




                         ORNAMENTS

                            by  

                          Joe Doe


A VISIT FROM THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST, AS VARIOUS JOE DOE 
HEROINES REMINISCE AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE.


Part 1

The desk sergeant smiled as the familiar figure of Supergirl 
entered the station.  She was dragging one of the city's most 
wanted criminals in by the scruff of his neck, but the desk 
sergeant's eyes were focused on Supergirl's long slender legs.

She tried not to look at the enormous Christmas tree next to the 
sergeant's desk.  But she knew the ornament was there.  Despite 
her best efforts her eyes were drawn to a large ornament on the 
front of the tree.

The ornament showed a beautiful woman with long blond hair.  
She was tightly bound in a white canvas straight jacket.  The 
girl was naked from the waist down, as the ornament twirled in 
the breeze you could see that the straitjacket's crotch strap 
separated the kneeling bulbous buttocks and barely covered her 
shaved sex.

The blonde bimbo in the straitjacket was the spitting image of 
Supergirl.

"This is Jackson Walters, of the Walters drug cartel," Supergirl 
said.  "If you search him I think you'll find quite a bit of 
cocaine in his vest."

"I'd rather search you," the sergeant chuckled.  "Say, speaking 
of searches, you were searched pretty thoroughly that time they 
chucked you in the loony bin, weren't you?  Word is some of those 
orderlies gave you a pretty rough time."

"Uh...they thought I was a mental patient," Supergirl muttered.

"That must have been pretty humiliating," the sergeant said.  "I 
mean, a big powerful superhero like you having to bend and spread 
so some minimum wage bed pan scrubber could give you the finger."

"I bet you she looked real sweet while she was doing her squats," 
the sleazy criminal added, joining in on the fun.

"You know, if you want to turn in those cute little red underpants 
of yours, I'm sure some of the boys would be happy to give you a 
quick run through -- for old times sake."

The blushing superhero ignored the lascivious laughter of the desk 
sergeant and the criminal as she dragged the captive towards the 
cellblock.  But as she moved the scumbag through processing her 
super-hearing allowed her to listen to the staff's endless locker 
room conversations.

"It's appropriate she's on her knees.  I heard she sucked quite a 
few ding dongs while she was in there."

"It's not like she had any choice.  If she didn't swirl her pretty 
little tongue around just right, they'd strap her down for shock 
therapy."

"Yeah, I heard that's pretty rough.  At one point they had to 
diaper her."

"I wouldn't mind rubbing baby lotion on that little fanny."

The laughter burned in Supergirl's ears as she threw the criminal 
in his cell.

"I'm 35 years old; I'm a woman, not a girl," Supergirl thought as 
she flew back to her apartment.  But she had given up objecting.  
Now that the ornaments were out her "partners" in blue were once 
again referring to her as "Supergirl."

Supergirl flew in her bedroom window and closed the bedroom 
drapes.  Her entry was too fast for the human eye too see -- 
her secret identity would be safe.

But she was also anxious to conceal the growing wet spot in 
the crotch of her red underpants.

Supergirl lay on the bed and began stroking her wet sex.  She knew 
that she shouldn't touch herself -- good girls didn't do things 
like that.  Her mind drifted back to another day, long ago, when 
two orderlies had caught little Kaira in the forbidden act of 
self-pleasure.  The grinning buffoons had grabbed her by the arms 
and dragged her into the crowded hallway.

Little Kaira was naked from the waist down, and the juices of her 
shaved sex glistened in the fluorescent light.  The head nurse had 
smiled cruelly as the naked Kaira was dragged before her desk to 
await judgment.

"We caught the little slut diddling herself," one of the orderlies 
said.

"Yeah, look at how juicy she is.  She's dribbling on the floor!"

"Juicy little minx, isn't she?" the head nurse chortled.  "Tie 
her hands over the pipe in the corner.  Doctor's at lunch now, 
but I'm sure he'll want to tan her little buns when he gets back."

Supergirl masturbated herself slowly as she imagined herself 
hanging over the steam pipe with the cheap plastic cuffs biting 
into her wrists.  She swung back and forth helplessly, her toes 
barely touching the ground, and she struggled to find a 
comfortable position.

Her pointy nipples pressed through the thin fabric of her cheap 
t-shirt.  When Kaira begged the crone-like nurse for pants, she 
had just laughed.

"I don't want you to stain a gown," the nurse had cackled.  
"We'll just hang you up to dry, for one and all to see."

One and all did see.  The nurses...the male orderlies...other 
patients...the UPS man...the grinning janitor.  Despite her 
humiliation, their degrading comments made her wetter and wetter.

Supergirl exploded into orgasm as she remembered the way the old 
Mexican janitor had slipped his fingers between her legs for a 
quick feel.

She lay on her bed for several minutes, exhausted.  She had heard 
that an ornament had been delivered to every station in the city, 
and she still had a long night ahead of her.

		******************************    

Supergirl blushed as she pushed the mugger through the doors of 
the 87th precinct.  Although she had just captured the mugger who 
had terrorized the city, she could feel every cop's eyes glued to 
her long slender legs and her hot red panties.

She ignored their sneers and leering comments.  But, most of all, 
she ignored the ornament of a straitjacketed blonde that was 
prominently displayed on the precinct's tree....

		******************************       

Part 2

"I have to say that I'm quite impressed with your assistant's 
work.  Without her, help my business never would have been able 
to get that government loan."

Steve smiled as his assistant, Brenda, basked in the customer's 
praise.  Perhaps she was thinking of making a comeback.

Not a chance.

"Did you see our Christmas tree?" Steve asked, leading Mr. Gilbert 
out into the lobby.  "We're quite proud of it...particularly our 
latest ornament."

Brenda swallowed hard as Steve led the account she had cultivated 
for months to the tree of shame.  She knew what was coming, but 
she was helpless to prevent it.

Steve handed Mr. Gilbert an ornament, an image of a sleazy-looking 
hooker, ready for a cheap trick or any perversion imaginable.  Her 
nipples were obvious through her pink tube top, and her skirt was 
shamefully short.

"That certainly is an unusual ornament," a puzzled Mr. Gilbert 
offered.

"It's more than an ornament -- it's our friend, Brenda."

A surprised Mr. Gilbert looked back at Brenda, who was blushing 
crimson and staring at her shoes.

Steve grinned and obligingly explained.  "Brenda visited 'Boys 
Town' in Mexico a few years ago and got trapped there.  She 
ended up working as a prostitute for almost 6 months before 
finally getting out.  She got fucked by every guy she knew -- 
customers, co-workers, and neighbors.  She sucked my dick on more 
than one occasion, for example, and quite well, I might add.  She 
had the most amazing technique, where she would just flick her 
tongue over the vent while you were squirting into her mouth.

Although she was dressed conservatively, she could feel Gilbert's 
eyes running over her body as he imagined her as a whore.

"She'd probably be a VP now, if it wasn't for that little 
incident," Steve chuckled.  "In fact, she's done such a good 
job recently that there was talk of giving her a branch to 
manage.  Fortunately the ornament arrived a few weeks ago, 
and everyone came to their senses.

"Speaking of which, as her boss, I sometimes require her to 
'entertain' our most important clients after she completes their 
business.  I feel that it's important to secure our customers' 
loyalty in every way imaginable."

Brenda cringed as Steve opened a desk drawer to reveal her old 
hooker uniform  -- pink tube top, short skirt, and sandals.  
"She'll be in room 17 of the Motel Seedee out by Route 27.  Sorry 
for the cheap digs, but, as you can imagine, they don't let girls 
in these clothes into the nice hotels."

Brenda looked at Mr. Gilbert with desperate eyes.  She had worked 
for him for weeks, and she was secretly hoping that he would put 
in a word with the bank president.  Mr. Gilbert would have the 
power to save her from Steve.

Mr. Gilbert looked at her and smiled.  But he addressed his next 
remark to Steve.

"Tell me about that thing she does with her tongue again...."

		******************************              

Part 3

Terri London's corner office at "The Times" was the largest in 
the building, as befitting a journalist of her stature.  Terri 
had her own private washroom, a treadmill, and picturesque view 
of the city.

Terri also had her own Christmas tree.

The tree was decorated with ornaments she had collected on her 
many adventures -- an ornament that the President had given her 
when she had broken up a terrorist network, another that the 
Queen had given her for foiling an attempt to blow up Buckingham 
Palace, yet another from the UN for her stories on international 
refugees. 

Many of the ornaments contained a message, or an inscription, or 
a seal that made their source obvious.  But one ornament remained 
inscrutably anonymous.

It was a small but detailed model of a medical examination table.  
The table itself was well-polished, but what really caught the 
visitor's eye were the gleaming metal stirrups, already clicked 
into place.

Bright and shiny, they glistened and shimmered under the tree's 
fiber-optic lights: blue, green, gold, red, and now blue again.

Fun, fun, fun!

Terri delighted when visitors asked her about the tree, since it 
gave her a chance to recount her many adventures, both here and 
abroad.

But, when visitors would ask (as they inevitably did) about the 
bizarre little table, she would begin to blush and stammer.

"It's hard to...I haven't published that story yet.  It's kind 
of hard to....  Oh, it's a long story...."

It was a long story, indeed.  Terri didn't know exactly why she 
had hung the humiliating ornament on the front of her tree.  She 
had been shocked when it had come in the mail, and she had left 
it in the box for days.

But finally she hung it on the tree...just for size.  The ornament 
was so heavy she had to rearrange some of the other ornaments.

Each time someone asked her about the ornament, and she blushed 
and stammered like a schoolgirl, she vowed to take it down later.

But she never did.

"It would throw the tree out of balance," she would say.  "It 
would take too much time to redecorate.  Besides, why should I 
get so freaked out over a silly little ornament?"

But, each time someone asked her about the glittering little 
table, Terri's bravado would fade.  She would blush, and shift 
her weight, and stammer, and bite her pretty lip.

In fact, that was exactly the way she had acted when she had 
stood in front of the Sheriff's desk.  When people asked her 
about the ornament, she felt the same rush, the same fear, 
the same thrill, the same tingling between her legs.

The ornament was Terri's secret reservoir of Christmas joy.

		******************************      

Part 4

The Christmas tree in Natalie's student apartment was small, but 
extremely festive.  Natalie and her friends loved Christmas.

Her cousin, Holly, would occasionally tease her about a small 
ornament displayed prominently at the top of the tree.  It was 
a relief, and it showed, from the back, a naked brunette with 
shoulder length hair in what appeared to be an old-fashioned 
wooden shower room.  The woman's hair was wet, and the shower 
nozzle was directly over her head.

The wooden wall that formed the backdrop to the relief was 
festooned with knotholes.  When the ornament was plugged in, 
little yellow eyes would appear in the knotholes and blink on 
and off.

There were wide eyes, beady eyes, eyes with glasses -- dozens 
of male eyes staring at the naked woman showering.

Natalie loved the fact that the woman's face was hidden, since 
it allowed her to project all of her conflicting emotions onto 
the scene:

The power of her body to drive the 18-year-old boys crazy....

The humor of the plot's transparency....

The thrilling feelings of helplessness and humiliation as she 
lathered up buck naked under the boys' watchful gaze....

Holly would tease Natalie about the ornament, and her cruel 
cousin always made a point of telling each and every visitor 
to the apartment the shameful story of the ornament's origin.

But somehow that made Natalie love the ornament all the more.

		******************************          

Part 5

Search'em smiled as he prepared the next ornament for delivery.  
It showed an adult woman dressed in a school jumper.  The little 
skirt fluttered in the breeze, and, if the wind caught it just 
right, the skirt would reveal the blushing girl's tight white 
underpants.

The best part of the ornament was that the pigtailed "teenager" 
was the spitting image of Judge Ashley Marsh.

Search'em smiled again as he placed the carefully wrapped ornament 
in the box.  He was certain that Judge Hawthorn would be eager to 
exercise his free speech by hanging the humiliating ornament on 
the courthouse tree.


MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM LAKEWOOD, INSOMNIA, SEARCH'EM, AND JOE.


Edited by C. Lakewood


