Ms. Americana: The Rise of Bliss
Chapter 2:
It’s times like this I’m glad it became fashionable among the super-rich to have personal, state-of-the-art medical facilities beneath one’s own mansion. Otherwise someone might think I had a secret heroine patch-up station, complete with doctors paid exorbitant amounts of money to keep secrets.
My private doctor confirmed my fears. The protein RXL6 was present in my abdomen and genital regions, complete with nano machines to make it RXL6-2. My body had metabolized most of the protein so I wasn’t uncontrollably horny anymore, but the machines would withstand attack from my immune system for much longer. (He called it a “soldier vs. Terminator” situation.) The machines would amplify input from my nerves and make my muscles twitch harder and longer than ever. Long story short, for the next month I’d be cumming faster and harder than ever before and it’d be easier to make me do so.
Believe it or not, that was the good news also. We had a documented medical case of potential misuse that would make the product unsafe—or at least the investigation would tie up all merger and acquisition activity for weeks, if not months. We just changed the name to “Jane Doe” and the paperwork was filed away by 6am.
The markets didn’t know what hit them. In fact, some board members DID short the stock and made a small fortune. I was a heroine around the WadeCorp executive offices for even pointing out this might happen. I later found out the loss of stock revenue would severely cripple production, meaning new shipments couldn’t be produced for Sugar Town. I. Fucking. Won.
The only thing to do was go to Darkview and smash these miscreants once and for all. With this matter so neatly settled and the Board had a nice, fresh pile of money to relax on it would be easy to take a month or two off. The boys love feeling like they’re in charge. Some of them aren’t thrilled about answering to a woman but I’m gone four months out of every year anyway—just enough time for them to feel like they run things.
Darkview is North of an island city called Chrystal Heights. Not much is known about Darkview, it must be some backwater suburb or industrial area. Chrystal Heights is described as a rather nice place though, said to have the best coffee houses in the world. It is not part of America though, so I must be prepared to face a slightly different culture and legal system. I wasn’t concerned; they can’t be as different as the Japanese and WadeCorp trades with them successfully on a daily basis.
I did take time to see Chrystal Heights. The Museum of Fertility is quite breath taking. It is a monument to female symbols and the power of creation—a gift only woman has the power to bear. I can’t believe three bimbos tried to rob the place once. I was glad to hear justice prevailed over them, even without me being here.
The coffee houses were disgusting. Before I could try a fabled cup people asked me if I wanted to work there. “No, I have a job and it’s quite above what goes on here, thank you.” I had sat down with my Dieci Belgian Chocolate Espresso (OK, the coffee here IS good) when I realized why. The waitresses wore short skirts, low tops, and had breasts bigger than mine. They flounced and giggled. Aphrodite herself had blessed them with womanly power and they were using it to serve coffee and entertain men’s sick tastes. It made the coffee taste bad…almost.
I might have fumed in peace when I saw a patron whisper something to a waitress and she crawled under the table. There was no mistaking the sound of a zipper or the sounds that came next. (I claimed it was my intuition but I was just on the wrong side of that stick two days ago.) I was so outraged I forgot I wasn’t in costume. I yanked the trollop from under the table by the back of her insignificant apron.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You are IN A PUBLIC PLACE!” I berated her but was slowed out of it by the size of her breasts. It was shocking. Back home hardly anyone ever came close to my Aphrodite-gene-enhanced chest size, yet every single employee here was bigger than me. I was also a good foot taller than the girls here and looking down on the long cleavage and rounded breasts made them seem even bigger.
The scene I was rightfully making came to a head when the manager showed up during my dissertation on why the man with his pants down was a scoundrel lower than vermin. I told him my problem. “YOU are a VILE human trafficker and I will have this place shut down!”
“Calm down, Miss,” he responded calmly. “Samwell House Coffee is one of the leading and most trusted brands of Chrystal Heights. I sincerely apologize if my employees have made you feel there was any untoward activity.”
Inside I was forced to admit the manager spoke fluent ‘Management.’ “Untoward activity? You’re running a sex ring!”
Normally people blanch at that accusation but he just stood and thought for a moment. “Tell me, Miss, are you American?”
Does he know who I am? Of course not, he’s a sniveling sweet-tongued toady who can’t run a successful coffee shop without prostitution income. “What does that have to do with anything? Are you some sort of racist too? My lawyers will tear you apart.”
“No, Miss, please understand. Here in Chrystal Heights this activity is legal. I understand America frowns on such activities, but we have a very sex-positive culture here.” He tried to change the subject. “Tell you what. We’ll take the coffee off your bill.”
Placate and remove the angry customer. We teach it to management all the time. “Do you know who I am? I will not be bought off with COFFEE.” (No matter how good.) If the law was on his side this could become an international incident, but my divine rage will not be stopped once it is unleashed on those who would victimize women. I am justice incarnate! “Legal or not I will have this place out of business by next week.”
My berating broke his placating demeanor. I had him! “Well, we can’t have that. Let’s see if we can’t turn that rage into something else.” I didn’t like his tone. It was the tone villains use before they unleash something I didn’t know about.
“You need to let go of your rage.” I felt a tingle in my chest.
“This rage weighs your head down and ruins simple joys like drinking coffee. Don’t you like drinking coffee?” It was really good.
I felt like asking what was wrong with my chest, but I couldn’t show weakness. My bra felt uncomfortable. This better not be like the last time I felt my clothing.
“The rage is leaving your head. You’d best let it go.” I’d best NOT let it go. This was no time to lose the fire. Was my chest getting bigger?
“If you don’t let it go, it will tear out something important as it leaves your mind.” My tits were getting bigger, and my head felt funny, like a very small part of the inside of my head had needles and pins.
“Just calm down and everything will be fine. It is your rage that hurts you. You’ll see.” I had to fidget with my bra under my shirt. My tits were plenty big enough, and this guy was making them bigger. I found new anger at that but my head felt like something bit it from the inside. With my bra off and my chest expanded, my nipples felt the inside of my blouse and got hard.
“Just take a deep breath and calm down and you’ll be fine. The tingles will go away, the headaches will go away.” He was right. Taking a deep breath in felt so much better than being angry. Sure my tits were big now but they’ve always been big. He put his hands on my shoulders to soothe me.
“Now just sit down on your knees here.” I bent my knees when I felt him pushing down with gentle pressure. I stood up and told him I wouldn’t become one of his blowjob sluts. A sharp pain in my head interrupted me, followed by a sharp pleasure in my chest. Damn nano machines.
“There’s your rage again. It hurts you. You have to get rid of it and just slide down into peace.” I tried to turn around but others were behind me. When they all grabbed my arms to stop me from turning around I tried to wrench free but I couldn’t. It was like I wasn’t angry enough anymore.
“Just slide down.” I let them push me to my knees. I was calming down but also heating up. My super strength hadn’t returned yet and being restrained also made me—umm…Aprhodite women horny. The machines had made me more sensitive and my expanded chest already untucked my blouse.
“You need to learn to accept our culture. Just slide down and accept what goes on here.” He had his cock out in front of my face. Then someone lifted up my shirt and grabbed my tits. It made me mad so I tried to stand. Then my head hurt and I saw my chest get even bigger. Then I felt calmer. It finally hit me—rage is leaving my mind and going into my tits. Who knows what else it was ripping out as it left.
“That’s right. Just open your mouth and accept our culture.” How did he know I knew? Well, I sucked off a few people yesterday so what’s one more here? I took him in my mouth, in my throat.
“That’s a good little bitch, you learned to calm down.”
“Ha ha, Mister Smarty Man,” I thought. “You won’t trick me into being angry. I won’t get my titties any bigger. I have to go to Darkview tomorrow to fight crime. Those people can feel my jugs all they want. They feel better anyway and make my pussy wet.” At that moment I was scared by my thoughts. They were different. I never called them “jugs” before.
I had to let him use my mouth without getting angry. I knew this dance, too. The hands grabbing me always went further and further until they pushed aside wet panties and went into my slit. They always mistook my wetness for willingness. “Open and accept,” I heard. The familiar taste of cum was in my mouth when I heard it again. I let my jaw fall open as pleasure from the fingers below washed over me. By the time the second cock was in my mouth I had one of those really strong orgasms. I had to wait for my powers to recharge before going to Darkview, so I’d be in town three more days now.
“Open and accept,” I heard again. I knew I was feeling different about this whole thing, but I couldn’t let it bother me. If it bothered me whatever this guy was doing would just get worse. Before I knew it my six-foot plus frame was bent over a coffee table with my designer skirt hiked around my waist. I opened and accepted. Somebody was fucking me hard from behind and my nano-infused body was loving it. I had a screaming orgasm around a stranger’s dick while watching people just go about drinking their coffee.
I was obedient by then. They didn’t know about the Aphrodite curse. They just saw another blowjob slut in a coffee house. The culture was different here. I never heard about how I was a slut for liking it or how badly I wanted it the whole time. Some cock just used my ass like it was there for him as much as the napkins and coffee stirrers.
After all was said and done I took in twenty or thirty loads of Chrystal Heights culture. Thankfully time was on my side for this mission to Darkview. If I wanted my powers back I’d have to go three days without my temper getting me into any more trouble. I think I’ll just stay inside the luxury hotel and try to put my brain back together.