Ms Americana: The Palace

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR EASILY OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL, BONDAGE, DISCIPLINE, FEMALE SUBMISSION OR OTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS.

 

Ms Americana/Brenda Wade and Lydia Wills/Flag Girl are the creations of Mr. X.  I came up with the other villains.

 

Please direct all comments and feedback to ThomGall@hotmail.com.  Put Ms Americana or Story feedback in subject line, otherwise I might think it is spam and delete.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MS AMERICANA: THE PALACE

By Thom Gall

 

            Sugar Town.

            “Hello, Jimmy,” Ms Americana said softly, baby blues narrowed.

            The legendary Queen of Justice stood in the mouth of the dark alley.  Her head was held high, 44DDs jutting out.  Red gauntlet gloved hands rested on well-rounded hips.  Long shapely legs were stuffed into red calf boots, with a white stripe up their fronts and a gold star on the sides.  Her costume was better known then the President: red, white and blue star-spangled and red and white stripped bikini.  She finished out her costume with blue choker, red star earrings, and a golden tiara.  Of course, the most important parts of her costume were the golden power belt -- that gave her super strength -- around her narrow waist and the blue, star-spangled mask hiding her true identity.

            “Ms Americana!” he yelped.  “I-I didn’t see you walk up.”

            “When it comes to me, Jimmy, you only see and know what I want you to see and know,” she said, taking a step deeper into the alley.  She looked the smaller man over with disgust written across her lovely masked face.  He was one of her best informants, when she could find him and if she paid him enough.  The more she paid, the more reliable the information.  “I have questions.”

            His eyes bugged out and he looked all around.

            “Are you crazy?  This isn’t our agreement, or how you contact me.  If I’m seen talking to you, I’m mincemeat.  This is Sugar Town, Ms Americana, not Uptown or Downtown.  Or the Golden Burbs.  Sugar Town, with its own laws and customs, dos and don’ts.  And you, Ms Bikini-clad vigilante, are DON’T numbero uno.”

            “A singular honor, I’m sure,” she said.  He looked ready to bolt.  She couldn’t have that.  The sexy super heroine needed him.  She needed him like she’d never needed him, or any man, before.  “We’ll be careful.  Besides, I didn’t have time to go through regular channels.  So, tell me, what went down last Saturday night at the Wade Mansion?”

            “What?  The society girl slumber party?”

            “Yeah, that’s the one,” she said, desperate to keep her raging emotions in check and sound reasonable.

            “Uh…well, a bunch of stuck up society girls decided to be ‘bad girls’ and go to a Sugar Town party,” he said.  Then he grinned fiercely.  “They got more than they bargained for, I reckon.  Hee hee.  Word is, they got drugged, banged and put on display in the meat market.”

            “Where are they now?”

            No one outside of Sugar Town ever saw them again.  It’s been six days.  Lydia threw that slumber party.  Lydia Wills and six of her closest friends.  She still couldn’t believe Lydia would be so stupid as to take such a terribly dangerous risk.

            “Working their tight round asses off, Ms Americana, as they should be,” he said.

            Ms Americana moved like greased lightning.  In a flash she covered the ten feet separating them.  The six foot one inch amazon lifted the rat-faced informant off the ground by his shirt collar, holding him high overhead with one hand.  At only five foot five, he had a lot of air between him and the ground.

            “I know each and everyone of those beautiful young women,” Ms Americana snarled between clenched teeth.  “Their parents are loyal supporters of super heroine activities and support groups.  One and all are pillars of Delta City society.  I intend to rescue their daughters, Jimmy.  And if you know what’s good for you, then you will tell me where to find them.”

            “Jesus, Ms Americana!  I didn’t do nothing,” he squealed.

            “Where…are…they?”

            He swallowed hard and looked around in terror.  They were alone.  Whether he was looking for succor or witnesses, she didn’t know.  But there was no one around to see him give information, or come to his rescue.

            “The Andrews, Johannson and Wellborn girls are working in Mistress Tabitha’s House of Joy,” he said.

            “Good start,” she said, blood boiling.  All three were perky blondes with big boobs.  Like Lydia.  She’d watched them grow up, since they all lived near her estate.  “Keep talking, Jimmy.”

            “Ok…uh…oh Jesus, I can’t think straight,” he whined.  Then, “The red-head…Heidi Hermann, yeah, well she got snatched up by Mr. Notorious, so is streetwalking with his stable of hotties on Cummins.  Oh, she’s a natural redhead, by the way.”

            Ms Americana shook the little weasel.  Violently.

            “The fact you know that disturbs me, Jimmy,” she growled.  “Keep talking.”

            “Oh, yeah…uh, that Willis girl…”

            “Wills.  Lydia Wills,” she interrupted.

            “Oh.  Ok, so she ended up with King Pimp at the Palace, along with the Hong and Ledbetter girls.”

            Ms Americana dropped Jimmy.  He hit hard and stumbled back against a wall.  He gave her a crafty, rat-faced look that she didn’t care for.  He was always considering angles, trying to make a profit out of everyone’s misery and misfortune.  He was a born and bred Sugar Towner.

            “That was a lot of primo info, Ms Americana,” Jimmy said with a mercenary glint to his beady eyes.  “It was worth a lot, dontcha think?”

            She eyed him with open distaste.  He was small and greasy, vile and repulsive.  And she was sure he partook of at least Heidi Hermann’s erotic pleasures after she was forced into prostitution.  She wanted to thrash him within an inch of his life.

            “What did you do to the Hermann girl?” Ms Americana said.  When he tried to bolt, she grabbed him by the balls, and squeezed.  He squealed like a 10 year old school girl.  “Tell me.”

            “Nothing bad, just missionary!  And a little BJ,” he gasped desperately. 

            “And which other girls?” she asked, heart pounding.  <Please not Lydia.>

            “T-The Hooong girl,” he groaned in agony.  She squeezed harder still.  “And the…oh…Willis girl….aaaaaaaiiiiiieeee….and…and…the Ledbetter girl.”  He paused to retch to the side, careful not to get any on her.  “That’s all.  Mistress Tabitha don’t like me, so…”

            “Pig,” Ms Americana growled and tossed him aside, to plow into a pile of rancid trash.  Flag Girl had dealings with Jimmy, so Lydia must’ve been doubly disgusted to be forced to spread her shapely legs for him.  How horrible for her.  “I ought to…”

            “Hey, I had rights,” he said.  “All’s fair in Sugar Town, and you know it.  It was their own fault coming here.”

            When she lunged for him, Jimmy scrambled out of the trash and raced down the alley.  She watched him vanish into the nightshadows.  For a brief instant she wanted to chase him down and punish him for molesting Lydia.  But there would be plenty of time for that, AFTER she rescued her lovely young ward and super heroine protégé.

            Then she heard him calling back to her, voice tainted with anger, “You owe me, Ms Ameri-bitch.  And after what you just did to me there is no more info until you pay me triple.”

            She slanted a haughty, dismissive look back his way.

            Walking back out to the street, she paused at the end of the alley.  If she went right she could walk to the House of Joy in less than two minutes.  It would be easy to rescue those three young society beauties.  Heidi was working Cummins, which was a long street running through the middle of Sugar Town, and was out of the way from the two brothels that were on the edge of Delta City’s most notorious red light district.  But, The Palace was a good fifteen minute walk from her location.

            <Lydia’s at the Palace,> Ms Americana thought.  That was enough.  She could go to the House of Joy and Cummins Street anytime.  Her priority was to save Lydia.  So Ms Americana turned left and strode purposely.  <Besides, if I rescue any of the other girls, King Pimp would likely hide Lydia, Nancy and Vanessa.>

            Of course, she understood that if she rescued Lydia, Nancy and Vanessa, then Heidi Hermann, Babs Wellborn, Brianna Andrews and Jamie Johannson would most likely vanish before she could save them.  She couldn’t help feeling guilty, but her first responsibility was to Lydia, then the other girls.

            Hookers, pimp, pushers and other clandestine shapes vanished as she approached them.  The furtive shapes and movements at the edge of her vision were the most troubling.  They annoyed her whenever she visited Sugar Town.  Though, they have never shown any kind of threat to her, or even grown enough backbone to reveal themselves.  <Sneak thieves.>

            The news Jimmy gave her was the worst imaginable.  The Palace was Sugar Town’s most popular, largest and most vile brothel.  King Pimp ruled there like a medieval king, with all the working girls his slave/whores.  The Palace also specialized in providing the finest, most beautiful and rarest girl flesh for its clientele.  Indeed, rumor said he only worked the cream of society girls -- heiresses, former TV and movie actresses, and especially the beautiful daughters of the city’s leaders.

            As Brenda Wade’s ward, perky blonde beauty Lydia fit the profile perfectly.

            Ms Americana covered the fifteen minute walk to The Palace in ten.  In her dark mood, she rather enjoyed watching the frightened Sugar Towners scatter at her determined approach.  Soon, she approached the ten story former hotel.

            The statuesque super heroine stopped a block away, studying the infamous brothel from the night shadows.  It was barely 10 o’clock, so still early in the brothel’s night time business.  Indeed, The Palace never closed.  It was open for business 24 hours a day.  The girls inside each had their own room.

            She scowled.  King Pimp was reputed to have over two hundred girls working in the Palace at any given time, with close to five hundred living and working The Palace.  He also had a baker’s dozen other brothels scattered across Sugar Town.  He bragged that he had two thousand girls working their asses off for him.

            And now Lydia was one of them.

            “You’re going down, King Pimp,” she growled.

            The building was a former ritzy hotel, with a ten story central tower and two side wings of five floors each.  King Pimp’s personal residence occupied the top three floors of the tower.  The two wings were where the girls plied their ancient trade.

            “Damn,” she muttered, angry with herself.  Jimmy had “visited” Lydia, so knew the exact location of her room.  She should’ve discovered that information before letting him escape.  “How am I going to find her in that?”

            The alarm would be spread the instant they saw her coming.  The especially valuable girls would likely be ushered away into secure rooms if not out of the building.  Ms Americana doubted she would find Lydia, or any of the lost society girls.  She could, of course, wait until the wee hours and sneak in through the roof.  But that would mean Lydia spent another evening sucking, fucking and otherwise playing fuck toy to despicable whoremongering men.  And that was unacceptable.

            So she only had only one choice.

            Ms Americana smiled.  She had to strike straight at the man himself.  King Pimp.  Captured him and she could negotiate the release of Lydia, Nancy and Vanessa.  Indeed, she might even empty that hateful place!  What woman in her right mind wouldn’t want out of that evil place.  Sure, a few would choose to stay.  But she was sure the vast majority would eagerly follow her to freedom and good, clean living.

            Moving a half block closer, she was able to discern much more about the crowd in front of The Palace’s main entrance.  And she was shocked.

            “Green Spectre?” she muttered in confusion.  “Wait, isn’t that Solar Woman?  What is she doing in Delta City?  Heh, that’s Jungle Babe’s costume, but that definitely isn’t Jungle Babe.”  Then she saw her.  “Ms Americana!  That whore is dressed up as ME?”

            And it wasn’t a very good imitation, either.  First off, the whore’s hair was brown and too short.  Secondly, her costume was WAY too skimpy.  Even super heroines had limits to the skimpiness of the costumes the public would accept, and they would accept a lot of exposed skin, too.  But that was too much.  Besides, she did not wear red thigh boots, or opera gloves and the tiara was all wrong.  Then she spotted another Ms Americana whose costume was close to perfect, except the girl was African American.

            “So, it’s super heroine day at the Palace,” she said, grinning.  “How lucky am I?  And how unlucky is King Pimp?”

            It took Ms Americana another twenty minutes to slip around to the side, and ease up, and then casually blend in with the super heroine themed whores.  The girl she slipped up next to was a petite Asian girl dressed as Azure Angel.  She gave a double-take when she first noticed the newcomer, but before she could dwell upon the oddity of another girl appearing out of nowhere a junior pimp directing things called her over.  She started gushing over an elderly white man, who was apparently one of her regulars.

            There were ten girls on Ms Americana’s side of the main door, including herself.  She was horrified to discover she was one of three Ms Americanas in that line.  And the two she’d spotted earlier were over on the other side.  So there were four whores pretending to be her while they whored themselves.  The thought made her ill.

            CLAP!  CLAP!

            “Listen up girls!” a tall redhead in a white Playboy bunny costume and bunny ears called.  She alone wasn’t wearing a super heroine costume, but was dressed just as sexy as the others.  She recognized her as the Playboy Playmate of the Year from two years back, Bethany Beavers.  Born and raised in Delta City, she created quite a stir by posing for Playboy, then becoming Playmate of the Year.  “Play time is over.  Time to get to work making our men happy!”

            The men cheered that pronouncement.  The whores all smiled and giggled and some even jumped up and down clapping their hands happily.  Ms Americana was barely able to plaster an insincere smile on her masked face as she followed the other girls through the main doors.

            The opulent entry surprised her.  This was her first time to enter King Pimp’s domain.  That thought surprised her.  He’d operated this facility for over ten years, becoming filthy rich and very influential.  He had enough city and police officials in his pocket she didn’t think it practical to tear into him and cripple his operation.  Her time and energy was best used elsewhere.  Until Lydia fell victim to his vile operations.

            <He won’t be able to buy his way out of the ass whipping I’m going to give him,> she thought with a true smile as she passed the redheaded Playmate of the Year turned head whore at The Palace.  Rumor said Bethany Beavers was also King Pimp’s girlfriend.

            The Grand Stairs were twin curving white marble stairs to either side of the entrance.  The floor was checkered black and white marble, with an enormous crystal chandelier above.  The room was packed with scantily clad women, not all in super heroine attire.  Only the hookers were super heroine costumes.  The wait staff and such wore mostly black uniforms - women French mail uniforms and men tuxedoes.

            “Get your tails moving,” Miss Beavers called, swatting Ms Americana’s firm round hiney.  “Stay in character and make His Majesty proud!”

            Easily ninety percent of the whores turned either left or right and headed for the “parlors.”  From her understanding of The Palace’s operation, the girls congregated in one of eight parlors, four in the first floor of each wing.  Each parlor had a different theme - SM bondage, stripper club, Catholic school girl, etc.  But apparently they were all super heroine themed tonight.  But a line began to form at the elevators, while some girls with rooms on the second and third floors headed for the stairs.

            Ms Americana headed for the stairs as well.  She was a superior woman, more than capable of walking up the stairs to the tenth floor if necessary.  But she figured she’d go up to the third or fourth floor, and then take the elevator to King Pimp’s residence.  Of course, she was tempted to visit each of the parlors looking for Lydia, Nancy or Vanessa.  If she found one, she was sure that girl could lead her to the other two.

            The shapely super heroine considered it too dangerous.  She needed to separate herself from The Palace’s debauchery as quickly as possible.  She would stand out if she was forced to start declining men’s offers to go upstairs.  And of course, she had no place to take them if she accepted.  No, the security within The Palace was too tight to risk exposure.

            Ms Americana paused at the top of the Grand Stairs and looked both ways.  First thing she spotted, and it surprised her, was a mirrored dome.  A security camera dome.  Security was tighter than she realized.  Then she spotted the tuxedoed pimps huddled between the stairs.  And she recognized two of the four pimps from the streets.  She’d chased both off the streets, never realizing they just went to work for King Pimp.

            “Heh, Americana,” a familiar voice called.  It was one of the pimps.  He was waving for her to come over.  “Hurry up, bitch.  I got a client waiting.”

            It was Jerome Johnson, street name JJ Rod.  JJ Rod was six four, two hundred fifty pounds of muscle.  He was very dark skinned, with a shaven head, though back when he worked his own girls he had a big Afro.  Like the other pimps, bouncers and even Bethany Beavers, he wore a headset with boom mike.

            “Who?  Me?” she said, mind racing to come up with a suitable excuse why she couldn’t go with him.  She started backing away toward the nearest stairs next to the elevator on the south wing.  “I’m on my…uh…way up to His Majesty.  I can’t dally down here with clients.”

            “His Majesty?” he said, surprised.  He suddenly paused, then tapped the headset.  “Gotcha, Your Majesty.  Oh, I have a girl here in Ms Americana costume coming up to see you.  Mind if I borrow her for a job?  Thanks.”

            Ms Americana stared at him in horror.  Her baby blues darted up to the silvered dome hiding the security camera.  Was security zoomed in on her now?  Was she acting suspiciously?  How quick could King Pimp evacuate The Palace if her presence was discovered?  And would she ever find Lydia afterwards?

            “His Majesty said I can use you,” JJ Rod said, grinning.

            “Oh…I…I see,” she said.  All four pimps were looking at her curiously.  So she decided to pretend to comply, but not actually go to the waiting client.  “What room?”

            “The Honeymoon Suite,” JJ Rod said, walking up and taking her by the upper arm.  “Let’s go.  He’s waiting, and not very patient.”

            He walked Ms Americana past the other three pimps and into a hallway behind them, straight into the heart of the central tower.  The central tower held all of the specialty rooms.  She had no idea what it meant for a client to be in the Honeymoon Suite, especially how that connected to the super heroine theme of the night.

            “His name is Clyde Clements,” JJ Rod said as they walked at a brisk pace.  “He just got out of prison this week.  Ms Americana sent him there fifteen years ago, and he wants her tonight.”

            “I don’t know about that,” she said, seeing a way out.  “He sounds dangerous.  He’ll hurt me.”

            It wasn’t easy for her to act the weak, helpless bimbo.  But it was her only hope.  She couldn’t prostitute herself.  And she couldn’t defy King Pimp’s minions either.  She had to go undetected until she struck.  It was hers, and Lydia’s, only hope.

            “Don’t worry,” JJ Rod said.  “He understands he cannot hurt His Majesty’s women.  He just wants to satisfy his fifteen year old burning desire to put Ms Americana back in her proper place.  He just wants to fuck Ms Americana, but he’ll settle for a whore dressed like her.”

            “No,” she said.  They were outside the door now.  Her heart was racing.  She was being forced into something she just couldn’t do.  It wasn’t part of her psyche.  Ms Americana wasn’t some bimbo fuck toy.  She was a superior woman, and could not belittle herself by whoring herself to a man, much less to an ex-con she’d sent to prison.  “It’s too dangerous.”

            A cruel smirk crossed his dark face.  He thrust her at the door, then opened that door.  Ms Americana spotted the middle-aged man sitting at the edge of the bed.  His face lit up when he saw her, then his greedy eyes raked her shapely body head to toe, several times.  His prison issued street clothes were ill-fitting, and he hadn’t shaven in days.  Mostly, his disheveled hair and stubble was grey.  He kinda looked like a vagrant.  She didn’t recognize him.  Fifteen years was a long time, and she’d sent thousands of men to prison in her crime-fighting career.

            “I’ll be right here listening to everything,” JJ Rod said, plugging into a jack.  “If he goes too far, I’ll be inside in an instant and toss him out.  He paid for a full hour, anything goes.  You just make sure he has a good time, bitch.”

            With that, JJ Rod placed his hand at the small of her back and shoved her inside.  She was left horrified and mind spinning.  If he was listening in, then she couldn’t use her superior wits to outwit the hapless ex-con and get out of having sex.

            “Hello, sir,” Ms Americana said, throat tight.  She had to stall him, while not sounding like she was stalling, until she could figure out how to get out of this predicament.  “I’m Ms Americana.”

            “Damn, you make a great Ms Americana,” he said.  He looked her over again as he stepped up to her.  She stepped back until her back was pressed against the door.  Then he reached up and caressed her bikini clad tits, very gently.  She gasped nonetheless.  “Of course, I wish you were wearing the costume she had fifteen years back, when she sent me away.  But the newest costume will do.”  He laughed cruelly.  “It ain’t going to stay on long anyhow.”

            Her baby blues dropped to his hands as they reached up and took hold of the fastener between her 44DDs.  Her mind shut down completely.  She couldn’t think of anything to get out of his dark sexual desires without betraying her true identity and jeopardizing Lydia’s fate.  In a flash he unfastened her top and her legendary, milky white globes poured out and jounced enticingly before his lusty, greedy eyes.

            “Oh!” she cried as he seized both titanic tits and sucked her left nipple into his mouth.  A jolt of pure pleasure ripped through her body, going from nipple to groin.  Even the abrasive feel of his stubble on her silky soft breast skin was a turn-on.  Seconds later, she felt her pussy starting to moisten.  Then he swirled his tongue around her nipple and pinched the other.  “Aaaiieee…ooohhh.”

            “I like a whore who clearly enjoys her job,” Clyde said, then rubbed his stubbled cheeks back and forth across her unprotected, tender breasts.  She gasped and clutched at his head, but didn’t push him away.  “I ain’t never seen any whore enjoy it more than you, or start enjoying it so fast.”

            She felt her face flame.  So shameful.  So terribly shameful to enjoy such sexist, such disrespectful treatment.

            Clyde spent a full twenty minutes sucking, licking and fondling the sexy super heroine’s perfect 44DDs.  Within just a few minutes her body was heating up.  After ten she was afire.  After fifteen minutes she felt pussy juices seeping through her bikini bottoms and dripping down her inner thighs.

            At the end of the first twenty minutes Ms Americana was panting.  Her knees were weak.  Then he reached one hand down, and slipped it up under her bikini bottoms, and found her hot, wet twat.

            “Great Liberty,” she gasped.  Just touching her cunt pushed her right to the edge.  Ms Americana couldn’t believe she was so aroused.  And aroused by such a physically and emotionally repulsive person.  He was an aged, harden criminal, her blood enemy, and he was driving her crazy with need and pleasure.  “I can’t take this any longer.”

            “You have no choice, Ms Americana,” he whispered in her ear, then curled a finger up deep into her vagina.  She gasped and groaned, eyes wide.  He smiled as her knees buckled.  “Ah, good idea.  Suck me, Ms Americana.  Eat my dick, bitch.”

            She couldn’t take any more breast or pussy fondling, caressing and such.  Ms Americana understood that completely.  She doubted she’d last another minute before he ripped a debilitating climax out of her treasonous body, and that could possibly totally de-power her belt.  The sexy super heroine needed time to recover.  So red-gloved hands reached out and unzipped the ex-con.

            <Ack,> she thought, hit by the stench of his unwashed cock and balls.  <Just the stench of this ought to kill my growing ardor.>  She pulled both cock and balls out, surprised to find his cockhead sticky and dripping with pre-cum.  Even his hairy balls had pre-cum smeared on them.  She felt her ardor dissipating, but knew if she hesitated she wouldn’t be able to do it.  And if she couldn’t suck him, then he would return to stimulating her breast and pussy, if not go strait to fucking.  So Ms Americana, the Queen of Justice, reached out with her tongue and guided his rancid cock into her mouth.  “Uummmmggghh.”

            Ms Americana fought desperately to suppress her gag reflex.  Whores were professionals, so didn’t gag on cocks.  But how many cocks were that foul and disgusting?  So the Queen of Justice spend long minutes concentrating on giving him intense head, not so much to give him pleasure but to CLEAN off his toilet-tasting, skanky cockhead.  By the time she considered him cleaned, Clyde was gasping and clutching desperately at her silky black hair.

            Realizing if he came in her mouth now, he would still have more than half an hour to molest her tits and pussy, Ms Americana pulled away from his cock head and smiled sultrily up at him.  He was panting and sweating, and smiled back down at her.  Then she lifted his rock hard cock and starting licking his balls.  Licking led to sucking balls, which led to Clyde moaning and groaning again.

            “Suck me,” he gasped.  “Suck me all the way in.  Now.”

            “Okay,” she said, displeased.  He still seemed rather too excited to handle that much stimulation.  But she did as ordered and took him into her mouth.

            Clyde watched his erect dick slowly swallowed by the woman he hated more than anyone else.  The sight of her ruby reds encircling his thick cock was inspirational.  The feel of her hot, wet mouth was heavenly.  Each thrust plunged deeper and deeper.  After just two minutes she was able to take the full length of him, with several inches diving deep into her throat with hardly any gag reflex now.

            He looked lower, and saw her nipples were rock hard and fully erect.  She was the only woman in his life to ever become fully aroused by sex with him.  He decided right then to stay in Delta City and become a regular at The Palace, and one of this whore’s regulars too.

            Clyde was at the brink.  He was fighting it, wanting to make the pleasure last and last.  But a quick glance at the clock showed he still had thirty-five minutes with her.  So he relaxed and let nature take its course.

            <No!,> Ms Americana screamed in her head.  She felt his body change and knew he was about to climax.  About to cum in her mouth.  “Hhhmmmmmggghhhh.”

            His fingers tightened in her hair, and held her still as he thrust deep into her throat.  A second later, his milky cum started spurting down her throat.  After two spurts, he relaxed his hold and pulled halfway out, releasing more cum across her tongue.  That allowed -- forced -- Ms Americana to actually taste his jizm.  She swallowed as he pulled completely out, and shot another wad cross her glossy red lips.

            “Mmm,” she said, licking off the cum and swallowing without thinking first.  A second later, she felt her face burning as she realized what she’d done.  “Great Liberty, I enjoyed that.”

            “I noticed,” Clyde said, snickering.  “You are the most wanton whore I ever visited.”

            That was like a gut punch.  Ms Americana knew she was feeling wanton.  She didn’t want to admit it, even to herself.  It was too disgusting and distressing to contemplate.

            “Take off your panties and lay down on the bed,” Clyde said.  He started removing all of his clothes.  “Time to get completely naked and go wild on each other.”

            Ms Americana removed her red, white and blue bottoms with dread and walked over to the bed.  She climbed onto the bed and lay on her back.  Without thought, her mile long legs spread and her gloved hands crept up to gently squeeze her breasts.  Clyde jumped onto the bed, between her legs and promptly shoved them wider.  Then he fell on top of her, with a big shit-eating grin.

            His faced plunged into the deep crevasse of her cleavage.

            The naked super heroine’s beautiful face screwed up in distaste and discomfort.  His course stubble was very abrasive, very painful, on her soft skin.  She groaned and writhed beneath him until he was satisfied and then he slid lower.  Much lower.

            “Oh!  Gentle,” she said when his rough fingers plunged into her vagina.

            “Gentle my ass, bitch, you like it rough,” he said.  “You’re cunt’s sopping wet already.”

            There was nothing deft or skillful in Clyde’s technique.  He fingered fucked her until she started bucking beneath him.  Her hands clutched at his shoulders and she stared off into space with an incredulous look on her masked face.  The ex-con enjoyed every second of it.  Never had he so completely dominated a woman sexually.  She was putty in his hands and he knew it.

            Despite his ineptitude, Clyde was starting to rock Ms Americana’s love boat.  Within seconds of plunging his fingers into her vagina she began feeling that erotic ache, that burning tingle deep in her belly, centered on her clit.  He never once touched the clit and she was sure he didn’t know enough to find it.  If he ever so much as touched it, it would be instantaneous climax she was wound up so tight right then.  It took all of her crumbling will power to hold the orgasm at bay.

            <Must be strong,> she repeated to herself over and over.  <For Lydia.>

            The clock showed he had another twenty-five minutes.  She began to despair.  Even her desire to fight off the climax was starting to melt away.  Part of her really wanted that climax, to feel that almost forgotten thrill of ecstasy.  It had been so long, so terribly long.

            <Great Liberty, I’m slipping,> she thought as he started sucking and licking her 44DDs again, still finger-fucking her relentlessly.  <Have to think disgusting thoughts.  Have to cool my libido before I’m ruined.>

            Her first thought -- the stench and taste of his cock at the very beginning.  Unfortunately, that thought had the opposite effect, making the burning tingle flare up and spread.  She could feel sweat beading and dripping off her body.

            “I think you are ready,” he said, and knelt between her legs.

            “Ready?”

            “To be properly fucked, Ms Americana,” he said, grinning lecherously down at her body.  “I’ve been waiting 15 long years for this moment.”

            Her hot, pink tongue licked her upper lip as her baby blues locked on his cock.  She watched in morbid fascination as that cock was guided straight to her needy cunt, pushed past the engorged lips and plunged a good six inches into her vagina.

            Ms Americana’s eyes rolled up and her back arched.  Her hands clutched the brass headboard and she wailed.

            “Uuuuuuuuggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

            Clyde rode the super heroine themed whore for all she was worth, not realizing he was really fucking the one and only Ms Americana.  The very object of his darkest desires.  And she was fucking him back.

            “I’m going…going to….cuuummmmm,” she cried.  Then, the orgasm exploded between her legs and ripped through her shapely body.  “Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!”

            Her pussy muscles clenched and quivered, sending incredible sensations of pure pleasure to Clyde.  Within seconds he lost control and spurting his thanks deep inside her pussy.  But he kept right on pumping.

            A minute later, Ms Americana climaxed again.  “Uuuuaaaaiiiiieeeeeeeeee!”

            During the second climax, and immediately afterwards, she felt her super strength bleeding away.  She was barely able to have a coherent thought, but her mental state was too discombobulated to accurately judge how much super strength she retained after two climaxes.

            “Great Liberty, Clyde,” she gasped, feeling another climax building even faster than the second one.  “I thought you just got…uggh….got out of prison.  How can you possibly have so much…hhhmmm….endurance.”

            He grinned wolfishly.  “Viagra.”

            With that, he pulled out.  Flipped the stunned super heroine over onto all fours atop the bed, then mounted her doggie style.  Two minutes later, Ms Americana climaxed again.  Twice in quick succession.  Then he seized her titanic tits and pulled her upper body up so he could play with his new toys.

            “Uuuhhggghh-aaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeooooooowwwwwwww!”

            KNOCK!  KNOCK!

            “Time’s up, Clyde,” JJ Rod called through the door.

            “Give me a second to clean up,” he called, and FINALLY pulled out of the devastated super heroine.

            “Ooooooo,” she moaned, exhausted.  “I’ve never…..Ooooo.”

            Clyde smacked her on her naked ass cheeks as he left, leaving her moaning face down on the bed.  JJ Rod came in and grinned evilly at her.  She managed to pull herself together a bit, not liking his look.  He was enjoying pimping her off too much.  She’d put him out of business once, and vowed to do it again.  As soon as she found Lydia.

            “Get dressed, Americana,” JJ Rod said, tossing her costume on the bed beside her.

            Ms Americana crawled off the bed and got to wobbly feet.  He handed her a damp hand towel to clean up with.  She never felt so dirty and disgusting in her life, but she was grateful for that scant help from the sleazy pimp.  Then she pulled on her bottoms and finally her top.

            “Good enough,” JJ Rod said when she paused to plump her 44DDs just right.  Then he grabbed her left wrist.  She rolled her eyes, expecting to be dragged to her next “john,” but instead he snapped on a pair of handcuffs.  Shocked, she didn’t respond fast enough, and he got her other wrist cuffed as well.  “Ah, Ms Americana never looked better.”

            “What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded, heart pounding so hard she could barely hear, much less breathe.  She tugged on the steel cuffs in vain.  Before Clyde forced numerous climaxes out of her helpless body, and thus de-powered her, she could’ve broken those cuffs.  But not now.  She was completely de-powered.  The Queen of Justice realized she was helpless and totally at JJ Rod’s mercy.  And pimps were not known for their mercy.  “Why did you handcuff me?”

            “Next client,” he said, dragging her out of the room and heading straight across the hall.  They stopped outside that door.  “Okay, Americana, this guy’s paid out the wazoo for an hour with you.  Same as Clyde, anything goes.  Except he wants a little roll playing.”

            “Roll playing?”

            “Yep, you are, of course, the mighty and undefeated Ms Americana brought down,” JJ Rod said quickly.  “He is playing a powerful crime lord.  I will present you to him, to do with as he pleases.  Now, he’s hired two other girls -- Mai Ling and Courtney.  He’ll have them molest you while he watches.”  He opened the door, “Boss, I have Ms Americana here for you.  We just captured her.”

            Ms Americana was horrified.  It was Lieutenant Jason Hardgrove, head of the Vice Department.  He was big and burly, with no neck and a gray-speckled flat top.  She’d had many, many run-in with him and his men.  They were reputed to be on the take, and if not on the take then at least incompetent.  Vice was rampant within Delta City.

            “Very good, Igor,” Jason said.  “Mai Ling and Courtney will take her from here.”

            Mai Ling was about five six, with long arrow straight black hair, parted down the middle.  She wore a red silk “Chinese” gown with high collars and golden dragon designs.  Courtney Rocks was familiar to Ms Americana.  She’d busted her dozens of times, when she worked for such pimps as JJ Rod, Kid Rotten and Pimp Daddy.  Despite being drop dead gorgeous, the green eyed blonde was as skanky, kinky as they got.  She was one of the women who whored because she LOVED it.  Courtney was dressed for the street in red bustier, black mini, fishnet stockings and red stiletto pumps.

            “Ah, Ms Americana, at last we meet,” Jason said as the two whores each took one of Ms Americana’s arms.  Courtney immediately unfastened the bikini top so that the super heroine’s tits came tumbling out.  Again.  Then Mai Ling’s delicate hand slipped under the bikini bottoms.  “I will enjoy watching my girlfriends reduce you to a heap of panting slutmeat.”

            “You bastard,” she gasped, because Mai Ling found her hypersensitive clit and began to massage it.  “Oooooo, Great Liberty.”

            The Queen of Justice found herself in a dire predicament.  Despite, or due to, the sound fucking she received from Clyde, and the following rough treatment by JJ Rod, her libido was enflamed her and her body was primed for sex.  Now she was helpless and in the power of two beautiful, professional prostitutes who knew more than how to please a woman.

            As Mai Ling pressed hard, rubbing her right in every way, Ms Americana rose up on her tip toes, which wasn’t much in her five inch stiletto boots.  Courtney began sucking and caressing her tits just right.  Not too hard, not too soft.  Just right.

            After several minutes of this, Courtney bent her over backwards.  Mai Ling kept up her relentless assault on Ms Americana’s clit.  The heat and pressure was building fast, and she knew she couldn’t resist the two of them for much longer.

            <Must be strong,> she thought.

            Courtney cupped her chin, then turned the sexy vigilante’s head to face her.  Ms Americana’s eyes locked on Courtney’s a long moment, wiping all thoughts from her mind as she look at those burning, hungry eyes.  Then Courtney’s full red lips parted and she leaned forward.  Ms Americana’s lips parted.

            “I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” Courtney whispered.

            <Is everyone in this city waiting to molest me?>

            “Mmmmmmm,” they both groaned as their lips met

            The kiss was firm, hungry and erotic.  Ms Americana lost herself in it.  And within seconds she realized her mistake, for she lost the battle to control her own body.  Mai Ling was in command now, and she wanted to pull a climax out of her charge.  And pull one out she did.

            “Uuugggggggghhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm!” Ms Americana cried into Courtney’s mouth.

            The Queen of Justice fell to her knees.  Courtney immediately pulled off her skirt, revealing garter belt and hose and totally shaved pussy.  She straddled the stunned and discombobulated super heroine, and guided Ms Americana’s face straight into her own pussy.  Ms Americana was surprised, but started licking immediately.

            Courtney rode Ms Americana’s mouth for ten minutes, getting two orgasms out of the ride.  Then Ms Americana then had to perform cunnilingus on Mai Ling.  That took the better part of thirty minutes to finally break through the hard whore and get a climax.  After that, the remainder of the hour was spent on her back on the floor, with Mai Ling eating her out, while Courtney ate out Mai Ling and Ms Americana ate out Courtney.

            It was well past midnight when she stumbled out of that room.  Thankfully, JJ Rod was no where to be seen.  She smiled, knowing she had a clear shot at King Pimp now.  No one to stop her.  No more dallying with johns.  No more whoring.  It was time to make King Pimp pay for the humiliations and indignities suffered by her that night, and by Lydia, Nancy and Vanessa.

            Making it to the south elevator bank, she pressed UP and waited.  Five long minutes later, the door opened and the elevator was empty.  She smiled and stepped on.  Then pressing 10, she stood by the door and tried to steel herself.  It wasn’t easy.  Her belly was still quivering and her knees weak.  Ms Americana hated to admit it, but she’d had the best sex of her life.  Of course, that meant she was completely de-powered.  It could take days, or weeks, to regain her lost super powers.  But after the last two hours, she figured sexual daydreams would quickly build up her sexual frustration and pent up energy.

            DING!  And the elevator rattled to a halt.

            “That was fast,” she said, looking up.  The doors opened as it registered she was only on the seventh floor.  King Pimp occupied the top three floors, which rumor said was an opulent penthouse that any billionaire would be proud to live in.  When her eyes dropped, she saw former Playboy Playmate Bethany Beavers smiling at her.  “Oh, Bethany.”

            “It’s about time,” Bethany said, reached out and seized her right wrist and pulled her off the elevator.  “I was about to go upstairs and find out where my Ms Americana was, and when she’d get here.  You’re running late, missy.”

            Ms Americana was rushed into a large parlor.  At least that was what she thought it was, until she saw all the men there.  Tuxedoed pimps.  And they were sitting and talking shop, enjoying drinks and sports on the big screen TVs scattered around the room.

            “Break room?”

            “Yes, so you’ve never been up here before to entertain?” Bethany said.  “From your dazed look, I guess not.”  She laughed softly.  A pretty laugh.  “You’ll be even more dazed when you leave, darling!”

            With that ominous statement, Bethany pulled off Ms Americana’s top.  Then she removed the hapless heroine’s bottoms.  Finally, she pushed the sexy super heroine over to the closest pimp, JJ Rod.

            “Bon appetite, boys,” Bethany said, laughed and left.

            “I can’t do this,” Ms Americana said hoarsely.  JJ Rod’s big black rod was already out and hard.  She gazed at it a long second, then swallowed hard.  Her body was already preparing itself to be impaled on that massive tool.  As she recalled, all of JJ Rod’s girls were very pleased with him.  Now she understood why.

            JJ Rod took her by the hand and pulled her before him.  Her eyes widened and her head spun out of control.  She couldn’t speak as he pulled her onto his lap, so that her aching cunt was barely an inch above his wobbling cock.

            “Mount up, babe.”

            He placed both hands on her well rounded hips and pulled down.  Hard.  She didn’t resist, watching breathlessly as his big black cock penetrated her pretty pink pussy.  As he pushed deep into her already well used vagina, she remembered he kept his women pliable with frequent sex.  All of his girls wanted to be his.  Now she truly understood why.

            “Greeeaat Liiibeeerrtyyy,” she groaned as she slid down his shaft.

            “So sweet,” JJ Rod said breathlessly.  “I’ve wanted to fuck you for years.  More than any other woman.”

            The other pimps were watching them with rapt attention, gleeful lechery in their eyes.  She didn’t care.  It felt too good.  The best she’d ever felt.  He was so big, so impressive.  JJ Rod totally filled her up, with cock to spare.

            “I’m loosing myself,” she whispered.  He reached up and took her tits in hand, starting to play with those massive melons.  “So good…too good…can’t resist.”

            “Like I always said, all we needed to do was cock whip Ms Americana into submission and she’d do anything we wanted,” JJ Rod said.

            “Yeah, yeah, she was begging for it in that sexed up skimpy costume and fuck me heels,” another said.

            “I could break her on my cock,” another said.  “Of course, she’d be easier than most with her snooty attitude hiding her inner whore.”

            “Yeah, yeah, those super heroine bitches break the fastest.”

            Ms Americana wasn’t paying attention to the junior pimps.  She was lost in cock heaven, bouncing up and down on his monster cock.  SQUISH-SQUISH!  Up and down.  Up and down.

            “Uuuggghhhh,” she groaned wantonly.  “Oh, JJ!”

            “What do you want, Ms Ameri-slut?”

            “Fuck me.”

            Her whole body was a-tingle.  Sweat poured off her shapely body.  Ms Americana was gasping loudly with each bounce up and down his cock, her monster tits bouncing even more dramatically.  She was building toward climax extraordinarily fast.  This time, she wasn’t fighting it at all.  She WANTED that orgasm.  She needed it, badly.

            “Now I know why they call you JJ ROD,” Ms Americana cried, then lost it.  “Uuughh…Oooogghh….Aaaaaaaaaiiieeeeeeeeeeee!”  She took another breath, and bounced up and down the full length of his cock and climaxed again.  “Aaaaaaiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!”

            JJ Rod made her continue until she’d climaxed five times, then he forced her to her knees between his legs.  He slapped her beautiful, masked face a couple times with his still hard, sticky wet cock.  Then she took matters in hand and started giving him intense head.

            “Oh, yes, Ms Americana, you raging slut whore,” JJ Rod said.

            She couldn’t take the full length of his monster rod into her mouth, but she more than made up for it by licking it with wild abandon from cock head to balls, then sucking on his balls.  In less than five minutes she brought the jaded pimp to a mind boggling climax, sucking all his cum down with moans of pleasure.

            Then she moved one over to the next pimp.  His cock wasn’t as big and impressive as JJ Rod’s cock, but he was well endowed and gave her immense pleasure for well over fifteen minutes, then she was passed over to the next pimp.  He pushed her to the floor and forced her to all fours.

            “I like doggie style best,” Mr. Cocks said.  He was another pimp Ms Americana tangled with.  Indeed, she thought she’d chased him out of Delta City just three weeks back.  She’d actually been forced to surrender with a threat to kill a poor girl.  But they didn’t remove her power belt and before he could stick his rancid cock into her she broke free and kicked ass.  That wasn’t going to happen this time.  “Ready or not, here I come.”

            “Uugghhh,” she grunted when he rammed his cock into her cunt.  “Oh, Mr. Cocks.  Mercy.”

            There was no mercy to be had.  Mr. Cocks was just encouraged to fuck her even harder.  The other pimps laughed as they watch their most hated enemy being fucked long and brutally by one of their number.  Then one of the other pimps got horny and couldn’t wait, so dropped his pants and stepped before Ms Americana.

            Ms Americana was pulled up to her knees by her hair.  A big, black pre-cum dripping cock was thrust in her face.  Dazed and confused, she licked her lips and opened wide.  He mounted her mouth with relish.

            “Mmmmmmnnnggghhhh,” she groaned.

            “Look at this slut go!” he cried, watching her start sucking with enthusiasm.  “What a raging slut you are, Ms Ameri-Whore.”

            “Hmmmm,” she said, eyes closed and savoring the moment, tastes, smell and erotic heat consuming her statuesque body.  <Good,> she thought.  <Slut.>  “Uuhhhmmmgghhh.”

            Ms Americana took their verbal abuse but kept sucking and fucking.  She didn’t care what they said, as long as they didn’t stop fucking her, didn’t stop giving her extreme pleasure.  Pimps came and went.  She spent hours in the break room, mostly either sucking or fucking pimps, but sometimes forced to lap dance and even pose for nude photos once.  Until she passed out.

            “What?” Ms Americana said, startled awake.  “Where am I?”

            “The break room, stupid,” Bethany said.  She looked weary and a bit annoyed.  “You fell asleep?  No one woke you up when they all left?”

            Ms Americana looked around.  She was alone with Bethany in the break room.  The former Playmate of the Year was still wearing the white bunny suit, but Ms Americana noticed at least two cum stains.  Also, the bunny’s crotch was soaked through with what she suspected was cum leaking out of her heavily fucked pussy.

            “No.  They left me, I guess,” Ms Americana said, feeling a bit foolish and abused.

            The beautiful redhead helped her up, then fetched her bikini top.  Ms Americana found her bottoms, and slipped them on first.  The press of the soft cloth against her cunt was incredible.  She’d never been so hypersensitive before.  The high and mighty Queen of Justice felt her skin gooseflesh and a tremble wash through her overworked and overheated body.

            “Go back to your room,” Bethany said wearily and headed for the door.

            “Wait, I have to see King Pimp,” Ms Americana said.  “It’s urgent.”

            Bethany hesitated at the door, slanting a calculating gaze upon the shapely and extraordinarily beautiful super heroine.  She pursed burgundy lips and considered a long moment.

            “Why?  Can’t it wait?”

            “No, it’s of utmost importance I see him tonight,” she said firmly.

            She frowned, hesitating long enough Ms Americana feared she would be thwarted again.  It would be so much easier if The Palace’s head whore just took her straight to King Pimp.  She was already starting to make alternate plans to get into King Pimp’s quarters when Bethany’s eyes wandered up and down her spectacular body.  The beautiful redhead bit her lower lips, then smiled sultrily.

            “Come with me, darling.”

            She took Ms Americana by the hand and led her to the elevator.  While waiting, Bethany’s hands began to explore Ms Americana’s curvaceous body.  Normally, she’d toss anyone so forward and audacious across the room.  But she was hot and bothered, and Bethany’s delicate, feminine hands felt wonderful on her overheated body.  Face to face, they snuggled and kissed until the elevator arrived.

            Once on the elevator, Bethany pushed the 9 button.  Ms Americana smiled.  She would’ve thought 10.  So she would’ve wasted valuable time on her own.

            Before the elevator car began to move the beautiful redhead was all over Ms Americana.  Their smooching quickly became impassioned.  Bethany pushed her right hand under the ravishing super heroine’s bottoms, and made a beeline to her clit.

            “Aayyy,” Ms Americana gasped, her body suddenly tense.  If felt too good.  “Uhh, Great Liberty, that’s soooo good.”

            Bethany kissed her way down Ms Americana’s slender neck, and to her 44DDs.  The top snapped open, yet again, spilling out her legendary melons.  Bethany’s touch, hand, lips and tongue, were deft and all extremely invigorating sexually.  The former Playmate of the Year knew exactly how to push Ms Americana’s buttons, exactly how to touch and caress and massage to get the quickest and most intense results.

            “Aaaaaaaggghhhhhhh,” Ms Americana groaned sensuously, her back arching so that she was bent over backwards.

            Only Bethany’s firm hand held the oversexed super heroine up.  The Queen of Justice knew she was outmatched, for Bethany was playing her superb body like a fine instrument.  When the elevator doors DINGED she didn’t care.  She just wanted Bethany to keep on keeping on.

            “This is MY pleasure, Ms Americana,” Bethany said, almost viciously as she pressed into her charge’s clit.

            Ms Americana’s body jolted with an intense jolt of pure electrical pleasure shooting out of her clit and to all corners of her curvaceous body.  She hadn’t even realized she was teetering on the edge of a soul-numbing climax until Bethany expertly pushed her over the edge.

            “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwgggggggghhhhhhh!”

            Ms Americana screamed, and screamed, and screamed again.  That climax wouldn’t let up.  It sucked the life out of her.  It left her spent and panting in Bethany’s arms.

            “Through that door,” Bethany said, pointing to a set of ornately carved oaken double doors.  “Better hurry, he’ll be leaving shortly.”

            “King Pimp,” Ms Americana whispered, trying to pull herself together.  She still had to deal with the leader of this bunch of miscreants and malefactors.  True, she was de-powered and exhausted, but he didn’t know that.  Just the threat of a visit by Ms Americana was enough to cause most men to hyperventilate.  “Yes, I have to finish this business.  Tonight.”

            Taking a deep breath, Ms Americana walked out of the elevator on only slightly wobbly legs.  Her heart was still hammering from all of her trials and tribulations of that evening and night.  Bethany left her mind reeling, with strange yearnings for the expert touch of other women.

            <How many hours have I been working my way up to this confrontation?> she thought, not able to discern the answer.  She had to force her mind away from thoughts of Bethany.  It wasn’t easy, but she had more important business right then.  <I’ll have more than enough time to rest once Lydia is safe at home.>

            There was no one between her and King Pimp now.  Ms Americana was confident she could threaten and bully him into complying with her demands.  Lydia and the other two young women would be released.  They then would leave.

            Pushing the double doors open so that they banged open, Ms Americana strode in like the Queen of the World.  Directly across the room, in an oversized silver throne, sat King Pimp in a dark blue silk dressing robe.  He was a huge black man at six foot seven, with a large afro that made him look even taller.  His massive frame was sheathed in thick muscle, no fat to be found.  His dark brown eyes narrowed at her.

            “Anthony Patrick, A.K.A King Pimp,” Ms Americana called.  “I’ve come to retrieve the three society girls you forced into prostitution last weekend -- Lydia Wills, Nancy Hong and Vanessa Ledbetter.  I demand you hand them over to me immediately, or you will certainly suffer the consequences.”

            “My, you are even more beautiful and impressive in person,” King Pimp said.  His intense eyes ran up and down her shapely body several times, a mercenary smile claiming his face.  “You will make a fine addition to The Palace’s stable of beauties.  I expect you to become my top earning girl within the week.”

            Ms Americana’s belly clenched, then butterflies exploded deep within.  Her breathing became labored as she tried to show a firm, resolute face despite her pounding heart.  But his voice was deep and commanding, and so confident.  Her cunt ached and she had to fight her inner demons.

            “You don’t understand your precarious position, King Pimp,” she said, with only a slight tremor in her voice.

            “I understand everything far better than you know, Ms Americana,” King Pimp said, grinning.  Then he pointed behind her and up.  “Look.”

            Ms Americana cut a swift look over her left shoulder.  Then did a double take.

            “Great Liberty!  What have you done to me!”

            “I’ve filmed every single moment of their erotic journey through The Palace with hidden cameras and microphones,” he said.  “Up to and including that last trip up the elevator with Bethany.”

            On the wall behind her was a baker’s dozen HD TVs mounted to the wall.  Twelve, six on each side of the door, were 50” flat screens.  The thirteenth was mounted directly over the door, and was a 75” flat screen.  On the biggest screen in the middle was a paused close up of Ms Americana.  A huge black cock was just inches from her slightly parted red lips, with a thick rope of cum connecting them.  She had a look of utter sexual bliss on her masked face, which was dripping with cum as well.

            He punched a button on his remote and the picture started moving in slow motion.  She watched in morbid fascination as her tongue thrust out, swirled around that dripping rope of cum and then watched as her full red lips opened wider and engulfed that big black cock.  Then she sucked and licked the cock clean, before licking her lips clean and smacking contently.  Then she noticed all the other TVs were showing other sex sessions she’d performed that night, with paying customers and pimps.

            Watching those sexual encounters on the TVs brought all the memories, all the feelings and emotions back full force.  She gasped and groaned, her hands dropped to her pussy mound and breasts.

            “Tomorrow I’ll send that out to my production company to edit and divide up into porn films and shorts for peep shows,” King Pimp said.  “By the end of the week you will be a internationally renown porn star.”

            Whirling around, she stared at him openmouthed.

            “You can’t do that to me!  I’m Ms Americana, a role model of young girls and women around the world,” she said.  “You’ll destroy their beloved heroine.  You’ll destroy ME.”

            “No, I won’t destroy you, I’m going to EMPLOY you,” he said, grinning.

            King Pimp stood and opened his robes.  Her eyes immediately fell to his monster cock.  It was the biggest yet, easily a foot long.

            “Great Lib….Oooo,” she breathed, her right hand pressed against her chest, fingers splayed.  “So big.”

            Ms Americana couldn’t breathe.  She took a step towards him and stopped herself.  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried valiantly to reclaim her wits while she still had a fighting chance.

            “I will not surrender to you,” she said hoarsely.  “I am a super heroine, not some sleazy slut for you to whore off to disgusting, whoremongering men.”

            He stepped down off the raised días and began stroking his cock.  It was starting to harden and rise.  Ms Americana backed up another step, unable to tear her eyes off his exposed manhood.

            <Think,> she said silently.  <Have to…think of…of….someth….>

            “I’m going to fuck you,” he said.  “I’m going to tame you.  I’m going to make you mine, willingly, even eagerly, mine.  The whore within has betrayed you, Ms Americana, and we both know you will lose this battle.”

            “No.  I can’t,” she whispered.  She couldn’t say anymore.  Her throat was too tight.

            “Then I am here.  Arrest me,” he said, holding his arms wide.  But his huge cock still stood at attention.  “Or drop to your knees and suck my cock.”

            Ms Americana took a deep breath and stepped forward.  She stopped just over a foot before him, his cock leveled at her midsection.  Just inches away, dripping pre-cum.  The lusty, hungry look in his dark eyes screamed supreme confidence.  He KNEW she would submit.

            The sexy super heroine closed her eyes and pressed her red gloved hands against her trembling belly.  She realized then that her hands were trembling too.  Then she looked down at his cock.  When she looked up again, he was smiling down at her.

            “Kneel.”

            Ms Americana fell to her knees before King Pimp.  Both hands reached out and gently took hold of his cock, the right hand just behind his cock head.  She leaned forward, extending her tongue.  A quarter of an inch from the head of his dick, her baby blues cut up and locked eyes with him.  Then the tip of her tongue curled up and licked the drop of pre-cum off his cock.

            “Mmmm,” she said, tasting King Pimp for the first time.  She knew it wasn’t going to be the last.  She’d make certain of that.  She pressed her full red lips to his cock, kissing his cock head loving, sweetly, feeling herself at the brink of climax.  “I am yours.”

            That admission sent her over the top.  “Aaaaiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!”

            The Queen of Justice’s red lips parted and sucked King Pimp’s massive cock into her mouth even as her climax still reverberated through her shapely body.  Then she rubbed his cock all over her face, kissing and nuzzling the shaft lovingly, hungrily.

            “Master,” he said.

            “I am yours, master.”

            While giving him intense head, Ms Americana’s right hand stroked his foot long shaft and her left fondled his equally massive balls.  He buried his huge hands in her silky soft, shimmering black hair.  At the same time, Bethany moved up behind her and removed her Ms Americana bikini top.  But she never stopped, or even hesitated, sucking her master’s cock.

            Ms Americana was distressed.  He was so thick she couldn’t get much more than his cock head into her mouth.  She so wanted to swallow him whole.  The topless heroine wanted to give intense pleasure.  So she leaned even closer and pressed his long black cock deep into her cleavage and began titty fucking him.  After five minutes of that sensual delight he couldn’t hold it any longer, and sticky white cum fountained out of his cock.

            The super heroine squealed with delight, then wrapped her ruby reds around the end of his cock to catch the rest.  She didn’t want to waste any of it.  Once he was through spurting his seed, she licked and sucked him perfectly clean.

            “Good girl,” King Pimp said, pushing her off his cock.  “Time to seal your fate, my dear Ms Americana.”

            King Pimp returned to his throne and sat down.  Bethany helped Ms Americana to her feet, then removed the discombobulated super heroine’s bikini bottoms.  Then she led Ms Americana up to King Pimp.  With Bethany’s help, the Queen of Justice was quickly impaled upon King Pimp’s freakishly long and thick cock.  Without being told, she began sliding up and down his shaft, coating it with her pussy juices.

            “Great Liberty!  Oh!” she cried, head throw back.  “So good!  So…so…..GREAT!”

            Ms Americana had never felt so alive.  She was on fire, bursting with sexual energy and passion.  It was like she’d just been reborn.  Everything felt sensuously invigorating, like the way her leg muscles flexed and her 44DDs bounced.  She loved the feel of her long, silky hair bouncing and caressing her shoulders and back with whispery softness.  Then she reached up and tweaked her own nipples.

            “Uuugghhh,” she groaned.

            “Take off the gloves,” King Pimp said.

            Ms Americana obeyed without thought.  Then she raked her super soft breast flesh with her long red nails.

            “Take off your mask,” he said.

            “Oh,” she said, eyes wide.  He would know her then.  She would truly be lost, truly be his sex slave, his fuck toy.  If he discovered her real, everyday identity, she would be forever bound to him in abject servitude, with no power to protect herself ever again.  She would be utterly helpless and vulnerable.  “No…please….”

            He took her face in both hands.  Her heart skipped a beat, thinking he would unmask her.  But instead he kissed her.  Long and hard.  Melting her resolve and inhibitions.

            “Take off the mask.”

            “Yes, master.”

            She reached up with both hands.  As she did so, King Pimp seized both of her titanic tits and began to expertly caress and massage them.  Her baby blues closed as she groaned in pure pleasure.  She felt her ardor rising, building, cresting.  Her fingers touched the familiar mask.  Ms Americana opened her eyes and looked into his eyes.  His triumphant eyes.  He was so majestic in his victory.  She smiled and pulled off the mask.

            “You look familiar,” he said.

            “Brenda Wade, master,” she said.  She started bouncing faster, harder.  “I am Brenda Wade.  Lydia Wills’ legal guardian.”

            “Lydia?  The blonde…FLAG GIRL?”

            “Yes, master.  Lydia is Flag Girl.”

            With that Ms Americana burned her bridges and betrayed her dearest friend.  Something only a true whore would do.  And she climaxed.

            “Uuugggggggghhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” she cried.  Her cunt muscles quivered and squeezed, pulling him over the top as well.  She felt King Pimp fill her vagina with hot cum.  “Oh, master!  Oh!  Oh!  Yes!  YES!  Ohhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

            Finished, King Pimp pushed her off his cock and she crumbled at his feet.

            “All those years,” she whispered, hands pressed to her trembling belly.  “Everyone said I was a whore deep down, a repressed whore.  I didn’t believe.  Now I know.”  She looked up at Bethany, then King Pimp.  “I am a whore, and it feels right.”

            “Prove it,” he said.  “Prove yourself worthy to be with me.”

            She felt panic.  Would he send her way?  Would she never see him again?  Never fuck him again?

            “How, master?”

            “Get to work,” he said.  “I already have a client lined up for you.”

            “For me?” she said.  “As Ms Americana?  Or Brenda?”

            “As Ms Americana.  And yes, I’m fast,” he said.  “Soon, word will go out and the men will flock here to sample your bountiful charms.”

            With than, King Pimp stood up and walked out of the room.

            “Get dressed,” Bethany said, tossing her bikini back at her.  Ms Americana slowly put in on.  She was exhausted, and starting to feel the workout she’d had that night.  Then Bethany handed her the mask.  “Put this on.  He is hiring Ms Americana, after all.  Not some bimbo in a Ms Americana costume.”

            Once Ms Americana was presentable, Bethany led her by the hand to the elevator.  They dropped down to the fifth floor.  Then she took her to the room closest to the elevator, just inside the north wing.

            “This is your room from now on,” Bethany said.  There was a brass nameplate: Ms Americana.  The one and only.

            “But how?”

            “We knew you were coming,” Bethany said.  “You never fooled anyone.  I spotted you out seconds after your arrived, and His Majesty was already tracking you with external cameras from two blocks out.”

            “Oh.”

            “It’s amazing you lasted as long as you did as a super heroine,” she said, shaking her head.  “It was almost too easy to capture and tame you.  Hell, you cooperated one hundred percent the whole time.  Just handed yourself over to us on a silver platter.”

            “I see,” she said, head hanging.  “I guess I am just a dumb bimbo whore.”

            “Of course,” Bethany said.  She waved to indicate her sexily skimpy costume.  “You’ve be BEGGING for it, begging to be mastered and put in your place for years.  Everyone in the sex industry knew it, and just wondered who would finally prove strong and crafty enough to take you and make you his.  I knew King Pimp would ultimately be the man to do it.”

            “I see,” Ms Americana said softly.

            Bethany shrugged.  “The Real Ms Americana’s first paying client is inside.  He is paying three hundred dollars for the rest of the night.  Make sure he is COMPLETELY satisfied in every way.”

            “Yes, mistress,” she said, causing Bethany to smirk.

            “Ah, get to work,” Bethany laughed, swatting her firm, round hiney.

            Ms Americana smiled meekly and opened the door.  One step inside, and she stopped dead in her tracks.  Stunned speechless.  She could only stare in slack-jawed surprise.

            “About time, Ms Ameri-whore,” Jimmy the Informant said, grinning victoriously.

            “How?” she said.

            “How what?  How did I get to be your very first PAYING client?” he said.  She nodded.  “Easy, I watched you leave the alley, figured out where you were headed, and ran ahead.  After I sold my information to His Majesty, I was granted a boon, so to speak.  I got to buy your services.  First.”  His face was pure wicked glee.  “I get to initiate you as a hooker, so to speak.”

            “Complete satisfaction guaranteed,” Bethany said from behind Ms Americana, and then closed the door.

            “Its three hundred dollars,” she said.  “Up front.”

            He didn’t hesitate.  He pulled out a sizeable wad of bills, and peeled off three crisp Benjamins.  She took the money, licked her dry lips, and nodded.  Placing the money on a side stand, she removed her bikini and climbed onto the queen-sized bed beside her first ever john.  Beside the man that sold her up the river.  The informant that betrayed her.

            “I paid for all night, anything goes,” he said, cupping both of her titanic tits.

            She’d never seen anyone look at anything with such a sense of wonder as Jimmy looking at her tits.  Then he buried his face in her cleavage.

            “Anything you want, Jimmy,” she said.  She looked around the room, wondering where the camera was located.  The sexy super heroine turned prostitute knew with certainty that King Pimp would not miss watching and recording the Queen of Justice’s first trick.  “I’m yours the rest of the night.”

 

THE END