Ms Patriot: Finding Her Bliss (Grimme City Super Heroines in Peril) (Grimme City Super Heroines in Peril Series)

by Don Ship

  Rubbing her temple, “What am I thinking? What have these S&M perverts done to me?”

  Pulling herself together with effort, the super heroine pulled a key out of her strapless, red and white vertically stripped, patriotically themed bustier top. As Jennifer she stole it during her third night as a bondage sex slave hooker, knowing she’d need it. This was the first opportunity she had to save herself, and she smiled at her foresight.

  “Opportunity knocks, but not Ms Patriot,” she whispered, grinning as she unlocked the door. She hurried inside, closed and locked the door. Then she quickly punched in the code on the security system. Her grin widened. Layla was foolish enough to not block Jennifer’s view of the pad when she punched in the code. She had an excellent memory for such little things.

  The empty building was creaking and groaning, as old buildings are wont to do. But this was a fairly new construction. Shoddy Sugar Town construction, apparently. So the shapely super heroine eased down the long, midnight black hallway. Once she reached the door into the main room, she got some light. About every fifth light was on up in the ceiling. It was just enough light to keep from bumping into the furniture. And it let Ms Patriot find the black painted door to the offices.

  “It’s locked,” she whispered, surprised. And then she thought of all the sensitive blackmail material in there. Of course it would be locked. “Not going to stop me.”

  Using her super strength, the Grimme City's top super heroine twisted the knob until it snapped. That didn’t unlock the door, so she kicked it open. Loud, but the streets of Sugar Town were deserted at that time of day, so no one was around to hear her.

  “Someone’s about to lose all of her power,” Ms Patriot said as she strode into the offices. After a month as an “employee” she’d learned a lot about Layla’s and Dorothea’s operation. More than half the sex slaves working there were being blackmailed into it. And they kept all of the blackmail material on one PC. The company server, that all of the club’s secret camera’s recorded into. Smashing the server wouldn’t be enough, though. Instead, she planned to steal the actual hard drive and take it back to the Ms Patriot Cave for destruction. The door to the closet the server was kept was unlocked, and soon the sexy super heroine was staring at it with a big grin. “Some days everything just falls into place.”

  “Yes they do,” a deep, gruff male voice said from right behind her.

  He grabbed her hair, yanking her head back brutally, then he punched her in the kidney.

  “Hey! Ugh!” she grunted. Then he slammed her forehead into the door jamb. “Ooff!”

  Ms Patriot’s knees buckled. He released her hair as she dropped to her knees, then lashed out with a foot to the side of her head. The voluptuous vigilante vixen was left woozy, writhing sexily before him on the floor of the server closet.

  “Oh, my head,” she groaned, baby blues fluttering open. She looked up to find — “Security guard?”

  “In the flesh, Ms Patriot,” he growled. He was six foot six, massively build, with a graying flat-top. He looked more like a Drill Sergeant than a rent-a-cop. She estimated he was about fifty, with a pot belly. His uniform came with a pistol, handcuffs, and a nightstick. He reached for the handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for breaking and entering. Just to start, I’m sure.”

  “And you’re an idiot,” she snarled, lashing out with a stiletto heel to the shin.

  “Aaaaaayyyyy! Bitch! That hurt,” he cried, dark eyes fierce as he pulled his nightstick.

  “Good. Turnabout is fair play,” Ms Patriot said, coming to her red-booted feet a little unsteadily. Ms Patriot threw a right at his face, that he blocked by hammering her forearm aside with the nightstick. “Aaaiiieee. That hurt!”

  “Good. What about this?” he said, and whacked her left tit with the nightstick.

  “Aaaaaaaiiiieee! Stop that,” she cried.

  “Surrender and submit, and I’ll stop hitting you,” he said, grinning viciously. “Super heroines. Psst. You slutty bitches ain’t shit.” He looked her up and down, with growing lust. “Tell you what. Fuck me, and I’ll let you go.”

  “Okay,” Ms Patriot said, and then stopped. Shocked she’d said it. What was wrong with her? What had Layla and Dorothea done to her? “I mean. Not okay. Ggrrrrr. You people are making me crazy.”

  “You got nipple peeking out,” he said.

  “What?” she said, looking down at her titanic tits. No nipple, but it was close.

  He laughed and whacked her on top of the head with his nightstick. “What an air-head.”

  “Ooooh. Uuugggh.” Ms Patriot fell to her knees before him, head down, and rubbing the knot atop her head. Oddly enough, the pain kind of turned her on. Or was it the fact he was getting the best of her so far, one might even say he was dominating her. The very thought made her cunt achy and hot, starting to release sticky, slippery pussy juices. “I’m sick and tired of you hitting me!”

  Ms Patriot leapt to her feet, and kicked him in the middle of his chest. The security guard flew back against the wall, bounced off and stumbled toward her. The statuesque super heroine backhanded him brutally, sending him spinning away across the cluttered office.

  As she stalked towards him, ready to end it by knocking him out, Ms Patriot’s baby blues fell on Lady Layla’s desk. The red glass bowl she kept capsules of Bliss in was on the corner, just above the rent-a-cop.

  “Hmm, I’ll teach him a wicked lesson,” she muttered as she plucked one capsule filled with the super-powerful aphrodisiac. Ms Patriot bent over, thrusting the capsule towards his nose. “Don’t forget to change your underwear, miscreant.”

  “No!” he cried, and lashed at her arm with the nightstick, striking her on the wrist and sending the capsule flying away.

  “Aaaiiieee. Oh, Goddess, why do you keep hitting me?” she cried, massaging her aching wrist. Her hand and arm up past her elbow was numb and unresponsive. The huge security guard rose slowly to his feet, eyes filled with malice. “Stay away from me.”

  He swung the nightstick at her head. Ms Patriot ducked and dodged. His vicious backstroke caught her on the right cheek and spun her around in a daze. He whacked her across the lower back, causing her to cry out in agony as she arched her back. The guard stepped around the sexy super heroine with wicked glee in his dark eyes, and brought the nightstick up brutally into her cunt.

  “Uggh!”

  He shoved the beautiful vigilante against the wall, and started whipping her boobs, back and forth, with the nightstick.

  “Stop!” Ms Patriot cried weakly. “I am a super heroine. I demand respect!”

  She dropped low, and the nightstick passed above her as she kicked out at his groin. The guard twisted just in time, and took the kick in the hip instead. He was forced back three steps, but lashed out with the nightstick as she charged him. She ducked under his nightstick, and came up with a right cross to his chin.

  The guard fell back and lay still, groaning low. “I’m too old for this shit.”

  “And I am young and in my prime,” Ms Patriot sneered, standing over him in a haughty super heroine pose. “Surrender, or else.”

  “I give up,” he said. She noticed the capsule of Bliss he knocked out of her hand. It was an inch from his left hand. But he moved his right hand, with the nightstick. Her eyes riveted on the right hand, expecting an attack. “If I give you the nightstick, will you stop beating me?”

  She almost sighed in relief. About time!

  “Only if you behave,” she said.

  “Deal,” he said, rising up to a sitting position, before slowly lifting the nightstick.

  Ms Patriot smiled smugly as she bent over him and reached for the offered weapon. As her red-gloved fingers wrapped around the shaft of the nightstick, he thrust his left hand into her face — and broke the capsule beneath her nose.

  The strong scent of roses filled Ms Patriot’s senses as her baby blues went wide in shock. In the second before the drug hit her with both barrels, the sexy super heroine understood he
tricked her. He drugged her with the most insidious drug of all. His tented pants showed her his evil intentions. And then a bitch taming orgasm exploded deep in her belly.

  “Aaaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhh!” she cried, head thrown back as she fell to her knees. Her hands clutched at her pussy as another climax claimed her. “Aaaaaggghhhh! Oh Goddess….I am tamed!”

  “Tamed and claimed. By me,” he sneered. He ripped her top off, and enjoyed how her titanic tits jostled before him. “Mmm, mmmm. You are a healthy girl, aren’t you?”

  Ms Patriot knelt panting, her body filled with liquidly heat, filled with lust and need and want. Her once powerful mind was ripped apart, and only her base instincts ruled her.

  “Fuck me,” she whispered hoarsely. Ms Patriot crawled over to him, threw both arms around his thick neck and kissed him long and hard. After a few minutes of heavy petting and deep kisses, she whispered in his ear. “Fuck me now.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, pushing the vivacious vigilante in red, white, and blue to her back on the floor. The old guard pulled her French-cut blue, star-spangled short-shorts down her legs, and tossed them aside. She spread her legs and started masturbating while waiting for him. “Man, you really can’t wait, can you?”

  “No. It’s been too long,” she gasped. “Oh. Oh. Feels so good. Oh. Oh yes. Please, mount me. Hurry.”

  He unzipped and pulled out his cock. Ms Patriot grabbed it, stroked it a few times, then guided him into her. They both groaned low and wantonly as his thick cock penetrated her slippery cunt.

  “Oh man, you’re so tight, Ms Patriot.”

  The sexy super heroine’s baby blues crossed as his thick cock filled her up, spread her achy, needy vagina wide. She was spread so wide it hurt really, really good.

  “Oh baby. Oh yes, baby,” Ms Patriot cried, starting to hump him back. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Faster! Oh yes! Yes! Yyyyyyyyyeeeeeessssssssssss! Aaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhh!”

  “I love Bliss,” he said, gasping as he manically humped the sexy super heroine.

  “Me, too,” Ms Patriot whispered. “I missed it. So good. So good to me.”

  The guard continued to fuck the beautiful, blissed out super heroine. It was a long-time fantasy of his to fuck Ms Patriot. Not that uncommon in Grimme City, actually. He kept his ultimate pleasure at bay as long as he could, but finally he filled her pussy with cum.

  “Oooooooh, yes. That was better than I dreamed,” he said, and pulled out to shoot his last two spurts across her lower belly. “I got to call the boss lady and find out what she wants me to do about you.”

  He stood up and stepped over to Layla’s desk. Before he had the phone to his ear, Ms Patriot crawled up to him, rose up on her knees, and took hold of his dick. She started licking and sucking it as he dialed.

  “Good girl, Ms Patriot. You keep up all the good work,” he said, grinning.

  “Mmmmmmmmggghhh,” she said, as she started deep-throating him. “Ngh. Uggnnh.”

  “Hello?” Layla said groggily. “Who is this?”

  “Stan at the club,” he said.

  “The security guy?”

  “Yes…oh…oh….ma’am,” he said, really starting to enjoy Ms Patriot’s efforts on his cock. “I have a…a….oh…a break in to report.”

  “What? What’s going on?” Layla said. “What’s wrong with you? Who broke in? What did he take?”

  Stan struggled to compose himself. He didn’t want the boss lady to have a bad impression of him. He loved working there. More often than not, if he came in a little early to work, he’d get laid by some hot young thing. Best benefits of any job he ever had.

  “Ms Patri…Ms Patriot broke into your office,” he gasped out. “I caught her in the server closet, but managed to subdue her.”

  “You subdued Ms Patriot?”

  “Yes. With…with…Bliss,” he gasped out. “Oh man, she’s sucking my dick right now. She is incredible.”

  “Wow! You have Ms Patriot blissed out right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Unmask her. Unmask her now,” Layla demanded. “Tell me who she is.”

  Stan licked his lips, blinked at Ms Patriot’s face as she bobbed up and down his shaft. The red mask came into focus. Her eyes were closed as she sucked him off. Her bouncing tits distracted him, and he felt his cock grow a bit harder.

  “Unmask her,” Layla demanded. “I’ll give you a bonus. Big bonus.”

  “Yes. Unmask her,” he said, reaching for Ms Patriot’s face. Her eyes opened then, and she hesitated in her head bobbing. His thick fingers touched her mask. “I’m unmasking her now.”

  “Hgghhh?” Ms Patriot said, her dazed and confused mind trying to make sense of something that frightened her deep down. Why was being unmasked bad? So hard to think with a beautiful, delicious cock in her mouth. She started sucking again. “MMmmmmm.”

  Stan struggled to force his thick fingers under the edge of Ms Patriot’s mask. She stopped sucking again, a confused look claiming her baby blues. He smiled as the double-sided tape finally gave and two fingers slipped under the edge, and emerged through the eyehole.

  “Let’s see who’s hiding behind the mask,” Stan muttered as he started to pull. The double-sided tape was strong, and pulled her skin up as he peeled it off slowly. Ms Patriot gasped, eyes wide as she instinctively pulled away. Within seconds the mask was off and she knelt before him, staring up at him with a befuddled look. “Wow.”

  “Who is it?” Layla demanded. “Tell me!”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But she is gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone prettier.”

  Ms Patriot smiled. He was so sweet. And his dick was still hard, so she started stroking it. Rising up on her knees again, the blissed out costumed vigilante opened wide and swallowed his cock to the hilt.

  “Hmmmmm.”

  Layla got his attention. Apparently she’d been talking before he noticed. “…be there as quickly as possible. Remember, do not call the police. I’ll take care of Ms Patriot personally.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I keep her here for you,” Stan gasped out.

  “Hmm, yes,” Layla said. “Just keep fucking her, and Ms Patriot will willing stay right there. Blissed out bimbos don’t do much thinking.”

  “Yep. We’ll be waiting,” he said, and hung up. Then he grinned down at his sexy little plaything. He pulled the tiara off and tossed it aside. “Take off your gloves, bitch, and the belt. I want your entire costume as a victory souvenir.”

  Ms Patriot kept sucking his dick as she pulled off her red opera gloves. Then she removed her power belt, tossing it aside. While she did that, he removed her blue choker. Finally, he pulled her up and threw her face-down on Layla’s desk.

  “Stay,” Stan said, and collected every piece of her costume, placing it all in the plastic grocery store bag he brought his lunch to work inside. Then he stepped up behind the naked super heroine and placed both hands on her satiny smooth, firm round butt cheeks – and spread them open. “People say that I am an anal asshole. Let’s find out just how anal I can be.”

  “Uuuuuuuugggggggghhh,” Ms Patriot groaned, writhing beneath him, as he pushed deep into her butt. “Hurts so good. Oooooooh.”

  Stan began a slow stroke, in and out of her super tight butt hole. Ms Patriot grunted and groaned, moaned and sighed. Soon, she was panting and making tiny pathetic noises of utter pleasure. The sexy super heroine slowly pushed her shoulders and upper body off the desk, as Stan was mesmerized by the sight of how her butt cheeks quivered every time his hips slapped into them.

  “So good,” Ms Patriot cried, starting to whip her head back and forth, up and down, shimmering long hair whipping all about. Stan tightened his grip around her narrow waste as he started fucking her ass harder, faster. “Oh Goddess! You’re the man! Oh yes! SO GOOD…OOH! OH! I’m going to — Aaagggghhhhhhhhh!”

  As she screamed in ultimate pleasure, Stan climaxed, too. But he kept on pumping.

  “Yes! Yes! Aaaaaggghhhh!” she cried, and threw her head back
as Stan bend down to grab her tits from behind.

  “Ugh!” he grunted, the back of her head smashing him in the face. Stan stumbled back, dazed. Then his loosened belt fell around his ankles, and tripped him. His head struck Dorothea’s desk and it was lights out.

  “Baby?” Ms Patriot gasped out, still on the desk and confused as to why he wasn’t fucking her anymore. She wasn’t ready to stop. “What’s the matter, baby? Where are…oh. Are you hurt?”

  Stan didn’t respond. Ms Patriot slipped off the desk, and tried to wake him. All she got for her efforts was a snort. He would not wake up.

  Ms Patriot stood up on wobbly legs and stumbled into the main room. It was dark and empty. Well, even when the club was open the room was pretty dark. Empty room meant no fun for her, so she went to the front door. It took her discombobulated mind a few minutes to figure out how to unlock all of the locks, but soon she was staggering down the pre-dawn street. A loud alarm began whooping as she rounded the corner at the first intersection.

  Ms Patriot got another block before a SUV came to a skidding stop beside her. It was filled with young men. Her heart leapt into her throat as liquidly heat filled her up. She smiled hungrily at them.

  “Hey, girlie, are you a whore?” the driver said.

  He was young. College age, in fact. Then she noticed him, and all of the other boys, were wearing frat t-shirts.

  “Frat party!” Ms Patriot cried, and shook her giant tits at them.

  “Are you a hooker?” he asked again. “We’re looking for a hooker, or several hookers for a party.”

  “I’m your girl,” she said, grinning lecherously. As for being a hooker…she recalled lots and lots of men paying for her body at Club Depraved. And in the past, she’d been caught by more pimps than she cared to recall, who all put her to working hooking. “I’m the best hooker in Sugar Town, baby.”

  “Get in,” he said, and a back door opened up.