Ms Patriot: Dark Crusade (Chapter 25) (Patreon)

Chapter 25

Grimme City, House of Joy, Mid-October…

Ms Patriot paused after slipping out of Mistress Tabitha’s Rolls Royce, formerly her limo. It was mid-October, the early evening air crisp. The soft murmur and car horns was the song of Sugar Town. Street people stopped to gawk at her. Yeah, she still demanded their undivided attention even after three and a half months as Mistress Tabitha’s slave.

The limo pulled away. The raven-maned ex-heroine struck a sassy pose, wearing only her super heroine mask, thongs, and thigh boots. Her mistress’s collar encircled her throat, with a leash taut between it and the dominatrix’s red-gloved hand. Ms Patriot posed for her audience while the House of Joy owner spoke with the doorman.

One of the bouncers on door duty, Ozzy, moved up beside Ms Patriot. He grinned as he palmed a heavy tit and lifted. Gave her a little squeeze. Just enough to get a reaction.

“Mmm.”

“That body is hard to resist,” he whispered.

Her baby blues cut over to his face, then past him. Lustful faces stared back at her. Really, stared at her well-displayed body. She was their twice nightly spectacle, and so BDSM salacious every time. But who couldn’t look? After all, her spectacular body was oiled to an enticing gleam, with her wrists handcuffed behind her back, hobble chains between her ankles, and a bright red ball-gag buckled in tightly. The city’s former premier super heroine was the epitome of the sexy BDSM slave. The nipple clamps with tiny silver bells didn’t hurt.

Ozzy’s free hand grabbed a greedy handful of meaty butt cheek. Gave her a squeeze and rub, before his fingers dipped into her butt crack. Some of the street people got excited, as well they should. Ms Patriot knew Ozzy too well, so knew where that was going. Seconds later, his fingertips slipped under her thong bottoms to probe her puckered anus, before slowly penetrating.

“Mmm.”

“That’s right. That’s right,” Ozzy growled softly. “You like getting molested.”

She nodded. “Mmm.”

“You love getting sexually molested in public, with lots of witnesses watching and wishing it was their hands on your hot little body.”

She nodded. “Mmm.”

“Tonight is my night, Ms Bootilicious,” he continued. “I get to nail your fine ass after closing tonight.”

Ms Patriot nodded. “Mmm.”

She knew the schedule. Every night, after the club closed and before her mistress went home, The staff got to fucked the slave girls. That included the slaves working as dominatrixes: Vanessa, Prudence, and Madame Vu. Ms Patriot and Patriot Slut were, of course, the girls they all wanted, so schedules were set up to fuck them. And there was rarely any BDSM play at that time, just intense raw-dog fucking.

Since it was Thursday night, Patriot Slut was back at Jade Manor for her weekly all-nighter with Clive. Tuesday nights Ms Patriot spent the evening and night with the ancient butler. It was something she now looked forward to, and not just to have a night off from relentless bondage and discipline.

“Heel,” Mistress Tabitha snapped, giving the leash a little tug.

Ms Patriot forgot Ozzy, her full focus on her mistress. Her mistress was in a mood. She didn’t know what pissed Mistress Tabitha, but the redhead usually took it out on her slaves. And Ms Patriot was Slave Numero Uno.

The redhead entered the BDSM sex club with a sassy strut, followed by her obedient slavegirl. Like her mistress, Ms Patriot gave the patrons a sexy strut that bounced her hair, boobs, and butt enticingly. She was paraded around the main parlor, before being led into the smaller parlors. Finally, Mistress Tabitha sat on her throne, with the slavegirl kneeling beside her.

“Let the games begin,” Mistress Tabitha proclaimed, though the club had been open since eleven that morning. “Madame Vu, please remove my slave’s ball-gag so she may give pleasure with her lovely lips and talented tongue.”

The beautiful Vietnamese dominatrix hurried over and removed the gag. Ms Patriot sighed with relief.

I’ll never get used to being ball-gagged.

Madame Vu stepped around in front of her, and then scooted her right foot forward. Ms Patriot leaned over, balanced precariously upon her knees thanks to wrists bound behind her back, and started kissing and licking that shiny black patent booted foot. She moaned and groaned, putting her all into that intimate, debasing act of subservience.

“You call that licking boot?” Mistress Tabitha snapped, eyes flashing as she lifted her riding crop.

“I beg forgiveness, Mistress!”

Mistress Tabitha ordered her wrists freed.

“There. Now you don’t have any excuse,” the dominatrix sneered. “Lick boot, and make it beautiful and sexy.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Ms Patriot really put her heart and soul into licking Madame Vu’s boot. She open-mouth kissed, licked, and nuzzled that cool, smooth patent leather. Still wasn’t good enough for her mistress.

Thwack! across the ex-heroine’s lower back. Thwack! across her sweet round butt.

“I said…” Thwack! “Lick boot properly!” Thwack! Thwack! THWACK!

The pain filled her mind, her very being. Why was she hitting her so hard? What was she doing wrong? Why was her mistress so angry tonight?

“What the hell? Is it that time of month?” Ms Patriot screamed, rolling back to sit on her legs.

Mistress Tabitha surged to her feet. “How dare you!”

The redhead swung the riding crop. Ms Patriot braced herself. Swats across the boobs were the most painful. But the crop smashed into the side of her face. Right across her left cheek.

She. Lost. Her. Mind.

“Bitch!” Ms Patriot screamed, and surged to her feet. A knee went up between Tabitha’s legs. The dominatrix bent over in agony, an astonished look on her lovely face. But Ms Patriot wasn’t finished with her. Her pain and rage knew no bounds in that moment. Ripping the riding crop away, the ex-heroine started whipping the shit out of her mistress. She hit her across the throat, the face, the tits. When Tabitha collapsed to all fours, Ms Patriot rained blows down across her back and butt. All that thin, tight latex did nothing to mute the intensity of the strikes. “You stupid, arrogant BITCH!”

Huffing and puffing, Ms Patriot finally stopped. Mistress Tabitha lay at her feet, curled up in the fetal position, sobbing. The patrons gawked at her. The bouncers and staff stared open-mouthed. Everything appeared so clear to her. It was destiny.

The raven-maned beauty stepped over Tabitha.

“Tabitha is shown her weakness. She’s pathetic. She is no longer mistress of anyone or anything,” Ms Patriot said. “I am the new mistress of the House of Joy. I am… Mistress Patriot.”

And she sat upon the throne. No one challenged her. No one spoke a word. They just stared at her in awe. She smiled at them. Then she indicated the sobbing redhead.

“Madame Vu, bind Tabitha. Put a leash on her collar, and then hand it to me. I own Tabitha now. She is my slave,” she commanded.

And Madame Vu obeyed. In less than a minute Tabitha was handcuffed, kneeling, head bowed before the former super heroine. A broken woman.

“Tabitha is cowed. I might transform her into a sexy hucow for my patrons to enjoy,” Mistress Patriot sneered, leaning forward to lift Tabitha’s chin with the riding crop. “Say moo.”

The redhead’s eyes widened. She hesitated. Mistress Patriot’s hand tightened on the crop, baby blues narrowing as they bore into the vanquished dominatrix. Uncertainty spread across Tabitha’s face.

“M-Mooo.”

“Good, little slave cow,” she sneered. She looked up and around, locking eyes with each of the bouncers around the room. Six in all. “Boys. Time to initiate Cow Tabitha into the stable. Line up. Gang bang this cow stupid.”

To her surprise, not a one of them hesitated. Indeed, wicked glee spread across all of their faces. Mistress Patriot nodded, understanding. Mistress Tabitha could be very nice, but she could also be very cruel to her staff. The lower on the totem pole your position, the less likely she’d be nice to you. She definitely had her favorites, and a curse upon all the others.

“Madame Vu, strip this cow.”

The Vietnamese dominatrix-slave obeyed without hesitation. She forced Tabitha to help, and they quickly peeled off all that tight, shiny latex and leather. Then Mistress Patriot ordered her back into the lace-up thigh boots and gloves. Because, she really liked that look. Reasons.

“You’re up first, Randy. Smash that pussy.”

Tabitha stood facing Mistress Patriot, a look of disbelief on her lovely face. Randy and Madame Vu forced the defeated dominatrix to bend her back, thrust out her butt, and hold that position. Randy seized her wrists, keeping her arms wide. Madame Vu reached in and guided the bouncer’s big white dick straight into Tabitha’s hot, wet pussy.

“Uggggh!” the redhead cried, eyes rolling up. “Oooooh, Goddess.”

Mistress Patriot crossed her long, thigh-booted legs. Leaned back and smiled. She placed the riding crop across her lap, lifted her right hand, and snapped her fingers.

“Wine.”

“Red or white?” a serving girl asked.

“Red. Everyone knows red wine is served for gangbangs. Red wine for everyone. On the house.”