Grimme City Heroines Down And Out Boxed Set: Grimme City Super Heroines in Peril (Grimme City Super Heroines in Peril Series)

by Don Ship

  “Perfect.”

  The legendary super heroine turned and regarded the building she was parked in front of. It sat at the edge of Grimme City’s more dangerous, most disreputable and depraved red light district — Sugar Town. It was a former hotel, now expanded to fill the whole block. The Palace was the premier cathouse in Grimme City, a city known for its houses of ill-repute. Ten stories tall, it bragged of having the top three “Gentlemen’s Clubs” in the city, and over one thousand extremely beautiful women to make every man’s most erotic fantasy come true. They catered to every fetish and perversion.

  The sight of the building she hated more than any other sent a chill down her spine. That chill turned into raging butterflies deep in her belly. Even her snatch started to moisten up. She hated it when that happened. King Pimp owned that brothel from Hell, and she’d never defeated him. Unfortunately, in her storied crime fighting career, he had gotten the drop on her five times. Each resulted in her getting her sweet round ass handed to her on a silver platter, and then him and his boys fucking her stupid. Fortunately, she’d always escaped before he could remove her mask.

  Her throat tightened and her hands began to tremble a tiny bit. The Palace and King Pimp always got to her. Ms Patriot fought to keep thoughts of what he did to her during those captures suppressed. The last thing she needed now was to be distracted by such disgusting thoughts. The man had zero respect for women in general, and super heroines in particular.

  Ms Patriot nodded at the two men in dark suits standing beside a long, black Rolls-Royce limousine. The license plate was BW-1.

  “Move fast, boys,” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” they said.

  They were big men, strong men. Jade Security officers, and both highly decorated war heroes. They cost a lot, but were well worth it.

  Taking a deep, deep breath to steady her nerves. “As soon as Ms Lynda Lynns comes out those doors you grab her and take her away to safety fast.”

  “Consider it done, ma’am.”

  “Her safety is my only concern right now, boys. Don’t let me down.”

  With that, Ms Patriot, Grimme City’s premier super heroine started walking towards the front door of the Palace. The usual doorman was missing, as were the big, hulking bouncers that usually framed the front door. She smiled, knowing she was the reason. Then with one more final deep breath, she pulled open the door and stepped inside.

  Ms Patriot’s heart dropped instantly. Lynda was on her knees, naked save for a pair of red stiletto pumps. A dog collar encircled her slender throat, with a leash attached and going up to King Pimp’s huge hand. The poor thing had a bright red ball gag fastened around her head. Tears of despair rolled freely down her flushed cheeks.

  The shapely super heroine had to quickly brush away a single tear rolling out of her eye. The main entry was packed with men and women, johns and hookers, bouncers and other staff. All were watching her expectantly.

  “Release Ms Lynns.”

  “Are you surrendering yourself to me?” King Pimp said. "You agree to take her place in The Palace…as a whore."

  Ms Patriot sucked in a sharp breath, heart hammering. Her pussy got hot and achy, throbbing. She struggled to control her emotions and breathing, to show those vile men and women nothing but contempt and scorn.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Lynda started shaking her head NO, frantically. Ms Patriot assumed a super heroine pose — head high and chin up, chest thrust out, gloved hands on well rounded hips, and one leg cocked. It was a sassy pose. She shook back her waist-length, glossy black hair and arched a haughty brow at the huge pimp.

  King Pimp was a monster of a man. He towered at six foot seven, with a short afro, broad muscular shoulders, and a narrow waist. She knew him to be a vicious fighter and a ferocious lover. He was as massively endowed as he was tall. He tamed her ass a few times, a thought that sent her libido into overdrive at that critical moment. Ms Patriot again had to fight to maintain her composure, or at least her outwardly appearance of being composed.

  “Release 'Lil Lynda,” King Pimp said.

  “But boss, Ms Patriot hasn’t surrendered properly to you. She is next to the door and still has on her power belt,” a bouncer said.

  King Pimp glanced at Ms Patriot. “Do you surrender?”

  “I surrender. I am yours to do with as you please, once Lynda is safely away.”

  “The power belt?” he said.

  The statuesque super heroine graced him with a tiny smile. “I’ll put it in your hand myself when Lynda is safe.”

  “What if I want it first?”

  “No. I can be trusted to keep my word. I don’t trust you.”

  King Pimp laughed. He released the leash to fall on the floor. “Get her out the door, fast.”

  Another bouncer grabbed Lynda by the arm and hauled her to her feet. She was hurried to the front door, right past Ms Patriot. Lynda reached out to her beloved mentor and guardian. Their hands touched briefly. Then she was out the door. Ms Patriot watched over her shoulder as Jade Security took Lynda away.

  Jennifer Jade had secured Lynda’s safety and future. Lynda didn’t know it, but she already possessed all of Jennifer’s wealth and companies. She was being taken to a secure location, where she would be safe from any threats.

  “Lynda is a free woman,” King Pimp said. “As I promised. Now, about your promise.”

  “It’s a good thing,” Ms Patriot said, suddenly seized by tremors. She fought them down, then took two deep breathes. The moment of truth had arrived. “Fate has spoken. I am yours, King Pimp.”

  “My lover?”

  “Lover. Whore. Porn queen, whatever you want.”

  “All of that, and much, much more,” King Pimp said, grinning wickedly. He pointed at his crotch, now tented by his raging hard-on. “Tend me. Make it pretty for the cameras.”

  Half a dozen cameramen stepped out of the stunned silent crowd. There were huge flat screen monitors high up on the walls all around the room, where sports or porno movies usually played. Now, those screens were filled with her. Her face, tits, ass, from different distances and angles. She felt her throat tighten some more, and her belly did a flip. Her debauchment would be well documented. King Pimp would make a fortune selling the DVD.

  “I am yours to command,” Ms Patriot said hoarsely. She stepped up to her new lord and master, and then dropped to her knees. Actually, she hesitated a second, kind of expected him to rip off her top, but he didn’t. Apparently he wanted her in full costume for the initial humiliation ceremony. Trembling red-gloved fingers fumbled with his zipper, but soon were pulling twelve inches of thick, black cock out of his pants. Without hesitation, the beautiful super heroine wrapped her full red lips around the head of that dick, and started swallowing him down hungrily. Indeed, she surprised herself even more than the spectators at how eagerly she went down on him. Oddly enough, she never saw the wanton groan she emitted coming. “Mmmmmmggggggghhhhhhh!”

  “A natural born whore,” King Pimp said. He watched as the cameras zoomed in for close-ups. Very tight close ups, of her glossy red lips sliding up and down the length of his full twelve inches. As great as it looked, it felt ten times better. “Tell everyone who taught you to give head and suck dick.”

  “You did, King Pimp. When you captured me that first time,” Ms Patriot admitted between loud slurps and tiny little moans and groans. “You took my virginity, too, right after my first cocksucking lesson.”

  The assembled masses hooted and laughed with glee at her admission. Ms Patriot felt her face flush, burning with shame, but at the same time her lower belly was raging. Her twat was hyper hot, soaking wet, throbbing. She was so damned horny. So she kept sucking, enjoying the taste of King Pimp’s cock, and hating herself for loving it.

  “Hmmmmmghh,” Ms Patriot groaned. She sucked on the head of his cock, rolling her hot, wet tongue all around it and then licked the thick black shaft from balls to head, and all around before swallowing him for som
e intense head, followed by equally intense deep throat. “MMmmmmmggghhhh.”

  King Pimp held up well, lasting a good thirty-five minutes of her most intense head and cock sucking. Then he grasped and ballooned her cheeks, the cameras zooming in to record the tiny bit of creamy white cum escaping around her lips. His coming sent her libido into overdrive. She squirmed on her knees before him, hungrily sucking it all down with an eager mouth — gulp…slurp…gulp…slurp…gulp…SLURP!

  “Didn’t I tell you?” King Pimp declared triumphantly. “Ms Patriot is not a superior woman, she is a superior WHORE. A wild WANTON whore. A whore born and bred, and now upstairs is her whore bed.” He threw back his head and laughed. “Who will be Ms Patriot’s very first paying customer? Who will be her first john?”

  "Memememememememe," they all cried hysterically.

  King Pimp laughed, then glanced down at the sexy super heroine still sucking and licking his cock and balls absolutely clean. Just like he taught her so long ago. She never failed to perform this all important service, either, without prompting, even after all those years. She was well trained, and he was proud to be the man who trained her.

  “Stand up, whore,” King Pimp said.

  “Now what?” she asked, rising up to face him in a not so haughty super heroine pose. Same pose as before, but this time with a softer, sultrier look on her beautiful masked face. “You want my belt now? Or my mask?”

  The thought of her handing over her belt really fired up his blood, but not as much as unmasking the arrogant, holier-than-thou super heroine. He so wanted to know who was behind that damned mask. But like always, he knew that once she was unmasked the mystic would be lost. Right now, she was super sexy Ms Patriot, unmasked she was just another big-jugged bimbo in a bustier and heels.

  “I think later,” King Pimp said, capturing and hold her eyes. He traced the edge of her mask with one finger, before pulling her lower lip down with his thumb. “After you are thoroughly tamed and indoctrinated into your new life as a brothel whore. Besides, don’t you think your very first john deserves to have you in full costume?”

  Ms Patriot felt overwhelming relief. Technically, she gave her sacred Word of Honor to submit to King Pimp’s every whim and desire, up to and including assuming a life of abject debauchery as his hooker. But if one of her sisters in crime fighting should arrive, and rescue her…well, it wasn’t her fault. There was so doubt about whether honor would demand she return to him. In fact, she purposely didn’t tell any of the other super heroines about what was happening, just so her honor would remain unstained if she was rescued. If she didn't set up the rescue, she was not breaking her word. Of course, the likelihood any of the other heroines knew of her plight was minuscule, but it was all the hope she had. Otherwise, once the mask came off her fate was set in stone.

  “Do I pick my first trick, or do you?” Ms Patriot said, glancing around at all the eager-eyed perverts. “You are my pimp now, after all.”

  Everyone of them, women included, wanted to impale her sweet round ass, and pay her fifty dollars cash for the privilege. In her fourteen years as Ms Patriot, she’d barely escaped actual prostitution more times than she cared to count. True, some deviants had caught her, tied her up, and charged men to have sex with her. But she was not actively prostituting herself. So she didn’t consider that being a hooker. There were quite a few handsome men in the crowd, and a lot of old and/or ugly men. Old, ugly, and depraved greatly outnumbered wholesome handsome men by a big margin.

  “Lottery,” King Pimp said. He signaled and his main squeeze and the Palace’s head Hostess stepped forward with a large bowl cradled in both hands. The gorgeous redhead was a former Playboy Playmate of the Year, and was wearing a black leather bunny costume complete with ears and cotton tail. Beverly Beavers was a stunner, and second only to Ms Patriot in that room. “Everyone who wants you took a number, and put it in the bowl. You will pick the number of your first paying customer.”

  The room fell silent as the super heroine reached into the large bowl. It was filled with little red tickets, the other half torn off by the hopeful johns. She stirred the tickets, driving the men crazy with anticipation. Ms Patriot realized she was enjoying herself. That seemed wrong, seeing as she was choosing who would be the man (or woman) to seal her fate, to finally after almost a decade, turn her into a official hooker. The winner of the lottery would turn her into the very kind of woman she hated and despised the most — a pathetic, wretched prostitute.

  Finally, the vivacious super vixen pulled out a single red ticket. She looked at the number, baby blues bugging out in shock. Then she shook her head woefully, knowing it had to be a sign from the Goddess that she was truly abandoned and doomed.

  “What number?” King Pimp said.

  “It’s…it’s…sheeze…,” she said, and took a deep breath. “The man, or JOHN, who gets the dubious honor of fucking me into whoredom, is…number…69!”

  Ms Patriot held the ticket out so King Pimp could read the number and he laughed. Indeed, most of the crowd noted the irony, and laughed. But no one hooted with glee more than the winner. Number 69 was a tall, freckle-faced redhead. He was just a little taller than Ms Patriot in her sky high heels, but lanky.

  “Strangely enough,” King Pimp said loudly. “Ms Patriot will be on the Super Heroine floor. Floor 6. Room 9. Or…room 69.”

  “Perfect,” Ms Patriot said. She shrugged. She was there of her own volition. She was doing the “right thing” and a very “good thing” to save her protégé. She was responsible for Lynda’s well being, so there she was. Taking Lynda’s place at The Palace. “Shall we go upstairs, lover?”

  Loverboy reached over and gave her big tits a firm squeeze. Ms Patriot slapped his hand away, but otherwise didn’t do anything. She really expected to be treated far worse than what she was getting. The john laughed, and patted her firm round butt cheeks. She let that pass, and took him by hand instead. Holding hands kept him from touching her further.

  “He still has to pay, Ms Patriot,” King Pimp called. “Fifty dollars for this first trick, one hundred after that. You are, or were, the premier super heroine in Grimme City, after all.”

  They all laughed at that. She didn’t think it was so funny. But then, she was the loser of this deal from Hell.

  “Perfect.”

  Ms Patriot led him into the elevator, and pushed 6. The elevator shot right up to the 6th floor. Far faster than she found comforting. It was as if even the building was eager to see her finally, forever slapped down and put in her place.

  The elevator doors opened up to reveal the legendary, infamous, and highly notorious Super Heroine Lounge Floor. They stopped to look around the elevator lobby on the sixth floor, both stunned. Directly before them were double doors, with the lobby walls covered in “action” shots of Grimme City’s top super heroines over the years, getting fucked. To the left of the doors was a full-sized side shot of a nineteen year old Ms Patriot bent over at the waist, with King Pimp fucking her up from behind. The bikini top of her first costume was on the floor below the sexy super heroine, while her thong bottoms were pooled around her red thigh-booted ankles. Her all important golden power belt was held high in King Pimp’s left hand while his right hand had a fistful of shiny black hair. A fat john was standing in front of her, his cock shoved down the super heroine’s throat.

  It so traumatized her, she couldn't wear that costume again, and changed to her current bustier and shorts costume. Or at least an earlier version of it.

  “Wow,” her red-headed john said, gawking and getting hornier.

  “That was the first time King Pimp captured me. In fact, that is the very moment I lost my virginity,” she whispered, her mind full of that intense moment so long ago, and yet felt like yesterday. It was a moment she never forgot, and dreamed about many times a week. “I escaped, but I understand he still has that costume and power belt on display somewhere within The Palace. His greatest battle trophy, no doubt.”

  To the rig
ht of the doors was another full-sized poster, but this was of a hogtied Purple Avenger eating out a helpless Patriot Girl’s pussy. A man is butt-fucking Purple Avenger at the same time, while another has his cock down Patriot Girl’s eager mouth. That photo was from just six months back. At the time, Ms Patriot was behind the cameraman taking the video that picture was taken from, getting lesbian fucked by Beverly Beavers and a hot redheaded whore, while King Pimp watched with wicked glee. Ms Patriot and Patriot Girl escaped just ten minutes later, but poor Purple Avenger was unmasked and was still working in the Super Heroine Lounge as far as Ms Patriot knew.

  To their right was the Wall of Shamed Super Heroines. On that walls were glamour headshots of each super heroine available for hire within the Super Heroine Lounge. The sexy super heroine’s right eyebrow rose when she spotted her own PR headshot at the top, in the place of honor.

  “Let’s go in, I’m super horny, babe.”

  “I bet you are,” Ms Patriot said, trying hard to not sneer. She’d agreed to do this, to be King Pimp’s whore. Therefore, honor demanded she be the best hooker she possibly could be. “I’m so hot for you, too, baby. Let’s go do this.”

  Above the double doors was a sign: Welcome to Super Heroine Hell.

  The doors were open, so they walked through hand-in-hand. The lounge beyond was larger than Ms Patriot expected. The color theme was red and black. First thing, she spotted the three stages with stripper poles. Purple Avenger was in full costume dancing on one, with a completely naked Shewolf sixty-nining Justice Star on another, and a topless Electro Girl pole dancing on another. At the bar to the side, and at numerous bistro tables, couches, and booths, she spotted captured sidekicks and lesser heroines chatting up johns, giving lap dances, or getting reamed out royally. To her surprise, she spotted some heroines from other cities she never knew King Pimp owned. Amazon Princess was giving an old man a lap dance, while Ms Puritan was leading a pair of black men toward a door in back. Then Night Avenger climbed up on stage with Purple Avenger and the two African American beauties started making out passionately.