Ms Patriot: The Heroine Trade (Chapter 20) (Patreon)

Chapter 20

Next morning, 8:40 AM…

Mikhail yanked her leash, making the former billionaire super heroine stumble within her hobble chain. With her arms bound behind her back, wrists tied to elbows, her balance was off. She shot him a sharp look, but couldn’t say anything. A bright red ball-gag filled her mouth, straps around her head, down under her chin, and up between her eyes and over her head, held it in place. Her blue mask was freshly glued to her face. Her body was freshly showered, face made up, and hair still damp.

They’d forced her to put her full costume back on, sans power belt. But the belt was part of the purchase. Didn’t matter at the moment. The auction turned into a gangbang, leaving her body sated and without any sexual frustrations to fuel the magical Object of Power.

He led her into a room she hadn’t seen before. Ms Patriot spotted Katie out cold, bound tightly, and lying in a wooden crate. Ready to be shipped to her new master. Konstantin was in the middle of injecting something into Sadie’s neck, her body already starting to sag and go limp. Then two slavers lifted her bound body up and gently placed her inside another crate.

Ms Patriot’s eyes locked on the one remaining crate. Her shipping crate. She looked around, trying to determine where she was being sent. Who was her new master? The slavers had refused to tell her, but they always smirked when she asked.

That can’t be good.

She was taken up to Konstantin, who grinned at her with wicked glee. Then Drake came up and copped a feel. Mikhail and Drake held her arms while Konstantin refilled the syringe from a small bottle. But they waited until Chekov entered, leading Britannia on a leash. The British super heroine was back in her full costume, but her wrists were handcuffed behind her back, hobble chain around her ankles. A ring-gag kept her silent and mouth ready for exploitation.

The white null collar remained around her slender neck.

Is that a little baby bump starting to show?

“Ah, if it isn’t Jenny from the Block, who lost it all including her very freedom.”

She just glared at him. The heroine let her hostile eyes do all the talking. Trying to speak around a ball-gag just made her sound pathetic. Why give them the satisfaction?

“What? Ball-gag got your tongue?” Chekov said, making the others laugh. He flicked off a rope of drool hanging off her chin. “You never looked lovelier. Ready to learn your fate? I think so.”

Her breath caught. Was he going to tell her who bought her? Who her new master was? But he started speaking to Mikhail and Konstantin in Russian. She turned her attention back to Britannia, who still looked stunned, or gobsmacked as she would say.

“Konstantin.”

That brought Ms Patriot’s attention back to the human traffickers. What were they up to now? And then Mikhail and Drake’s hands tightened on her upper arms. Konstantin pressed up close, and pushed a needle into her neck. She felt the cold drug injected. Felt it flowing up into her head, and then everything shifted, spun, and darkness came crashing down.

Ms Patriot groaned pathetically as her eyes closed and body went limp. The slavers laughed, copped a few more feels, and finally placed her in the crate. She was out of it, so never knew when they nailed the lid down. The crate was labeled, taken out to a waiting delivery truck, and whisked away.

~*~*~

Ms Patriot didn’t know how long she was unconscious, but she woke up to absolute darkness. Movement told her she was in a vehicle. Going to the airport? Or had she been out during the entire trip, and woke up at the very end. Maybe Southeast Asia? Or Sub-Saharan Africa? Or Latin America? It’s possible a Russian Oligarch bought her. Or an American billionaire. Mexican cartel.

She shifted and squirmed, discovering her bindings remained, including the hobble chain. Worst of all, they’d left the ball-gag in and her jaw THROBBED in agony. She bit down hard, teeth pushing in deep, all to help relieve the stress and pain. But the ball’s rubber won, and forced her jaw fully open again.

The vehicle stopped. Backed up. Her heart started racing, a dozen frightening scenarios dancing through her fertile imagination. Again, she wondered what continent she was sent to. Back in her youth, shortly after her apprenticeship and becoming a full super heroine, her alter ego, Jenny Jade, was kidnapped by business rivals. They had their fun with her body, before selling her to a brothel in Thailand.

Jenny spent over eight months in that brothel, in that hot, humid heat, until Jade Security tracked her down and saved her. Brought her home. And she vowed that would never happen to her again. Yet, there she was again. Her fate, her life, her very body subject to the will of bad men.

Only now Jade Enterprises, and Jade Security, belong to Chekov. There will be no one coming to save me.

Her breath caught when men pulled the crate out of the vehicle. She felt them carrying her inside, and then place the crate on the ground. A moment later crowbars started prying the lid off. She held her breath, eyes huge, as light flooded in. And then the lid vanished, and a familiar face leered down at her.

King Pimp! Nononono!

The six foot seven African-American yanked her up and out of the crate. She felt like a ragdoll in his hands. While her mind was clear of the drug, her body remained mostly unresponsive. At best she could squirm and wiggle, which worked for the big pimp.

His hands roamed her body, before he unbuckled the ball-gag. Oh what a relief it was when that rubber ball popped out of her mouth. She didn’t even care that the pimp immediately claimed her lips. She let him have his fun, while she slowly recovered from the slavers’ drug. But then King Pimp unzipped her corset and tossed it aside.

That’s when she realized they were surrounded by a dozen other large black men. One and all black-clad bouncers at the Palace.

Goddess, save me! He’s going to make me work in the world’s most famous brothel!

After he enjoyed her tits a few minutes, and she was overheated and panting, King Pimp forced Ms Patriot to her knees. Then he pulled out his monster cock, gathered up all of her silky black hair in one hand, and guided his dick into her mouth. Ms Patriot didn’t fight it. She just stared up into his eyes, bobbing on his dick, and gave him what he wanted. For now.

Lots of men have captured me, but so far none has been able to keep me.

King Pimp reached down and slowly peeled off her mask. Which reminded her that everyone knew her secret. Her personal fortune was lost. And then all hope died within. Tears rolled down her flush cheeks, and she intensified her sucking.

Must…make…him…happy, she thought, hearting sinking. My pimp. My m-master.

The End