Miss Americana vs the Boarman Chapter 5 - Havoc in the Hospital

By Violator

Our Story Thus Far:  Miss Americana has gone to the city of Broodhaven, the domain of her hated rival the Boarman, in pursuit of a group of villainesses known as the Dark Prizm.  Unfortunately, she and two of her friends were ambushed and captured.  Lady Midnight and Omega Woman were both impregnated and gave birth to unknown monsters, which were taken away by two of the Prizm.  The remaining three were about to begin using their artificial insemination machine to impregnate Miss Americana as well, when the window of the prison hospital room in which they have secreted themselves suddenly shattered into many pieces.

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Revision note:  this is the second version of this chapter; a couple of typos readers pointed out have been fixed.  There were no other changes.

With gasps of shock, the three Prizm members whirled to face the shattered window.  From the looks on their faces, Miss Americana could tell that every last one of them was expecting the crash to be followed up moments later by the Boarman’s boots flying through into the room.  From the looks of terror that briefly appeared upon their faces, each one spent that instant desperately trying to figure out how she would deal with that.

But instead, nothing came through the window.  The shattered pieces, hundreds in all, hung in place in the air.  Then, slowly, they turned - like a vast flock of razor-sharp knives training in on a target - until every last shard had its sharpest point directed straight on into the room.  With a gasp, at last the occupants of the room, heroine and villainess alike, could see the form of Royal White hovering a few meters outside the window - the pure-white X clearly visible on the chest of his otherwise jet-black bodysuit.

“Step away from your hostage and put your hands on your head,” his teenaged voice called in to them.  “Or else I turn you three women into living pincushions.”

Rude Ruby gasped for a moment, staring.  Then, her face twisted into a snarl - as it dawned on her that the inexperienced Royal was unlikely to have that level of control.

“It’s a bluff,” she said.  “Call it.”

“You got it,” Violent Violet said.

Lunging over, the electric-purple-haired villainess seized up the helpless naked body of Lady Midnight.  Picking her up bodily over her head, with a roar, she hurled her directly out towards the window - and directly into the forest of razor-sharp glass shards.

“NO!” Miss Americana moaned, in horror.

“Fuck!” Royal White said, his eyes going wide.

He had only a moment to react before Lady Midnight’s naked body was shredded upon his own shards.  So he could not do anything fancy.  Spreading his hand apart, he sent all the glass shards telekinetically hurtling outwards within the plane of the window - dispersing them like a ripple spreading out across a pond.  This happened just in time - a moment later Lady Midnight’s helpless body soared out through the open hole where once a hundred lethal blades had awaited her.  But there was still the matter of a three-story drop - which she was on course to take head-first, with her hands bound.  Yelping, Royal White reached out and caught her with his powers while she was still arcing down, her ankles above the sill.  He paused a moment, staring in awe as her enormous dark boobies sloshed back and forth before him - and suddenly gained a new fetish.  Then, with a flick of his fingers he sent her back up through the window to land with a heavy but safe thump upon the floor just inside.

Unfortunately, all of this had absorbed so much of the young hero’s concentration that he did not realize that Violent Violet had followed up on throwing Lady Midnight out the window by immediately lunging forward, and jumping out herself.  He did not realize this until his head suddenly snapped up and he gasped, to see her descending down onto him, with a big toothy gleeful grin on her lips, only a meter away.

He did not have time to react any further, or defend himself in any way.  A moment later Violent Violet’s thick purple boots landed upon each of the young hero’s slender but athletic shoulders.  Crouching down, Violent Violet leered down into his horrified face.

"Let's see how fragile your masculinity really is, boy," she purred.

Then, with a bestial roar, Violent Violet slammed her fists down in a furious series of devastating punches directly into the handsome young man’s helpless and unprotected face.  Royal White’s body jerked and shivered in mid-air, while squeals and splatters of blood erupted from his pulverized face.  Snapping her head down, she sank her teeth into him and ripped out a chunk of his cheek.  Then with a snarl Violent Violet leaped back off him, just as the devastated hero lost consciousness and started to drop away like a stone - a mass of bloody ruin where his face had just been.

Doing a backflip through the air, Violent Violet landed upon the sill with a thud and then rolled back into the room.

“How was that?” she asked, wiping some of the blood off her lips and onto her equally red-stained knuckles.

“That was great,” Rude Ruby growled, staring out the window.  “But don’t get too smug.  The boar's little herd is hardly out of piglets yet.”

Indeed, outside the window, having been smart enough to hang a few dozen meters further back, hovered Royal Star.  The magenta-glowing boy had a gape of shock on his face - his arm extended, having just managed to catch his unconscious team-mate with his own power before the latter’s body took an almost certainly lethal head-first impact into the parking lot below.  Then, he looked up.

“Calling all Royals, calling all Royals, this is Royal Star requesting backup,” he snarled.  “Royal White down; I am going to engage.”  But he could not do so immediately - having instead to set Royal White's limp hanging body down in a safe place before he had any concentration to spare.  Which gave the Prizm a few seconds to work out their next move.

“Want me to go take out this one?” Jaded Jade asked, bouncing eagerly on her emerald heels.

But Rude Ruby shook her head.

“No.  Win or lose they're all going to be on us like a ton of bricks in about thirty seconds, and we need to preserve our strength for the main event.   We're going to split up, and flee through the hospital - they’ll be too scared to bring their full power to bear there.”

“But the prisoners…” Violent Violet whined, frowning.  "Three heroines as hostages could be real useful - we really just going to leave them?"

Rude Ruby shook her head.  “Fuck those losers - they’re useless, and we have what we need.”  She smirked.  “But we should leave them both a nice little present before we go, shouldn’t we?” she said.

Both of the other Prizms smirked.

Reaching down, rather than bother trying to crank in any further, Jaded Jade activated the machine.  Miss Americana moaned in horror as it turned on - and began preparing to pump its horrid cargo up and into her womb.  “Enjoy, slut!” Jaded Jade smirked, as she turned to follow Rude Ruby out the door.

Meanwhile, Violent Violet had seized a large metal suitcase from near where they had stashed the incubators, and threw it down in the center of the room.  She kicked it open, to reveal a large amount of dynamite, covered in nails, with a digital timer attached.

“Hope you like super-heroine puree, fuckboi!” she cackled out to Royal Star, before starting up the red glowing digital count-down with a nudge of her foot and following Rude Ruby and Jaded Jade in turning and beating feet.

Having finished safely securing his unconscious colleague, Royal Star had just been in the process of gathering a glowing purple energy bolt to nail her with.  When he saw the bomb, he gasped and panicked.  Afraid of setting off the explosives, his hand jerked to one side.  A section of the wall erupted in a shower of plaster as his bolt went deliberately wide.

Violent Violet smirked.  "Pussy!" she called out to him, giving him the middle finger.  Then her purple butt surged out the door, before he could get another bolt ready.

"Shit," Royal Star said.  He put his hand to his ear.  "Prizms are on the run.  Dispatch, send someone after them.  I have my hands full here."  He floated forward and hovered in the window.  The timer on the bomb had started at three minutes - long enough to ensure the Prizms themselves could get clear and little else.  It had already lost thirty seconds.  "Shit," he said.  He put his hand to his ear again.

"We have a bomb in the hospital, repeat bomb in the hospital," he said.  He glanced around and swallowed, as he took in the quantity and quality of naked helpless heroine flesh squirming before him - all of those sumptuous curves waiting to be blown to bits if the bomb went off.  "I... I don't know how to deal with this, I need help."

A voice crackled back that was recognizably that of the Boarman.

"The other combat Royals are going to be busy chasing the villainesses you let escape," he growled.  "The support Royals are coordinating, or out of position.  You need to sack up and deal with this yourself."

Royal Star looked over the ticking bomb and shook his head.  He glanced once more at the gorgeous heroines squirming helpless before him, and sweated.  "I might need assistance..." he said.

"I'm... a little busy!" the Boarman growled.  He let out a deep grunt - which was followed a moment later by a loud ululating moan from Jiutian's divine voice, echoing down through the ceiling.  "Just... envelop it and get rid of it!" the Boarman growled.

"I've never done that with something this heavy before!" he protested.

"Do you think I can just stop and come down there?" the Boarman growled, accompanied by another grunt and another high-pitched multi-lingual moan.  "You can do it.  Just... concentrate!"

"R-right!" Royal Star said.  "I'll do my best!"  He dropped the call.

Meanwhile, to one side Americana squirmed helplessly upon her bed - desperate to get loose but not succeeding.  Although the ticking bomb clearly concerned her, psychologically a far greater focus was on the tube leading up into her pussy, and the rumbling machine to which it was attached.  A countdown timer was also running there, as it completed its diagnostics and prepared to deliver its payload - and that was getting disturbingly close to completion as well.

"What are you waiting for?" she gasped to him, as she saw him standing there for a second, studying the bomb and doing nothing.  "T-take this thing out of me!  Hurry!"

He glanced up, shook his head, and then looked back down.  "I see you," he told her.  "But I need to take care of this first."

"It will only take a second!" Miss Americana protested.  She writhed desperately.  But all this accomplished was to make her enormous boobies slosh distractingly before him, while doing nothing whatsoever to remove the tube from her vagina.

"L-let me concentrate!" Royal Star snapped.

But as the machine finished its diagnostic cycle and began pumping, Miss Americana was in no position to allow this.

"Oh... oh my Goddess!" she moaned, staring in horror at the pearly fluid starting to inch its way up the clear tubing.  She lashed her feet desperately.  And this time, she did accomplish something.  One of the bindings that kept her feet tied to the corner of the bed had been tied loose enough that her mighty boot lashed out - and struck Royal Star right in his buttocks.

"Fuck!" the young hero yelped, as he was nearly knocked off his feet.  His fingers spread, he had just begun to summon up a bubble of purple force around the bomb.  It promptly popped, vanishing like a soap bubble blown up in haste.  He whirled his head and glared back at her.  "Be quiet!" he hissed at her.  "I cannot take care of both you and this at the same time!"

But, with the horrific seed still inching its way up the tube, now a third of the way up to her pussy, Miss Americana was in no psychological state to obey.  "No!" she gasped - remembering well the rows of horrid teeth she had seen emerging from her colleagues' vaginas, and wanting nothing whatsoever like that ever to lie within her.  "No!  No!  NO!"

"She’s there?!  Oh, fuck..." the Boarman's voice growled over the open radio.  He gave out another sweaty grunt, and then sighed.  "Okay, let me see if I can finish up here real quick..." he said, realizing his sidekick might need help with this situation.

Up above, the shrieks and squeals Jiutian's echoing divine voice was making suddenly started to come much faster, much louder, and at a much higher pitch - as if whatever was happening to her to force her to make such noises had suddenly switched from a slow and steady pace to a far faster and more brutal tempo.  In no time, the shrieks seemed to join together into one continuous psychic squeal.

Doing his best to ignore both this and Miss Americana's continuous panicked moans, as the pearly fluid crept ever closer to her defenseless cunt, Royal Star lifted his hand again.  His fingers shaking, he nevertheless managed to form a complete bubble around the bomb-laden suitcase and begin to move it out towards the window.  He moved it gingerly, in case there was a displacement trigger.  This was not fast enough for Miss Americana, who by now had eyes only for the line of pearly semen rising up, inches away from entering her cunt.

"No!  No!  NO!  NO!" she moaned.  Her thighs lashed helplessly, but were unable to dislodge the hellish tube out from between them, the cord that had bound her still keeping her ankle partially ensnared.

"I s-said be quiet!" Royal Star snapped.  But the distraction proved enough to break his concentration.  The bubble popped again, and the bomb dropped to the floor with a clank, just shy of the window.

"F-fuck!" Royal Star moaned, as he stared at the readout, which was nearly at zero.  There was no way he was going to reform his bubble and get it out the window in time, now.  "You've doomed us!" he said.  "You... you stupid bi-"

Suddenly a muscular arm shot down from out the window and stabbed down into the space just behind the ticking clock.  It seized one of the wires snaking out of it, and yanked it out, fraying strands and broken solder raining down from the severed connector.  A moment later the large red counter reached zero.  But all that happened was that a bright tone, like an alarm clock, sounded.  The nail-covered bomb remained inert.

"Oh, thank fucking God..." Royal Star sighed.  Overcome with relief, the young hero slumped down into a chair and groaned.

"Prizm used the exact same setup that time they tried to blow up a frat house," the Boarman commented, levering himself in through the window.  "Figures they just copied it exactly again.  They're not exactly the technically-minded types, after all."

Miss Americana however, barely seemed to notice her rival's arrival.  Her blue eyes, wide and wild, were still focused on the tube in her pussy.  The pearly fluid now filled it all the way up to the glistening lips of her defenseless vagina - but since the tubing extended some ways further up inside, it might or might not have been coming out the actual end yet.  She squealed again and again, regardless, in pure and unadulterated panic.

Too exhausted with relief to rise from his chair, Royal Star shook his head.  "Can you do something about that noise?" he asked his mentor.

"Gladly," the Boarman growled.

Stomping over, he reached down rudely between Americana's shapely quivering thighs, seized the tube, and yanked it out of her.  Americana shrieked as it got tugged out through her tender gates, almost as loudly as she had at the sight of it rising up into her.  The end popped out, just in time - for just a moment later spurt after spurt of mutant semen started to shoot out,

"Oh... oh Goddess!" Americana said.  The fluid shot out of the tube with such force that, as it bobbed up and down, it ended up splattering all over her.  Thick globs lurched out to smother her broad flat belly, and her thighs.  Others arced up to spatter across her enormous breasts.  Some thin streamers arced up so high, they ended up slapping down repeatedly onto her stunned and wide-eyed face.  Moving with tireless mechanical vigor, the machine spat again and again, until almost every inch of the heroine's body from her forehead to her knees, and everything in between, seemed to have at least a couple of droplets of the sticky mutant cum upon it.  Then at last the reservoir ran dry and the machine sputtered and then shut down.

Miss Americana was left gasping, her eyes blinking out dazed for a few seconds, through dripping waves of evil cum.  Then, at last, she let out a deep and relieved sigh.  "Oh... oh thank the Goddess..." she moaned.  Collapsing back against the bed, her buxom body hung limp in its bonds, while she stared up at the ceiling, panting with relief.

Standing over her, the Boarman shook his cowled head.  "She's not the one you should thank, you ungrateful bimbo," he said.  "But speaking of goddesses..."

Turning from her, he put his hand up to his ear, and reactivated his own radio.

"Royal Seer," he said.  "Be advised, bomb situation resolved.  Redirect any remaining assets to pursuit of the Prizm."

"Doing so now," a female voice echoed through the radio - coming through Royal Star's too who, panting softly in his chair, had yet to get around to turning down his own receiver.

"Please also notify the Hyboria Warden that her escaped Goddess is on the hospital roof and ready for collection," the Boarman continued.  "I left her pacified and unconscious, with a pad over her face.  It should be good for a few minutes, but probably no longer - so they need to move fast."

"Acknowledged," the voice repeated.  "What about Royal White?" she asked.  For the first time, a bit of worried emotion could be detected in her voice.

The Boarman went over and looked down out the window.  His face looked impassive under his cowl.  "Send a medical pickup for him, stat," he growled slowly.  "He appears stable, but he's definitely going to need some reconstructive surgery on the face, if he doesn't want to try to pull off the scarred-up look.  Violent Violet lived up to her name again."

"A-acknowledged..." Royal Seer's voice whispered softly.

"You can cry for him later," the Boarman said, sharply, turning back from the window.  "What about the Prizm?"

There was a short pause, which suggested nothing good.  Finally, Royal Seer spoke to confirm.  "I have three Royals still sweeping Hyboria, and a team in the sewers," she said.  "But... we haven't had contact since they left your current room."

The Boarman swore softly under his breath.

"I'm sorry!" Royal Seer said, her voice quivering.  "I'll... I'll keep them looking.  We'll widen the search."

"Do that," the Boarman said.  "I need to clean up the mess here before I can take on anything else."

"Acknowledged," Royal Seer said.  "Royal Seer out."

The Boarman put his hand down, and then surveyed the room.  He noted the two buxom naked forms of Omega Woman and Lady Midnight.  Still hooded and gagged, Omega Woman knelt naked where the Prizm had left her, whimpering softly as she still had no idea what was going on around her.  Lady Midnight, having been deposited on her back near the window, had worked herself up onto her knees as well.  But based on the way their nipples tented out slightly at the ends of their huge jugs, and the continuous nervous squirming of their curvy flesh, both had heard the Boarman's voice - and were well aware he might at any given moment be gazing upon them.

Americana meanwhile, though equally naked, was still blinking in a bit of dazed confusion through the waves of mutant cum rolling down her face - which was just part of the massive quantity that had been splattered across the entire front of her body.

The Boarman shook his head.

"Superheroines..." he muttered under his breath.

Then, going back to ignoring the heroines for the moment, the Boarman turned to face Royal Star.

"Alright," he said.  He hiked a thumb towards Miss Americana's bound and dripping form.  "I know dealing with bimbos like this is enough to fray any hero's nerves, but that's enough rest for now."

"Oh!" Miss Americana gasped, her face shivering in outrage beneath another dripping wave of cum, as she heard his insult.

"The bomb might be shut down, but it's still unexploded ordnance that's currently in a hospital," the Boarman said, ignoring her.  "Get it out to a safe empty location so the bomb squad can dispose of it.  Then, contact Royal Seer and have her slot you into the search for the Prizms you let get away."

"Yes, sir," Royal Star said.  Standing up, now that he was neither distracted nor under pressure, with a fairly simple gesture the young hero was able to form a bubble around the bomb-laden suitcase.  Then both it and he lifted off, and floated away out the window, moving upwards and swiftly vanishing into the night.

This left the Boarman alone in the room with three naked and restrained superheroines.  Surveying them, he shook his head once more.  Moving around the room he began to remove the ball gags and hoods from first Omega Woman and then Lady Midnight.  Then, with a couple nudges of his boot, he got them all in a row in the middle of the room, Lady Midnight and Omega Woman kneeling to either side of Miss Americana's tilted bed, as they gazed up at him.

"Are... aren't you going to release us?" Miss Americana asked, shivering with fury.

The Boarman shook his head.  "No, not yet," he said.  The three heroines gasped sharply at this.  But they could as yet muster no other response.  "Not until we have had a chance to talk," the Boarman said.  "But, first things first..."

Stepping back from the kneeling heroines, the Boarman moved briefly around the room.  He returned and held his hand up before them.  The two kneeling heroines gaped to see their skimpy costumes dangling back and forth before their horrified faces - plus Miss Americana’s cut-open panties, which ended up directly in front of her naked pussy.

"I am keeping these," the Boarman informed them.  He gave a jerk of his wrist, making their little panties and huge-cupped tops flutter back and forth daintily, before their stunned faces.  "All of them."

Miss Americana, of course, had been through this before.  But the other two had not - and they took the news, if anything, even worse than she had.

"No!" Omega Woman moaned, her buxom body shivering in disbelief.  "That... that would mean I will have to appear before the police and news cameras n-naked!"

“True,” the Boarman admitted, not seeming the least bit distressed by this fact.

"Those are ours!" Lady Midnight objected, staring at her own hero-held thong in disbelief.  "You can't take them!"

"False," the Boarman retorted.  And he proceeded to prove it.  Moaning, their bound bodies squirming upon their knees, the two kneeling superheroines could not look away as one by one the sacred pieces of their captured costumes were added to the little hooks arrayed around the Boarman’s utility belt, last seen in action being used to fulfill the same function for Miss Americana’s gigantic bra.  Soon each heroine looked on in stunned horror to see her own skimpy trademark costume dangling down from the Boarman’s hips, beside his own gray superhero speedo, directly in front of her.

But even as their faces shivered in outrage, Omega Woman and Lady Midnight could not quite help themselves.  Their gorgeous eyes repeatedly darted over, to the gray briefs the Boarman now presented before them, framed between their skimpy trophies.  Their eyes widened, and their mouths dropped open and quivered.  Gasping, they quickly looked away as if worried they would be caught - unable to spare the mental or visual bandwidth to realize that the Boarman was watching them the whole time.  But, apparently unable to resist, their gazes were drawn back, as if by some inexorable force, from their own skimpy dangling panties, and what they found between them… and their lovely jaws seemed to drop open just a bit wider, in some mixture of awe and horror, after each trip.

Miss Americana, meanwhile, turned her head away and, lip trembling sullenly, refused to look at the disgusting scene at all.  Her face twisted up repeatedly, as she very pointedly didn’t watch - looking like a schoolgirl who had just lost a bet and was now being forced to let her best friend and boyfriend kiss.

At last, the Boarman had all three heroine's costumes dangling from his hip - electing to secure Miss Americana’s panties last around the back, so the two newly-arrived heroines each got to enjoy a nice long unobstructed view of her own dangling down from his heroic belt before he was finished.

Glancing back just enough to see that he had finished, Miss Americana’s face twisted into a snarl.

"Okay… okay, fine, you've had your fun at our expense…” she said.  Having already lost her first argument with him over keeping her bra, she had not bothered to try to assist her comrades in what she knew to be their own doomed pleas.  But, now that he was finished, she leaped onto a far more fresh and important topic.  Leaped metaphorically, to be clear, since she was still tied down quite firmly, at both wrists and one ankle, to the near-vertical bed from which she was suspended.

“Now, be quick,and release us!” Miss Americana commanded the panty-decorated hero.  “You need us more than ever, with what the Dark Prizm have just pulled!” she asserted, tossing her hair and glaring at him with authoritative fury.

But, hands down onto his narrow hips, just above all of their fluttering colorful costumes, the Boarman shook his head.

“Absolutely not,” he replied.

“B-but that’s ridiculous!” Miss Americana gasped.  Instinctively, she tried to stamp her foot indignantly - but since it was still tied firmly to the bed, all this accomplished was to make her gigantic breasts slosh back and forth spectacularly before him.  In the process the tendrils of mutant cum still hanging off the tips of each giant boob swayed vigorously back and forth, like decorative tassels, such was the vigor with which her big rack jiggled.  Gritting her teeth, she did her best to ignore this - and continued.  “With all the death and destruction that has already happened tonight, you must set us free this very instant, and let us BLURRGH!!”

But Miss Americana’s attempted outraged tirade was cut short, by the sudden arrival of the Boarmans’ finger at her lips.  He pressed hard, sealing the luscious red petals together.

“Keep this uppity mouth shut, Miss Americana,” the Boarman said into her masked, wide-blinking face.  "Or else, I will return you to the Broodhaven police department exactly as you are now - bed, semen, and all."

He withdrew his finger.  Miss Americana gasped, her eyes wide and fixed upon him.  But for the moment, the threat seemed to have its effect.  Though her lips hung open, they seemed not quite able to dare and speak - such was the terror that coursed through her naked flesh at the thought of him making good on his word.

But the same could not be said for Omega Woman and Lady Midnight.  Recovering slightly from the humiliation of having their costumes taken, and from their previous distractions, at this mis-treatment of their colleague they lifted high on their haunches and glared up at him.

"You cannot speak to Miss Americana like that!" Omega Woman hissed up at him, indignantly.

“That’s right!” Lady Midnight growled, her eyes flashing.  “Plus, you should be grateful!  We’ve just been trying to help!”

“Grateful?” the Boarman said.  “Near as I can tell, the only thing either of you ladies have accomplished so far is to get yourselves impregnated with two unknown monsters that, after their escape, have just been added to the threats facing my city!”

At this, both heroines’ jaws dropped.

“H-how did you know about that?!” Lady Midnight moaned, her naked kneeling body suddenly squirming furiously.  Beside her, her lip quivering and her eyes blinking up in horror, Omega Woman did likewise.

The Boarman laughed.  “There is very little that happens in this city that I do not soon become aware of,” he told them.

The two heroines gasped.  Their eyes slowly spread wider and blinked in horror, as if each gorgeous beauty was contemplating what else the Boarman might be aware of.  Though, based on the way their eyes still darted over repeatedly, it was not just the superiority of the Boarman’s knowledge that seemed to be rendering them tongue-tied.

Looking down, the hero himself smirked.

“Do not worry,” he told them - his deep voice making them gasp, and causing their lovely eyes to jump guiltily back up to look into his.  “I recognize that it was just your loyalty to your friend that guided you,” he said, nodding towards MIss Americana.  “A laudable enough cause, if misguided in its choice of target.  So, unlike Miss Americana, I will give you a choice.”

The two buxom creatures on their knees at his feet shivered, and gaped up at him.

“What… what do you mean?” Omega Woman asked, softly.

“I recognize that you have both undergone a great deal of trauma, after what happened to you,” the Boarman said, glancing down towards the leaking spaces between their thighs.  “As it happens, I am uniquely skilled at soothing such traumas.  I have some exceptionally deep and direct methods for dealing with them.  So instead of accompanying Miss Americana back to the Broodhaven Police, where you will undoubtedly suffer still further, I will permit you instead to accompany me back to my base.”

The two heroines gasped at this.  But, before their quivering lips could speak, he held up a warning finger, and wagged it in their shocked, gorgeous, uplifted faces.  

“Be forewarned ladies,” he spoke down to the buxom kneeling beauties, “if you do accompany me, you must promise to behave like proper superheroines should, in your position.  Any backtalk or disobedience and you will be dealt with severely.  And you must accept my offer now.  If you refuse, or delay in your acceptance, then I reserve the right at any time to hand you back over to the Broodhaven P.D. alongside your so-called fearless leader.”  He gestured up at the squirming, still-silent form of Miss Americana.

At the end of this monologue, the two kneeling heroines were left panting in shock.  They squirmed, their gorgeous faces shivering, as if still trying to process everything he had just lain into them.

“If… if we do go with you,” Lady Midnight asked, “will you take off our bonds?”  Her wrists tugged lightly at the cuffs binding them, behind her back.

“Or… or give us back our costumes?” Omega Woman asked, hopefully.

The Boarman chuckled, and shook his head.  “No,” he said.  

This drew further shocked gasps from the two heroines.  But, lips quivering, they didn’t say anything else.  Looking down at them, the Boarman shook his dark cowled head.  

“Look, I will make the choice simple for you ladies,” he said, with the tone of one observing that, given what he had to work with, nothing else was likely to work.  “If you accept my offer, simply stand and come to me.  If you refuse… back up, and kneel beside your comrade, whose fate you will share.”

He nodded towards Miss Americana’s bed - which, though they knelt to either side of it, both beauties were a little out in front of - the front edge of the bed roughly level with the furthest swell of their extremely well-rounded buns.

But, despite the clear directions, both of the bound superheroines seemed momentarily lost for words.  Faces gaping upwards in shock, their mighty bodies squirmed back and forth - making their enormous bare breasts slosh back and forth, before the Boarman’s knees.

At the sight of her friends’ continued silence Miss Americana, who had briefly been as dazed as any of them by his insolent offer, let a thin smile spread across her lips.  From their silence, she naturally leaped to what was, to her, the most obvious conclusion - and deciding that her own period of enforced silence was at its natural end, she finally spoke.

"Nice try," she cooed at the Boarman.  "But it turns out, you have a lot to learn.”

LIfting her head higher, atop her bed, she looked him boldly in the eyes.

“Don’t you see?” she asked him.  “Our solidarity is stronger than a sleazy and brutish mind like yours could ever comprehend.  Between every superheroine is a sacred bond of loyalty, binding her tight to her sisters.  We would never abandon or betray each other for any reason - especially for a vain, domineering brute like you.”

 Smirking, she shook her head slightly back and forth.

“Even,” she admitted, “if it does mean returning to that filthy pit the Broodhaven P.D. calls its headquarters, and being led in before all its snickering and leering officers.”  She squirmed, as if lost in thought.  “While naked,” she admitted softly, “helpless, and… and in chai-"

Suddenly with a loud moan both of the heroines kneeling before Miss Americana surged to their feet.  Her smug tirade dying into a choked gurgle in mid-syllable, Miss Americana turned her head back and forth and stared at her friends’ backs, her mouth agape in horror.

Enduring her sudden silence, both traitorous heroines had the decency to blush.  Their buxom naked bodies squirmed side by side, hands still bound behind them - their enormous naked breasts sloshing violently back and forth between them and the Boarman’s waiting chest.  Turning their gorgeous heads, both briefly favored Miss Americana with an embarrassed look.  Their sleek thighs squeezed tight together - as if trying, but failing, to hide the shamefully moist and exposed vaginas that ultimately, far more than their heads, were responsible for triggering their surrender.

"S-sorry Miss Americana..." Omega Woman whispered.

"I… I think we just realized… that maybe Warden Bunny had a point after all…" Lady Midnight said.

Her lips hanging open and quivering, Miss Americana could only stare back at them, her blue eyes wide with horror.

Watching this little intra-superheroine exchange, the Boarman let out a low chuckle.  His deep voice, rolling around their sumptuous standing curves, caused both of Miss Americana’s friends to gasp deeply.  At the reminder that he was watching them, both heroines turned back and gaped up at him… and all thoughts of the illustrious ally they had put their own butts on the line to save seemed to vanish instantly from their pretty heads, as they gaped up into his cowled leering gaze.

His square jaw still set into a triumphant smirk, the Boarman laughed once more.  Then he expanded out his arms, creating an obvious waiting space in between each of his bulging muscular forearms and the side of his body.  In response, the two superheroines gasped, and squirmed - their sumptuous bare curves jiggling spectacularly before him.

“Well?” the Boarman said.  He nodded between each of them, and his side.  “Are you ladies going to accept your rightful place, or not?” he asked them.

The two mighty superheroines gasped.  One last squirm ran through their bottoms as they stood before him, naked and bound - but still free.  Then, bowing their heads, they both nodded softly.

“Th-thank you, Mister Boarman,” Omega Woman said softly.

“We… we are so, so very sorry… for our arrogance,” Lady Midnight whispered, squirming penitently.

Then, with twin gasps, both heroines gave in.  Naked bodies coming forward with dainty simpering steps, they turned and, breath coming in soft pants through their luscious lips, delicately inserted their voluptuous bodies into the Boarman’s waiting embrace.  In seconds, both of the once-mighty heroines found themselves pressed up against him - Omega Woman beneath his right arm, and Lady Midnight beneath his left - their buxom bodies jiggling up against him like two nude damsels he had just saved from some villain’s lair.  Though both heroines were of Amazonian proportions, against the mighty Boarman their heads barely came up level with his neck.  Gorgeous faces turning upwards, they gaped up at him in awe.  Meanwhile, their enormous breasts came down to each press and jiggle tightly, against the surface of his equally gigantic pecs.

Looking down, the Boarman turned his head first one way and then the other - and chuckled indulgently, to find a beautiful and once-defiant masked face gaping back up at him, from under each arm.  Then he brought his hands down - and as if completing his capture, coiled them down with obvious relish onto their curvy bare hips.  The heroines gasped to feel his touch upon them, and squirmed helplessly - but made no move to resist him.  Eyes blinking up in shock, they did nothing but squirm and quiver delightfully as his fingers, rather than remaining still, promptly began to rub and fondle freely across them, going up onto their bellies or back onto their projecting bottoms at his whim.

"You've made the right choice, ladies," he assured them.  Even as he said it, the fingers of one hand had slid back to openly cup and squeeze Omega Woman’s gigantic ass, as if appraising her for auction - while his other hand had slid up to caress teasingly around and around the Lady Midnight’s tender exposed belly-button.  Both heroines gasped, and squirmed - and once more made no move whatsoever to resist him.  “Now, what do you have to say for yourselves?” the Boarman asked them, fingers stroking their silky naked flesh with relish.

Side by side, huge breasts jiggling against his chest, Lady Midnight and Omega Woman both panted softly.  Then one by one, they licked their lips, and then answered.

"Thank you, Boarman," Omega Woman whispered.  Going up on tiptoe upon her boots, even as he gave her ass another squeeze, she pressed a kiss to his cheek - her lips trembling against his flesh beside his own smirking mouth.

“Th-thank you for being merciful with us,” Lady Midnight agreed.  Coming up on tiptoe, she too pressed a kiss to his opposite cheek.  

Their lips both quivered for a few seconds, one against each of his square-jawed cheeks.  Then they sank back down, and returned to meekly squirming beneath his endlessly caressing and exploitative touch.  The Boarman looked each gaping beauty in the face, and then looked back up.  Bound to the bed before him, Miss Americana continued to stare - her eyes wide, and her jaw hanging open in disbelieving horror.  Looking into her eyes, he smiled.

"Well, I think that settles that, doesn't it Americana?" he asked her - with a bright kiss-print decorating each side of his dark cowl.

Americana gaped back, speechless.  But, for better or for worse, she wouldn't get to or have to think up an appropriate retort.  For at that moment, the door flew open.

The outer knob proved to be in the hand of Warden Bunny.  She stood in the doorway, still in her pink suit.  Her eyes widened for a moment, as she saw what was going on inside.  Then she shook her head, and a wan smile spread across her lips.

"Well, well, well," she said, observing the Boarman and the three heroines.  "I should have known you would have this situation... well in hand," she said, glancing at where his hands had returned to lightly cup the two Delta City heroines' squirming, curvy hips.

"Of course," the Boarman replied back simply.  Then his face grew more serious.  "What of our friendly neighborhood Goddess?" he asked.

"Oh, her?" Warden Bunny said.

She stepped to one side, freeing up space, but still keeping her hands on the door.  She snapped her fingers.

From one side down the hallway, two orderlies wheeled in what looked like a cross between a stretcher and a small dolly.  Upon it Jiutian was strapped down, kept at a near vertical angle yet pinned firmly in place.  A gas mask was affixed to her face, connected to a portable tank, keeping her under.

"As you can see," Warden Bunny said, gesturing smugly at the re-captured Goddess.  "I too have my problems well in hand."

The heroines gasped, staring.  For the very first time since they had first laid eyes on her, Jiutian appeared less than entirely immaculate.  Her elaborately coifed hair was in disarray, each of her nine jade dragons poking out in a new displaced position - almost as if each had been grabbed one by one and used as a convenient hand-hold during some sort of strenuous close-range activity.  Her dress was torn in several places, and hiked up to her thighs - not quite far enough to see her pussy, but close.  Down her alabaster thighs, a thick mixture of fluids was dribbling.  There were sheets of transparent moisture reaching almost to her knees; and gloppy streamers of thick pearly ooze going only half the same distance.  Mixed in with both were thin streamers of red - like veins of fresh blood.

The three heroines stared at this last tell-tale fluid in particular shock and confusion - until, with soft gasps of horror, it finally dawned on each of them what the implications of Jiutian's instant-rehealing might have for a very particular activity and location...

"Good to see," Boarman said, approvingly.

But at that moment it was revealed that Warden Bunny did not have everything as firmly in hand as she had let on.  At the sound of the Boarman's voice, the slumbering goddess moaned, and began to squirm against her bonds.  And though the ones keeping her strapped to her gurney held, the strap holding the mask to her face proved to have been put on in haste, and not sufficiently tightened.  It came loose and hung down the side of her cheek.

For a moment, everyone on both sides of the door froze, staring in shock.  Everyone, that is, save for Jiutian herself.  Sighing, the immortal goddess slowly shook her disheveled head.  Her night-dark eyes blinked open... and a gasp passed through her lips as she found herself looking right at the Boarman.

"Oh..." the mighty goddess whispered, staring.  Everyone around her was tensed as if balanced on the edge of a knife, bracing themselves for the renewed explosion of destruction and death that her being awake almost surely entailed.  But instead, Jiutian squirmed fleshily against her bonds.  Her eyes darted up and down, taking in the sight of the Boarman standing before her - with two of the buxom champions she had herself defeated already cuddled up naked beside him, one tucked under each arm.

"Oh..." the goddess said, shaking her head, her eyes glued to him.  A wan, tired smile spread across her lips.  "You... you really are... so very worthy!" she whispered.

A moment later, recovering from his shock, one of the orderlies darted forward, seized her mask, and slammed it back into place upon her face.  Jiutian let out a low murmur, as she started to go under again.  Her divine body gave one last squirm against her restraints.  Her dark eyes gazed up... and focused on the Boarman's face.  As she started to lose consciousness again, to once more go dormant for who knew how long, a couple of tiny heart-broken tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes... before she once more surrendered herself to the void.

"Okay... enough excitement..." Warden Bunny said, looking like she was recovering from her heart briefly stopping.  She gestured down the hall.  "Get her back to her room, or cell, or whatever, and get her secured again."

The orderlies nodded, and wheeled Jiutian away.  Then the Warden turned and faced into the room once more.

"Can you help dispose of this for me?" the Boarman said.  He nodded towards Miss Americana.

Looking at the cum-splattered heroine, Warden Bunny smirked.  "Gladly," she cooed.  She nodded towards the two heroines in his arms.  "What about those two?" she asked.

"I'll be debriefing them personally," the Boarman assured him.

Warden Bunny rolled her eyes.  "Of course you will..." she said, and could not quite keep a jealous tinge out of her voice, or off of her face.

But at the Boarman's comment, a puzzled expression appeared upon Omega Woman's face.  She turned and looked up at him.

"Why would you need to debrief us?" she asked.  Her huge breasts rubbed and jiggled against his chest as she gaped up at him in confusion.  "You already took our panties," she pointed out, softly.  Her mighty thighs squirmed, squeezing together slightly, to either side of her bare dripping pussy.

Boarman laughed, as did Warden Bunny.  "God damn, getting owned wiped out what little brains that blonde head had, didn't it?" he sneered.  And, craning his head out, he gave her a light kiss on her forehead.  Omega Woman gasped, as did Lady Midnight - but both heroines just clung tighter to him, and blushed, as the snickers of the Warden and her orderlies still swirled around their naked flesh.

"Speaking of," Warden Bunny said, after her laughter died down.  She reached back and held out her hand.  "Do you want this, to go with the rest of your collection?"

An orderly handed her something.  She lifted it up.  It was Miss Americana's golden belt.  The Prizm had not bothered to collect it, and it had been left on the floor of Jiutian's room.

Americana bleated in shock as she saw it.  The belt dangled down from Warden Bunny's uplifted hand, beside her full and smirking lips.

Boarman briefly considered.  Then he shook his head.  "Nah," he said.  "I've got my hands full enough already."  To demonstrate, he raised them up and cupped them to the sides of each heroine's enormous rack, and gave them a little squeeze.  The two heroines gasped softly, faces pressed against his shoulders - and merely squirmed in response, making their huge breasts jiggle spectacularly in his grip.

Warden Bunny nodded.

"Alright," she said.  "Get her out of there.  Give our... special mysterious unnamed guest some privacy."

Two orderlies walked in and seized the tilted bed holding Miss Americana.  They began to wheel her out.  As she felt herself being taken away, Miss Americana seemed to wake up from her shock at some of the recent events she had witnessed.

"You... you let me down right this instant!" she snarled at the masked men pushing her along, to either side of her.  "Do you know who I am?  I will go all the way to the governor if I have to!  You will pay for this!"

But the two orderlies ignored her, as did the Boarman.  Turning away, with her two busty friends still under his arms, he lifted a hand to his head.

"Royal Seer, this is the Boarman," he said.  "Please send the Boarjet for immediate pickup of myself, plus two detainees, for immediate transfer back to the Lair.  Also, please make sure Bedroom Arena Three is prepared - I am going to need to engage in some very deep and thorough, if quick, interrogation."

"Roger that," Royal Seer's voice said.  "I'll make sure it's been properly cleaned since... you know who.  But I'm afraid Royal Ivy is currently using the jet to help search for the Prizm.  Do you want me to get the old one out and start warming it up?"

Looking back and forth between the two beauties blinking up at him, Boarman smirked.

"No,"  he said.  "There's no rush.  We can get started here."

But at that point, having been wheeled out into the hallway, the door closed behind her - sealing her off from both the Boarman and her friends.  Miss Americana found herself spread-eagled, naked, before Warden Bunny, who stood with her hands on hips, shaking her head.

"You never have learned a thing, have you?" Battle Bunny asked, enjoying the sight of Americana's cum-splattered face and naked pussy arrayed before her.  "You still can't help but intrude onto my turf - and you still just love paying the price for it."

Miss Americana's lip trembled, but all she managed to emit in response was a low, furious growl.

Battle Bunny smirked, and shook her head.  "Okay," she said.  "Let's get this slut out of here, and back into Broodhaven police custody where she belongs."

Walking ahead, Warden Bunny let the orderlies push the bed-bound Americana behind her.  As she got wheeled through the halls, they passed various nurses and guards, all either bustling back and forth or milling about nervously in the aftermath of the crisis.  Every last one stopped and stared in awe as the naked Queen of Justice was wheeled past.  Americana blushed at this.  But, realizing that this was only a foretaste of what she would get once handed back over to the Broodhaven pigs, it dawned on Miss Americana that despite her fury, she really had only one path open to her.

"Battle Bunny," she suddenly called out, once they had turned a corner and arrived before a bank of elevators.  "Can we talk?"

"Of course we can," Warden Bunny said, not looking back.  Stepping forward, she pressed the button to summon the freight elevator, and then stood waiting.  "Why?" she asked, still not looking back.  "Do you have something interesting to say?  Or are you just going to bore me with more empty bimbo-bluster?"

Miss Americana took a deep breath.  She really, really didn't want to say what she was about to say.  But she didn't have any other cards left - she had no choice.

"Battle Bunny..." she said.  "I'm sorry."

A shiver ran through Warden Bunny's pink-clad body.  She seemed frozen to the spot for a moment.  Then, she finally turned her head and looked back over her shoulder, her eyes wide.

"The fuck you just say?" she said, flabbergasted.

"I'm sorry," Miss Americana said, doing her absolute best to sound sincere.  "For moving into your territory, all those years ago.  I... I should never have done that.  I apologize."

Warden Bunny's lips hung open for a second, staring.  Then, her face closed up.  She whirled, and put her hands on her hips, glaring.

"What do you want?" she asked.

There was no use denying it.  "I want you to not hand me over to the cops," she said.  "As one last sign of respect - from one heroine to another."

Battle Bunny shook her head.  "I'm not a superheroine," she said.

"But you were," Americana pointed out.  "That is still part of you, whether you like it or not.  It never completely goes away."

Battle Bunny tapped her chin, considering her prisoner.  At that moment, the elevator dinged, and opened.  Still silent, Battle Bunny stepped aside and let her orderlies wheel Americana in, then followed.  They rode down in silence.  When they reached the ground floor, she let them wheel Americana back out, and followed.  Then she held up a hand, signaling the two orderlies to hold position.

"Now that we are on the ground floor," she said to her orderlies, "this prisoner is too dangerous for you.  Hold on while I summon replacements."

She pulled out her phone and tapped it.  In a minute, two hulking men in guard uniforms came down the hall.  From the numerous scars that covered their faces, they had been serving in Hyboria for a very long time.  They were built like gorillas, or neanderthals - and Americana got the distinct impression that they must have been the subject of some villainess's genetic experiment that, after her arrest, had ended up getting shunted into the Hyboria guard program like any other criminal.  Their name tags read Bing and Bong.

The orderlies seemed to recognize the two guards on sight.  They swallowed, and moved out of the way.  The two hulking men took over control of Americana's bed.  Battle Bunny nodded.

"Follow me," she told them.

She set out down another hallway.  As she walked, Battle Bunny lifted her phone back up to her ear and called in.  "Security, this is the Warden.  I just got reports of a leak at dock two.  Our little divine guest might have sliced open a pipe of something particularly nasty with her sword.  Can you be dears and keep it clear for me, until I can get confirmation?"  She listened in.  "Good." she said.

A short time later they arrived at a loading dock door - a smaller dock on a different face of the building from the one Americana and her friends had slipped out of.  Warden Bunny walked out, followed by Americana being pushed by Bing and Bong.  Once outside, she found herself upon a loading dock facing out onto a side parking lot.  The outer wall of the prison complex was a few dozen meters away.  A gate house controlled access through it.  Americana gasped to see the Americana-mobile in the distance, almost alone in a distant side lot, where her auto-drive command had parked it.

Battle Bunny had her guards wheel Americana down a ramp and onto the pavement at the base of the dock.  Then she motioned them to spin her around.

"Face her to me," she told them.

Soon Americana found herself restrained, naked body facing towards her old rival.  Battle Bunny stood before her, hands on her hips, resplendent in her bright pink suit.  Americana shivered, as a chill night breeze blew across her bare jiggling flesh.

"Sorry about that," Warden Bunny said.  "If we are going to discuss this we need privacy."  She nodded towards Bing and Bong.  "They don't talk - ever," she said.  "And are very personally loyal to me.  Understood?"

"Understood," Americana said.  She took a deep breath, hope blossoming in her ample breast.  "So you are going to let me go?" she asked.

"Not so fast," Battle Bunny said, shaking her head and waving a chiding finger back and forth.  "I have not decided yet.  But if we are even going to discuss it, there are some ground rules you absolutely have to accept."

Americana swallowed.  "Understood," she said.

"First things first," Battle Bunny said.  "Even if we do make a deal - I did not 'let you go.'  You punched your way free unexpectedly and escaped.  Got it?"

Americana nodded.  "Of course," she said.

"Second," Battle Bunny said, putting both hands together and tapping her fingers together as she studied Americana intently, "you must agree to my terms."

"What do you want?" Americana asked.  She had a sinking feeling in her flat belly - being naked and bound, she had very little leverage.

Battle Bunny's eyes moistened a bit as she stared at her - as if being wetted by the mists of history she was staring back across.  Then she shook her head, as if to clear the fog from it.

"I want an apology," she said.

"I just gave you one," Americana protested.

"Not like that!" Battle Bunny hissed, her eyes flashing.  "Not just a few cheap words!  I want you to apologize in a way you just can't take back as soon as you feel like it!"

Miss Americana took a deep breath, and licked her lips nervously.  "Anything you want..." she finally whispered, shivering.

Battle Bunny nodded.  Then she looked at Bing and Bong.

"You, hold this," she said.  She lifted up Americana's belt, which she had been keeping in her left hand as they walked.  Bing came forward and took it.  At her direction he backed up far to her right, keeping a tight grip on it.  "You, take this," she said to Bong, holding out her phone.  At her direction he backed up in the opposite direction, until he stood in the shadow of the loading dock.

Then, Battle Bunny came forward and, looking up into her face, began to personally loosen Miss Americana's bonds.

"I can see the calculation in your head, bitch," she whispered.  "You don't have your belt - yet - but it's one old has-been heroine and her two guards.  You're pretty sure you can still take us, right?"

Americana swallowed - and then slowly nodded, as she felt her booted left ankle get undone.

Battle Bunny smiled.  "I'm glad you at least paid me the respect not to lie," she said.  "You may be right, you may not be.  But I would remind you - the Boarman is right here, and his Royals are combing every inch around us.  If your fake escape becomes a real one, how long do you think you'll last?"

Americana swallowed.  "Not long," she admitted.

"Remember that," Battle Bunny said, as she undid her other ankle.

"I will," Americana promised.

At last, Battle Bunny undid the last restraint holding Americana in place.  The buxom heroine gasped as she slid down to her booted feet upon the pavement.  For a moment, she and her old rival faced each other, faces very close, from a range of well under a meter.  Then, Battle Bunny backed up.  She walked back several paces, and then turned once more to face Miss Americana.  She turned her head to Bong, who was still holding her phone.

"Film us," she told him.

The hulking guard nodded, and then lifted up the phone.  Soon he had them framed.

Battle Bunny nodded, then turned back to face Americana.

"Kneel," she said.

Americana gasped.  Her body shivered.  But then, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, her knees suddenly buckled, and she sank down onto her haunches on the pavement.

Battle Bunny nodded, in satisfaction.  "Now, crawl," she said.

Americana whimpered softly.  But she did not see any other choice.  Coming down onto all fours, gloved hands and bare knees on the pavement, she slowly crawled forward, across the filthy asphalt, until she knelt at Battle Bunny's feet.

"Good," Battle Bunny said.  She pointed downwards.  "Now," she said.  "Apologize.  The way you should have, that night way back when, out by the docks."

Americana blushed softly.  Then she nodded.  Coming back down onto her all fours, she brought her face down near Battle Bunny's gleaming pink shoes.  In her peripheral vision she saw Bong coming forward, to get a closer view - framing up her coming apology for posterity.  Americana's blush deepened, but at last she could not resist.

Putting her head down low, her hair sweeping Battle Bunny's feet, she brought her lips down near her toes.

"I...  I am sorry," she whispered.

Ducking her head down, she pressed a kiss to the toe of Battle Bunny's left shoe.  She lifted back up, licked her lips, and whimpered.

"I... I should never have intruded on your turf," she said.  Bowing down, she pressed another kiss to her right toe.  Then she continued her apology, punctuating each sentence with another obsequious kiss to Battle Bunny's feet.  "Every-everything that happened is entirely my fault," she said.  Her blush deepened as, during this kiss, she heard Bong moving slowly around behind her - until he had a clear view of her glistening uplifted pussy, as she pressed another kiss to his boss's feet.

On and on, Miss Americana laid admission after admission and apology after apology onto Battle Bunny's feet, while Bong slowly circled - getting the buxom naked heroine's penitence documented from every angle.  Finally, when he had completed his circle and she had run out of things to say, Americana sank back onto her haunches and looked up.  Battle Bunny's shoes were covered in kiss-prints from her lips.

"Is... is that enough?" she asked.  She squirmed.  "Are you satisfied, Bunny?"

Battle Bunny tapped a finger to her high cheek, considering - and then shook her head.  "With the words, yes," she said.  She smirked.  "But with your actions?  No.  No, you are going to have to try harder with those to 'satisfy' me..."

And reaching down, to indicate to the kneeling heroine what the final stage of her apology would have to be, Battle Bunny hiked up her skirt.  Americana gasped.  Beneath it, she wasn't wearing any underwear.  She shivered - and her blush deepened behind her mask.  Then she nodded.  "Oh... okay..." she whispered.

Cheeks bright pink, Americana hobbled forward, and assumed the position, kneeling now just over Battle Bunny's feet.  She brought her gorgeous face close, while Bong kept filming.  Then, at the last second, Battle Bunny put her hand down on Americana's head, stopping her - and revealed she was not actually quite done with words after all.

"Who was the superior heroine?" she asked her.

Americana shivered, her mouth trembling in shock right before its waiting, drooling destination.  Then she swallowed.

"You were," she admitted.

"Spell it out," Battle Bunny said, her voice suddenly sharp.

Americana took a deep breath.

"Battle Bunny," she whispered softly, "was in every way a superior superheroine to Miss Americana.  Miss Americana... was barely fit to lick Battle Bunny's boots."

Battle Bunny nodded, looking as if an old wound had finally healed.  Then she withdrew her hand.  "You said it," she said.  "Now act on it."

Americana whimpered.  But she had no choice.  Raising her head up, she went ahead and showed that she finally knew her place, knew what the relative positions of her and Battle Bunny should have been way back in the day - by working her tongue up in between the waiting lips of Battle Bunny's moist pussy, and beginning to eat her out vigorously.

"Oh.... ah...." Battle Bunny sighed, her head rolling.  The expression on her face was as if two decades of tension were being steadily massaged out of her.  She exhaled softly, again, and shook her head.  "You... you get defeated way more often than you let on," she purred, as she enjoyed Americana's tongue-work.  Her smirk broadened.  "Either that, or... or you heroines get up to way more interesting things in your spare time than you ever told me about."  Reaching down, she wrapped her hands around Americana's bobbing head, and pulled her more firmly into place.  "Maybe if you had brought me in to all your rug-munching parties... I would have stuck around, and…. and not been such a f-frustrated b-b-BITCH!" Battle Bunny moaned.

Then, smashing Americana hard up in between her thighs, Battle Bunny stopped bothering with speech.  Head rolling back, she demonstrated the efficacy of Americana's ongoing apology with a series of coos, and sighs, and yelps of pleasure before her minion's camera - while Americana's lips and tongue continued to do their slurping best to mend the relationship between them after so many years of discord and hatred - the best way they possibly could.

Bong continued filming.  But Warden Bunny could not be absent for very long.  Soon, her phone started to buzz.  Bong grunted, and tilted it so she could see the multiple messages shooting up to partially obscure the screen.

Warden Bunny sighed.  Then she stroked Americana's slurping head.  "Looks like my children need their mommy," she said.  "So hurry it up - and don't pretend you don't know how!"

Americana whimpered.  But her tongue obeyed.  Ceasing to lap and tease Battle Bunny's labia, she slid back up to the now very sensitive and well-prepared clitoris and began to stroke it skillfully.  Battle Bunny shivered, and cooed - and then, nails digging in tight into Americana's hair, with a yelp, she came.  Americana moaned, as her old rival's orgasmic fluids splattered across her face - and kept lapping.  Fingers trembling with pleasure, Battle Bunny gasped as she ground her pussy hard onto Americana's tongue, shivering as the orgasm rolled through her.  Then she relaxed.

Moaning softly, Americana withdrew her head out from Battle Bunny's legs, and sat on the ground, her eyes blinking slowly.  She had not gotten a chance to clean any of the cum off her face - now a fresh layer of Bunny's lady-fluids had been added on top of it.  Looking down at this, Battle Bunny smirked.

"Okay," she said, hiking her skirt back down.  "I think that leaves us just about even."  She held out her hand, and retrieved her phone from Bong.  Then she signaled to Bing.  He came back in and handed Americana her belt.  The Queen of Justice put it back on, gasping with pleasure as she felt her mighty powers return once more - even if she remained naked.

"Here’s the deal then," Warden Bunny said, from the dock, flanked by her guards.  A little bit of Americana's saliva was visible dripping down between her thighs, underneath her short pink skirt.  "You have a few minutes to get lost.  Then I report your 'escape.'"

"Got it," Americana said.  "Thanks, Bunny."

The Warden put a hand down to the front of her skirt, and stroked her crotch through it.  "Don't mention it," she purred, shivering with residual pleasure from Americana's final apology.

Under observation by the Warden and her goons to make sure she didn't double back or try anything else funny, Americana started out towards her waiting car.  As she walked out across the long empty parking lot, she heard some noises above her.  She turned her head, and gasped.

There, along the edge of the roof overlooking her, she saw three figures.  The tallest one, his broad shoulders looming and his cape billowing against the night sky, was the Boarman.  The other two were her friends - but they were clearly on their knees, facing away from her.  She could see the backs of their heads, level with the Boarman’s waist.  Beneath that each beauty still had her gloved hands trembling in a pair of cuffs, just above the enormous squirming swells of their jutting round bottoms, which were in turn just visible over the edge of the roof.

A chill ran through Miss Americana’s body, as she suddenly realized that the Boarman had no doubt witnessed some, if not all, of her ‘apology’ to Battle Bunny.  But, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, she did her best to pretend she hadn’t even noticed him - as she set out on the long walk past him to reach her car.  But it was hard - and, despite herself, her eyes kept darting up and taking little glimpses, over and over again, even as she tried not to.

The position of her friends, and of the Boarman, meant that whatever lay directly in front of them, between their faces and his waist, was completely blocked from her view - hidden by a combination of their heads and deep shadow.  But, even from her vantage far below, the Queen of Justice could not help but notice the way their lovely heads seemed to bob delicately back and forth, and the faint wet slurping sounds that seemed to echo down to her from their position… and felt a shiver of preternatural dread run up her buxom bare flesh.  Her mind repeatedly tried to imagine what it was that seemed to absorb them so… and she quickly shoved those insidious and unwanted thoughts aside as best she could.

Chuckling softly, the Boarman smirked as he watched Americana’s stunning naked body slowly saunter pneumatically along, far below.  Then, turning his head down, he stroked his dark gloved hands over each of the gorgeous heads bobbing up and down, ever so slightly, at his waist.

“Alright, that’s a good warm-up, girls,” his voice rumbled - loud enough for Americana, approaching three stories below, to still hear.  “But now, it’s high time you girls really start learning your place - the only way superheroines truly can.”

Taking a tight grip on each heroine’s head he held them stationary before him, while he pulled back his own hips.  Then he turned his waist towards Omega Woman.

“Ready for your first lesson, slut?” he asked her.

The side of her gorgeous face just barely lit up by the light, Omega Woman’s eyes went wide as she divined his intent.  “N-no!” she moaned, shivering in sudden and open panic.  “W-wait!  Not yet!  It’s too BI-GGLURRGH!”

Ignoring her, with a delighted chuckle, the Boarman suddenly used his grip on the back of her once-superhuman head, combined with a sudden thrust of his hips, to slam her up towards his waist.  Still just barely in the light, Omega Woman’s eyes spread out and blinked in pure wide panic - as some unseen but apparently utterly irresistible and dominating force overwhelmed her ability to speak, and reduced her to making nothing but loud, distressed, choking gurgles.

“I said,” he repeated with a dark growl, “are you ready to learn your place - SLUT?!”  Then, keeping his grip tight on her shivering head, he slammed his hips forward again and again.  Another storm of chokes and gurgles exploded down from Omega Woman’s shivering head.  The mighty blonde whimpered, and squirmed.  Although she was bulletproof and could fly, whether due to the still-lingering effects of the gas or sheer psychological domination, the kneeling superheroine did not seem to be able to escape or resist whatever was being done to her in any way.

So, unable to fight or flee, she went with a third option.  Suddenly the panicked whimpers and desperate gurgles vanished - to be replaced by a series of sighs, and moans, and wet vigorous slurping.  Her blonde head, in an instant, suddenly ceased struggling, and instead began bobbing back and forth vigorously beneath the Boarman’s cupped hand.

“Ah, yesss…” the Boarman groaned.  His voice rumbled, with what was obviously deeply gratifying pleasure.  “Finally, one errant superheroine figures out what her tongue is really for,” he purred.

At his waist, Omega Woman visibly shivered, and let out a humiliated moan.  Her head froze for just a second - and then resumed bobbing, accompanied by more loud wet slurps.

Down below, Miss Americana gasped - hearing everything.  And then, a deep blush on her cheeks, she finally strutted right past - and continued onwards.  Watching Miss Americana’s departing swaying backside with nearly as much interest as he had her jiggling front, the Boarman enjoyed Omega Woman for a few more seconds.  Then, he suddenly pulled back.  Omega Woman let out a stunned gurgle, sounding almost as shocked as when he’d pushed into her, and then was left wide-eyed and panting at his feet.

Looking down, the Boarman chuckled.  Then he turned to Lady Midnight - whose head he still had gripped tightly in his other hand.  “She learned her first lesson pretty well,” he said, nodding towards the dazed ruin of what had once been her proud comrade.  “Ready to try yours?”

Despite the fact that her chin was moist and her lipstick already smudged, Lady Midnight’s eyes were wide with shock at what he had just done to her colleague  “C-can’t we t-talk about this a bit, first?” she moaned, in near-panic.

“No,” the Boarman said, and once more slammed his hips forward while yanking her gorgeous head to him.  Moments later his head tilted back and he sighed with pleasure, as at his waist Lady Midnight’s distraught face could only quiver and gurgle as it too was slammed up into its wild-eyed place between his thighs.

Now strutting away from them Miss Americana gasped - and did her best not to look back.  But she couldn’t quite help it, and still did so a few times.  However, mercifully, with each shivering step she now grew further away - and the sounds fainter.  She tottered along, as if her buxom bottom was being chased away by the plaintive moans and gurgles of Lady Midnight, washing out to swat at it.  Then, in an instant, her choked struggles too were suddenly transformed into the sounds of moans, and sighs, and adoring obedient slurps - as she gave in and accepted her ‘lesson’.

The Boarman let out a bark of laughter.  Miss Americana gasped as soon, based on the slight difference in the tone and tenor of their respective moaning, she was certain she could hear him start swapping back and forth between her two friends at will - and no longer finding even a token resistance from either of them.  His laughter came again, louder, rolling out across the lot and over the sounds of her moaning slurping friends - and Miss Americana shivered, and walked faster.

At last the sounds started to fade entirely into the distance as she drew near to her car.  Meanwhile, she began hearing a new sound - a distant whine, as of twin turbine engines.  It was faint at first but grew louder rapidly.  A dark fast-moving silhouette shaped vaguely like Boarman's logo materialized out of the gloom over the city lights in front of her, and swooped in across the sky.  It soared right over her head, just above rooftop level, and settled in and briefly hovered over the hospital behind her.  The engines whined louder for several seconds.  Then it shot away again, and vanished back into the night.  

In its wake, all was silence.  At last, Miss Americana turned and looked back.  Her friends, and their new overlord, were gone.  Shivering and now alone once more, she turned back.  She was now but a few strides shy of her car.  She took a deep breath - and then, resuming her pace, finally strode right up to it.

And as she did so, her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide.

"Oh... fuck..." she whispered.

At last, now that she was both up close and free of distractions, she finally began to notice details she had missed before.  Her car, already banged up by its incompetent tow job, had somehow become even more thoroughly damaged - or at least so she surmised, by the amount of fluids she saw leaking out from it.  Darting forward, she came around the back to face the driver's side door, finally looking down onto the front - and her jaw dropped further.  

There were several deep gashes in the hood, like some massive dragon had swiped its claws through it.  She could see directly down into the engine - enough to see that several pistons had been sliced clean through.  Coolant and other fluids were leaking everywhere.  Her car was as dead as a beast that had been shot through its heart.

"What... what the FUCK?!" Americana moaned, putting her hands to her head and staring at her now utterly destroyed supercar in horror.

"Oh, did I not mention that?" Warden Bunny cooed, still watching from the loading dock.  "Yeah, Jiutian happened upon it while she was cutting up my guards, and had some fun 'breaking' her fallen enemy's 'steed'."

Americana shook her head, tears streaming down from her eyes.  "But... but that means I'm... stranded!" she moaned.

"Does that sound like my problem?  I don't think that sounds like my problem," Warden Bunny cooed.  She used her badge to open the loading dock door, gestured her goons through, and then stepped in herself.

"Bunny!" Miss Americana wailed, still standing stricken beside her dead vehicle.  "You... you can't just leave me out here!"

"You say that," Bunny cooed.  "And yet..."  She stepped through the door, and let it start to swing close.  At the last second, she stuck her hand back out, and waved.  "Thanks for putting in all that sweet tongue-work, slut!" she cackled.  Then she slipped her hand back through, and let the armored door close and lock behind her.

Americana was left standing naked, helpless, and alone.  Turning her head she gazed in horror at the skyline of the hostile, unfamiliar, and unforgiving city that loomed up ominously around her… and shivered in dread.

To be continued next time, when Miss Americana finds some unexpected assistance on her impending walk of shame…