Miss Americana vs the Boarman, Chapter 1 - Hot Pursuit
By Violator
Author’s Note - just to warn you: this is a long story, well into novel territory, totalling about 150,000 words as of current draft. If you’re just here for straight sex then this might not be the one for you, because while we’ll get there eventually in this story it is very far in. While there is a lot of erotic content throughout (IMO at least), for at least the first half its going to lean much more to public humiliation, voyeurism, and the like than straight sex.
Also just as an announcement: I have been working on some material that is outside the genre remit of this site. To eventually have a place to post it, I’ve opened an account over at Literotica, under the author name MarkVSharp (Violator got taken over there in, *checks notes*... 2004). If you look there now, what you will find is several of my older stories that I’ve revised in the process of converting them over to use new characters. Lit’s rules prohibit NC material using copyright characters, so this conversion is a requirement of getting them safely hosted over there at all, but I’ve taken it as an opportunity to revisit some of the older works as well as getting into a bit of a worldbuilding exercise. So check that out if it sounds of interest to you; and watch the space as there will be wholly new material there eventually. Meanwhile, as before I can also be reached at violatoremail@protonmail.com with any comments, questions or other feedback.
Revision note: this is the second version of this chapter. The first version had a number of typos, continuity errors and other mistakes, which a couple of readers kindly pointed out to me. These have been fixed in this version.
Hit END for a short summary of this chapter; page up slightly from there to get a synopsis of this storyline as a whole.
Ms. Americana revved the engine, her supercar screaming forward on all cylinders as she pushed past a lesser civilian sports-car. A fat wallowing delivery truck, noticing the fast-approaching supercar only at the last second, suddenly lurched to one side in panic - and almost directly into her path. With an expert twist of the wheel and tap of her boot upon the brake Americana jinked around it and screamed past - her passenger-side mirror leaving sparks along its side as she did so.
"Oh!" Flag Girl gasped. Painted to the passenger's seat, she clung tight to the door handle, her eyes wide. "Great Justice!" she gasped.
Americana paid her sidekick no mind. Her blue eyes, narrow behind her mask and above her smirking lips, remained glued to her target as it hove back into view.
"Run, run, run all you want, Rude Ruby," she cooed into her radio. "You can't escape my Justice!"
Ahead of her, in her stolen Delta City Police Interceptor, Rude Ruby smirked. A dusky skinned beauty, she wore a costume of pure red - red corset, red short-shorts, and knee-length red boots laced up with black laces. The hands she used to work the wheel were clad in fingerless gloves of red leather - with the open fingers revealing nails also painted bright and garish crimson. Her arms and legs were covered in tattoos done exclusively in black and red ink. Her long naturally sable hair had been dyed bright red, and she wore a matching garishly crimson lipstick. From her painted lips an unlit cigarette dangled.
Behind her, the two Delta City policemen she had taken as her hostages blinked their eyes wide and whimpered into their gags. Beside her curvy hip, upon the passenger seat of the cruiser, rested a sleek cooler with a blinking digital display on its top, and Wade Labs printed on its side.
"Be careful, Queen of Jugs-tice," the crimson-colored villainess purred. "Are you sure you want to catch me?" Then, reaching down, she suddenly downshifted, sent her car screeching around a lumbering semi and onto the shoulder, and then shot past it like a rocket.
Behind her, smirking, Americana followed effortlessly - while Flag Girl whimpered and tried to sink deeper into her plush seat.
As they shot and swerved around the highway, the lights of Delta City, glowing behind them, slowly faded into the fog. Another set of lights, tall and shining, began to grow before them. Flag Girl gasped, as she saw a large sign careen past at what seemed to be about mach 2.
"We just crossed the state line," she informed her mentor.
"Well aware," Americana hissed. Briefly she glanced down at her navigation screen, then back up to her windshield - where her target was swerving back and forth wildly, trying to prevent her from getting past and into a pitting position. Then the emergence of two old retirees pacing each other across the highway forced her to drop back and take evasive action - giving the bolder Ruby some breathing space once more.
Before them, the growing lights resolved into shining skyscrapers, blazing against the night - roughly equal in size and number but in a different configuration than her familiar Delta City. Another large sign screamed past - but, as Americana had just braked hard to swerve around a bus, it passed just slow enough to read it. 'Welcome to Broodhaven' it said. The edges of the sign appeared to have been charred by a strange chemical, at some point.
Flag Girl squirmed.
"We've crossed into his city limits," she said.
"It's not 'his' city," Americana growled, focused on her driving and her careening target.
"Is Delta City not 'your' city?" Flag Girl asked.
"That's different!" Americana snapped, shifting.
"Are... are we going to back off?" Flag Girl asked, nervously.
"Of course not!" Americana said. "What are you thinking?!"
Flag Girl was silent a moment, shivering in her star-spangled halter top and her sleek, red-and-white-striped panties.
"He won't like it," she said at last.
"Well that's just too bad for him," Americana purred.
A few seconds later the radio crackled. Rude Ruby's smirking face vanished off the communications screen - to be replaced by an image mostly of the night sky, with streaked clouds backlit by a full moon. A figure filled the screen, but only as a dark silhouette - so that the only features that could be made out was that he had very broad shoulders, from which a dark cape flapped, and had two curved projections pointing up from either side of his cowled head.
"Ms. Americana," a gravelly voice growled. "My sensors indicate that you are entering Broodhaven city limits."
"Your sensors are correct," Americana cooed. "Pity about your everything else..." Not taking her eyes off the road, she shifted and slammed down on the accelerator - roaring past her latest obstruction to try to regain ground on Rude Ruby.
"Turn back, woman" he growled. "Broodhaven has a proper hero; if you try to spread your feminine incompetence here you will just put yourself and others in danger."
"I don't think it's my feminine incompetence we should be discussing," Americana purred, "One of your pretty little messes just spilled over into my city, so now a real woman has to come and clean it up. Now, I'm afraid you're breaking up..."
Reaching out, she started to manipulate the radio.
"Don't be a fool you st-" the dark figure started to growl - but at that moment, as her gloved fingers twisted the knob, his voice dissolved into static and his image did as well.
Flag Girl swallowed.
"He won't like that either..." she said.
"Check under the back of my bikini to see where you can stick what he thinks," Ms. Americana purred, her hand returning to her wheel.
"The Broodhaven police won't like it either..." Flag Girl pointed out.
"Hot pursuit exemption," Ms. Americana cooed, slamming up a gear again.
"We... we don't actually have one with-" Flag Girl whined.
"Shush!" Americana said. Detaching a hand from the wheel, she waved it in her sidekick's face and then returned it. "Don't distract me!"
Whimpering, Flag Girl shivered - and then, nodding her glum agreement, sank back into her seat and tried not to look as the lights of Broodhaven grew larger and larger in the windscreen.
Using her superior engine Americana almost managed to get into position to force Ruby down - when the latter suddenly swerved to one side and shot down a twisting exit ramp. Growling, Americana managed to careen around a lurching and screaming panel van and followed - just barely clearing the crash barrier on the driver's side. Engines roaring the chase continued on city streets, blasting through lights and past stunned civilian automobiles, winding its way deep into the shattered post-industrial wasteland that lay at Broodhaven's rotten core.
At last, Rude Ruby managed to trick Ms. Americana. Feinting right at an intersection, she suddenly whipped around and shot out down the left instead. Americana, caught flat footed, did a wild S and skidded straight through. Fortunately, the district they were now in was almost devoid of people, or cars that weren't abandoned wrecks, so as her car fishtailed to one side and then settled to a rocking halt, it did so in the middle of an empty old cracked stretch of street.
"Heh," Rude Ruby said. "Sucker." But she had almost arrived at her destination. Screeching around into an alley in between a junkyard and an abandoned chemical plant, she roared down it and then pulled up at the chemical plant's long-disused loading dock. Throwing open the door, she seized up the blinking cooler beside her and leaped out. Storming up the steps of the loading dock, she stood upon it. Then she turned around. Withdrawing the cigarette from her lips, she smiled.
Half a block away, Ms. Americana hissed with frustration as she worked her controls. The car lurched around in a half turn, and then whipped backwards - pointing back the way it had come.
But fortunately, she still had a bright red dot blinking upon her navigation console. Rude Ruby had known enough to rip out the remote shut-down on the police prototype - but not the tracking device on the cooler.
"You can run all you want, Ruby," Americana cooed, as she got back into gear and got rolling again, "but you can't hide!"
Standing on the loading dock, looking down into the cruiser, Rude Ruby smirked.
Inside the two policemen she had taken hostage - to ensure she didn't just get popped on the highway - whimpered and blinked up at her from its back seat. Even from where she stood, Rude Ruby could tell they weren't looking at her face - their eyes instead boring in on the spectacular rounded form her muscular buns presented inside her bright red boy-shorts, and the sleek curvature of her trim hourglass waist inside her matching corset.
"Thanks for keeping me company, boys," she cooed. "Here let me give you something to remember me by."
Taking her cigarette, she flicked it out. Flying through the open driver's side door, it landed on the upholstery. Moments later, with a hiss, roiling red fumes began to expand out from it. A billowing waterfall poured out of the open driver's side door, looking almost exactly like Rude Ruby's long and flowing crimson hair - but it was not nearly enough to ventilate the entire car, and in moments it was entirely filled with bright scarlet vapor. The two cops whimpered in confusion, blinded by the red fog.
Smiling, Rude Ruby lifted her fingers. Her nails were painted in a bright shade of red, to match her hair, and costume, and lipstick. She held her fingers in front of her smirking lips for a second. Then she snapped them. Instantly, a bright spark flashed at the smoking cigarette - and moments later the entire car was engulfed in a massive explosion.
"Great Justice!" Americana gasped, as she heard a distant roar. In the distance, over the top of the junkyard, they could see red flames billowing into the sky.
"There!" Flag Girl said, as she saw the alleyway entrance approaching at speed on their right.
"Good eye," Americana said, twisting the wheel to steer through it - just barely making it.
Standing on the loading dock, her front lit up by flames, Rude Ruby watched. Beneath her, the two bound policemen thrashed and screamed inside the burning cruiser - but it was already too late, and the flames were consuming them. Chuckling, Rude Ruby shook her head.
"That's two filthy pigs that have gotten their just desserts," she purred - turning to put her sculpted backside to the flickering flames. "Plenty more still to go!" she said - and, cooler held perched against her rounded hip, began to strut like a sauntering model through an open door and into the darkened factory before her.
A few seconds later, with a rumble of its mighty engine, the Americana-mobile pulled up beside the burning cruiser. Americana and her sidekick leapt out and ran over - only to recoil backwards as they felt the heat of the flames.
"Oh, my God..." Flag GIrl whimpered - lifting a gloved hand to her mouth and blinking her young eyes in horror, as she saw the two charred corpses still strapped down in the gutted back seat. The flames were so hot, their police badges were starting to melt.
Hands on her hips, Americana shook her head and growled. "Just... just another couple murders Rude Ruby will have to answer for," she said.
Then, she turned and looked at the chemical plant. A large main building was surrounded by piping and storage tanks, in turn surrounded by a rusting barbed-wire-topped fence. The loading dock before her led directly into the main building - and though most of the dock entrances had been boarded up, one had a large gash torn in it allowing entry.
A sign, high above the dock, said 'Central Power & Chemicals.'
"Come on," Ms. Americana said. She pointed at the waiting entrance, remembering the last image from her navigation console. "We came all this way. Let's go get her."
"R-right on..." Flag Girl said - still sounding a little nervous.
Warily, backlit by the fading flames of the destroyed cruiser, Americana and Flag Girl entered the chemical plant. Once through the entrance their eyes adjusted to the gloom. Looking around, Flag Girl breathed deep. All around them, chemical piping twisted and turned, like the intestines of some great beast. Huge vats of chemicals lay here and there about the complex. Though everything was shut down, drips and clanks echoed through the old works. Here and there a few safety lights still shone down - which mostly served only to cast deep and stark shadows through the jungle of jumbled metallic vines.
"R-Rude Ruby could be anywhere in here," Flag Girl whispered.
"Technically true," Americana admitted. Reaching up to her earring, she adjusted a tiny dial. Moments later a tone started to sound in her ear. Turning her head first one way and then the other, it changed pitch subtly. Nodding, her mighty buxom body suddenly set out down one pathway through the maze of pipe. "Follow me," she said.
Gasping, Flag Girl watched her mentor's stunning star-spangled bottom strut away - and then not wanting to be left behind, did so.
Americana took a couple turns through the maze of old machinery and tanks, and smiled.
"She can run," she cooed softly to herself. "But she can't hide..."
"Who's running?" a brash voice suddenly called out, loudly.
With a gasp, Americana and Flag Girl spun around.
There, before them - in an alcove amongst the pipes and valves and vats of unknown sludge - Rude Ruby stood. She was directly underneath one of the strongest of the lights hanging from the ceiling high above - bathed in white light. Beneath her was a steel platform, below which was a dark pit filled with yet more tangled machinery and hissing vats. The blinking cooler she had stolen lay in front of her, and she had her hands on her hips, and a smile on her crimson lips.
"Hello, Ms. Americana," Rude Ruby purred. "Nice to finally meet you in person."
"Hello, Rude Ruby," Americana said. Lifting up a hand, with a decisive press of her finger to the side of her smirking face she turned off her tracker to keep it from distracting her. Then, lowering her hand, she strutted forward. She stopped directly in front of Ruby, several meters away, and formed a power stance. Rude Ruby's back was to a wall of machinery - trapping her. "Giving up so soon?" Americana asked.
Rude Ruby shook her head. "No," she said. "I just can't open this," she said. She pointed down at the cooler. "I need you to tell me how."
Americana shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't do that," she said.
"Can't, or won't?" Ruby asked.
"Won't," Americana specified, confidently.
Ruby smiled. "That’s why I let you follow me. I'm going to force you to!" she said, bouncing on her heels eagerly.
Hands on her buxom hips, Ms. Americana shook her head, ruefully. "That's where you went wrong," she said. "You've spent too long facing a mere man - and a particularly weak and foolish one at that. You think you can get away with the same tricks. But unfortunately for you, you're outmatched - because you're facing a real woman now!"
Rude Ruby laughed. "No, I'm not!" she said. She pointed down at Miss Americana’s body, she sneered. “Every superheroine is just a slave to the superheroes - whether she realizes it or not. You’re not a real woman, you’re just a toy for this world’s real masters - at least until we destroy them. And, after facing the likes of the Boarman, a misguided woman who just wants to simper beside him in a bikini is going to be easy mode!”
Miss Americana raised an eyebrow, and her face shivered at that last accusation in particular. But, rather than waste time arguing, she just shook her head. “Well… we will see soon enough, won’t we?” She made an inviting gesture, with her fingertips. “Let’s settle it like women, shall we?” she asked.
"Gladly!" Rude Ruby replied.
"Watch my back," Miss Americana told Flag Girl. Then, forming fists, her buxom and muscular hips rolling powerfully, she advanced on Rude Ruby.
Dropping into fighting stances, the two women met in a sudden clash. Flag Girl stood back, as instructed, watching and gasping. Her head spun behind her, briefly - and then whirled to once more watch the unfolding match.
Despite their earlier bravado, Rude Ruby and the Queen of Justice sparred warily for a few seconds. Each knew the other only by reputation. There were a couple swift darting exchanges, in which they blocked each other's blows and then rapidly fell back. Then, with a smirk, Ms. Americana suddenly advanced - moving straight towards the cooler lying on the ground. Growling, Rude Ruby was forced to dart in quickly to protect it. The following exchange happened so fast, even Flag Girl could barely follow. But it ended with Rude Ruby going flying backwards, letting out a loud yelp, and landing sprawled and spread-eagled on her back.
"Ooohhh..." the crimson-haired villainess whimpered. Slowly, picking her head up off the steel deck, she shook it as if dazed - and then with a gasp, stared up at Ms. Americana as if seeing her for the first time.
Standing with her thighs planted wide apart, Ms. Americana held the extended red-gloved fist she had used to knock down Ruby out and still - and slowly smirked.
"Had enough?" she cooed.
Lying flat on her back, Rude Ruby took a deep breath. Then, slowly, she smirked too.
"It is true," she admitted. "It turns out you're too much for me to defeat. Barely... but too much all the same."
Behind Americana, in an arc around the awed and watching Flag Girl, four colored ropes had suddenly descended from the ceiling. They flopped about silently - their tips an inch from the floor. One was blue, one green, one yellow, and one purple.
Slowly, Rude Ruby's smirk broadened. "One on one..." she softly specified.
Standing proudly over her, Americana suddenly took a deep breath. "What?" she said.
Beneath her, Ruby smirked - as silently, around the still-oblivious Flag Girl, four curvy figures rapidly descended from the ceiling.
"You didn't actually do your homework, did you?" she said.
With a clang, four more pairs of boots landed on the deck. Americana whirled - as did Flag Girl. But the teen sidekick was so close, and so utterly surrounded, it was already too late for her to resist.
"Oh... shit..." the Teen Wonder softly whispered - moments before she was seized and, as her hands were rapidly jerked behind her by one set of hands, a chemical-laced pad was slammed down just beneath her wide-blinking eyes by another.
Americana gasped in shock, to see her sidekick getting swarmed. But she didn't have time to do much about it, as one by one Rude Ruby's comrades stepped forward, eager to introduce her to their names and their fists.
One pale-skinned beauty came up first, running interference for her comrades as they disposed of her already-doomed sidekick. Her costume, like all of them, was identical to Rude Ruby's in cut and layout - but hers, also like each of the others, followed a distinct color pallet. In this case, the roots of the light-skinned beauty's hair revealed her to be a natural blonde - but her cornsilk tresses had been dyed a bright electric blue. Every other part of her matched - from her bright blue lipstick to her nails, to her bustier and boy-shorts.
"Hello," the blue-dyed blonde purred. "I'm Savage Sapphire."
She threw a punch - which Americana managed to avoid by darting backwards. But she gasped as she was suddenly seized from behind and, head whirling, found another enemy leering down at her over her shoulder.
"Hello," this next combatant purred. Her skin was dark ebony, and her body, from her long legs to her gorgeous face, was clad in bright yellow. Her hair was dyed platinum blonde. "I'm Ghoulish Goldie," she said.
Then, she tried to flip Americana up and bring her down on her knee. But Americana rolled out and managed to break free - only to gasp as another assailant appeared before her.
"Hello," an Asian beauty cooed. She was clad from head to toe in bright green, her lips and dark hair dyed to match. She had been the one to take Flag Girl from behind - and having already slapped the teen's wrists safely into a pair of cuffs, was now free to engage the greater threat. "I'm Jaded Jade," she purred, and then delivered a snapping kick up towards Americana's face.
With a loud yelp, Americana managed to evade only by lurching clumsily backward. She flipped end over end, and then rose back up - only to gasp sharply as she found yet another opponent already up and in her face.
"Hello," this last one purred. She had been the one to take Flag Girl from the front. But the whimpering teen, the pad fixed to her face, was already on her knees and blinking wide as the their drugs rapidly conquered her - leaving the woman who had defeated her free to take on her mentor as well. This one, like Savage Sapphire, was pale-skinned, and the roots of her hair showed her to be a natural redhead - but her hair and lips and nails were all dyed a bright and poisonous purple, to match her skimpy costume. In an added touch, as she smiled, she revealed her teeth had been filed down to sharpened points. "I'm Violent Violet," she purred, her shark-like mouth grinning.
Violent Violet threw a punch - and this one, catching Americana off-guard and out of tricks, finally connected.
"Urgh!" Americana whimpered, her eyes bulging out, as the purple fist slammed into her cheek and sent her head spinning. Knocked off her feet, the mighty heroine flew back, her buxom form whirling. But she was still a veteran super-heroine. Lurching about in mid-air, she managed to get her feet under her and land, if only barely. Then, rising shakily back up, she gasped - and slowly turned her head.
All around her, the multi-colored villainesses cackled and leered. While her multi-colored sisters were making their introductions, Rude Ruby had regained her feet as well. They stood around Americana in a five-pointed star formation, with Americana at the center. Behind them Flag Girl, already tamed and conquered by their gas, slumped back from her knees to lie flat upon her back - useless.
Slowly, panting softly, Ms. Americana turned in a circle - to find in each direction a different-colored beauty sneering at her, and cracking her knuckles eagerly. Finally, having turned a full circle, she came back around to face Rude Ruby again. The crimson-colored villainess smirked, hands upon her curvy boy-shorted hips. "Say hello," she said, nodding her head to first one and then another pair of her sisters in crime, "to the Dark Prizm."
Looking around, the Queen of Justice shook her woozy head in disbelief. “F-five on one?” she gasped. “Th-this isn’t fair!”
Shaking her head, Ghoulish Goldie smirked. “What’s fair got to do with anything?” she purred.
“Fairness is just fake bullshit the so-called ‘heroes’ sell, to keep you from going all out on them like you should,” Jaded Jade asserted.
“What the matter, Miss Americana,” Rude Ruby purred. “Not ‘real woman’ enough to take just a few more?”
Miss Americana took a deep breath. But, her pride would permit only permit one response.
“Ab-absolutely not!” she hissed back.
“Good,” Rude Ruby said. She nodded towards the surrounded superheroine. “Get her!”
“Sounds like a plan!” Savage Sapphire laughed.
“Fuckin’ A!” Violent Violet said, lapping her sharpened chops.
With that, they all surged in upon her.
With a gasp, Americana leaped into action. She whirled this way and that, fighting desperately - blocking and striking and dodging as best she possibly could.
It swiftly became apparent that Rude Ruby was the strongest of the five. Any of the other four, if pitted against Americana one-on-one, would have fallen even quicker. But it was not one on one. Americana could not face one for even half a second, before another pair were upon her from either side or behind. She gasped and groaned, as her buxom curves were slapped and stomped first one way and then the other. And unlike her, they had done their homework.
"Oh!" the mighty Queen of Justice gasped, as she felt a hand wrap around her belt from behind. "N-no!"
"If five on one is cheating..." Jaded Jade purred - and ripped off the heroine's belt. Americana cried out as, with an electric crackle around her curvy hips, her mighty powers were stolen. "Isn't this cheating too?" Jaded Jade cooed, holding up the belt and taunting her with it.
"Oh... you bi-" Americana started to say - but got cut off with a groan as she promptly got pummeled from all sides. Knocked silly, she stumbled first one way and then the other, as if drunk. Taking a step back, the villainesses watched her - and cackled.
"The boys must love these fun-bags," Ghoulish Goldie said, stepping forward - and reaching a hand out to cup the mighty heroine's giant tits. "Why don't we get to enjoy them too?" Coiling her fingers up in between Americana's enormous jugs, she took a firm grip on her bra.
Head clearing at the sudden threat, Americana's head darted down and gaped at her violated breasts in shock. "N-no... you wouldn't..." she started to say. But with a loud gleeful cackle, Ghoulish Goldie yanked savagely at the heroine's brassiere. It tore away with a loud 'RIIIP!", letting her big cans tumble out to jiggle, naked and unprotected, before the cackling women.
"Holy shit," Jaded Jade said, suddenly gaping at the heroine's exposed rack in disbelief. "They're real!"
"No way," Violent Violet said. "That’s impossible! There’s no way this cape-loving slut didn’t spring for a pair of implants, to please her real masters!"
"You ever seen implants move like that?" Jaded Jade asked, pointing in disbelief at the way Americana's enormous naked hooters swayed and jiggled before them.
Her lips twisting up in a snarl, their comments finally caused Ms. Americana's rage to bubble back up through the dazed disorientation filling her head. "I... I am… a superheroine… not a cape-loving slut, you... you fucking whores!" she said. And, with a mighty growl, she formed a fist and threw a punch at Jaded Jade's face.
Despite her twin giant distractions, Jade dodged backwards easily, out of the way of Miss Americana’s merely-mortal punch. "That is a distinction without a difference!" she chided, shaking her finger chastisingly at the furious heroine. "You need to accept that, before you can stop being a dumb super-bootlicker!"
"Let’s beat her until she does!" Savage Sapphire said, eagerly.
Leaping back in, they did so. Despite her fury, Americana was even more helpless than before. She whimpered in agony as a mighty thigh was driven up into her gut, yelped in shock as she got a booted foot slammed up into her ass, and gasped in pain as her enormous knockers got punched first one way and then the other like shapely speed-bags. Finally, with a moan, bruised and beaten, she collapsed to her knees.
"No more, no more!" she begged.
Reaching into the back of her shorts, Rude Ruby drew forth a pair of handcuffs that had lain nestled against her toned ass. "Cross your hands behind your back," she commanded.
Americana gasped. Despite the fact she was clearly outmatched - that she was on her knees and depowered - a look of truculent resistance appeared on her face. So Savage Sapphire walked over and, lifting her foot, held it over Flag Girl's face.
"Do it," she said. "Show us what you do for all the boys - or else we make this one less pretty for all the young superheroes out there."
"Oh... you bitches..." Ms. Americana hissed. But, with the threat to her sidekick, she had no choice. Her hands trembled - and then, reluctantly, crossed behind the small of her back, just above the dramatic whale's tail her patriotic panties made between her enormous buttocks. Whooping with glee, Rude Ruby dove down and, in a moment, as Americana shivered and gasped in horror, clapped the defeated superheroine into chains.
"Knock her out," Ghoulish Goldie said. "We don't want her getting mouthy while we get set up."
"Right," Jaded Jade said.
Americana moaned. But, bound, she could do nothing as the sweet-smelling pad that had tamed her sidekick was brought over and pressed into her own lips. Her blue eyes blinked forlornly, looking at the row of colorful boy-shorts wiggling back and forth in eager anticipation before her. But in moments her vision blurred, gradually turning the colorful shorts into a smeared rainbow - and then her consciousness failed her.
Ms. Americana came to a short time later - and moaned.
The Dark Prizm had been busy while she was unconscious. Clad only in her mask, boots, gloves, and panties, the mighty heroine was trussed up thoroughly. Her back was pressed to a large steel column. Her arms were wrapped in ropes and bound firmly behind her, and behind the column. Her ankles were tied as well. She was on a metal platform, near but not in the same spot where she had been ambushed. Before her, beneath the edge of the platform, a huge vat of bubbling chemicals waited. A metal hook, descending from a ceiling-mounted winch, dangled over the pit.
The Dark Prizm stood to one side. They had Flag Girl on her knees amongst them, also bound. The blonde sidekick was clad in even less than Ms. Americana - they had taken everything but her mask. Her body was completely naked, besides that - save for a ball gag between her lips.
"Hello, Ms. Americana," Rude Ruby cooed. "Good to see you are awake again!"
Leaning down, she picked up the cooler, carried it over, and put it down in front of Ms. Americana. She stood up and pointed at it.
"What's the code, bitch?"
"I don't know it," Ms. Americana lied.
Rude Ruby shook her head. "Don't play games with us," she said. "We go all out."
Reaching down, she picked up Flag Girl's belt from a pile of collected superheroine costume pieces they had gathered together on the floor. Reaching out, she dangled it over the side of the platform. Then she let it drop.
The belt fell down into the reeking chemicals in the giant vat under their feet. On impact, a loud hiss sounded, and coils of foul vapor began to rise up. The golden belt buckled and shook, and electricity crackled across its proud face, almost as if it was trying to resist - even as tendrils of foul corruption almost immediately began to creep across it. Then, seconds later, it broke up into pieces. Vanishing down into the sludge, it sunk into a roiling mass of bubbles and then was gone. Moments later one last large bubble rose up from where the mighty belt had vanished and burst with a loud 'Blurrp!' - like a fat man belching after wolfing down a bite of food.
"Oh..." Americana gasped. She squirmed, her mighty body shaking around her tiny panties. "Oh, Great Justice!"
"Tell us," Rude Ruby said.
Reaching down, she picked up Flag Girl's costume - her boots, gloves, bra, and panties. She held them over the edge and one by one, dropped them. They hit the slime and were consumed instantly - sending puffs of foul roiling vapor whirling back up past the assembled beauties on the platform above.
"What's the password?" Rude Ruby asked.
Americana took a deep breath, and licked her lips. "The password is... F1QR4ZQ."
"What was that again?" Rude Ruby asked.
Americana squirmed. "F1QR4GQ," she said.
Rude Ruby looked at her closely. "I assume the wrong password too many times activates a self-destruct?" she asked.
Americana swallowed. "Of course not," she said.
Rude Ruby turned. "Do the real one," she said.
Faces looking set and unamused, the Dark Prizm seized Flag Girl. The naked blonde moaned as she was yanked to her feet - then yelped louder as they dragged her out to the edge.
"Mmm!" she whimpered into her gag. "Nnn! NNNnn!" she squealed, her eyes going wide, as she realized what they were going to do to her.
But though she wiggled and moaned, she could not resist as they pulled the hook over, and attached it to the bundle of ropes tying her arms behind her. They tugged it and tested it, then Rude Ruby went over and grabbed a dangling control block. She hit the up button. Flag Girl whimpered in shock as she was hoisted up into the air - and then moaned in pure terror as she swung out and dangled back and forth over the seething, stinking pit.
"No!" Americana moaned. "You... you can't do this!"
"What's the password?" Rude Ruby asked.
"You wouldn't... you couldn't..." Americana whimpered, squirming.
Rude Ruby punched a button. Flag Girl, squirming and blinking her eyes downward in terror, began to slowly descend. Letting go of the controls, Rude Ruby squatted down beside the cooler. "F1QR4 something or other, was it?" she asked, her fingers reaching out towards the control panel.
"Oh... fuck... it's... it's WADE1! W-A-D-E-1! Number one, not word!" Americana moaned, desperately.
"Excellent!" Rude Ruby purred, a huge grin spreading across her lips.
She punched in the code. A little red light blinked and then turned off. With a hiss, the top of the case cracked and began to split open - a billow of cryogenic fog spreading out as it did so.
"Ooh!" the other Dark Prizm members said. Rushing forward, they peered over Rude Ruby's shoulder down into the opening pod.
"Is it alive? Is it still viable?" Ghoulish Goldie asked.
Licking her lips, Rude Ruby peered in - and grinned. "Oh, yeah! It sure is!" she said.
"Yes!" Jaded Jade laughed.
"You... you got what you wanted," Americana moaned. "Now hurry up, and turn off the hoist, won't you?!"
Flag Girl, her blue eyes wide with terror, was just sinking down past the edge of the platform - the tips of her bare toes only a few meters over the deadly pool waiting below.
Looking up, Rude Ruby grinned. "Who said anything about that?" she said. She turned her head and looked at her sisters. "Did we agree to that?" she asked.
Still peering eagerly into the open pod, Jaded Jade shook her head. "Nah," she said.
"Oh... oh my GODDESSS!" Ms. Americana moaned, her eyes going wide with horror.
Suddenly, the lights went out.
"Shit!" one of the Dark Prizm gasped.
"What the - OOHHH!" One of their voices rose into a shriek, as if struck.
Trapped and helpless, bound to the steel column behind her, Americana whimpered and squirmed in the sudden darkness - as all around her the gasping heroine heard the whoosh of fast motion through air, the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh, and gurgling yelps and groans. A series of heavy thumps sounded from the ground all around her.
Gasping in the darkness, having suddenly been driven down onto her rounded ass in the dark, Rude Ruby jerked a hand down into her cleavage, and came back up with a cigarette. Snapping her nail across the tip she activated it, and tossed it out blind into the dark. Moments later, it burst into brilliant light.
Suddenly lit by a single point of light amidst the darkness, the Dark Prizm gasped. They lay in a ring, flat on their backs or their butts, their long legs spread. Then turning their heads upwards, they gasped. A dark, broad-shouldered figure loomed over them - the two faint glimmers of his night-vision lenses glowing at the center of his cowled helmet.
"Fuck!" Violent Violet gasped.
"The Boarman!" Savage Sapphire moaned - her mighty thighs suddenly leaping up to squeeze tight together, to either side of her pussy.
Acting on instinct, the five villainesses tried to surge to their feet and fight. But the Boarman had the advantage of surprise and initiative. His massive rippling surged first one way and then the other, looking like a great horned demon in the flickering light, and effortlessly slammed each back down in turn.
"G-get away!" Rude Ruby cried out - after her own attempt to fight had resulted in her getting hurled back down face-first into the steel deck. "Flee, and regroup!"
From her knees, she managed to bring her arm around the Boarman's booted ankle and yank him down - he landed with a grunt and rolled away. Rather than trying to take advantage of this - she had little idea where he actually had gone amidst the gloom - Rude Ruby instead darted forward on her hands and knees and seized up the open cooler. Lurching to her feet, she started to stumble away - holding her stolen loot tight against her chest.
A dark shadow lunging back out of the darkness, the Boarman suddenly reappeared, streaking like a diving gargoyle down to intercept her. But with a cry, Savage Sapphire leaped to her feet and blocked him. For her trouble, she was sent wailing backwards, his foot slamming into her belly - but she bought Rude Ruby just enough time to lurch down a side passage and vanish.
At another corner of the platform, Jaded Jade got up to her feet - still holding her belly after his last blow. But rather than try to move over and attack the distant Boarman, who currently stood looming over Savage Sapphire, she instead whirled around the other way.
"I... I hope you enjoy that blonde slut's body... once it's melted to sludge like her dumb brain!" she snapped. Darting her hand out in a mighty chop, she struck the controls for the hoist from which Flag Girl was dangling - smashing it to pieces. Then, she too turned and sprinted away into the darkness - laughing as she went.
With yelps the other three curvy villainesses lurched to their fleet - and also fled away into the darkness, their svelte bottoms jiggling pneumatically as they vanished into the gloom. The Boarman directed a last few kicks into their curvy backsides - making them yelp and jiggle away faster. But then, rather than pursue - having given them a good psychological nudge towards not trying to double back around on him - he strode back over and picked up the shattered hoist control.
Americana, still recovering from the disorientation of the darkness and the sudden chaos, blinked her eyes at the distant dark shape in confusion. Through the darkness, she heard a deep voice utter a foul oath as he studied the destroyed circuitry. Then, he lifted his hand up to his coil.
"Royal Seer," she heard him growl. "I need light."
"Roger, sir," a faint voice echoed back. Moments later, with a faint 'thunk' of some distant industrial breaker shunting back into position, the factory lights suddenly came back on, stabbing into Americana's barely-adjusted eyes.
In the new brightness, the Boarman lifted the smashed controls closer to his face. In the distance, Americana could just see a couple of round brightly-colored bottoms diving down large pipes which, based on what she could divine from the tangled mess of conduits snaking around the factory, led straight down to the sewers. In an instant they were gone. Uttering another dark growling oath, the Boarman released the shattered control box to dangle beside him. Then he turned, and looked at Ms. Americana.
Americana gasped. Bound to the wall, in little but boots and mask and panties, she stared back - squirming.
It was her first time seeing him in person in years. He was a tall and dark figure, half a head taller even than her, with massive shoulders. His square-jawed face was clad in a dark cowl, from which two sharp points - the Boar's Tusks - extended upwards. A long cape hung from his wide shoulders. Upon his muscular chest he had a Boar's Tusk logo, similar to his cowl, emblazoned in silver on his chest. Below that, he had a utility belt wrapped around his narrow waist.
Her eyes very briefly darted lower than that. But, seeing what she always had in the blurry edge of her vision, she darted her gaze hastily back up to his face. Her blue eyes arrived back on his face to see his cowled head shaking slowly back and forth, as he gazed on her in disgust.
"Hello, Ms. Americana," he said. "I see you are demonstrating exactly what uppity women like you are capable of - as usual."
Ms. Americana gasped. Opening her lips, she started to call him a sexist creep. But before she could, he had suddenly turned - and dove over the side.
"Oh!" she gasped. Craning her head, she watched him in disbelief.
Swooping down, over the roiling deadly chemicals, Boarman alighted upon Flag Girl's hoist, grabbing hold of the steel hook from which she dangled. He grunted in pain, as his muscles, which were thick like coils of steel cables, struggled with the strain - but his grip held.
Shivering, naked Flag Girl blinked up in awe as she found the Boarman’s cowled square-jawed face suddenly looming over her. His body pressed tight against her, his cape wrapping around her. She squirmed back up against him - her slender bare feet now less than a meter over the surface of the lethal fluid below.
Keeping one hand wrapped around the cable, the Boarman worked quickly. Reaching down to his utility belt, he produced a tiny plasma torch, with which he effortlessly cut her bonds - but left the loop that ran under her shoulders and up to the hook.
"Grab hold of me," he told her.
Gasping, her limbs shaking in shock, Flag Girl did so. Her pretty teen face blinked up into his looming cowled head in awe as, hands clutched tight around his broad back, she pressed her naked body tight against his muscular flesh.
"Do you have a good grip?" he asked her. Her little toes were now just a few centimeters over the deadly fluid.
Flag Girl squeezed herself tight against his flesh, and nodded.
"Don't let go," he growled. Using her grip to keep himself momentarily stabilized, he lifted one heavy arm and pointed it up at the ceiling. A steel cable shot from his wrist, tipped by a Boar's Tusk grapple - which slammed up around a steel girder and bit tight. With his free hand he cut the last cord holding her to the hook. Then, putting a hand on her back he crushed her hard against his chest - and activated the retract on his cable.
WIth a loud 'VWIP!' the Boarman and his gasping teen cargo shot up and out of the pit. As they shot up and away from the lethal chemicals, Flag Girl's thighs spread wide, the better to wrap tight around his body. From between her spread legs a couple of shining droplets, which she had produced in record time as soon as she saw who had come to save her, were left arcing up through the air and then fell back into the slime. The tiny droplets promptly vanished, one by one, each with a faint 'hiss' and a tiny puff of smoke.
Disengaging his hook at the perfect moment, the Boarman and Flag Girl fell back down and landed on the platform, right in front of Ms. Americana. Clinging tight to the Boarman, Flag Girl gasped up into his face in awe. Looking down into her face, the Boarman smiled tightly - only his lips visible beneath the bottom of his cowl.
"Excuse me, miss," he said. Reaching up, he disengaged the ball-gag, and then tugged it out of her lips.
"Oh..." Flag Girl sighed softly. Panting softly, she stepped back - but still kept both hands on his massive chest. She looked him up and down, gasping in awe. Her eyes went wide, when she looked down. A couple of the spiked tips at the bottom of his cape were singed off, the ragged edges still smoking as the last bit of chemical neutralized itself. This was not what made her eyes go widest, though. Turning her head up, she looked back into his face.
"Oh... thank you, Boarman... you are my hero!" Flag Girl said.
Stepping close, the naked teen lifted her lips and tried to press a thank-you kiss to Boarman's lips. But the hero turned his head at the last second, evading her, and the blushing blonde found herself just pressing a couple kisses to his square jaw. He pushed her gently aside.
"Oh..." Flag Girl said. Standing beside him and squirming, she lifted a hand to her head. As the adrenaline faded the color started to drain off her face. She wavered, and then slowly sank down to her knees beside him.
Looking down at her, Boarman chuckled. "That's a good girl," he said. Reaching out, he patted her on her lovely masked head, as her pretty eyes blinked wide, looking a little lost. "You've been through a lot," he said. "Why don't you take a little rest."
"Oh... okay..." she said.
Slowly, she sank even further down, until she was crouched down on all fours by his feet. Looking up, gasping, she saw another chance to show her gratitude. Stretching her lovely head forward, her opulent lips open and gasping softly, Ms. Americana's sidekick and surrogate daughter tried, desperately, once more, to give the Boarman a kiss - this time on the toe of his boot. But once more, with a casual step, he evaded her. Her lips sank down onto where they thought his boot would be, and pursed - into open air.
On her knees, Flag Girl let out a tiny moan. Then, rolling over onto her side, with a soft gasp, she passed out. Her lips hung open, parted slightly - quivering in disappointment just a little ways behind the big dark Boar-themed boot they had tried and failed to kiss.
"Oh... Great Justice..." Ms. Americana whispered. Tearing her eyes off her unconscious naked teen sidekick, she looked up at the Boarman - only for her shock to intensify even further as she realized he wasn’t even looking at her, even as she squirmed before him, bound, in her panties and very little else. Instead of paying her the slightest glance, the Boarman had lifted his hand to his head, and looking up he once more spoke into the ether.
"Royal White, Royal Star," he said, "where are the Dark Prizm?"
There was a crackle of radio static. "We don't know," said one voice.
"They lost us," another voice said.
The Boarman swore.
"Come here," he said.
"Roger," the voices crackled.
Several seconds later two shapes appeared among the shadows high up where a broken window made a convenient aerial entrance to the factory. Floating through, they descended through the cavernous pipe-lined space and resolved into the shape of two handsome and athletic young men. Each wore a black bodysuit that covered almost every inch of his body, and a domino mask that exposed his hair. The sole exception to their all-black attire was upon their chests, whereupon each wore a different colored logo. One of the two, his hair platinum blond, had a logo on his chest which looked vaguely like a white ‘X’ on his chest. The other man, whose head was brown, had a starburst of bright magenta on his chest.
The Royal Corps were Boarman's sidekicks. He usually had several at a time, and was notorious for having them vanish and get replaced the way most people treated a cheap pair of sunglasses. On the rare occasion that one survived to adulthood without being physically or psychologically maimed, without fail, they left Broodhaven and went off to some other city to establish themselves as heroes in their own right. When doing so they never kept their old names and logos, instead establishing a new identity.
Curiously, while the Boarman himself relied entirely on his technology and his prowess, many of his sidekicks had powers - often very strong powers, though when still in the sidekick phase their skills at using them were often quite limited. Ms. Americana assumed that the Boarman, with his near total dominance of the super-crime situation in Broodhaven, naturally took any newly emerged talents under his wing.
Unlike the Boarman, who appeared to have no trouble keeping his eyes off Ms. Americana's bound and squirming assets, the two Royals - who each looked to be about eighteen - promptly glanced over and openly began smirking and leering at her quite decorative predicament. The dark haired one also repeatedly glanced down to where naked Flag Girl lay near his feet, and openly admired her nubile flesh - making Ms. Americana seethe and shiver in fury at his insolent designs upon her daughter.
"Royal White," Boarman said, directing his attention to the blond male sidekick, "Begin sweeping the Prizms’ usual contact points. You know - college activist groups, poetry slams, ladies’ gym locker rooms, those sorts of places - anywhere they're likely to touch base with their former networks. We need to know what the Dark Prizm are up to this time, and fast."
"Ew," Royal White said. He made a face. "Can I just do the last one?"
"No. In fact, just do the first two. I'll have Royal Glider check the gyms, instead."
"Aww..." Royal White whined.
"As for you, Royal Star," Boarman said, turning to the dark-haired sidekick. "I want you to get in touch with you-know-who." He looked down at the magenta star on his chest, then back up at the young man's face. "Her corps is just the sort the Prizm might try to bring in."
Royal Star took a deep breath. "Look, sir," he said. "She really doesn't like me contacting her. I think she would be much more responsive if you-"
"I don't have time," Boarman said, flatly. "She's easy, but very thirsty."
"D-don't tell me that!" Royal Star said, his face suddenly looking flushed.
Boarman shook his head. "If you can't tell that just by looking," he said, "you really don't have the head to-"
Americana had finally had enough.
"HEY!" she shouted.
The two sidekicks looked over at her, the Boarman did not. Their eyes then promptly dropped down to the two giant jugs she had wobbling about in the nude upon her chest and stared. Americana grit her teeth, squirmed her thong-clad ass uselessly against the pole, and did her best to ignore that.
"Hey!" she said again. "I'm right here. I’m the Queen of God-Damned Justice! Aren’t you going to include me in your operational planning?!"
The Boarman turned his head to look at her. "Ms. Americana," he said, "I am aware of your many talents as a crimefighter. When I have a need of them, I will most certainly call upon you. But until there is a low-level thug who needs to be distracted by a strip-tease, or whatever, please do what you do best - and just shut up and look pretty."
Miss Americana gasped at this - momentarily so stunned that he would dare to speak such words that she did indeed obey, and shut her full lips. But those opulent red petals trembled against one another, as she squirmed fleshily - and it was obvious to all that her silence would only last until she had managed to come up with a witty enough comeback to overcome her currently humiliating circumstances.
Not stopping to enjoy said view, the Boarman turned back to his sidekicks. "I will clearly need to deal with this impertinent superheroine further," he told them. "No more arguments, we don’t have time for them. Go, now. Do as you have been told."
"Yes, sir," they said.
Glancing down, Royal Star once more looked at Flag Girl and leered. "What about her?" he asked.
"I'll deal with her too," he said.
Royal Star sighed, and shook his head. "Right. Of course you will," he said. Then, the two rose up. They had no need of grappling hooks - although from the looks on their faces, the move still required quite a bit of concentration. Royal Star had a faint magenta glow around him as he rose, the same color as the stylized triangle on his chest. Then they soared away.
"That... was a very insulting thing to say!" Americana snapped, finding her voice, after his sidekicks had departed.
He shrugged. "It did the job," he said. Turning he walked over to her and stood before her.
Ms. Americana squirmed, and then snarled. The tips of her huge breasts shook back and forth before his chest. "What are you waiting for?" she asked. "Aren't you going to cut me loose?"
"No," he said.
At this, her jaw dropped in shock. "NO?!" she gasped. “Wh-what do you mean NO?!! R-release me at once, I demand it!” She stomped her foot - which was about all she could do, while topless before him with her arms bound behind the pole.
But he shook his head. “No, not yet. I must have words with you first, and I am not foolish enough to release you before that happens. Ms. Americana - in case it was not obvious from my timely arrival, I was aware of the Dark Prizm's hideout and was ready to round them up from the start. Had you not butted your big round ass into my affairs - had you not pursued Rude Ruby into Broodhaven, as I told you not to do - she would not have had the code. Your sidekick would not have been endangered. And instead of having to stop and save the two of you, I could have pursued the Dark Prizm and would right now have them all in custody where they belong."
"Oh..." Ms. Americana said. She had not realized any of this. She bit her lip, and for the first time, despite herself, looked slightly ashamed. But only slightly - it was still her after all.
"I told you again and again, during those interviews, that superheroines like you are suited to certain tasks. If you wish to cook, or clean, or dance to help me relax after a hard day of fighting crime, those are all well within your talents. But instead your pride and stupidity leads you to try, over and over again, to shove yourself into roles you have no business attempting - fighting, leading, and of course talking - instead of the ones you are actually suited for."
At this, Americana's jaw once more dropped in disbelief. "You... you sexist pig!" she snapped.
"Boar," he corrected. He shrugged. "Am I wrong? Has your insistence on coming in and getting involved yourself - in the usual stupid and incompetent way of your kind - made things better in any way?"
Face twisting with fury, Ms. Americana nevertheless looked down and to one side, unable to meet his gaze.
"That's... that's just coincidence," she hissed. She squirmed, rubbing her rotund thong-framing buns up against the steel to which she was bound. "It doesn't mean anything."
"I see," the Boarman said. "Well, I can't say I shouldn't have known that this is what I would get for my trouble. I tried words but for an irrational heroine like you they of course will not work - so I'm afraid we will have to try other tactics."
"What are you talking about, you big pig?" Americana snapped, her head snapping back around to glare at him. "When are you going to release me, you creep?" she asked.
"I told you not to enter Broodhaven, and you did anyways. As a result, your natural superheroine stupidity has made things much worse," he said. "So... I am not going to release you."
"What?" she gasped. She struggled wildly against her bonds, but all this accomplished was to set her big breasts to sloshing wildly once more, directly in front of his giant dark pecs, and her panties to wiggle back and forth before his briefs. "H-how can you? It's... it's your duty you pervert!"
"Incorrect," he said. "For one, I have the Dark Prizm to pursue, and I can do so better without you just getting that lovely big butt captured again."
Ms. Americana gasped in fury at this statement, but he continued before she could interrupt.
"But second," he said, "it is actually my duty NOT to release you - but instead to leave you to be properly interrogated by the Broodhaven Police. And that is what I am going to do."
Americana's jaw dropped. "You wouldn't!" she said. Her thighs squeezed tight together, to either side of her patriotic-panty-clad crotch. The Broodhaven PD were notorious pigs, in every sense of the word.
Just then, as if on cue, the sound of sirens began to appear in the distance. Americana gasped, her eyes turning towards them and her lips opening up in horror.
"I must and I will," he replied. "Furthermore," he said, stepping back, he stood beside Flag Girl. The blonde teen, having recovered a bit, was starting to stir, blinking her pretty eyes and mewling. "I am taking this one with me," he said, gesturing down at Flag Girl.
Americana shook her head, in horror. "You can't do that!" she said.
"Again, I must," he said.
Confused at the sound of voices her little brain was not yet coherent enough to understand, Flag Girl lifted her pretty head. Looking down, the Boarman smiled and held out a hand, motioning her to rise. Gasping, she took it gratefully, and let him pull her up to him. The moment she was upright, without any invitation or prompting, she stepped close and cuddled tight against his mighty flesh - going so far as to lay her blonde head upon his chest.
Patting the blonde teen's head, the Boarman smiled, and looked into Ms. Americana's horrified face.
"She was a helpless waif, brought along by your pride and folly as an errantly willful woman," he told Ms. Americana - as Flag Girl’s supple, naked teen body pressed tight against him. "Therefore, she does not deserve to share your punishment. Also, she has been through much already - again, due to your bad mothership, taking her into danger instead of keeping her safely at home and learning the skills she actually needs. So I have no choice - I must take her and help her debrief and conceptualize her situation - since you will be in no position to do so."
"S-she's MY sidekick!" Americana said. "And my adopted d-daughter!" she added, forgetting herself. "You can't just take her!"
"It's her choice," the Boarman said.
Americana shook her head, furious. "No, it isn't! She's not a legal adult!"
"Not in Delta City," the Boarman admitted. "But in this state she is of age. By exactly three months, if my intelligence is correct."
Americana stared. Her mouth suddenly went dry.
Looking down, the Boarman patted curvy Flag Girl like he would a sweet pet. "What do you say?" he asked her. "Do you want to come to my secure and comfortable base? Or do you want to go keep your mentor company in a Broodhaven PD holding cell?"
Flag Girl lifted her head up off his giant pec and stared up into his looming square-jawed face.
"You're... you're fucking joking, right?" she asked. Going up on tiptoe, she pressed a kiss to the Boarman's cheek - and this time, since he was busy looking Ms. Americana in the eye, he let her deliver it for as long as she liked. Which was a while. She finally detached her plush lips with a soft audible 'smack' and sank back down from tiptoe, her sleek naked body pressed tight and rubbing eagerly against him. "Take me with you, Boarman," she said. She pressed another kiss to him, this time to his neck, and then looked up at him, her eyes shining as if looking upon her God. “Please!” she added, desperately.
Americana gaped at her traitorous sidekick in horror, but though her lips hung open she was for a moment lost for words. Meanwhile, the Boarman, for once, got a slightly abashed look upon his square-jawed face.
"Ah... I'm actually going to be a bit busy," he admitted. He put a hand on his ear. "I’m going to have to have someone else handle you for me. Royal Ivy, if you please," he said.
Suddenly, from behind a containment tank, where she had been apparently waiting with all due demure patience, a sleek young lady appeared and walked over. She had flaming red hair spilling down her back. Like her male counterparts, she was clad in a skintight black bodysuit - save for a forest-green triangle, pointed downwards, upon her chest.
Strangely, for a man of his bigoted beliefs, the Boarman had nearly as many young women in his Royal Corps as young men - often more, since the ladies had a tendency to die horribly slightly less often. But only slightly. But true to his archaic approach to crimefighting, while trained to defend themselves, they were otherwise devoted almost entirely to supporting roles. Important roles - they gathered evidence at his crime scenes, interviewed well-contained suspects, and reportedly staffed his dispatch and central control center. But supporting roles, nonetheless.
Unlike their male counterparts, they also rarely went on to become independent super-heroines. Instead the Boarman had a tendency - a horrible tendency from Americana's perspective - to 'give them away' to solve his problems. Four had ended up marrying other major heroes with whom he had once had conflict; and on not just one but two separate occasions the Boarman had forestalled potential alien invasions of his fair city by arranging for one of his lovely female Royals to end up wedded to the aliens' prince.
"Take Flag Girl here to the Boarmobile," he instructed Royal Ivy once she had arrived beside him. "Unless I am mistaken, after her initial debriefing she will need special delivery to a particular appointment. Is this correct, dear?"
Flag Girl gasped softly, her eyes widening. "Oh! I... I thought I was going to have to reschedule that..." she whispered.
Watching, Miss Americana was too stunned and flummoxed to even try and figure out what he was intimating.
"I would not have you miss it for the world,” the Boarman assured her. Then he turned back to Ivy. “She will fill you in on the details in the car," the Boarman said. "Now, go, both of you, with all due haste."
"Yes, sir," Royal Ivy said, bowing demurely. She extended her hand. Reluctantly, Flag Girl took it. She allowed herself to be led away - looking back repeatedly over her shoulder to gaze at the Boarman with longing eyes.
Turning, Boarman once more came to stand in front of Americana. Seething in her bonds, she glared at him in fury. But though her full red lips quivered with passion, she said nothing.
"There is one more thing I do need from you, Ms. Americana," he said.
"Oh?" she said. LIfting her chin, she smirked. "So you admit you do need my superior brain after all?" she cooed.
"No, I assume it was a man who did the actual thinking, I just need you to repeat it for me," he said. He stepped a little closer. "What I need you to tell me, Miss Americana… is exactly what was in the case they stole from you," he asked.
Ms. Americana grit her teeth. Her first instinct was to tell him to call Dr. Whirter, from whose lab it had been stolen. But given recent comments, she was suddenly absolutely unwilling to do so.
"Why should I tell you?" she asked, hotly. "After what you just pulled, taking my very sidekick away from me?!"
"Because in giving up the code you have just allowed it to be released into my city, in the hands of five vicious vixens," he reminded her. He stood so close now his cowled face loomed over her, while her gorgeous head shivered, glaring up at him. "So it is the least you could do to tell me what it is I am going to be dealing with, thanks to your heroinely incompetence," he added softly.
Ms. Americana's lip trembled. He was so close, the tips of her immense breasts almost brushed the surface of his gigantic pecs, as she squirmed. Then, she span her head to one side, looking away from him. "I obviously don't know a thing!" she snapped. Turning her head back, she glared up at him, her blue eyes flashing. “Isn’t that what you believe about me, anyways?!” she hissed.
He sighed, and rolled his eyes. "I should have known you would act like that..." he said. Turning, he walked to one side of her. "I appealed to your rationality. That was my mistake - being a superheroine, you obviously have none. So I will appeal to something better suited to your kind."
He bent down, beside her. Following him with her gaze, Americana gasped softly. There, right beside her on the ground, was a small pile of her belongings. The Dark Prizm had presumably gathered it there - to taunt her with, or to threaten with destruction, or for some other purpose entirely - and then forgotten it in their desperate bid to escape. On the bottom lay her belt. Atop that, lay her bra. Bending down, Boarman picked up the latter and then, walking back up to Ms. Americana, held it up in front of her. Squirming in her bonds, Americana stared at the huge empty cups of her trademark brassiere, hanging just in front of the giant jigging naked boobies they had once covered - and gasped in shock.
"I will appeal to your vanity," he said. "A far better target for a superheroine. So here is the deal, Ms. Americana. Tell me what was in that case, and you get your bra back. Refuse... and it ends up on the wall of my trophy room."
Her lip quivering, Ms. Americana stared at the offered bra in shock. "That's mine!" she gasped. "You cannot take it!"
"Technically it is evidence," he said. "You are here as an illegal vigilante, and were involved in a criminal altercation," he reminded her. "So given the choice, I absolutely should keep it in a safe place... and I do believe my trophy vault qualifies."
"Oh..." she said. She licked her lips, trying to decide which wound to her pride to take - to give in and do as he wanted, or to enter Broodhaven police custody wearing little but her panties. Her thighs squirmed tight together, at the latter thought, as the approaching sirens grew louder and louder.
Ms. Americana looked at her bra, and her face twisted - as flashing red and blue lights started to sweep through the distant doors across the ceiling high above. Then she looked back up into his face.
"Keep it!" she hissed. She tossed her hair, and rolled her eyes. "I already told you - as a silly superheroine, I obviously know nothing!"
He sighed. "Of course," he said.
Reaching down, he attached her bra to his utility belt. It slipped onto a little locking hook - one of several arrayed around his belt - that almost looked as if it was designed for exactly that purpose. In moments her huge bra hung down, beside his dark briefs. Despite herself Ms. Americana found herself gaping downward, staring at her hero-captured bra in dismay - and let out a little moan of horror.
Outside, there was a screech of tires as the police pulled up. The Boarman lifted one arm and pointed it at the ceiling.
"Good night, Ms. Americana," he said to her. "If you know what is good for you, once the police finally release you, you will turn tail and get that big butt you show off so well out of Broodhaven. Take it back to Delta City, where they tolerate incompetent bimbos like you running around pretending to be real crime-fighters. In case it was not already clear, Broodhaven has no need of uppity useless heroines like you."
With that, his cable zipped up into the sky. Moments later he followed. He vanished into the rafters - moments before a flood of Broodhaven police burst into the abandoned factory.
Left shivering in her bonds, Ms. Americana stared at where he had been.
"Yeah? Well... well same to you!" she hissed, by way of a belated comeback. Then she squirmed violently, and bowed her head - a deep blush upon her cheeks.
Our story continues next time in Chapter 2… with Miss Americana in Police Custody!
SYNOPSIS (ENTIRE SERIES): Miss Americana faces off against the Boarman, her hated male-chauvinist rival. His city, Broodhaven, is both a neighbor to Delta City and its mirror image: a place where a shadowy brooding crusader - assisted by his sidekicks - fights a never-ending battle to subdue a seemingly endless series of beautiful and wicked villainesses. Over the course of a single highly eventful night Miss Americana will have to deal with a hostile police force, a notorious women’s prison, a gang of radical terrorists, and the Broodhaven city bus system in her quest to prove once and for all that she is equal or superior to any man - including and especially… the Boarman!
SUMMARY (THIS CHAPTER): Miss Americana engages in a high-speed pursuit of Rude Ruby, a villainess who has stolen a cooler of as-yet unknown contents, with her sidekick riding shotgun. The chase crosses state lines and takes them into the nearby city of Broodhaven. En route she is contacted by the Boarman, Brookhaven’s resident hero, but ignores his instructions to cease her pursuit. Rude Ruby flees into a chemical plant and Americana and Flag Girl follow and confront her, only to be ambushed by her four allies: Jaded Jade, Violent Violet, Ghoulish Goldie, and Savage Sapphire; collectively known as the Dark Prizm. Taking the two heroines prisoner, the Prizm threaten Flag Girl’s life in order to force Miss Americana to reveal the code to the cooler; they are then attacked by the mighty Boarman. Taken by surprise the Dark Prizm flee, but the Boarman is forced to stop and save Flag Girl from certain doom, allowing them to escape. Afterwards the Boarman gives directions to the Royal Corps - his legion of sidekicks - to pursue the Prizm, before giving any attention to a tied-up and topless Miss Americana. To Miss Americana’s indignation he informs her that, as she is an illegal vigilante in his city, he will be leaving her to be interrogated by the police. He then offers Flag Girl the choice of staying with her mistress or coming with him, and the nude sidekick instantly abandons her mistress and begs to go with the Boarman instead. Finally, he offers to return Miss Americana’s bra - which got torn off by the Prizm - in exchange for vital information about the contents of the stolen cooler. But, incensed by his insulting language and the betrayal of her sidekick, she refuses - so, leaving her topless, he vanishes just as the Broodhaven police burst in.
Note that the above summary is of this chapter; for a brief blurb about this entire series, scroll up a just a little ways.