Ms Patriot: Dark Crusade (Chapter 43) (Patreon)

Chapter 43

“Mmmgh,” Justice Star moaned, struggling toward the light.

Oh, she hurt all over. Especially her nose!

“Mmmgh.”

“She’s waking up.”

Justice Star tensed. That was Patriot Girl. Did that mean…?

“Wake up, Justice Cunt,” Silver Girl sneered. “Momma wanna say welcome to the fam.”

Eyes fluttering open, she immediately assessed her predicament. She found herself sitting between the two blonde minions. Patriot Girl to her right. Silver Girl to her left. Mistress Patriot was in the front seat driving. Really, racing down the street like a maniac.

The wind was loud, buffeting her. Making her long hair whip around. Both back doors were missing, making her feel precariously close to falling out despite being between two others, both wearing seat belts.

Not the highway, but back streets. And the vehicle’s lights were off. Is she crazy?

Justice Star tried to speak, to threaten her captors, but something blocked her mouth. Filled it up. Her tongue explored it from inside her mouth, trying to push it out.

Ball-gag? That’s when she realized her elbows were tied to the opposite arm’s elbow. They used her opera gloves to bind her, which meant her Object of Power was exposed. She neither felt the silver ring on her left pinky, nor felt super powers in her body. Oh fuck me.

“Is someone just figuring out her dire circumstances?” Silver Girl teased, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “Poor baby.”

Justice Star went crazy struggling against her bindings. She bucked, twisted, and writhed to no avail. That’s when she discovered her ankles were locked in a hobble chain, taking away her legs as weapons.

“Mmmmgh!” she screamed around the ball-gag, eyes huge. She shook her head. Nonono! This can’t be. I can’t be captured by them!

“Mmm, this girl’s got moves, baby,” Silver Girl purred. “We’re going to have a wonderful time tonight.”

Coldness washed through Justice Star head to toe as realization of what was about to happen filled her thoughts. Captured heroines, Valkyries, were relatively easy to brainwash. It just required forcing them into the Curse of the Valkyrie. In other words, fucking them until they turned into mindless nymphomaniacs. At that time, their minds stilled and became empty vessels to fill with whatever the captors wished. Allowing the heroine’s captor to mold her into anything he, or she, desired.

Goddess help me!

“Call Tyrone,” Mistress Patriot commanded. “Tell him we have Justice Star and will pull up to the back door in a few minutes. I want him leading a security detail to protect us if heroines show up.”

Patriot Girl pulled out her phone and made the call. Justice Star listened to her brief conversation with the head bouncer. The mention of “heroine spray” sucked all hope out of her. No heroine had a defense against the aerosol blasters filled with Bliss instead of pepper spray. Bear spray for heroines, really. Those wicked weapons could reach out and touch a heroine in a very terrible way.

A moment later they turned onto another street and Justice Star saw the bright, flashing lights of Sugar Town ahead. They were on Anita Street, heading for the intersection with Cox. Heavy traffic brought them to a crawl. Mistress Patriot became agitated, constantly looking up and around through the windows. Justice Star looked at all the street people, mostly johns looking to hook up with a whore. But a lot of sexily attired hookers, shadowy pimps, and nervous pushers. The homeless shuffled through the mix.

Johns are just ordinary citizens. They might help me.

Justice Star wasn’t seat-belted down, so threw herself across Patriot Girl’s lap. And she screamed for help around the ball bag.

“Hhhlll. Huuullll!”

The gag muted the volume as well. Still, people on the sidewalk looked with curious eyes, clearly seeing her with the doors torn off. No one moved to help her.

Patriot Girl slapped a hand over her mouth, forcing the heroine’s head down into her lap while Silver Girl got control of the thrashing heroine’s legs. Mistress Patriot cursed under her breath, but continued driving to the alley behind the House of Joy.

“Mmmggh!” the heroine screamed when they came to a stop and were surrounded by large men.

The bouncers pressed up to either side, and then Silver Girl slipped out first. She pulled Justice Star out by her legs, where Tyrone and Ozzy held her between them. Then Mistress Patriot stepped up before her, smirked, and fastened a leash and collar round the vanquished heroine’s throat.

“Heel, Justice Slave,” she snapped, giving the leash a yank.

Justice Star had no choice in the matter. Well, two choices. Shuffle after the evil dominatrix like a puppy, or be pulled off her feet to land on her face on the cold concrete. She followed, while hating herself for even that minor bit of cooperation.

She looked up and around, praying for Uber Woman, Uber Girl, and Omega Girl to come falling from the night sky to rescue her. But the sky remained empty. No one came to save her.

They probably all went to Jade Manor looking for me.

She struggled to keep despair at bay. There had to be a way to escape her fate. The bad guys almost always made a mistake. And then she plunged into the darkness of the back corridor. Hardwood flooring made their stilettos loud, but she could hear music ahead of them. So the club was still open.

What time is it?

Mistress Patriot led the hapless heroine straight out into the light of the main parlor. Justice Star’s big hazel eyes widened as she looked at all the lust-filled faces. Not many. She counted eight members, mostly men, and a dozen employees. Her captor led her straight over to a man she recognized from TV news: Councilman Walter Edwards. The sixty-five year old white man had long gone to seed, though there was no shame in his game. All he wore was a black leather harness that crisscrossed his sunken chest and distended belly, with a simple steel ring around his exposed cock and balls.

That flaccid dick started rising, the blood of arousal flooding in at the sight of Justice Star in bondage. She was forced to shuffle up to him.