Ms Patriot: Dark Crusade (Chapter 6) (Patreon)

Ms Patriot: Dark Crusade

Chapter 6

“Who’s your daddy?”

Thwack!

“Uh. You’re my daddy,” Patriot Girl gasped out.

“Who’s your daddy?” Milo demanded, and swatted her other butt cheek.

Thwack!

“You’re my daddy! You’re my daddy!”

“Damn right I’m your daddy,” the bouncer snarled.

He slammed his cock into the bound, blindfolded sidekick’s ass, his hips slapping her sweaty butt cheeks. Milo held her tightly to his body while banging her ass, hands all over her jostling tits. Punch leaned against the wall, already redressed. It was time, so Milo needed to hurry up.

“Who do you love, baby girl?”

“I love you, Daddy.”

“Damn right you do,” he said, and both men laughed.

“The little cock sleeve is already lost in the Curse of the Valkyrie,” Punch said. “She’ll be easy to brainwash and train.”

Mile groaned, jaw clenched. He yanked his dick out of Patriot Girl’s tight ass, stood, and moved around before her. Palming the back of her head, he guided his nasty cock into her open mouth. The poor sidekick moaned in misery, but started sucking like a good slave girl should.

“Mmmm. Mmmmmmgh.”

It only took three thrusts into her hot, wet mouth before he emptied his nuts. Patriot Girl knew what her daddy wanted. She sucked and swallowed every drop, and then licked him clean.

“I’m a good girl,” she whispered. “I love my daddy.”

The two bouncers laughed. They dragged the helpless beauty to her stiletto-booted feet, and then cleaned her hot, sticky body with a warm washcloth and hand towel. They double-checked her bondage sleeve and hobble chain. And then Punch snapped a leash on her collar.

“Heel, slave,” Punch commanded.

The bouncers led the trembling, wobbly-legged blonde to the elevator. As the car lifted up, Patriot Girl’s mind began to stir. Thoughts other than dick, fucking, and sucking entered her thoughts. By the time the elevator stopped and the doors opened, she remembered who and what she was. Super heroine. Not a stupid sex slave. But she was captured by the House of Joy.

This sucks so much, she thought. Where’s Ms Patriot? Why hasn’t she saved me yet?

Patriot Girl sensed they exited the narrow confines of a corridor, and entered a very large room. She tried to remember the layout of the House of Joy. Best she could guess, they took her to the main parlor where Mistress Tabitha reigned like a Bondage Queen. Except, the only sound were hers and the two bouncers’ footsteps.

She was stopped a moment later. Hands pushed down on her shoulders.

“Kneel,” a deep, rich female voice commanded.

The heroine’s heart skipped a beat, then her knees bent and she dropped to her knees. She “looked” around, turning her blindfolded face this way and that, really trying to hear anything at all. Anything to tell her what to expect.

“Remove the blindfold,” the woman said.

Milo quickly pulled the black leather blindfold away. Bright light stabbed her eyes, forcing her to drop her gaze. Patriot Girl blinked, slowly adjusting to the light. First thing, she saw a pair of black thigh boots before her. Her eyes followed them up a black leather clad body, to a smiling face. A beautiful redhead. A very familiar woman.

“Ah crap,” Patriot Girl whispered, cringing. “I was afraid it would be you, Mistress Tabitha.”

“Your fear is well grounded, my pretty pet,” the club owner and dominatrix purred. “What a pretty little fucktoy you will be.”

Patriot Girl looked all around. As she suspected, Punch led her up to the House of Joy’s main parlor. It was really a meet and greet room, where the patrons chose their BDSM slave for the night. There were two stages with stripper poles, a bar, and a lot of small bistro tables. That room was all about alcohol and socializing.

It felt late in the night, so Patriot Girl assumed it was after hours. The patrons were all gone, as were the sex slaves. Just Mistress Tabitha and her evil staff remained. All were staring hungrily, expectantly at her. The blonde sidekick’s heart rate began to ramp up as her pussy tingled and ached.

This is going to be intense.

Mistress Tabitha stood, pulling in everyone’s eyes. Patriot Girl’s breath caught. The evil dominatrix and brothel owner was drop-dead gorgeous. Long, long naturally flame red hair, sapphire blue eyes, and the body of a super heroine. Well, the thirty year old redhead had big silicon boobs, but they looked amazing. She held a riding crop between her latex gloved hands as she grinned with wicked glee.

“I’ve waited a long time to get one of you holier-than-thou super heroines on her knees before me,” Mistress Tabitha purred. She stepped down off the three step high dais, her stilettos clacking loudly on the wood. Each step hit the hapless heroine like a punch in the gut. “So blonde and beautiful. You truly can’t fathom how much we will enjoy subjugating you. I tingle all over, inside and out, just thinking about breaking you to the whip.”

Patriot Girl’s eyes widened. “Br-Break me to the whip? Why d-do you have to do that?”

“It’s not a matter of having to or not having to, my pretty pet. It’s just what I do. What I love and adore doing to pretty little things like you.” She squatted before Patriot Girl, the sound of strained and stressed leather loud in that quiet chamber. Mistress Tabitha pinched the sidekick’s chin, pulling her glossy red lower lip down. And then she leaned over and kiss Patriot Girl. “Do not be afraid. Before I’m finished breaking and training you, you will love the sting of the whip. You will dream of it.”

Mistress Tabitha rose up to her full five foot eleven, scooted her booted right foot forward. Patriot Girl’s throat tightened as she stared open-mouthed at that shiny black foot. Patent leather, a light sheen of dust on it. So yeah, dirty. Had to be cleaned. The sidekick knew enough about the BDSM community in Sugar Town to know what Mistress Tabitha expected next.

“Kiss it, slave.”

“No. I won’t debase myself like that,” Patriot Girl said. Calling upon inner strength, she lifted her chin proudly. “I am a super heroine, not your bondage plaything. I demand you release me this instant.”

Mistress Tabitha stared at her a long moment, then looked around the parlor. And they all burst out laughing.

“She’s adorable,” Mistress Tabitha cried. “That’s the funniest joke I’ve heard in ages. Oh my. So funny.”

The redheaded dominatrix gave a subtle hand signal. Patriot Girl’s senses all went on high alert, but that didn’t matter. She was a securely bound prisoner, so incapable of defending or protecting herself. Tyrone proved that when he moved up swiftly, grabbed both pigtails, and yanked her straight back. She resisted, of course, and ended up bent over backwards, body bowed dramatically.

Mistress Tabitha smirked, stepped forward, and swung her riding crop.

Thwack! Thwack!

“Aaaiieee!”

Patriot Girl’s naked tits felt like they were on fire.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

“Stop! Stop!” she screamed. “What is wrong with you?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The shapely sidekick struggled with all her might against her arms in the black leather bondage sleeve. Uselessly. Mistress Tabitha whipped the hapless beauty from her loins to her neck, over and over and over. The evil redhead concentrated most of her abuse on the teen’s large, firm tits.

“Mercy! Please, mercy!”

“Are you going to be a good slave girl?”

“Yes! Yes!”

Tyrone shoved her back up, where she teetered atop her knees for a moment. Head spinning, the front of her torso stinging like hellfire. She looked down to find countless angry red welts crisscrossing her body from her tits down. Patriot Girl knelt there, trembling like a leaf, tears flooding down her face. Tiny injured animal sounds bubbled up.

Mistress Tabitha scooted her patent leather sheathed foot forward again. The captured sidekick whimpered, nodded, and leaned over that foot. It wasn’t easy balancing like that, but she gently kissed the toe of that boot. Looking up, she saw her mistress staring back down expectantly. So she kissed it again, with more passion. And then again.

“Lick it,” Mistress Tabitha commanded. “Toe to heel, until I tell you to stop.”

Patriot Girl obeyed, tears flowing, humiliation burning across her face. After only a few moments, she realized the men were stripping and lining up behind her. And then Tyrone grabbed her hips, and she felt his erection slip up between her butt cheeks.

She looked up at Mistress Tabitha with pleading blue eyes.

“I didn’t say stop.”

The vanquished masked vigilante nodded, and returned to licking boot. And seconds later…

“Uggh!”

“She felt that,” Tyrone said, sounding so pleased with himself. “Oh man. Sidekick cunt is tight.”

Patriot Girl groaned, feeling the burn of his over-sized cock in her bones. In her soul. He stretched her pussy out so sweetly. And she realized immediately that her body, her sex, hadn’t even started to recover from the intense session she had with Milo and Punch down in the basement.

Tyrone slammed into her like a man possessed. He quickly fully sheathed, and then forced the teen beauty to climax over and over, so close together. The big black bouncer scramble her mind, fucking her until all thought ceased.

And the Curse of the Valkyrie seized the young heroine.

“Yes. Yes!” she screamed. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck ME!”

Tyrone became frantic, and finally released deep inside her. She came twice at the feel of his happy ending. And then two more House of Joy staff fucked her like that, while she unsuccessfully tried to lick boot. Really, the sex was too intense for her to even think about licking. Fortunately, her mistress decided to not punish her for that failure.

“Put her on that rack,” Mistress Tabitha commanded. “Facing up.”

Patriot Girl’s bondage sleeve was removed. Oh, that felt so good. It didn’t last. The helpless heroine was led over to a playstation that was just a grouping of steel pipes jutting up from the floor to about waist height. She was held up by two men, while her shapely, red-booted legs were locked atop some of those pipes, leaving her legs spread quite wide. Then she was laid back, where her lower back, neck, and arms were locked down atop pipes. It left her horizontal to the floor, spread-eagle, and completely open to sexual exploitation.

Mistress Tabitha stepped up between Patriot Girl’s legs. Another woman quickly buckled a strap-on around the dominatrix’s hips and butt. The sidekick couldn’t do anything but gawk. That strap-on dildo was hot pink, ridged, and so long and fat she struggled to understand how her mistress could get it inside her. But Mistress Tabitha showed her a moment later, after the application of a lot of lube.

“Ugggggh! Too big!” she screamed. “You’re killing me!”

“You are so funny, my pet,” Mistress Tabitha purred. “Just relax. We’re all in for a treat.”

“Red! Red! My safe word is RED!”

“Ha ha! You never cease to amuse me,” her mistress said. “There are no safe words for sexy super heroines. You just have to grin and take it like the big girls you claim to be.”

While the dominatrix thrust into her, hard and fast, pushing deeper and deeper, one of the staff came around to look over her upturned face. He pulled out his cock, dropping it across her face. And then he ground his nuts into her mouth until she started licking and sucking.

After a good five minutes or more of tea-bagging, the man thrust into her mouth. With her head hanging so far back, he had a straight line down her throat. And his cock pushed past her barely there defenses, plunging deep into her throat.

By that time, Patriot Girl’s mind had gone still again. She surrendered to the Curse. Soon, she was bucking and writhing, moaning and groaning, while every single one of them took a turn. It was the longest night of her life.