DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR EASILY OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL, BONDAGE, DISCIPLINE, FEMALE SUBMISSION OR OTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS.

Ms Americana, Lady Midnight, Azure Angel are the creations of Mr. X. I came up with the villains.

Please direct all comments and feedback to dark_one@live.com. Put Ms Americana, Christmas Story, the story’s title or Story feedback in subject line, otherwise I might think it is spam and delete. Or visit my blog at: /.

MS AMERICANA: A XXXmas Carol

By Dark One

"Merry Fucking Christmas, Ms Americana," Kid Rotten sneered, thrusting his thick cock deep into her quivering cunt.

"MMmmmgggggghhh," Ms Americana groaned, her hot, wet mouth full of throbbing cock.

The Great and Mighty Queen of Justice, Delta City's own Ms Americana, was defeated. Never saw it coming, but the street people were waiting for her. They lured her into a trap, and chloroformed her. Not a single blow was thrown. She had no time to even think of putting up a fight.

Ms Americana was stripped down to her mask, tiara, gloves and boots. Her costume top, bottoms and power belt had been claimed as battle trophies by the three masterminds of the super heroine take down.

It was midnight now. She'd been captured just before nine that night. Three hours of nonstop FUCKING. The statuesque super heroine had lost the ability to think coherently three hours ago. She was just a fucking, sucking sex machine now. Her super shapely body had NEEDS, and she was sating them properly.

This was not Kid's and JJ Rod's first time fucking her that night. They were back for thirds. A lottery had already been conducted, and Kid won Ms Americana. After midnight, she would be his. But, for the street people, he had to unmask her first, right there in front of them all. Inquiring minds wanted to know, after all.

"What a Christmas present," Kid crowed. The tall, blonde, purple clad pimp starting spanking her sweet round ass as he pumped his cock in and out at a furious rate, trying to make her climax AGAIN. "Man, this super ho has the hottest, tightest pussy in all creation. And it QUIVERS once she starts climaxing."

"I know," JJ Rod said, grunting and groaning as the super sexy super heroine sucked his big black cock. His hands were deep in her silky soft hair. "Oh…wait…I'm COMING!"

"Mmmmmm, Mmmmmmmm," Ms Americana moaned, sucking it all down without losing a drop. Then she licked his cock and balls clean and waited for the next man, baby blues glazed over and the most lusty look on her gorgeous face.

A moment later, Kid cried out as he popped his third wad deep inside her body.

Ms Americana was forced to her knees, hands handcuffed behind her back, knees wide. Cum was dripping off her heaving 38Gs and off her chin. Really, her inner thighs were slathered with dripping cum from all of the men that had received her joyous Christmas present.

"The unwrapping of this most delightful of Christmas presents hasn't been completed yet," Kid called. He paused to cup her face, then caress her blue-star-spangled mask. Ms Americana's baby blues were just starting to focus, as if the enormity of the moment was starting to sink into her sex-addled mind. "Time to end her too long and annoying crime fighting career, and start her new job as a STREETWALKER!"

Kid reached for her mask. The crowd gasped, and a purple clad figure streaked through them and tackled Kid.

"Lady Midnight!" someone cried. People started screaming and yelling.

"Halt in the name of the LAW!" Lady Midnight cried. She was about to execute the coup de grace to Kid, to knock him out cold so she could cuff him, but JJ Rod charged her. So she had to roll away, and into a defensive stance. Instead of attacking her, though, JJ grabbed Kid by the collar and hefted him to his feet. Then they looked around, noticed that everyone else ran away, so ran away too. "Damn! They got away."

The super curvaceous, purple clad super heroine looked around, standing in a classic super heroine pose, and shook her head woefully. She sooo wanted a good fight, to dispel all the Christmas rush stress she had pent up from work.

"Cowards," she muttered, scowling. Then she looked her friend and colleague over. Ms Americana just knelt there, sitting back on her feet, head lolling around. She looked exhausted, defeated and utterly debauched with all that stinky, slimy cum coating her spectacular body. "Are you all right, Honey?"

"Ha, yeah. I'm more than all right," Ms Americana mumbled, sounding almost drunk. Then her beautiful face darkened, and she shivered violently. "I'm cold."

"Ah, yes, without your power belt your body cannot take these frigid temperatures," Lady Midnight said. "Come on, I'll get you cleaned up and then take you home."

"Power belt?" Ms Americana said, teetering atop her five inch stiletto boots when Lady Midnight pulled her up. "It's gone? Where?"

"Those nasty boys took it, I guess," her savior said. "Do you have another?"

"Just one more," she said. "Damn. I've lost two in two weeks. This is so embarrassing."

"I know. Been there. Done that," Lady Midnight said, grimacing. "Just part of the job. Come on, I'll take you to my condo so you can shower."

# # #

"Stupid traffic," Brenda Wade growled as she walked briskly towards Wade Towers. It was cold, with a light drizzle. Fit her mood perfectly. "Lousy weather."

"Ms Wade! Could you spare a dollar?" a homeless man rasped out. He had to be eighty if he was a day. His hair was mostly gone, just filthy gray wisps flying in all directions in the bitter Wintry wind. The only things dirtier than his hair were his face and clothes. She didn't even want to think how dirty his body was underneath that threadbare mockery of clothing. "I haven't eaten in two days, ma'am."

"Then you shouldn't have spent all of your money on booze, dufus," Brenda snarled, baby blues flashing. She waved her hand before her face. "Goddess protect, when is the last time you BATHED? Worse, the stench of booze is all consuming, sucking the air from my lungs. How much do you spill on yourself?"

He just gawked at her. All the homeless knew who the kind hearts were, who would give a few dollars, and who wouldn't. Brenda had always been one of the most generous souls. Not that day, though.

"But, Ms Wade, it's Christmas Eve…"

"Bah! No excuse, bozo. Get a job. And a bath," she said, and kicked him in the shin. When he bent over, clutching his injured leg, she kicked him in the butt and sent him sprawling on the sidewalk. Everyone stopped to gawk at her, which really pissed her off. <Great!> she thought. <Now I'm the bad guy. Idiots!>

Brenda strode away in a huff. She had a full day of last minute meetings, before the staff took the rest of the month off for the holidays. Normally, she enjoyed that week of vacation, since she could spend the entire time as Ms Americana, kicking butt and taking names. But after the previous night's little…setback…she wasn't looking forward to the taunts from the street people that always followed such humiliating setbacks.

None of the meetings did a bit of good. Everyone was too full of the damned holiday spirit, so damn HAPPY, that they all failed to meet expectations. At five that evening, at the end of the last project meeting, Brenda snapped.

"Really? Really?" she said, standing up slowly to loom over the startled staff. "Have you been too busy chatting each other up to do your jobs? Have you been too busy planning your Christmas vacations to finish a single project? Are you too distracted to do your damn JOBS?"

"Um, but Ms Wade, it's Christmas," Bill Burton said.

"No, Mr. Burton. Tomorrow is Christmas," Brenda sneered, eyes narrowing dangerously. "And tomorrow at eight AM sharp, you will all report to work. You WILL complete at least the Aries Project tomorrow, and will not go home until you do. I'll come in at five sharp, and we'll have the meeting where you show me you completed it. Any questions? I didn't think so."

With that, Brenda marched out.

Exhausted and de-powered, Brenda decided to spend the first Christmas Eve night in years at home. After getting fucked for over three hours, though, it would be a day or two before her curvaceous, oversexed body built up enough sexual frustrations to energize her last power belt.

So, after the household staff departed at eight, after dinner, she slipped into a crimson nightie and robe, got a big bowl of ice cream and climbed into bed to watch a Sex in the City marathon. Who didn't love that show? The clothes were great, and the shoes!...Hello Lover. Well, it was her favorite show.

"Oooh, baby," Brenda cooed, checking the cable movie on-screen guide. "A Charles Bronson marathon is on later tonight! Wahoo, vigilante justice meted out proper! If only it was CHARLENE Bronson doing it. Hahaha!"

Ms Americana was never one to kill. She even opposed the death penalty. But after the previous night in Sugar Town, where they gang raped her into humiliating la-la land, turned her into a sex crazed WHORE for three hours, and fucked her over and over and over ad nauseam. Well, she was feeling a bit differently, that's all.

The super sexy billionaire business woman was more exhausted than she knew. Before she even finished her ice cream, the statuesque beauty fell into fitful sleep.

"Whose your daddy! Wahoo! Ride 'em Cowgirl," a deep male voice boomed.

"What the…?!?" Brenda cried, leaping out of bed, heart hammering. She saw light coming from under her bedroom door. The TV was strangely off. She glanced out her clock, seeing it as only ten at night. The raven-maned beauty in her crimson nightie marched to the door and flung it open. "What is going on out…here?"

Brenda just stood and gawked. The hallway was gone, replaced by a great chamber. The room looked like a Christmas decorated brothel parlor. There were a dozen pretty, young, scantily clad beauties, with a seven foot tall, red velvet suited PIMP on a throne. The white bearded pimp looked cheerful and lusty. He wore a ton of jewelry, rings on every finger, and clutched a pimp cup she knew was filled with egg nog.

"Ah, Brenda, there you are," the pimp boomed. "Come, sit on my lap, babe."

"No! You're a pimp, and you'd take unfair advantage of me in my scanty attire and vulnerable situation," Brenda said, feeling fear fill her breast. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

"Why, I'm the Ghost Pimp of Christmas Past!" he cried joyfully.

"All past?"

"Your past, Brenda," he said, and winked at her. "And what a past you have with pimps at Christmas time, too."

Brenda felt her face heating up. Her heart rate ramped up, too. Oh, she had a past with pimps. A very sordid past, too. No doubt about it. That was the main reason she so LOATHED them.

"Okay," she said, frowning. "Guess I'm dreaming, huh? Must've been that ice cream. I know better than to eat diary just before bed." She looked up at the Christmas pimp, "I'm a little lactose intolerant."

"Hahahaha! Yes you are! But this isn't the ice cream, Brenda. I am but the first of three ghosts that will visit you this Christmas Eve," he said. He reached down between his legs, scratched his obviously hard cock through the red velvet pants, and then gave it a few hard strokes that really sent Brenda's blood pressure skyrocketing. "We're going to try to save your cynical soul, my dear. Before you become another bitter static in the hallowed annals of super heroine history, before you descend into Darkness."

"What? Me? Darkness?" she cried. "I beg your pardon! I have you know that I am…"

"Yeah, yeah, Ms Americana, the Queen of Justice, the Premier super heroine in the country, if not the whole world," he said, waving that away. "Yeah, I know. You aren't my first 'premier' super heroine."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm here to help you, Ms Brenda Wade," the Ghost Pimp of Christmas Past said cheerfully.

"Like I'm supposed to believe a pimp, even a GHOST PIMP, cares what happens to me?"

"Ah, pimps love you, Ms Americana," he said. "They all want your body, for play and profit. As a group, we have a vest interest in your success."

"Huh?"

"Besides, I work for the Big Guy now," he said, glancing up reverently. "So, let's get this party started."

"Oh, I don't think so," Brenda said, shaking her head.

"And that is why I'm here," he said, and clapped his huge hands.

Brenda was lifted up and up and over to his broad lap. As she flew to him, her clothes melted away and her mile long legs spread wide. A second later, as she neared, his cock popped up and she landed upon it. Perfect landing.

"OOooogggggghhhhhh," she cried upon penetration. Then she slowly slid down that monster ghost cock. It was so damn thick and long. It felt like it was ripping her in half, and it felt GLORIOUS.

"Ride me, Ms Americana, ride me like only a super heroine can!"

Without thought, Brenda started humping him, started gyrating her well rounded hips, started bouncing up and down his long, thick cock. Everything started to spin, to turn to mist around her. She felt the cold wind, and was that snow? But mostly, she felt that throbbing cock up her cunt.

"Ooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh!" she heard herself moan, and realized it was coming from a different mouth, too. Opening her baby blues, she found herself watching a familiar scene. "Oh crap, Christmas of 1995!"

Ms Americana had just been defeated by a sucker punch from JJ Rod. It was that young, teenage pimp's first Christmas on the mean streets of Sugar Town, and his first encounter with Ms Americana. It was Ms Americana's very first defeat and capture.

While she was dazed from the punch, he pulled off her power belt and tossed it aside. Then with a big fist deep in her hair, he bent the statuesque twenty year old super heroine backwards, and used his free hand to slowly strip her.

"Unhand me you fiend!" she cried, her luscious body at his tender mercies. "If you don't let me go, I'll have to ….mmmmgggghhh!"

JJ Rod ended her protests with a lusty kiss, claiming her full red lips without mercy. Brenda felt her own heart rate rise as JJ's hands stripped her, fondled her, explored every nook and cranny, until he finally found her snatch. Brenda remembered his hands, his lips, his daring tongue like it was yesterday. She watched her twenty year old body reacting, responding, saw her nipples harden and rise, saw her pussy grow damp, then wet. Watched her back arch, and heard her long, low groan of wanton pleasure. All the while, Brenda's body, still bouncing on the ghost pimp's unholy cock, responded just like it did so many years before.

Brenda remembered JJ masturbating her for a good half hour or more, but as she watched it only took him about five minutes to force a climax off her. Was it really that fast? Did she really respond so fast, so profoundly? Even as she silently asked herself those questions, she knew it was true.

"It's not my fault," Brenda said in a baby voice, looking up into the Christmas Pimp's face, with her big soulful blue eyes. "I have the Aphrodite gene. There's a blessing that comes with it, but also a curse."

"Like Aphrodite Herself, you are the epitome of sex and desire. You are lust personified. You are Woman, in all her sexual glory," the ghost pimp said, nodding.

"I can't help but respond to stimulation," she said.

She turned her eyes back on the erotic scene from years and years earlier. JJ had her naked, laying on the cold pavement. Her red booted legs were spread wide, her arms around him and clutching at his broad back. Breathless, Ms Americana locked eyes with the young pimp as he pushed his giant black cock into her pussy.

"You are a virgin?"

"Yes."

JJ Rod thrust hard, pushed most of his thick cock into her curvaceous body as she gasped, back arching. "Not any more. You're a woman now."

Brenda watched with bated breath as the pimp fucked her stupid, broke he will, and TAMED her. She climaxed every time her twenty year old self climaxed, relived that moment again.

"Merry Christmas, Ms Americana," JJ said. He stood up, and walked away. About ten feet away, he turned back, "It's Christmas, so this one time I'll give you this present. Next time, though, no mercy."

Suddenly, Brenda was lifted off the ghost pimp's cock, spun around so her back was to him, and then dropped down in his cock again. Only this time his huge cock went up her ass. She climaxed immediately, five times, before she settled down and looked around again.

New scene. The Palace. Christmas 2001.

"Uuuggghhh," Ms Americana groaned. Her wrists were bound to her elbows, pulling her arms painfully back. It was a supremely helpless feeling to be tied like that. her top and bottoms were gone, never to be seen again. Her first and only power belt was locked in King Pimp's safe. King Pimp was laying on the bed in her ROOM in the Palace, and she was straddling his waist. His huge cock was sliding up into her pussy. "Too big! Stop! You're hurting me!"

He didn’t stop, and Brenda felt that cock moving up her twat, even as her younger self experienced it, even as the ghost pimp corn-holed her. He fucked her hard. Harder than any man ever had before, or since. It took him all of five minutes to climax her, and within a few more she was tamed.

"I never could resist him," Brenda groaned, head hanging low.

"He is your natural master," the Ghost Pimp of Christmas Past said. "You will never know utter joy, happiness and bliss until you finally submit to his will and desires."

"I have to be his whore?"

"Yes."

"No! I can't. I'm the Queen of Justice," she cried. "I am Ms Americana!"

Broken. Tamed. Utterly shamed, Ms Americana submitted to King Pimp's will before Brenda's eyes. She remembered every detail of that night, so long ago.

"Give me your mask," he commanded.

She begged him to spare her. And, he did. But said she would have to give it to him eventually.

"If I let you keep your mask, your Great Secret, then you must swear on your honor to serve me. Serve me as a hooker. A whore," King Pimp demanded.

"I will," Ms Americana said, sobbing. "I am a hooker now. Your hooker."

Suddenly Ms Americana's life within The Palace whizzed by them. All of the men, the johns, day in and day out. Five months, two weeks, four days, Ms Americana worked her tail off on the Super Heroine Floor of the Palace. She quickly became King Pimp's top earning girl, and felt great pride in that fact, too. As a superior woman, she just couldn't be SECOND to any other girl. She absolutely had to be the Palace's top girl. And she was, for that five months plus.

If she was honest with herself, it was the happiest time of her life.

"You promised to be his, to serve," the ghost pimp said. "What happened?"

"Got Gal rescued me," she said. "I struggled with it. Should I return, since I did promise on my honor? But my friends convinced me that my honor was intact, since I didn't escape. I was rescued, so I didn't break my word."

"A shaky technicality."

"It's all I had," she whispered, feeling shame and unable to look up at the ghost.

Suddenly, Brenda found herself back in her own bed, ice cream bowl overturned and melted ice cream all in her expensive sheets.

"Eww!" she cried, sliding out of bed and getting sticky ice cream all over her bare, shapely, tan legs. Remembering the Ghost Pimp of Christmas Past, she rushed to her door and flung it open. All she found was the dark hallway. "A dream! It was all a dream. Thank the Goddess!"

She returned inside her room, cleaned up and changed the sheets. Then she clicked off the TV and snuggled down to sleep. It was midnight, after all, and she had to go to work the next day.

"Woo-hoo, mistletoe!" a rich, feminine voice called.

Brenda opened her eyes to find the lights on, Christmas decorations everywhere, and a gorgeous blonde leaning over her. The blonde was holding a sprig of mistletoe over Brenda's face. As soon as she saw that Brenda understood what it was, and what it meant, the beautiful woman bend down and locked lips with the billionairess.

"Mmmmmm," Brenda groaned, enjoying the feel of the woman's warm, firm glossy lips.

"Mmmghgh, who are you?" Brenda said, when the kiss ended. She looked the woman over. The blonde was as tall as herself, with the kind of spectacular body only women with the Aphrodite gene possessed. Her eyes were Kelly Green, and seemed to literally sparkle. Her statuesque body was sheathed in a red velvet mini dress that hugged every curve of her body. She wore a Santa hat, dark hose and black calf boots. "Or, should I say, what are you?"

"Ha! You're not as dumb as most super heroines," she said. "Figured it out right away, did you? Well, I'm the Ghost Pimp of Christmas Present."

"Pimp? Don't you mean Madam?"

"No, I meant pimp," she said, and winked with wicked delight.

"Okay. Well, I suppose you are here to show me my present problems with pimps," Brenda said. She gave the hot ghost chick a slow head to toe to head look. Rolled her eyes, before looking the ghost dead on. "I don't need it. I know how I stand with pimps. We hate each other. And I don't need to relive last night, when dozens of men, pimps included, reamed my ass out royally."

"Well, they also reamed out your pussy, and your mouth and titty fucked you, spraying hot cum all in your face, hair and …."

"I KNOW!" she cried. Baby blues narrowed. "I don't require your services, so why don't you wiggle that hot little ghost ass out of here and leave me alone."

"No can do, super ho," the ghost said, smirking. "Shall we go?"

"No."

"Great!"

And their surroundings instantly changed. Suddenly, they were standing atop an office building at the edge of Sugar Town. Brenda heard grunts coming from the dark alley below them. Feminine grunts.

"That's a good girl," Kid Rotten's voice said softly. "Yeah, you're liking that, aren't you, Midnight Slut."

Suddenly, Brenda's eyes could penetrate the darkness. She gasped to see Lady Midnight stripped down to mask, boots and gloves. She was bent over a 55 gallon drum, wrists bound and tied to the back of her neck. Brenda never saw anyone bound like that before. Her purple thigh booted feet were kicking as Kid fucked her up her shapely brown ass.

Like before, while witnessing her own past captures and rapes, Brenda felt everything Lady Midnight felt. Kid's cock reaming out the beautiful African American super heroine's ass, was felt exactly the same by Brenda. She gasped and groaned. Then the beautiful blonde Ghost Pimp moved up behind Brenda, and started fondling her 38Gs, while massaging her engorged, hypersensitive clit at the same time.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee! I am tamed! Tamed!" Lady Midnight cried. "Oh Goddess, I am tamed."

"Aaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiigggggggggghhhhhhh!" Brenda cried, writhing in the ghost girl's arms.

"You saved Americana, Midnight Whore, but no one is going to save you," Kid said, and pulled off her mask. "Assistant DA Angela Grear? Holy shit, this is GREAT!"

"Nooooooo!"

"Great Liberty!" Brenda cried. And the scene changed. Azure Angel is sucking a JJ Rod's cock, in the same alley Ms Americana was captured by him way back when. "What happened to Lady Midnight? Is what you show me tonight what is really happening, right now, or what MIGHT happen?"

"Look, isn't that the pimp that captured you the first time, on that Christmas Eve night so long ago?"

"Yes, JJ deflowered me that night."

"And then he let you go."

"Yes."

"Thanks for the Christmas present, Azure Angel," JJ Rod said, zipping up and walking away. "Merry Christmas."

"What? He did it again?" Brenda said.

"Christmas is the only time he shows any mercy," the ghost said. "But Christmas brings out the best in all of us. Some more than others."

"He's still a stinking, violent, misogynistic pimp," Brenda snarled. "He and Kid fucked me stupid ten times over last night, and I know that they didn't plan to release me."

"That's because Kid won the lottery for you. JJ might have let you go," the ghost said. "Maybe not. We'll never know, will we?"

"Azure Angel's lucky."

"But that could've been YOU," she said "If you had gone out tonight, you would've crossed paths with JJ instead of Azure Angel. And you would have FALLEN to him, just like she did."

Suddenly, Brenda was transported to that scene that never happened. She and JJ are circling, trading insults, witty barbs and such. He suddenly lunged at her. She deftly sidestepped his attack, smashing a fist into the side of his head. JJ recovered quickly, backhanding Ms Americana brutally.

Brenda felt every blow as if it really struck home. Pain lanced through her, muddling her mind. She realized she was feeling that pain as if not wearing her power belt, and remembered she was still de-powered. She was fighting that vicious pimp as a regular Aphrodite woman, with more speed and strength than a normal woman, but still less than an experienced fighter like JJ Rob.

She gasped, seeing JJ moving in for the finishing blow. Then Ms Americana spun and connected with a brutal roundhouse. Yes, she's studied the martial arts since her first capture, just in case she was ever de-powered again. It served her well there, in that battle that never happened.

JJ fell straight back and didn’t move. Ms Americana held a defensive position for a long moment, then eased up to the unmoving pimp. She leaned over him…and his hand shot up and ripped off her top.

"Yikes!" Ms Americana cried.

"Aaiie!" Brenda cried, clutching at her own boobs.

JJ swept Ms Americana's legs out from under her. Brenda yelped when Ms Americana's head bounced on the concrete. JJ was instantly on her, fist and feet pounding. Within seconds the sexy super heroine was semi-conscious, completely limp.

Moments later, JJ Rod was between her legs and well mounted. While JJ fucked Ms Americana, Brenda felt his cock inside HER as well, driving her wild with lust and need, breaking her will to fight. Then the ghost blonde pimp moved up behind poor Brenda, waved and a giant peppermint cane striped strap-on materialized on her. She immediately mounted Brenda's butt, pushing deep into her aching sphincter.

"Uuuuuuuuuugggggggggghhhhhhh!" Brenda and Ms Americana cried out together.

Her statuesque body was afire. Need, lust, DESIRE filled her, consumed her, drove her crazy and refused to release her. Brenda was bucking in time with Ms Americana, their gorgeous bodies' moving in sync, mirroring each other. The ghost started groping Brenda exactly when, and how JJ groped Ms Americana.

"Yes, another very Merry Christmas to me, thanks to Ms Americana," JJ Rod cried out joyfully, filling Ms Americana's cunt up with hot cum. The ghost pulled out at the same time, and when JJ pulled Ms Americana to her knees, and made her start to lick and suck him clean, Brenda dropped to her knees and did the same to the Ghost hot, wet pussy. All the while, Brenda watched Ms Americana sucking off JJ Rod in her mind's eyes, and remembered what his cock felt and tasted like in her mouth, and wished it was her mouth around his dick and not the phantom Ms Americana's mouth. "You're the best, Ms A. No one sucks a dick quite like you."

Then he reached down to her face, cupped it a long second. Ms Americana and Brenda gasped, tensing up and expecting the worst. But he only ran a finger along the mask, then stepped back.

"Merry Christmas, Ms Americana," JJ said. "See you later."

"What?" Ms Americana said, feeling rage fill her suddenly. Brenda felt the rage too. Why was he NOT taking ownership of her? Did he not want her? "Bastard!"

Ms Americana leapt up, and kicked with all of her strength. She caught the startled pimp in the face, snapping his head to the side. He grunted, and fell straight back. His eyes were wide, disbelieving.

"I can't feel my feet! Oh God, you paralyzed me!"

And Brenda was back in her bedroom. Alone and trembling.

"Oh Goddess! Oh Goddess! What did I do? What did I do!"

"Brenda," a soft whispery voice called from outside her door. "Come to me."

A chill rolled down Brenda's back. She realized she was back in her red nightie.

"Brenda, come to me," that sinister voice whispered in the dark, from outside her bedroom door. Light was not seeping under the door. So the lights were not on out there. She didn’t like what that forebode.

"Brenda…"

"I'm coming," Brenda said. "Goddess, I'm a superior woman, a super heroine, so some creepy voice isn't going to spook me."

She glanced at her clock. Two o'clock in the morning. <Are they going to let me get any sleep tonight?>

Brenda took a deep, steadying breath, and opened the door.

"Eeks!" she cried, jumping back.

The phantom like creature slid into the room. He didn't so much walk, as hover and glide just off the floor. Of all the ghost pimps, he was the scariest of all. Indeed, he was the only scary one. The previous two were fun loving phantoms.

"I am the Ghost Pimp of Christmases to Come," he whispered. The ghost was about nine feet tall, enormously fat, and looked like an evil Santa, except all the red was instead Black, and the white was Gray. Instead of merry blue eyes, the ghost had burning red eyes. "Come, Brenda, let us see what your future Christmases hold in store for you."

"I don’t want to," Brenda said, feeling petulant. She caught herself pouting, and quickly regained her superior composure. "Goddess, you ghouls are discombobulating me."

"We're not ghouls," the ghost said. "Come."

Before she could respond, the scene around them changed.

"I hate it when you guys do that," she grumbled, looking around.

Sudden the lights came up. It was daytime. Sugar Town, in a back alley. Men were crowded around something, very excited and happy. They seemed to magically part before her as she walked toward the source of their pleasure.

"Great Liberty, it's Dooms Day!" Brenda cried.

Before her was their worst nightmare. Every single super heroine in Delta City was captured. They all hung in line against a wall, their naked bodies hung by their wrists. Ms Americana was there. Green Spectre. Lady Midnight. Amazing Babe. Everyone. At first she thought they were all dead, but them Ms Americana stirred, lifting her head with difficulty.

"You will pay for this," she whispered hoarsely. Brenda instantly knew Ms Americana's voice was ravaged from so much screaming. She'd been captured and raped until she passed out. All of them had suffered the same fate.

"Hey, the Mighty Ms Christmas Present wishes to grace us with her slightly slanted sense of humor. She's a funny girl," Kid Rotten said, reaching up to tweak a nipple. "Shall we start the unmasking? Then we can have the auction."

Ms Americana came alive then. She struggled, whipping her head back and forth, trying in vain to save herself. But she was weak, debauched and bound to helplessness, so Kid won. Everyone knew he would.

"Holy smoke, Brenda Wade is Ms Americana? Hahahaha! Another Holier-than-thou goodie-two-shoe busybody DOWN." Kid cried joyously. Then he went down the line, ripping the masks off all the other heroines. "Angela Grear! Axanna Morgan! Tanya O'Donnel!" And so on. Well, some of the faces were not recognizable, like Azure Angel and Champion Girl. But they took lots and lots of before and after unmasking pictures. "Our victory over the Delta City super heroines is complete, and very, very FINAL."

Brenda watched as first their costumes were auctioned off a piece at a time. Every little thing was sold, too. Then the women themselves were sold, mostly to the big whore houses and white slavers. Ms Americana and Champion Girl both were bought by King Pimp.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" JJ Rod said immediately after the auction. He shook his head woefully. "You never gave us pimps a single break, ever. Not even on Christmas. That really pissed us off, and we see where that got you. Well, you got what you so richly deserved, Ms Americana. Merry Christmas."

After that, Ms Americana was taken by her new master, King Pimp. He and his boys passed the two super heroines around in the ride back to the Palace. Once there, the thoroughly debauched and tamed super heroines went to work as brothel whores without struggle or argument. They worked hard until late, when the customers dried up, and the staff Christmas Party started. Well, it was more like a Christmas Orgy, where they were passed around by one and all, men and women.

Everything that was done to Ms Americana, Brenda felt as if it was happening to her, just like before. They soon had her writhing, swooning, falling to her knees. She screamed an orgasm every time phantom Ms Americana did. But unlike with Past and Present, Future Ghost Pimp never touched her. The orgy lasted for hours.

"This is horrible!" Brenda cried. "What about the police?"

They were instantly elsewhere. Uniformed cops and suited detectives were all standing around and celebrating. She thought it was a Christmas Party at first.

"A Toast! To the EX-Ms Americana!" Vice Chief Wessel said. "Good Riddance!"

They cheered and drank. They toasted their pleasure at the fall of each and every super heroine. Brenda heard, "About time!" "Stuck up super bitches, got what they deserved!" "Got what they were BEGGING for!" "Ball busting bitches, won't miss them at all."

"Oh my Goddess, they hate us?"

"You treat them like scum, barely better than the criminals on the street," the Ghost Pimp whispered spookily.

"Ghost Pimp, is this future written in stone? Will that be my fate, to lead my friends to their doom on a cold Christmas Day?"

"This is only one of many possible futures, Ms Americana. But this is the one you are currently on track for," he whispered. "Your defeat, and subsequent employment as a brothel whore, will so dispirit you legions of fans, that those young women will not have the will power to resist vicious men in their future. They will allow themselves to be used and abused, feeling they deserve it, feeling it is their rightful place."

Suddenly, they were in a different place yet again. Outside again. For the first time, Brenda felt the cold. Why wasn't the ghost protecting her against it now? But the ghost only pointed into a dark alley.

"What's in there?" He just pointed. "Is it dangerous?" Nothing. "I'm afraid." He pointed at the alley.

Taking a deep breath. "Okay, Ghost Pimp, I'm going. I'm a big girl. I can take whatever you can dish out."

Arms wrapped around herself, shivering from the cold, Brenda walked into the alley. And promptly stumbled over something on the ground.

"What the…?" she said, bending to get a better look at what she tripped over. It was a bundle of clothes. No, wait… "A body!"

A light appeared, a single beam that lit the face. Brenda gasped.

"That homeless bum, from this morning," she said, horrified. "He…he was … he asked…."

She remembered it all. And her unforgivable reaction. Shamed filled her.

That staggered Brenda. "Wh-what must I do to fix this?"

"Look deep within yourself," he said. "Dig deep."

And Brenda found herself back in her own bedroom. Alone.

Brenda staggered into her bathroom. She looked herself in the mirror a long moment, and dug deep. She could not allow any of that possible future happen. And she had to act now. That's what super heroines did, acted immediately with the appropriate response. So she quickly applied her makeup, and headed to her secret room.

In less that fifteen minutes Ms Americana was speeding down the road. She made a few calls as she drove, calling as Brenda Wade. She headed straight for downtown. Straight for that alley. And found him.

"Oh thank the Goddess!" Ms Americana cried, seeing him alive, but miserably cold. "My friend, why are you out on a bitter night like this? It's Christmas!"

"It's never Christmas for some of us, Ms Americana."

"Well, it's Christmas for you. Come with me," Ms Americana said. She led the homeless straight to the best hotel in downtown. Despite hesitation by the night clerk, she rented him a room for a week, all expenses paid. "My friend wants a hot meal immediately."

Ms Americana took the homeless man up to his room. She called the concierge, and ordered a selection of new clothes sent up first thing on December 26th. But asked for pajamas and a robe for now. By that time the food arrived, and her new friend dug in with gusto.

"What's your name, Honey?" Ms Americana asked while he stuffed his face.

"Horace, ma'am."

They discussed his life, how he got there, what it was like. When he was full, she stood up and looked him over with distaste. He was ancient, with just wisps of filthy white hair, watery blue eyes, skinny as can be.

"Those clothes are disgusting," she said. She indicated the robe and pajamas that arrived during his meal. "But before you change into those, you need a bath."

"Bath? Me?" he said. "Oh no, I'm fine."

Ms Americana asked, begged and wheedled Horace, but he didn't want to even take off his old, stinking clothes. So she dug deep, and came up with a solution.

"What if I joined you in the shower?"

"Huh? What?" Horace said. She saw his crotch develop a bulge. "Oh, you're joking."

"No, I'm not," Ms Americana said, and removed her top. His eyes bugged out as he gawked, unable to pull them away for her perfect pair. "Close your mouth, Horace." She said, chuckling. She removed her gloves next, then her choker. "Aren't you going to join me?"

"I…I don't…I…Oh….I mean, Ms Americana, I'm afraid I might …DO something inappropriate," he said, shame-faced.

"Don't worry about that, Horace. I fully INTEND to do something inappropriate with you," Ms Americana said, winked at him and removed her bottoms. Then she took off her boots, winked again and headed for the shower. "I'm waiting."

Ms Americana turned on the shower. It was a big shower stall, too. She was pleased. By the time the water temperature was right, she heard something behind her. It was Horace, staring at her bare ass. He was naked, and dirtier than she imagined. And he had a painful looking hard-on.

"Looks like my Big Daddy is ready for his shower," Ms Americana purred, baby blues full of sexy mischief. She reached down and stroked his cock, wrapping perfectly manicured hands around his hot shaft. "He's definitely ready for ME."

"Oh my…oh my…I think I'm going to come," he said breathlessly.

"Really? Hmm, let me take care of that," she said, kneeling before him. Ignoring the stench, she rolled her tongue around the dick head, then sucked him in deep. While her head bobbed up and down his shaft, her long red nails raked across his buttocks. "MMmmggghhh."

"Oh my, where did you learn to do that?"

"MMmggh," she groaned. "King Pimp trained me."

"You went to a pimp for sex training?"

"No, he captured me," she admitted. "I worked for him for quite a while."

Ms Americana licked, nibbled and kissed her way down one side of his cock, then licked and sucked his balls clean, then worked her way back up his shaft on the other side. Gobbling him down, the Queen of Justice gave Horace deep throat.

"Aaaggghhh!" Horace cried, emptying his wad deep in Ms Americana's mouth.

"Mmmmggghhh," Ms Americana groaned, also climaxing. Something about men coming inside her just pushed the oversexed super heroine over the top. She couldn't help herself. "Mmm, good boy. Now, let's get showered, nice and clean, and retire to the bed."

"There's more?"

"Lot's and lot's more."

Ms Americana and Horace took turns lathering each other up. Mostly Horace just lathered up her tits, ass and pussy but she didn't mind. She was already clean anyway. But she had to lather him up several times, scrubbing hard to get all the grit and grime that built up over decades of not bathing. But eventually he was clean as a newborn baby, and just as pink.

"Look at you, all nice and clean," Ms Americana said, baby blues sparkling. "Now, let's get in bed and do something really DIRTY."

Horace was as giddy as a school boy about to lose is virginity. He ran and jumped into bed and waited for her. She sauntered in sensuously, and crawled up over him. Then she leaned into a deep, passionate kiss. His cock rose up, and so did his hands. Horace started fondling her dangling, swaying 38Gs. He wasn't very good, so she taught him how to take care of a woman's boobs.

"Now, let's take a ride to Christmas Town!" Ms Americana said, and guided his erect dick up to her aching twat. She eased down on it, then upon penetration she gasped. "Oh, yes. This always feels so damn good."

The super sexy Queen of Justice was soon bouncing joyfully up and down Horace's cock. He played with her bouncing tits with the same joy. They spent the next hour in bed, and she ensured he had her in every orifice of her spectacular body. She left him smiling wide, and snoozing.

Returning to her car, Ms Americana fixed her makeup and hair. Showers and sex messed up both. Then she was ready. Driving around, she passed all the homeless shelters and was pleased to see all the trucks parked there, full of clothes and sundry for the homeless, all of what Brenda Wade ordered sent immediately to them. So that done, Ms Americana headed for Sugar Town.

The streets were mostly deserted at that hour. A few whores hung on, getting the late customers. Mostly crack whores. But by that hour the sex trade went indoors to the 24-hour brothels like the Palace. You always got a better grade of hooker in the Palace.

Ms Americana drove up to the Palace. She went up to the front door, and opened it. But didn't go inside.

"Tell King Pimp I want to speak with him in my car out front!"

And she returned to her car. She only had to wait fifteen minutes before Delta City's premier pimp came out. Came out warily, looking all around. She rolled down the passenger window, and crooked a finger at him. "Get in."

"Damn, girl, what are you up to?" King Pimp said, sliding into the passenger side of the sports car.

"Just spreading Christmas Cheer," Ms Americana said. "How's business?"

"Great. It always spikes during the holidays," he said. "Speaking on spikes, nice boots."

"Really? You like them?"

"Oh yeah. Very sexy. Those are Fuck Me Boots."

"Hmm, I know," she said, smiling as she looked down at the bright red boots, with the white strip and gold star. "I have a pair with six inch heels, too. I might wear them for you some day. Maybe next Christmas."

King Pimp was shocked. She laughed.

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

"Christmas truce," she said. "And to give you my Christmas present."

"I'm game for a holiday truce," he said. "Through New Years?"

"Agreed," she said. "Now, do you want your present?"

"Sure."

Ms Americana reached over and unzipped the notorious pimp. She locked eyes with him as she pulled out his cock, already starting to rise up and stiffen.

"Merry Christmas, Anthony Patrick," Ms Americana said, and leaned over and kissed his dick head. Kissed in long and deep. "Oh, and thank you for teaching me how to do this right."

The super sexy super heroine proceeded to give the infamous pimp the best head he had ever received. She put all of her passion, all of her needs and desires, into that blow job. He pulled off her top and fondled her like a woman deserved to be fondled. Soon the windows all fogged up, and their combined moans and groans drifted up to the doorman. But she was good, and he didn’t last too long.

"Thanks," King Pimp said, opening the door after she stuffed his cock back into his pants. He handed her the costume top. His bouncers and doorman, and a couple whores were at the door gawking at them. He waited while she used the rearview mirror to reapply her lost lipstick, then start to stuff her 38Gs back into her top. "If you come upstairs with me, I'll give you a Christmas present."

"Ha! I bet you would. And it is tempting, but I have places to be, people to please," she said.

"I'm not the only one getting a Christmas present?"

"No."

"Now I'm really turned on."

She turned on the engine, and the defroster to clear the windshield.

"Are you ever not turned on?" Ms Americana said.

"True. So, we have a truce?"

"Yes. Through New Years Day, then it's back to normal day-to-day operations."

"Well, then, it's been fun, Ms Americana. We'll have to do this again."

She winked at him. "If I survive to next Christmas, you never know what might happen."

"Really?"

"Hey, I'm filled with the Christmas Spirit, and all I want to do is give, give, give until it hurts," the vivacious vigilante said, smiling seductively at the astonished pimp. "Gotta go. Bye-bye."

Ms Americana cruised around Sugar Town, finding pimps and giving blow jobs. She even did a little girl-on-girl on the hood of her car with a blonde and redheaded hooker, for Kid Rotten's viewing pleasure. All morning long she gave her "Christmas presents" to the Sugar Town pimps. Then just after noon, she spotted the pimp she most wanted to visit.

"Hello, JJ Rod," Ms Americana said, pulling up and rolling down her window. "How's it hanging?"

"Long and hard, Ms Americana, like every day," he said, watching her warily. "The grapevine says that you are driving around and giving BJs to pimps, pushers and a few common johns."

"Hey, I'm a giving kind of girl," she said, and opened her door. Stepping out, she struck a particularly provocative super heroine pose. JJ gulped, his eye roamed up and down her spectacular body several times. "See something you like?"

"Oh yes."

"Nothing you've never had before," she said. "In fact, you've had your way with my hot body a few times." She smiled seductively. "And you let me go a few times, when you didn't have to." Ms Americana stepped up close, pressed her 38Gs into his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I really do appreciate that."

"Am I about to get one of your famous Christmas presents?" JJ Rod said, wrapping his arms around her.

"Yes, you are about to get everything," she said, and kissed him passionately. "But you have to make a choice. I'm only giving you a choice in Christmas presents this year."

"What are my choices?"

"You can take me up to a room, and fuck me all day and night long," she said. "Every way imaginable, every orifice, ANY sex act you want, I will joyful do to you."

"Wow!"

"Or, I will work all day and night for you. I will prostitute myself for you," she said. "Right on this corner, in that hooker hotel behind you, I will fuck for you, and make you lots and lots of money. Until the wee hours tonight." She kissed him again. "So, what's it going to me -- prostitution or ME."

"I'm a dedicated, born pimp, but I cannot pass up an all day, all night sex fest with Ms Americana!" JJ said, and kissed her hard and demanding. "Let's go."

"Good choice," Ms Americana said as he took her by the hand and headed for the nearest hooker hotel. As they approached the door, she turned and waved at all the gawking street people. "Merry Christmas, and a fucking great New Year!"

THE END