by Don Ship
“Oooh, as expected,” Layla said. “My counter-offer: You surrender and I promise that you will not be beaten bloody, and that I’ll use my considerable influence within this club to ensure you are only fucked while secured with light bondage.”
“You’re not funny.”
“I’m not joking.” Layla quickly snatched up an Bliss capsule and snapped it, but Ms Patriot lunged straight back, avoiding being blissed out a second time that day. “Damn. You’re fast.”
“I am a superior woman, Layla,” Ms Patriot said haughtily. “It’ll take more than that to take me down.”
“You don’t have your vaulted and all important power belt, Ms Patriot. You’re just a hot piece of ass in a very sexy, very skimpy costume right now,” Layla purred.
Her hungry eyes looked the sexy super heroine up and down, three times. She seemed to grow hornier as the seconds ticked by. Worse still, the door into the office was definitely starting to give. Very soon three big, beefy bouncers would be charging in, and Ms Patriot was starting to have some doubts, which was a new thing for her.
“I’m more than my power belt, miscreant,” Ms Patriot said, baby blues darting all over the room trying to find something, anything she could use to save herself. There were no other doors out of the office, and no windows. It was a dead-end. “I am an experienced super heroine, and have been in worse situations than this. This is your last chance, Layla, for a light sentence.”
In answer, Layla pulled out a desk drawer and pulled out a pistol. She pointed the .357 Mag revolver at Ms Patriot’s chest and cocked it. The dominatrix savored the way Ms Patriot’s arrogant baby blues grew wide with fear.
“Stick ‘em up, Ms Patriot,” Layla said. “Reach for the sky.”
Ms Patriot gawked a second, then glanced down at her waist, sans belt. The belt provided her missile weapon protection. No belt meant she could be shot and killed. With a cold knot in her stomach, the super heroine raised her red gloved hands.
“You’ll regret this decision, Layla,” Ms Patriot growled, baby blues fierce and defiant now. “You have the upper-hand for the moment, but I always escape. I always come out victorious in the end.”
“There’s a first for everything, Ms Patriot,” Layla said. “Now, walk over to the door and unlock it.”
The sexy super heroine glanced nervously at the door, still being pounded on, and back at the gun. She hesitated a bare second longer, then slowly turned and walked over to the door. Then keeping out of the slamming open zone, she reached over and started unlocking the four locks. As soon as she started unlocking the door, the banging stopped. She could hear them outside the door asking what it meant.
“Good girl,” Layla said once the door was unlocked. “Now, open it and walk out with your hands up.”
“This is your last chance to do the right thing, Layla,” Ms Patriot said, hand on the knob. Layla just smiled smugly at her, and Ms Patriot rolled her eyes up to the heavens. “Goddess, why don’t they ever choose the right path?”
“Out. Now,” Lady Layla commanded. “Or I pump a bullet into one of those plump tits. Bet that would hurt.”
“You’re sick,” Ms Patriot said, eyes narrowing, but she turned the knob and pulled the door open. Then with her hands raised, the statuesque beauty walked out of the office and into the main room of Club Depraved.
“Hello, my pretty pets. Look what the cat dragged in?” Layla said. “Ms Patriot has agreed to be our afterhours BDSM plaything. Isn’t that sweet of her?”
“BDSM?” Ms Patriot said, eyes wide.
“Ms Patriot. Listen and obey,” Lady Layla commanded. “Stand straight. Chest out. Chin up. Suck in that gut. Feet shoulder width apart, knees locked. Excellent. See how well she takes orders?”
After a month as a BDSM slave in Club Depraved, Jennifer Jade had learned to obey without thought or question. Unfortunately, it had become such a part of her psyche that Ms Patriot obeyed Layla just as well. She couldn’t help herself. Indeed, the familiar surroundings, people and commands had her libido burning brightly. The sexy super heroine was so horny it hurt. The cold lump in her belly had turned into butterflies, while her cunt was burning hot, achy, and getting wetter by the second. Her tits were tingling, nipples rock hard and hypersensitive. Ms Patriot’s throat and chest were so tight she could barely breathe, forcing her to pant.
The sexy super heroine grew increasingly nervous as Lady Layla and her six oversexed, kinky “pets” circled her making comments and suggestions on how best to “utilize her abundant charms.”
“I think her lips are just too damn pretty to ignore anymore,” Layla said. “Boys and girls, line up and take your turn kissing Ms Patriot. The sexiest kiss gets to fuck her first.”
“What? I’m an American icon!” Ms Patriot cried. “You can’t give the me away as a sex prize. I demand respect.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” the first bouncer said, grabbing her head with both hands and planting a big wet kiss on her perfect lips.
Layla’s grin grew wider as she watched. Ms Patriot’s eyes went very wide as Ace claimed her full firm lips in a passionate kiss. Soon her eyes half-closed, and she absently mindedly pushed tongue was deep inside Ace’s mouth as their lips slid all around and all over each other.
Ms Patriot felt her resolve slipping fast. She was still suffering from the lingering effects of the Bliss in the board room, not to mention the endless hours of nonstop sex with men and women that followed. She was not even aware that her left foot lifted up off the ground, and her raised hands slowly wrapped her arms around Ace’s neck as their kissing became more and more passionate. Then when he wrapped his arms around her, and squeezed her tight, she groaned wantonly and her last feeble attempts to resist him crumbled.
“Next,” Layla said.
“Oh,” Ms Patriot gasped, released too soon from the kiss.
“She looks dazed and confused,” Julienne said as she stepped up eagerly. She gently cupped Ms Patriot’s face in both hands, and started sweetly kissing her full red lips between nuzzling her nose, cheeks, and neck. After less than a minute the vivacious super vixen was overcome with need and wrapped her arms around the beautiful blonde. “Ooooh, yes, Ms Patriot. Take me.”
“You’re so beautiful,” Ms Patriot said, baby blues filled with lust and need. She kissed the beautiful blonde BDSM sex slave. “Hhhhmmmmmmmmm.”
“Oh my, love me some hot girl-on-girl,” Layla said, squirming as she watched Julienne and Ms Patriot kissing so sensuously. “I can’t take it anymore. Julienne, get over here, kneel, and eat me out. Ms Patriot, kneel. Hands up again.”
Ms Patriot swallowed hard as she raised her red-gloved hands. Her heart was racing at a thousand miles an hour. Her body ached with need. She looked around at all the lusty faces, at Julienne kneeling before her mistress and unzipping Layla’s kinky outfit to get to her full Brazilian waxed cunt. Then she eased down to her knees sensuously.
“Joaquin, fuck her face,” Layla said, and then gasped when Julienne’s tongue penetrated her sensitive pussy lips.
Ms Patriot looked the massively built Mexican-American up and down, then her eyes locked on his crotch as he unzipped and pulled out a huge cock. The butterflies in her belly went wild as her mouth watered and cunt burned with need. With her hands still in the air, Joaquin seized her head with one hand, and guided his hard cock between her glossy red lips with the other.
“Eat me, super bitch,” he growled. Once her lips were stretched around his thick pole, Joaquin buried both hands deep in her silky soft black hair and took complete control of the sexy super heroine.
“Ngh. Mmmggh. Glk..ngh…nnnggghhhnnnn,” Ms Patriot said, the taste and smell and feel of his cock and crotch too much for the already weakened super babe. She started sucking. She listened to what he wanted, and obeyed. She always did, always, once a cock entered her mouth. The sexy super heroine had never been able to stop herself from giving oral pleasure once it reached that point. It was part of her Valkyrie Curse. The Bliss s
till in her system didn’t help. Sssslurp. “Ngh.” Slurp. Slurp. “Mmmm.”
“Lindsay,” Layla commanded another one of her personal BDSM sex slaves. The slave girl had long red hair, big green eyes, and wore a white bustier, lacy white hose and white stiletto pumps. “Crawl up between Joaquin’s legs, remove Ms Patriot’s top, and start sucking and playing with her ginormous tits.”
Slurp. “Ngh. Ugh. Mmmmm.” Ssslurp. Gulp. Sssssssslurp.
“Yes, Lady!” the sexy red-head cried eagerly.
Her mind all but scrambled, Ms Patriot felt Lindsay fumble with the zipper on her bustier top. Then it came off, and she felt her boobs released into the wild, dropping and jostling. The other sex slave’s hands were soft and long-nailed, and she had a sure touch. Lindsay knew how to give titty-pleasure to another woman, that was for sure. She fondled Ms Patriot’s tits perfectly, while doing an even more erotic job of nibbling, licking. and sucking on her hypersensitive nipples.
Slurp. Gulp. “Hhhgggh. Ngggh. Uh. Ugh.” Slurp. Gulp. Sssssssssssslurp.
The butterflies in Ms Patriot’s belly were burned away by the liquidy heat filling her up. She felt the first stages of an orgasm starting to build deep in her core.
“Keep your hands in the air, Ms Patriot,” Layla warned when she noticed the sexy super heroine was starting to fondle and caress Joaquin’s butt. The costumed crime-fighter raised them back up, and Layla smiled. “Better.” Then she motioned the last slave girl forward. “Sexxi. Remove Ms Patriot’s skimpy little shorts, then I want you to masturbate her and bring this hot scene to a rousing climax.”
The gorgeous, busty blue-eyed brunette jumped up and down with glee, clapping her hands. She was rather short, at five foot even, wearing electric blue bikini and matching strappy stiletto pumps. The sexy sex slave hurried over behind Ms Patriot, dropped to her knees and ripped off the blue, star-spangled shorts. Then she thrust long, delicate fingers between the Ms Patriot's wide spread legs and found her dripping wet cunt. Ms Patriot’s engorged clit was almost impossible to miss at that point.
“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggggghhh,” Ms Patriot groaned in intense pleasure, pushed to the brink of orgasm almost the second Sexxi started rubbing her clit. Slurp. Slurp. Gulp. “Mgh. Ngh. Uuuuuummmmmm.”
Ms Patriot’s back arched, her baby blues crossed, and she groaned long and sensuously. They were pushing almost every button she had. It was so damn sexy. So erotic. Just felt so…right.
“She’s about to come, Lady!” Sexxi cried, redoubling her efforts masturbating the sexy super heroine.
“Yes!” Joaquin cried, and started pumping cum across Ms Patriot’s tongue as she gave him intense head. Then he pulled out and started shooting cum into her gorgeous, masked face. “Take it in the face, you sleazy super whore.”
“Aaaaaaagggghhhhh!” Ms Patriot cried, throwing her head back as she climaxed. And climaxed again. “Aaaaaaaaaaaggghhhh! Oh YES! Aaaaaaiiiieeeee! I am TAMED!”
“OH MY GOD!” Lindsay cried, turning a face dripping with milk to her mistress. “Her tits squirted milk when she climaxed.”
“Really?” Layla said. “She didn’t do that last time she was here under our power.”
Layla disengaged herself from Julienne’s delightful mouth and tongue, and walked over to Ms Patriot. She cupped the sexy super vixen’s chin, turning her face to and fro as she admired the way the viscous cum slowly oozed across her face.
“You seem so familiar to me, Ms Patriot. Who are you? Who is hiding behind that mask?” Layla said, tracing the mask with one finger.
“I…I am…I am…Coming! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhh!”
Layla laughed, then used her fingers to scoop up all the cum on Ms Patriot’s face and forced her to eat it, licking her fingers clean. Then she had Lindsay come over and lick the super heroine’s face clean.
Ms Patriot knelt before Lady Layla, hands in the air and Sexxi still masturbating her from behind. The sexy super heroine looked up at the beautiful dominatrix who controlled her so thoroughly. The woman that owned her alter ego, Jennifer Jade. The vile woman who for all practical purposes now owned her as Ms Patriot. The very scary woman with a very frightening interest in her mask.
“Don’t do it, Lady Layla,” Ms Patriot said, her voice deep and husky from so much sex. “If you unmask me, then you will cross a threshold into a deeper level of criminal conduct. It is a one way path to prison.”
“But I’m ssooo curious, Ms Patriot. Isn’t everyone?” Layla purred as she again traced the mask with her finger. "Ace, take her up on stage. Chain her to the stripper pole. Get cameras seven and twelve aimed at her. I want seven zoomed in on her face."
There was only one stage with a stripper pole, and it wasn't the main stage. Ace and Sexxi each grabbed an arm and Ms Patriot was dragged over to that stage, and lifted atop it. She was forced to remain on her knees, and Ace even made her crawl over to the pole. Then with her back to the stripper pole, and kneeling, the super heroine's wrists were locked into manacle above her head. Sexxi placed shackles on her ankles.
Ms Patriot, depowered, debauched, and helpless, knew she wasn't going to escape her fate. Knew that Lady Layla was going to truly own her now.
Her mistress did a slow, sensuous strut over to the stage, and was lifted atop the stage by Ace.
"The cameras are on and recording, mistress," Lindsey's voice boomed through the speaker system. "Seven is zoomed in for a tight shot of Ms Patriot's face."
"Perfect," Lady Layla said, caressing Ms Patriot's cheek. She leaned over and kissed her captive. Standing tall, she pointed at her exposed, waxed pussy. “Kiss it, Ms Patriot.”
Ms Patriot pushed her face into Layla’s crotch. It was something she did as Slave Girl Jennifer almost nightly. As always, she led with her extended tongue, giving the slippery slit a quick tongue caress before her full, firm lips pressed against it. She pushed her tongue in, licking firmly and deeply, before flicking Layla’s clit and breaking the kiss.
“Oh my God, that’s exactly how Jennifer Jade cunt kisses me,” Layla said, gawking down at the startled super heroine.
Ms Patriot’s shapely body went cold. Her mind went blank as she gawked up with big baby blue eyes. A long second later, her heart began racing as liquidy heat started flowing throughout her voluptuous body. She knew she unwittingly committed a terrible error.
Her mistress reached for her mask. Instinctively she turned her face away. When Layla again reached for her mask, Ms Patriot whipped her head back and forth.
"Please don't!" she cried. "I'm willing to strike a deal!"
"Deal with this!" Layla said, kicking her between in the pussy.
The surprise and pain made Ms Patriot freeze. Layla thrust her finger under the mask’s edge, and through an eye hole before the super heroine could recover. Then Layla started pulling, double-sided tape holding at first. Ms Patriot gasped, throat and chest tightening. Her stomach twisted into a painful knot as she sucked in a sharp breath and held it.
“Let’s find out who you really are, but I think I already know,” Lady Layla purred. As the mask slowly pulled away, hot tears roll out of Ms Patriot’s baby blues, sliding down across her smooth cheeks. “And…you…are…mine! Jennifer Jade really is Ms Patriot! Oh yes!”
“Great Freya, I am truly your slave now!” Ms Patriot cried miserably.
“It gets better, Slave Girl Patriot,” Lady Layla said, pulling the sexy super heroine’s hair and pulling her head back. “I know all about how super heroines are vulnerable to sexual exploitation. How “pliable” they become the more they are climaxed. How maleable their pathetic little minds are when in the throes of pleasure.”
“Oh Goddess,” Ms Patriot gasped out, baby blues even wider as dread gripped her heart.
“Before we all leave tonight, you will be thoroughly brainwashed,” Layla said triumphantly. “And even more my slave than anyone could imagine.”
Chapter 6
The next night…
Jennifer Jade parked her white
Mercedes Benz in her assigned parking spot, in a parking garage just one block from Club Depraved. It was ten minutes to six in the evening. It’d had been a stressful day at work as she sorted out her new business/sexual relationships with everyone at work. Absolutely everyone at Jade Enterprises wanted a piece of her sweet round butt, and Layla commanded they get what them want.
“What Lady Layla wants,” Jennifer said, double-checking her make-up in the rearview mirror. “Layla gets.”
Jennifer got out of her car, and opened the trunk. She pulled a black nylon gym bag out, and slung it over her shoulder. Her heels clacked on the concrete as she headed for her night job. She couldn’t help but smile as everyone turned to watch her walk past. Of course, she was wearing a black spandex micro-miniskirt, bright red leather corset, and lots of shiny jewelry.
The club opened at six, so there was a line forming at the front door. Jennifer was an employee, so she went to the back door. It was guarded by Stan the security guard. He scowled at her. Jennifer grinned back.
Stan wasn’t happy that Lady Layla forced him to give up her stolen costume, including the power belt. Jennifer was forced to watch as Layla caused just enough damage to the all important power belt to neutralize it, leaving Jennifer forever depowered.
“You know the deal,” Stan said, unzipping.
Jennifer dropped her bag, and got down on her knees before him. The sexy billionaire sex slave pulled his semi-flaccid cock out and stroked it until it was good and hard. Then she locked eyes with the wickedly grinning security guard as she slowly wrapped glossy red lips around his cock head.
“Mmmmm,” Jennifer groaned, loving the taste and feel of cock in mouth. Indeed, since her enslavement the curvaceous beauty was growing more and more obsessed with blow jobs. Slurp. “Ngh. Uuggh. Mmmmm-mmmm.”
Jennifer possessed a natural talent for oral sex. She was damn good the first time she gave head, and got better and better as the years and captures progressed. She had some of Grimme City’s best teachers, after all – pimps, madams, and kinksters uncounted.
