Ms Patriot: Monster Mayhem (Chapter 6) (Patreon)

Ms Patriot: Monster Mayhem

Chapter 6

Grimme City, Sugar Town, penthouse atop Club Ga Ga, late Saturday night…

Four huge, brutal looking men filed through the door. All wore black suits. Their leader, Darius even wore a black shirt and tie. The witch slanted a narrowed-eyed look their way. She fought the urge to curl her lip. It was just the four of them. She knew they’d failed from the scowls on their faces.

They stopped to stand in line to her right. An 85-inch TV was fastened to the wall before Wicked Wanda. She was using a remote in her right hand to switch between cameras, zooming in and out. Looking for any sign of the monsters she summoned and somehow managed to escape her control.

An especially large man skirted the field of view, so she swung the camera round to get eyes on him.

The largest of her henchmen, a six eight African-American, started, “Boss, we – ”

Wicked Wanda cut Darius off with a raised hand. “I know. Be silent.”

She zoomed in on the massive man of interest. Easily seven foot tall, muscular. But not an orc. He had long brown hair, jean vest, and walked up to a big Harley-Davidson.

“Stupid biker,” she muttered.

Wicked Wanda turned her emerald green eyes on the four minions. None of them were really paying attention to her, yet profoundly focused on her at the same time. She recognized the primal looks in their eyes. Those eyes were soaking her in, consuming every shapely inch of her splendidly attired body. At the moment, she wore a bright red satin dress that hugged every curve. It was long sleeved, but with a plunging neckline to display her deep cleavage, and a micro-mini short double-slit skirt that really accentuated her well-rounded hips. The witch accessorized with chandelier earrings, black thigh high stockings, and black thigh boots.

“Did you find anyone who had seen the orcs? Maybe didn’t realize what they’d seen?”

All four men blinked, brought back to the real world.

“We did, boss,” Darius said. The ex-Marine glanced at the other three men. “We found three people, two pushers and a hooker, who said they saw one or more of the ‘ugliest’ looking men ever.”

“They didn’t get good looks at them,” Hector said. The ex-Army soldier was an Afghanistan vet like the other three. He was three inches shorter than Darius. “The orcs are wearing human clothes, mostly dressed in hoodies with the hoods covering their heads and most of their faces.”

“They’ve already begun to blend in?” she asked. And silently wondered, How smart are they? I thought they were stupid, savage monsters.

“Yeah, yeah, boss, and they were all seen down in the south side of Sugar Town,” Teddy said. The ex-Marine was the smallest of the men at six four. “And they seemed especially interested in the hookers.”

“That’s right,” Darius said. “The hooker said she saw them hire two streetwalkers and vanish into an alley about two hours ago.”

“Hookers?” Wicked Wanda said, shaking her head. “I summoned stone-age monsters to an alien world, into a modern city with technological wonders that would be magical to their primitive brains, yet they just want hookers?”

“Everyone wants Earth girls, boss,” Bobby said, grinning. “Earth girls just wanna have fun. Everyone knows that.”

“Funny,” she said, giving Bobby a cold look.

The ex-Army Ranger seemed too amused by the orcs’ need for pussy. But then again, all four of her minions were extremely virile men, constantly ready to score a shot of ass. Indeed, she spent most Wednesday and Saturday nights with her boys. The witch needed sperm in many of her potions. Her minions always tried to impress her with their prowess, so a good time was had by all.

“There’s a turn of the century warehouse district south of Sugar Town,” she said. “Lots of rundown, abandoned warehouses to hide within. Check them out.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Darius said. “But, you know, it’s Saturday night.”

Wicked Wanda felt a hot tingle between her legs. She kind of looked forward to Wednesday and Saturday nights, too. The current situation changed everything.

“No bonus until you find those orcs,” she said. “And then, if everything goes well and I regain control over them, I might give you boys an extra night of bonus time with me.”

Big smiles spread across their faces. She knew they were motivated by their dicks. It made it easier to keep them in line. Easier to manipulate them. She just had to give them the best pussy ever.

“We’ll find them, boss,” Bobby said. “Tonight. Guaranteed.”

“Perfect,” the raven-haired witch said. “The man who actually finds them first will enjoy a night with me. Just the two of us, doing anything you want.”

Hector and Teddy actually growled with desire. Yeah, she knew what motivated them. Their competition would make them try harder, too.

The four minions quickly departed. Wicked Wanda turned her attention back to the TV and her secret network of cameras in and around Sugar Town. After a few minutes, she spotted a super heroine lurking in the shadows – Purple Avenger.

“I would so love to capture you and…” she whispered, insides tingling. “But I have bigger fish to fry. Orcs. That orc shaman. And… Ms Patriot.”

Thinking of Grimme City’s Champion of Justice reminded her of the other super heroine pulled in with her summoning of the orcs. Where the hell did that busty blonde come from? The orcs’ world was primitive. That woman was obviously from a 21stCentury world. She had some arcane power over electricity, too. And like the orcs, the blonde heroine had vanished as well.

“The surveillance cameras aren’t much help,” she said, frowning. “It’s time I joined the search.” She paused, an amused thought making her grin. “My boys will be so upset if I find the orcs first.”

The busty witch stood and stretched. A wicked grin spread across her face. As much as she loved frolicking with her boys, it was just as much fun to frustrate them. After all, she could always take another lover or three.

She headed for the stairs up to her roof deck. Wicked Wanda lived in the heart of Sugar Town. The neon lit streets and public debauchery surrounded her. It was the wickedest place on earth, and that red light district sang to her heart. The energy of the place helped to fuel and shape her magic.

Striding across the roof deck amid a clatter of stilettos, she grinned and tingled all over. The witch started her spell as she walked, heading straight at the southeast corner of the roof. Before she was halfway, her spell lifted her up and off the roof to fly through the night sky.

There were only three Grimme City super heroines who could fly. The rest were tied to the ground like the rest of humanity. So she soared through the air with little concern of discovery and being attacked. Wicked Wanda headed due south.

Watching the street below, she still flew pretty fast. Finding those orcs was paramount. Once she located them, subjugated them, then she could finally use them to capture Ms Patriot. And then maybe the rest of the city’s super heroines.

I might keep Ms Patriot as my personal plaything, and then sell off the rest of those obnoxious busybodies.

The descendants of the mythical Valkyrie were so easy to brainwash. In just a few days, with lots of sex and magic, she could remold Ms Patriot’s very psyche and transform the haughty beauty into a submissive, sex-obsessed whore-minion. Her boys would enjoy that, too.

“The first thing I’ll do to her is…” Wicked Wanda came to a stop to hover fifty feet over the busy street. Her emerald eyes locked on three very large men peering out of an alley. “Are they orcs?”

She quickly cast a spell to identify them. They must have felt something, because all three stiffened and looked around.

“Orcs! But they are very sensitive to magic,” she muttered. “I’ll have to be careful.”

Heart racing, she started another spell to call up tentacles to wrap round their limbs and hold them in place. But she stopped. Maybe that wasn’t the best option.

“They don’t know I’m up here, so I can follow them back to the shaman,” she whispered. “Why capture three orcs, when I can have them all?”

Wicked Wanda waited for them to move. Waited at least twenty minutes. She was starting to run out of patience when one of them darted out, seized an African-American hooker by the wrist, and yanked her into the alley before she could even cry out. It happened so fast the witch almost missed it, but then the three orcs raced down the alley with their prize in hand.

“Wow. They’re good,” she said. “I wish my boys were that fast and efficient.”

The witch flew overhead, watching and pacing the orc kidnappers. The hooker squirmed in their arms, but they managed to keep a hand over her mouth. And then they surprised the witch. Instead of heading south to the warehouse district, they went east into an economically depressed neighborhood. She followed them to a large, boarded up house.

The house looked a hundred to a hundred and fifty years old. Definitely built in the late 1800s. Two stories, painted white, with a damaged roof. A balcony in back was rotted and falling apart. And there was a large yellow notice taped to a front window.

The house was scheduled for demolition by the city.

“I see light,” she said, grinning. “Firelight.”

Wicked Wanda looked at the chimney which had smoke coming out. She dropped down to the ground as soon as the orcs vanished inside with their captured hooker. She avoided the front porch, which looked rotten and dangerous. Going to a side window, she lifted up off the ground using magic to peer into the window.

“Bingo,” she said.

Orcs filled the ground floor. They lay sprawled round on the floor, coming and going from all visible doors. The shaman sat cross-legged next to the fireplace, which had a roaring fire. That fire was their only light.

The three hooker-nappers stood their prize before the shaman. He remained sitting, but used his staff to poke her boobs, belly, and crotch. He nodded, and that freaked out black beauty was promptly stripped. Then the orcs that nabbed her pushed her to the ground to all fours. One of them shoved his monster cock into her mouth, while another mounted her doggie style.

Wicked Wanda shook her head. Men of every sentient species were all horn dogs. Such a waste of potential. Then she noticed three other women, all naked and getting reamed out by at least two orcs at the same time. The other three women performed in a daze, bright silver collars around their throats.

“Are they enchanted?”

The witch cast a spell to probe the three women. She tried to be careful, but several orcs paused to look around. The shaman remained unfazed, his attention on shouting orders in their barbaric language. So she continued with her probing.

“Just as I suspected, enchanted collars,” she whispered. “But no magic I recognize. Orc magic?”

Two orcs appeared to either side of her. Wicked Wanda turned back to the window and looked at the shaman. He was staring straight at her, an ugly grin on his even uglier face.

“Fuck me,” she grumbled, and started casting a spell to disable the two orcs threatening her. But then another orc screamed a battle cry above her. She looked up to see a dark shape plummeting towards her. “No!”

That’s all she got out before the massive weight of the orc smashed down upon her. The gorgeous witch was slapped out of the air. She hit the ground hard, with the orc landing on her chest. All of the air was forced out of her lungs, leaving her gasping desperately for oxygen. The three orcs quickly took advantage of her helpless state, binding her arms and legs, and forcing a ball-gag into her mouth.

Where’d they learn about ball-gags?

While the gag would stop her from casting spells, her main concern was breathing. They cut off her best source of air. She continued to struggle for air through her nose as one of the orcs lifted her up, threw her over a shoulder, and headed into the house.

Wicked Wanda was rudely dropped on the floor at the shaman’s feet. She lay in the fetal position, desperately sucking in air. The shaman slowly paced around her until her breathing slowed and she was able to regain control of her wits. The busty witch struggled to her knees, before struggling against her bindings. Then he stopped before her and dropped to one knee.

The shaman cupped her chin, forcing the witch to look him in the eyes.

He spoke to her, but in his orcish tongue. She didn’t understand a word. He scowled at her, before bending down and pressing his forehead to hers. The orc shaman spoke a spell, and soon heat filled her head. It built and built until the pain was too much to bear, and then it rushed out of her head and into his.

The shaman reeled back, gasping. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. After a moment, he relaxed and looked at her again. The cruelest looking smile spread across his hideous, bestial face.

“Now I speak your tongue, witch,” he growled out.

He palmed a tit, giving it a firm squeeze. She groaned in agony, the pain rippling through her. Then he released her boob, pulled a knife, and cut her dress off.

“To orcs, witch,” he growled. “Human women are nothing but broodmares to give us more sons. More warriors.”

Her jaw dropped. Broodmares? Her? Was he serious?

The shaman moved around behind her. Her head whipped back and forth, looking back over her shoulders as he pulled off his loincloth. Rough, callused fingertips stroked her butt crack, from puckered anus to suddenly hot and wet pussy. Her eyes rounded. Was he about to do what she thought?

I’m a witch! I’m powerful! You can’t – “Uggggh!”

The shaman thrust the biggest cock she’d ever felt into her. No warning. No taunting. Barely any touching prior. Just shoved it in like she was a piece of fuck meat.

He grabbed her silky black hair and yanked her head back. Wicked Wanda grunted and gasped, head spinning, as the orc shaman reamed her out hard and fast. Her insides turned to a hot, fluttering mess in nothing flat.

As he fucked her, another orc brought over a roughly forged rod of pure silver. Wicked Wanda idly wondered where they got silver. Her eyes locked on that rod. The shaman accepted it, and started chanting in his scary language. The silver became soft like a rope in his hand. And then he wrapped it around her throat without missing a thrust. She felt it cold against her skin, despite it being “molten.”

“With this collar, I claim you for the horde,” he snarled in her ear. “You are our broodmare, witch.”

Wicked Wanda cried out, eyes huge, as she felt insidious magic flow out of the newly made silver collar. It filled her head with coldness, slowly stilling all of her thoughts. She managed one tiny squeak around her gag before her body relaxed and her mind became perfectly calm and clear.

He then removed her ball-gag.

“You are ours.”

“I am yours.”