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

Ms Americana is the creation of Mr. X.

Please direct all comments and feedback to dark_one@live.com.

MS AMERICANA: SANTA CHORO

By Dark One

"Ooooo," Brenda gasped in her sleep, enveloped in a passionate dream about a faceless hunk of a man. "Do it again."

Just as the faceless hunk spread her long, satiny legs again, he opened his mouth to speak and a clattering sound emerged. Then a dull "thunk."

Brenda Wade sat up in her overlarge bed, unhappily all alone.

"Damn those dreams," she gasped, reaching down to touch her wet pussy. "Dear Lord, I need a man badly."

But that was out of the question. Her strength was directly tied to her pent up sexual frustration. The power belt tapped into that "power" and super powered her body. As Ms Americana, her strength and physical prowess was multiplied by ten when wearing the power belt. So, she wasn't terribly concerned by the dream. Such dreams stoked her sexual frustration and ensured her strength and power as Ms Americana. And she would need them tomorrow.

It was Christmas Eve night. Very late, too. First thing tomorrow morning, Ms Americana was expected to start visiting orphanages and the Children's Wards of all the city's hospitals. She would hand out presents, generously donated by Brenda Wade and other rich philanthropists of Delta City. And the children all wanted to see feats of strength, so building up more sexual frustration wasn't a bad thing.

THUNK!

Brenda was instantly alert. It came from downstairs. She tensed up, then relaxed with the thought of a poor servant staggering through the dark house, sleepily heading for the kitchen to get a midnight snack. With that thought, she snuggled down in her warm bed and closed her eyes.

Seconds later, her blue eyes snapped open.

"I'm alone in the house," she muttered angrily.

Brenda, as usual, had given the entire staff the holidays off. That meant someone was inside her mansion illegally. Probably a cat burglar stealing all the presents under the Christmas Tree for all her friends. So it was a very angry brunette that slipped out of bed.

"I'll teach that thieving bastard to rob me!" she growled and slipped on a crimson silk robe that barely fell low enough to cover his well rounded hiney.

Brenda marched out of her large bedroom, down the dark, ornate hallway of Wade Manor, and to the top of the grand stairs in the cavernous entry hall. The entry was dark and the door closed and locked. But from the top of the stairs she heard the soft sounds of someone in the living room.

Barefooted, Brenda didn't make a sound as she all but ran down the stairs. Seconds later, she burst into the living room. The twelve foot tree that dominated the room was lit with multicolored lights, bright amid the dark branches of the fake spruce. Light glittered off the colored glass Christmas balls and silvery icicles on the tree. The great fireplace was dark and cold, but there was still enough light from the tree to see the large man picking up presents and placing them in a large tube like thing coming through the window. Each time he placed a brightly wrapped present in the tube, it was sucked inside and she heard it bumping down its length and out the window.

A giant vacuum, she thought.

But the greatest shock was the man himself. Santa Claus.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I Santa Claus?" Brenda said angrily.

She balled up her fists and strode into the living room. Santa jumped and gawked at her. He continued to just stare openmouthed at her until she stopped before him, legs wide and fists balled up on her flaring hips.

"Ms Wade. I thought you were out of town snow skiing in Vail," he said.

That was the official word, at least. It was the only way she could bow out of any charity events and get her staff to all leave town. With Brenda Wade skiing, then no one would think twice about why she once again missed an event that Ms Americana was present. It just never occurred to her that the evil side of society would learn about it and try to rob her mansion.

"My flight leaves first thing tomorrow morning," she sneered. "Now put back all my property while I call the police."

Brenda couldn't very well thrash him. She wasn't a super heroine after all, but a very wealthy and generous heiress. It wouldn't look right. So she was forced to swallow her pride and call the police. But he quickly moved to the phone and pulled the cable out of the wall.

"You won't be calling anyone, Ms High and Mighty," he snarled. "And it's not Santa Claus, but Santa Chloro."

"What?" she said, then spied the brown bottle and wad of cloth next to it on the coffee table.

She stared at him a long moment, torn between fight and flight. There was no doubt in her mind that she could whip his ass, but good. But she knew the press would eat that story up. And the last thing she wanted was for people to start thinking of her as a fighter. The jump to super heroine crime fighter was too easy after that.

"You be a good girl and sit your sweet little ass down, Ms Wade," Santa Chloro said, picking up the bottle and wad of cloth.

"Good girl?" she said, feeling her face heating up until it was as red as the silk robe she almost wore. "How dare you speak to me like that!"

Brenda met him halfway. He didn't take her threat that seriously. So Brenda got in two good punches, that staggered Santa Chloro. But she wasn't wearing her power belt, so they were only the punches of a normal woman. Then when he shook his head and glared murderously at her, she cursed her own stupidity for not at least putting on the power belt under the robe.

Santa Chloro suddenly lunged at her. Brenda dodged to the side, but not before he got a firm grip on her thin silk robe. Seconds later the expensive crimson robe was ripped from her shapely body, leaving her exposed to his lusty eyes. He lunged at her again.

She slipped behind a couch, then raced to get the Christmas Tree between them. They spent the next five minutes moving around the tree, as Santa Chloro tried in vain to catch Brenda Wade. He quickly began to tire.

"You're pathetic," she said, with a look of contempt on her beautiful face. "I could run around this tree all night and not break a sweat. You're just old and pathetically out of shape, Santa Coronary."

"Well, girlie, I might be old and out of shape, but I'm clever," he said, huffing and puffing. "And I have elves to help me. Get her!"

Brenda whirled around, crouching in a fighting stance to fight off the aforementioned "elves." But there wasn't anyone there. A second later Santa Chloro plowed into her from behind. He clamped the chloroform soaked cloth over her mouth and nose before they hit the floor. Brenda, despite herself, was so shocked by his tactic and successful attack, gasped in a huge lung full of chloroform.

Hitting the floor, she expended her chloroform filled breath, then held it as she rolled and bucked, trying everything to get him off her back. But Santa wrapped his legs around her tiny waist and used both hands to hold the cloth to her face. Unfortunately for Brenda, all her exertions depleted the oxygen in her body and she quickly became desperate for more air.

She took another deep breath against her will.

"Mmphhhh!" she screamed into the cloth.

"I told you I was clever, not honest," Santa Chloro said.

Santa continued to hold on tightly. She tried to pull his hands away from her face, but she was getting to weak. So terribly weak. Her eyes became unfocused and she still needed air desperately. The chloroform wasn't allowing her to get enough oxygen to satisfy her body, even without all the struggling.

"Hhphh," she said weakening, now reaching back as far as she could to claw at his face.

All to no avail.

In horror, she felt her body succumbing to the chloroform. Her hands stopped responding and slowly fell to her sides. She took another deep breath, and darkness started creeping in from all sides. Santa loosened his grip on her, then released his leg clamp. But she was too weak to exploit that opportunity. Then holding the chloroform soaked cloth to her face, he slipped out from under her and pressed her back into the carpet.

"My, aren't you a pretty little girl," he said into her ear.

Brenda felt his free hand touch her breasts, pinching her nipples. Then as she fell into oblivion, his hand slid down across her firm belly and plunged deeply into her snatch.

Blackness took Brenda Wade.

When she woke, Brenda groaned and writhed, tugging vainly at her bonds. She was bound hand and foot, spread eagle on her own four poster bed. The lights were on and stabbed at her eyes. But she was alone.

"Dear Lord, he raped me!" she cried.

Her twat was sticky with cum, as was her face and 44DDs. Her pussy ached from over use, making her think he had to be on drugs, probably viagra, to so soundly fuck her like that.

"He must've spend hours fucking me," she growled as she put all her considerable strength into pulling free.

The ropes didn't break, but the bed did. The post her right arm was tied to broke and allowed her to reach her left wrist. Soon she was free and moving about her bedroom in a rage. Besides stealing all her Christmas presents downstairs and raping her, he looted her bedroom. Her jewelry box was gone, as well as other cherished trinkets and souvenirs.

"I'll rip his beard out and shove it up his fat ass!"

Brenda jumped in the shower, and rinsed off quickly. After toweling herself dry, she hurried to the hidden button and opened the secret chamber hiding all her Ms Americana accouterments. She started by putting on the red stiletto calf boots, then the star spangled bikini, blue choker with the star, then she donned her red lace-up gloves. After applying red lipstick, she put on her mask, held to her face with double-sided tape, and the golden tiara with the red star. Then last but not least, she donned her power belt.

"Ms Americana is about to teach Santa Chloro a severe lesson on how to treat a lady," she growled.

There was a secret passage, really a metal spiral stairway, down to another hidden chamber. That chamber held her Ms Americana's vehicles. It opened out onto her driveway.

In no time Ms Americana was cruising down her street, looking left and right. She didn't think Santa Chloro went far. She suspected he was hitting all the empty houses while their wealthy residents were out of town for the holidays. And she knew of several of her friends and neighbors that were out of town.

The third mansion she checked found a large panel truck back up to the living room window. She heard a low humming coming from the truck, and knew he was vacuuming this house clean of wealth, too. Also, to her surprise she spotted other men next to the truck. They were dressed in green elf costumes.

"So he does have elves helping him," she said, sapphire eyes flashing. "Well they'll all be cooling their heels in the slammer before the sun rises."

Ms Americana left her car on the street and sneaked up on the panel truck. There were two burly "elves" smoking cigarettes and speaking quietly. She appeared out of the darkness, and smashed their heads together before they got a grasp on what was happening.

There was another two elves inside the truck catching the loot as it came out of the tube and stacking it neatly in back. The truck was more than half full. She spotted a few of her things, too, including a very expensive painting and her jewelry box.

"You boys look busy," she said. "Time to take about a ten to twenty year break."

Ms Americana charged into the truck. She kicked the snot out of the first elf, then threw the second out the back. He didn't have time to regain his feet before she landed on him, and beat him unconscious.

"So much for Santa's little helpers," she said, smirking and dusting her gloved hands off.

Using some rope she found inside the truck, Ms Americana quickly tied all four elves up beside the truck. They wouldn't go anywhere until the police arrived to cart them away.

"Now time to find the Jolly Old Elf himself," she said.

She found the front door closed, but unlocked. So she eased inside and closed the door. Easing through the house, she quickly reached the living room, where Santa Chloro was busy stripping the walls and shelves of anything of value. He had a good eye, too. There were no presents under the tree, since the family was celebrating in Aspen this year. They took their presents with them.

"Busy night, Santa?" Ms Americana said as she strode into the room.

Once again, she was given the delightful sight of shock on his face. Only this time she was wearing her power belt and he wouldn't get away.

"Ms Americana! What are you doing here?"

"The question is, Santa, what are YOU doing here?"

"I'm...uh....I'm just....oh shit," Santa Chloro said. "You're done for, Ms Americana!"

"What? Haven't I been nice this year? Don't I get a present?"

"Present?" he said, with a puzzled look. Then a truly evil look of glee spread across his white bearded face. "No, you've been a naughty girl, Ms Americana. But I know a deserving mobster who deserves to receive YOU as a gift!"

Ms Americana scowled at him as they both strode toward each other. She couldn't believe he actually thought he could best her! She was Ms Americana. The nation's most revered, most celebrated super heroine. She was invincible, and she was no man's Christmas present!

"You will pay dearly for your crimes, Santa Chloro," she said.

Santa Chloro immediately tried to press a chloroform soaked rag into her face. She easily batted that aside and punched him once, twice in the ribs. He staggered back against the wall, and she leisurely followed after him, sure in her victory. Ms Americana was pleased to see he didn't look so arrogant anymore.

"Surrender," Ms Americana demanded. "I do not wish to beat Santa into submission, but I will if I have to."

"Ho, ho ho! You're crazy," he said, then threw a lamp at her.

The lamp struck her hard in the side, making her stagger back a step. But she was tough as nails and turned to meet his assaults. Santa wasn't prepared for her quick recovery. Ms Americana seized his right wrist, twisted until he dropped the chloroform soaked cloth, then shoved him hard against the wall. He hit with a grunt of pain and slid down to his big butt.

"Your crime spree is over, Santa," Ms Americana said, reaching for the phone. "You're going to spend the next ten to twenty years in the cooler, not the North Pole."

She grinned at her joke and lifted the phone to her ears. There was a dial tone.

"Get her, Black Peter!"

"I'm not falling for that one again," she said smugly. "I've already taken out your elves."

She pressed "9" and "1" and -- WHAM!

Someone crashed into her at a full tilt. Ms Americana was knocked to the floor, pulling the phone out of the wall as she fell. Before she could completely comprehend what had happened, a wet cloth was pressed over her mouth and nose. She understood that well enough..

Ms Americana instantly held her breath. She would not be chloroformed twice in one night. Besides, the man that clung to her back now was small. Tiny in fact. But he was strong and determined.

She struggled to her knees, with Black Peter still holding the cloth over her face and fighting to stay on her back. Ms Americana was more angry than worried. She was not winded, and could actually take a few breaths of chloroform it if came to that and still prevail. Black Peter was really more of a nuisance.

Then Santa Chloro smashed into them, placing his head square into her diaphragm and forcing all the wind out of her lungs. She was forced to take a deep breath of sickly sweet chloroform.

"Mmuuphhfff!" she screamed in rage.

She kicked Santa away, but he jumped right back on top of her. Her head was starting to spin from the chloroform. The second time was always worse than the first, for she knew what to expect. So with a growl, she regained her feet and reached down to pulled Black Peter's little feet from around her waist. Then Santa came up and wrapped his arms around her chest and held on tightly, his bearded face buried in her cleavage.

Pig! Ms Americana screamed into the rag, and got another whiff of chloroform.

She smashed both hands against Santa's ears and he cried out in pain, releasing her and staggering away. But she saw him quickly recovering, so knew he'd be back. She knew that she only had moments before she'd succumb to the chloroform again. And Santa Chloro had evil plans for her if she should fall into his unmerciful hands.

Ms Americana, in a fit of rage, reached back and seized Black Peter and ripped him off her back. In the same motion, she hurled him across the room to land on the couch. Standing straight to confront a now shocked Santa Chloro and his elf, she took a step back and sucked in huge gasps of breath. She felt her strength returning almost immediately. Then she noticed something truly frightening.

Black Peter, a slim man of about five three, clutched her power belt in his left hand.

Both hands immediately dropped to her suddenly unadorned waist.

"My belt! Give it back," she demanded.

"Her belt!" Santa Chloro cried, eyes filling with glee. "Ho ho ho! You've depowered the great and mighty Ms Americana, Black Peter!"

"I did?" he said, staring at the golden belt, then grinned fiercely. "Yes, I did!"

Ms Americana charged Black Peter. He squeaked and jumped over the couch. Santa slammed into her side before she reached the couch, taking her to the floor. His fist connected with her chin a second later, but she twisted free and kicked him in the face.

"Go get the other elves," Santa said. "This action figure is going to put up fight."

"Action figure, your fat ass," she growled as Black Peter vanished out of the room with her power belt. "I'm no one's toy, fat man."

When she tried to dart past him, to pursue Black Peter, Santa cut her off. Once again they struggled. He wasn't even trying to chloroform her now. He was just holding her back until his reinforcements arrived. And she knew they would be very angry reinforcements after she'd banged and bashed them up earlier.

Finally, she decided to take him down first. There was no stopping Black Peter from freeing the other elves. She figured he already had enough time to untie one or two, anyway, so she might as well take out their leader.

Suddenly, she charged straight at Santa Chloro. He dodged aside, then turned straight into her. Ducking his head, he tackled her in the middle of the living room. Ms Americana found him on top of her, her legs wide and him between him. The vision of him raping her earlier, while she was chloroformed unconscious, flashed before her mind's eyes.

"Perverted bastard!" she cried.

She punched him in the throat and rolled him over. A second later she was on top, her fist back to slam into his face. That's when the elves returned, screaming in rage. They swept over them like a tidal wave, washing her off Santa Chloro. Ms Americana found herself beneath a pile of angry elves, all hammering her body all over with hard fists. Too soon, the strength left her body and she collapsed with a whimper.

"We got her! We got Ms Americana!" Black Peter cried, jumping up and down as the two burliest elves manhandled her into a kneeling position. "Look, Santa, we caught her."

"That you did, my elves," Santa Chloro said, grinning wolfishly. "Now it's time for us all to get a Christmas present. Strip her."

First, they pulled off her top, and paused to watch as her 44DDs bounced and jiggled enticingly before their drooling faces. Then her bottoms were pulled off. She struggled, but the ass whipping they gave her left her weak and listless. And her power belt was gone, stripping her of super powers.

"You'll not get away with this, miscreants," she said, blue eyes blazing as Black Peter pulled off her tiara and put in on his own head. The others thought that real funny. "I will hunt you all down like the dogs you are."

"Now the mask," Santa Chloro said.

"NO!" she cried, struggling harder. "Not that. You can't unmask me. It's not allowed."

They all looked at each other, then started laughing. Then Santa himself stepped forward and reached out with both hands. She tried whipping her head back and forth, but another elf seized her head from behind, cupping her face under the chin and holding her head still against his belly.

"Let's take a look and see who this naughty girl really is," Santa Chloro said, seizing one side of her star spangled mask. He pulled, then pulled harder. It slowly pealed away from her beautiful face. They all stared at her a moment, then Santa's face lit up. "It's Brenda Wade! Ho ho ho! You remember her, two houses back she jumped me. Then we all took a turn on her cunt while she was strapped in her own bed unconscious."

"Wow," Black Peter said. "We've defeated Ms Americana twice, and raped her once."

"Time for another gang bang, eh boys," Santa said. "Ho ho ho! This is proving a very Merry Christmas for us all. Black Peter, you're up first."

"I got something for her stocking first," Black Peter said evilly.

He was behind Ms Americana, so she couldn't see what he had or was doing. But soon she felt his little hands start to massage her already wet twat. She burned with humiliation as they all laughed and joked about that fact. Then before she understood what he planned, something hard and smooth pressed against her labia.

"What?" she gasped as the vibrating dildo came to life. "Ooooo."

"Ho ho ho!"

Black Peter pressed the vibrating dildo against her clit, until her insides turned to jelly and the first of many orgasms raked her shapely body. Then after the third orgasm, he pushed the dildo deep into her cunt. It was a good ten inches and filled her up with vibrating ecstasy.

"Ahhhhhh."

Almost completely consumed by the dildo rocking her world, she didn't realize he had more planned. The little bastard came up behind Ms Americana and dropped his pants. Using spit as lubricant, he began probing her ass hole with a finger. Once her bunghole adjusted to that finger, he started using two, then three. Soon, he had her ass hole nice and loose and ready to receive him.

"Ohh, yeah," Black Peter sighed as he thrust inside her quivering ass. Black Peter might be a small man, but he wasn't a small man where it counted. He smacked her sweet round ass cheek. CRACK! "I'm butt fucking the great Ms Americana!"

Ms Americana couldn't hold back any longer. The tingling filling her quaking body suddenly transformed into that sweet rush to climax. And it was a mind numbing orgasm, too.

"Aaaiiiieeeee!" she cried, starting to buck and whip her hair about. "Dear Lord! Oh! Oh, my....! Aeeiiiieeeee!"

"Wow, two back to back," one of the elves said with wicked glee.

"I always knew Ameri-cunt would be a screamer," another said.

"Ho ho ho!" Santa Chloro said, stepping up close. "That sweet red mouth is too much to watch. I have to enjoy its hot, erotic pleasures."

Ms Americana, sex dazed and all but incoherent, suddenly found a large cock pressed against her lips. Instinctively, she parted her ruby lips and let him inside. She never gave it a second thought. And she started giving him head immediately without prompting.

"Ho ho ho, she's Ameri-Ho! What a sweet sucker, too," Santa gasped.

On her knees, both arms held firmly, Ms Americana's body was ravaged inside and out by Santa, elves and her own treacherous libido. Black Peter reached around her body and seized both of her massive tits in hand and started to squeeze, fondle and otherwise play with them as he kept up his incessant butt fucking of her ass. She couldn't believe how long he was staying in the saddle. She was falling quickly back into another mind numbing climax.

Santa, of course, had enough head, so started fucking her mouth. He quickly battered past the back of her mouth, caring nothing about her gag reflex, and forced her to give him deep throat. That act sent her over the top again in a soul searing orgasm, that a small part of her mind told her that her power belt was useless to her now.

Ms Americana knew in her heart she was de-powered.

That thought sent another orgasm washing through her body.

Suddenly, Black Peter's efforts became more demanding, more frantic. She felt his large cock swell some more, then Santa started acting the same way. Both men rammed their growing rods harder and deeper into her ass and down her throat. Then as one, both men gasped and thrust deep into Ms Americana, and held their cocks in deep and tight.

Hot cum shot deep into her ass and down her throat. She coughed and gagged, bucked and writhed as she was almost drowned in milky jizm. That, too, send her over the edge.

Santa forced her to lick him clean, then as the next man took his place up her ass, Black Peter stuck his semi-erect cock in her face to be licked clean as well. She licked and sucked it clean. In fact, she was so good at it, he grew excited and hardened inside her mouth. Soon Black Peter was face fucking her with wild abandon.

Everyone took a turn in her ass, and in her mouth. Buy the time they were finished, it was 4 o'clock in the morning. Ms Americana was mindless, with the vibrating dildo still deep inside her tortured pussy.

"Ho ho ho!" Santa said, pulling Ms Americana's head up by her beautiful dark tresses. "Look at her, my evil elves. Tamed. Ms Americana has been fucked into submission."

"The great and might Ms Americana has been tamed!" Black Peter cried in glee.

Ms Americana felt a wet cloth pressed over her mouth and nose. The sickly sweet smell of chloroform filled her head, and she came fully aware for the first time in hours of abuse. But the elves piled on, helping Santa Chloro hold her down while he knocked her out, laughing, "Ho ho ho," all the while.

When she woke, Ms Americana found herself in the back of a panel truck with four of the elves. Santa Chloro and Black Peter were no where to be seen. But she soon realized where they must be, since the truck was moving.

Ms Americana realized with a start that she was bound tightly standing up. In fact, she was strapped inside a red, white and blue painted crate, completely naked. Looking to her right and left, she saw her entire costume arrayed around her, including the power belt. But her arms were strapped tightly to her side, leaving her helpless.

She couldn't asked what was happening, what were their plans for her, for she was ball-gagged. But she knew it was not something she would enjoy, for the elves all looked too smug and pleased with themselves.

Soon the truck stopped and she heard Santa get out. There was the faint sound of knocking, then even fainter voices. After a while a new voice joined them. After that she heard footsteps heading to the back of the panel truck. When the door open, she saw it was just past sunrise. She immediately recognized the man standing beside Santa Chloro.

Nooo! She cried into the ball-gag. But all they heard was, "Ngghhhh!"

Ms Americana struggled in her bounds and shook her head NO. They couldn't do that to her. They just couldn't do that. It was too insidious to contemplate.

"There you go, Mr. Samson," Santa Chloro said. "You're Christmas present. The one and only, Ms Americana fucking action toy."

The boss of the local mob looked her over with steely brown eyes. Then he began to smile.

"Brenda Wade?" he said.

"Ah, that. It would seem the rich and famous Brenda Wade is the alter ego of Ms Americana," Santa Chloro said, smirking. "Imagine my surprise!"

"Well, Santa, you have the gratitude of me and my friends," Mr. Samson said, starting to grin with wicked glee. He motioned to some of his guards, "Get her out of the truck and take her to the guest house. Then call the rest of the boys over for a Christmas bonus."

Ms Americana stared at him in horror. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

THE END