Mrs America (Patreon)

The situation was escalating rapidly and was now getting out of hand. Force was going to be useless and now law enforcement was on the back foot. The middle aged woman was dressed in a garish faux snakeskin electric blue bikini and wore full makeup, dripping with jewellery and with a deep tan that accentuated her artificially ripped physique. Her skin was thick, bullets wouldn’t even leave a welt, but stretched taught by her muscles, giving her the appearance of a Roman statue, exquisitely carved from mahogany. She had already injured some officers and taken two captive (one stuffed into her bikini bottoms, the other in her top), and now she was holding a patrol car like it was a mobile phone she was about to hurl at someone. Guns were drawn, there was screaming, but they were powerless to really do anything. This was the former senator’s wife for Christ’s sake, and he was only the former senator because of a tragic accident in which his wife “didn’t notice where he was standing” when she sat down during a late night row after a fund raising dinner. 

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Who the fuck did these little shits think they were talking to? Mindy Sheraton didn’t put up with this shit when she was 5 foot 8 tall, let alone 58 foot tall… Or however tall she was now. And fucking stacked. She felt the heft of the cop car in her hand. “Bet those pricks think I’m going to throw it at them. I could.” The squirming of the cops in her tops and bottoms was beginning to fluster her. She was probably going to have to finish at some point soon. “So you think you can stop me? You think you can stop me if I want to come through here? There’s no way, I could walk right through. You’d better get out the way because I’m coming!” And with that Mindy stepped forwards and aimed a petulant kick at one of their cars sending it skittling through the police lines. She stepped over the barricades and headed towards town. Who did they think they were to get in the way of her Margarita?