Ms Patriot: The Heroine Trade (Chapter 14) (Patreon)

Chapter 14

Twenty human traffickers eased closer and closer, crouched over, arms open, ready to react to anything their prey tried. Britannia studied them, not seeing the usual arrogance and aura of male superiority. Maybe they were starting to learn, to understand. Some women are to be respected above all others. Women of Power.

I’ll show them power, she thought, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Britannia sucked in a deep breath, leaned forward, and BLEW. Icy wind exploded out of her mouth. Wind so powerful that first “puff” sent five men stumbling back to the wall, leaving their clothes covered in hoar frost. The other fifteen lunged at them with cries of anger, rage, and fear.

Ms Patriot stepped into the fight, starting out with a savage roundhouse. Then she became a blur of fists, feet, and spinning kicks. Britannia used her Wind Breath in a wide sweeping motion that stopped over half of them in their tracks, but she swept over them so fast it didn’t knock them back. Yet it stopped their charge allowing her to help her friend in the initial hand-to-hand fight.

She paused to admire Ms Patriot’s footwork. That girl could KICK. Fast and hard. Eight men already lay scattered about, down and out. Others were limping, holding ribs, or were bent over shaking their heads. Britannia quickly added to their sick, lame, and lazy list, before the men she blasted away came charging back in. That number included Chekov, who’d pulled his tight black hood off.

Pausing, she smiled to know she’d knocked a little respect into Chekov. Not enough to make him turn tail, but she didn’t want him to escape to fight another day. Then memories of her month as his enslaved fuck toy flooded her mind. Her blood ran cold as her hands curls into fists.

She locked eyes with the evil white slaver. “Chekov! Tonight’s my turn to hammer you!”

Britannia spoke the energy beam spell, lifting and pointing her right hand at the Russian leader of the gang. His eyes widened as she completed the spell, and then a bright beam of pure killer energy shot out at his chest. Chekov proved fast for such a big man, dropping straight to the floor and avoiding that death ray. He rolled away, behind other gang members rushing her.

No time for another spell, she stepped into them and started kicking, punching, and blocking. One by one, the slavers cried out in pain and stumbled back out of the fight, or just dropped to the floor unconscious. Britannia felt so powerful. After so long in helpless despair, she was a super heroine meting justice once again. Back to what she truly was and God intended.

“Hey!” Ms Patriot cried, sounding alarmed.

Britannia turned in time to see two shadowy men seize Ms Patriot’s arms and hold her, while a third unfastened her power belt and depowered her. Then the man tossed her golden belt aside, pulled off his hood, and then produced a knife that he placed across her throat.

“Don’t do it, Mikhail!” Britannia cried, taking a step closer.

Slavers seized the English heroine’s arms, but she easily shook them off, kicking both away. Another punched her in the ribs, which hurt so much. As she clutched at her injury, another slaver slammed a right cross into her right cheek, before bringing an uppercut to her chin. She stumbled back, head spinning, but she still had her wits. Not down or out.

Her eyes locked on Ms Patriot’s terrified face. And she then shifted her gaze slightly to catch and hold Mikhail’s cruel dark eyes. His wicked smile chilled her to the bones.

“Freeze, Britannia,” Mikhail shouted, a look of triumph in his eyes now. “I will slit her throat if you don’t surrender.”

Panic overwhelmed her. Just for a second, but then she remembered just how valuable a captured super heroine was on the internet. They sold for as much as a movie star or pop star. That’s when men seized her arms again, twisting them back behind her. Before she could use her super strength to pulled them free, someone snapped handcuffs around her wrists. Then that man slapped his hand over her mouth.

“And just like that you are mine once again,” Chekov said, pressing his mouth to her ear from behind. “Do it, Konstantin.”

Konstantin? she repeated in her mind. Balakirev? Konstantin Balakirev?

A large man hidden under all black stepped up, pulled a six inch golden bullet-shaped dildo out of his pocket. Her eyes widened as he twisted it, turning it on to buzz loudly.

A vibrator? Britannia thought as he pulled her nether closure to the side to expose her cunny. Her heart leapt into her throat. She screamed, “Nonono!”

Her protests were muffled by his hand gag. She bucked and wiggled, but those men were professionals. They’d seen it all and had counters. So Konstantin pressed that insidious device against her exposed clit. The vibration reverberated through her cunny, her body, her very psyche. Britannia’s back bowed, head rolling back, and eyes huge. It felt like that vibrator was perfectly attuned to her body, her libido. Pre-cum flooded out, drenching her love canal and that evil sex toy.

“Ooooooooooh.”

“Fight them, Britannia!” Ms Patriot cried. “Don’t worry about me, just fight!”

She heard her friend’s voice, but what she said didn’t really register. That insane vibration had ensnared her mind, body, and soul. It was pushing, driving her full tilt into a super-powered climax. Britannia knew she should fight it, keep it at bay, but…

“Oooooh,” she groaned, body spasming as the most wonderful orgasm erupted inside. “Ayyyye.”

“And now the great and mighty Britannia is depowered,” Chekov sneered, one hand groping her tits. “Ours to play with again.”

The evil slaver yanked her costume to the side further, grabbed her hips, and dug his thick fingers up into her butt hole. He quickly loosened her up, while Konstantin continued to force one climax after another from her now overheated and quivering body.

The slavers divided up, half gangbanging Ms Patriot while the other half gangbanged her. Chekov still denied the others access to her cunny, but they could sate their lusts on her mouth, tits, and butt. And they did for the next two hours. Chekov fucked her five times in that period, always releasing a massive load deep in her womb.

The man has a one-track mind, she thought, laying on her back, wrists locked underneath and knees spread wide. She felt his cum slowly oozing out to dribble down across her taint and butt hole. Britannia panted furiously through her nose, since Chekov kept duct tape over her mouth when no one was using it. It was that easy to stop her Wind Breath. He’s not going to stop until he gets a child off me.

Britannia wasn’t sure why it had to be his baby. Male pride? Did he believe a blood related daughter would be more loyal to him? Or did he think he bred true, and any child would be equally as evil?

Ms Patriot, stripped down to just her mask and boots, was dragged semi-conscious over to them. They dumped her face down next to the English heroine. Chekov rolled the raven-haired beauty to her back, brushed her hair aside, and looked her over with lustful eyes. Then slapped her face back and forth until she woke up groaning in misery.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty,” he sneered, pushing his thumb into her mouth. She started sucking. “Welcome back to super heroine hell.”

She was not bound in any way, just depowered. Earlier, Britannia learned why as she saw the Curse of the Valkyrie consume Ms Patriot. The busty heroine turned into a ravenous nympho, giving better than she was getting. She literally groveled and begged to be fucked. While Britannia was horrified, she understood the Curse was real and undeniable for those heroines descended of the Viking Valkyrie.

Britannia noticed Ms Patriot gave her a head to toe appraising look, then turned her full attention on Chekov. Ms Patriot slowly, carefully rose up onto her knees, continuing to suck on his thumb. Then she pulled off, moved up between his knees, and went down on Chekov. She moaned and groaned, giving him the most amazing blowjob ever. Britannia watched in morbid fascination as her body slowly cooled, and quickly recovered.

She was grateful for the opportunity to pull herself together, because it wasn’t going to last long. She figured they had one more fucking session before Chekov dragged her away to be machine fucked and bred.

Is she doing this all for me?

The Russian started squeezing and slapping the heroine’s tits back and forth. He pinched an nipple so hard she squeaked, tears rolling down her cheeks. Ms Patriot reached up to lovingly stroke Chekov’s face, slanting up pleading blue eyes. His smiling face was sickeningly full of smug victory. Then she tilted her face, offered her lips, and he kissed her long and deep.

Ms Patriot slowly pulled away, lowered her face to his lap, and wrapped a perfectly manicured hand around his erection. After a few firm strokes, she started teasing his piss hole with the tip of her tongue. Britannia gasped when Chekov suddenly, out of the blue, ejaculated into her mouth and all over her face and tits. Ms Patriot looked surprised as well.

Chekov laughed as he reached out and cupped her face. “Let’s see who is hiding behind this mask.”

“No,” Ms Patriot cried, the shock pulling her back into reality. “That’s not allowed.”

Mikhail dropped behind the young beauty, wrapped an arm around her neck, and squeezed. Sleeper hold, and Ms Patriot had a few seconds to struggle, before her eyes rolled up and she went limp. The slavers all laughed, their faces vicious.

After the hold loosened, allowing blood to flow to her brain, Chekov slapped her until Ms Patriot’s eyes fluttered open. Men dropped to either side of her, holding her arms tightly. Immobilized her. Then holding Ms Patriot’s eyes, Chekov reached out and dug two fingers under the edge of her blue mask. He pulled, the glue refusing to release at first. But it gave up the fight, and that mask quickly peeled off her face.

“Are you… Jennifer Jade?” Chekov asked. “The billionaire bitch we caught and lost?”

“Does this change everything?” Konstantin asked. “She’s not just a hot billionaire chick, but Grimme City’s premier super heroine. I think her price just soared.”

Chekov nodded, and then had a whispered conversation with Mikhail and three other slavers.

“Leonid, call King Pimp and inform him we have re-acquired Ms Jade, but we discovered that she is Ms Patriot as well,” Chekov said, tracing her full red lips with a finger. Then he pushed his thumb into her mouth, and Ms Patriot stared up into his face as she sucked on it. Docile. Obedient. Eager to please. “We will still sell her to him if he’s still interested.”

“Price?”

Despite the conversation, Ms Patriot cut a quick glance at Britannia. Their eyes met for a brief second, but so much emotion passed between them. Then a speculative look flashed across her face.

“Quadruple the previously agreed upon price, otherwise we put her up for auction on the Dark Web.”

Britannia notice that everyone was fixated on the newly unmasked super heroine. Ignoring her for the moment. That wouldn’t last. But their inattention, the fact no one was molesting her, fucking her, allowed her mind and body to recover. Just as a test, she carefully lifted an inch off the floor to test if her power of flight had returned. She smiled under the duct tape gag.

The handcuffs and gag limited what she could do. She felt her super strength again, so could fight handcuffed. She wasn’t as good with her legs and feet as Ms Patriot, but she could still kick some serious ass, as the Americans would say.

Catching Ms Patriot’s eyes, she lifted up again and wagged her brows. The other heroine gave the briefest of nods, but she was being held quite tightly. No way Ms Patriot could get to her, so she had to make things happen.

Mikhail bent the American heroine over, and mounted her from behind.

“Ugggh,” Ms Patriot grunted. She turned beseeching eyes to Britannia.

Her nerves steeled, Britannia flew up off the floor to cries of alarm. She curled up into the fetal position, and cannon-balled through the slavers. Knocking men this way and that, plowing into Mikhail’s chest to knock him away from Ms Patriot. Then she flew straight at Chekov, snapped her body straight at the last second to slam stiletto-heeled feet into his face.

Someone started shooting.

Britannia thought of her friend, sans power belt. Without protection from bullets, while she easily erected her shields against bullets. Her eyes scanned the floor, found the glint of gold and flew over. Landing on her bum next to the all-important belt, she searched for several long seconds before her hands got hold of it. Then she flew straight to Ms Patriot, spinning in midair to kick Mikhail away as he charged back up to secure the helpless heroine.

“Hmggh!”

Ms Patriot reached up and ripped the duct tape off.

“Ouch. Now get on me and hold on for dear life!”

The other heroine climbed on her back, wrapping arms and legs tightly around her. Britannia never hesitated. She flew with all she had for the basement stairs, bouncing off slavers trying to stop her. Up the stairs she flew, and then crashed through a front window. Her shields protected both of them from the sharp glass shards.

“That was a bad setback,” Ms Patriot gasped out. She touched her naked face. “My secret identity has been exposed. I’m fucked.” She looked back at the house. “Turn around. We have to go back.”