her arms spread wide and feet planted on the floor. Hilda looked her over and nodded approvingly as American weakly pulled at the cuffs, trying to escape. Americana noticed a cameraman behind the champ, and saw herself on a giant screen hanging above the ring that projected to the entire arena.

“Let me go!” Americana demanded. “You already won!”

“Yes, I already won,” Hilda said. “Now I take my prize.”

Americana gasped and the crowd cheered as she ripped off Americana’s bikini top, making her tits spill out in all their glory. She turned bright red from anger and tried to kick Hilda, who knocked her leg aside and then slapped her on her meaty thigh. Hilda then leaned in and whispered.

“I’m just gonna play with you for a bit, dear,” Hilda whispered to her. “The mask will stay on. I wouldn’t do that to you, but you need to see there are consequences when you come at the queen and miss.”

Americana looked at her and then gasped and slumped over when Hilda punched her in the stomach. She struggled to catch her breath, and Hilda grabbed and began massaging her tits.

“H...hey!” Americana said in surprise. Her face was still red, but from embarrassment instead of anger, and she moaned lightly as the champed played with her tits. She ground her feet against the mat, trying to fight back the sensation she was feeling, and Hilda grinned, taking her time to play with the soft, meaty flesh of Americana’s tits. She punched the and tweaked the suddenly-hard nipples, and laughed when Americana moaned and wiggled in her grasp. She bit her lip, pointlessly trying to get away from Hilda’s molestation.

“You know...it was a few years ago, I had another heroine right where you are. Big chick. Samoan, I think. She put up a better fight than you, but it ended the same way. I remember that fight pretty well, like I do most heroines I’ve beaten up.”

Americana looked at her, unable to say anything. She felt warm, she felt herself unable to focus on what Hilda was saying. Even the crowd noise was a blur. All the heroine could sense was the sensation of Hilda’s touch and the climbing pleasure mounting in her body. She didn’t try pulling at the handcuffs anymore. Instead, she relaxed and tried to focus on breathing, even as her mind became hazy.

“It’s weird,” Hilda said. “Most of my fights against other heroines I remember clear as day, but you know what I remember best? The taste.”

Before Americana could respond, Hilda leaned in and began sucking on her left tit while still squeezing and massaging the right. Americana gasped and bit her lip, throwing her head back. Hilda sucked on the soft, supple flesh, biting at the nipple and a roar went up from the crowd. Americana’s eyes rolled back in her head and her knees buckled, but Hilda moved her hand to the heroine’s shapely hip and kept her propped up as she continued sucking her tit. Hilda continued lapping up the girl’s taste, taking time to switch between her tits. She reached down and squeezed Americana’s plump ass, and the heroine squealed.

When the heroine’s knees buckled again, Hilda slid her arms under her bare thighs and lifted her up, pressing her back against the cold metal links of the cage, all without taking her mouth off of Americana’s tits.

Americana couldn’t help but wrap her legs around Hilda’s thick waist and throw her head back, crying out in pleasure as Hilda continued sucking on her tits, harder this time. She could feel herself growing wet between the legs, and the warmth from Hilda’s mouth on her skin made the heroine even wetter when she imagined it on other parts of her body. She could feel her mind slipping, wanting to submit fully to the more dominant woman.

Hilda continued squeezing and sucking on her tits, and as she did, Americana gasped as she felt herself leaking. Thin, white liquid dripped down Hilda’s tits before she pulled back and grinned. She squeezed harder, and more of Americana’s milk spilled out of her tits. Americana stared, stunned at the sight of her own milk streaming out with Hilda’s massaging and squeezing. The crowd was deafening and Americana didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or furious.

Hilda grinned, her hands soaked and jaw slicked as she continued draining her opponent. The milk stained the mat with great, runny puddles. As it did, Hilda licked Americana’s naked torso and her tits, licking the milk up before wiping her jaw. 

“Gotta restore some of my strength after all that,” Hilda said with a laugh.

Americana growled at her. “I’m gonna get for this!” she swore, her tits still dripping.

“Get stronger then,” Hilda said. “And come see me again in a few months.”

Americana was about to respond, but all she could was brace herself as Hilda’s big fist came at her face, and everything suddenly went dark.

*

Backstage, sometime later, Americana sat in a locker room, topless and pissed off. Freya knelt in front of her, treating the black eye Hilda left the young heroine with. Americana turned her icy blue gaze on Coach Kay, who stayed by the door with a smug look on her face.

“I was gonna have you meet Hilda after her fights tonight, but you went and rushed in,” Coach Kay said.

“You should’ve told me she was giant…”

“When would I have had time, kid?” Coach Kay asked. “You took one look and ran off, thinking you had it handled.”

Americana narrowed her eyes and sighed as Freya continued tending her injuries. She looked at her tits and squeezed them. “I’ve never been so embarrassed…”

There was a knock at the door and Coach Kay opened it. Hilda stood on the other side and walked in when the door opened. 

“Yo. You okay?” She asked Americana.

“From being punched or being milked?” Americana asked.

Hilda laughed. “This game is all about theatrics, kid. Give the audience what they want and they’ll keep coming back,” she said. Her belt was draped over her shoulder. “Really, though, good fight.”

“Yeah...thanks…”

“Oh come on,” Hilda said, sitting next to her on the bench. “You’ll be fine. The only thing hurting is your ego.”

“Did you seriously have to milk me?!”

“Well if I knew you were gonna be here, I’d have brought my strap-on instead,” Hilda told her.

Americana looked away, turning even more red. She then nearly fell off the bench when Hilda slapped her on her naked shoulder.

“Train up and then come take another shot,” Hilda told her as she got up to leave. “I’m not going anywhere.” She walked over to the door and stood next to Coach Kay. “You’ve got this old battle axe in your corner,” she said, putting a hand on Kay’s shoulder. Hilda was so big, she even made the imposing Coach Kay look small.

“I’ll remind you I’m three years younger than you, Ms. Hammer,” Coach Kay said.

“Yeah, yeah. Whip her into shape, Katie,” Hilda told her. “This was fun and I wanna do it again.”

“Roger that,” Coach Kay said. She and Hilda hugged and then Hilda left the room.

Americana watched her go and stood. “Let’s go home.”

“Wanna take a few days before we start training?” Coach Kay asked.

“No. We start tomorrow morning,” Americana told her.

III – Two Months Later

Freya walked into Professor Werder’s lab holding two mugs of coffee. She found the professor mulling over a series of boards with calculations and schematics and notes and gave him a mug.

“Ah...thank you, dear,” Professor Werder told her. “How goes the training?”

“Between Kay’s training and your analysis of the footage I managed to obtain by sneaking a camera into the Iron Cage, I think Brenda stands a chance now,” Freya said. “She then looked to a towering figure hidden under a white sheet. “Is it time for that?”

“I think so,” Professor Werder said. “Is Brenda in the training room now?”

Freya nodded. She then looked at something on one of the professor’s work benches, a long, golden belt. “What’s this?”

“I’m still fine-tuning that one.”

*

Coach Kay smiled as she stopped to catch her breath. She was soaked in sweat, but so was Brenda, standing across from her in fighting stance.

“You’ve definitely improved,” Kay said. “Now, I think you and I should…” She looked past Brenda. “What in the fuck…?”

Brenda turned around see Freya and Professor Werder walk in. Behind them was a robot, almost seven feet tall with a broad build. It was just a metal endoskeleton, with no distinguishing features.

Brenda stared up at the robot. “What is this?”

“It’s your new training partner,” Professor Werder said with a proud smile. “I have yet to give it a name, but I built it to be roughly Ms. Hilda’s size.”

“...Okay…” Brenda said.

“I went to Iron Cage matches and snuck a camera in,” Freya said. “So I recorded Hilda’s fights and the professor used the footage to train the robot’s artificial intelligence, so it fights like her.”

“Oh!” Brenda said. “Okay!”

“I could not make the robot anywhere close to Ms. Hilda’s weight, for obvious reasons,” Professor Werder said. “So please keep that in mind.”

“You sure this is a good idea, doc?” Coach Kay asked the professor.

“It’s fine, coach,” Brenda said. She then looked the robot over, stepped back, and took a fighting stance. “Let’s go.”

Professor Werder smiled and stepped back before typing something on the tablet he carried. The robot then lifted its head and took a fighting stance. Coach Kay and Freya stepped aside and Brenda and the robot charged at each other.

*

A grueling hour later, Brenda bent over with her hands on her knees. Her workout outfit was torn to shreds, her sweat-drenched tits heaved with her breathing. The robot was in much the same position, and Freya and Coach Kay watched.

“Well done, kid!” Kay said proudly.

“Professor, why did the robot stop?” Freya asked.

Professor Werder finished typing in notes and looked up from his tablet. “I programmed the robot to have the same energy reserves as a human, so it gets tired, essentially. I calculated what I hypothesized to be the limits of Ms. Hilda’s stamina and endurance and set that for this session. I could take the limiter off if you’d like, Brenda.”

“No, no!” Brenda said. “This is good.” She pointed at the robot. “So does this mean I fought Hilda to a standstill?”

“Essentially,” Professor Werder said.

Brenda grinned and walked over the robot. It lifted its head as she made a fist and knocked. “Hehe, I’m going for that belt, Hammer!” She then turned to face the others. “All right, I’m taking a shower and then let’s all get dinner, yeah?”

Just then, the robot sprang forward and grabbed Brenda.

“Ah! Hey!”

The robot hooked both of her arms behind her with one arm and lifted her. She kicked futilly as it swung her around. With its free hand, the robot began squeezing Brenda’s tits.

“Hey! What….what the hell are you doing?!” Brenda demanded.

“Doc?” Kay looked at Professor Werder.

“Fascinating…” Professor Werder said, looking at the data on his tablet. “The robot’s neural net is self-evolving. It was fed Ms. Hilda’s information, but it’s behaving on that data for so long that it’s taken on her personality, including improvising as she would.”

“So…” Freya said, looking at the screen while the robot swung a helpless, screaming Brenda around and continued molesting her. “...You’re saying that robot thinks it is Hilda.”

“Precisely!” Professor Werder smiled. “Ooooh, I could not have anticipated this.”

“You’ve never done this before?” Kay asked.

“Oh no, artificial intelligence is not my area of expertise. I’ve been reading about it online and speaking with experts as I worked on the robot these past two months. My friends on the forum are going to love this!”

“Professor!” Brenda screamed. The robot continued squeezing her tits and Brenda moaned at the sudden feeling of pleasure while kicking her legs, trying to get free. She then looked down, gasping in horror as streams of milk began pouring from her tits with the robot’s molestation. “Oh, come on!”

Professor Werder’s nose was buried in the tablet and he walked away. “I must go over this immediately…” he uttered.

Kay and Freya watched him leave.

“Well…” Kay said. “We gotta help her. She pays us, after all…”

Freya nodded. “Be right back.” She left the room, leaving Kay to watch as the robot continued milking the helpless Brenda’s tits. Moments later, Freya came back a pair of knives from the kitchen. She flipped them upside down and took at fighting stance. “After you, Katelyn.”

Coach Kay nodded and cracked her knuckles while approaching the machine.

IV

The Iron Cage arena was packed wall to wall a few nights later. The crowd chanted at a deafening tone, all eyes on the ring. Freya, Kay, and even Professor Werder were in the crowd watching intently.

Americana and Hilda stood on opposite ends, sizing each other up.

Hilda looked the young heroine over and put her hands on her hips. “You better not disappoint me, girl.”

Americana smirked. “Take one last look at that belt, old lady.”

Hilda simply smirked and looked ring side. She gave a single nod and the bell rang. The crowd roared as the two of them charged at each other. Hilda got close and dropped her shoulder, intending to charge into Americana. Per her training, Americana watched the big woman’s legs and slid at the last second. She went between Hilda’s legs and ended up behind her. Before Hilda could turn, Americana grabbed her braided hair and kneed her hard in the back, sending a shocked gasp through the crowd.

Hilda grunted and fell to one knee and Americana followed up, jumping, grabbing Hilda’s hair and coming down on her shapely ass as she drove Hilda’s face into the mat. Americana rolled to her feet and the crowd cheered.

Hilda got up, looking at the heroine with a gleam in her eye. A trickle of blood ran down her nose and Hilda licked it up before grinning. “Ohhh...this is going to be fun.”

Americana put her fists up and beckoned the Hammer to strike.

For the next hour, there wasn’t a distracted eye in the house. Everyone watched the two combatants go back and forth, with neither woman holding the advantage for long. It was Americana’s youth and speed against the Hammer’s experience and overpowering strength.

As the fight dragged on, both women had been mostly stripped of their costumes, showing off curvy, impressively muscled bodies. Americana had bruises, Hilda had bruises, but the two women looked at each other and smiled.

“You came this far in only two months,” Hilda said. “I’m expecting big things from in the future, little girl.”

“Don’t you get it?” Americana said arrogantly. “The future is now, old woman.”

Hilda chuckled. “I’m going to have to take some things out of my arsenal that I haven’t used in years.”

“...What?” Americana said.

Hilda charged at her and Americana ran to meet her, jumping up and leapfrogging at the last second. Americana turned and, at the last second, saw Hilda’s big arm coming at her. She bent back at the knees, avoiding the blow, and planted her hands on the mat. She hit Hilda twice in the ribs with a series of kicks that staggered her. When Hilda stumbled back, she lunged forward and threw another punch. Americana back flipped away but felt the ground shake from the impact of the blow.

Hilda watched her and stood, timing her next attack as Americana landed. She then lifted both massive arms and swung them around, clapping her hands together. He impact made a deafening boom that hit Americana in the chest like a truck.

“AH!” The young heroine screamed as she was lifted off her feet and thrown into the side of the cage. She bounced off the chains, her ears ringing, and stumbled forward right into Hilda’s open hand.

Hilda grinned and locked her grip around Americana’s neck.

“Shit…” Coach Kay uttered.

Americana punched and kicked out of desperation, but Hilda ate the attacks. She leaned in to Americana’s ear and whispered. “Thanks for this. We’re gonna do this again.” She then lifted the girl up by her neck, and choke slammed her into the mat, much to the shock of the crowd.

“…Ow…” Americana groaned, her vision swimming as she laid, stretched out on the damaged mat, completely sapped of her strength.

Americana felt a big, bare foot on her naked tits. Hilda stood over her and flexed for the crowd as the bell rang.

Americana then looked when she saw Hilda kneel down and grab her wrist and help the heroine to her feet. “Oooh…” the groggy heroine said. “Some sportsmanship…”

She then let out a sigh when Hilda, once again, locked handcuffs around her wrist.

*

“This is bullshit!” Americana said. She was suspended from the top of the cage via a pair of handcuffs around each wrist, her naked body on full display before the whole arena. She could only watch helplessly as Hilda was handed her belt and a microphone and she strut around the ring, holding up her belt.

“Well,” Hilda said. “That was fun!” She looked at Americana. “You tried, kid, but you came up short. So why don’t you hang around a while and think about what happened here tonight?”

The crowd laughed and Americana turned beet red with fury. “Take this fucking cuffs off and let’s go again!” she kicked and thrashed angrily, her naked curves jiggling.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Hilda said, reaching up and slapping her on the thigh. American yelped and stopped, but kicked at Hilda, who stepped back and laughed.

“Keep that determination,” Hilda told her. “The city needs people like you. I might’ve beaten you, but come see me again. You’ll get there one day.” She told her. “Until then, I’m gonna hold onto this,” she said, patting her belt.

Americana sighed and lowered her head. “I promise I will beat you. Don’t you go dying of old age on me before then.”

“Ha!” Hilda laughed, slapping her on the ass. “You got it, girly.”

*

Later, backstage, Americana sat on a chair in the hallway, wrapped in an oversized t-shirt while Coach Kay tended her bruises.

“Really, you did well out there. No one’s lasted that long against Hilda in years,” Kay said.

“Yeah…” Americana said. “Where are Freya and the Professor?”

Kay sighed. “The bouncers caught the doc taking pictures. Pretty sure Freya’s trying to convince them not to break his limbs and throw him in the bay. In the meantime, I saw some vending machines down the hall. You want a soda?”

“Yeah...and those little sandwich cookies I like if they have them,” Americana said.

Coach Kay smiled, pat her on the shoulder and walked off.

Americana sighed and slouched in her seat. She touched a lingering bruise on her face and then closed her eyes to rest when she felt a hand tap her on the shoulder. The heroine opened her eyes to see a teenage girl standing in front of her. She was tall for her age, almost as tall as Brenda, with brown skin and hair. Americana guessed her to be a Latina.

“Hi,” the girl said.

“Hey there…”

“You almost had Hilda out there. I saw the whole thing,” the girl said.

Brenda listened and figured the girl’s accent to be Mexican.

“You’ll get her one day. She can’t be the champ forever.”

Americana smiled. “Thanks. What’s your name?”

“Luisa Torres,” the girl said. “I’m gonna be a superhero just like you one day.”

“Well, it’s good to have to a dream, Luisa,” Americana said. “But being a superhero is dangerous. You really should think about doing something else.”

“Nuh uh,” Luisa said, shaking her head. “That’s my dream, and I’m going after it.”

Americana knew there was nothing she could say to dissuade the girl.

“Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’m rooting for you,” Luisa told her. “I hope you feel better and I hope you get her next time.”

“Oh, thanks!”

Luisa smiled and shook Americana’s hand and then walked away.

Americana watched her go. “That girl is way too young to be watching this stuff…” she said to herself as she leaned back in her chair, wincing at a sudden pain in her ribs.

V

Days later, Brenda sighed in relief as hot water poured out the shower head, dousing her from head to to. She was coming off of another training session with Coach Kay, and the heat of the water relaxed her stiff muscles.

She rubbed her body with liquid soap, taking care to get every generous curve. Brenda slid her slender fingers down her tight stomach, toying with the outer folds of her own pussy. As she gasped lightly, she began fingering herself, slipping one finger in while using her thumb to play with her clit. She leaned back against the tile wall of the shower, take slow, gentle strokes and enjoying her solitude.

Her nipples were rock-hard, her tits covered in suds and dripping with water. Her muscles tensed as the pleasure built, and she bit her lip, grunting and gasping lightly as she pushed her finger in up to the knuckle. With her other hand, she massaged her one tit, squeezing the meaty flesh as the water continued coming down on her. She saw images in her mind while pleasuring herself, the hard muscles of Coach Kay’s body when they trained, the way the older woman’s athletic shorts wedged between the cheeks of her toned ass.

She thought about the sensation of Kay’s tits against her when she would pin her to the floor and lock her in a hold and torment her until she escaped. She thought about the weight and warmth of Kay’s body, and reminded herself about how she would sometimes take her time escaping, just to prolong the feeling of Kay’s touch.

A smile crossed Brenda’s face as she closed her eyes, and she could feel herself getting increasingly wet between the legs.

Just then, the door to the shower stall opened and Brenda opened her eyes.

“Ah, Ms. Brenda, there you are!” Professor Werder said, straightening his glasses.

“AHHH!” Brenda screamed in surprise. She backed away, stopping her fingering as her heart raced in her chest. “Professor, what are you doing in here?!”

“Come, come, I must show you this!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the shower.

“Professor!” Brenda said as she exited, still soaking wet.

*

Minutes later, they were in the professor’s lab, with Brenda wearing towels around her waist and hair, and flip flops on her feet.

Professor Werder went to his work bench and presented Brenda with an object, a golden belt with three blue stars on it and a red A on top of the middle star.

“What’s this?” Brenda asked.

“I was inspired by Ms. Hilda’s belt, you see,” he explained. “With this, my dear, you will be protected by a kinetic forcefield against high-speed projectiles – bullets and the like. It will also offer general impact resistance.”

“Huh…” Brenda said, looking it over. On the inside, she noticed a small blue stone set in the belt. “What’s this for?”

“Ah,” the professor said. “That is an substance called milkanite. It is a bioreactive mineral that affects some, but not all, women with Aphrodite physiology. It took me some time to secure a sample that reacted to your genetic makeup in particular, but with it, your inherent powers will grow more potent over time. It also powers the abilities of your belt, so it must never be removed.”

“I have never heard of this stuff,” Brenda said.

“Yes, as I said, very few Aphrodites actually respond to it physiologically. I’m still researching why that is.  For instance, not a single woman on that old team before you has any record of being reactive to this substance. You’re among the rarest of the rare, my dear,” he said with a smile.

Brenda smiled back and put the belt on.

“I should warn you, however, that it also amplifies your weaknesses, such as your...shall we say, altered mental state when you are brought to sexual climax.”

“So this belt will make me stronger?” Brenda asked.

“Yes, but you must beware of…”

“Can I beat Hilda?”

“In theory, with time, but you should be wary of…”

“Thank you, professor!” Brenda said, cutting him off and turning to leave with the belt. “Send the robot to wait for me in the gym while I suit up.”

Professor Werder watched her leave and shook his head. He then looked at the robot, which sat idle on its charging platform.

“The youth of today. I do not understand them, my friend.” He then walked over to the robot, which had slash marks from Freya’s knives and dents from Kay’s fists. “Still...best to remain on the good side of these women, yes?”

He watched Brenda leave when an idea struck him. “Hmmm….” he looked up at the robot. “How would you like a companion, my friend?”

The End