A Super-Heroine Thanksgiving

- by Violator

For the second time I’m taking a little break from the Impostor storyline for a short seasonal tale. Don’t worry – Danger Geek will be back shortly. This one features the regular version. So… how do you make Thanksgiving porn? Well, what is Thanksgiving about, really? There’s all that Pilgrims and Indians shit, and maybe someday I’ll try to do a time travel story playing with that where Ms. Americana gets nailed by Squanto or something. But really, Thanksgiving is about cooking, and drinking, and eating. So, so is this story. All characters in this one are property of Mr. X. Bon appetit. Hit END for a short summary.

“I still can’t believe you expect us to do this,” Ms. Americana said.

The Geek grinned. The mighty buxom beauty stood before him in his lair, flanked by three of her fellow heroines. Her tiny scoop-front bikini panties and gigantic-cupped bra both strained to contain her sleek yet ample curves, all of which jiggled before him delectably. To either side, the bodies of Got Gal, Alpha Woman, and Omega Woman were every bit as sumptuous, and every bit as well displayed. He was particularly fond of how their giant fat breasts all jostled together in their straining bras, deliciously.

Still grinning and letting his gaze traipse leisurely up and down her, the Geek smirked and shrugged.

“Look,” he said, “if you want Flag Girl to survive to see her next Thanksgiving… at least, outside the harem of a drug lord’s palace…” He let the thought trail off, leaving the rest to the heroine’s imagination.

Ms. Americana gasped. Then she glared, her gloved hands trembling to either side of her tiny swooping panties.

“V-very well!” she hissed. “We will do what you ask!”

“Just be glad your little scheme doesn’t require us to actually have sex with you!” Omega Woman growled, hands twitching upon her buxom hip.

“For that,” Got Gal cooed, “would be a deal-breaker!”

“Even for Flag Girl!” Alpha Woman said, sneering. “Better her pussy suffer that, than ours!”

The Geek’s face flickered momentarily at their veiled insults to his manhood, but in moments his sneer returned. “Just put ‘em on, ladies,” he cooed.

The four heroines gasped. Then, blushing slightly, they bent low before him, huge breasts hanging down and jostling beautifully before his leering face… and picked up the little aprons he had just tossed at their feet. They stood up, holding them. Their blushes deepened, and they glared at him.

“For the record,” Alpha Woman hissed, waving her little apron back and forth angrily beside her spectacular buxom charms, “we do this under protest!” Clutched in her trembling hand hers was black, and decorated with white lace, in the classic Little French Maid style.

“Naturally,” the Geek purred. “Now stop stalling and get em’ on, ladies!”

The heroines’ sultry lips trembled, defiantly. Then slowly, gasping and blushing but nevertheless obeying, they slid the aprons up and around their curvy bodies, and put them on. The tiny bibs of the aprons soon strained outwards up top under the pressure of their huge jiggling breasts, too small to cover any of the tender nipples that projected visibly through each and every heroine’s bra-cups. Down below, meanwhile, the little skirts of the aprons just failed to cover the crotches of each heroine’s proud skimpy panties.

“Does this please you villain?” Ms. Americana hissed, as she tied the straps behind her narrow and muscular waist… her huge tits shaking free and unobstructed inside the bib in front as she did so. Hers, though mostly white, had some homey patriotic accents upon the bib and skirt. “Does it arouse you, to see us of all women dressed as your servants?”

“Yep,” the Geek grinned. Reaching down he openly stroked himself through his pants as they finished. Beautiful heads tilting back in outrage they gasped and glared at him, impotently.

“For the record,” Got Gal hissed, glaring at him with her hands on her now aproned hips. Hers was red and said ‘Kiss the Cook’ in white across her giant tits. Her tiny white panties peeked out an inch or two, teasingly, beneath her apron’s wavy little skirt. “You… you will never get away with this. You may be having your fun now, but super-heroines always win in the end!”

The Geek smirked by way of reply. “Just get your fat asses in the kitchen where they belong, sluts,” he said.

They gasped. Then, sending glares of outrage his way, the four gorgeous and voluptuous females nevertheless turned and, huge tits swaying ponderously beneath their aprons, strutted through the door behind him, and into his kitchen. Fanning out across the large, modern, stainless-steel kitchen of his hidden base, they began, as ordered, to cook.

Ms. Americana took the turkey, bending over and wiggling as she prepped it. As she did so her huge ass lifted up, framed by the tied bow and hanging skirt of the apron, and swayed deliciously.

Alpha Woman took up the mashed potatoes and the gravy. Standing over a pot she pounded and stirred, her huge breasts shaking like giant globes beneath her straining bra and lacy black apron bib.

Omega Woman set to work on the stuffing, gathering together giblets and vegetables and starting to chop. She blushed slightly, her spectacular panty-clad ass wiggling in humiliation behind her tiny white apron, as she did so.

Got Gal set about preparing the side dishes, mashing fresh cranberries and cutting open yams. Both her ass and her breasts wobbled beautifully as she mashed, shaking like jelly beneath her white bra and her straining red apron.

Grinning, the Geek leaned against the doorframe and watched. The sight of the four buxom, proud, and mighty creatures jiggling about in his kitchen, gasping and blushing in outrage, and acting like his domestic help made his dick throb wildly in his pants. Soon he could not help himself and, coming forward, began to play with their bodies.

Busy ladling some sauce from one pot to another, Alpha Woman gasped as his hands suddenly reached around from behind her and began squeezing and stroking her tits. “You… you had better stop that!” she hissed, hands holding the pot and spoon trembling, “or I’m liable to spill this everywhere!”

“That’s your problem, sugar-tits,” he purred as his hands slipped under her tiny bra, slid up, and tweaked her huge yet delicate nipples. Alpha Woman gasped… but, though her hands shook, managed not to spill a drop.

Then he left Alpha Woman alone, as Ms. Americana was just opening up the oven to put in the turkey. He waited behind her, and when she bent low to put it in he slapped both hands down upon her buns, hard enough to leave pink marks.

“Gotcha, bitch!” he laughed, and squeezed.

Ms. Americana gasped, tottering with her bird. “Un-unhand me, miscreant!” she commanded.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said, stroking her giant yet perfectly rounded ass.

Americana gasped. But, with no choice, she obediently bent over to put the bird in the oven. The Geek waited until she was bent as low as she would go and then, grinning, slid his hand up into the back of her tiny thong. Ms. Americana gasped as her thong was suddenly pulled waaaay away from her ass. The Geek admired the view and then, with a flick of his finger, let it snap back into place with a thunderous “Thwack!”

Ms. Americana squealed, her ass shaking and wiggle as she got spanked by her own panties.

“You know you like it, slut,” he purred down at her, watching her ass wiggle.

Then he turned, and spied Got Gal. Bent over slightly as she chopped up sweet potatoes, the lusciously rounded blonde was giving him a perfect view of her little white mound, peeking at him from between her mighty thighs and beneath her awesome buns. Grinning, he slid his hand down between her thighs and suddenly ambushed her, stroking her delicate panty-clad mound from behind.

“Oh! My Goodness!” Got Gal gasped, as his finger stroked her pussy through her thin satin panties. “Stop that!”

“You know you want it, slut” he purred and then, giving her quivering panty-sheathed mound one last long cruel stroke, he departed, leaving her voluptuous fertile ass wiggling at the memory of his caress.

Fortunately for the heroines’ bodies at that moment a sing song note sounded over the base PA system. “They’re here!” the Geek crowed. Leaving the heroines to complete their work, he strutted out through the kitchen door.

Then, a few seconds later, he leaned his head back in around the frame.

“Oh, by the way, ladies,” he cooed, his eyes half lidded. “My robots holding Flag Girl know what to do if they don’t get my signal… so don’t even think of drugging our food or some shit.”

Americana gasped. She had been caught standing beside Alpha Woman, her hand over the latter’s gravy, a tiny black vial poised in her fingers over the pot. Her hand trembled, briefly, some dark fluid sloshing within the vial. Then, slowly, blushing, she slid the tiny vial back down and tucked it back down between her gigantic breasts and tried to pretend it had never been there.

Grinning smugly, the Geek swooped back out the door. Strutting through the dining room, he came to the well-armored outer door of his hidden fortress. A few sweeps of a retinal scanner later it whooshed aside to reveal the interior of a dark and abandoned warehouse.

Three villains waited at the entrance to the Geek’s secret underground base.

“Hey, lil’ dude,” the Aberration said. He lifted up a clinking twelve-pack in each huge green paw. “I brought beer.”

“And wine,” Captain K.O. said, hefting a very expensive bottle of red. He hadn’t had to actually buy it of course, but had left the cute shop-girl a nice tip anyways, deep down her pretty throat.

“And liquor,” Dr. Terror said. With one of his trademark mechanical arms, he hefted up a very pricy bottle of single malt on one side, and a bottle of tequila plus the fixings for margaritas on the other. He hadn’t paid for his either, of course, though he’d also left a nice tip in his athletic shop-girl’s ass.

“Come in, come in,” the Geek purred, ushering them inside. “We have a very special treat, this Thanksgiving,” he said, smirking. He ushered them into the dining room. Captain K.O. sat in the seat facing the kitchen door, while the Aberration and Dr. Terror sat to either side, their chairs creaking under them as their weight settled. The Geek, grinning, sat in the chair with his back to the kitchen door.

“Ready?” he called back, in an airy sing-song voice.

“R-ready…” came the trembling, half-whispered female reply.

Around the table his guests’ muscles tensed slightly, and their fingers twitched. They could have been certain they recognized that voice.

‘It… it couldn’t be…’ Dr. Terror muttered, softly.

“Then come on in, bitches!” the Geek purred, smirking.

Slowly, her buxom body strutting smoothly, the hourglass form of Ms. Americana sauntered through the door behind him. The villains’ eyes went wide as the saucers, and their jaws tumbled open in shocked yelps. With sharp creaks of chair-legs on metal, the Aberration and Captain K.O. both jerked halfway up their feet, in momentary panic.

Then they froze. Their eyes bugged out, as all three of his guests slowly realized that instead of charging down to apprehend them the buxom heroine stood, blushing, before them… a skimpy apron stretched across her busty curves, and holding up a huge covered silver platter between her trembling gloved hands.

Behind her, cheeks bright pink beneath their masks and buxom bodies sauntering slowly, Got Gal, Omega Woman, and Alpha Woman all emerged one by one, carrying their dishes as well. The villains gaped in awe… and then slowly their lips twisted up into leers. Smirking, they sank back down into their seats.

“C’mon bitches,” the Geek purred, gloating. “Serve us! Let us enjoy you doing some proper women’s work, for a change!”

The heroines breathed deep, huge breasts sloshing inside their aprons and above their steaming dishes. Their beautiful faces flickered with offense, at his words and his tone. But they had no choice. Slowly, one by one, with soft sighs, their buxom bodies obediently sauntered forward.

Got Gal came first. Leaning down beside the Aberration, she lay a big bowl of fresh cranberry sauce and another of steaming mashed yams upon the table. Grinning, as she did so, the Aberration snuck a hand up and goosed her awesomely rounded ass. Got Gal squeaked, and quivered under his caress… but, blushing, continued to lower her dishes. Then she backed up, and rubbed her ass meekly.

Next came Omega Woman. Strutting up around Captain K.O., she leaned way in over the table and deposited a huge bowl of steaming stuffing beside him. As she did so, the leering villain snuck a finger up and goosed her pussy. Omega Woman gasped, her huge breasts jiggling before the whole table as her body wiggled helplessly at his touch. But, with no more objection than a soft gasp, her voluptuous hips squirming with the ghost-like memory of his touch, she too backed up.

Next came Alpha Woman. Coming up beside Dr. Terror, she slowly lowered a huge bowl of steaming mashed potatoes beside him with one hand, and a gravy boat with the other. As she did so, the villain used one of his little whirring mechanical arms to seize and lift the skirt of her apron, and leered down at the skimpy panty-clad crotch beneath. “Nice,” he purred. Reaching out with his own hand, he slid a single finger teasingly across her crotch.

Alpha Woman gasped, and wiggled. “S-stop that!” she hissed. But she could make no other move to defend herself and, as the villain’s finger insolently stroked back across her, her trembling hands slowly lowered both the potatoes and gravy boat to the table. Gasping, she backed up as fast as possible, body jiggling pneumatically with her haste.

Finally, Ms. Americana’s scantily-clad hip sauntered with buxom grace around the Geek and, leaning forward, she laid her prize roast turkey in pride of place at the very center of the table. Grinning, as she did so, the Geek snuck two fingers right up between her legs and, suddenly peeling up and jerking aside the crotch of her tiny panties with one, sent the other, his middle, plunging deep up inside her drooling quivering cunt.

“Oh! Great Justice!” Ms. Americana cried, as his insolent finger slid deep up into her. The hands holding the turkey trembled, and the great bird rocked violently back and forth above the table, along with her shaking bra-straining tits. “S-stop that!” she gasped.

“Just showing my appreciation, sugar tits,” he purred… and, having withdrawn to tease just her outer folds with his fingertip, responded to her imperious command by slamming back up into her a second time.

Americana moaned, as his finger penetrated her deep. But, buxom hips shaking around his invasion, unable to do anything about it, she kept her face and trembling body under as much control as possible and slowly lowered the quaking turkey to the table. Then, standing up with a gasp she backed her big invaded ass up as fast as possible, forcing his damp fingers to slurp out and away around her departing thigh.

“Alright guys, ready to say grace?” the Geek asked.

“Yep,” the Aberration purred.

“What are we thankful for?” the Geek asked.

At once and as one, the villains all happily cackled, “PUSSY!!!”

Then, diving down onto the waiting and lovingly heroine-prepared dishes, they began aggressively spooning ladle-fulls of food onto their empty plates.

The heroines gasped, standing in a quivering line, their blushes deepening. Then, slowly, her face twisting petulantly, Ms. Americana lifted her chin.

“Well,” she said, haughtily, hands upon her hips, “if you don’t need us, we’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”

They turned to start to go. But the Geek stopped them.

“Not so fast ladies,” he purred. Turning round, lips already stained by the mashed potatoes he was talking through, he gulped them down and leered. “Aren’t you… forgetting something?” His gravy-stained lips twisted up into a huge smirk. “Don’t you want your Thanksgiving meal too?” he purred.

The heroines gasped, and squirmed. They had been hoping he had forgotten.

Americana turned back to face him. “I… I thought you were joking…” she said, hands trembling upon her hips.

The Geek growled. Reaching down he seized up a gleaming chromed spatula and, swinging it around behind her, used it to swat her, hard, upon her buxom ass. Americana gasped, her hands rising up from her quivering hips in shock and her whole body trembling under the blow. Behind her the other three heroines gasped, eyes wide with shock, as they saw him spank her.

“What the FUCK made you think that?!” he snarled at her.

Americana gaped at him. Somehow, she had never seen the Geek like she was seeing him now. She rubbed her stinging ass with one hand, while the other pressed to her masked cheek. Then, slowly, she bowed her head. “Yes, master,” she sighed. “We… will… have our Thanksgiving meals too, after all.”

Then, slowly, trembling, as one, the buxom beauties sank to their knees… and crawled forward.

The gulping gluttonous villains chuckled with glee, through their food, as they watched the voluptuous and scantily-clad heroines crawl, slowly, up under the table. Then, a few seconds later, they squirmed their hips a little and grinned in anticipation, as the sound of four zippers slowly being undone echoed from underneath the food-laden table.

Four gasps, of soft and stunned female awe, slowly sounded.

“My… my Goddess…” Got Gal moaned.

“They’re all… so big…” Alpha Woman whispered, her voice trembling.

Up top, the Geek sneered. “It’s Thanksgiving,” he purred down at them. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint. Around him the villains leered and grinned.

The heroines whimpered, squirming upon their knees. But, lips quivering hungrily, they could not resist. One by one, they craned their beautiful heads forward. Slowly, from below the smirking villains’ waists, the sounds of wet slurping echoed… and then steadily became louder and faster as the heroines dug into their long and meaty meals.

“Oooh, yeah…” the Aberration purred, hips wiggling with pleasure. He took a bite of Alpha Woman’s delicious mashed potatoes, as down below her quivering lips eagerly slurped up and down his enormous green penis. Based on how eagerly she was taking it down, she seemed to find him just as delicious.

“Shiiit…” Captain K.O. moaned, head rolling in awe, as he savored the flavors of Got Gal’s cranberries above, and her swirling tongue below.

“God…. DAMN!” Dr. Terror hissed, his body shivering, as he swallowed some of Omega Woman’s stuffing down his gullet… and she eagerly did the same to his giant penis.

“Mmm… best Thanksgiving… ever!” the Geek purred, as Ms. Americana slurped vigorously up and down his long cock. He had developed a special serum, just for her, that meant the lucky heroine had twice as much to gulp down as she otherwise would have gotten to enjoy. It wouldn’t do to skimp on her portions after all her hard work, after all. Whimpering in awe as he slid deep down her throat, her lips quivering just above his balls, the Queen of Justice seemed to appreciate his generosity mightily, down between her squirming thighs.

On and on the heroines sucked, while the villains eagerly enjoyed their repast above. Then, after a few minutes, the Geek glanced down at his shirt, noticed a stain… and smirked.

“You forgot something, heroines!” he called down to their kneeling, slurping foes.

Beneath the table the heroines whimpered, and wiggled upon their knees… but, unsure what he was talking about and minds reeling at the cocks flying through their heads, they made no other move to respond.

The Geek grinned, and gave them a reminder. “Our bibs?” he suggested.

At this the heroines all moaned at once, in shock, into their huge mouth-plugging Thanksgiving feasts. But, blushing, they had no choice but to obey. Leaning around the table the villains watched, leering as, only faintly visible in the shadowy spaces beneath them, all four heroines’ hands slowly slid back and up behind their backs. A little wiggling and jiggling ensued. The little vial of drugs Ms. Americana had brought in, with which to try and betray the Geek, fell out of her cleavage and rolled away, tinkling, across the floor, to lie uselessly beneath her vast shaking tits.

Slowly four trembling and gloved female hands slowly rose up past the edge of the table… each one holding an empty, dangling, and gargantuan-cupped bra.

Grinning, the villains happily plucked the offered favors from the heroines’ fingers, and tied them about their necks. Soon, if they dripped any of the heroines’ marvelous dishes down while stuffing themselves – which they did frequently, eating like savages – the excess stained the huge cups that had once proudly protected the heroines’ breasts, as opposed to their own evil uniforms. Meanwhile, grinning, Dr. Terror used one of his arms to lift up the edge of the table-cloth and leered, as he got a better view of the unleashed wonders that now jiggled about below.

But the Geek was not yet done with his servants. “That’s nice, sluts,” he purred, grinning with Ms. Americana’s huge bra hanging down on his chest. “But I think you’re forgetting one more thing.” He waited a second, enjoying their ongoing and humiliated slurping, and then gently reminded them, “Our napkins?”

At this a second moan of shock and humiliation, twice as loud as the first, broke from beneath the table. But, slurping away eagerly, the heroines were in no position to resist. Grinning, the villains all now lifted up the edge of the table-cloth and peeked underneath watching, eagerly, as with trembling hands one heroine after another slowly slid her own tiny panties down and over her buxom kneeling hips. Soon, once more, four trembling heroine hands reached up from under the table… each one now dangling, instead of a bra, her own skimpy, sleek, and proud super-heroine panties.

“Thanks, sluts!” the villains laughed. And, snatching their foes’ panties away, they happily wiped their filthy lips with them, and then folded the stained and tiny garments underneath their forks for frequent future use. Sinking back down onto all fours and continuing to slurp their huge throbbing meals, the heroines whimpered… and had not choice save to suck deeper.

Conversation resumed. As they stuffed themselves, and the kneeling heroines below helplessly did the same, the villains discussed old scores, old conquests, and various other topics. Naturally, the topic of anything they had ever done to, or any way they had ever been wronged by, the luscious champions of virtue now sucking their dicks came up frequently. At each mention of them, the slurping heroines moaned, squirmed… and, left with no choice, lips trembling upon their gorgeous bobbing faces, continued obediently to suck.

Finally, smirking, as the meal was tapering down, the Geek brought up a new topic. “So,” he purred, “you guys all smear that stuff I sent you on your dicks, before you came?”

“Yep,” the Aberration grinned.

“I was a little skeptical,” Captain K.O. admitted… looking extremely relaxed as he sat back with a fully belly and a twitching well-serviced heroine-swaddled cock. “But I did it.”

“Me too,” Dr. Terror said. “What was that stuff?”

The Geek grinned. “Oh, just a little extra flavoring for our lady guests, to make their meal special,” he said, gesturing casually down below the table, from which slurps and pops and smacks of eager dick-eating continued to issue. The villains had all grown full, while the heroines appeared, if anything, more ravenous than ever. Then, slowly, the Geek’s grin broadened into an evil sneer.

“And a powerful female aphrodisiac,” he purred.

Beneath him, the heroines whimpered. They had tasted the slightly odd tang upon each of the villain’s cocks… but each heroine, thinking it but a weird male product her particular villain was wearing, had swiftly thought nothing of it as she hungrily slurped away. But by now, it was far too late. Already, every single heroine was already letting her fingers creep up between her spread, kneeling thighs. With soft moans, as one, they gave in. Soon, above them, as they still got eagerly sucked, the leering villains heard the distinctive ‘Shck! Schlick! Shlik!” noise as four heroine fingers began eager and brutally pumping inside their own drooling, sopping pussies.

Grinning, the Geek slowly lifted his gaze up from the schlick-echoing table, back to his guests.

“Ready for dessert?” he laughed. “I’m afraid I don’t have pie.” His grin broadened. “So the only thing on the menu hot raw monkey sex, in unprotected heroine pussy!”

The villains leered. “Absolutely!” the Aberration laughed.

Below, the heroines moaned… and, lips slurping furiously up and down the huge throbbing dicks they knew were about to invade them, their fingers began to blur within their hungry pussies as they began to ache to be fucked.

Many, many, long sweaty moaning hours later…

“Ahhh…” the Geek sighed.

It was Black Friday afternoon, but none of the villains had felt like going out. They lay slumped across the huge couch, in the TV room of the Geek’s hideout. Around them, scattered everywhere, were heroine bras, panties, boots, gloves, and masks, and their rapidly-discarded aprons – all of them splattered and streaked with villain cum.

Three huge screens were arrayed before them. Upon one, to the Geek’s left, the Aberration was watching the game. He sat back and smirked, lazily. Kneeling on all fours before him, Got Gal whimpered and gasped as she eagerly pounded her buxom jiggling ass upon his long green cock. Her hands and feet were bound, but this didn’t seem to reduce in any way the energy and enthusiasm with which she slammed her ravaged asshole up and down his gargantuan dick.

On the right-hand screen, smirking and holding the remote, Dr. Terror was eagerly reviewing the immense amount of footage the Geek’s various hidden cameras had recorded of the heroines’ service the night before. He scrolled back to watch one shot of the heroines’ laboring away buxomly in the kitchen, aprons swirling inadequately around their ample charms, for the fourth consecutive time, and cackled in amused glee. Wrapped tight against him, her head upon his shoulder so she did not block his view and her huge breasts pressed to his chest, Omega Woman whimpered in awe as she pounded her own buxom hips, impaled via her pussy, up and down his long cock. She was un-bound but a special shock collar, fitted to her by the Geek, ensured she would never get far… not that she appeared to have any desire to get further than the tip of her current lover’s penis.

Over in a corner, Captain K.O. and his paramour of the moment, Alpha Woman, were so utterly exhausted by their eighth consecutive fuck that they both appeared to be sleeping. The only clue they weren’t was that the villain’s hand, wrapped around her huge and naked left jug, occasionally gave it a mocking squeeze. The gorgeous redhead was bereft of her tiara, and also collared. But it didn’t seem entirely necessary since each time he squeezed her tit, the gorgeous MILF lifted her face and, lips trembling, rewarded him with an adoring smooch upon his cheek.

Meanwhile, sitting in the center of the giant couch and using the central enormous screen, the Geek was lifting and thrashing about a controller as he played with his X-box. He snarled in frustration, as a brief bob of raven-black and tiara-crowned hair up into his field of view almost caused him to miss his shot.

“Keep out of the way, slut!” he snapped as, not looking away from the screen for a second, he didn’t wait to watch his latest victim crumple and instead swiftly whirled about and looked for another enemy to own.

Kneeling at his feet, wrists and ankles both shackled and without her belt, Ms. Americana whimpered… but, sinking her gorgeous head down slowly, obediently started sucking his big dick further down her gullet so that she didn’t interfere with his game.

The Geek smirked, despite himself… and, hissing with pleasure, easily gunned down another foe.

“So what do you think boys?” he asked, as Ms. Americana deep-throated his dick, her hot glorious cavity squeezing worshipfully around his thick girth. “Best Thanksgiving ever?”

The rest of the villains all happily cackled, over the jiggling bodies of their buxom, worshipful former rivals.

“Best Thanksgiving Ever!” they all agreed, and then let out a loud, long, evil laugh.

SUMMARY: The Geek uses blackmail to force four heroines to prepare and serve him a Thanksgiving meal. They agree, since his plan does not require them to have sex. He toys with them as they cook his dinner, wearing tiny aprons over their bikinis, and then greets his three criminal guests at the door. They sit down, and the heroines serve… getting goosed in the process. Then the heroines crawl under the table, to get their own meals. Finally, from beneath the table, humiliated, they lift up first their bras and then their panties, to serve as the villains’ bibs and napkins respectively. A great feast is consumed, both above and below the table, but eventually the villains are full while the heroines continue to dine seemingly even more ravenously than before. Grinning, the Geek reveals that the ointment he sent each villain to put on his dick in advance was an aphrodisiac… which the heroines have now eagerly consumed. The heroines moan but, as they each start to play with their pussies beneath the table, can no longer resist. Dessert, in the form of their bodies, is soon served. The next day the villains lie slumped and satisfied in front of the television set… while the heroines continue to eagerly take Thanksgiving left-overs up their asses, throats, and pussies.