by Don Ship
Ms Patriot groaned again as Burt increased the rate of his pussy pounding. He was clearly overexcited and about to blow his load. She squeezed her pussy muscles, trying to get him off as fast as possible. The longer she delayed her own climax the better. She feared that once she started climaxing, she wouldn't be able to stop.
Burt suddenly pulled her hair, forcing her to rise up on just her knees, her back painfully arched to accommodate his fucking. Then both arms came around and seized her boobs, beginning to maul then with animal intensity. He then buried his face in her thick black hair, alternating between nibbling on her ear and sucking on her slender neck.
The bastard is giving me a hickey! she thought.
"Sweet Justice!" she cried. He was now pounding of her cunt harder than she believe possible. He was pushing her up against the brink of no return. Her resolve was crumbling from the intense pounding, the pleasure so intense she just panted and stared into space wide-eyed. Then it passed that beautiful point, and ecstasy came crashing down on her perfect little world. "I can't…ugh…stop itttt! Uuugggggggghhhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
"YES!" April cried.
"Bingo!" a man cried. "I picked the time it took! I win the pot."
Burt kept up the pounding, in and out, over and over, and sucking real hard on her neck. Squeezing her tits painfully hard. He was about to blow.
"Ugh," Burt cried. "Yes!"
Ms Patriot felt her vagina filled with cum for the second time that night. This time though, it was more profound. It pushed her over the top yet again.
"Aaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!" she cried. "Great Freya, these miscreants are going to tame me."
Burt held her in place until his cock finally stopped spurting and went limp. Then he pulled out and released her. And gave her firm round rump a sound slap.
"Ouch!"
Everyone laughed as April helped Burt up and held his hand up high, like he'd won a boxing match or something. Ms Patriot scowled at them, still panting on all fours. She felt the sweat dripping off her titanic tits, felt the air conditioned air on her sweaty body.
"It is going to be a long night," she muttered.
"Not as long as my dick, Ms Patriot," Joe said.
The exhausted super heroine slanted a weary look over her shoulder. Burt's friend, Joe, was moving up behind her. His cock was out, and it was long.
"Oh great, a bigger stick to beat me into submission with," she said.
"I don't want you fighting your orgasms any more, Ms Patriot," April said. "I agree, that makes them bigger and more powerful, but the guys love to hear you scream out in pleasure. So relax and let your body do what it was born to do. Fuck."
"Oh, you vile little monster," Ms Patriot growled. "I'll get you for this someday. Mark my words."
"No you won't," April said as she caressed the heroine's face. "We're going to prove to you and the world what a raging whore you are at heart tonight. After tonight, I suspect you will give up the costume and start walking the streets to satisfy your sex addiction."
Ms Patriot could only gawk in horror at the sexy stripper. If she were tamed, that was exactly what would happen. King Pimp, if not one of the other pimps, would quickly put her sweet round rump to work whoring. If they tamed her, she lost the wager. And Patriot Girl would join her on the mean streets of Sugar Town as a skanky hooker.
I have to be strong!
Joe mounted her pussy in one smooth move. He was all the way in her in seconds, without any resistance.
"Yes! I'm really fucking Ms Patriot! Someone take my picture!"
Everyone but Joe froze. Until that moment photography hadn't come to mind. Everywhere she looked men were reaching in their pockets for smart phones. Seconds later a flash burnt at her eyes. Then another, and another. They were all taking still pictures and video.
"I'll be right back," April said, and rushed off stage. Moments later she returned with a camcorder and set it up quickly. "Yes, I'm going to post this video on my website, boys. Tonight, Ms Patriot becomes a bona fide internet porn star!"
# # #
"Uuunnnnnn," Patriot Girl groaned around The Kidd's thick cock.
"God, this bitch has a tight ass," Carlos said. "This is the best night of my life, dude."
Patriot Girl could only groan. She was strapped down tight in a bondage playstation. It was a padded sawhorse-like thing, that she was laid face down atop. Her legs were secured to the back legs of it by steel bands above and below the knees, and around her booted ankles. Likewise, her arms were bond just above the elbows and at her wrists on the front legs. The sexy sidekick couldn't move more than an inch in any direction, so she was held almost motionless while the pimp and pusher double teamed her, front and back.
A dozen cameras were filming it all. Both of the men fucking her were wearing masks. They had a lot planned for her that night, before Ms Patriot arrived.
Dishonorable miscreants! she thought miserably.
No sooner had Ms Patriot left with the john than King Pimp himself had slapped her awake and forced her to suck him off. Then she was forced to sexually pleasure each and every one of the twenty malefactors present, plus their bodyguards. And that was before they left that old tumble down building.
They had lied to Ms Patriot. They had no intention of honoring their side of the deal. When Ms Patriot showed up, they had a surprise for her. She would be gassed into unconsciousness and tied up. Then they would repeat what they were doing to her, to be culminated with an on-camera unmasking of them both.
# # #
Ms Patriot whipped her head around, lustrous black hair flying. She stood with her red gloved hands pressed against the mirrored back wall of the main stage, then slanted a come-hither look over her shoulder at the gawking men and women. All she wore was her mask, gloves, and boots. Then she winked, and spun around before starting a sexy strut across the stage to wild cheers, her boobs bouncing enticingly. All to Sheena Easton's "Strut, pout, put it out" blasting.
"That's what we want from Ms Patriot!" the crowd cried to the music.
The sexy super heroine struck a sultry pose at the edge of the stage as the song ended, men's hands stroking and grabbing at her mile long legs. Her body gleamed with body oils and the sweat of three hours of dancing and fucking. There wasn't a man in the room that hadn't had her in at least one orifice of her spectacular body. Strangely, most of the men just wanted to play with her tits, then get a blowjob.
She slanted a questioning look at April. The sexy blonde stripper was her "pimp" now. April decided what she did, when she did it, and who she did it with. She was selling lap dances for a hundred dollars a pop. Of course, these lap dances always involved sex with Ms Patriot while everyone watched.
"Who is next?" April called. A dozen hands flew up, all holding one hundred dollars. April walked over to the table front and center to the stage, and took money from a big burly man at that table. "He's next, Sugar Tits."
Ms Patriot nodded and stepped over onto the table. It wobbled dangerously beneath her stiletto-heeled feet for a brief second. Then she dropped to her knees, boobs bouncing as her john gawked at them.
"What's your pleasure, master?" Ms Patriot said. April forced her to say that.
His name was Homer Hughes. All she knew was he was an off duty bouncer at another club. This would be the fourth time he hired her tonight. He'd already violated every orifice of her body, so she wasn't sure what he wanted this time.
"You," he said, eyes so hungry it made her body start to tingle. He pulled her off the table and onto his lap. Straddling his lap, she felt his bulging cock pressed against her aching cunt. "One last fuck for the road. I have an orgy to go to. Don't want to be late for that."
"How nice, an orgy," she said, not really caring but she wanted him to be as nice as possible to her. Some of the men were cruel and hurtful. She was helpless, so had to gain their friendship if possible. "I envy you."
"Really?"
"Hmm, yes," she said, noticing
April cuing the DJ to start up the music. "Well, lap dance time. You want the dance? Or do you just want to fuck me?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Do you want to go to the orgy with me?"
Ms Patriot's blood surged. For a second she felt dizzy. Could he really get her out of there? Would he? There were a lot of horny men there, and April would not give up her cash cow easily. Indeed, Ms Patriot was wondering if she might not spend a few years there, whoring for April.
In a day or two I might not want to leave, she admitted to herself. The sex was great. She loved it, despite hating to admit it even to herself. I am such a slut.
"Well?"
"Yes," she said timidly. "But I'm not sure you can get me out of here."
"Watch me," he said, and stood up. He signaled to April. "Where's her costume?"
"I have it," she said warily.
"Give it to her. I have to leave after this, so I want something special," he said. Then he indicated the middle of the room. "Clear the tables and people out of the middle of the room. I want to sit up on stage like a king or something, then have her crawl all the way up to me and beg me to fuck her. I want a big production, and I am willing to pay for it if she can pull it off."
"Oh, she will pull it off," April said, a mercenary glint in her eyes. "I promise you that."
While Ms Patriot put on her costume for the first time in hours, April supervised the preparations. It felt good to be clothed again, even if it was only by a bustier and short-shorts costume. Unfortunately, her power belt gave her nothing. All of her pent up sexual frustrations were fucked out of her, so it could be hours, if not days, before she would recover.
Once dressed, Ms Patriot was led over to the front door and turned around to face Homer up on stage. He grinned and nodded. She dropped to her hands and knees, and began crawling.
"No! That's not it. Sexier."
She tried again, and was stopped again. This time he jumped down and walked over to her.
"April, she doesn't know how to crawl sexily. Show her," Homer said. "I've seen you do it. It's perfect."
"Oh, thanks," April said, flattered. She dropped to all fours. "Watch this and learn, Ms Patriot."
The stripper began a slow, sensuous crawl that got everyone's attention. Even Ms Patriot was mesmerized by the sight, but then Homer seized her hand and pulled her out the front door. They took off running, hand-in-hand. They were around the corner before anyone came rushing out of the titty bar. Ms Patriot heard April cursing furiously.
"That was fun," Homer said. Then, he commanded, "Come with me."
"Oh great," she whispered. Another command. He led her away hand-in-hand. "Where are we going?"
"Club Depraved," he said. "I work there. There is an orgy in the VIP area tonight. I have a ticket for two, me and you, babe."
"How exciting," she said, horrified.
It's not all bad, she thought. Club Depraved was a BDSM club deep inside Sugar Town. Going there took her out of her way, but that was par for the night. But she'd gone to an orgy once, when she was an eighteen year old coed and exploring her sexuality. It proved to be mostly a feel her up fest. Little sex actually happened, though she did get more action than any other girl there. I'll obey his command by going in, letting them feel me up a few times. Then first chance, I'll get away from him and get the hell out of there. Then finish this godforsaken task King Pimp thrust upon me.
Though Homer was a skanky sex industry goon, as a bouncer in Sugar Town, he seemed halfway decent. And she had escaped the titty bar, at least. And, most important, she was not tamed. Not really, she thought. Came close a couple times there, but she was still mistress of her destiny and in full control of her faculties.
I can still come out victorious.
It took fifteen minutes to get to Club Depraved from the titty bar. It proved further out of her way than she thought originally. That was fifteen minutes of walking through pimp and hooker infested streets, just to get back to where she was, after she departed the orgy. She wasn't sure what time it was, but it would probably be after daybreak before she reached The Palace at this rate.
Men and women in latex and leather mingled outside the club for a block in either direction. Some of the women were hookers, trying to get the men in bed after they left the club all horny. Ms Patriot knew a lot about how hookers operated, but couldn't imagine what a S&M or BDSM hooker would charge. Prostitutes liked quick in and out jobs. The more jobs the more money they earned. S&M and BDSM was time consuming. Those people were not the wham bam, thank you ma'am type people that hookers liked best.
Needless to say, the on-duty bouncers were a bit nervous about Ms Patriot showing up, but everyone else perked up. Since none of the patrons were scared she suspected nothing untoward happened here. It must be an honest business, even if it was a sleazy sex business. Obviously sex happened inside, otherwise Homer wouldn't have tickets to an orgy.
Professionally thrown orgies, how quaint, she thought, nose crinkled at the thought.
Homer spoke with the bouncers, then a manager, before he and Ms Patriot were allowed inside. She was shocked by what she saw inside. Everywhere she looked men and women groveled on their knees before dominant men and women. The submissives were all scantily dressed, if at all. Many were on leashes and collars. And worse, there were countless pieces of bondage playstations situated everywhere, especially along the walls, to chain, tie, or strap down men and women. Mostly women.
Ms Patriot's feminist soul cried out in outrage. She so wanted to chase them all out of there, to put the fear of God in them, but she had to maintain a low profile. Well, as low a profile as a costumed super heroine of legendary stature could maintain in such a place.
Thankfully, they only passed through a third of the downstairs, club proper. Of course, everyone stopped to gawk at her. She could tell many were arguing over if she was the real Ms Patriot, or just someone dressed up like her. But she didn’t see any other women there in super heroine costumes. And she knew there were sex and BDSM clubs dedicated to super heroine themes. Mistress Tabitha owned four that Ms Patriot knew about, at least.
The stairs to the second floor was guarded by another pair of leather clad bouncers. They barely gave her a glance before allowing them upstairs. Ms Patriot grimaced when they reached the top.
"Great Freya, it's worse up here," she gasped out.
"Not for the men," Homer said, chuckling.
There had to be ten women to every man, just to start. Most of the sexual activity she spotted was girl-on-girl. There were four spankings going on when she arrived, with dozens of mostly women tied up on sex racks. That didn't even count the dozens of people hogtied or otherwise bound on the floor scattered about.
"Kneel," Homer said.
Ms Patriot hesitated, seeing he was reaching for a leash and collar. She swallowed hard, having been giving a command she had to obey. Dropping to her knees as most of the eyes in the room turned to regard her in some surprise, she felt her face heat up in abject humiliation. It got worse when Homer buckled the thick black leather collar around her neck, and attached the leash.
"You will call me Master."
"Yes, Master."
"You will call all men and women not obviously submissives Master or Mistress, unless the command otherwise."
"Yes, Master."
Homer turned to the room at large. "Hiya, all. Looks like things are going well already," he said. He indicated his collared and leashed super heroine, kneeling at his feet. "As you can see, I have Ms Patriot as my personal sex slave tonight. And it is the real Ms Patriot, too. I don't know if she's been enchanted or otherwise forced to obey all commands given to her, but she is incapable of disobeying anyone. We're going to have a grand time exploiting that fatal flaw tonight."
"Yes!" they cried.
"Oh, Goddess," she groaned miserably. She realized she was much better off back at the titty bar where only April was controlling her.
"Good gracious alive
, it can't be," a familiar, frightening voice said full of evil pleasure. She swallowed hard as she turned to stared open-mouthed at the hated pimp. "Yes, it is Ms Patriot, that paladin of purity and virtue. What could she possibly be doing in a den of sex and depravity? Oh, could it be the Freya's Champion is here to get fucked? Fucked stupid? Fucked seven ways to Sunday? Tied up and fucked?"
"It would appear so, M-Master," she said, despite a too tight throat.
The pimp was Randolph Cox, called Mr. Cocks on the street. It was his "pimp" name. The pimp was six foot eight inches of muscle and attitude, who was proud of his ability to fuck spoiled white girls into being his hookers. She knew for a fact he sold the girls he was tired of to white slavers. There were no ex-Mr. Cocks hookers out there on the streets. She never knew he was into bondage and discipline.
"I like the sound of that. Master. Say it again."
"Master."
"Again."
"Master."
"Ah, the sweetest music is the world 'master' coming from Ms Patriot's sweet red lips when she is addressing me as 'Master,'" Mr. Cocks said, grinning viciously down at her. Then he turned to Homer and offered up a pair of leashes. One leash was to an absolutely gorgeous blonde in nothing but black thigh boots and collar, and the other to an equally gorgeous Latina in black pumps, fishnet stockings and lacy garter belt, and a collar, of course. Ms Patriot recognized Gloria Sosa, twenty-one years old missing daughter of very wealthy parents. The blonde was a cheerleader of the local professional team, named Kimberly Kinds. As both Ms Patriot and Jennifer Jade she'd been to charity functions at schools and hospitals with Kimberly. She vanished halfway through last year's football season, now Ms Patriot knew why and where. "Homer, old pal, want to trade for a while? I have issues that need to be worked out with pretty little Ms Patriot here, issues best conducted with my cock deep inside her body."
"Of course, two for one, how could I refuse," he said, handing over her leash to the hated pimp. "Besides, I've had her in every orifice of her body already tonight, not to mention a sweet titty fucking session."