Ms Patriot- Blissful Fate

by Don Ship

  "I'll give you one month from Patriot Girl's return."

  "No, a year."

  "Two months."

  "Eight."

  Ms Patriot sighed loudly. "Cut to the chase. Six months. Half a year. That's plenty of time for you to rearrange your operations and fortify yourself against me," Ms Patriot said. "No more dickering."

  "Six months. It's a deal," Erica said. "Now untie me so I can go to bed."

  Ms Patriot laughed. A deep, heart-felt laugh. It was a beautiful thing, and even Erica was touched by it.

  "Um, no," Ms Patriot said. She reached down, and snapped a Bliss capsule in Erica's face. Unfortunately for Ms Patriot, she caught a whiff too.

  "Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!" Erica cried in pure pleasure.

  "Ummph," Ms Patriot grunted, trying valiantly to fight the drug's effects. Standing, she pretended to not be affected. "You have one week."

  With that, Ms Patriot left. She did make sure to set off the alarm in Erica's room first. She smiled, knowing that Erica's brutal thugs would soon arrive to save her, only to find a very horny mistress demanding sexual satisfaction. Erica would be so humiliated and shamed come morning.

  Ms Patriot quickly returned to her car and drove home. Once there, Jennifer called up an especially handsome gate guard. He really enjoyed his "bonus" that night.

  After her night of debauchery with the security guard at Jade Manor, Jennifer paid him off to keep his mouth shut and allowed him to retire. Of course, he was retiring from a minimum-wage job, at twenty-two, with a very nice portfolio. People talked, but she didn't care.

  Chapter 5

  Ms Patriot laid low for the next week. Jennifer Jade, though, was all over the news. Mostly doing charity work and being the Good Samaritan. She visited every morning talk show and news program in the city, to beg the city's forgiveness and tell her story of betrayal and woe. Everyone knew all about her months as a Bliss whore, and she had to spin it just right. By the end of the week, everyone was back in love with her, and wanted to lynch poor Gus.

  It was late Friday night, near nine o'clock, and Jennifer was still in the office working diligently. The next day was day seven, when Erica Sambino had to deliver Patriot Girl or pay the consequences. Jennifer was planning out Ms Patriot's campaign of terror against that celebrated criminal family. She really thought Erica would have Patriot Girl back within a couple days. If it was going to the wire, then it was likely Erica either couldn't or wouldn't buy the sexy sidekick back and free her.

  "It is about to get real ugly in Grimme City," Jennifer said, baby blues narrowed.

  Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep!

  It was her secret super heroine smartphone. That special beep was for the pager number given to Erica. Jennifer pulled the phone from her purse. Erica Sambino's personal cell number was displayed. Jennifer smiled.

  Calling the number, she shifted to her deeper, more commanding super heroine voice. "This is Ms Patriot. You have Patriot Girl?"

  "Of course," Erica said. She sounded pleased. Too pleased. That couldn't be good. "And it wasn't easy to pull off, either, Ms Super Dumb. But I did it, and I am so glad you made me do this."

  Ms Super Dumb? What made Erica so smug she thought it safe to insult and taunt her?

  "You should be careful, Erica. You have six months free of my interference already. Once you return Patriot Girl I may be inclined to leave you alone much longer than that," Jennifer said, trying to sound both reasonable and determined at the same time. The thought that Erica might use Patriot Girl as a hostage occurred to her. Why hadn't she thought of that before? "I have to assume, that since you paged me, you have secured Patriot Girl's release and now have her."

  "You assume correctly," Erica said. "Patriot Girl is kneeling before me right now. Wait, did I say Patriot Girl? She isn't in costume. The cartel kept that as a trophy of fond remembrance of her time with them. LYNDA LYNNS is kneeling before me, bound hand and foot. She looks a bit worried, too… Jennifer."

  Jennifer's blood ran cold. Ice cold. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Erica Sambino, the local Boss of Bosses, knew Jennifer Jade was Ms Patriot.

  What was I thinking! Jennifer thought in despair. Of course Patriot Girl wouldn’t be returned in costume. And if she was, Erica would unmask her. It wasn't any great leap to figure out my secret identity once they determined Lynda was Patriot Girl. She groaned low, eyes squeezed shut and head dropping to her desktop. I am a fool! I gave Erica my secret identity just as sure as I stood before her and unmasked myself.

  "Hello? You still there, Jennifer 'Ms Patriot' Jade?" Erica said with way too much cheer.

  "Wh-wha-what do you want?" Jennifer eventually stammered out.

  "Oh, silly girl," Erica laughed. Then her voice dropped an octave, sounding menacing. "I want you."

  "We-we-we can w-work out a d-deal," Jennifer said, trying valiantly to rein in her racing heart and imagination. She knew Erica well enough to know that her victory would entail the most humiliating indignities imaginable being perpetrated upon her. Very public humiliations. Very public and well-witnessed. "If you let Lynda and I go, I'll give you my company. Jade Enterprises."

  "You know I already have that," Erica said, and laughed. "Give me the city's other super heroines on a silver platter, and I'll be most gracious and merciful. Of course, I'll make sure the world knows that you betrayed them."

  "Of course," Jennifer whispered. "I cannot betray them, even if I knew their secret identities. You should know we don't share that information, just because capture is always a possibility for us."

  "Worth a try," Erica said, as she looked at a bottle of truth serum in her left hand, then set it down. That was for later. "Now I will dictate my terms."

  "Of course," Jennifer said miserably.

  "Come to my house," Erica said. "Right now. But, make sure you are dressed as Ms Patriot. Power belt and all. Make it fast, because Lynda 'Patriot Girl' Lynns is looking weak and vulnerable, and I have some really evil men eyeing her with violent intentions."

  Click.

  Jennifer just sat there for five minutes, phone to her ear. She was too stunned by her reversal of fortune to think or move. When she finally put away her phone, Jennifer's first thought was to run. But that would be a shameful display of wretchedness that no super heroine worth her costume could stomach. She was a super heroine because she could and would walk into the teeth of the beast, fearlessly. And she usually came out of those encounters due to a combination of cunning, bravado, skill, and superior strength and endurance.

  "There has to be a way out of this," she said, standing, straightening her clothes meticulously, and then heading for her car.

  Jennifer drove home as fast as she dared. Entering the front door, she headed straight upstairs with firm orders not to disturb her for any reason shy of nuclear attack. And if there was a nuclear attack, then it wouldn't matter if they discovered her missing. So she rushed into her room, stripping out of her clothes as she headed for her vast closet next to the master bath. She left a line of discarded clothes as she went, and entered her secret chamber naked as the day she was born.

  Jennifer quickly donned her legendary patriotic costume. In less than five minutes, the Champion of Justice was roaring out of the secret garage deep beneath Jade Manor. Once on the road, Ms Patriot flicked on the police lights and siren and drove like a bat out of hell. She tried to stay positive. There had to be a way out. There always was. After all, she'd escaped capture by Erica once already by outwitting the mob boss.

  It could happen again. It just had to happen again.

  Ms Patriot really had only one hope that she could count on. In the trunk of her car was a kit. It had truth serums and memory suppression drugs. If Erica hadn't shared her knowledge with anyone else, then there was hope. The more people that knew the truth, the more dangerous and difficult it would be to contain.

  At high speed, it only took ten minutes to reach Erica's country estate from Jade Manor. They were on the same side of
town, off the same major highway. The front gates swung open at her approach. That didn't make her feel any better. Worse, a dozen thugs milled around in the front drive outside the front door. They were all well over six feet, and heavily muscled. When they looked at her, one and all smiled grimly. There was no fear displayed by anyone.

  "They know I'm here to surrender," Ms Patriot whispered, horrified. Did Erica tell them all the truth? Even if she could subdue and capture them all, she didn't have nearly enough memory drugs to take care of a quarter of them. Not even at home, since half of her entire supply was in the car. "This is not good."

  Knees weak, throat tight, and heart heavy, Ms Patriot exited her patriotic-themed sports car and made for the front door. None of the men moved out of her way. If she really had to surrender to Erica, if she couldn't outwit her wiliest of adversaries inside, then those men would have total access to her and her body. It would be very bad to incite their wrath any further, so Ms Patriot carefully stepped around them and made no scene. They laughed uproariously as she reached the door.

  "How the mighty have fallen," one crowed. "A beautiful sight."

  "Yes, Ms Patriot cowed like a good girl," another piped in.

  "The most beautiful sight will be Ms Patriot, on her back and getting gang-banged by us," another said viciously.

  "Yeah," the thug at the door said. He was six-eight, three hundred pounds easily. He opened the door and waved her in, his hard eyes burning into her boobs. "We're almost there."

  Ms Patriot froze at his confident words, baby blues wide in shock. How close to a gangbang was she? Would Erica give her to them that night? How, oh how, would she escape that most unsavory of fates? She'd been fighting crimes since a freshman in college. Had it all been in vain? Would her glorious, storied crime-fighting career be snuffed out that night, to end with her as helpless fuck meat for the forces of evil?

  Slipping past the grinning thug, she entered the main house. A gorgeous redhead in a tight satin French maid uniform met her. She smiled brightly at the sexy super heroine, and even her big green eyes couldn't stray long from the Champion of Justice's monster mammaries.

  "My mistress iz waiting for you in zhe Great Room, Ms Patriot," the French maid said in a heavy French accent. Ms Patriot raised a questioning eyebrow at her. "Please, go on in. My mistress iz most impatient to meet with you."

  "I bet she is," Ms Patriot said, suddenly overwhelmed with dread. Why hadn't she come up with a ploy to escape unscathed, with Patriot Girl, and without anyone knowing their secret identities? But there was no time left. The vivacious vigilante took a deep, steadying breath, and started towards the indicated double doors. "Well now, we wouldn't want to keep the mistress waiting, now would we?"

  "On no, we would not," she said.

  The French maid made a sexy little high-heeled dash – clicky-click, clicky-click – to the double doors ahead of Ms Patriot. She turned both knobs and pushed, and stepped through first. Ms Patriot followed on her heels.

  "Ms Patriot iz here," she announced grandly, curtsied, and left, closing the doors behind her.

  Ms Patriot heard the doors click locked.

  "Oh, my," Ms Patriot whispered, coming to a halt wide-eyed and open mouthed.

  "Surprise," Erica said, and grinned. "I invited a couple mutual friends, to witness your surrender and submission."

  The Great Room was full of the minions of evil. Crime lords. Pimps. Pushers. Prostitutes. Pornographers. Even the head of Vice was there, Chief Wessel.

  "Please, ignore us," King Pimp said. "Go on."

  There was a simmering dark hunger in their eyes. This would be a red-letter day for them all. The witnesses would talk about this day for years, maybe decades. It could end up being the highlight of their pathetic, misspent lives.

  Ms Patriot found herself frozen in place. Did they know already she was Jennifer Jade? Or was that to be a big surprise, a bonus, so to speak? But with another fifty or sixty evil men and women in the room with them, she wasn't likely to escape the terrible fate Erica had planned for her and Lynda.

  "I'm waiting," Erica said from across the room. She was decked out in all black leather, dominatrix-style, but with a tight skirt and fishnet hose instead of pants. She had a wicked-looking riding crop in hand. Lynda knelt beside her, her face covered with a blue mask, but wearing only a white bustier with garters holding up white hose and white strappy sandals with five-inch stiletto heels over sexy little ruffled socks. She was supposed to be a naughty schoolgirl or something. "Surrender and kneel before me, Ms Patriot."

  The Champion of Justice paused to compose herself. A deep breath helped. Then she lifted her chin high, and walked with slow dignity towards Erica. The room fell deathly silent, so that the only sound was the clicking of Ms Patriot's stiletto boots on the hardwood floor. She approached to within three feet of Erica and struck a classic super heroine pose – head high and proud, chest thrust out, and red-gloved hands on well-rounded hips.

  Everyone sucked in their breath at the sight of her, even Erica.

  "I'm waiting," Erica said.

  Ms Patriot felt a tremble deep in her belly. She had no out. Hell, she could barely think at all in her fear and despair. She licked full red lips, glanced briefly at the waiting, breathless horde, and turned back to Erica. Despite her best efforts to keep a brave face no matter what, Ms Patriot felt a pair of hot tears escape her baby blues as realization crystallized in her mind, heart, and soul – she lost. It was all over. She belonged to Erica now.

  "Erica… I-I-I sur-surrender myself… Into your tender mercies," Ms Patriot whispered hoarsely. With trembling, red-gloved fingers she reached behind her back and unfastened the power belt. She gasped as super strength rushed out of her legendary, busty body. Holding out the lovingly folded power belt, she croaked, "I g-give you the source of my strength."

  "I accept," Erica said. There was a collective gasp as everyone watched incredulously, even though they knew it was the reason they were there. No one could believe Ms Patriot really was giving herself to a mob boss of her own free will. It was beyond belief. "With pleasure."

  Erica took the belt, smiled with satisfaction, then looked at her mask with expectation. Ms Patriot locked eyes with her, wide baby blues with gleeful dark browns. The Champion of Justice glanced at Lynda, kneeling in her tight bonds – aghast, crying, and ball-gagged. The vanquished vigilante cleared her throat, swallowed hard to clear the knot there, and cleared it again.

  "And, of course, the final nail in my coffin," Ms Patriot said with a trembling voice. She reached up to her mask. In all her years of being a super heroine, she'd lost every article of her costume, except her mask. In that time, every other super heroine had been unmasked, including Lynda twice, but not her. She'd been able to catch the criminals that unmasked her comrades in costumed crime fighting, and wipe their memories. But there were too many witnesses watching her. Within the hour, Ms Patriot's true identity would be spread to the far corners of the globe. "I give you… My m-mask."

  With that Ms Patriot slowly pulled off her mask. A collective gasp filled the silent room. Tears flowing, she placed the mask in Erica's hand, and then turned to the audience and shook her long, luxurious black hair back out of her face.

  It was obvious that every one of them recognized her immediately. She'd tangled with them all both as Ms Patriot and Jennifer Jade, in very different ways and manners. Jennifer was just as big a thorn in their sides as Ms Patriot, if not more so, since she had the ear of the mayor, city council, and most of the city's business and social leaders in a way no super heroine could ever hope to match.

  "Fucking Jennifer Jade!" Kid Rotten cried. "Wahoo! Erica, my girl, you kicked Ms Patriot and Jennifer Jade to the curb with one fell swoop! God, I love you."

  Erica reached down and ripped off Lynda's mask. "And her faithful sidekick? None other than Lynda Lynns, Jennifer Jade's obnoxiously perky ward."

  "Erica, I would forego my bribe this month if you honored me with Ms Patriot's first b
low job as a sex slave," Chief Wessel called out.

  "Only if you're willing to get it in front of everyone," Erica said, freezing Ms Patriot's heart. She would rather suck both Kid Rotten's and King Pimp's rancid cocks than even look at Chief Wessel's dick. He was a traitor to the police and the people. They were at least honest about who and what they were. "And I will consider it getting off cheap."

  "It's a deal!" Wessel cried.

  He was called the Weasel by everyone, police and criminal alike. Everyone knew he was crooked, they just couldn't prove it. Ms Patriot had tried for years and years, and tonight she would suffer the consequences of those noble efforts.

  "Kneel, Ms Patriot," Erica commanded.

  Ms Patriot dutifully obeyed. What else could she do? She really wanted to know. Then the Weasel caught her attention, moving through the crowd towards their fateful tryst. He was six-foot-four, out of shape, and with a pronounced paunch. At forty-five, he was a twenty-two year veteran of the police, and the Chief of Vice. She'd known him most of her career, both as Ms Patriot and Jennifer Jade. He had leered at her from day one, mostly at her large tits and full lips. Almost every comment from him involved sexual innuendo, if not an outright proposition. In recent years, he'd gotten worse and more vulgar. It made Ms Patriot's skin crawl just to think that he would be the first to enjoy her sexual servitude. And, oh, how he would enjoy it, savor and revel in it.

  The Weasel stepped before the kneeling super heroine, now captured, unmasked, and enslaved. He paused to caress her silky black hair with gentle awe, and then finger the point on her tiara. Then he looked down at her lips, so full and glistening red. So kissable looking. Lips he'd dreamed of seeing and feeling wrapped around his cock for years. He ran his thumb across her lower lips, feeling the greasy lip gloss.

  "Take off your top," the Weasel said. "I want to see those giant titties."

  "No," Erica said. "Not yet. Give him his BJ. Now."