Ms Patriot: The Heroine Trade (Chapter 7) (Patreon)

Chapter 7

Shortly after escaping, Britannia dropped down into a night-shrouded park. The two beauties looked all around with wary eyes. Jennifer noticed that the English woman was no more shy about being nude in public than she was, but that was probably a trait of super heroines world wide.

“Sorry, but we were arranged in a bad way for me,” she said, breathing heavily as she bent over hands on knees. “I need to catch my breath, and then start to carry you properly.”

Jennifer hesitated. “What does that mean? Should I hang on your back.”

All of her previous experience being carried by a flying super heroine had been emergency situations, where she was just grabbed however convenient and fast, and dragged through the air. Indeed, between them, Uber Woman, Uber Girl, and Omega Girl had carried her in every way a woman could be carried.

Britannia’s exhaustion seemed a bit much, but not totally surprising. The heroines that had flown her out of a bad situation had often complained how hard it was to carry another adult, but then she remembered Uber Woman carrying up to three others for short distances.

“You mean ride me like a sky horse?” Britannia cried. “I think not. No, it’ll be easier for me to carry you in my arms.”

Yeah, she was afraid Britannia would say that. Only an over-the-shoulder carry was more undignified.

Jennifer shrugged with a nod. “We have a saying in this country; Beggars can’t be choosers.”

The English heroine lifted a brow. “There’s a problem with being carried in my arms? I’d think it the most comfortable for you.”

“It’s not my comfort I’m concerned with,” she muttered, and shrugged apologetically. “But whatever is best for you.”

“Interesting. How would you prefer to be carried?”

Jennifer couldn’t help herself. “I’d rather ride you like a sky horse.” She winked at the started heroine. “Yippee kai yai yo, baby.”

Thank the Goddess Britannia laughed. Jennifer giggled.

“Sorry, I’m feeling a little giddy,” Britannia said. “I’ve been in tight, unrelenting bondage and discipline for a month.” She sighed gustily, and then stood up straight. “Sorry. My super powers are fueled by the energy I absorb from the sun. I’m almost depowered after a month in darkness.”

Jennifer looked around to figure out exactly where they were in relation to her penthouse and offices. At the moment, they were at the western edge of the city, almost into the suburbs. It would be a considerable hike, while naked, to reach downtown. Jade Manor was even further away.

“Maybe we can hitch a ride with…”

“No. I’m good. I can carry you home,” she said. “I’m a big girl now.”

She smiled. Britannia reminded her that one and all super heroines were tough as nails.

“Then let’s get back to my place as quickly as possible,” she said. “Then you can revel in your freedom, rest in safety, and charge up in the sunshine tomorrow.”

“Lovely,” she said, sweeping Jennifer up into her arms. The raven-maned woman threw an arm around her shoulders and smiled at her. Britannia hesitated, giving her a wary look. “Just don’t kiss me. I’m feeling vulnerable right now.”

“No promises.”

“God help me, you Americans are so… Extra.”

The blonde goddess of a heroine just leapt into the sky effortlessly. At least that is how it appeared to Jennifer. Flying heroines all hid any strain they felt helping others.

Jennifer kept her savior on course and they quickly approached Jade Manor. The walled in portion of the estate was lit up. Landscape lighting revealed the full glory of her grounds, while most of the windows were lit up in the sprawling mansion.

“Wow. I’d thought your Jade Manor was just a pretentious name for an average American mansion. But this rivals the great manor houses of England,” Britannia said.

“That old thing,” Jennifer said, poo-pooing it. “It’s been in the family for ages.”

Britannia rolled her eyes with a grin.

Jade Manor was built in the Tudor style, so she suspected Britannia would feel some comfort there. Then Jennifer took control, directing her down to a side balcony. That covered balcony was larger than most flats in London.

Britannia landed rather hard, and then almost dropped her passenger. Jennifer looked her over with worried eyes. Had she asked too much of her? As a heroine, Britannia would suck it up and do whatever it took to help another person.

“We made it,” the blonde said in a strained whispered. “I was starting to worry we wouldn’t.” She giggled. “But all’s well that ends well, right?”

Jennifer smiled, nodded, and hugged her.

“Thank your for saving me, Britannia. Please know I am eternally grateful.”

Jennifer went straight to the second set of French doors, pressed a hidden scanner, and unlocked it.

“Welcome to my bedroom,” she said, leading the way inside.

They stopped, looked each other’s nudity over, and then glanced at the very large bed. Jennifer bit her lip, shook her head, and turned away.

“Of course, you’ll get your own bedroom.”

“Thank you,” the blonde beauty said, still looking around. “This is amazing. I don’t think the King has a bedroom to challenge this.”

Jennifer just nodded, her mind racing. So many ideas. So many possibilities. After her terrible ordeal, Britannia had to be just as dedicated to capturing and arresting the human traffickers as herself. So why not team up?

She stopped next to the closed closet door.

“This is my closet. We’re pretty close in height and body type, so let’s get dressed,” she said. “And then I have a proposal I’d like for you to consider.”

“Proposal?” Britannia asked, then slanted a look back at the bed.

Jennifer smiled and shook her head. Leading the way inside the vast, sprawling closet suite, she headed into the main dressing room, with all of the actual closets off it. The blonde looked around in wonder.

“How rich are you?”

Jennifer looked around at certain dresses, evening gowns, and fine feminine footwear on display. All pieces that had significant meaning to her. All reminders of some important event in her young life. All super expensive designer clothes.

“This rich,” she said. “But money doesn’t buy happiness.”

“Says everyone who is rich, but no one else.”

She grabbed a pair of short, snug sundresses. Both white cotton, but Jennifer’s dress had pink flowers and Britannia’s had yellow flowers. Jennifer kicked off her blue pumps to be barefooted like her guest.

Heart rate ramping up, Jennifer led her over to a spot just inside the closet door. She indicated built-in book shelves. She pressed a cleverly hidden scanner, her finger print activating the hidden door which slid open with a whoosh of hydraulics. Britannia looked suitably surprised and impressed.

“Brilliant! Darling, I love hidden rooms and passages.”

“Don’t we all,” Jennifer said. “Especially women who are secretly super heroines.”

“What?”

Jennifer took her by the hand and headed through the door. The door closed behind them automatically after they passed through. The lights had snapped on when the door opened, revealing a dressing room and two vanities. Bright red, white, and blue displayed and folded up on shelves greeted them. Britannia’s jaw dropped.

“Is this not a saferoom?”

“Well, it’s pretty safe.”

Britannia stepped back from her host and took it all in.

“Are you…” She picked up a corset with vertical red and white stripes. “Are you Ms Patriot?”

“You’ve heard of me?”

“Of course. You’re rather infam… Famous around the world.”

Infamous? She thought. Then aloud, “Unlike you, I need an Object of Power to harness my Goddess given super powers.” She picked up a wide, golden belt. “One of those powers is not flight, so I’m a little jealous.”

Britannia laughed. “Don’t be. Flight isn’t… Isn’t all that…um…okay, it’s pretty amazing being able to fly like a bird.” She handed the corset to Jennifer. “Please, put on your costume. I’d love to see you in your full strength and glory.”

She hesitated, shrugged, and stripped off the sundress. Jennifer wrapped the corset around her upper body, with her new friend zipping her up. After “fluffing” her boobs, she pulled on the blue, star-spangled tanga thong bottoms, and then stamped into red patent thigh boots.

“Are your boots Christian Louboutin?”

“They are,” she said, wagging her brows. “He custom makes them for me. Jealous?”

“I actually am. Just a little.”

They giggled as she zipped the thigh boots up.

Next came her mask, glued to her face with fashion glue. And then after snapping the choker on, and pulling on her long red opera gloves, she picked up the power belt and smiled at Britannia.

“This is my favorite part.”

The belt went around her tiny waist, covering the thin gap between the corset and thong. Her super powers flowed into her spectacular body the instant all four snaps closed tight. Her eyes fluttered closed, back slightly bowing as her had rolled back and a soft, wanton groan escaped her lips.

“Call me Ms Patriot now.”

She sucked in a deep, steadying breath. Her baby blues opened and regarded the English heroine.

“I actually have a magic spell that toggles me between two forms, one Ms Patriot in costume and the other Jennifer Jade in whatever.” She frowned. “But last night’s adventure out on the streets proved to be, um messy. I might’ve been knocked off a roof to fall into the most disgusting trash dumpster in the city.”

She indicated a closed door.

 “That costume is in the washer.”

“Bloody awesome, no matter how you change into Ms Patriot,” Britannia said. Her baby blues dropped to Ms Patriot’s golden belt. “I’ve heard it’s pretty incredible when a heroine puts on her Object of Power. Pure bliss claimed your face.”

“It’s, um, pretty good,” she whispered, voice deeper and husky at the moment just thinking about it. “Don’t worry, I recover quickly.”

“So just like that you are at full super heroine strength?”

“Usually, but not this time,” she said.

“Why’s that?”

She paused, pursed her lips, and shrugged. “My super powers are fueled by pent up sexual frustration. The slavers that kidnapped me this evening… Let’s just say they, um, satisfied all my pent up frustrations.”

“Oh. Sorry for reminding you,” she said. “How long before you recover you super powers?”

“That depends on how frustrated sexually I get. I literally have to be barking mad with need to fully fuel my powers.”

“Barking mad? Was that a dig at us Brits?”

She laughed. “Just a little tease. Brits do say that, right?”

“I suppose. I’ve never said it,” the blonde said. “I’ve only heard it used on the telly, and I’m pretty sure it was an American actor saying it.”

They grinned at each other.

“Come. Let me show you the Patriot Cave.”

“Oh my God, I’ve heard about your Patriot Cave,” she said, eyes wide. “I thought it just a fun urban myth.”

“Well, I try my best to make everyone think it just an urban myth, but it really exists. Let me show you.”

She led her down a short corridor to the elevator.

“Oh my God, you have a private lift.”

“It lowers, too,” she said, and pressed the down button.

They dropped quite quickly to the secret chambers below. Ms Patriot led her guest out into the Patriot Cave as the lights boomed on throughout. Britannia stopped in her tracks and looked around with awestruck eyes.

“Be it ever so humble…” Ms Patriot said.

She showed Britannia all around. Showed her the Patriot Mobile, and two matching Patriot motorcycles, one for her and one for Patriot Girl. Then she led her new friend over to the crime lab section, full of computers and monitors.

“This is where the magic happens.”

“This is a mini version of HM6’s operations center.”

“It’s bigger than this?”

“Of course. It’s a government operation, with lots of technicians and bureaucrats.”

Ms Patriot shrugged. “I’ll need to get exact specifications, so I can expand just a little larger.”

Britannia cut her a sharp look. “Are you serious?”

“Totally,” she said, then winked.

“Totally barking mad,” Britannia said. “Oops, look what you made me say.”

“But seriously now, you and I are both victims of those evil human traffickers,” Ms Patriot said, holding Britannia’s eyes. “And we are heroines determined to end their multinational reign of terror, so I am hoping, praying that you will team up with me to capture them.” She hesitated, heart leaping up into her throat. “They captured my sweet, beautiful protégé, Patriot Girl, last month and sold her into overseas sex slavery. I desperately need to find and rescue her.”

Britannia nodded. “Understood. I will be honored to team up with you, for they captured my fellow HM6 heroines. I need to find and rescue Opal, Vanity, and Scream Queen. I think we have a better chance of success working together.”

“Great,” Ms Patriot said, and stepped closer. “Sealed with a kiss?”

“Are you serious?”

“Hey, I’m working on building up my sexual frustrations,” she cried, and giggled. “Life ain’t easy for a heroine on the street.”