Ms Patriot: Dark Crusade (Chapter 22) (Patreon)

Ms Patriot: Dark Crusade

Chapter 22

A sharp yank forced her clattering through the door. The room was dimly lit, but she saw all the faces turn to regard her in silence. The music came to an abrupt stop a heartbeat later. The shapely super heroine stood tall and proud, dark eyes narrowing in a look of contempt and defiance.

“Welcome, Purple Avenger,” King Pimp’s voice boomed over the loud speaker.

The African-American heroine wanted to return a biting retort, but the purple ball-gag filling her mouth ensured she couldn’t. She struggled against the handcuffs holding her arms behind her back, only managing to jiggle her large, firm tits in their skimpy little bikini top. Her flaring hips swung from side to side, butt and thigh muscles flexing.

A soft moan of desire rose up around her, bringing the wide-eyed beauty to a stop.

Purple Avenger scanned the room, left to right. There were two very small, round stages. Only a couple feet off the floor, but with stripper poles. Topless blondes still spun around on both, despite the loss of music. The customers were two-thirds white, the rest split between black and Hispanic. The strippers doting on them were much more diverse, all young and beautiful and wearing the skimpiest outfits and heels. Mostly lacy lingerie. Quite a few wore very bright, neon colors to draw attention to themselves.

Why? she wondered. Are they… Free? Not sex slaves?

Most of the men were in suits, loosened ties. Businessmen. Enjoying Happy Hour at the whore house before heading home to the wife and kids. The rest wore jeans and tees, or hip-hop clothes. Ages ranged from early twenties to eighties. And the Palace’s stripper-whores fawned over each and every one of them as if they were kings.

A man to her right reached over and grabbed her inner thigh, halfway between the top of her boot and her thong covered twat. He gave her a firm squeeze, then stroked her silky smooth skin. The vanquished heroine didn’t have the physical strength to break free without her power belt. And she didn’t want to put on a sexy struggle show for those degenerates.

“Ah, man,” a guy to her left called out, reaching out to first cup, then stroke her bare butt cheek. “This ho’s hiney is still bright red, with welts.”

Heat flushed her face. Why did he have to point that out? She was a sex slave, and her last two tricks had spanked her. Also, the blonde bitch that fetched her down from the Super Heroine floor used a riding crop on her butt all the way down.

Her blonde handler was so typical of the girls in the Palace, dressed in a lacy neon pink bra, thong, and garter belt. Garters held up pink hose, with pink patent thigh boots sheathing long legs. No gloves, but her long nails were the same shade of neon pink, as were her lips.

Just you wait, Tiffany, she thought. You’ll get yours someday.

Tiffany yanked her leash again. Purple Avenger stumbled forward a few steps, out of the hands of those two molesters. And then the other hooker swung the riding crop at her sweetly rounded butt.

Thwack!

“Your fat ass is so pretty when pink,” Tiffany sneered.

Thwack!

“Uuuummm,” the heroine groaned, eyes fluttering closed. So hard to hold in her reactions. She didn’t want to say or do anything that gave them pleasure, but it was so hard. So hard. “Mmmm.”

Before the busty beauty could recover, the blonde hooker struck out in a sassy strut toward the main stage. Purple Avenger had no choice but to follow at the end of that taut leash. She didn’t make it easy for the other girl, but she was just as determined to not give them a show.

“Mmm. Mmmm. Mmmm, look at that super heroine strut, boys,” King Pimp called. “She’s trying so hard to not look hot and desirable, but she’s a horny little heroine to the bone. And she wants to ride all of your big bones, too.”

Purple Avenger glared daggers up at King Pimp sitting at the back of the main stage on a throne. Like he was king of the world or something. The big black pimp wore an expensive gray silk suit, red tie, and big shit eating grin.

Worse, he’d pinned the costume she’d been captured in to the wall above him. Mask, bikini costume, opera gloves, thigh boots. And her all important Object of Power, her talisman, her power belt. It gleamed silvery above him, thumbtacked to the wall. She clamped down even harder on the ball-gag and shook her head.

Tiffany went up the side stairs, forcing her to follow. A cheer rose up from the audience. Up high, she could see the place was packed. No open seating. And then Tiffany surprised her by ripping off her bikini top, the force of which made her tits jostle enticingly. The blonde quickly grabbed an erect nipple, pinched as hard as she could, twisted, and jerked it back and forth to make teh heroine’s fat tit jostle violently. Purple Avenger screamed around the gag.

The audience laughed. So frustrating!

“She’s quite responsive to sexual stimulation,” Tiffany shouted in her irritating falsetto. The blonde then released the nipple, before slapping the heroine’s tits back and forth, up and down. “I could play with these puppies all night!”

Purple Avenger growled, stepped closer, and brought a knee up between the blonde’s legs. Tiffany’s eyes crossed, jaw dropped, and a tiny mew of pain escaped her glossy pink lips. The heroine then thrust kicked her in the belly, sending her flying off the stage to land in an audience member’s lap. His hands were immediately all over her, ripping off her top and plunging down under her thong.

A big hand snatched Purple Avenger up by her short, sassy bob. The pimp leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Do you want ME to work you over with a riding crop?”

A tiny whimper escaped. Purple Avenger relaxed and gave a little head shake. He grabbed a sensitive tit, giving it a hard squeeze. His other hand deftly unbuckled the ball-gag, which she quickly spit out. Oh, what a relief!

King Pimp, pressed up against her back, pulled her face up and to the side, and claimed her full lips in a deep, open-mouth kiss. Her mind went blank for a moment, while his hands boldly roamed her spectacular body.

“Who are you?” King Pimp demanded.

“Purple Avenger,” she gasped out, eyes widening.

“Who are you behind that mask?”

She hesitated. “Tanika Grayson.”

“You mean Grimme City’s own Assistant District Attorney Tanika Grayson?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

She licked glossy purple lips, swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes… Master.”

“There you go, my friends. The celebrated super heroine Purple Avenger is none other than the equally celebrated and honored ADA Grayson,” he shouted. The audience thundered with wicked glee. “What she suspects, but doesn’t know for sure, is I have already released her capture and unmasking video. So the world has known who and what she WAS for the past week.”

“Uggggggh,” she grunted, eyes closing as tears welled up.

“She doesn’t know it, but the DA has been forced to review every single case she tried,” he continued. “Three men have already been freed from prison, dozens more will likely be released due to her unethical, unprofessional, and even criminalconduct.”

That was a gut punch.

“On top of that, she’s spent a full week working on the Super Heroine floor, entertaining countless men. Men she’d arrested in the past. Men she’d prosecuted in the past. Men she’d sent to jail in the past. And Tanika ‘Purple Avenger’ Grayson sucked their dicks long and hard. She licked their balls, and they fucked her raw. Day in and day out. And in less than two hours on the job, she was fucking them back, giving as good as she got. This super ho loves fucking. She was born to be a whore.”

The pimp released her wrists from the cuffs. “Dance.”

Purple Avenger bowed her head, consumed with shame. Overwhelmed with humiliation. She teetered atop her heels, knees weak, and insides in turmoil. She’d failed, been enslaved, and everything good she had previously achieved was unraveling. Worst of all, everything her pimp just said was true. She’d never felt so lost, so broken and pathetic. She was nothing. A pretty little fuck toy for bad men.

She lifted her head as the music started, an up-tempo rock song. The audience looked up at her with expectant faces, eyes full of wicked glee.

I’ve been reduced to a bad conduct prize for those degenerates.

The beautiful black heroine began to move to the music. What choice did she have? Obey, and be their fuck toy? Or fight them and be whipped and beaten? So she danced, slowly becoming more and more suggestive as she went.

Men moved up to the stage, dollar bills folded lengthwise in hand. Purple Avenger bit her lip, glanced back at her pimp. He sat on his throne again, and nodded for her to go for it. So she sucked in a deep breath, and then danced over to the first man. He was a tall, slim Latino in a suit. She dropped to her knees before him, and flinched when he reached out to fondle a tit. She didn’t stop him, though. After a moment, she pulled her thong away from her hip. He slipped the bill under it, but then swept his fingers down under that tiny purple triangle. So tiny it barely covered her folds. Purple Avenger jolted when his fingers slid across her hot, wet pussy.

The heroine crawled over to a large, broad shouldered black man. She placed her gloved hands on those beautiful shoulders, leaned over, and rubbed her tits in his face. He kissed and nuzzled, before giving a nipple a lick. He slipped a folded dollar under her thong when she pulled it out. And that continued through five more songs.

Tiffany came back up on stage, still topless, glaring daggers at the heroine debasing herself. She carried a simple straight-back chair up, placing it front and center. King Pimp stepped up, kissed her deeply, and sent her back down. He pulled off his jacket, tossed it aside, and sat.

“Tanika. Give me a lap dance,” he called. “DJ, play Donna Summer’s Love to Love you, Baby.”

She released a put-upon groan, but stood up and faced the seated pimp. So big and strong, and he’d utterly dominated her for the last week. Part of her, deep, deep inside, wanted him so badly. The more rational part of her was utterly repulsed. He was her enslaver. The vile man that kept her in human bondage. The pimp who forced her to sell her body twenty hours a day.

Purple Avenger approached him slowly, as she shifted into dance with every step. She circled him, shaking her tits, swinging her hips. Her hands were all over his chest, shoulders, face. After dancing around him twice, she straddled his lap and rubbed her boobs all over his upturned face. Then she lowered herself into his lap, feeling his massive bulge press hard against her sex.

“Mmm,” she groaned, rubbing her hot, tingly, achy pussy against his cock-bulge.

Her heart raced, insides quickly melting. While she’d always been rather quick to arouse, the last week under his tender mercy had left her libido with a hair trigger. She told herself it was a self-defense mechanism to help her deal with her unfortunate condition. Help her deal with being fucked seven ways to Sunday day in and day out.

“Unzip me,” he whispered.

Her breath caught. Of course.

She deftly pulled that zipper down, and then fished out his erection. The crowd gasped, then even happier sounds emanated from the audience. They couldn’t hear his whispered command, so they had to think her naturalhedonistic needs and desired made her dig out his dick.

A purple gloved hand wrapped around that ginormous cock. With one hand on his shoulder for balance, she ground her twat against his balls while she stroked his cock to rock hardness. It didn’t take much effort on her part.

“Fuck me,” he commanded, so softly she wondered if she actually heard it.

Throat tight, heart hammering, Purple Avenger bit her lip and groaned. That wasn’t the first, or even the fifth, time he’d fucked her that day. She felt her love juices sloosh through her vagina, so hot and needy. Just soaked her thong, some of it leaking down her thighs.

“Mmm,” she moaned, holding her breath as she released his cock, pulled her thong to the side, and then guided him to her quivering, slick folds. Getting his cock head nestled up against her entrance, she caught and held his eyes… And dropped her weight. “Uggggh.”

His penetration was always profound. Biggest dick she’d ever fucked. So fucking big. It stretched her little hole out past the point of pain. She always felt every long, thick inch of him. Every single time. Every fucking thrust.

“I just wanted a fucking lap dance, but this slutty ho can’t fucking control herself,” King Pimp shouted to the crowd. “She’s the most cock-hungry heroine I ever owned!”

Heat flooded her cheeks. The beautiful black woman squeezed her pussy, and started bouncing on his cock. Both hands on his shoulders, she just stared into his face and fucked him. Rode him hard and fast, trying to get them both off as quickly as possible. Yeah, she hated to admit it, but damn she needed that orgasm, too. She deserved a happy ending after all she endured.

It always took a long time to bounce her way all the way down is dick. Totally scrambled her brain doing it, too. But this time Purple Avenger looked past him. Her eyes locked on her purple costume pinned to the back wall. Focused on her silvery power belt. Open. So easy to rip off the wall and wrap around…

“Oooooh,” she groaned when his big hands grabbed her tits and squeezed.

King Pimp pinched and twisted her sensitive nipples, sending the most insane sensations jolting through her hot, sweaty body. Gnawing on her lip, head lolling around, her eyes remained fixed on that power belt. So close. Just out of reach. But her master would punish her so badly if she even tried to grab it.

Her body changed. That rise to climax started when hot tingles flowed down into her thighs.

“No!” she cried. “I am… A… Super — ”

Her insides erupted. Her entire body pulsed with orgasmic glory. Then she felt her pimp peak and filled her womb with his hot seed.

Everything crystallized in her head. Eyes locked on that power belt.

“Now or never,” she gasped out.

“What?”

Purple Avenger threw herself straight up and off his cock. Her left foot came up onto his lap, thrusting her straight up. At the same time, she brought her right knee up into King Pimp’s chin. The power of her thrust upward sent her flying over the suddenly limp and collapsing pimp. She hit the floor running.

The audience cried out in shock. Staff charged straight at King Pimp to render aid. Purple Avenger leapt up to rake her fingers down the wall, dragging down every piece of her stolen costume. Stealing the pimp’s battle trophy. And finally, dropping into a squat, she wrapped the power belt around her tiny waist.

“Ooooh, yes, yes,” she whispered, feeling the erotic tingle of super powers infusing her shapely body.

Unfortunately, power belts were fueled by built up sexual frustration. It could be hours, even days, before she had protection against missile weapons like guns, super fast healing, and super strength.

“Time to get the hell out of here.”

The busty heroine took off running toward a door off stage. She burst out into the main corridor within the sex industry mega center. Men stopped to gawk. Not engaging anyone, the topless heroine ducked and dodged through the crowd, and right out through an emergency exit.