xmas2016

Author's Note: This second prequel, is the sixth story in the Blue Elf series, which included Yule Spirit and the Blue Elves, Another Blue No??l, The Blue Elves Save Christmas, The Blue Elves Meet Wondysaur. Those stories, in turn, were suggested by a cartoon in my collection A Christmas Surprise done for a Christmas in the last century. A sidelight on the Blue Elves appeared in Yule Eve at Morganna's. Part 1. Ace Reporter, Daisy Dell, along with Betty Yamata, made her first appearance, several years ago in Daisy and the Enemy Agent. Daisy also appeared in the fifth Blue Elf Story. Yes Daisy, there is A Santa Clause. Certain plot elements were suggested by the BBC sitcom, set in Occupied Wartime France, called "A llo, 'Allo.

WARNING: This work contains graphic violence, nudity, rape and other non-consensual, sexual scenes, and many low, smutty, sophomoric, attempts at humor. It is intended for, and should only be read, by mature adults, over the age of twenty-one years.

Elves At War (A Blue Elf Christmas Adventure.)

(gwalb@nycap.rr.com or gwalb@yahoo.com or gwalb10054@gmail.com)

(GW Page at the Valkyrie.)

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It was Christmas Eve, 1942. Despite the year's victories at Midway and El Alamein, and the so far successful, heroic defense of the major Russian Cities, the allies still faced many bleak years of war ahead.

In Washington D. C.:

"Ommigod! That's just what I need!" General Mayhew, snorted. The harried, Domestic Bureau Chief, of the newly formed, Office Of Strategic Services, (OSS) made a gesture toward his nearly bald head, as though to tear out the few remaining strands in frustration. As emergencies kept piling up, his hopes of spending a few Christmas Eve moments with his grandchildren were rapidly evaporating.

The General's secretary had just put an urgent directive straight from the White House, itself, on his desk, ordering him to find the missing Soviet Superheroine October Star. IMMEDIATELY!

The imposing heroic Russian beauty was visiting the United States on a good will tour, and war bond selling campaign, to help cement relations between the uneasy new allies. Daisy Dell, the internationally famous reporter, who was doing wartime PR work for the government, was managing October Star's tour and had disappeared at the same time. Both women had been due to attend a reception at the White House that afternoon, hosted by the First Lady.

"If the Oval Office is so concerned, why don't they have the Secret Service handle it?" General Mayhew fumed." I don't have staff for this horsesh*t! If I know that dizzy slut, Dell, she's probably shacked up somewhere, showing October Star the seamier side of capitalism. Ah nuts! Who do I have available?" Just then, there was a loud commotion outside the General's office.

"Good God! Is that infernal elf back in the office already? I thought sure that last assignment would keep her away until after New Years!"

By some clerical oversight, the overworked, wartime OSS personnel office recruited a Blue Elf, named Malicia, to teach new agents pick-pocketing, breaking and entering, running street corner, con games, black mail and other larcenous skills that would be useful in their new, espionage careers. She was so inspiring a teacher, that the skills she imparted, would provide remunerative post war careers, for some of the best of her pupils.

Malicia also proved extremely useful in "honeytrap" operations. A total lack of any sexual mores, an encyclopedic, hands on, knowledge of every perversion and deviation known, coupled with a deceptively naive, wide-eyed girlish prettiness, made her singularly skillful at seducing and entrapping enemy targets of any age or sexual choice.

"She's only been back in the office ONE morning! Not even that!" The harried General fumed as the racket outside grew even louder.

Despite her seeming advantages as an agent, the elf was far from a team player, and always in hot water. Her first morning back from the field, Malicia had come in very late, as usual, and as usual, without any excuse for her lateness. Now, not even even lunch time yet, and the disruptive elf was already obviously the center of controversy and dissension among the staff.

General Mayhew smiled craftily. "Hmm! Right! Good job for Malicia. One slut to find another! It'll get her out of the Office too, and kill two birds with one stone." The uproar was getting louder. Colonel Mayhew snapped into the intercom to his secretary. "Diana, get that blasted elf in here!"

In mere seconds, the super efficient, Yeoman Prince escorted Malicia into the Office. The Yeoman was thinking. (I suppose I should take a hand finding Red October; she is a colleague, but Heck, Captain Steve is going to be at the office Christmas party this afternoon, and...think I'll ditch these darned ugly glasses, and open the top buttons of my uniform.)

As the Yeoman left, Malicia perched impudently on a corner of the Colonel's littered desk, crossing her legs provocatively. "Whatcha' got Boss?"

"GET DOWN FROM THERE! THIS INSTANT! Stand at attention! AND address me as, 'Sir'." The red faced, military martinet thundered in a voice so intimidating, that the normally irrepressibly insubordinate elf hopped down from the desk.

"Okay, OKAY I can take a hint...Sir..."

General Mayhew very much doubted any hint, short of a sledge hammer to the cranium, could influence Malicia's behavior. On the other hand, he WAS SURE, she would take anything, besides a hint, that wasn't nailed down. He anxiously scanned his desktop, to make sure nothing was missing.

Hearing her new assignment, Malicia snorted "Me? Rescue a superheroine? How'd I ever live that down?" Then she added with a sarcastic smirk. "Hey! What about that wonderful superheroine agent o'yers, Yule Spirit? Ya'd think rescuing another superheroine'd be right up her alley?"

"She's in a deep cover operation." The General replied. "She's working as a waitress in occupied France, in a cafe owned by a French patriot and Resistance Hero called Rene. Her latest exploit was posing for a counterfeit painting of the lost renaissance masterpiece, "The Fallen Madonna...With Big Boobies" to fool the Nazi's. Worked like a charm That's a copy there on the wall."

"Hah hah! Ya gotta be kiddin me! Yulie?... waitin' on tables, serving snails and garlic t'the Gestapo, an' posin' for 'dirty pictures' on the side?" Malicia chortled. "Hey ya finally found her a job she's qualified fer!"

Corporal Spirit is a fine agent." The General muttered, without any notable conviction.

"Course to be nursin' a kid she'd have had t'get knocked up first." Malicia thought, with nasty smirk, as she glanced at the ribald painting. "Can just imagine her at nine months..."

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Still snickering, Malicia added. "Well Boss...er Sir, if I'm gonna do it, I could use some help. How about that new kid in Japanese translation, Betty Yamata? She boards at the' same roomin' house as me. She's a smart girl."

Malicia had taken a rare liking to her fellow tenant. One night at the wartime boarding house dinner of spam stew, Betty confided: "Of course even some other Japanese Americans looked down on us because our family is supposed t'be descended from Mazoku, whatcha'd call Japanese elves with a bad reputation."

"Hah! Put her there, Cousin." Malicia had grinned.

The General frowned. "Agent Yamata? Well we are a little leery assigning her to the field. She was actually working for Japanese Intelligence until Pearl Harbor. When her older brother enlisted in the 442nd Infantry, she allegedly had a change of heart, and came in and gave us a lot of info on jap operations. Still we're not 100% sure of her loyalty."

"Maybe ya could be more sure, if ya hadn't locked up the whole rest of her family, without a trial, in an American Concentration Camp, even though they're 100% loyal Americans."

"Mmmm...Yes. well that was unfortunate." General Mayhew admitted, his face growing even redder than usual, in embarrassment. "We didn't think any of that was necessary, but we had direct orders from the White House. Even that paranoid superpatriot J. Edgar said it was stupid. Well...hmm...all right I'll risk letting Yamata go on the assignment, but you'll have to take full responsibility."

"Yeah, yeah, sure no problemo." Malicia responded, with nonchalant unconcern. Blue elves are always willing to take on responsibility, since they have an uncanny knack of squirming out of any consequences, if things goes wrong.

"We'll need some transportation too." Malicia added.

"Hmm! Well things are tight in the budget; it's the end of the year, but I think I can requisition you a handful of trolley car tokens." The General offered.

"Ya ain't even got no jeep, we can take?"

"Not the way you two maniacs drive. The transport pool blacklisted you."

"Heck! Sideswiping the Secretary o'State's limo, at the front gate to the White House could'a happened to anybody." Malicia shrugged.

"I got an ideer. Yulie can't have taken that reindeer o'hers t'France with her, did she?"

"She did use the beast to smuggle her into France, rather than parachuting in, but a flying reindeer, with a glowing red nose, is somewhat conspicuous in a small French Village. Then there was some unfortunate allegations, that the reindeer nearly raped an escaped British airman disguised as a cow. I'm sure it was all an unfortunate misunderstanding, but the Brits got very huffy about the whole thing. In the interests of Allied solidarity, we asked Corporal Spirit to send the reindeer back to us, for safekeeping. It must have been heartrending for her to part with her crime fighting partner, but being a true patriot, she immediately complied with the request."

Malicia, who knew a little something about the relationship between the Christmas Superheroine, and Jingle Bell, her Wonder Reindeer, snickered. "Yeah I bet it was a big sacrifice for the bimbo to part with her darling sidekick."

"We have him at a nearby cavalry installation, but he's totally unmanageable. No one can get near him. I suppose he's grieving over the separation from Yule Spirit."

"Aw don't worry about him being unmanageable. Us Blue elves are old hands at wranglin' reindeeer. Fact is since all the male elves enlisted...Geez, even my dumb brother-in-law, King Marvin, is peelin' spuds in the Galley of a Destroyer... Hah, hah... his battle station is firing an a a ack-ack gun. Course, his kid Pickelina, could do more damage with her red Ryder BB Gun. Anyways, Santa is so desperate he's taken on girl elves. My sister Sinella's workin' a swing shift on Santa's assembly line, making toy wooden tanks...she says their real crap, but kids got t'make sacrifices in wartime too. Anyways what I was gettin' at is that her two kids, Prunella and Pickelina are managin' Santa's whole reindeer herd for him...'Deerherdesses 'they call themselves...ya oughta' see 'em kids...."

Pointedly looking at his watch, General Mayhew cut off the seemingly endless stream of elfin chatter. "Yes, yes! That's all very interesting, but you should get started, immediately! You can take the reindeer, if you can mange him."

A short time later, with Betty in tow, Malicia headed to pick up Jingle Bell

On the trolley car, Betty, happy to be out of the office, was chattering, excitedly. "Yeah my rep wasn't wasn't bad enough, but I really queered it when I told my boss that all the Naval info we been getting from Lisbon Station lately is cooked, and the weird thing is, not by the Krauts, like ya'd expect, but by Japanese Intel. He said that was nonsense and I was baselessly casting aspersions on the reputations of a heroic American patriot. He's got the hots for that Commnader Ramsey, the Lisbon station chief. Guess he's inta' extra beefy, whey-faced, dishwater blonds with hoity-toity manners. She's a snotty know it all bitch too."

Jingle Bell had recently been moved to a field, far, from the other Cavalry mounts, due to his evil temper, and his aggressive fraternization with the cavalry mares.

"We ain't gonna have none o'that there miscegnationism crap in this outfit, not while I'm Top Kick!" Sergeant Billy Ray Bob Hatfield of Mississippi, intoned pontifically.

At sight of the two girls with a halter in hand, the red nosed reindeer snarled, and lowered his head thrusting his antlers threateningly.

"Cripes, 'Lish! He doesn't look very cooperative." Betty said dubiously.

"Ya just gotta' know how t'handle a reindeer." Malicia grinned, slipping a huge hip flask from beneath her simple elfin attire. Betty looked incredulously at the gallon sized flask, and then at Malicia's very brief, nearly transparent elfin frock.

"It's an elf thing, Kid!" Malicia winked.

"Here Boy! How'd ya like a snort o'prime, 180 proof, Wartberry brandy?"

Jingle Bell sniffed the flask suspiciously, and stuck out his tongue cautiously, tasting a drop of the fiery liquid, with the experienced tongue of a connoisseur. Assured of its quality, he greedily slurped down a sizable slug, before Malicia could get the flask away from him.

"Whoa there, Twinkle Nose. That stuff's lethal."

A short time later, the two girls were aloft, on the back of their new mount. A bleary-eyed Jingle Bell flew even more erratically then usual, gleefully scattering a flock of crows headed toward the incredibly huge, manure pile of the cavalry installation.

Jingle Bell had accepted his part in the mission with surprising willingness. He had grown restive, cut off from female companionship, and subject to strict military discipline.

"Anyways," He thought. "Blue elves are usually good for a laugh. Never know what one'll do next. That lamppost thing was a doozy. Yulie couldn't talk for three days afterward. Only time I've ever known her when she wasn't yammerin'."

Before proceeding, the agents stopped off at their rooming house, only long enough for Betty to slip into her warm, green, winter weight catsuit, having found the back of a flying reindeer in winter, a chilly mode of transportation. Malicia refilled her flask to the brim, and then nonchalantly pulling up her skirt nearly to her armpits, unconcerned that their were no garments beneath it, she wrapped a long blue rope around her waist "Never know when ya'll need a good rope for emergencies."

As they took off from the roof again, Betty said, "So we're supposed t'be lookin for Daisy Dell, and that Russian bimbo that's doing the Bond Tour. They both disappeared together? That's funny I had a little run-in with Daisy before the War. What a dumb floozy!"

"Yeah I met Dizzy Daisy myself, once. Fact is, ya know that Pulitzer Prize she won for that story on Yule Spirit defeating a whole army of evil elves to save a huge Christmas treasure? Well, I was that whole 'elf army' all by myself, and Yulie didn't save the treasure neither; I got away with the whole kit an kaboodle."

The flying reindeer soon reached the last location where Daisy Dell and October Star were seen, and started a search pattern over the area. However they hadn't flown long, when suddenly materializing from nowhere, with a dramatic flash of lighting, and a deafening clap of thunder, they were miraculously intercepted by one of the heavenly host from on high.

"Oh its you Ivy. Thought it was a real angel. What do YOU want?" Malicia sneered, ungraciously.

It was indeed Ivy, the Christmas Angel, herself, in all her heavenly glory.

The Angel sniffed disdainfully, as though her nostrils were assailed by a revolting, unwholesome odor.

"I AM A REAL ANGEL, and as such, it pains me, that duty compels me to converse with such an evil, odious creature as (ugh) a Blue Elf."

"Yep! I bet it does, Cherub Cheeks. Whatch'ya got?" Malicia replied.

"Don't you DARE call me that revolting nickname!" Ivy snapped, irritably glaring at the grinning Elf.

The Angel paused a moment gritting her teeth, before continuing.

"However, I do have information about the whereabouts of Daisy Dell, and that godless, heathen, Russian woman, October Star. Miss Dell prayed for my help. I certainly have no desire to be judgmental, but It does seem to me, that the ungrateful Hussy only prays when she gets into trouble, but, be that as it may, it is Christmas and I AM the Christmas Angel."

"Yeah, yeah, I know yer the Christmas Angel, Ivy. Didn't I offer t'get you a job perched on top of Higby's fifty foot Christmas tree a couple years back?"

With appropriate Angelic dignity, Ivy disdainfully ignored the rude, elfin interruption.

"Yeah, yeah. So what'd Dizzy Daisy pray for?" Malicia demanded. "Spit it out, for the love o'heaven!"

"Fat lot, an evil creature like you would know about the Love of Heaven." Ivy sneered. "Well it seems Miss Dell, and the Russian, were overpowered and kidnapped by a Nazi superwoman called Brutehilda, who has infiltrated this country. The captives are being held at these coordinates, near the coast waiting to be picked up by a German submarine."

Just then, Ivy noticed Jingle Bell tying to insinuate his large, bulbous, red nose beneath the hem of her rather abbreviated angelic robe.

"Oh you odious, degenerate tool of Satan! How dare you try to defile and profane a Holy Angel of the Lord?" Ivy fumed furiously, and righteously smote the brazen reindeer across the snout.

Then, before there could be repercussions, the angle disappeared in another dramatic flash of lightening, and clap of thunder. Perhaps wisely, because Malicia was just imagining what she could do with a bough of Scotch pine, and a Christmas Angel.

After the angel departed, Betty said: "Holy crap, 'Lish, have you ever seen that October Star broad? She's built like a T38 tank, and strong as a rhinoceros. If this Nazi witch overpowered HER, this ain't gonna' be easy."

"Yeah we'll have t'outsmart her. We'll just play it by ear." Malicia said with a twitch of one spectacularly long, elfin ear for emphasis.

"Geez, I hope ya know what yer doing 'Lish." Betty replied dubiously, as she gave the reindeer directions.

How indeed could the vicious Nazi woman have defeated the mighty October Star? It was known that the Soviet Heroine had easily defeated Brutehilda, on more than one occasion. In this latest encounter, though, the Nazi had a new secret weapon.The scientific research center of the superstitious SS Recihsfurhrer Heinrich Himmler had uncovered the secret of an ancient Teutonic artifact, known as the 'Black Breastplate'. The object was said to have been forged by the half mythic Alberich, the chief of the Nibelungen, for a renegade Valkyrie. The SS discovered that if worn by a strong woman of the old Teutonic blood, the breastplate would dramatically increase that strengh, as well as weaken her opponent.

When October Star had spotted Brutehilda surreptitiously heading toward the coast, she immediately recognized her arch-foe, and swooped down to intercept her. Setting Daisy Dell down she confronted the evil Nazi.

"What evil are you up to, in America, Nazi Dog? Whatever it is, Sasha will put stop to it!"

Daisy Dell looked on quivering with gleeful anticipation. "Wow! What luck! What a scoop! I'm going to be the only reporter covering our gallant Soviet ally capturing this dangerous Nazi. Oh Gosh, I hope Sasha beats the stuffing out of her. I smell another Pulitzer!"

But just as October Star was about to seize the Nazi, Brutehilda confidently wheeled, and expertly dealt the Russian a dastardly low blow, with her steel reinforced boot tip.

"Yes Stupid Peasant Sow, things are going to be different this time. Today it is Brutehilda who is stronger." The Nazi bully crowed arrogantly.

The underhanded sneak attack, delivered with crippling force, nearly paralyzed October Star. Now, with the advantage, Brutehilda attacked viciously. She struck the Big Russian Beauty with a left cross that would have pulverized the face of any lesser woman.

Reeling and disoriented, October Star was wide open, and Brutehilda nailed her with a haymaker right, The dynamite punch knocked the huge Soviet Champion completely off her feet.

Daisy Dell gasped in shocked disbelief. The smaller Brutehilda had, unbelievably, knocked the stalwart October Star to the ground, and it had only taken her two punches. Brutehilda stood gloating above the fallen Allied Champion, who was barely conscious, and making no move to regain her feet.

One final, brutally effective, expertly delivered kick to October Star's jaw, ended all hope of her recovering. The kick knocked her flat a on her back, clearly unconscious.

"Ja! This big, dumb ox won't be getting up again, anytime soon." Brutehilda crowed triumphantly.

Daisy looked down in shock. October Star lay deathly still. Only a tiny moan indicated she was still alive. Daisy who had been confidently anticipating the Soviet Heroine's triumph, was aghast at seeing her swift, overwhelming defeat. It took a moment for the astute reporter to appreciate her own terrible danger.

"Ommigod, what am I going to do?" Thought Daisy, as she started running as fast as her long, shapely legs would carry her. Unfortunately for Daisy, the Nazi's short stubby legs moved even faster. In just a few yards, Brutehilda caught the fleeing reporter by the scruff of the neck.

As Daisy desperately tried to wriggle loose, her blouse was ripped from her voluptuous, white, upper body, exposing her lushly rounded breasts to the chill air. Her nipples crinkled in terror, as the Nazi tied her to a nearby tree. Daisy felt like a virgin sacrifice to a some pagan Teutonic deity. (Or would have, if she had actually been a virgin.)

Once Brutehilda secured the shivering, frightened Daisy to the tree, she swiftly returned to the unconscious, moaning form of October Star. She chortled in evil glee.
Now, she would settle several long standing scores against October Star for previous humiliating defeats.

Before the hapless October Star could regain consciousness, the evil Nazi stripped her naked, with a speed that would have done credit to a Blue Elf. Pulling a vicious looking quirt from her boot, Brutehilda painfully hauled the Soviet heroine to her feet by the hair. Suddenly roused by the painful grip, October Star squealed in alarm.

Still groggy from the brutal beating, and now vulnerably naked, October Star was helpless to protect herself, and the vicious Nazi lashed October Star's shapely form, savagely. The beautiful heroine's velvety flesh was soon branded with searing welts. Despite her best efforts, the dauntless heroine couldn't suppress her shrieks of agony, that couldn't quite drown out Brutehilda's cackles of sadistic glee.

Brutehilda mercilessly inflicted the utmost pain to her hated enemy.

The relentless attack inevitably battered the harried Allied heroine to her knees.

Brutehilda continued whipping the screeching October Star, until the valiant heroine was huddled on all fours, helplessly vulnerable to the dastardly Nazi's perverted vengeance.

From seemingly nowhere, Brutehilda produced a huge strap-on dildo, that she swiftly donned. Holding the weakened October Star in an inescapable grip, she wriggled her hips until the awful tool of brutalization, was aimed directly at the victim's anus.

Bracing herself, the sadistic Nazi rammed her super powerful body forward, driving the giant dildo deep into the trapped body of the Soviet Superheroine. October Star roared in horrifying anguish, as the gigantic tool penetrated her helpless body.

As Daisy watched the gruesome violation of the Russian Champion, her compassionate reporter's heart was touched. (Oh poor Sasha! How she must be suffering ...that horrible Nazi is abusing her so vilely...odd though that the Nazi picked that female Mack Truck for sexual exploitation, when I'm her helpless prisoner too...ohh I'd show her how much a brave American woman can endure...makes me feel funny thinking about it...)

As Daisy pictured herself bravely enduring savage, sexual outrages, her eyes glazed, her lips parted and she panted almost like a dog in heat. Daisy tried to still her heaving bosom, by rubbing her ripe, shapely thighs together. (...oh gosh my panties are going to be soaked...)

Was it just possible that Daisy felt a flash of resentful jealousy, that the Russian woman had been chosen for horrific sexual abuse rather than herself? Could it even be true that she was experiencing a forbidden sexual arousal at the awful spectacle? It is to be hoped that no right-thinking, virtuous woman could derive pleasure from the vile spectacle of a comrade being so grossly violated.

Daisy knew she had the fortitude to endure being raped. In the dangerous career of an investigative reporter, she had proven her fortitude by enduring the wanton violation of her chaste body, on more than one occasion. It had even been suggested by some, undoubtedly jealous, colleagues, that she seemed to eagerly throw herself in the way of such dangers. Though she might be all too willing, to display her fortitude, if subjected to another such outrage, the prospect of captivity in a Nazi Concentration Camp was an entirely different matter. That possibility truly terrified her. She continued to pray desperately for deliverance.

Just then, Daisy saw the three rescuers arrive. Mistaking their intent, her heart quailed in despair. "Oh no I should have gone to Church more often. The Nazi has reinforcements. It's that horrible elf girl who stole all my valuable Christmas presents, and then had her evil way with me. Oh Heaven help me! Yule Spirit told me that Blue Elves aren't real elves at all, but the soulless spawn of the evil Orcs of ancient Mordred."

"And oh Dear Sweet Heaven! That's that horrible Japanese Agent behind her on the reindeer. And the reindeer is that filthy, lascivious beast Yule Spirit was riding, the one that piddled on my priceless Persian Carpet. I knew he acted like a Nazi. He must have defected to the Axis, as soon as the War started."

Despite Daisy's worst fears, the Ace Reporter watched in amazement, as Malicia and Betty immediately attacked the Nazi, who barely had time to remove the outsized dildo from her fat thighs in preparation. Although the odds were technically two to one in favor of the OSS agents, their diminutive size was not an encouraging portent of the outcome. Jingle Bell, as a matter of principle,did not normally risk his precious pelt by taking part in physical altercations, as Yule Spirit had often discovered to her chagrin.Though, by nature and conviction, a devoted non-combatant, himself, he always took a sporting interest in a good brawl between others. He decided that if he was a betting reindeer, he would put his money on the formidable Brutehilda, rather than the plucky elf and her equally diminutive partner.

Though they attacked bravely, Malicia and Betty had little success against the super powered, Nazi behemoth. In fact Brutehilda seemed to be toying with her pint-sized foes.

Certain of a quick victory, Brutehilda gloated and taunted her tiny foes. "Our scientists will be glad to get their hands on a pointy eared subhuman dwarf, and on that flying, red-nosed brute for their experiments." She chortled in evil glee.

Hearing Brutehilda's threats to experiment ON him, Jingle Bell gulped at that prospect. This threat put a wholly different, personal perspective on the altercation. He darn well better take a hand, or hoof, in this fracas. The crafty reindeer slyly crept up behind the Nazi, and turning kicked like a mule. It was a trick he learned from a very friendly, and cooperative female Army mule, before he'd been quarantined.

As the Nazi reeled drunkenly from the first kick, Malicia and Betty grabbed on to her, to hold her steady. The Reindeer's success encouraged October Star to

stumble to her feet, and grab the Nazi's other arm. The Russian heroine's solid bulk anchored the struggling Nazi in place. Jingle Bell took careful aim and kicked even harder, landing a mighty hoof on Brutehilda's jaw. Even a supervillainess could not withstand the kick of an enraged Reindeer, and the Nazi slumped helplessly in her captors' grip.

As Brutehilda wobbled, eyes glazed, October Star tore the Black Breastplate from her chest and flung it to the ground

"Da! It is this thing made you strong."

Malicia pulled the blue rope from beneath her elfin frock. "Wartberry vine rope. Nobody gets loose from this stuff," She declared, as she swiftly and expertly bound Brutehilda, while October Star held her powerless, nearly crushing the Nazi's head in the process.

Betty had spied a telephone booth on the nearby deserted, country road, and ran swiftly to report to headquarters. The equally sharp-eyed Jingle Bell spied a Scotch Pine tree, and secured a sturdy bough from it, knowing something of the customs of Blue Elves. He presented it to Malicia as soon as she had tied the Nazi securely.

Still naked, October Star threw her arms around Jingle Bell's neck, and hugged him nearly burying his face in her massive bosom.

"Ah Comrade Hero Reindeer, thank you, thank you! With Big Red Nose, you must be good Communistic like Sasha."

Just as October Star finally let go of the "Hero Reindeer" and started getting dressed, Betty came back from the phone booth, and briefed Malicia.

"Took a while t'get thru'. That place is a madhouse; the office Christmas party's really getting wild. My Boss said he'll send an Army truck out here to pick up Brutehilda, but he wants t'get back t'the party 'cause the General's secretary, that mousy Diana chick, is doin' a strip tease on the General's desk. Sorry we missed that!"

Malicia snickered at Betty's story as she thoughtfully tested the Scotch Pine branch, Jingle Bell had discovered. "Hmm!" She muttered, "That Reindeer knows his stuff. Couldn't have picked better myself."

As Malicia raised the frighteningly bristly, Scotch Pine, Brutehilda tried to flee, but Jingle Bell swiftly cut off her escape, lowering his formidable antlers threateningly.

Malicia more than repaid the Nazi for the vicious whipping of October Star.

Betty had just gotten around to untying Daisy. "This is a switch, huh Dimples? Usually I'm tying you up, not untyin' ya."

Daisy was so avidly watching Malicia's punishment of Brutehilda, that she hardly noticed Betty untying her bonds. Glancing up Betty was appalled at the spectacle.

October Star looked on with a grim smile of approval. When Malicia was finally done, she said. "Da We should have vodka to celebrate victory."

"I ain't got no vodka, but I got some choice wartberry brandy here." Malicia said, proffering her flask, in an unusually generous gesture, for a Blue Elf.

"DA, DA! Wartberry brandy. Better even than vodka! Sasha has not had wartberry brandy since she was girl on collective farm in Siberia." The Soviet behemoth eagerly downed a heroine sized snort.

"To Ivan my boyfriend serving with Heroic Red Army at Stalingrad." Sasha toasted proudly.

Betty managed to down a tiny sip, in honor of her brother, muttering; "Holy crap this stuff smells worse than Saki." She passed the flask quickly back to Malicia.

"Ah what the heck, here's to Marvin. Hope the moron don't shoot himself in the butt with his ack-ack gun." Malicia toasted, and swallowed as much as Sasha.

Malicia hesitated a moment, but then held the flask out to Daisy, who sniffed it daintily, and promptly passed out from the fumes.

October Star looked down, and shrugged in contempt. "Pah! She is decadent, weakling, capitalist lackey. More for us real women. Ha, ha!"

"Da and for brave Reindeer too." She added, as not to be forgotten, Jingle Bell forcefully nosed his way into the group for the next drink.

With no further thought for the recumbent Daisy, the remaining four merry makers continued passing the flask around. While Betty only pretended to drink, Malicia and Jingle Bell each matched the Russian superwoman, drink for drink, and perhaps even managed to swallow marginally more.

Sasha easily outweighed Jingle Bell by several stone, and would have made four of the tiny elfin Malicia. She was renowned for having drunk whole battalions of the Red Army under the table, on numerous occasions. Perhaps she still felt the effects of her encounter with the Nazi, though, because amazingly, contrary to any reasonable expectations, it was Sasha who passed out.

The other three comrades shrugged, and continued singing obscene parodies of sacred holiday favorites. Jingle Bell unable to sing, hummed along enthusiastically, while October Star's loud thunderous snores blended in harmoniously.

In a sweet pure, girlishly innocent soprano, Malicia led off with: "She came upon a dildo huge..."

Next, Betty contributed: "Deck the ho's with pearls and ivory..." a special Christmas favorite at the exclusive Sacred Heart Convent School her parents had wasted a good deal of money to send her to.

epilog

Several months later, in a small-town cafe, in occupied France, the apprentice third waitress known as Zou Zou (a wartime nom de guerre) obtained a tattered copy of a very old English language newspaper. Why am I always the last one to see these? I don't think the other girls like me. I suppose it's my incredibly good looks? Sometimes great beauty is a cross to be borne!"

As she idly turned the pages, Zou zou's eye fell on a story by an old acquaintance, Daisy Dell, filed the day after the previous Christmas.

Hero Reindeer Honored at White House

Daisy Dell

Dateline: Saturday, December 26, 1942. Yesterday, the First Lady of the Land, Mrs Eleanor Roosevelt, held a Christmas afternoon reception, at the White House, to honor the heroic rescuers of October Star, the Soviet Superheroine, and of this reporter, captured together by underhanded Nazi trickery on Christmas Eve. Although two of the rescuers must remain nameless, due to wartime security, this reporter can tell you, that the third rescuer is Jingle Bell, the 'Reindeer of Might'. Mr Bell (or perhaps soon Captain Bell) was formerly associated with a minor, seasonal superheroine called Julie Spirits, but on Thursday, the Hero Reindeer worked solo, needing no help from his former crime fighting partner. (Who some have said may be a detriment to his own career.) The Mighty Reindeer, was no doubt inspired by one of the year's most popular movies "Commandos Strike At Dawn". The commando-like reindeer knocked out the Nazi strong woman, who called herself, "Brutehilda", with one flick of his mighty hoof, displaying all the elan of Mr. Tyrone Power himself, in "The Black Swan". The heroic reindeer's feat was personally, and thrillingly, observed by this reporter. (Yours truly sends a personal big hug and kiss on his red nose to my rescuer!) I am pleased to be able to tell you that thanks to his bravery, the so-called German strong woman is in U. S. custody. The accomplished and versatile reindeer was not only the honoree, but also provided the afternoon's chief entertainment. AS it was Christmas Day, when all creatures can speak, Jingle (Yours truly is proud to claim privilege of being on a first name basis with the Hero of the Hour.) gave voice to a selection of the First Ladies favorite arias in a strong mellow baritone.

Zou Zou (known as Corporal Spirit in official classified records) fumed as she read the article. "'CAPTAIN Bell', 'Julie' Spirits'...'minor seasonal'...'detriment to career'... What career did that miserable, lazy, flea-bitten bag of bones ever have? Oh I could scream! That two face B*TCH! That's the thanks I get, for saving her from a degrading life of white slavery! Ooh I'll tear that slut's hideous, red hair out by the roots, if I ever get my hands on..."

Just then, Madam shouted: "Zou Zou get upstairs and empty Mamon's chamber pot, and be quick, before it overflows."

As Zou Zou stomped angrily up the stairs, Madam muttered: "Oh that girl is the most irritating, laziest, clumsiest numskull around. I suppose Rene only hired her because of those monstrous big boobies."

Perhaps it is just as well that Zou Zou did not see the Sunday edition of the newspaper that featured a picture of Yule Spirit's erstwhile crimefighting partner, being kissed on either side of his red nose by October Star and Daisy Dell, while a beaming First Lady looked on.

Added Christmas Bonus:

A Holiday Surprise.

The short skirt of her severely cut business suit, swished about long elegantly-muscled legs, as the tall tastefully-attired blonde strode purposefully to the entrance of the private auction room. Earlier that afternoon, a private messenger delivered a personal invitation to a "Holiday Superheroine Auction."

"I suppose they're selling some junk, disguised as superheroine memorabilia? Still, maybe I'll check it out. Could be something funny going on." She had decided.

Kara presented the invitation, and an usher escorted her to a seat in the front row. As she sat down, a small dark haired woman slid into the seat beside her.
As the auctioneer approached the podium, Kara idly noticed the woman slide her hand inside her stylish bag and leave it there. Curious, Kara glanced intently at the bag expecting to see into it, but her vision was blocked.

"That's odd. Lead shielding! Wonder what she's up to?" Kara wondered; just then, though, she was distracted, as the auctioneer, began his spiel.

"Ladies and Gentleman, today Lot Number One is a special treat for you devotees of our unique avocation. Lot Number One IS...IS...Get ready for it...IS SUPERWOMAN, America's Beloved, Premier Superheroine. That's right! The one-and-only, original Maid Of Might, herself. I'll start the bidding at $1,000,000."

"Wha..? That's NOT funny! Time to change into uniform, and find out what these jokers are up to. They'll find out it's not nice to fool with the 'Maid of Might'." The irked blonde fumed, as she started to rise from her seat, glancing around for a safe place to switch identity. But as Kara rose, the woman beside her, withdrew her hand from her mysterious bag. Before the svelte blonde realized her vulnerability, the woman snapped a glittering green bracelet on her wrist.

"NO, not..." was the horrified thought as that all too familiar sick weakness spread painfully through her large shapely figure, sapping her strength with dizzying suddenness. Kara sank weakly back into her seat, in shock, clawing uselessly at the unyielding, green metal. A moment later the dark haired woman seized the lapels of Kara's jacket, and jerked the suddenly enfeebled blonde to her feet.

Kara tried to pull loose,... 'mustn't let'... but a hard slap across the face ended hopes of escape. The woman seized the stunned blond's wrist just above the horrible bracelet, and her upper arm above the elbow, viciously bending her arm in a classic 'come-along' hold. "OWWWWW...l-let gooaa..."

The dynamic blond was hardly accustomed to seek help, but in her distress, she cried out involuntarily "St-stop...noaa...l-let me go...help me someone, please..." Instead of help, there were only amused smiles from the audience, as the tiny brunette forcibly propelled the tall, shapely blond up onto the raised dais.

The woman spun Kara around facing the audience. The auctioneer glanced at the tableaux beside him with a sardonic smile, and hissed an aside to the bidders. "Ah, I see my lovely associate has secured 'Lot One' for your inspection. Thank you, my Dear."

"Please...won't someone help me..." Kara implored, but again there were only snickers from the audience. "Shut up, Blondy! Or I'll smack you silly!" The woman snarled, as she jerked Kara's jacket down, immobilizing her arms behind her. Too weak to get loose, Kara was at the woman's mercy as the vicious brunette ripped her blouse open to the waist, exposing a blue tunic emblazoned with a world famous, scarlet icon. Roughly, the woman pulled the tunic up to Kara's throat, brazenly baring the large shapely breasts, beneath. A chill draft from the overhead air conditioning duct stiffened the exquisite nipples to long elegant spikes. At sight of those denuded, mouth-watering treasures, the bidding grew to a feverish intensity.

With a wink to the jaded bidders, the brunette unbuttoned Kara's short skirt and let it fall in a pool about her red shoes.

As the auctioneer closed the bidding at a fabulously large sum, two porters wheeled a large crate onto the dais. A prominent stamp on the side read 'FOR IMMEDIATE DELIVERY- DO NOT OPEN UNTIL XMAS'.

"Pl-plesae...please...oh won't someone help me...for God's sake don't let her do this to me..." Kara wailed plaintively, as the cruel brunette forced her into the lead-lined, coffin-like crate, settling her inside with a demeaning smack to her provocatively rounded backside.

"Settle down Sweetie! No one's going to help you, here."

As the lid slammed shut, Kara's last sight was her evil abductor's triumphant grin.

NO! NO! She was TRAPPED! DAMNED to the grim darkness of the crypt, for long days and nights, all the while suffering the hellish torment of the green bracelet, until release subjected her to a hideous, degrading sexual servitude to some bestial pervert. Frightened wails became ear-shattering, mindless shrieks of claustrophobic horror.

With a satisfied smirk, the brunette nailed the crate shut, muting the heart-rending cries from within, callously finalizing the virtual entombment of her beautiful victim.

"That was sooo easy! I swear! Superheroines are dumber than dirt. They all must have lined up for big boobs, when brains got handed out." She mused, as the crate was wheeled away. Her mind already on future plans, the evil, little female idly picked up the discarded skirt and absentmindedly chucked it into a trash receptacle. "Now, lets see... Mmm! I think that overblown Amazon Princess should fetch a handsome sum at our New Year's event, next week and that enormous green monstrosity will be tres apropos for the 'Prima Verde' spring sale."