DO NOT
READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR EASILY OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL,
VIOLENCE,
BONDAGE, FEMALE SUBMISSION, SANTA CLAUS IMMITATORS, GROWN MEN
PRETENDING
TO BE SANTA’S HELPERS OR OTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS.
Ms
Americana and Flag Girl are the creations of Mr. X.
Please
direct all comments and feedback to dark_one@live.com.
MS
AMERICANA: BAD SANTA
By Dark
One
Ms Americana stepped inside the Delta City
University Student Commons. The
blast
of heat was a relief after the wintry cold outside. Her skimpy red,
white
and blue bikini did nothing to keep her warm, though the power belt
did
give her some little relief. Indeed,
the cold made her nipples hard as
rocks,
very erect and that condition was quite apparent to anyone who cared
to
look. And there were quite a few young
college men gawking at them at
the
moment.
“Never seen a woman before, boys?” she
said.
They all either blanched, or turned
flaming red, and averted their eyes.
But she
noted with some satisfaction that they couldn’t keep their eyes off
her for
more than a few seconds. Her red booted
legs were looked over, as
was her
shapely rump, 44DDs and glorious raven-wing mane. Even some of the
young
women couldn’t pull their eyes from her.
“Ms Americana!” a perky blonde beauty
said, hurrying her way. “Merry
Christmas! Long time no see. How have you been?”
The blonde beauty wore tight faded jeans
stuffed into tall black boots and
a skin
tight fuzzy pink sweater. Her soft,
silky hair was long and
straight,
with bangs dropping down almost into her blue eyes.
“I’m excellent,” she said. “Merry Christmas. Miss Willis, isn’t it?”
“Yes!
You remembered,” she said, blue eyes flashing with joy. “Lydia
Willis,
to be precise.”
They shared a brief, secret smile. This was not coincidence. Ms Americana
called
ahead and asked Lydia to meet her in the Commons.
“Of course, Lydia,” she said, as if just
barely recalling her name. “What
a
pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Lydia said,
then indicated a bevy of pretty
coeds
surrounding them. She quickly
introduced them. “Is there anything we
can
help you with? Or anyone we can help
you find?”
“No thanks,” she said. Ms Americana indicated the Santa Claus
sitting upon
his
Christmas Throne across the vast Commons.
The Commons’ halls were
“decked”
with Christmas wreaths and other decorations.
Jingle Bells play in
the
background and many of the coeds there wore Christmas themed
accessories,
like Christmas tree balls for earrings.
“I’ve found the man I
was
looking for.”
They all looked at Santa with confused
looks. Ms Americana smiled at them,
then
turned her attention to the Santa. He
didn’t look any different than
thousands
of other Santas working street corners, malls and other places
across
the land for minimum wages. But Ms
Americana found a confusing link
between
him and the string of missing young women in the city. For one,
they
were all students at the University.
Most were freshmen or sophomores.
And without exception, they were beautiful
and vivacious.
“I don’t understand?” Lydia said. “Surely Santa hasn’t done anything
wrong. Has he?”
“I don’t know,” Ms Americana said. The bevy of coeds hung on her every
word,
with open mouths and eyes filled with admiration. A few even cast
Santa a
dark look. Then she lifted up a
necklace, with a tiny little
Christmas
Angel hanging from it. “Sixteen coeds
have disappeared in the
last
week. The Police and I have found clues
indicating at least some of
them
might have visited the Commons shortly before vanishing. Indeed, in
three
instances their cars were found still idling, and we found little
angel
necklaces in their book bags.”
“Those are the necklaces Santa gives to
his favorites,” one of the coeds
said,
grinning wickedly.
“Favorites?”
“That’s right,” Lydia said, pointing at
the Christmas Angel dangling from a
silver
chain at the base of her throat. “Santa
gave me this one just this
morning. After I sat on his lap and told him what I
wanted for Christmas.”
The other girls began giggling. Ms Americana grinned. She understood what
that
meant. She’d played the same game with
the Commons’ Santa Claus in her
day,
when she attended the University. The
girls all go sit on his lap and
tell
what they want for Christmas, but the real game was to try and make him
cum. They would sit prettily, sexily and grind
their firm round hineys into
his
groin, and give him supreme pleasure.
The “mall” Santas all fought
tooth
and nail each year to get that wonderful gig.
The pay was lousy, but
the
beenies were great.
“This year’s Santa gives out a little
Santa necklace to each girl that sits
on his
lap,” Lydia said. Then a look of
mischievousness crept into her
beautiful
blue eyes. “But his favorites get
little angels.”
“It’s not easy getting an angel. He only gives three or four a day,”
another
girl said, pouting. Ms Americana noted
that Lydia was the only one
with an
angel necklace, too. Of course, she was
the prettiest of the bunch.
“I’ve gotten six Santas and no angel
yet. Lydia had to sit on his lap
three
times before she got her angel.”
Ms Americana cut an inquiring look at
Lydia, whose face flamed red.
“I…uh….FINALLY made him cum this morning,”
she said in a tiny, guilty
voice,
but her eyes were alive with delight.
“It’s an old game here, from
what I
understand.”
“Yes,” Ms Americana said, recalling her
college days in the Commons. “But
in my
day we didn’t get confirmation gifts.”
# # #
Santa bit his lip and groaned. The redhead on his lap was the best
yet.
Big
blue eyes. Full kissable lips
glistening burgundy. Her breasts were
high
and proud, and straining the burgundy sweater she wore. She had a body
to die
for, decked out in black leather mini and stiletto pumps.
“I’m been a very bad girl this year,
Santa,” she whispered breathlessly
into
his ear. He could feel her hot breath
on his ear. Her sweet perfume
filled
the air and stroked his libido. Then
she turned slightly, pressing
her
firm bosom against him. He swallowed
hard. “I had sex with the
football
team’s defensive front four. All at
once. Last night.” Suddenly
she
looked all innocent. “But I had
to. I’m their good luck fuck. I
always
do them the night before the game. They
pass me around for hours.”
“Have they been winning?” he croaked out.
“Lost every game this year,” she said,
pouting prettily. She shifted and
her
skirt rode up higher. He glanced down
to see dark red pubic hair. He
saw the
line of her slit through the glistening pubs.
“That why I’ve been a
bad
girl. There’s no luck in my fuck
anymore. And I’ve been a lucky fuck
for
three straight years before this year.”
He placed his hand on her bare thigh and
stroked it sympathetically. She
all but
purred as she wiggled her ass just right, making his rock hard cock
ache
even more.
“Oh, my, you need a change in luck for
Christmas,” Santa said. Those sweet
lips of
hers curled into a sensuous smile.
“Perhaps Santa should meet you
someplace
off campus and give you a very special present usually reserved
for
Mrs. Claus.”
She slipped a key into his hand and
whispered an address, and apartment
number.
“Ho!
Ho! Ho! And here’s a little something from Santa,
Sweetie,” Santa
said,
handing her a Christmas Angel necklace.
She put it on, flashing a
triumphant
look at the line of girls behind her. A
low groan of disappoint
rose
up.
“Thank you, Santa,” she said, then kissed
him on the cheek. Whispering,
“I’ll
be in my Santa’s helper outfit at 10 P.M., Santa.”
With that she was gone.
Life is good, he thought as the redhead
strutted away. Numerous coeds
looked
at her jealously. They all wanted that
little angel, but didn’t know
that
whoever earned it was doomed. Doomed to
white slavery. And only the
best
and most beautiful earned it, too.
“Looks like I’m next, Santa.”
Tearing his eyes off the redhead’s
swinging hiney, he turned to greet the
next
girl. His greeting died in his
throat. Ms Americana was standing
before
him in her patented super heroine pose.
Her big blue eyes bore into
him,
sucking the wind out of his lungs. He
barely had the strength to
swallow
as his eyes ran down her spectacular body.
He didn’t like the mask,
but
thought the rest of her outfit very arousing.
He especially liked the
blue
choker with the golden star. Chokers
reminded him of dog collars and
slave
collars, and he believed all beautiful women should be dragged down
into
white slavery, where they belonged.
“Ms Americana,” he choked out. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Forgive me, Santa,” she said with a
knowing grin as his eyes locked on her
famous
44DDs. “I was in the neighborhood and
decided to drop in. What a
delight
to see Santa here, and I so need to give you my Christmas List.”
“Uh...Of course!” he said, managing to
smile. He wasn’t completely
convinced
she wasn’t there to arrest him. He
patted his lap, “Please, have
a seat
and tell ole Santa what you want for Christmas, Ms Americana.”
A lump formed in his throat as the
spectacular super heroine moved toward
him. Six foot one and a body to die for. He’d never seen her equal. He
wanted
her, and feared her at the same time.
Could he risk it? Should he?
Ms Americana sat on Santa’s lap and
crossed her mile long legs. He
couldn’t
help himself. Santa placed a hand on
her thigh and caressed the
silky
smooth skin, which was so soft and warm.
She smiled and threw an arm
around
his shoulders and leaned into him. Her
massive right tit pressed
into
him, making his heart race. His cock
was rock hard and pressing
against
her rump.
She shifted her weight ever so slightly,
pressing down on his hard cock
perfectly,
and smiled knowingly. Knowing she was
trying to make him cum
made
him twice as horny, and three times as aroused.
“What I really want for Christmas is Peace
on Earth and Justice for All,
Santa,”
she said with mischievous blue eyes.
“But, on a more personal
note...”
He understood she was playing the same
game as the coeds. In that instant
he
understood she didn’t suspect him, and that she was just trying to get an
angel
necklace. All his fear drained
away. He was in control of the
situation. Ms Americana was playing his game.
Glancing down, he noted her star-spangled
bikini bottoms were tight and
thin. He made out the line of her slit through the
fabric. And to his
shock
and pleasure, he discovered her nipples were rock hard and very erect.
“All I want for Christmas is a little
angel,” she whispered. Then she
flexed
her rump muscles just so, sending a jolt of pleasure through his
cock. “What are my chances of getting one?”
“So far so good,” he said and swallowed. It felt good, too good. She
proved
to be the most talented of them all.
Within moments he was ready to
cum,
but she kept his release at bay. “I’m
almost….oh….please, Ms
Americana.”
“Do I get an angel?”
“Of course.”
“Good,” she said, pleased. “Enjoy.”
Ms Americana covertly used her shapely
hiney to stroke his rod. In no time
Santa
felt the tingle turn into the mad rush to climax.
“Ho! Ho! Uuuhhhggg...ho,” he said quietly,
his eyes rolled up in his head.
She
expertly milked him dry, then waited with a pleased smile for her gift.
“Thank
you, Ms Americana, thank you so much.
And this is for you.”
Santa gave her the angel she wanted so
badly. He did it with mixed
emotions,
for he feared she might be too much for his elves to handle. But
they
were the best. And so was Ms Americana.
“Thank you,” Ms Americana said, accepting
the Christmas Angel with a red
gloved
hand. “Next year? Same time and place?”
“I can’t wait.”
With that Ms Americana got up and
left. He waited for her to exit the
building,
then excused himself. Though he claimed
he had to take a bathroom
break,
the coeds all nodded with knowing smiles.
Once in the Men’s Room, he ensured he was
alone then pulled out his cell
phone.
“Santa here,” he said. “I just activated an angel. Do NOT pick her up.
It’s Ms
Americana. That’s a special present
that we’ll have to wait until
last.”
# # #
Ms Americana departed the Commons. She hurried to her “Americana” sports
car and
started the engine. Soon the heater was
going, giving her the heat
she
craved.
Dangling the Christmas Angel from red
gloved fingers, she wondered what it
meant. Were there any connections other than
coincidence? It was obvious
that
sweet old man playing Santa Claus wasn’t involved. She knew evil when
she
spotted it. And he was just a dirty old
man getting his jollies
bouncing
pretty women on his knee.
Even so, she decided to drive around a bit
and check out all the Christmas
decorations
in the city. Just to see if anyone
tried to kidnap her. Not
likely,
but she had her hopes up.
“I just have to get to the bottom of
this,” she said, putting the car in
gear
and burning rubber as she left. “I’ve
promised Commissioner Borden I’d
solve
it before Christmas, and I’ll look foolish if I don’t.”
Ms Americana hated looking anything but
perfect.
# # #.
Lydia returned to Wade Manor in late
afternoon. For a short while, she
thought
she was being followed by a dark blue, late model full-sized van.
She
touched the Christmas Angel hanging around her neck, fearing the men
kidnapping
young coeds were after her. Was Ms
Americana right? Was the
Commons’
Santa the key to this case? And was she
going to be the next
victim
to go missing? But just when she
thought out her plan to get to her
Flag
Girl costume and power belt before getting caught, the van turned off
down a
side road.
“Oh, my,” she breathed, one perfectly manicured
hand over her racing heart.
She laughed. “And here I was making plans to be the heroine of the hour
by
catching the miscreants after me! I’m
so silly some times.”
In a way, Lydia was disappointed. Brenda would’ve been so impressed if she
caught
the kidnappers unassisted. The press
wouldn’t eaten that up, too.
She
longed for acceptance as a super heroine in full glory, not just as Ms
Americana’s
sidekick. A big solo bust would’ve done
it for her, too.
“Maybe next time,” she said as she pulled
into the long driveway up to Wade
Manor. She parked her red convertible BMW outside
the front door and
gathered
her books. Lydia had a lot of studying
to do for her last Final
tomorrow,
which was doubly frustrating. For one,
she was a pretty coed and
had
better things to do than do tedious work.
And another, she wasn’t
allowed
to prowl the streets with Ms Americana as Flag Girl until her Finals
were
all completed. “Another boring
evening. Dammit.”
She dumped the books on the table just
inside the front door. A servant
would
haul them up to her room and place them on her desk. She would jump
into
them after she finished dinner.
“Good evening, Miss Lydia,” Geeves, the
butler, said.
“Good evening, Geeves,” she said. “Has Brenda returned home?”
“I’m afraid not, Miss Lydia. She called and said she’d get dinner at the
office,
and would probably be rather late.”
Frowning, dejected, “Fine. I’ll take pizza in the media room. Dismiss the
staff
and you all go home, Geeves. OK?”
“As you wish, Miss Lydia.”
Fifteen minutes later, Lydia was sprawled
out on a chase in the media room,
watching
Real World on MTV and idly eating pizza off the TV tray. After
Real
World and Road Rules, she’d go do her homework. Unless Celebrity
Deathmatch
reruns were on VH1, of course.
The media room was Lydia’s favorite place
in the mansion. Centered on one
wall
was a huge screen for the movie projector, which she could have her
favorite
TV station projected upon. To either
side of that were banks of
high
definition plasma TVs, allowing her to monitor all of her favorite
channels
at once. Both side walls had massive
fireplaces, which were
presently
decorated for Christmas and had fires blazing merrily. On the
mantels
were Christmas Candles and humorous Christmas statuary of blissful
and
sometimes mischievous looking Santas and elves. The statues ranged in
size
from six inches to twenty-four inches high.
Wade Manor was a vast, sprawling
palace. When it was empty, it could be
spooky
with strange noises and such. Lydia was
used to it. So when the
noises
began, she didn’t notice them right away.
But then the very distinct
sound
of a door shutting came to her.
“Brenda’s home,” she said, eyes brightening. Shouting, “I’m in the media
room!”
Lydia felt all warm inside. She loved her time with Brenda, especially
when
they were Ms Americana and Flag Girl.
Maybe she had a clue they had to
investigate. Oh, it would be so great if she walked in there
and told her
to
dress up in costume.
So when the door swung open, she rolled to
her knees and looked at the door
expectantly. But Ms Americana wasn’t coming through that
door. Nor was
Brenda
Wade. It wasn’t even the butler,
Geeves.
“Santa?”
“Ho!
Ho! Ho! There you are,” Santa said. He gave her a stern look.
“You’ve
been a bad, bad girl. For that you must
be punished.”
Lydia gawked at him a long moment, mouth
open. Why was he there? Did she
say or
do something to make him think there would be more than what they had
that
morning? Who let him inside? The staff was dismissed. Then she saw
the men
behind him, all dressed up in green elf costumes.
“Oh my God!” Lydia cried. “You…you are…”
“Bad Santa,” he said, grinning evilly. “Okay, evil elves, time to unwrap
this
pretty little present.”
Lydia rolled off the chase and took a
defensive stance. One of the elves
laughed
and charged her. She smirked, knowing
he was in for a rude
awakening. Flag Girl was more than a match for any five
plus miscreants.
Though,
she counted six men, including Bad Santa.
But Santa was old and she
didn’t
consider him a threat.
“You won’t be unwrapping anything this
Christmas, Bad Santa,” she said, and
kicked
at Bad Santa’s approaching elf. But the
kick to the head, that
would’ve
put him down for the count, ended up striking his hip. Her skin
tight
jeans had no give. “Oh, shit!”
Lydia suddenly realized she wasn’t Flag
Girl, in her skimpy red, white and
blue
star-spangled costume. The costume that
was so skimpy it didn’t
restrict
her movements at all. A costume
designed to distract her enemies
long
enough for her to get the upper hand.
And worse, no costume meant no
power
belt.
I’m normal strength! Lydia thought in
shock, then fright. I’ve got to get
away.
If she could get to the secret room
upstairs, then she would be hidden from
the
intruders and could safely change into Flag Girl. As Ms Americana’s
sexy
sidekick she would be more than a match for them.
“Got her!” an elf cried, bring her rudely
out of her brief reverie.
“No!
Let go, you nasty man,” Lydia cried, struggling to escape the iron
grasp
of the burly elf. He had hold of her
right wrist and she couldn’t
break
the hold. A second later, another elf
arrived and seized her other
wrist. She found her arms pulled out and herself
stretched between two evil
men. “Release me or else!”
“Release you?” Bad Santa said, grinning
evilly. “That would be neither
fun,
nor profitable.”
Lydia froze in mid-struggle. “Profitable?”
Bad Santa caressed her silky soft
cheek. Then he ran his thumb along her
lower
lips, smearing her pink lipstick. The
look of animal hunger in his
eyes
took her breath way.
“Once we’re finished with you, then we’ll
sell you into white slavery,” Bad
Santa
said. His lusty eyes drifted down to
her amble 38D breasts, heaving
and
straining against her tight, pink cashmere sweater. “Such pretty
wrapping. A present worthy of opening.”
With that, Bad Santa seized her sweater at
the neck, and ripped it open.
She was
exposed, revealing the lacy black bra she wore. Lydia gasped, and
then
struggled insanely. A third elf came up
behind her at that time and
seized
her tits from behind, gave them a squeeze, then unfastened the snap
between
her magnificent mammaries.
Lydia yelped in shock as her beautiful,
firm tits dropped and jounced
enticingly
before the lusty men. She struggled
insanely for a long moment,
until
she knew for certain she couldn’t break free, and that her struggles
were
making her breasts bouncing around in such a way as to excite those
terrible
men even more.
With her 38Ds vulnerable and exposed to
all eyes, Bad Santa licked his lips
and
reached for them. She cried out,
twisting and turning, once again doing
everything
to escape the vile touch of Bad Santa and his evil elves. But to
know
avail.
Bad Santa sucked in a pretty pink nipple,
and began sucking hard. Both
hands
squeezed and kneaded her globular white tits, savoring the warm,
silkiness
of her skin and the slowing stiffening, rubbery nipples. All the
while,
the evil elves were ripping off her clothes.
“Oh!
Stop! This isn’t right,” she
cried, wildp-eyed.
In no time, her tattered sweater was stripped
off. She quickly found
herself
topless, on her knees before Bad Santa.
The elves were holding her
arms
out and to the back and forcing her forward, with a foot between her
shoulder
blades. Her face was dick high to Bad
Santa, who was pulling out
his
Jolly Old Cock.
“No!
Please, this is wrong,” she begged.
“I’m a virgin. I’m only
nineteen.”
“Nineteen and prime meat for the white
slave market,” Bad Santa said,
moving
up to her face, cock in hand. “Ho! Ho!
Ho! Down your throat I go!”
“Oh…my…..God,” Lydia said as his cock
moved unstoppably toward she hot,
pink
mouth. “I’m the ward of a very rich
woman, Brenda Wade, and she will
pay
ransom IF I’m unmolested.”
His cock touched her lips. Pressed into them, demandingly. She knew then
he
wouldn’t be swayed by any promise of ransom.
So she clamped her teeth
and
lips shut, denying his entry.
“Anyone have the key to this bitch’s
mouth?” Bad Santa said, chucking.
“Yeah, I have it in my boot here,” an elf
said behind her.
Lydia started to look behind her,
to see what he had planned. But it was
too
late. The elf kicked her in the
twat. Hard.
“Aaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee!” she cried,
eyes wide in shock, horror and
pain. Bad Santa stuffed his cock into her mouth. “Mmmmppphhhhffff!”
Lydia couldn’t believe what was
happening. And more, she couldn’t
believe
the
stench of Bad Santa’s cock! Did he ever
wash it? And the taste was
nasty,
too. She would’ve gagged if her mouth
wasn’t stuffed to the max.
Bad Santa’s head rolled back as he pushed
himself deep into sweet mouth.
Lydia
raged and tried to speak, until she realized she was just making a
humming
sound and vibration, that felt heavenly to Bad Santa. So she shut
up, and
relaxed. With her fight over, and Lydia
just seething before him,
Bad
Santa began fucking her mouth in earnest.
Lydia, though, refused to suck or give him
any more pleasure than he was
gaining
without her cooperation. He tried to
push into her throat, to make
her
deep throat him, but she held him at bay.
Suddenly she felt hands on
her
rump, then her hips. That same someone
began massaging her twat through
the
jeans.
“Mmphhhh!” she protested. She felt heat between her legs, deep in her
pussy. Then her whole body shuddered. “Hhhhmmmmpphhh!”
Those hands reached round and unfastened
her tight jeans, then unzipped
her. Lydia’s eyes went wide in shock, and she
choked when Bad Santa’s cock
slipped
into her throat. Before she understood
what happened, Bad Santa’s
cock
was completely inside her and she was fighting her gag reflex. Not
that he
was giving her even an inch to gag in, though.
With her jeans unfastened, she felt the
elf’s hands begin to wander again.
They
went over her rump, up and down her firm thighs, and finally stopped on
her
tall, black boots. He caressed the five
inch stilettos a long moment,
then
she felt him unzip the boots and remove them.
After that, he quickly
removed
her jeans.
“Oooo, she’s all wet and ready,” the elf
said, cupping her twat.
“Mmmmm.
Hphhhmmmm!”
“I think she said, ‘Fuck me! Fuck me long and hard, big boy!’” another
elf
said,
and laughed.
“Close enough for me,” the elf said,
fingering her sopping pussy lips.
“These
rich bitches act all haughty to hide how horny they are. They’re all
just a
bunch of super sluts waiting to be opened up and shown what to do by
a firm
hand.”
Lydia gasped around the massive cock in
her mouth when his fingers opened
her sex
up. He spread her pussy lips wide, letting
cool air in. It was
like an
electric shock through her system. The
elf began to massage her
slippery
love lips with one hand, while reaching around to pinch and flick
her now
erect nipples with the other. She
closed her eyes and tried to
concentrate
on something disgusting. Like
guts. Bloody guts.
Bad Santa’s fucking of her mouth was too
much of a distraction, and the elf
was
quite good at what he was doing as well.
Between the two of them, Lydia
soon
found herself in a precarious
situation. The heat in her twat had
turned
into a tingling warmth infusing her entire body. And it was steadily
getting
more and more intense. Soon she would
loose control of her emotions
and
body.
Then the elf found her clit and flicked
it. She jumped, eyes wide in shock
once
again. He flicked it again and she
groaned miserably. He knew he had
found
something, so spend the next five minutes frying her mind with the
most
incredibly circular motions on and around her clit.
She barely noticed Bad Santa’s cock
growing slightly larger in her mouth,
and his
pumping getting more frantic. Lydia’s
full attention was held slave
by the
elf’s fingers on her clit and nipple.
Until, that is, the elf moved
his
erect penis in and pressed it against her trembling twat. A second
later,
he thrust his hips and she found herself impaled upon a genuine male
cock
for the first time. The second thrust
brought him to the gates of
heaven,
her intact Hymen.
“The rich bitch was telling the truth,” he
said, thrilled. “She really is
a
virgin!”
Please stop! I beg you! She cried, but all they heard was, “Hlleeee
slllpppp! Uhh beellll uphfff!”
The exuberant elf seized her hips with
both hands and inched up a bit
closer
between her sprayed legs. Her heart
raced, the blood pounding in her
ears
like war drums. Suddenly she couldn’t
breath, couldn’t think.
He thrust hard, causing Lydia to squeal
and buck.
“Oops, she WAS a virgin,” he laughed.
Bad Santa lost it then. She felt his cock convulse deep inside her
mouth,
then he
started to pull out. The first spurt
went deep into her throat, but
the
second slide across her tongue. The
third sprayed her pretty pink lips,
and the
fourth and final spurt from Bad Santa’s cock spewed across her
shocked
face.
“Oooooo, Gaawwwwdddd,” she groaned, for
the elf was thrusting hard, and
deep
within her womanhood. “Oh,
please….oh……God,
please…..don’t……don’t….stop….”
“She said don’t stop, Larry,” Bad Santa
said, chuckling as he used her
silky
blonde hair to wipe his cock clean.
Larry the Elf began banging her pussy with
a vengeance. Lydia could only
gasp
and endure. Enduring feelings she never
felt before. Pleasure and
pain. Pain that stoked her pleasure. And, worse, it all felt soooo right.
The cock was completely inside her
now. The full length of his cock was
being
used with each stroke. Each stroke
ended with a wet slap of male
thighs
against female hiney and thighs. She
heard the squishing noise of
his
cock sliding in and out, in and out, in and out. Squish, squish, slap.
Squish,
squish, slap.
“Ohhhhhhh.”
She felt her heavy tits swaying and
jostling. She felt the sweat rolling
off her
back, down her sides, down her swinging tits.
The air cooled the
tracks
of those beads of sweat, invigorating Lydia.
The feel of beads of
sweat
dripping off her nipples stoked her libido.
The warm tingle flamed up
and
turned into a hot rush to climax.
“Forgive me!” she cried as an orgasm
rolled up from her twat, to consume
her
body and soul. “Oh! Ohhh!
Aaaaiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee!
Yes! Yes!
Y-y-yeeeeeeesssssssssss! Oh God, YES!”
Bad Santa laughed, “I think the pretty
little rich bitch has found the
Christmas
spirit.”
The elves laughed as Lydia’s shapely,
well-endowed body was racked by
another
mind blowing orgasm. She bucked,
gasped, all the while alternately
wondering
if it would ever end, and praying it didn’t.
# # #
Ms Americana arrived at Wade Manor late
that evening. Most of the lights
were
already off. She rolled into her secret
garage and sighed with relief.
It had been a long day, and fruitless. She was no closer to determining
who was
kidnapping the young women, much less finding them.
It wasn’t looking good for pretty young
women at that moment.
“Oh, well, after a good night’s sleep I’ll
start again tomorrow.”
She headed for the elevator to the secret
suite of chambers behind her
bedroom
suite, her stiletto heels echoing in the dimly lit subterranean
garage. The garage was full. There were a dozen Ameri-bikes – racing
motorcycles
custom painted for her and Flag Girl.
Four fast sports cars – a
convertible
and hard top each for her and Flag Girl with their emblems
painted
on them.
The elevator was warm. The carpet was thick and spongy, while the
walls
were
paneled oak. The secret chamber was
four stories up from the garage,
both
well hidden. And they weren’t the only
hidden chambers and basements
within
the sprawling mansion.
In keeping with the season, Christmas
carols filled the elevator from
hidden
speakers. That meant Lydia was home and
had the house stereo going.
Ms
Americana smiled, thinking how much Lydia loved this time of year. They
both did. If only she could solve this case then she
could relax and enjoy
the
season as well.
There were only two stops for the
elevator. Secret garage and secret
suite. When the doors opened she stepped out into a
lavish chamber filled
with
computers, monitors and other surveillance equipment. They could
monitor
most of the city from that room, having secretly tied in to the
local
Department of Transportation camera network, as well as all the police
and
private surveillance networks.
In addition to the electronic equipment,
the chamber doubled as a sprawling
closet. One side was Ms Americana’s, the other Flag
Girl’s. Extra costumes
where
hung up, as well as older versions of hers and Flag Girl’s costumes.
Things
changed, like fashion and personal tastes, and so did Ms Americana’s
costume.
First, she checked to ensure Lydia wasn’t
in there. Then she headed to her
dressing
area, removing her red gauntlet gloves as she went. Sitting on a
silken
stool, Ms Americana unzipped and removed her red boots, with the
white
stripe up the front and golden stars on the sides. After spending a
long
moment massaging her feet and wiggling her toes, she stood up and
walked
to the mirror. First thing, she removed
the mask. Like the boots,
removing
the mask required a moment to rub and massage her face beneath. It
wasn’t
easy being a super heroine. Then
starting at her earrings, she
started
removing her costume. Choker. Bikini top.
Bikini bottom.
Brenda Wade revealed.
“Ah, it’s good to be me again,” she said,
grinning. In truth, she never
felt
more alive than when she was Ms Americana.
But Ms Americana couldn’t
relax,
while Brenda could and did.
Since it was time to be Brenda, she
slipped on a pair of black hose,
attached
them to a black lace garter belt, then slipped on a pair of black
stiletto
pumps. After donning a lacy white
blouse, she put on a charcoal
gray
skirt and black belt. As an
afterthought, she put the Christmas Angel
around
her neck.
And last, but not least, a pair of glasses
to complete the disguise.
“Now I look the proper business woman.”
So attired, she returned to the elevator
and found her BMW. Driving it
out,
she circled around and entered Wade Manor as Brenda after a long, hard
day at
the office. Strangely, there was a dark
blue, late model van parked
behind
Lydia’s cherry red BMW.
Brenda frowned. She didn’t mind Lydia bringing her college friends home,
but
under the circumstances with all the missing coeds, she thought Lydia
would
show better judgment. After all, they
could be called out at any
moment
if another clue was discovered.
“We’ll have to discuss this later,” she
muttered, entering the front door.
From
the squeals and laughter coming from the media room, Lydia and her
friends
were having a grand time. She heard the
voices of men. They
sounded
disgustingly happy and pleased with themselves, too. “This party’s
over.”
Brenda marched straight back to the media
room. She pushed open the door
and
stalked in.
“What’s going on….in….here…oh my! LYDIA!”
“Get her!” Bad Santa cried.
Two men dressed in green elf costumes
charged her. Brenda knew everything
in an
instant. The Commons Santa was their
leader. The Christmas Angels
had to
be some kind of homing device. The
little angel still hung from
Lydia’s
slender neck, bouncing against her plump, swinging tits as she was
being
fucked from behind.
Brenda slugged the first elf, but got gut
punched by the second. That
punch
doubled her up, sent her glasses skittering across the room and
reminded
her she wasn’t wearing her power belt.
She wasn’t Ms Americana but
Brenda
Wade.
She understood she was in serious trouble.
The first elf rabbit punched her, and then
seized her long, black hair. He
then
took off running, forcing her to follow, and prompting ran her head
first
into the wall. Brenda collapsed at his
feet, moaning and groaning.
Taking a long, red Christmas candle off
the fireplace mantle, the second
elf
rolled her onto her back and jerked her skirt up. Then he brutally
thrust
the candle up her cunt.
“Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhh!” Brenda cried,
incredulous. “Stop!”
Two more elves and Santa joined them. An elf seized each arm, holding her
down on
the floor spread eagle, with the red candle sticking out of her
aching
twat. Then Santa knelt between her legs
and took hold of the candle.
“Merry Christmas, Ms Wade,” Bad Santa
said. He pulled the candle almost
out,
then thrust it in even deeper. “A very
merry Christmas for me and my
elves. Ho! Ho! Ho!”
“You monster,” she growled. He pushed the candle even deeper. “Ooooo.”
Brenda struggled weakly. The elves were all strong, burly men. And they
were
all staring at her 44DDs, thankfully still covered by her blouse. But
she
wasn’t wearing a bra, so they could see her tits swaying and bouncing
under
the thin silk blouse.
Cocking her head, she could see
Lydia. The poor girl was fucked stupid
already. No telling how long they had been abusing her. Lydia was
vigorously
sucking an elf, while her left hand was cupping and stroking the
elf’s
balls, and the other hand was holding the base of his long shaft to
keep
the cock in her mouth. She was totally
lost in the sex.
Brenda could see cum on her face, tits and
inner thighs. He clearly wasn’t
the
first elf to fuck her that night.
Unfortunately, Brenda realized she
wasn’t
going to fare any better.
Bad Santa released the candle and moved up
her body. He straddled her tiny
waist,
sitting. Without ceremony, he ripped
open her blouse.
“Whoa, boys, check out the present Brenda
Wade gave us!”
“Lord All Mighty!”
“Shhiiiittt!”
“What a set!”
“I’m next!”
“Easy, my evil elves, everyone gets to
ride the pretty millionaire
goodie-two-shoe,”
Bad Santa said. All the while, he was
fondling her
massive
tits. He slapped them back and forth a
while, then smashed them
together,
enjoying the way the always sprang back delightfully. He
repeatedly
pinched her large, pink nipples, abusing them until they grew
erect
and hard. “But first, I get to titty
fuck her.”
“No!
How dare you,” Brenda cried. “Do
you know who I am?”
“Duh,” Bad Santa said. “Why do you think this is going to be so
much fun?”
“Perverts!”
“I don’t think she’s filled with the
Christmas Spirit, my evil elves,” Bad
Santa
said.
“But she can be, Bad Santa,” an elf said,
pulling a ten-inch tall, narrow
Christmas
Elf statuette off a mantel.
“Oh no!” Brenda cried, understanding
dawning. It was a very phallic
looking
elf. Indeed, the Christmas Elf
statuette had a mischievous cast to
his
face. “NO!”
One of the elves holding her legs was
distracted, allowing her to pull her
foot
free. She used that free foot to kick
Bad Santa away, then kick
herself
free of the other three elves. In short
order Brenda was on her
feet,
pulled the candle out of her twat, and squared off with the evil elf
holding
the elven statuette.
“It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I let
you molest me again,” Brenda
snarled,
blue eyes flashing fire.
“Well, it is dropping below freezing
tonight,” Bad Santa said. “And this
is a
Hellova bad night for you and your ward, so…”
The statue wielding elf charged, swinging
the statuette like a blackjack.
She
ducked beneath his swing, but before she could take advantage of his
vulnerability,
another elf grabbed her from behind, wrapping strong arms
around
her just below her titanic tits and lifting her feet off the floor.
“Ugh!” she cried. Her arms flailed and her feet pedaled trying
in vain to
get
grounded. “Release me!”
The evil elf before her brought the
statuette back, connecting with the
side of
her head. She grunted and felt the
strength vanish from her body.
Bad
Santa stepped in and sent an upper cut to her chin, then a fierce series
of
punches to her unprotected belly.
Brenda’s arms and legs suddenly
drooped. She had no strength to lift
them.
They had beaten it out of her. So the elf set her back on the floor, and
she was
forced to all fours. Then the rest of
her clothes were ripped off,
leaving
her on all fours in nothing but lacy garter belt, black hose and
stiletto
pumps.
“Fill her with the Christmas Spirit,
Johnny,” Bad Santa said, grinning
fiercely
at his defeated prey.
“Please don’t,” Brenda gasped as she knelt
on all fours, powerless and so
utterly
helpless with pain and humiliation she couldn’t move. Could barely
think. “I’ll do anything you ask. Please.”
“You heard her, Johnny, the rich bitch is
BEGGING for it,” Bad Santa said,
and
laughed. “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
Bad Santa squatted before Brenda, cupping
her face and forcing her to look
him in
the eyes. His smug, self-satisfied grin
was another knife in the
heart. Then she felt the elf beginning to probe her
cunt with the tip of
the
wicked elven statuette. She recalled
how two years back some of her
girlfriends
had remarked on how “phallic” shaped her Christmas statuary all
appeared.
“Uhhhggghhh,” Brenda groaned as the elf’s
head was pushed into her vagina.
Her
twat muscles immediately clamped down on it, halting its progress, but
intensifying
her shameful pleasure. “Ooooooo.”
“Look at how her eyes roll up and close,
and her full red lips part every
so
slightly, so sexily,” Bad Santa said.
“Oh, she’s enjoying this too much.
Ram it home, Johnny.”
“No.
Wait, I’ll...Oooooooo, Great Liberty,” she gasped. She felt half the
elf up
her twat. He pushed again, and another
inch of elf went in.
“Aaiiieeee. Mercy!”
“No mercy for you, you arrogant, big
titted rich bitch,” Bad Santa said.
He
indicated her magnificent home. “You
lived all your life in the lap of
luxury,
never giving a second thought to those of us that were poor and
barely
got by from paycheck to paycheck. Well,
I’ve found a way to get even
with
all you snooty women and rich bitches, and make a ton of money doing
it,
too. White slavery.”
The ten inch elf was pulled completely out
of Brenda’s cunt, to her great
relief. But then it was shoved back in. She gasped and bucked, but the elf
went
all the way in this time. She froze in
place, unable to breath or
move,
as her body tried to adjust to ten inches of carved, painted oak
shoved
up her cunt.
Then he pulled it almost out, and pushed
it back in. And again. And
again. Soon, her pussy adjusted completely, and the
elf was plunging in and
out as
the evil elf wielding it hooted with glee.
Meanwhile, she felt her
body
changing. The original tingle caused by
sexual abuse was changing.
Her
whole body was infused with warmth.
“Oooo, nooooo,” she cried, feeling her
body building toward climax. “Stop
it! Stop it before it is too late.”
The evil elf pushed the statuette all the
way in, then started twisting it
back
and fourth, like an washing machine agitator deep up her cunt. And
that
proved too much for Brenda’s embattled libido to endure.
“Aaaiiiieeeeeee!”
The climax shattered her resolve and left
her panting as the evil elf kept
up his
maddening use of the statuette. Seconds
later, another orgasm
rattled
her world, and set the evil elves to crowing with glee.
“The pretty little blonde agrees with
you,” Bad Santa said, twisting
Brenda’s
head to the side. Forcing her to look
at Lydia. “She’s enjoying a
Christmas
Santa just as much as you.”
It was worse than that. Lydia was mindlessly fucking the phallic
shaped
Santa
statuette crammed up her cunt. One of
the evil elves was holding the
base of
the ten inch tall statuette, while Lydia rode it like a wild bronco.
She was bouncing her rump up and down, with
the Christmas Elf statuette
plunging
in and out. No one was touching
her. No one was making her do it.
They had fucked her ward into becoming a
mindless sex machine.
Another orgasm rocked Brenda’s world,
sapping out the last of her will
power
and strength.
“I am defeated,” she muttered. The elf ramming the statuette up her cunt
suddenly
pressed the base against the floor and stopped. The sudden
stopping
of stimulation left her feeling empty, so she began emulating
Lydia,
bouncing up and down upon the statuette herself. Very soon the sweet
tingle
began, starting to build. “I am tamed.”
# # #
Around two in the morning, Brenda lay
sprawled face down in her own bed
upstairs. Bad Santa and every one of his evil elves
had come up and spend
an hour
fucking the shit out of her. In her own
bed. She’d answered their
every
desire, their every depraved request and demand. Her silk sheets were
soaked
in sweat and cum. Her long black hair
was plastered to her neck and
back.
The last elf lay atop her. Snoring.
His flaccid cock was still up her
asshole. She looked at the bedside clock. Five minutes to two. Bad Santa
would
be up to rouse them shortly, and then she would be taken away into
white
slavery. Lydia too.
Then it registered. The evil elf was asleep.
I can escape, she thought.
Very carefully, she rolled over and dumped
him in the bed beside her. He
never
woke up. She smiled, eyeing him
narrowly. They would all pay for
what
they have done to her and Lydia. And
pay dearly.
Brenda eased out of bed and hurried to the
secret, hidden door to her
secret
room. Once inside, she paused to
regroup. It was a terrible defeat.
She had been humbled, and worse, made to
enjoy her own sexual abuse.
“I was tamed,” she muttered, anger
flaring. “Never again!”
Brenda began to dress in her Ms Americana
costume.
While dressing, she watched the internal
security monitors. Less than
three
minutes after her escape, Bad Santa showed up to discover that escape.
She smiled with a vengeful cast in her eyes
as she put on her
star-spangled
bikini top.
“I’m ready,” she said, after putting on
the shiny gold power belt last.
She
felt very little benefit from the power belt.
At best, she figured she
was
twice her normal strength as Brenda.
But as time wore on, she would
gain
more and more strength from the belt.
“I can’t believe I climaxed so
often.”
Once dolled up as Ms Americana, she took
the elevator down to her special
car. Then she left the garage, circled around and
drove back up the
driveway
and parked behind Brenda’s sports luxury sedan. Within seconds,
she was
inside Wade Manor and heading for the Media Room.
As she approached the media room, Ms
Americana heard the turmoil within Bad
Santa’s
ranks. They were shouting and accusing
each other of letting Brenda
escape. Now they were afraid she called 911, and the
police would be there
shortly. They had to escape, taking Lydia with them.
“I don’t think so, Bad Santa,” Ms
Americana said, assuming her classic
super
heroine stance just inside the media room door. She saw Lydia being
held,
wild eyed and waiting for her chance to help.
“I’m taking you all in
for
trafficking in white slavery. So I
suggest you surrender quietly, or
suffer
the consequences.”
She gave them her fiercest glare. Several of the evil elves blanched. But
Bad
Santa shook his head, a grim look upon his aged, bearded face.
“No way we’re surrendering without a
fight, Ameri-tits,” Bad Santa said.
Then to
the evil elves, “Ok, boys, she’s just one woman. So deck the halls
in
Ameri-tits!”
“Men like you just suck the Christmas
Spirit right out of me,” Ms Americana
snarled
and leapt at them.
Bad Santa and three evil elves charged
her. Two elves held tightly onto
Lydia,
who was struggling valiantly to escape.
Ms Americana was so proud of
her
ward and sidekick. Even after hours and
hours of mind-numbing sex and
abuse,
she was still ready to fight for justice.
Ms Americana darted left, putting a sofa
between her and the white slavers.
And it gave her a free shot at the two men
holding Lydia. Seeing her
coming,
they released Lydia and charged Ms Americana, as she had hoped.
“Run, Miss Lydia,” Ms Americana
cried. “Call the police while I take
care
of
these miscreants.”
Ms Americana met the two elves then. She kicked the first in the head,
then
grabbed the arm of the second. She
began spinning him around and
released
him at the other three elves, bowling them down. About that time
Lydia
cried out in anger, for Bad Santa had cut her off at the door and was
struggling
with her.
“Release that poor girl, you heartless
miscreant,” Ms Americana cried,
charging.
Bad Santa cried out and darted out the
door. Ms Americana followed, filled
with
vengeance. She would teach him a lesson
in respect for women before
the
police arrived. She heard Lydia running
behind her, her bare feet
slapping
on the hardwood floors. But she didn’t
hear the elf that was
following
Lydia.
“Stop and fight like a man, Bad Santa,” Ms
Americana cried. She stopped
and
looked around. He wasn’t in the Great
Room. She listened, but didn’t
hear
anything. Suddenly, she felt sick. They were all escaping! “Bad
Santa,
you can’t escape me!”
She heard the van start up. Charging through the front door, she jumped
in
front
of the van. Bad Santa was in the driver
seat, gawking at her open
mouthed.
“You can’t escape me, Bad Santa,”
she said. “Surrender, or else!”
“I chose or else!” he said, and gunned the
engine, driving straight at Ms
Americana.
Ms Americana leapt as high as she could,
got caught by the windshield. A
second
later he crashed through the huge front window and Ms Americana flew
through
into the Great Room.
# # #
Lydia raced upstairs, tits flopping and
bouncing all over the place. She
silently
vowed never to run naked again. Within
seconds she was inside her
bedroom
suite, and pushing the hidden button that opened the entrance to the
secret
room.
“Hurry,” she groaned when it felt like the
hydraulic door was taking too
long. “Ms Americana needs my help.”
Lydia understood Ms Americana couldn’t
defeat Bad Santa and his evil elves
alone. They’d both been beaten down by intense,
ceaseless sex for untold
hours
and hours. Neither of their power belts
would give them full
strength,
so it would take both of them together to defeat the wicked white
slavers.
So, Lydia very quickly pulled on her red
boots, red opera gloves and blue
choker. Then she wiggled into her very tight, red
and white stripped micro
mini,
and star-spangled tube top. That done,
she pulled her long blonde
tresses
back into her “Flag Girl” ponytail and bangs look, then put on the
blue
mask that covered the upper portion of her face.
“Ah, Flag Girl, you are greatly needed
tonight,” she said to her
reflection,
grinning. Then her grin turned nasty as
she hurried back toward
the
secret door back into her room. “I will
have my vengeance, and justice
will
prevail.”
# # #
Johnny followed the pretty blonde
coed. He wasn’t going to let Lydia
escape
like Larry let Brenda Wade escape. No
sir! Hell, who knew, she
might
even lead him to Brenda as well. And
while his comrades battled Ms
Americana,
he would sweep the lovely ladies away for carnal merriment and
profit.
He followed her upstairs, and watched as
she slipped inside a door. Johnny
opened
that door just in time to see Lydia slip inside a secret door in her
closet. That door closed with a hydraulic hiss
before he could reach it.
Looking around for the button, he began
pushing and prodding everything
within
sight. He was determined to get inside
and catch Lydia and Brenda.
“Well, this explains how Brenda Wade
escaped while locked in her own
bedroom,”
Johnny said. “We should’ve realized a spooky old mansion like this
had secret
rooms and tunnels.”
While examining the edges of the door, so
cunningly hidden within the cedar
paneling,
her heard stiletto foot steps inside the door, coming closer. So
he
moved back, hiding within the hanging clothes, and waited to jump the
young
twit when she returned.
The door opened, and Flag Girl came
out. He was stunned into
motionlessness. She paused only to press a button hidden in
the closet door
jamb,
then raced away.
Compelled, he hurried over to the hidden
button and pressed it. The door
hissed
open and he hurried through. Inside, he
stopped and stared in
shocked
and delighted surprise.
“Oh my God, Brenda Wade is Ms Americana,
and Lydia is Flag Girl,” he
muttered.
He checked out the computers. The monitors. Even watched as his cohorts
battled
Ms Americana and Flag Girl, and barely held their own.
“If they knew the truth, then they
wouldn’t be so afraid of them,” he said,
grinning
evilly.
# # #
Ms Americana groaned and rolled onto her
back. Numerous little cuts
covered
her shapely body and began to sting.
But at least she was alive and
in one
piece.
“Bastard,” she groaned as she staggered to
her feet. “You will pay dearly
for
that, too.”
“There she is!”
Glancing over her shoulder, Ms Americana
saw the rest of the elves charging
her. Bad Santa was crawling out of the wreckage,
glaring daggers at her.
“Five to one,” she said, sizing them
up. She thought, maybe, just maybe,
her
strength was up to three times normal.
Of course, the long hard fucking
of the
last eight plus hours, and the latest beaten she took from the van
sapped
so much of her strength. “Going to be
interesting.”
Turning, Ms Americana raced out of the
Great Room and around a corner. The
elves
hooped and hollered in triumph and followed closely. But she wasn’t
running
away, just laying a trap. As soon as
she rounded the corner, Ms
Americana
stopped and flattened herself against the wall. She heard the
evil
elves charging after her. Four of them.
Ms Americana let the first three pass
unmolested, but stepped out and
clotheslined
the fourth elf. He hit the floor
clutching at his injured
throat
as the other three came to a startled halt.
She smiled and raced
around
the corner.
“Bad Santa!” she cried. “Where are you hiding, coward!”
“Right here,” he said, stepping out from
behind an antique cabinet. She
was
running pell-mell, and couldn’t stop or turn.
He punched her in the gut
and
doubled her up. “Have some Christmas
PUNCH, Ameri-Tits!”
He kicked her left tit. Ms Americana cried out, clutching at the
abused
mammary
as she rolled away. Rolling to her
feet, she was surprised by the
arrival
of the other elves. One of them punched
her in the face, sending
her
stumbling back into Bad Santa’s arms.
Bad Santa groped her titanic tits, and
then punched her in the face,
sending
her stumbling back to the elves. Then
one of the elves came up
behind
her, slipped his arms under hers and pulled them back. Another elf,
the one
called Larry, stepped up and punched her once, twice, three times in
the
stomach. Then he was pushed aside by
Bad Santa, who promptly kneed her
in the
groin.
“Oops,” he said, chuckling. “I guess you know why I’m called Bad Santa
now,
heh?”
“Fuck you,” she muttered.
“You will,” he said. “Oh, yes, you will fuck us all, Ameri-tits,
before
it’s
all over and we sell you into white slavery.”
“Not today, STUPID Santa,” Flag Girl
said. “You have to defeat me first
before
you are allowed to deliver that present!”
Flag Girl stood behind Bad Santa and his
elves in the classic super heroine
stance. She never looked more beautiful, more
commanding than she did at
that
moment. In Ms Americana’s opinion,
anyways.
While the white slavers were distracted,
stunned, Ms Americana head-butted
Bad
Santa and stomped down on the foot of the elf holding her. Her sharp
stiletto
heel driving into his foot ripped a primal scream from his throat
as he
released her. That scream startled them
all, and made them jump back.
“We have them now, Flag Girl!” she cried,
lunging at Bad Santa. She caught
him by
the beard, then used it to spin and hurl him into the smashed up
grill
of the van. “I enjoyed smashing into that
so much, I thought you
should
be giving the same opportunity. I hope
you enjoyed it as much as I
did,
miscreant.”
“Get them, my evil elves,” Bad Santa
croaked out.
Together, Ms Americana and Flag Girl cut
off their escape routes and
started
herding the hapless white slavers into one corner. The fight was
beaten
out of them now. They didn’t think they
could fight two super
heroines.
“What’s going on?” an elf said from the
Great Room door. He was leering at
the two
super heroines. His mocking voice was
full of contempt. “You’re
not
afraid of THEM, are you?”
“Duh, it’s Ms Americana and Flag Girl,
moron,” Larry said.
“Yes, that’s true,” he said. Then he held up several Flag Girl costumes
in
one
hand, and several Ms Americana costumes in the other. “But we’ve
already
defeated them both once tonight. Brenda
Wade is Ms Americana, and
Lydia
is Flag Girl. I followed Lydia up to
their secret changing room, full
of Flag
Girl and Ms Americana paraphernalia.”
“You’re right,” Bad Santa said, standing
up on wobbly legs. “Brenda and Ms
Americana
are the same size, and have the same black hair. And Lydia and
Flag
Girl are the same too. Look at them!”
“You’re wrong,” Ms Americana said,
suddenly stricken with fear and dread.
“Accusing
two innocent women of that will only get them killed by vengeful
crime
lords and such.”
Both super heroines took a couple steps
back. Confused and frightened,
they
didn’t know what to do.
“If you turn us into the police, then
we’ll tell everyone what we know,”
Bad
Santa said, stepping towards them.
Ms Americana, her mind reeling, staggered
back another step. She saw the
evil
elves spread out, and encircle them.
Flag Girl shared a dismal,
disbelieving
look with her.
Ms Americana stepped back another step,
and bumped into an elf. He punched
her in
the kidney and shoved her at Bad Santa.
In the next instant, Flag
Girl’s
long blonde ponytail was seized, and she was yanked backwards. Her
top was
ripped off and she was shoved across the circle, to land in the arms
of
another elf. Meanwhile, Ms Americana
stumbled and fell to her knees
before
Bad Santa.
Bad Santa kicked Ms Americana in the face,
grabbed her long, black hair and
pulled
her to all fours. Then he reached down
and unfastened her power
belt.
“No!” she cried. Reaching for Bad Santa, “Give that back!”
“Hold her down,” he said.
Ms Americana again found herself on all
fours and held down. Despair
flooded
her emotions. Now, she understood she was
soundly, and surely
caught. There would be no escape this time.
Ms Americana and Flag Girl were doomed.
“Bring Flag Twit over here,” Bad Santa
said. “And remove her power belt,
you
morons.”
Flag Girl was forced onto all four in
front of Ms Americana, face to face.
Ms
Americana found herself nose to nose with her ward and sexy sidekick.
Then
the elves ripped off her bikini, and Flag Girl’s micro mini, leaving
both in
nothing but gloves, chokers, boots and masks.
“Time for a Christmas Special, don’t you
think?” Bad Santa said, filled
with
wicked glee.
“What do you mean?” Ms Americana said.
“I was thinking about some hot,
girl-on-girl action,” he said to wild
cheers
from the evil elves. “Or, should I say,
super heroine on super
heroine
action?”
“You pig!” Ms Americana cried.
“Pervert!” Flag Girl said.
“Oh, really? You don’t want to cooperated?”
“Never!
We’ll never do your perverted bidding, Bad Santa,” Ms Americana
snarled. “And know, you will not get away with this. Justice will prevail,
and we
will have our day.”
“Oh, but you are sadly mistaken, Ms
Ameri-Twit,” he said.
With that, Bad Santa folded the shiny
golden power belt and raised it high
above
his head. Ms Americana’s eyes went
wide. She never imagined such a
thing. And the belt swung down.
CRACK!
“Oh!”
And CRACK! went Flag Girl’s power belt
across the teen super heroine’s
shapely
white hiney.
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
“Kiss!” Bad Santa demanded, swinging the
wicked belt again. CRACK!
“Kiss!”
“Okay!” they cried in unison.
“Please stop!” Ms Americana cried, tears
flowing freely down across her
blue
star-spangled mask and cheeks. “Great
Liberty, have mercy!”
“You’re hurting me,” Flag Girl
wailed. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
“You’ll both be good little girls?” Bad
Santa asked, eyes full of wicked
glee.
“Yes.”
“Then start kissing each other,” he
said. “And make it hot, too.”
Both vanquished super heroines licked
their full lips and swallowed hard.
Ms Americana’s
lips parted slightly, as her head tilted to the right. Flag
Girl
followed suit, and both leaned forward.
“Mmmmm,” Ms Americana groaned as their red
lips melted into each other.
Flag
Girl’s lips were full, firm and warm.
She enjoyed the greasy feel of
their
shared lipstick kiss, and pushed into it.
“MMmmmmmmm.”
“I knew they were secretly a couple of
bi-sexual sluts,” Bad Santa said,
grinning. He reached down and pinched Ms Americana’s
erect nipple. “Boy,
is she
hard.”
“And she’s wet, too,” Johnny said,
messaging her twat.
“So is Flag Slut here,” Larry said, finger
fucking Flag Girl.
Soon, both Johnny and Larry mounted the
super heroines and fucked them long
and
hard while everyone watched Ms Americana and Flag Girl kiss and suck on
each
others lips.
It felt sooo, terribly good. Ms Americana couldn’t believe how easy it
was
to obey
their wicked sexual demands. And Flag
Girl kissed so sweetly, so
deliciously. Never had she savored a set of lips, enjoyed
kissing, so much
as now.
Ms Americana pushed her tongue into Flag
Girl’s eager mouth, toying,
teasing. Flag Girl responded enthusiastically.
“Mmmmmm,” they groaned.
The elf fucking her was the best endowed
of the group, with a cock
bordering
a solid foot. And he was using every
inch of it too.
The elf had his own unique stroke. Rammed home, all the way in, hard and
fast,
then slowly out until only the head was inside her, then slam it home
again. Over and over. Ceaseless. Like the waves
in the ocean.
Merciless.
He’s cock whipping me into submission, she
thought. No woman could endure
this
and not be broken. Great Liberty, I’m
doomed.
The thought was too much for her
libido. The near constant tingling she
now
endured turned into that soul searing rush to orgasm. She felt her body
start
to buck, even as her twat muscles squeezed and quivered. And Flag
Girls
too talented lips and tongue stoked her libido far past endurance.
Ms Americana surrendered to the
inevitable, the inescapable.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
Flag Girl quickly followed, with her own
screaming orgasm. And they each
endured
another three orgasm before the elves abusing their pussies shot
their
loads deep inside them.
Once all the elves and Bad Santa had taken
a turn fucking one of the super
heroines’
doggie style, Bad Santa sat in a chair and made Ms Americana crawl
to
him. With his cock out and erect, he
made her kiss it. A long,
lingering
kiss.
“Now, as I recall before bad ole Brenda
Wade escaped, I was about to
titty-fuck
you,” he said. “But instead of me
titty-fucking you, you are
going
to titty-fuck ME. Ho! Ho! Ho!”
“Anything you want, Santa,” Ms Americana
breathed, exhausted.
The defeated and defiled super heroine
moved up close between Bad Santa’s
wide
spread legs. She paused to cup and
lightly squeeze his balls, then
lightly
racked her fingers across the scrotum.
Then, seeing he was fully
erect,
she grabbed her own tits and pulled them wide.
Moving her 44DDs to
either
side of his cock, she pressed them together and started stroking him
with
silky soft, firm breasts.
“Oh, yes!” he cried.
She titty-fucked Bad Santa for a good five
minutes before she felt his cock
stiffening
even more. She increased her
speed. He gasped and clutched at
her
silky black hair.
“Oh, yeah,” she breathed.
“I’m fucking Ms Americana’a giant
titties!” Bad Santa cried. “I’ve
defeated
and tamed the mightiest super heroine of them all!” He gasped, and
suddenly
hot cum strayed her neck and tits. “The
Queen of Justice is tamed
and
claimed! By me!”
After he stopped cumming, Santa made her
lick his cock clean. Then he
called
Flag Girl over to lick the cum off her mentor’s tits and neck, which
made Ms
Americana cum again. Afterwards, he had
Ms Americana roll over onto
her
back and spread her legs wide. Then
Flag Girl was positioned over her,
cum
dripping blonde twat over Ms Americana’s hungry mouth.
“Now, 69 each other,” Bad Santa commanded.
The defeated super heroines didn’t
hesitate. They started licking and
sucking
each other’s sloppy pussies with wild abandon.
The taste was like
Christmas
candy on Ms Americana’s tongue, and to feel Flag Girl’s sexy,
shapely
body react to what she was doing with lips, tongue and fingers sent
a
thrill to her overheated body.
Flag Girl lost herself in Ms Americana’s
pussy very quickly. Within
seconds,
she understood she’d wanted this for years.
Ms Americana used the gloved fingers on
one hand to spread Flag Girl’s
pussy
lips, then pushed the index finger from the other hand up her
sidekick’s
tight asshole. Then, she started
licking Flag Girl’s clit with
firm,
circular motions.
Flag Girl gasped and groan, even bucked a
little. Then she started doing
the
same to Ms Americana. The two sex
crazed women quickly brought each
other
to climaxes, and redoubled their efforts.
They ate each other out
until
the orgasms wore them out, and they passed out in exhaustion.
Bad Santa rolled Flag Girl off Ms
Americana. He pulled off Flag Girl’s
mask,
revealing Lydia, as expected. Then he
removed Ms Americana’s mask.
He then
hung both masks on the Christmas Tree, as well as their costumes.
Ms Americana and Flag Girl were hogtied
and ball-gagged, and tossed naked
into
the back of the van. Next to a gorgeous
redhead, a strawberry blonde
and
brunette twins also hogtied and ball-gagged.
Then Bad Santa and his
elves
went through the mansion and looted it of all easily hawked valuables,
especially
Brenda’s and Lydia’s spectacular jewelry boxes.
Finally, they opened both doors into the
secret Americana room, for the
authorities
to find. Soon, the whole world would
know the truth, but they’d
never
see their beloved Ms Americana and Flag Girl again. Or Brenda Wade
and
Lydia Willis, for that matter.
As they were driving away from Wade Manor,
Bad Santa addressed his evil
elves,
who were in the back molesting their captives.
“My evil elves, this is a Very Merry
Ameri-Christmas, indeed!”
THE END