WARNING: This story contains graphic violence, nudity, rape and n/c sexual scenes. It is most definitely intended for, and should only be read by mature adults, OVER the age of twenty-one.
Love of Country
By
GW
(gwalb@nycap.rr.com or  gwalb@yahoo.com)
(GW Page at the Valkyrie)

The day after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Sally Mason patriotically quit her job, as the strong-woman of "The Greatest Show On Earth" to seek employment in the suddenly, rapidly burgeoning war industry. Finding a job in heavy construction, Sally's huge muscles replaced two men entering the armed services. Her ardor and competence were soon rewarded by promotion to swing-shift supervisor, although she continued to work alongside her subordinates, still physically performing the work of two. 

Even this arduous schedule couldn't satisfy the patriotic, young American's desire to serve her country. In her strategically important job, she was all too aware of the damage saboteurs and hijackers were doing to the war effort. In her scant leisure hours, Sally began to prowl the docks and war factories searching out such unpatriotic vermin. Wearing her colorful work clothes in lieu of a costume, with her mighty muscles, she apprehended and subdued many a malefactor over the next several years. 

As the newspapers heard of the patriotic girl vigilante's exploits, they began referring to her as 'Patriot Woman'. She was extolled as a symbol of the new American Woman, making such a tremendous contribution to winning the war. Recognizing the important contribution, the lone vigilante made, and aware of the headlines she was making, the F.B.I. made her an unpaid, unofficial agent.

As one grizzled, senior agent cynically observed. "Better the camel's INSIDE the tent, peeing out...etc."

On an inspection tour to the City, F.B.I. Director Hoover, himself, made it official. The small, mincing Director never passed up an opportunity to cash in on publicity that might further his relentless, bureaucratic, empire-building. Standing on an off-camera soap crate, he reached up, and pinned an honorary, gold badge on Patriot's Woman's broad chest, as press photographer's flash bulbs popped. Sally's enormous, buoyant bosom quivered in excitement. The pudgy bureaucrat fidgeted nervously, at the proximity of so much voluptuous, female flesh, but managed to conceal his discomfort behind an insincere, oily smile.

Though her nightly efforts were rewarded by a string of successes, one foe always eluded Patriot Woman. A mysterious, masked, female hijacker known only as 'the Vixen', always seemed one step ahead of Sally and the authorities, pulling off a long succession of profitable robberies, that had a crippling effect on war production.

Until the start of the War, Vera Margolis was the youthful, but highly successful, madame of a string of illicit houses of prostitution, serving the docks, industrial areas, and military bases, in and around the City. Vera grew up on the docks, herself, a tough streetwise, petty thief, who at sixteen turned to prostitution. A natural street brawler, handy with her fists, and never reticent in using foul tactics, Vera soon fought her way to the top of her profession. With no help from male pimps, Vera ran her enterprise with an iron fist. From time to time, some local male thug tried to muscle in on her operation, but after Vera beat several of them to within an inch of their lives, they steered clear of the feisty, young, blond madam.

At the outbreak of hostilities, while Sally Mason viewed the war as an opportunity to serve her country, Vera Margolis shrewdly saw the opportunities massive military war production offered, for large profits. Naturally, she went heavily into the black market, and the counterfeiting of rationing stamps. Why pay for goods to sell in her black market outlets? Though maintaining firm control of her 'houses', and other enterprises, Vera entered into a highly profitable new career, as hijacker extraordinaire. Always slyly distrustful, she worked alone, to avoid the danger of underlings who might squeal to the authorities.

Vixen barely eluded Patriot Woman's grasp on a number of occasions, and the hijacker lost several valuable hauls in the process. Vixen came to detest her relentless nemesis, who always seemed to be right on her heels, foiling so many of her schemes.

"That fat overgrown, muscle-bound tub of lard! One of these days..."

In 1944, as the war reached a critical stage, and every ounce of war material was crucial, Patriot Woman's long quest was rewarded. At last, she came face to face with the elusive Vixen.

On her nightly rounds, Sally discovered a large van, illegally parked near the loading dock of a local factory. The van was already nearly full of bales of nylon used to make parachutes. That much scarce nylon would bring a small fortune on the black market.

Patriot Woman waited in the shadows, seething angrily. Hijackers of war materials were traitors to the Country she loved. A few moments later, a slim, blond, masked woman, in a catsuit, slipped furtively from inside. She was carrying the final bale of contraband, that would fill her van.
 
Patriot Woman stepped from the shadows.

"Got you at last, Vixen!"

The masked blond gasped; the bale fell from her shoulder, as she dropped into a defensive crouch.



In her guise of Patriot Woman, Sally never used more of her enormous strength, than was necessary to subdue, and apprehend criminals, or, if necessary, to defend herself. Tonight, patriotic fervor boiled over! This vile, unpatriotic wretch wouldn't escape this time! Facing the despicable creature, who had done so much damage to the war effort, Sally saw red. She smacked Vixen's face with all her might.



Once she started, Sally couldn't stop herself. She kept smacking the squealing blond, venting more than two years of repressed, righteous frustration.




Patriot Woman grabbed the cringing blond, and picked her right up off the ground. She shook her violently, like a terrier shakes a rat.




In her fury, Patriot Woman clasped the terrified hijacker to her mighty bosom, and crushed the slight cat-suited form in her massive arms.




Though terrified by the huge, former strong woman, Vixen possessed a cunning instinct for survival.  She also possessed an enormous, natural talent for fighting dirty, a skill she had honed to perfection. She could never have survived as long as she had, without both. Though frightened nearly out of her wits, Vixen didn't panic. Desperately, she drove her knee up into Sally's crotch with all her strength, which was not negligible. She certainly wasn't as strong as Patriot Woman, and though much smaller than the other woman, Vera was extremely strong for her size. The hard, bony knee to the most sensitive area of Sally's body, sent shock-waves through her mighty form, and Vixen squirmed free.



Free of those frighteningly massive arms, Vixen saw red herself.

How dare this interfering bitch?

Now that she was loose, the furious Vixen rammed her knee into the unfortunate Patriot Woman's crotch, a second time. Standing solidly on the ground, Vixen was able to get even more force into the second knee-lift, and nearly lifted Sally's toes off the ground.

Patriot Woman screamed, and squawked in agony.
 
"That'll teach the fat tub!"


Two terrible kicks to her crotch left Patriot Woman in near shock. She was transfixed, trembling in awful pain.

 It would be easy to jump in the van and drive off, now! But, Vixen eyed her gasping foe, venomously, still infuriated.

NO! She'd had enough of this 'bitch' always dogging her steps.

AND, how dare this big lummox slap, and manhandle her? Nobody did that to Vixen, and got away with it! She'd teach this "Patriot Woman" a lesson, she'd never forget!



Before the huge woman recovered from her shock, a small rock hard fist crashed into her jaw. Unlike many women, Vixen enjoyed using her fists, and did it very effectively. She'd even taken extensive boxing lessons, and her pugilistic instructor was amazed at how skillful she became. If she was a man, she might have become lightweight champion.


Patriot Woman staggered sideways, and Vixen grabbed her around the neck, in a reverse choke hold, bending her even further.



Holding her huge opponent, so she couldn't block it, even while choking the life out of her, Vixen smashed her fist into Patriot Woman's scarlet-clad belly. Even muscles like Sally's couldn't shield her from the pain of an unexpected punch like that.



As Sally grunted in agony, Vixen kicked her legs out from under her.


Patriot Woman hit the ground with a loud thump, and sprawled at Vixen's feet.


Nobody did that to Sally Mason, not to Patriot Woman, proud symbol of American womanhood!



Vixen was rarely impressed by an opponent's threats, especially not one sprawled at her feet. She kicked Patriot Woman in the jaw, before the larger, slower moving, woman could get up.


Dizzied by the kick to her jaw, Patriot Woman gamely rolled to the side, intending to quickly spring to her feet, but Vixen grabbed her from behind, by her thick brown hair, and hauled her erect, a lot quicker than Sally ever hoped to get up.




Patriot Woman squealed in pain, as the hijacker tugged at her hair, but the pain cleared her senses. With an angry roar, the former strong woman twisted loose, and rammed her elbow into Vixen's bust.


Patriot Woman wheeled furiously, and swung her fist. Vixen barely ducked in time, just avoiding the blow that would certainly have felled her.



At the beginning of the fight, Vixen was intimidated by Patriot Woman's impressive size and mighty muscles, but she'd successfully withstood the first onslaught, and knocked the bigger woman to the ground. She had recovered all her arrogant confidence. She stood her ground, dodging and weaving with skilled agility. Obviously, Patriot Woman, though she might be strong as a lioness, and a capable, 'rough and tumble' wrestler, didn't have pugilistic skill matching Vixen's.



Though no boxer, Sally was a former circus performer, and a skilled tumbler. She was extremely quick and agile, for her vast size, and came close to connecting with one of her furious swings. She wasn't quite as quick and agile as the smaller Vixen though, even if the close call sent cold shivers down Vera's back.


After that, Vixen kept her distance, backpedaling away from the much bigger woman. Though she came close, the irate Patriot Woman could never quite hit the wily Vixen a solid blow. She was growing more and more exasperated.



Seeing Patriot Woman's growing fury, and hopeful of provoking her into some rash move, Vixen had the temerity to thumb her nose at the huge, incredibly powerful crusader, from a safe distance, of course. Patriot Woman exploded in anger. Thumb her nose at the proud symbol of American Womanhood, would she?


In exasperated, furious frustration, Patriot Woman kicked at her hated foe.


The quick-witted criminal deftly avoided the kick, and grabbed Patriot Woman's leg. This was the mistake, she hoped to provoke. Sally gulped in alarm, as she hopped on one foot to maintain her balance.


Once again Vixen's leg pulverized Patriot Woman's vulnerable crotch, still tender from previous attacks.




After that kick, it was a lot easier for Vixen to blast her fists past Sally's defenses. Vera was pleased to use Patriot Woman's belt as a guide, taking great care, that ALL her punches landed well BELOW that belt.








The odious attack to her lower belly, and vulnerable womanhood, had the intended effect. Patriot Woman doubled over, moaning and gasping in terrible distress.


Oh Dear Heaven, it hurt so! Unable to control her wildly trembling legs, Patriot Woman almost fell.



Vixen gave her stricken foe no time to recover, but straightened her up, with a wicked left to the jaw.


The followup, right uppercut to the same spot rattled Sally's senses. Everything whirled around crazily. What was happening?


"Hah! Like shooting fish in a barrel! This is too easy, but it sure is lottsa' fun!" Vera thought. She proceeded to punch her stricken foe at will, as though giving a leisurely pugilistic demonstration. It was easy to measure her punches, and strike with maximum deadly effectiveness.







As Sally nursed one painful injury, Vera hit her somewhere else.


The only thing, Patriot Woman was aware of, now, was the sound of loud thumps, the jarring impacts, and then sudden fierce, NEW pain.







Like a tall tree, Patriot Woman started to topple, but Vixen grabbed her belt, to steady her for one final haymaker.

"Hah! This belt's been real handy!"




Patriot Woman crashed to the ground, insensible, as Vixen watched in gloating satisfaction.


Groaning in pain, and barely conscious, Patriot Woman did know one thing: Vixen had WON! It was a bitter pill to swallow! There was no way she could stop the evil hijacker from driving away with her loot, now. For the first time in almost three years of valiant effort, Patriot Woman had FAILED!


Vixen grabbed Sally by the hair, and pulled her head up. Neither woman doubted Vixen had won the fight, and soundly thrashed Patriot Woman.  When Vera pulled her head up and looked down, her face a cold, sullen mask of hatred, Sally's big, blue eyes opened wide in sudden alarm. With a shiver of dread, Sally realized that, she not only failed to stop the robbery, but now she was at the heartless criminal's mercy. Patriot Woman suddenly looked scared.


Vera's thoughts were running parallel to Sally's. She knew she'd won the fight! There was no way the moaning, half-conscious Patriot Woman could interfere with her well-planned robbery, now!

But was that enough? Vixen was still boiling mad. Patriot Woman had hounded her for nearly three years, often spoiling her best laid schemes, making her a hunted fugitive! It would be a pleasure to teach the self-righteous, crusading busy-body a lesson she'd never forget, while she had the chance. She let go of Sally's brown hair, and with the venomous suddenness of a striking rattler, kicked the fallen heroine over on her back.


Payback was SWEET!


YEAH! Grind her into the dirt!




When Vixen raised her foot from her stricken foe, Patriot Woman continued to writhe and moan in terrible agony. Vixen looked down at the beautiful vigilante, and snickered in smug derision.


Vixen dragged Sally up on her knees, and pulled the big woman's beautiful face between her thighs.
 
"This'll teach 'lard-butt' t'keep her fat face outa' MY business!"


Vixen's slim steely thighs crushed Patriot Woman's head and neck with relentless, vindictive force. Sally squalled and choked, helplessly.




Vera didn't release her victim, until Sally was nearly unconscious, again.



Patriot Woman sprawled helplessly at Vixen's feet, moaning in anguish.

"Oh, maybe she'll stop now! Hasn't she done enough to me?"

By now, Sally was really scared.

Oh! If she could only get away from her!


When Vixen threatened to continue "softening her up", Patriot Woman panicked. Vixen was sadistically enjoying this merciless beating, now that she had the upper hand. The luckless, brown-haired, strong woman couldn't bear much more pain. Desperately, Sally scrambled to her feet. The additional, awful pain the effort cost her battered body, underscored just how helpless she was.


Though it was a mortifying, ignominious ending to her years of triumph, the dauntless Patriot Woman had enough. She HAD TO escape the blond's vengeance, before Vixen crippled or even killed her, with those deadly, little fists. Patriot Woman turned tail, to run for her life!



Sally just wasn't fast enough; Vixen ruthlessly, and contemptuously, cut short her hope of escape.



Halting Sally's flight with a painful kick in the behind, Vera grabbed her by the hair.



Vixen pulled the frightened Patriot Woman around to face her; Sally squealed in alarm. The vindictive hijacker hadn't forgotten those contemptuous slaps, at the start of their encounter. Two could play that game! Vera smacked her reeling, groggy opponent's head from side to side.

Sally tried to block the slaps, but, oh her arms ached so, and she was so dizzy, and the nasty little blond was so quick! The frightened, girl vigilante couldn't avoid, or escape, the mortifying punishment.



Patriot Woman wailed helplessly, as the harsh slaps pummeled her head from side to side.










The humiliating punishment continued, until Patriot Woman turned away, whimpering, plaintively, for her merciless foe to stop.


The vindictive Vixen grabbed the whimpering Patriot Woman, and pulled her close enough to seize her unresistant foe around the waist.




Vera hadn't forgotten Patriot Woman lifting her off the ground, and squeezing the life out of her, either. Maybe, she couldn't lift the huge woman off the ground, but she could sure, as heck, squeeze the life out of her! Patriot Woman wailed in terror, as Vixen's slim, yet fearfully strong, arms clamped tight around her svelte middle. Back in the circus, Sally often had members of the audience use a sledgehammer to smash concrete blocks, laid on her flat, incredibly muscled abdomen. That was before she encountered Vixen, who had turned those indestructible muscles to mush.






When Vixen first grabbed her, terror gave the distraught brown-haired woman strength to struggle with hysterical desperation. Vixen laughed contemptuously at Sally's wild, frantic struggles; they only made her victim's plight worse. Unable to escape, in mere seconds, those wiry arms sapped the former strong woman's last reserves, and nearly snapped her spine. The mighty Patriot Woman sagged helplessly in the criminals dominant grasp, moaning in dire distress.


Hardly conscious, and suffering in terrible agony, the once invincible Patriot Woman, whimpered  another bitter plea.

"Pl-please...no more..."


Vixen released her groaning, nearly swooning foe, with a snort of disgust. Weak as a baby, Patriot Woman almost collapsed. Swaying powerlessly, her mighty legs trembling uncontrollably, the valiant vigilante gave way to despair. Vixen's cruel, overwhelming mastery had broken her!



Patriot Woman teetered on quivering legs, still moaning at the agonizing pain Vixen had inflicted. All she could think of, was the way the criminal held her under her complete control, cruelly punishing her like a helpless child, until she almost passed out. It was the most frightening moment of her life! She knew she'd ever forget the awful fear.
 


Patriot Woman's stomach churned in terror. She wanted more than anything to flee from the hateful, little blond, but when she tried that before, the quick, little criminal cut her flight short, and harshly punished her for the attempt. Oh, what should she do?

Vixen made Sally's mind up, for her. She saw the hunted, desperate despair in her prey's eyes. She grabbed Sally's arm, just in case the other woman still harbored any hopes of escape. The once invincible girl vigilante wailed in alarm.


Terrorized, Patriot Woman instinctively pulled away from the cruel, frightening blond. Vixen reached threateningly for her again, hand raised to strike. Sally cowered away from the small hijacker, her lower lip quivering like a frightened rabbit, mewling in fear.


Though Sally was a foot taller and twice as broad, Vixen grabbed her battered, cowed foe by her shirt, hand still poised to strike. Patriot Woman trembled in terror, her enormous bosom jiggling, in alarm, at Vera's touch. She NEARLY wet her pants in fright. Incapable of resistance, she sniffled pathetically in final abject surrender to her hateful nemesis.



"Now stand there, and don't give me anymore trouble, or I might get mad again, and rally beat the shit outa' you!"

Trembling fearfully, Sally did as she as told. She sure didn't want Vixen to beat her any worse than she already had!

Seeing her beaten foe wasn't going to give her any more trouble, Vixen let go of the shirt, her hand dropping to her side. Patriot Woman felt Vixen's cold, cruel eyes examining her speculatively.

"N-now what?"

Sally's heart beat in fearful dread, at the consequences of this unforeseen, disastrous conclusion to her long quest.

"(gulp)...Is she going to kill me?" Sally's hammering heart beat like a trip hammer.

As the fight wound down, and Vera's fury cooled, it occurred to the wily villainess, that Patriot Woman had examined her van, and undoubtedly, noted the license number. Vixen usually used stolen vehicles, but they were becoming increasingly hard to come by, as the war dragged on. Tonight, she'd carelessly driven here in a vehicle registered in her own name. With that information, the F.B.I. would soon be at her door. Despite her mask, she had little doubt Patriot Woman would have no trouble identifying her in a police line-up.

How to silence her?

"Shit! What am I gonna do with the Big Cow, now?" Vera deliberated. Despicable as she was, Vera never murdered anyone in cold blood, and had no wish to start. With her record, a murder conviction would certainly end in the electric chair.

Vera pondered, eying the huge, trembling, brown-haired woman, critically, from head to toe. "She's big as a house, and got muscles like Charles Atlas, but some johns like that! Guess some guys might think that simpering puss o'hers is pretty, too! And, o'course, there's those BIG tits! Shit I never saw tits that big, before, and in my line, I've seen plenty! Wonder if they're 'falsies'?"  

Vixen hefted one of Sally's huge, gourd-like breasts, in a contemptuous, possessive gesture of  evaluation. She gave it a squeeze, as she might a melon, only Sally's breast was bigger than most cantaloupes, Vera ever saw. Paralyzed by fear, the mortified vigilante strong woman passively endured the hateful  familiarity, with a sniff of misery. Vera felt living flesh tremble in fear at her grip.

"Nope, them babies is real, all ten pounds o'them! Yep! Maybe...?"


Emboldened by her defeated foe's fearfully submissive acceptance of the first indignity, Vixen began fumbling with the belt of Patriot Woman's proud costume. With a thrill of terrible horror, the defeated woman realized Vixen intended to strip and denude her.

"Oh Gosh! Is she one of THOSE kind of women...? Is she going to...?"

To the victor belonged the spoils!

Actually, Vera wasn't one of 'THOSE kind of women', not usually, anyway. But she did intend to make a thorough, professional examination of Sally's bountiful attributes, before coming to a final decision.



Though she wailed plaintively in protest, Patriot Woman was too badly frightened to resist, as Vixen roughly stripped her naked.




The huge, powerfully built, Patriot Woman shamefully tried to cover her humiliating nakedness, no different from a little girl caught naked in the shower. Her tiny, victorious foe snickered in derision.

"Hah! Take more'n hands to cover that big cow up!"

Oh, how terrible to be naked, and at the mercy of this cruel, sneering, little blond, not half her size!



Vixen callously inspected her sniffling victim's sumptuous curves, pawing and poking her in expert evaluation. She was pleased by what she saw.

"Yep! I think she'll do nicely!"






Vixen produced several lengths of rope, from the mysterious recesses of her costume, always ready for emergencies. A despairing, woeful Patriot Woman disconsolately let the evil blond bind her. At least Vixen wouldn't bother tying her up, if she was going to kill her.


As Vixen tied her up, the distraught Patriot Woman plaintively whimpered a question about her fate.

Vixen laughed nastily at the question.




Having expertly bound her prisoner, Vixen completed Patriot Woman's humiliating bondage with a gag, Sally's own star-striped headband torn from her hair.




Having fully secured her hapless captive, Vixen speculatively pinched a huge, buoyant breast again, estimating its value.


After the final fleeting inspection, Vixen added her captive to her other booty. Defeated, denuded and bound, the nearly weeping Patriot Woman was shoved unceremoniously into the truck, atop the rest of Vixen's loot, with a demeaning smack to her broad behind.


In a sub-basement concealed beneath one of her 'cathouses', Vera maintained a temporary storeroom for disposal of her loot. She paid hefty protection money to local authorities, and although they might occasionally raid the upper premises, it was a token raid tipped off beforehand, and their searches were always perfunctory. Vera stored Patriot Woman here with the stolen bales of nylon.

Trussed up like a chicken, terrified of her fate, Sally wished she never left the circus.


Vixen had no intention of installing Sally in one of her own establishments. The huge, statuesque oft-publicized, Patriot Woman would be instantly recognized by any one of her clients from the City, and there was certain to be an incredible hue and cry at her disappearance. Fortuitously, Vera maintained contacts, South of the Border, who would pay top dollar for a gorgeous, full-bodied American woman. First though, the brown-haired beauty would have to be taught to be more agreeable and pliant. Vixen was an expert at that kind of instruction.

Having the rest of the night free, Vera began a crash course in harlotry, in anticipation, of shipping her reluctant, unhappy pupil, South, next morning. Arming herself with a sinister looking whip, Vera released Sally from her bondage.

"Okay Cuddles, we're gonna' teach you to be a WHORE! Ya got a lot t'learn, and not much time t'learn it, so PAY ATTENTION!" Vera cracked the long whip, right under Sally's nose for emphasis.

Sally jumped back in alarm.

What? Teach her to be a...a...a fallen woman? Never! Why she'd never even...NICE girls didn't do that kind of thing with a man, unless lawfully married, by a Preacher!

Sally dreaded another encounter with the merciless Vixen, but she certainly WASN'T going to learn to be a loose woman. And she wasn't going to take a whipping lying down, either. No American Woman should submit to THAT!

Now that her arms and legs were free, Sally felt some confidence returning. She was Patriot Woman! After all, even if she was naked and unarmed, she was twice as big as Vixen, and probably three times as strong. Patriot Woman eyed the whip warily. Maybe, she could even get that awful whip away from Vixen, and turn the tables on her!



Patriot Woman made a desperate lunge to grab the whip, and wrest it away from Vixen, but once again, the wily criminal was one step ahead of her. Before Sally could reach the smaller woman, the whip cracked loudly, and snaked around her lower body, emblazoning an agonizing, searing welt across the creamy perfection of her splendidly muscled hindquarters.



Patriot Woman shrieked at the fierce pain in her backside, and tried to avoid another blow, but there was no room to maneuver in the confined, underground dungeon. Vixen expertly struck again. The hideous lash wrapped around Sally's lower abdomen and left buttock, like a fiery coil.



Paralyzed by the pain of the first two lashes, Patriot Woman was an easy mark for the third. Vixen slashed the whip across Sally's huge, vulnerably exposed buttocks.


Panicked by the fierce pain, forgetting there was no place to run, Patriot Woman tried to flee from the terrible whip, but with an expert snap of her wrist, Vixen tangled the lash about her prey's ankles, and pulled her shapely legs out from under her.



Patriot Woman's huge, shapely form crashed to the dirty floor. Her immense bosom and muscular belly painfully absorbed the impact.



Once she skillfully upended her huge, denuded victim, Vixen immediately resumed the cruel whipping. The squalling Patriot Woman squirmed on all fours, unable to escape.




Helpless to avoid the stinging lashes; between screams, Patriot Woman was soon loudly begging Vixen to stop. Her pleas were answered with a sneering laugh, and more cruel blows of the whip.




Vixen was expert at inflicting the most hideous pain to her female victims.

"Yiiiiieeeeeee...OH GOD...my pussy..."


In desperation, Patriot Woman, her body on fire with pain, dragged herself, to Vixen's feet and pawed pathetically at the hijacker's boot, in supplication.



Broken by unbearable pain, Patriot Woman continued to crouch at Vixen's feet, and abjectly plead for mercy, promising full obedience to the vicious whore mistress.



In order to test her terror-instilled authority, Vixen removed her black boots and handed them to the sobbing Patriot Woman, with a demeaning order, as to how she was to polish them.

"Lick'em!"


With a heartbroken sob, Patriot Woman glanced down at the dirty boots in her hands. She shuddered in disgust, but then with another sob, mumbled an acquiescent reply.


Sobbing and gagging, the hapless girl vigilante licked and slobbered at the boots, until the black leather gleamed.



When the uppers were done, the grinning Vixen ordered poor Sally to lick the soles and heels as well. Oh how could she...? But after glancing up at Vixen's intimidating, little figure, and shuddering in disgust, Patriot Woman completed her assigned task.


When the boots were polished to Vera's demanding standards, she proceeded to teach the virtuous Patriot Woman the rudiments of seductive harlotry.


Vixen donned a large dildo, for instruction in the finer points of satisfying male clients.


When Sally mastered the rudiments of fellatio, Vixen ordered her to lean across a small table.



For a moment, Vixen inspected Patriot Woman's small, pink pussy, peeping demurely between muscular buttocks, and then, presto, IN LIKE FLYNN! Errol couldn't have done it better, himself!


Patriot Woman was shamefully shocked by her own reaction to Vixen's large dildo. She never imagined...



Satisfied that her reluctant pupil had learned as much as she could teach her in one night, Vixen shoved Patriot Woman inside a large, upright crate, and secured her with ropes, fastened to large, strong staples embedded in the wood.



It can't be denied that despite her vicious outlook on life, Vera Margolis possessed an ironic sense of humor, albeit, of a macabre bent. In the early hours of the morning of the robbery, a Policeman walking his beat made an ominous discovery. Outside the vandalized, parachute factory, brazenly nailed to a tree, beneath a Wanted Poster for Vixen, herself, he found Patriot Woman's renowned uniform.



Vera's practical joke was to prove her undoing! Local F.B.I. Agents were aghast at the sinister discovery, when it was immediately communicated to them. Having publicly endorsed Patriot Woman's crusade, Director Hoover, himself, would be made to look foolish, if the details were made public. In that case, local agents own career prospects in the Agency would be bleak, indeed. The diminutive Director never forgave any slight to his pompous, grandiose dignity!

ALL the machinery of Federal Law Enforcement nervously sprang into action.

Using Wartime Security powers, all media mention of the incident was suppressed. Certain more astute agents had long suspected a connection between Vixen and Vera Margolis. Mobilizing all resources at its disposal, the F.B.I. conducted its own unannounced, early morning raids on every one of Vera's establishments. Every building was thoroughly, painstakingly searched from top to bottom. Just as Vixen picked up a hammer, to nail shut the crate containing the terrified Patriot Woman, the G-Men burst into her lair.

The quick-witted Vera made a miraculous escape through a tunnel, prepared for such an eventuality. But instead of Patriot Woman, it was Vixen herself, who disappeared South of the Border. Fortunately for the hijacker, she had stashed much of her ill-gotten gains in foreign banks, and had interests in several Latin bawdy houses.

Glossing over Vera's own escape, the F.B.I. took full credit for smashing Vixen's operation. In order to scotch any rumors afloat, it was semi-officially leaked to the press, that acting on behalf of the Agency, Patriot Woman had infiltrated the organization, at the risk of her life, to uncover its secrets.

The President commended Director Hoover for his agency's vigilance. Acting on behalf of her husband, First Lady Eleanor awarded Patriot Woman a medal for heroism. Unlike Director Hoover, the gracious First Lady exhibited no discomfort at the proximity of so much voluptuous, female flesh, as she lovingly, lingeringly, (longingly?) pinned the decoration on Sally's incredibly luscious bosom, jiggling in excited abandon, at the honor.


The End.