Lady Liberty in... Bound By Greed!

The room was stark, a monochrome contrast to the vibrant hues of Lady Liberty's usual attire. The walls, a deep obsidian, seemed to absorb the light, while the floor was a pristine white, cold and unyielding. In the center stood a bench, its purpose clear in the restraints that dangled from its sides like the tentacles of some bondage-loving octopus. This was the Director's domain, a place where the usual rules of morality and decency were bent to the will of the man who embodied the unchecked greed of an entire nation.

Lady Liberty's heart raced as she stood before the Director, her skintight costume a second skin that left little to the imagination. Her large breasts, a testament to the bounty of the land she protected, strained against the fabric, while her violet eyes flickered with a mix of anticipation and the faintest hint of dread. She was here by choice, bound by an unspoken pact that maintained the delicate balance between her duty and the darker desires that simmered beneath her star-spangled exterior.

The Director, with his silver hair and sharp features, exuded an air of dominance that made the room seem smaller, his presence overwhelming. His eyes, a piercing blue, raked over her body, drinking in the sight of the heroine who had thwarted his plans time and again. Today, however, there would be no battles, no grandstands of ideology. Today, they would engage in a different kind of warfare, one waged with flesh and moans rather than fists and fury.

"Liberty," the Director purred, his voice a velvet rasp that seemed to stroke her very soul. "You look as delectable as ever."

With a grace born of countless battles, Lady Liberty peeled away her costume, revealing the body that had been the subject of many a soldier's dream. Her skin was flawless, a canvas of alabaster that begged to be marked by the hands of the man before her. She stood naked and unashamed, her nipples hardening under the cool air and the heated gaze of her adversary.

The Director approached, his movements fluid and predatory. He reached out, his fingers ghosting over her breasts before he gripped them firmly, kneading the soft flesh and eliciting a gasp from the usually unflappable heroine. His other hand slipped between her thighs, finding the evidence of her arousal that soaked her delicate folds.

"Such a good little whore for capitalism," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he roughly fingered her, each thrust of his digits drawing whimpers of pleasure from her lips.

Lady Liberty's empathic powers flared, a kaleidoscope of sensation that threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel the Director's dominating spirit, a ruthless **** that sought to consume and corrupt, but beneath that was a raw, animalistic desire that matched her own. It was a desire that, for this one day, she allowed herself to indulge in without restraint.

With a strength that belied his age, the Director maneuvered her onto the bench, securing her wrists and ankles with the restraints. Lady Liberty was spread eagle, her body on display for the man who now circled her like a shark scenting blood. She tugged at her bonds, not from a desire to escape, but from the need to feel the bite of her submission.

The Director unveiled his cock, a monstrous appendage that Lady Liberty had come to know intimately over the years. The Cock of Unfettered Greed, she had privately named it, and it was as imposing as the man it was attached to. He approached, his member bobbing with each step, and positioned himself at her lips.

"Open wide, my dear," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.

Lady Liberty parted her lips, her tongue darting out to taste the bead of precum that had formed at the tip of his cock. The Director grasped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her black hair as he thrust forward, filling her mouth with his girth. He fucked her face with abandon, his hips snapping forward as he used her mouth for his pleasure.

Spit dribbled down her chin, her violet eyes watering as she struggled to accommodate his size. The Director's groans of pleasure filled the room, a symphony of lust that spurred Lady Liberty on. She was a vessel for his desires, a receptacle for the greed that defined him.

After what felt like an eternity, the Director withdrew, his cock glistening with her saliva. He moved between her legs, the head of his cock notching at her entrance before he drove into her with one brutal thrust. Lady Liberty cried out, her pussy walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.

He pounded into her, each stroke of his cock sending waves of pleasure crashing over her. The Director leaned forward, his teeth capturing one of her engorged nipples and biting down just hard enough to make her gasp. His hands roamed her body, pinching and teasing her skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

The Director's fingers found her clitoris, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with expert precision. He applied pressure, his fingers moving in time with his thrusts, and Lady Liberty felt the coil of her orgasm tightening within her. She was close, so close, and the Director knew it.

"Come for me, Liberty," he growled, his voice laced with the same command that had built empires and toppled kings.

At his words, Lady Liberty's world shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her, a tsunami of pleasure that left her shaking and gasping for air. The Director followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his oily sperm, the embodiment of greed spilling into the body of the woman who represented the very best of America.

But the Director was not yet done with her. He withdrew from her still-quivering pussy and moved to stand by her head. He selected a flogger from a nearby table, the leather tresses whispering promises of pain and pleasure as he swung it gently through the air.

Lady Liberty's eyes widened, a fresh wave of arousal flooding her system as she anticipated the sting of the leather against her skin. The Director took his time, the flogger kissing her breasts, her thighs, her stomach, each strike eliciting a cry from her lips that was equal parts agony and ecstasy.

Her screams only served to harden the Director's cock once more. He moved behind her, his fingers probing her anus. With one brutal thrust, he impaled her upon his length, her tight ring of muscle offering a delicious resistance.

The pain was intense, but it quickly morphed into a pleasure that bordered on the obscene. Lady Liberty's cries of pain turned into grunts of pleasure, each thrust of the Director's cock driving her closer to another earth-shattering orgasm.

The Director was relentless, his fingers finding her pussy once more and thrusting inside her. He added a fourth finger, stretching her impossibly wide as he brutally rubbed her clitoris. His other hand gripped her hair, pulling her head back as he savaged her body, his teeth and cock working in tandem to wring every last drop of pleasure from her.

Lady Liberty's orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. The Director followed suit, his cock throbbing as he filled her ass with his seed, the excess leaking out and dripping onto the pristine white floor below.

Spent, the Director released her from her bonds, his touch now almost gentle as he caressed her sweat-slick skin. Lady Liberty lay there, her body a map of the Director's desires, but she was unblemished, the American Way ensuring that her indiscretions remained hidden beneath her pristine exterior.

They shared a look, a silent acknowledgment of the power that existed between them. It was a power that was as old as the nation itself, a power that was born from the struggle between freedom and greed, between hope and despair.

"Until next year, my dear," the Director murmured, his voice a soft caress that belied the monster that lay beneath.

Lady Liberty nodded, already feeling the pull of her duties, the call to protect and serve the country she loved so dearly. She dressed, her costume a symbol of the hope and courage that defined her. As she stepped out of the Director's lair and into the world beyond, she felt the weight of her responsibilities settle upon her shoulders once more.

But as she soared through the sky, the wind caressing her face, Lady Liberty couldn't help but smile. For she knew that for one day each year, she could lay down her shield and her sword and surrender to the dark desires that raged within her. And in doing so, she ensured that the delicate balance between good and evil, between liberty and tyranny, remained intact for another year.

And so, the cycle continued, an eternal dance between two forces that were as American as apple pie and the Fourth of July. It was a dance that was as old as time itself, a dance that would continue as long as the stars and stripes flew high above the land of the free and the home of the brave.

AN: Generated using Smitten+, completely unedited from what the AI came up with. Image is of Wonder Woman, taken off R34, no idea original source.