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Christmas Cracker

By: Tomsparty



It was Christmas 2005. I sat on the lounge floor with my sister surrounded by family and friends. The Christmas tree sparkled and after our dinner we had gathered round the tree to open our presents. As I felt Aunties soft parcel Mum whispered in my ear. 'Be grateful for what ever you receive. We all know Aunties a bit kooky. I've no idea what she's bought you. Be kind to her I don't want her to suffer a relapse.' 

I recall my last birthday present of a HB pencil, some navy-blue socks and a cheese grater and smirk inwardly. Mum was right Auntie was getting strange with her old age. I look at my sister Julie who is already ripping open her parcel from Auntie. I settle back on my knees and break off the elaborate glittery bow. My mind spins into overdrive. I guess she's bought me a ghastly coloured shirt or knitted me an unfashionable jumper. Julie, impatient as ever has her gift unwrapped. It's a red Saints football shirt. Most girls would be unimpressed but unbeknown to many Julie is a tomboy and loves football, plays for an all girls team and supports the Saints enthusiastically.

'Thanks Auntie - I've always wanted one of these.' 

Auntie is cleaning the thick lenses of her glasses with a handkerchief but looks up to smile happily and nod. 

Julie looks proudly at me. 'Come on slow coach what's Auntie bought you?'

To my horror everyone in the room puts down what they where opening and watches me intently. Under pressure I tear the brightly coloured wrapping and see fro the corner of my eye Auntie smiling warmly. I brace myself to look delighted whatever she's bought me. I tear off some more tape and peel back a small corner of wrapping paper and peer inside so no one else can see. I freeze - whatever it is it's made of a pink satiny fabric and my mind goes into scrambles. What can it be and do I want it? I feel rooted to the spot in terror.

'What is it dear?' Mum asks.

'Not sure,' I say.

Auntie laughs delighted with the suspense she's created. 'I hope I've got your size?'

I gulp; more fear and I tear away another tiny corner. Pink, my size! This wasn't looking good. Every ribbon savoured, every bit of tape lovingly peeled, every sheet folded and preserved. I wish I could fast forward time to when we had finished opening our presents and where relaxing with a drink watching the Queens speech. Anything was better than this.

'Come on, we haven't got all day,' my sister cries lunging forward, tearing at the wrapping. I yank it from her and it fell apart in our hands and a pretty pink party dress tumbles to the floor. I try to smile like a children's television presenter, gushing like a fountain but I can't. Instead I stare aghast at the net underskirts, antique lace trimming, sequins, ribbons and bows. 

'Oh Mummy,' my sister cry's squealing like a piglet, 'Look at Rosemary's lovely dress. It's beautiful.'

I stare at her aghast. I'd forgotten Auntie often mistook me as a Rosemary. I blamed her old age buy Julie teased me by saying it was because I was so slight and feminine with long hair and perfect skin. I think she was just jealous.

'It's not for you, Julie. Keep your mitts off it,' Auntie says, 'I bought this for Rosemary. She's got such a lovely figure and wears such drab masculine clothes. She'll never meet a nice boy dressing like she does.' 

I grimace and shake my head in disbelief and look at my sister in disbelief. She's grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

'Remember,' she winks, 'it's better to give than to receive.' A smile twitches involuntary at the corner of my mouth. Its still tagged and I hope Aunties kept the receipt.

Auntie coughs. 'I'm sure you've got luscious legs under those trousers. You should show them.'

My throat dries and I look round the room for support. There is none. I want to laugh and ridicule the dress but knew it would hurt Auntie's feelings. My sister wasn't much help either as she had the dress in her hands and was placing it against her own shoulders. 'Nice,' she says. 'Come on you - stand up,' 

I look at Mum for salvation but instead she gives me a encouraging wink. 'Go on darling show us how pretty you can be.' 

I blush and reluctantly stand. I look round the room. My step dads trying desperately not to laugh and Uncle George is smiling as if he's won the lottery. Uncle Mike and Mums friend, Dave and Trish, grin sheepishly. No one offers me a hand or a plausible opt out. I stand and as I straighten my sister presses the dress against me. 'Oh look it's gorgeous Mum,' she says holding it against me with one hand and flicking the skirts outwards with the other.

Uncle George lets out a builder type wolf whistle and I feel my cheeks redden.

Auntie is polishing her glasses again. 'Come on dearie make an old lady happy and put it on.' 

'What a lovely idea,' my sister adds playing along with the situation. 

I shake my head 'No,' I say firmly and take the dress off Julie and attempt to rewrap it back in the Christmas paper. The room is silent and everyone looks at me aghast as if I'd confessed to something awful like a murder.

Auntie looks as if she's going to cry. 'What's the matter honey have you got it already? Not your colour? Or do you prefer long sleeves?'

I shake my head. 'No... It's incredibly kind! Amazingly thoughtful. Very generous. I just feel terrible I only gave you a soap on a rope and this must have been so expensive.'

'Oh Rosemary darling,' she gushes, 'don't be stupid. I saw this the other week and immediately thought of you.'

Er... Thanks very pretty.' I say, 'I'm sure I'll wear it ... one day.'

Mum shuffles forward in her seat. 'Nonsense darling, don't be shy. Auntie has gone to some considerable effort. The least you could do is try it on ... NOW' Her voice is strong and meaningful and I feel as if under order. That's when it happens. My tiny cock which up until than had been dormant, twitches. Only slightly at first but the more I thought of the pretty pint dress hanging off my shoulders, my long legs exposed and everyone admiring how pretty I looked the more it began to throb.

I turn and face Mum pulling a face fit for "Lord of the Rings" but my sister is already dragging me through the lounge door. 'I'll help her. We won't be long. You all wait. Have another mince pie or drink another sherry... when we return you won't recognise him...' She giggles and gives me another tug, '...her, I mean her. You won't recognise her.'

Upstairs in Julies bedroom out of earshot I stare at her annoyed. 'What are you playing at?' I hiss. 'You know I can't possibly wear this dress, I'll look a fool.'

Julie ignores my bleating and unwrapped the dress and laid it carefully on her Bed. 'I can see your reluctance but Auntie will be heartbroken. She's convinced your some distant cousin called Rosemary. She may be not all there but she looks so healthy. I don't want to be the one to tell her. What harm will it do? Everyone downstairs understands.'

She was right I knew I had little option. I focus on the dress lying elegantly on Julie's bed. Yet alarm bells are ringing in my head. They're starting to clang wildly. What am I to do? I thought. For an instant I cannot move. Oh Jesus. What have I done? What have I done? My heart starts to thump as I take in my situation. My batty Auntie thinks I'm a girl called Rosemary. I've been given the most feminine dress for Christmas I've ever seen. My Mum and a roomful of guests are expecting me to wear it just to please my Auntie. And to top it all I was incredibly hot, my cock was as hard as iron and I was scaring myself with the thought that I might enjoy dressing as Rosemary. There's a loud clapping sound and I jump in fright. Julie taps her watch.

'Come on, come on Rosemary let's get you ready. They'll expect you back down in a few minutes.'

I swallow nervously. Fuck what am I to do?

'Er... OK,' I say feebly. 'What do you want me to do?' 

I have never felt so powerless in my life. I have a sudden image of Auntie realising I'm not Rosemary and hyperventilating. I close my eyes and see her slumped in her chair, her blood pressure dropping, her temperature rising, her breathing erratic. I think hospitals, oxygen, intensive care and even death. Oh God. This could get really nasty. But I mean, its not like I have any other option. It's not like I could convincingly pass as Rosemary ... Could I? I pick up the pink dress and finger it, my mind whirling round and round. Auntie has been very generous if rather misdirected. Mum, Julie and everyone downstairs seemed very supportive and understanding. It's not like I have any option. Maybe dressing as Rosemary will help Auntie convalesce. Some good may come of this I may be a hero. Abruptly I realize I have my hand in my pocket cupping my spasming cock and I come to a decision. I'll busk it for a few hours. It can't be hard. I'll show Auntie the dress, flash some leg and behave all girly or whatever. I'll think of it as my little thank-you to them. Then as soon as they lose interest I'll find a convincing excuse to leave the room. I'll pop back upstairs, change; reappear as myself and Auntie will never know I was Rosemary. 

Ok. Calm down. Prioritise. I need to undress, put on some make-up, brush my hair and put on Auntie's dress. I thank God Julie's by my side offering help. I go to speak but to my surprise Julie's one step ahead of me. My shoes and socks are off and she has already taken off my belt and unfastened my trousers. Reluctantly I let them fall to the floor and step out of them. Julie is too busy to notice my excitement. I take off my shirt as Julie rummages in her top draw. 

'You're about my size. These should fit,' and without further ado she drops some soft lingerie in my hands. 

I blush. 'No...' I say. 'I don't see the point. The dress is one thing but knickers...' She stops me short. 

'You can't do this half heatedly or you will look stupid. Besides they're beautiful!' She grins and shakes her head whilst wrapping a white lacy underwired bra round my chest. 'You've got to wear lingerie that shows off your assets and looks good under your dress.' 

I turn and she clips it firmly in place then feeds my arms through the tiny spaghetti straps. She giggles then wraps two Satsuma's in soft pink tissue and stuffs them into the lacy cups. 'Panties,' she says pointing a beautifully painted fingernail to my boxers. 'You know you can't wear them.' She then notices my bulging crutch and a tiny damp patch spreading in the cotton. 'My, my' she chides, 'you're not telling me everything are you and she gives my cock a playful flick. I blush and feel tears welling up in my eyes. 'I can't help it,' I bawl and Julie seems genuinely concerned. She cradles my head on her shoulder. 'There, there Rosemary don't be shy. Let the young girl in you come out. I now you want to.' I sniff pathetically and smell her perfume. The truth is

I love the weight of the bra and marvel how the straps on my shoulders already make me feel girlish. I shrug turn my back to her and drop my boxers down my legs. She hands me the matching panties. Snowy white with delicate embroidery, lace edging matching my bra. I pull them up my legs. The lace tickles my hairless legs and as I do my cock begins to wilt. Julie now ignores my arousal and wraps a delicate suspender belt round my tiny waist and pokes the webbing under my panties. 

I quiver with excitement. 'Are you really sure,' I say as my cock begins to mould itself into a feminine mound. She nods and hands me a pair of stockings and I perch on her bed to roll them up my legs 

Julie takes the impossibly sheer stockings from me and teases the fabric gently. 'It's nothing to be ashamed of. I've known about your sexual fantasy for years. Many boys like to dress as girls'

What?' I cry. 'You do?'

She laughs rolling the stockings up my legs. 'I'm your sister silly. I know these things besides you talk in your sleep and the walls are paper thin.'

'Oh no!' I say but I don't know what to add as the soft silky stockings make me quiver causing my mouth to dry like a parched desert. 

She laughs like a teenager with her first crush. 'You are silly you don't even know yourself. You should take a long hard look in the mirror. You've got beautiful hair, soft yet firm skin, no wrinkles, a stunning complexion and just look at these legs.' she runs her nimble fingers up and down my legs straightening the nylon as she goes. They feel tremendous. I bite my lip as I shudder with excitement. 'Oh Rosemary I'm so jealous. They're so long, slender and smooth. You're such a woman and you don't even know it. I've got footballer thighs.' 

Me, True fully - I'm deliriously happy. My own sister making me up as an equal - a beautiful girl. My heart flutters. This is my secret dream. A perfect Christmas. I feel like a young girl with her first dolls pram. I couldn't wish for more. An opportunity to dress as my girlish desire without fear, humiliation or ridicule.

Speechless I remain perched on her bed, the panties slipping between my cheeks, as Julie slips each foot into a high-heeled shoe. I feel intoxicated as she buckled my ankles into them with tiny straps decorated with an imitation diamond.

I'm soon struggling to stand finding it hard to cope with my weighty breasts and the pitch of the shoes. I take a few furtive steps and very soon I'm like a duck in water, mincing about the room as if born in heels. Julie gets quite bossy and I'm soon sitting on a stool in front of her make-up mirror. Mum bursts into the bedroom. She looks at me in Julie's lingerie and heels. Surprise is evident on her face. 

'Well done Julie,' she says, 'Rosemary will look smashing. Oh-so-cute.' 

I look back at her with doey eyes terrified that we where taking it all rather seriously but to the contra she was delighted. 'Hurry up we're all very excited.' I heave a sigh of relief glad my legs where safely obscured under her dressing table as my cock began to throb uncontrollably again. I didn't want mum to see the pleasure I was in. 

Mum pleased with our progress disappeared downstairs whilst Julie worked frantically, she arched my brows, lightly dappled my face with foundation, coated my lips with lipstick, lengthened my eye lashes with mascara, emphasized my eyes with eye liner and dusted my lids with shadow. She even accentuated my cheeks with blusher. Twenty minutes later she giggled excitedly and dropped a cream coloured half-slip over my head. It cascaded down my soft silky body as if cream poured from a jug. It was cool and silky and I was grateful for its cock covering length. 'Now for your magnificent dress.' She cleared her throat as if announcing an important speaker. 'Step in your pretty dress Rosemary your guests await you.' She giggles for the first time and shakes the dress invitingly. I hold my breath as if about to dive off the top board of a swimming pool and step carefully into the dress careful not to snag my heels on the many underskirts. I feel light-headed as the netting tickles my slender ankles like a thousand tiny fingers. She pulls it up my thighs the material rustles alluringly. 

'It's a bit old fashioned,' I say. 

Julie nods. 'It's so incredibly feminine. I've no idea where she bought it from or when she expected you to wear such a creation. It reminds me of a little girls party dress.'

I nod sheepishly. ' I feel like Alice in wonderland,' I confess. 

Julie looks at me and smiles. 'Good, that's not a bad thing... Considering.' I smile back as she slips my arms into the puffball sleeves, zips me up and clasps me in. I suddenly feel trapped and wonder if I could ever take the dress off without aid.

Julie stands back and eye's me with admiration, her head cocked to one side like a bird. 'Oh my dear,' she says finally. 'Oh my goodness the dress is so flattering. You're transformed. You look fitter, you look healthier ... you look happy.' She walks round me tugging at bits of the dress and flicking off tiny bits of fluff. 'Who could ever imagine this dress would make you look so beautiful.'

I give a bashful smile. 'I suppose I do feel different. I suppose the dress does me feel like a girl.' I lick my lips tasting Julie's lipstick mulling my transformation over. 'I like wearing the dress. I feel so pretty and submissive.'

I waltz around the room the skirts swishing and eventually come to rest opposite her mirror. I stand and gaze open mouthed at my reflection. I too am flabbergasted. I hardly recognise myself. My ankles look shapely, my legs long, my hips womanly, my waist narrow and my chest buxom. My cock spasms again and for a brief moment I think I'm going to come in my panties.

'Happy Christmas, Auntie,' I say to my reflection in a high-pitched girlish voice. 'And ... er ... what do you think of my legs in your present?' I perform a delicate spin so that my skirt spirals outwards lifting upwards exposing my long slender legs.

'Oh gosh!' I say trying to hide my modesty. But it's too late Julie's seen the unfeminine bulge in my panties.

'Don't worry you'll be fine. Are you that excited?' she asks as if the tell-tale bulge wasn't evidence enough.

I wasn't sure what she meant but my cock was threatening to spring like a caged tiger from my minuscule panties that barely covered a postage stamp. 

'Why don't you pop into the bathroom? For some relief.' 

I blush, 'Yes I could do with going to the toilet.'

She smiles knowingly. 'You'll find some hand cream in the cupboard.' she says. I blush again not favoring the idea that my sister knows I'm a wanker. 'I'll be waiting in my room.'

I nod and quickly skip into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Alone at last my hands first cup my breasts then strokes my cock and for the first time fingers my bum. I simultaneously look at my reflection in the cabinet. I cant stop looking at myself. Again the image of the pretty girl is unbelievable. My cock jerks uncontrollably and its only will power that stops me spurting cum into my panties. 'Hurry up,' I hear Julie call. 'Don't get lost in there.'

'Almost done,' I reply hitching my skirts up. But I could barely see my panties under the swath of underskirts yet I couldn't miss my huge unfeminine cock. With my free hand I found Julie's hand cream and smeared a knob on my cock. I immediately dropped to my knees careful not to ladder my stockings and massaged the cream into my throbbing member. I gave in to my emotions. The effect was dramatic. Like an elastic band stretched taught. I suddenly snapped and my cock erupted like a dormant volcano slowly at first but as the jerks intensified it shot a jet of warm creamy jisam into the air. It was heavenly, to die for. I gasp aloud and collapse on the floor as my previously rampant cock becomes flaccid and wilts to snug pantie proportions.

There's a tap on the door. 'Rosemary, you nearly ready.'

'Yes,' I gasp struggling to stand. I wash my now tamed cock and slip it neatly into my panties. The effect was magical my groin had now become a feminine mound. I brush down my skirts and open the door ready for anything.

Julie takes the lead and as steps down the stairs my dress swung like a church bell with an almost deafening rustle. Julie stops mid step, turns and looks up at me. I desperately try to see over my skirts where to place my feet. 'Careful of your skirts,' she raises an arched eye brow. 

'It's not easy,' I bleat, 'I can see everything.' 

She winks and shakes her head. 'Try holding your skirt down as you step. You'll find it less revealing and you should be able to see.' She was right.

Downstairs Julie opens the door ajar and pokes her head into the lounge. A Christmas CD is playing on the stereo and sleigh bells are chiming in the background. She clears her throat. 'Introducing the one and only. The girl everyone's talking about this Christmas. The breaker of a thousand men's hearts. The beautiful R-o-s-e-m-a-r-y.' There's a ripple of expectant applause and I take a sharp intake of breath. She holds my hand flings open the door, pulling me inside, swirling me around as if a competitive ballroom dancer. Everyone's looking at me. I have never felt more self-conscious in my life. I'm a young girl. I have to behave like a young girl. 


Christmas Cracker



Author's Note: Thanks very much to Krissta and NaokoSmith for their tremendous help in editing this story for me.

* * * * *

"Oh fuck yes! You sexy slut! Take it! Take it right to the balls!" said Santa.

The jolly old elf was stood in his bedroom merrily pounding into an elven assistant. She was bent over the desk in front of him, propping herself up on her elbows, and trying very hard not to yawn. They were supposed to be checking his list by going over the names of the naughty people and the nice ones for filing purposes. It wasn't like Santa was in the present delivering business any more. In fact, he didn't do much at all these days apart from drink, eat, and fuck. She'd shown up hoping to get the work done and as usual had found herself on the receiving end of some chubby Santa sex.

"Oh. Wow. Santa. You're so good at that." She propped her cheek on her hand and rolled her eyes.

Not seeming to notice her lack of enthusiasm, Santa continued to chug away. His red pants were down around his ankles and his long coat was open to reveal a bare chest and enormous gut. What had perhaps once been a fluffy, white beard was matted with brown whiskey stains. Even then, he couldn't keep a bottle out of his hand. He waved it about above him, splashing the stuff everywhere whilst holding onto the bare hips of the elf with his other hand.

"Right to the balls!" he shouted before giving her bare ass a spank.

She had her own leggings around her ankles and her green smock was pushed up over her hips to leave her ass bare and her pussy open to the enthusiastic fucking. Although, despite that enthusiasm, going the length of Santa's cock wasn't exactly a long journey. Being the dutiful helper, she'd often tried to sound pleased the first hundred times or so this had happened. These days she found that the man hardly even noticed the boredom in her voice.

Serving Santa always made her happy, but in this particular case it was in more of an abstract happiness. 

"Oh fuck! So fucking good!" He hissed the words through his teeth. "One eight is eight! Two eights are sixteen! Three eights are twenty four!"

Great. The old "lets recite multiplication tables aloud to keep from cumming early" dirty talk. He sure knew how to light a girl's pussy on fire. She sighed with resignation and started thinking about how she might decorate her Christmas tree that year.

Behind her, Santa continued panting and gasping between yelling out multiples of eight. His cheeks and nose had turned awfully red and sweat was pouring from his brow. Inside his chest, his heart thundered along against the will of all those mince pies and a copious amount of hard liquor.

"Nine eights are... Hgnk!"

"Yeah, seventy two is what you're looking for there, big guy," she passively filled in. He wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the drawer, and often needed help with the larger numbers.

Unfortunately this time his struggle wasn't with mathematics but rather with his heart which had just decided that enough was enough. Behind her, she felt him fall away. A very large thud shook the floorboards. She glanced over her shoulder and her eyes widened with genuine emotion for the first time that day. There was Santa, lying on his back with his eyes wide open and his pants still around his ankles. Despite the enthusiastic salute of his three and a half inch long boner, he didn't appear to be breathing.

"Santa? Santa! Oh shit!"

* * * * *

Wendall Klaus awoke to the sound of his telephone ringing, and immediately wished he'd had the good sense to destroy the thing. It was a very old land-line wired up to his bedside table, and as such it was impossible to send to voicemail. Gritting his teeth, he reached out and grabbed the receiver before pulling it over to the side of his face. He did not take his head from the pillow.

"Wendall?" an uncertain voice called from the other end of the line.

"Hello, Vernon." Wendall tried to keep the cold anger out of his voice. His aversion to consciousness wasn't the fault of one of his oldest friends.

"Are you alright? You sound strained."

"Well I would be, wouldn't I?"

"I suppose so. Look, I know it's been a month now but I just wanted to call to apologize about everything."

Wendall closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. The anger gave way to resignation, just as it always did.

"It's alright. I know it wasn't your fault. I showed up to work drunk out of my mind. When you called me into your office I hardly thought I was going to be winning employee of the month. Is everything alright over there? God, there weren't any visitors were there?"

"No! Nothing like that."

Wendall and Vernon had been department heads of a privately funded charitable organisation. Visitors usually meant donors, and he doubted seeing him stumbling through the halls would have been taken as a sign of confidence.

"Good. That's a mercy then," said Wendall. "Look, Vernon, I'm sorry I didn't call you. I felt like such an idiot after it happened and what with everything else..."

"Don't be silly! I wouldn't have fired you if I was the one in charge, it's just that our main investors were concerned and-"

"You wouldn't have fired me? I would have definitely fired me," Wendall grumbled.

"Hah," the noise sounded slightly strangled in Vernon's throat. "Well, I might have insisted on a few months paid leave whilst you got yourself together." Another poignant pause. "Have you gotten yourself together, mate?"

"I'm not drinking any more if that's what you mean. Stopped the day after and haven't touched a drop since. I moved out to my old country house. The place is dry. It's just that after it happened I needed something to, I don't know, help me sleep?"

"We're talking now about the trollop then?"

"Don't call her that."

"What the hell am I supposed to call her!?" Vernon could really make his voice boom when he wanted to. "You walked in on her with another bloke! Believe me, I've called her a lot fucking worse since you stayed over at my house that night. Frannie made a voodoo doll in her image and she's been poking at it every day these last few weeks."

Frannie was Vernon's secretary and was about half his age. The pair of them often enjoyed some very naughty time together after work. Frannie was also a very nice woman, who seemed to think that Vernon was the one for her and had dutifully made friends with Wendall because of it. You didn't go all-in with someone without at least trying to get their best friend's approval after all.

"Tell her I'm oddly grateful." Despite the lead weight that often felt embedded in his chest, Wendall smiled.

"Anyway, I wanted you to know a few things. First off, the No Room at the Inn report came back and it's workable, largely thanks to yourself. We've got permission to set up the shelters across London through 'till the spring. Should stop a lot of desperate people from having to freeze in the cold. Nicely done. We also put a team on working the idea of that new kid."

"Adrian?"

"Yeah! Going around the hospitals and trying to make sure every kid gets a present. The investors loved it. Lots of photo ops with smiling kids."

"Ok, just don't let them turn it into a bloody campaign rally or marketing op."

"Think your boy will see to that. Guy's got the presence of a Rottweiler when he needs it."

Wendall smiled at that. Adrian was a big guy who had just graduated university and wanted to help change the world. He'd voiced the idea in a meeting and Wendall had given him the go-ahead to run with it. He'd also happened to work as a bouncer before that, and was very experienced at fending off unwanted assholes. That was good training for dealing with the board of investors.

"Right. Thanks for calling, Vernon."

"Hey, no problem. I'll come see you soon, ok? Might be the week before Christmas before I get a chance. Just stay off the sauce and get your shit together, mate. You'll be fine."

"Yeah." His agreement didn't exactly sound wholeheartedly agreeable. "I think I'll hang up now, before I get the speech about there being plenty more fish in the sea."

Vernon laughed a little more genuinely then.

"Alright. I'm busy over here right now or I'd be with you, but if you need me for anything then you call. Ok?"

"I will. Thanks again." Wendall hung up.

It wasn't that his friend's heart wasn't in the right place. It was just that if he had to relive what had happened one more time then he might seriously consider taking a bath with the toaster.

Taking a deep breath, he rallied his willpower to face another day. After silently counting down from three, he flung off his bed quilt and sat up to put on his slippers and then his dressing gown before shuffling over to the door in search of coffee.

When he stepped down into the kitchen he glanced at the kettle before noticing the radio. Some music might cheer the place up a bit. The old country house was out in the middle of nowhere and could get deathly quiet. He walked over to the radio and powered it up.

It'll be lonely this Christmas, lonely and cold.

Oh yeah now there's a song that would cheer him up no-end. Thanks for nothing, Elvis. He clicked the search button to find another station.

Oh what a Christmas to have the blues, my baby's gone I have no friends to-

Click. Bon Jovi was hitting a little too close to home there too.

...and there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time-

Click. Ok, that one didn't have anything to do with his divorce. He just thought that song was bloody awful.

They sold me a dream of Christmas, they sold me a silent night, and they told me a fairy story 'till I believed in the Israelite.

Preach on, good sirs. Preach on. Wendall left the radio on and shuffled across the kitchen in his slippers to put the kettle on. At least the old house was a relative haven from the realities of his life. He'd once been in a car crash in his early twenties. He remembered the sudden shock, the swerve off road followed by rolling across a ploughed field for several yards. Current circumstances felt almost like reliving the experience in slow motion.

The shock of coming home early one chilly September afternoon to find his wife naked on his couch riding their next door neighbour. The swerve of moving out, starting to drink, and turning up for work in such a state that his best friend had no choice but to fire him. Finally there'd just been the vague sensation that everything he knew was spinning out of control. He'd moved out there to the little house in early November. Ever since then it felt like he'd been in a perpetual daze.

The divorce papers sat on the kitchen table, looming there to represent the end of everything he knew. All his life. Everything he'd built. It all seemed like a dream. He glanced over to those papers as he stirred his morning coffee, and then looked away just as quickly. Signing them was the best course of action. Every part of his rational mind knew that. Amelia hadn't just been cheating on him that one time. She'd been at it for years. Quite a lot of things had come to light after he'd found out what she'd been up to. None of them painted her in a particularly positive light.

Except once he put that pen to the papers then it would be over for good. The distinctly irrational part of him didn't like that idea at all. He remembered her smile at him on the day they'd met at a work outing. They'd danced. They'd kissed. She'd taken him to her room and shown him quite a few things he'd enjoyed immensely. It had been good. He thought it had always been good right up until he'd walked in on the heart-wrenching evidence that it wasn't.

That memory still hit him like a stab in the gut. He tried to force a distraction by stirring his coffee some more and looking out of the window. It was early December now. Frost covered the grass on the fields and hills outside his little isolated home. It was oddly comforting to look out there and feel so wonderfully alone and safely distanced from his problems. With the exception of the occasional melodic reminder that he'd be spending Christmas by himself this year.

Just as the song changed and he started recognising the guitar riff of Run, run Rudolph, the radio signal scrambled. It was then interrupted by what he thought was definitely the strangest radio DJ he'd ever heard.

Run, run Rudolph, Santa's got to make it to- "Dammit! Will you guys stop swerving so much!? I'm getting sleigh-sick back here!" "...tell him he can take the freeway down! Run, run Rudolph 'cause I'm reelin' like a merry-go-round."

He turned to the radio and blinked a few times in surprise. It had sounded like a girl with a notably high-pitched and distressed voice. He'd heard bells jingling in the background. Must have been some ad for... sleigh-sickness? Was that even a thing? Who the hell had a sleigh these days, anyway?

Wendall's moustache wiggled slightly with amusement. At least it wasn't just his world that seemed to be going mad.

All I want for Christmas is a Rock 'n Roll- "I just told you that's the house we're looking for! I didn't want you to dive-bomb it! Oh no! We're coming in way too low! Shiiiii-" And then away went Rudolph, wizzing like a shooting star!

Wendall narrowed his eyes at the radio this time. "What the hell?"

BANG!

He nearly threw his coffee all over himself. The little house had been shaken to its foundations, as if a giant had stomped on the roof.

A second crash rang out quickly afterward from the rear garden. This time he looked out of the window to see something that made him completely forget about his spilt coffee. On the field just outside the kitchen door there was a very large, very red sleigh that was lined with a number of golden bells the size of his fist. It had been turned completely on its side to show a wide-set seat with leather reins laid out across the frosty grass. Still tied up to the sleigh were nine very large reindeer standing in two lines and looking like lost sheep. At the head of the two lines was another smaller reindeer with a very shiny red nose. 

And if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows.

"You have got to be shitting me." Wendall ran to the door and pulled it open to see that his eyes weren't deceiving him at all.

It was only then that he looked at the low stone wall beside the overturned sleigh. He saw a single pair of shapely legs wiggling about up in the air with obvious distress. They were garbed in white and red, stripy leggings.

"Hey!" Wendall yelled out as he made a run for the legs. "What the hell is this? That's my house you nearly just destroyed! I... fucking hell!"

When he mentioned his house he'd just happened to glance back and see that a very large chunk had been removed from the middle of his roof, leaving him with an impromptu skylight. Pausing for only a moment to look over the damage before remembering the rest of the crazy in his back field, he turned to hurry over to the flailing legs.

Whoever they belonged to had landed in a thick stack of straw he kept bundled behind the fence. It seemed like his unknown visitor had landed in there head-first. His approach allowed him to take a closer look at the sight of those stripy red and white leggings, and see the toned and slender shape of the legs within. The legs were each topped with a pointed green shoe decorated with a little, round bell attached to the upturned points. These allowed the legs to jingle merrily whilst they flailed.

"Alright, alright, steady on." He said as he reached out and wrapped his arms around the legs to pull. At first he got a knee in the nose for his troubles when the legs became even more alarmed at this manhandling. "Oh for crying out loud!" Wendall yelled. Summoning his strength after tasting blood on his lip, he hauled the intruder up out of the straw in one go.

They both fell back onto the frosty grass with Wendall still in his pyjamas, slippers and dressing gown. It seemed like the frost didn't really consider those to be proper obstacles and he quickly felt a fresh chill go through his body. Turning his head, he looked up to see the intruder scrambling to her feet.

From the back he wasn't immediately sure it was a her. She was about 5ft tall with a slender build and her hair was kept mostly inside a floppy, pointed, green hat. When she turned around to look down at him, he saw she was unmistakably female. Her face had delicate, pointed features that ran the mark somewhere between cute and surreally beautiful. Large, green eyes glittered with a little of what seemed to be their own light. They were framed by smooth, fair skin. A few tufts of bright red hair could be seen trying to escape from under her hat. Though what made his heart almost miss a beat was her ears, which were long and naturally pointed at the tips.

The sight made him sit up urgently and pull himself to his feet despite some creaky bones offering resistance.

"It's you!" the girl's face broke out into a big grin and just as he got his feet underneath him she threw herself forward to wrap her arms around his chest.

For a pint-sized girl she could sure as hell give a hug. Randall felt his lungs struggle for air as she squeezed him whilst burying her face into the lapels of his dressing gown. He was almost certain that she could have easily lifted him right off his feet if she had a mind to.

"Oh, sorry!" she suddenly realised that he'd started turning blue and released him to catch his breath.

"Who? Wha? Huh!?" Randall tried to breathe whilst gesturing to the festive insanity surrounding them.

She looked back at the reindeer and glowered at the red-nosed one before marching right up to it and poking her finger right at that nose.

"Are you nuts!? You knew you weren't hauling fatass around today! Look at me! I'm 90 pounds soaking wet! You almost flung me out nine times! I almost wound up landing in a sheep farm outside Inverness! Argh! Do you even know what they do to sheep up there? All alone on those fields with no one else around. There's a reason those guys wind up on the naughty list. Imagine what they might have done if they'd found my skinny, elven butt!"

He stood and watch her give the reindeer what-for, with each of her little pokes making its nose glow a shade brighter. The animal lowered its head in obvious shame, and she left him to think about what he'd done wrong. Walking back towards Randall, her demeanour instantly changed from outright ferocity to pleasantly cheerful.

"You're an elf," Randall surmised, his eyes growing very wide all of a sudden.

"Wow, you sure catch on fast." The sarcasm was laid on thick, but the friendly smile remained. "I'm an elf. That's Rudolph. There's an overturned sleigh over there. Now get ready for the big one, buddy. You are the next Santa Claus! Woohoo! Right?"

She threw her hands up into the air and gave a little celebratory hop.

Randall demonstrated just how "woohoo" he thought it was by losing consciousness and landing face-first in the frost.

The elf looked down at him, clucked her tongue, then placed her hands on her hips before glancing back to Rudolph and the other reindeer.

"Well, I that went about as well as can be expected."

The reindeer nodded their antlers in agreement.

* * * * *

Wendall woke up in bed. The events of the morning immediately came flooding back to him. This was largely because when he looked up from his pillow he saw the grey December sky through a giant hole in his ceiling. He immediately sat upright and gasped for air. Actually, he'd have settled for any of the basics right then. Air. Shelter. Sanity. Any of those three would have been nice. The giant hole in his roof left the room quite chilly, but at least there was plenty of fresh air to go around for his needy lungs. Soon thereafter, he saw the door to his bedroom open and in walked the young elf woman carrying a tray on which she'd laid out brunch.




Christmas Cracker



It was a lot of brunch. Half the things on the tray weren't to be found in the house, so it was anyone's guess as to how she'd wrangled them up.

"Hi again!" Her cheerful tone greeted him along with an equally cheerful smile before setting the tray at the foot of his bed. "I love your curtains! Figured I'd let you sleep for a while. Sleep's good for the soul."

"Uh.." Wendall sat up and she helpfully leaned in behind him to fluff up his pillow. This gave him a very close up view of her features, and those pointed ears in particular.

They weren't fake.

"So you're probably wondering what the fuck an elf is doing crashing into your house and calling you Santa Claus?" she asked, standing up straight again and setting her hands on her hips.

Wendall nodded dumbly.

"Good news! You haven't gone crazy. See?" She reached in and pinched his arm hard.

"Fucking ow!"

"There, now would I have been able to do that if I was a hallucination brought on by a psychotic episode?"

"I dunno, haven't had a psychotic episode before."

"Hmm, good point!" She lifted a hand to her chin contemplatively. "Wanna go for a ride in the sleigh then? Never heard of someone who went so crazy that they could fly before."

"Is that coffee?" He pointed to the steaming cup on the tray.

"Hot-cocoa! Wiiiiith..." She reached over and pulled the top from a tiny silver serving platter to reveal what was underneath. "Marshmallows!"

"Give. Please."

"Yes, sir!" She handed him the cup, and then plopped a fluffy marshmallow inside.

He put the cup to his lips and took a drink that made him feel a whole lot better. It was just hot enough to drink without scolding him, and the fresh sweetness of the chocolate seemed slightly spiced with something that warmed him from the tips of his ears to his toes.

"Mmmm." He closed his eyes and smiled for the first time in months.

"You like it?"

He opened his eyes to see the elf had leaned in close with barely-restrained excitement. In fact, she was so close that their noses almost touched. He stared into those twinkling green eyes for a moment. There was an odd tension. Something that made the hairs on his arms stand up, and created a different kind of pleasant warmth in the pit of his stomach.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Oh yeah!" She leaned back and clapped her hand to her forehead. "I'm such a dumbass. I'm Callie." She stepped back and offered him a formal bow of introduction. "I'm one of Santa's Helpers as well as a whipper-upper of delicious hot chocolates, and apparently a truly shitty driver of flying sleighs." She tilted her head back and look at the giant hole in the ceiling. "Really sorry about that. I'll have the workers come and take care of it before it rains."

"Nice to meet you Callie. I'm Wendall." He took another sip of the cocoa and extended his free hand to shake hers.

She seemed delighted by that, and took his hand in both of hers to shake it vigorously. Whilst she did he took the time to consider her now that she was up close.

More locks of bright red hair had spun out from beneath the rim of her hat, and they made those deep tinsel-green eyes seem to come alive in new ways. Her face was prettily slender, with high cheek bones and a downright infectious smile. Freckles were smattered across her naturally rosy cheeks on otherwise flawlessly creamy skin. Though she carried a youthful appearance, her eyes reflected a deep and alluring wisdom and an impish mischief that was perhaps a little more naughty than nice. He would have placed her in the early to mid-twenties.

She wore a simple emerald green smock pulled tight to her waist with a thick black leather belt clasped with a gleaming golden buckle. The smock buttoned up the front with matching golden buttons, and beneath it the thick red and white leggings were plainly visible from beneath the short skirt of the dress.

"Hey Wendall, my eyes are up here," though she chided him, the smile never quite left her lips.

Realising he'd been staring at her, he immediately lifted his gaze to meet hers and felt the heat rising to his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Callie. I... I don't quite know what to make of all this. Although I'm rather sure you've demolished the roof of the wrong man. I'm 41 years old. I think if I were Santa Claus I'd know about it by now." He took another sip of the delicious drink.

"I never said you were Santa Claus. I said you were the next Santa Claus." Getting down to business, she took her own cup of hot chocolate before stuffing it with as many marshmallows as she could get away with and finally taking a big glug.

"What?" He let out a small laugh. "Like in that movie with Tim Allen?"

"Who's Tim Allen?"

"He was a guy in a movie about Santa Claus."

"Oooooh, we're not allowed movies up north. Old Santa said they rotted your brains or something. Anyhoo, Santa Claus is kind of a title. It goes from one guy to the next down family lines. You're next in line if you're up for it. Or I just twiddle my fingers and do some magic so you forget I was ever here and I head on off to find the next guy in line for the job."

"I think that might be best. I'm not exactly full of Christmas spirit at the moment. I wouldn't want to spoil anyone else's good time though."

"Oh, I see." She visibly deflated to the point that even her hat seemed to droop.

"I mean, I'm going through a divorce that's been quite painful. I'm also not sure if I haven't gone rather mad with it all. It's been feeling like I might go that way recently, and it seems to make more sense to me than that I've inherited the job of Santa Claus. Even with all the, ah..." he looked up to the giant hole in the ceiling at the darkening sky above, "...evidence."

"I guess that's understandable. Ok then who's next on the-" She clicked her fingers and a scroll of parchment appeared out of seemingly nowhere. After rolling it open, her eyes widened in sudden terror. "Oh no. No, no, no, no, no."

"What's the matter?" He dropped his empty cup into his lap.

"Damien Claw!? He's a corporate lawyer in LA who owns stock in five strip clubs! I can't go ask him to be Santa! No, nope, not gonna do it. Not again. No way." She started pacing back and forth, shaking her head vehemently.

In her hand, the parchment started glowing hot to the point where the corners began smouldering.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" Callie tried to drop the paper, but it stuck to her hand and then started moulding to the shape of her fingers. It looked like someone was pouring molten metal slowly up her arm. The poor elf jumped around in pain, trying desperately to get it off but the parchment refused to fall.

"Wait! Wait, stop! I'll do it! I'll do it!" He put his cup on the bedside table and swished his feet out to land on the floor.

Immediately the parchment reformed itself into a harmless piece of paper. He noticed his name, elegantly written upon its surface, started glowing with white light the moment he'd agreed. He'd run over to her side, and both the man and the elf watched as the writing started shifting. The name Wendall Klaus swirled away and was slowly reshaped into Santa Claus.

Callie looked up at him, her eyes glistening now with more than their natural glimmer.

"Thank you."

"It's quite alright. Your hand..."

He trailed off as she lifted the hand that had been burned to show it was already mostly healed over. Before his eyes, he saw the blisters and burns fade away back to her creamy skin until she finally wiggled her fingers.

"Super-elf healing powers." She nodded up at him with sage-like wisdom, then she stood up on her tiptoes and placed a light kiss on his cheek. "Seriously, thank you so much for doing this. You're gonna be great! I just know it!"

"What would have happened if I hadn't accepted?"

"I'm guessing the spell would have pretty much slowly melted me. It's made to hurt for a long time until the owner does its will, but if I'd managed to hold out then it would have killed me and gone on to the next elf it could find."

"Jesus Christ! What kind of sick bastard would make something like that?"

"It was some Santa in the middle ages. That's who decided that the title and the power should descend along his bloodline."

"I thought Santa was supposed to be a good guy?"

"Ha! Yeah, right! The last one was a real piece of work." She was looking back at the parchment now, and seemed to suddenly remember who she was talking to. "Shit! Sorry, sir! Didn't mean to get all offensive toward your ancestor there."

"It's quite alright. It's not like I knew him. Still, I wish this wretched thing would burn up." He looked down at the list of names of suitable ancestors.

It promptly burst into flames, leaving a smattering of black dust across the carpet. Callie had reacted quickly enough when she'd heard his words to throw it far enough away from them that they didn't get singed.

"What the hell happened there?" he asked.

"You're the boss now, boss. All the ones that came before you? Their magic is your magic. You're Santa Claus now! When it comes to the rules of the season, you make 'em and you break 'em." She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to give him another hug. This time she managed to avoid nearly asphyxiating him, and he was content to let the pretty elf hug him as much as she liked. She smelled faintly of cinnamon.

Wendall liked cinnamon.

"I see." He didn't really. "Well, what's next?"

"Next, we finish brunch and then head on up to the north pole. Get you suited up, and in shape for the big night." She encouragingly straightened out the lapels of his dressing gown. "Then, we Christmas the living fuck out of this month!"

"And what exactly does that entail? I mean, when I was a boy I found the presents my parents had hidden in the airing cupboard. I was under the impression that was the same for everyone."

"Yeah, it's been pretty weak for the past century or so." She put her hands behind her back and drooped again. "Old Santa kind of made everyone forget what used to happen."

"What used to happen?"

She lit up with a truly radiant smile at that, and for a few moments it seemed like she was literally glowing.

"Everything was real! All the stories you heard? Presents under the tree, coal if you were bad, and the snow! And the magic!"

"Ok, and why the hell did the last guy stop all that?"

"He was kind of an asshole."

That got a rather unexpected burst of laughter from him. Santa Claus was an asshole? 

"Alright then," he said, "what say we finish brunch here and then see about getting the sleigh outside the right way up?"

"Sure thing!"

In her excitement, she quite forgot her manners. For such a small and slim creature, she could sure put away food like nothing he'd ever seen. He sipped at his hot chocolate and took a few cookies and a slice of spiced cake from the tray to eat as he watched her gobble up the rest. When she finished the last crumb, she punctuated the finale with a loud burp.

"Charming," he noted with faint amusement. "I'll just get showered and dressed then I'll be right down."

"Ok!" she nodded.

She didn't move, watching him intently as she awaited him to disrobe.

"You should probably wait downstairs."

"Are you sure? I could help!"

It then occurred to him that he was standing in his bedroom with a beautiful, young twenty-something who was apparently very nonchalant about seeing him naked. Wait, did she just mean she'd help him disrobe or did she want to help him out in the shower? It had been months since... No! Hey there evil train of thought, stop right there.

"No, that's fine. Thank you, Callie. I'll be down in a little while. You wait downstairs."

"Sure thing!" She hopped once on the spot and then zipped out of the room leaving a trail of cookie crumbs in her wake.

Wendall took a deep breath and went for a cold shower. This was crazy. He was crazy. Everything had gone completely nuts. On the other hand it sure had taken his mind off his divorce for a while. Kind of in the same way breaking a finger can make you overlook stubbing your toe on something. Freaking Santa Claus?

As he stepped out of the shower, he looked across into the bathroom mirror. He certainly didn't look much like a Santa. He looked more like a "before" example of a guy they'd use in an ad for male pattern baldness. Looking down over himself, he gave his belly a poke. Ok, perhaps he'd made a start towards the Santa look in that department. Though it wasn't like he was hideous to look at. His jaw was pretty chiselled, and his smile was warm and inviting. By far and away his most striking feature were his eyes that were a very intense shade of vibrant blue.

Now all he needed was a massive white beard and a white wig, along with the rosy cheeks and red nose of a man with a long-term drinking problem. After developing a short-term drinking problem, it wasn't a phase he was keen to revisit. Not even to make himself look the part.

Not wanting to leave Callie waiting, he rushed back into his bedroom and picked out some clothes. Then, figuring he might be away for a few days, he pulled the suitcase from under the bed that he'd packed up to move out there. He repacked the things he'd been using including his PJ's, dressing gown, and slippers. He took one last look around his bedroom and hauled the suitcase downstairs.

He found Callie knelt in front of his widescreen TV in awe as she fiddled around with the remote.

"You'll get square eyes doing that," he said.

"It's sooo awesome! I want one. No, wait, I want three!" She followed that up by opening out her arms to give the TV a hug.

"Ok, but maybe later on after whatever we need to do next?"

"Oh, yeah! Right." She turned and stood up before nodding with fresh determination. "I like your tie!"

"Thanks." He'd opted for his work clothes of a suit and tie, since you never quite knew when you'd need to make a good impression. He might be about to meet the Tooth Fairy or something.

They both walked out together onto the back field and looked at the overturned sleigh with the reindeer still milling about looking distinctly bored.

"Ok, do you want to help me? From that bear hug I'm guessing you're stronger than I am."

Callie's grin had a distinctly impish lilt to it.

"Why don't you give it a try, boss?"

"It looks pretty heavy. I don't think I'll be able to manage it by myself. Maybe if I pull the car around and winch it upright somehow?"

"I'd give it a go the old fashioned way first." Her eyelashes fluttered all-too innocently.

"Alright, but when I get a hernia I'm blaming you."

Walking over to the fallen sleigh, he crouched down and took a deep breath whilst digging his fingers under the earth at the side to get a good grip. Then with a great effort he lifted the thing with all his strength.

He lifted it right over his own head as if it barely weighed a thing.

"Holy shit!" He almost dropped the thing on his face, and it wobbled some in the air before he set it back down, along with the grateful back legs of two of the reindeer that had been hauled up in the air with it.

"Ha! Toldja!" Callie clapped her hands in approval and then ran around to the side of the sleigh to settle in the passenger seat before taking up the reins and offering them to him.

"Oh, I don't know about that. Maybe you should drive. I had a hard enough time driving a manual gear shift. Not sure if I could wrangle nine reindeer in one direction to save my life."

As if they completely understood his apprehension, each of the animals immediately formed ranks with military precision. Then they started shifting their hooves to kick up a few clumps of dirt in a show of wanting to get going.

"I think it's better if you drive," Callie argued. "They don't really fly properly for anyone but Santa, anyways. I almost died trying to get here."

Wendall looked over the reindeer, and they looked right back at him. Rudolph actually winked.

"Alright, might as well get used to trying weird new stuff. I..." He trailed off then and looked back to his house. "Actually I'll be right back. Something I've got to do real quick."

"What is it? Something wrong?"

"Nope!" He yelled back as he ran back to the kitchen door. "Just need to sign off on something before we leave!"

After opening the door, he rushed over to the kitchen table and plucked up the pen that waited for him there. Without hesitating, he signed on the dotted line before dialling his soon-to-be former wife's number.

"Hi, it's Amelia, can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message!" A beep followed.

"Hey Amelia. The papers are signed. They're on the kitchen table at the country house. I'm leaving for a while, so you're going to have to come and get them yourself. You won't be able to call me back. I'm headed overseas for the foreseeable future." He paused a moment, figuring he should say something more but nothing felt right. Finally, he took a breath and settled on just the one word. "Goodbye."

* * * * *

"Whoa, you're really good at this!" Callie yelled as they flew up toward the clouds with the wind rushing past them.

"Thanks!" Even he had to admit that if there was a knack to reindeer flying, he definitely had it.

"So where are we headed?"

"North!" She patted the compass set on the front of the sled.

"Oh yeah! Obviously, right?" He adjusted his course accordingly until the arrow pointed to the big N on the dial.

They climbed up through the clouds with effortless ease and blinding speed. Rudolph and the gang seemed to want to cut loose and go faster in what he suspected was an effort to show off. He steadied them and they slowed obediently, letting him enjoy the scenery.

"So, how are you liking being Santa so far?" Callie asked, scooting closer to him on the leather seat.

"I could get used to it!" He grinned.

"Great! Want a blowjob?"

For some bizarre reason at that moment the sleigh suddenly did a full-on loop-the-loop and very nearly crash landed into a mountainside in northern Scotland. It took him a while to realise he was upside down, and to deal with the fact that somehow he hadn't fallen out of the sleigh. Then he righted the strange vehicle, and turned slack-jawed towards Callie.

"Are you trying to kill us? Don't make jokes like that when I'm driving!"

Callie's smile turned from impish to downright predatory as she scooted even closer until she was pressed against his side.

"Who said anything about a joke? Being Santa comes with a few perks, you know." Her hand slid under his arm to slowly stroke along his thigh, sliding along the inner length of his leg before gently cupping his cock. "Like all the elven pussy you could ever want."

"Oh fuck!" He felt himself harden to granite-like arousal beneath her touch. "Is this some sort of test? Are you seeing if I'll prove myself?"

A low purr that might have been a giggle lifted in her throat before she leaned in to softly kiss his cheek, then when he turned to look at her she planted another kiss full on his mouth. Resisting at that point was pretty much physically impossible. Wendall was still mostly human, and the magic that would make him legendary hadn't quite set in yet. Callie on the other hand was a 100% elven creature of pure magic, and she wanted him to enjoy himself.

She was very good at making him enjoy himself.

The kiss started soft, a gentle caress of greeting that steadily deepened as her tongue escaped between silken lips to lightly lick against his. He hungrily accepted the offer and opened his mouth until their tongues were slowly and intimately massaging each other. Her free hand wrapped around the back of his head to hold him into the kiss, whilst the occupied one slowly lowered the zipper on his pants.

With nimble fingers, she slid his heated cock from its trappings and caressed the engorged member in the open air. Thankfully, the sleigh radiated enough magic to keep the air oxygenated at high altitudes, and more importantly at that moment, to stop the temperature from plummeting to a degree that appendages might start snapping off. The little minx kissed him with a fresh hunger as she ran her fingers from the base of his cock upwards. Her delicate touch grew more excited as it seemed a very long way to travel to the tip. That was what finally made her break their ravenous lip lock and look down into his lap to see that the sleigh was now sporting a mast so large that she fancied their vehicle could have been reclassified as a ship of the line.




Christmas Cracker



"Fucking nom!" She gleefully yelled before plummeting her head into his lap.

Before Wendall quite remembered where he was after that soul-searing kiss she'd laid on him, he found himself on the receiving end of a truly masterful blowjob. She'd wasted no time in teasing and in that first plunge had introduced the swollen plumb of his cock to her tonsils. He'd never felt such raw enthusiasm for the act before, although he remembered faintly that there was someone who had done it before for him. She wasn't nearly this talented. What was her name again? Oh well. Who the hell cared, anyway?

He watched and held the reins of the sleigh in one hand as the other came to rest on the back of Callie's head. Each time her head bobbed up and down in his lap the bell of her hat jingled. Her lips sealed around him and she suckled as greedily as he'd seen her gobble up the food from the tray. In fact, she seemed even more ravenous now with her tongue merrily flicking along the underside of his shaft to coax out what was clearly one of her favourite drinks.

Given that he hadn't exactly spent much time relieving that pressure in the past months, it didn't take much of her candy-cane swallowing before he sent thick ropes of hot cum across her waiting tongue. She wasted no time at all in swallowing it all down as if she was half-starved.

"Fuck me, Callie! Where the hell did that come from?" he asked after finally catching his breath.

"You wanna fuck now? Awesome!" She lifted her head after releasing the tip of his cock from between her lips with an audible pop. "Just let me get these leggings off."

"I wasn't being that literal!" He reached out to stop her from pulling up her smock. "Callie, that was..."

"Really fun?"

"Really wrong! I must be twice your age for crying out loud!"

"I'm 1,672 years old. I'm pretty sure if anyone's the cradle robber here then it's me."

"That's... Wait, really?" He blinked at her. She looked damn good for a 1,672 year old. "Never mind that! It's still wrong! We're in Santa's sleigh!"

"I know! Isn't it great? Talk about joining the mile-high club in style. Just let me get my tights off and then you can bend me over the back of the seat and-"

"Callie! No." He said with a firmness that she hadn't heard from him before. "I can't do this right now. You'll keep your tights on and sit down beside me."

The order was given and she followed it immediately this time, with a startling degree of rigidity. It was as if she couldn't resist sitting down next to him, placing her arms at her sides and sitting up ram-rod straight. The expression on her features indicated that she was actually fighting some strange urge to follow his orders, but couldn't quite bring up the willpower.

"Dammit, why? Wasn't it good?"

That actually made him laugh aloud that she could possibly think such a thing.

"Now I'm starting to think you're the one who's insane. It was amazing. In fact, I can pretty much say that it was without a doubt one of the best moments of my entire life."

She perked up again then, her body relaxing from the rigid position it had taken. "So what's the hold up?"

"It doesn't feel right, ok? This is a lot for me to deal with. I suppose the only way to handle it is one step at a time. So let me do that, please? Don't jump ahead too far or you might lose me."

"That's fair, I guess." She looked down to the bells on her shoes, obviously disheartened.

"Let's just get to the North Pole and you can show me what I've inherited."

"Then after you can fuck me?" She perked up again.

"Sure, what the hell. After I get settled in we'll take a holiday somewhere together. Maybe go pole-to-pole or something."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"See, now you're on your way to becoming my idea of the best Santa ever. I think we should go on a margarita cruise."

* * * * *

Shortly after that conversation he turned the reindeer loose, and at full speed they were at the North Pole within minutes.

"I don't see anything up here!" he yelled over to Callie as he circled the reindeer above what appeared to be a whole lot of arctic wasteland.

"Yeah, we had to move the whole place under the ice a few centuries ago! Didn't want people showing up early lookin' for presents. Wait for it!"

After another full circle, he saw what she'd told him to wait around for. The ice itself opened up for them, arising up to reveal two rows of pillars holding it aloft, in-between which there was a tunnel leading deep underground. It would have been quite a narrow fit to get the reindeer and sleigh down there, but he guessed that they'd done it a few times before.

"Alright guys, don't go making me look bad on our first landing!" He gave them a yell of encouragement and they started the descent.

About half way through the landing, he made the mistake of casting a glance over to Callie and saw she was holding on to her hat and looking nervous. The gaping hole in the ice grew steadily larger as they neared it, and the reindeer guided them inside with a sudden loud whoosh of air. The sleigh landed smoothly on the icy surface of the tunnel and they were no longer flying but sliding through a long and winding passage. Wendall looked around seeing hanging fairy lights illuminating their way. Although when he looked closer, he saw that they weren't fairy lights but actual fairies. They'd emerged from little holes in the ice to light the way as the tunnel closed up behind them.

The tunnel eventually opened out into the stables. An enormous domed room adorned with Christmas decorations and a veritable army of elves awaiting their return. The cheers went up as the sleigh settled at the centre of the room and the elves greeted their returning boss.

"He looks great!"

"I love his smile!"

"Aw, he looks like he's about to shit himself!"

"What's with the suit? Is he an accountant? Oh well, can't be worse than the last guy!"

"I really like his tie!"

He did his best to smile and wave. For most of his life he'd barely had a fuss made over him, even for his birthday, so being on the receiving end of that much good will was quite an experience. When Callie got out of the sleigh he stood up to follow her down into the masses, except when he did the entire place fell silent.

A rather horrific moment of dawning realisation occurred when it became clear they were waiting for him to speak. An equally disturbing thought occurred when he realised he hadn't zipped himself up after Callie's excellent blowjob. So rather than addressing the elves, he spent the first few seconds pointedly looking at his crotch. (Naturally, Callie had zipped him up herself immediately once she'd finished and it was nothing to worry about.) 

He then looked to her for assistance with what to do, but she only smiled encouragingly and nodded up to him from beside the sleigh. Crap. He took a deep breath and stood up, trying to calm himself before a collection of alarmingly attractive elves who were all looking at him expectantly.

"Hello everyone!"

"Hail, Santa!" The elves all raised their right arm immediately and stood ram-rod straight.

Wendall blinked in horror. What the fuck was that!?

"Er... right. Arms down, please! Thanks. I didn't know you'd all be here to greet me like this. Thank you! It makes me feel so welcome down here. I don't really know what I'm doing here yet, but I promise to try to be the best Santa, and the best boss that you've all ever had."

There was a rather awkward pause then, and he offered a little wave before moving to walk off the sleigh. The elves burst into a sudden and deafening cheer that seemed to shake the immense room to its foundations.

"He's awesome!"

"I knew this would be the best one yet!"

"I really love his tie!"

He wobbled slightly as he'd been trying to dismount the sleigh with the help of a couple of elves when they'd started cheering. Then he smiled and continued waving and shaking hands as he made his way through the crowd to follow Callie wherever she was going. It was wonderful to hear such a positive response, but once they left the stables things started getting more problematic. They walked up a flight of stairs together to emerge in an enormous workshop. He gawked at the sheer size of the place.

Unfortunately, despite its awe-inspiring scale, the workshop wasn't a pretty sight to behold. In fact it was one of the most depressing places he'd ever seen in his life, and he'd worked in his fair share of depressing places. Everything seemed to be comprised of grey metal and black conveyor belts. Exhausted elves sat at the belts assembling a number of items, none of which appeared to be festive. A few of them looked like they were falling over in their seats and most had a sickly, greyish skin tone. He stopped short when they turned a corner and saw one of them assembling what appeared to be an M-4 assault rifle.

"What in the hell is going on here?" 

"We should talk in your office," Callie winced at his tone. "I figured you might get a little freaked out by all this."

"Freaked out? That guy looks like he's nearly dead. And is that a fucking sidewinder missile!?"

"This is a branch of our weapons production platform. I can explain-"

"Nope, no you can't. Oi! You lot!" As he spoke his voice rang out from every corner of every part of the factory, all of the elves in the workshop stopped and turned to look at him. A few of them were startled out of their seats and fell from their conveyor positions to land on the floor with a thud before their heads popped up wearily looking for the source of the noise. "I'm your new boss, and until I tell you otherwise you are all officially on vacation. Go get some dinner and then go to bed until you feel better."

There was a long pause after that, and then the weary faces started turning into grateful smiles. Tiredly, they started moving out of a number of doors in the facility to go to bed. When he turned back to Callie she was crying, although there was a big smile on her quivering lips.

"Who the hell was the last Santa anyway?"

Since most of her kin had filed out of the building, she didn't seem to want to hold back any longer. She continued walking, explaining as he fell into step beside her.

"He was a turn of the 20th century industrialist from America." She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Can I be honest?"

"Sure."

"Thanks. He was a nasty, tyrannical, dipshit who didn't really like the idea of magic but saw what he called 'potential' in us. Free workers. No limits. He called making people buy their own presents for each other privatizing the grunt work. Then he set up a few companies and started importing from the workshops and making a huge profit off the merchandise. We're magic workers, Wendall. We can make anything, and we can improve it too. He made a fortune, and sold Christmas away by turning it into a damned trade fair reliant on greed rather than need or hope. He even took away the memory of how it used to be, so people wouldn't want it back how it was. They'd just think we were a fairy story."

"Shit. That sounds awful. I'm sorry."

She sniffed again, then took a large handkerchief out of a pocket in her smock and loudly blew her nose.

"Ok, so what was with the scary-ass salute back there?"

"Ugh, believe me, you don't want to know."

"Jeez. So for the past century Santa Claus has been a fascistic, heartless capitalist?"

She nodded. "Yeah, and kind of a sex maniac."

"Huh?"

"Well..." she was evidently trying to go about explaining the matter as delicately as possible. "See, before he came along most other Santas would either already have a wife or pick one of us after a while and she'd be Mrs. Claus and that would be that. Any time Santa got frisky, it was Mrs. Claus's job to see to it. Except our last Santa didn't really accept that, and took a liking to more than one of us. He didn't need to do much any more what with the deliveries not needing to be made every year. So his office and residence kind of turned into a giant non-stop Santa-Elf orgy. I guess that's what Victorian sexual repression gets ya."

"Ok, now you're just fucking with me."

"Heh, well..." She scratched the back of her head and suddenly got very fidgety.

"You were in Santa's orgy, weren't you?"

"Yeah. I know it probably sounds weird, but I was really lucky. The ones that work out here? You've seen them. It's not exactly the holiday ideal, is it? Then there's the ones you met out in the hall. They're the most photogenic ones he kept apart for PR purposes, and the most beautiful of those he kept for himself."

"Damn, that sounds horrible."

"It's actually not so bad going day to day. I mean, I'd rather have Christmas back to the way it was, but I usually spent most of my days with other elves gettin' our pointy-eared freak on. Old Santa wasn't into the guys, but he liked watching them with us."

"Wait, what do you mean PR purposes? I'm pretty sure if there'd have been an Elf cover shoot in Vogue magazine it'd have made the news."

She smiled and gently nudged him with her elbow.

"Nah, it's like for keeping just enough Christmas spirit out there so that he could keep doing what he was doing without everyone realising he was completely fucking pointless. Crimeny, I'm sorry! I pull you out here saying you get to be Santa and then drop all this on you. I'm so very sorry, Wendall. I'm a horrible elf. I just had to get you out here. You seemed so nice, and the next in line was probably going to be just as horrible as the last one."

"Actually, I don't think you're a bad elf. I think you're a damn cute elf. I'm also not mad at you. I was kind of terrified of coming here. I somehow managed to screw up my last life, and I thought that coming here was going to be a whole load of me making a mess of things. But now? Crikey, it's not like I could do much fucking worse."

"That is a point that I didn't really consider. I like your attitude, Santa." She gave him another playful nudge and then lifted herself up to kiss his cheek again. "Now let's go check out your office and we'll start putting things right around here."

"Yes ma'am." He nodded.

They walked through a number of the enormous factory rooms, along metal walkways and up and down many flights of stairs. All of them were now largely abandoned, as his voice had rang out through the entire place to every overworked elf he'd been addressing.

"Oh come on, really?" he said in near-total disgust when she led him up a final flight of stairs toward a perfectly scenic log cabin set beneath a fake but damn-impressive open sky that glittered above. Wendall turned around to see a great open chasm before it with thousands of conveyor belts. It was one of the biggest factory chambers he'd seen. His predecessor had apparently lapped it up in luxury whilst overlooking what must have been a truly intense volume of abject misery from his workers.

It was only then that a terrible thought crossed his mind.

"Callie, where are the kids and the old elves?"

She looked back over her shoulder at him with a reassuring smile as they ascended to the cabin. "There aren't any, Wendall. There never were. We don't really work that way, because we're mostly magical creatures. We don't grow old. We just are. You won't get any older now, either."

"Oh, well that's a relief. Did not want to see children or old folks getting worked half to death around here. Although, immortality huh?"

"Yes, I'm afraid you'll see everyone you ever cared for pass away. It can be difficult."

"The only person I loved was my ex-wife, and I'm pretty sure my reaction to her dying will be less mourning and more along the lines of dancing on her grave."

They reached the cabin with an amused laugh from Callie before the door flew open and another elf burst out into the snowy shelf in front of the large drop into the factory.

"You gave him a blowjob!?" The distressed elf screeched at Callie. "That's cheating!"

The newcomer had a distinctly different look to the others. She was wearing a green bikini, with golden strings wrapped across her hips and over her shoulders. Waves of beautiful golden hair cascaded down to her shoulders, and she looked staggeringly gorgeous even with her face set in a snarl.

"I was trying to get him to come here!" Callie argued rather unconvincingly.

"You were trying to get his cum in your belly, you mean! You know what we agreed! No seducing the new boss until we've all had a chance to meet him." It was only then that the new arrival seemed to finally notice Wendall, and she froze for a few moments when she realised who he was.

Shortly after that, a beautiful smile set on her cherry red lips, and she offered a graceful bow that reminded him of something a ballerina might do. Looking up at him with gleaming blue eyes, she finally introduced herself.

"Hello, sir. I'm Elina. I'm sorry about that. It's just that I was the former Mrs. Claus, and I'm rather hoping to reapply for that position if you should desire the company."

"Er..." Wendall felt caught between a rock and a hard place for a few moments, and then decided to go the straightforward route and offered out his hand to Elina. "Nice to meet you."

She looked at the hand as if she might be expected to lick it or something, and then finally remembered what a handshake was. "Oh! Of course." She extended her own hand and shook. "It's wonderful to meet you too. I like your tie."

"Yes, the tie has been a big success all around." He nodded with a little chuckle. "Callie told me there wasn't a former Mrs. Claus on account of the former Mr. Claus being a bit on the, erm, hyperactive side."

If the implication of those words bothered Elina it didn't show in the slightest. She simply shrugged noncommittally and nodded.

"He was. I was more of a madam than a wife, I suppose. Still, he did give me the ring and the power that comes with it."

"Power?"

"Oh, she hasn't told you that part yet then? Yes. Power." Elina glared over at Callie who was making a distinct point of looking at the bells on her toes again. "If you choose to take a Mrs. Claus then she becomes a high-elf."

"That sounds nice." Truth be told, he had no idea how it sounded. Did it mean she'd get taller?

"It is. I rather liked it. I would do anything to regain that position, no matter how nice or naughty it might be." She stepped forward and lifted her hand to gently straighten out his tie in a manner that suggested she was very capable of straightening out other things.

"Excellent!" Wendall certainly admired her eagerness to get to business, and decided it was time to get something done. "Right then, let's get to work. I'd like you to get all the elves that my predecessor turned into sex slaves, including yourself, and have them get dressed in their work clothes. They, along with the photogenic guys who were there to greet me, will be filling in for the others whilst they get some rest."

Elina looked over to the seemingly endless empty conveyor belts with a look of dread that drained all the colour from her achingly beautiful features.

"Don't panic," Wendall continued, gesturing to the workhouse behind him. "All that shit stops today. You really want to impress me?"

The elf looked back at him, confused but nodding with affirmative determination.

"Ok then, do you have any hierarchy at all?"

She shook her head. "I just had sex, and before that I made presents."

"We all did. Santa was the only one who told us what to do."

"Alright, well I don't have that kind of time right now so I need floor managers. One for every fifty elves. For every ten of them I want a regional manager. For every 5 regional managers I want a captain. Captains report to me here as soon as you've got them. Whilst I'm talking with them I want the current products cleared off the lines and the lines prepped to make anything I want. After every 2 hours of work, all elves can take a half-hour break or a fifteen minute break every hour with one hour in the work day for lunch. The day starts at 9am and ends at 5pm and any workers staying on after that are welcome to stay and help out but are not obliged to. I do not want to see tired elves on my production lines. You got all that?"




Christmas Cracker



Elina nodded, though her mouth hung open and she was looking at him in wide-eyed wonder.

"Get to it then. Let me know when you've got those captains."

"Y-yes sir! Hail, Santa!" She offered him another disturbing salute.

"Oh, and for fuck sake cut that out. It scares the hell out of me. Make sure you tell the others too. I can take a 'yes, sir' if you feel the need, but please don't make me feel like I'm about to invade Poland." He gave her a cheerful smile with that.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." With that, and thankfully without any saluting, the blonde elf ran back inside to get dressed.

The door opened again soon thereafter and Elina sprinted back in through it to give him a very enthusiastic and utterly genuine hug. Her arms wrapped over his and squeezed him tight with that same strength as Callie had demonstrated earlier. The hug was so tight that he felt something in his spine click and found himself standing up straighter every day thereafter. Elina finally released him with a slight blush to her cheeks before running off again without a word to do as she'd been asked.

Callie gave him a little poke in the arm and he looked down to find her beaming up at him.

"Where did all that assertiveness come from, bossman?"

"A two-week long management training course and a can-do attitude."

"Damn. Santa Claus is really coming to town, huh?"

"You better watch out." He flashed her a smile that made her insides go all warm and fuzzy.

"You just made me so happy that I think I came a little."

"How did she know about what happened in the sleigh?" He didn't particularly like the idea of anyone spying on them.

"Probably Prancer yacking away to Elsie. She runs the stables and she's in charge of the reindeer. Prancer can't always keep her mouth shut."

"They can talk!?"

"Yeah, you'll hear start to hear them eventually. It's getting them to shut up that's the problem. Prancer's got a real motor mouth. Dasher's cool though, and Vixen is nice. Oh, and don't play poker with Donner."

"What about Rudolph?"

"Ugh, everyone always wants to know about him. Total nerd. Has a crush on Vixen, but always falls on his face before he gets close to her. I'm at least 90% sure that's how his nose got so red."

"There's a soft spot in my heart for nerds and goofballs." He gave her a pointed look with that last word.

"Hey! Careful who you're calling a goofball, buddy." She playfully hit him on the arm.

"Just calling it like I see it."

"Oh right, so what's your story then?" she challenged, leaning in closer again whilst seemingly remaining consistently perky.

"You know my story." His eyes grew somewhat distant with that.

"Not the divorce. Nice, well-meaning human being gets heart broken by complete asshole. Sorry to tell you this, boss, but that's not a new story. I meant what did you do? Who were you?"

Seemingly having no other option, he offered her a smile of resignation as they waited and then thought about it for a while before replying.

"I was a nerd in school. A big nerd. I loved toys, I loved stories, I loved games. People? I could kind of take them or leave them. Then, before I know it I'm 18 and it feels like I finally look up and see the world isn't all it's cracked up to be. So I take a couple of years out and tried to help out by volunteering at charities, mostly for the homeless or the sick. I liked the work, but I didn't see it really going anywhere. Kinda like slapping a band-aid on a broken water-main. Not really all that effective in the long run. So I went and decided to make some money so I could maybe do something bigger. Got into computers and development. Turns out that computers got to be pretty popular, and I managed to wrangle a good job at a big company. That's when I met Amelia.

"For a guy in his mid-twenties who was pretty late in cashing out his V-Card she pretty much ate me alive when she found me. I thought I'd gotten lucky. Hit the jackpot even. She was gorgeous, funny, nice. It's a hell of a curtain to pull over someone's eyes, and then when it's pulled back and you see how much you're being used it's-"

"Hey! Shhh with the ex-wife already. Stick to the you bits. She sucks. You're awesome."

"Thanks." He laughed somewhat self-consciously. "Well, I rose up the company and started with my own development team. We made and upgraded computer parts, microchips and such. Whatever the company needed. I made a lot of money, and started up with the plan of giving plenty of it back. Amelia didn't like that so much. Told me I was being silly and that there was probably a reason the homeless didn't have homes. I didn't really get that, so I kept my donations quiet. Finally cashed out for a pretty tidy settlement when the company was bought out a few years back. Then I went back to work for a charity and my marriage went down the toilet once the money stopped coming in like it had been."

"Wow. That sounds really cool!"

He raised a brow, wondering what she was talking about.

"Not the evil ex-wife part. You managed to build all that just to help people? You built things? That's really amazing, Wendall. See? I knew there was a reason I liked you so much."

"You like me?"

"Gee, I thought the blowjob was a big clue. Dumbass." She prodded him in the chest.

He quickly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up into a deep and tender kiss. She flung her arms around his shoulders and melted against him before they were quickly split apart by the sound of someone behind them clearing their throat.

They turned like they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar to see a number of nervous looking elven faces. At the front, wearing a much more steely expression, was Elina.

"Alright then guys, let's get to it!" Wendall clapped his hands, and the elves giddily rushed toward the stairs.

As Elina swept past him, he reached out to catch her arm and steady her as those big blue eyes lifted to look at him.

"Thank you," he said. "I don't really know what I'm capable of yet, but if you help me then I promise I'll do everything I can to make sure you get what you want for Christmas."

With that, he released her arm and after only a slight hesitation she nodded to him before heading down the stairs with the rest of the elves.

"Okie doke, let's see what my house is like on the inside." He reached down and took Callie's hand before they walked together through the snow toward the door.

He noted that although his footsteps plunged into the white powder, she was seemingly light enough to simply walk over it without so much as a trace. That brought a smile to his features. 

Callie reached over and opened the door to the cabin.

"Ok, that's definitely not what I expected." The inside of the cabin looked like a strip club crossed with Caligula's living room.

Everything was Christmas themed, from the red and white striped stripper poles to the dildos that glowed as red as Rudolph's nose. There was a lot of black marble with a garish amount of golden decoration. A couple of obvious showpieces of the room were: the centre stage big enough for several elves to dance on, a long and well-stocked bar, and an enormous black marble fireplace with a roaring blaze that crackled in the open air.

"I did try to warn you," Callie noted.

"Yeah, but even so. It's like the guy had about ten mid-life crises all at once."

"This isn't even the worst part. There's a dungeon downstairs. I do not recommend you go down there until the cleaning guys have spent at least three months scouring it."

Wendall curled his nose and nodded acquiescence.

"Ok, well I can't live here. It's way too fucked up. The only way I could get comfortable with this is by redecorating the walls with a flamethrower. Is there anywhere else I can stay?"

"Uh, I guess there's my room?"

"Oh I wouldn't want to put you out."

"No, that's ok. Let me at least show it to you?"

That was an offer he couldn't refuse. He was still very curious about his elven friend. Seeing where she lived might let him learn more about her.

"Alright then," he said. "Lead the way."

She grinned and then tugged his arm off in the direction of her room. She apparently resided inside the building, and he was swept out of the tacky strip joint towards the stairs. After leading him up two flights, and enhancing the swish of her hips to ensure he got a pretty great view of her butt along the way, they arrived at the office.

It was quite a change from the tasteless decadence of the rest of the place. Everything was decorated in warm shades of varnished wood, with a large Christmas tree standing in one corner of the room. The tree was beautifully decorated with golden and silver ornaments and topped with a bright golden star. Christmas wreaths decorated the walls with a smaller and more traditional fireplace set into the far wall. On the opposite side of the room was a large bookshelf stocked up with a number of old leather-bound tomes. Beside that stood a massive wooden desk with a feather quill settled inside an ink-well. Vast piles of papers adorned the work surface.

"This is your room?" Wendall asked.

"Not really, my room's next door. Before Santa went x-rated I helped with the list, and I guess I was something like a personal assistant too. Then the last guy happened and there wasn't really much work to do up here anymore so I kind of had the run of the place." She hurried over to the desk and lifted the papers to show the list she spoke of. He took it and looked over thousands of names, and saw whether they'd been naughty or nice. The nice ones had a tiny little angel drawn beside them, the naughty ones got a little red devil instead. Every time he got to the bottom of the page, it seemed to grow a little more and he guessed that it'd probably keep growing until they'd covered every human being on earth. "I kept them up to date. Old habit, I suppose. What do you think?"

She opened her arms out to the office and gave a little twirl.

"I think it's great!" the excitement in his voice was utterly genuine. "I can't wait to get started working here. You've kept it so brilliantly comfortable and welcoming. I think I'll definitely be staying here quite a bit, as long as you don't mind the company?"

"I think I'll manage. Just don't fuck up my filing system." She flashed an impish smile before rocking back and forth on her feet. "So, wanna see my bed?"

That particular offer was laced with a quite obvious suggestiveness. He was quite certain that if he allowed her to show him her bed they'd both wind up naked and sweaty under the covers within record time.

"Actually, I'm afraid I'll need to balance the books first. There's clearly a lot to go over here." He gestured at all the papers in the office.

"Oh," she drooped before plucking up some feigned encouragement to try and hide her disappointment. "No, that's totally ok! Do you need anything to get started?"

"Yes, there was one matter I wanted to sort out immediately. Let's see here..." He picked one of the books off the shelf at random and opened it without really looking at the contents. He traced his finger down a page before pretending to find what he was looking for. "Here it is! It seems I'm starting out this venture already in debt."

"What!? No way! How'd you get that from that book? It's a list of magical creatures that live in the North Pole. There shouldn't be any accounts in it. Lemme see."

She stepped over and attempted to swipe the book from his hands, but he stubbornly kept it just out of her reach whilst still pretending to read the details.

"Nope, it says here quite clearly that I'm deeply in debt. Apparently on the way over here some elf or other decided to administer a truly spectacular blowjob to Santa's cock, and now we're just not going to see the black again until he returns the favour." He shook his head mournfully before snapping the book closed.

She watched him with a suspicious gaze, though a small smile flickered about her lips that she couldn't quite stifle.

"So, let's make it our first order of business to sort that out." After setting the book back on the shelf, he took a seat at the desk and gave the thick wood a little pat. "Why don't you hop on up here and we'll get to balancing the books?"

"Yes, sir!" Callie eagerly hopped to it, and jumped to plant her firmly rounded rump on the varnished surface in front of him. "Although, you know nothing says 'thanks for the blowjob' quite like letting that elf give you another one."

"I like your thinking, but let's keep things as balanced as we can." 

He reached forward and slipped his hands under her smock just as she finished unbuckling her belt. His fingertips found the hem of her leggings and pulled the garments down along her legs revealing her smooth, milky white legs. She assisted in the matter by kicking off her shoes so that each one landed across the room with a jingle and a thud. He peeled the leggings off her feet leaving her practically naked from the waist down. The smock had fallen back between her legs to cover her pussy, and he savoured the moment, caressing her bare calves and thighs. Her toes had turned the same deep pink colour as her fingertips and cheeks as heat flushed outward to her extremities.

"Isn't it your turn now?" she asked, looking down between his legs and evidently wanting him to disrobe.

"No, my dear. This is all your turn."

Setting his chair directly in front of her, he leaned down to settle his head between her thighs and flicked up the little skirt of the smock. Her pink pussy was already gleaming with excitement, and it didn't take long before she started dripping onto the desk. The pink folds were swollen and ready, and her chest started rising and falling much faster as she felt his breath warming those silky petals.

"I don't get it. What are yooooooh my sweet fucking stars!" her naturally lyrical voice lifted to a squeak when she felt his lips plant a loving kiss on her tender pussy.

She released a little laugh as his moustache tickled her skin, though it quickly escalated into an elated squeal when his lips sealed over her hot slit and his tongue plunged inside her. Her hands immediately fell to grip the back of his head as she experienced his tongue exploring her for the first time. Her legs lifting up to rest over his shoulders encouraged him to plunge deeper into her tasty treat. Elf pussy suddenly soared up the ranks of his favourite flavours, with its natural sweetness and lighter flavours of spice and a refreshing, juicy lilt that made his taste buds tingle and immediately crave more.

As far as Callie was concerned, she was an instant all-he-could-eat buffet. Her legs shook and her body trembled with the impact of an almost immediate explosion of heat and bliss. It seemed her new boss was far from satisfied that 'the books' were balanced - as the first wave of pleasure subsided she found herself immediately plunged into the next. One of her hands lifted up from the back of her head to slide her fingers up into her hair. The floppy pointed hat was immediately dislodged to fall onto the desk revealing a striking crop of wild, red hair that seemed to burst out in all directions.

She was winding up for her fourth orgasm of the day when Wendall refocused his attentions from her delicious depths to focus to tend to the little nub of flesh hard-wired to her pleasure centres. The scream that followed was so loud that for an alarming moment he thought he might be hurting her. Although when he tried to lift his head to see if she was alright, he found both of her hands once again pressing his head down between her legs. He took that as a sign that 'the books' were nearly ship shape, and continued soldiering on; lightly lapping at her happy, little love button. At first he administered a few tender licks before fluttering his tongue against it as her hips started grinding her pussy into his chin. One of his arms wrapped around one of her thighs whilst the other slipped up between her legs to push two fingers inside her constantly convulsing cunt.

The feeling of his fingers inside her whilst his tongue continued to dance across her clit sent a series of resounding shockwaves up through her body. Her gasps fell silent, and only a few high pitched little squeaks escaped her throat as her petite frame spasmed and her pussy gushed with hot, sticky sweet juices.

She didn't know how long it lasted, but it felt as if it went on well into January. It occurred to her that breathing was a thing she should probably try to remember how to do. Her vision went fuzzy toward the end when Wendall finally lifted his head up and planted a soft kiss on her open lips. A sudden tightness came across her chest, and there was something important about it. She couldn't quite focus on it as she enjoyed the slow, indulgent caress of his lips and savoured the way he'd left her pussy practically sizzling for him. It was something about oxen. What? No, that couldn't be right. Why would she want oxen? Did they even have any oxen in the stables? No it was something else. It was-

Oxygen!

She broke the kiss to take a sudden deep gasp of air and then fell back on the desk desperately filling her lungs again and again. The world above her started spinning before finally straightening out again and revealing a slightly concerned-looking Wendall watching her. He'd stood up from the seat and his moustache furrowed with worry at her obvious exhaustion.

"Are you quite alright, Callie?" he asked.

A sudden peal of laughter from the elf came as her answer. She couldn't quite manage to form full words just then, but she did manage to give him two thumbs up.

"Oh, good. I thought I might have broken you there for a moment." He reached out and took her hands in his to pull her back up into a sitting position. "That was rather wonderful."

"Ha!" She finally got enough wits about her to reply. "That's underselling it just a smidge there, Wendall. I pretty much saw stars."

"Has no one ever done that for you before?"

"Yeah, kinda. Just not for a long while and not with quite that much finesse. Old Santa kinda figured that the clit was as mythical as he was supposed to be and didn't really pay attention. He sure as hell didn't do anything like that. I've had a few of the other girls go down on me, but we didn't really know what we were doing. Mostly, it was just fucking and blowjobs."

"I see. Well not to make a great issue out of it but I enjoyed that immensely. You taste absolutely delicious, you know. Quite unlike anything I've experienced before. Perhaps we should Ho! Ho! Ho! have a daily session?" He smiled, then paused and looked confused. Did he just yell out "ho, ho, ho" for no reason?

"Sure! Just don't keep it up so long without giving me a break or I'm gonna die happy right here of an orgasm overdose." Seeing his slight alarm at his own outburst, she reached out to fondly pat him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about that. You're Santa now, remember? Over the next few days you'll start noticing a few changes about yourself. You'll still be you though, just with a little added festive cheer and a bit more hair."

Lifting her hand from his shoulder, she lightly ran her fingers over the bald peak of his head with an affectionate degree of playfulness.

"I suppose that's not so bad then," he smiled and leaned in to take another kiss from her generously supplied lips.

"Nope, not too bad at all," she agreed after the brief but intimate lip lock.

"I suppose we could-"

"Ahem!" A voice lifted up from the corner of the office just by the doorway. They both turned to see Elina standing there with her arms folded and her foot taping a jingling tune on the floor. "All of your captains are here, sir. Everyone's been sorted as you requested and we're ready for your orders."




Christmas Cracker



"Uh..." Wendall blushed furiously at being caught in a clearly compromising situation with his currently pants-deprived friend. "Good! That's good. Thank you, Elina. I'll be right out."

The blonde elf paused only a few moments to stare icy daggers at Callie, who stuck her tongue out in Elina's general direction. With a strangled noise in her throat, the latter departed to leave them alone together.

"You were saying?" Callie encouraged.

"I was about to say that we should go to bed, but I'm afraid I'd forgotten about prior appointments."

"You are the boss, you know." She fluttered her eyelashes innocently. "You could take those meetings whilst pumping my pussy full of that big cock. It's clearly trying to make a break for it."

She fondly stroked the sizable lump in his pants, but he stepped away and straightened his tie before she could get her mitts in him.

"I think that would probably be a mite too distracting, and when that happens I'd rather have you all to myself."

"When that happens? So it's definitely going to happen then?" She swished her feet over the side of his desk with giddy anticipation.

"Unless one of us moves to the South Pole immediately I think it's a foregone conclusion at this point. I find myself rather at your mercy."

"You really feel that way?"

"I'm afraid so. Now please put your tights back on. We don't have the time to indulge ourselves properly right now, and I'm afraid seeing you like that is making me rather uncomfortable." He offered a slight laugh at that, and glanced down to where he was evidently straining against the crotch of his trousers.

"Gotcha!" She nodded before hopping off the desk and moving to get dressed back in her uniform. As she slipped one leg into the stripy tights, she looked back over her shoulder at him with a truly wicked little smile. "But don't think this is over. We aren't nearly finished balancing the books. I figure I owe you about forty blowjobs after that. I'll make sure to fit the time in your schedule."

* * * * *

They emerged from the office and walked back into the lounge/strip club to see 6 new elven faces turned towards them. Four looked distinctly nervous and had apparently never seen the inside of the grotto before. Wendall guessed that the poor workers weren't entirely sure what they were about to be asked to do.

"It's alright, folks. All this is left over from the last administration and most certainly wasn't my idea!" He absently kicked a festive coloured dildo out of his way as he approached the elves, who had now been joined by Elina. "It's these six?"

"Seven, including me, if that's agreeable," she nodded.

"Of course it is! Good for you, Elina," he gave her a cheerful and distinctly Santa-ish smile.

The blonde elf felt her annoyance with him dissipate suddenly, and eventually returned the smile with a slight blush.

"Now then, let's form a circle here. That's the ticket. Good! So then, seven captains going at the numbers I asked you to even up means there are between 1,700 to 1,800 elves at the workshop?"

"Yes, sir." Elina nodded. "I had to round up a little bit here and there, but we're roughly distributed along the lines you asked for."

"Wonderful!" Wendall clapped his hands. "Round of applause for Elina, everyone. That was well organized and much faster than I expected."

All the elves in attendance applauded with enthusiasm, including Callie. It seemed that elves didn't need to be told to be cheerful. It came naturally.

"Now then," Wendall continued. "My first order of business is to immediately sever any ties we have with the outside world for the time being. I don't want us supplying any corporate interests, no matter how much money they're making us. This is Santa's workshop for crying out loud! What the heck do we need money for when we've got magic. Right?"

After a brief pause it seemed to become clear that he was actually asking rather than being rhetorical.

"Um," one of the nervous elves spoke up, raising his hand. "We actually thought that too, but the last Santa told us that money makes the world go around." 

"Ok, well it's probably best to try and ignore a lot of what the last Santa told you. From what I've heard he was Santa Claus and didn't approve of magic. That's kind of dumb. So let's get back to basics."

"Yes, sir!"

"Great. Right then guys, I don't really know what I'm capable of yet, but it seems like it's up to us to give the world a much-needed infusion of Christmas cheer. Maybe bring about a little peace on Earth and good will towards all men whilst we're at it."

"Ahem!" Elina gave one of her pointed coughs.

"Sorry, good will towards all men and women."

She nodded with approval.

"As far as I can tell we've got about 17 days to pull this off. Santa Claus can ride around the entire planet in one night delivering presents, right? The only way I can think he does that is by somehow slowing down time for himself. So, is there any way I can do that now so we've got more time to catch up on production? I'm talking about making toys for all the good girls and boys here."

The elves looked between each other with worried expressions before Callie finally chimed up.

"I don't think it works that way, sir," she said. "All the other Santa's could only do the deliveries on Christmas Eve, at the height of their power. The deliveries were always the biggest trick we'd ever seen Santa pull off, and we don't know how he did it. It always came naturally to the ones who came before you."

"Damn. Well nothing like that is coming naturally to me just at the moment, so it looks like we'll have to improvise."

"What do you propose, sir?" Elina asked.

"If we don't have time to do what we're supposed to, then let's at least do what we need to. Focus on the poor, and those who've been good all year long and can't afford to give anything. You there." Wendall lifted his arm to point at the first elf in line who visibly gulped at being on the receiving end of his attention. "I want you to take the elves under your command and focus on that goal. I'm sorry we can't do more, but I'd at least like to ensure that we can do that on Christmas day. You," he pointed to the next one in line, "are going to take your team and make sure that we feed as many hungry mouths across the globe as possible. Don't limit it to just the ones that celebrate Christmas either, though I suppose they should get the priority. Especially if we're here in part because of their belief."

Both the elves nodded vigorously at the orders whilst mutually chiming up. "Yes, sir!"

"Get to it then. Organise those under you and let's get to work. There's not a moment to lose." Wendall nodded them on with their task and the two elves quickly disappeared out the door with such gusto that they got momentarily stuck together in the doorway before squeezing out of the grotto.

"What's next?" Callie asked.

"I don't know, I'm rather making this up as I go along," Wendall admitted. "Any suggestions?"

"Sir," one of the more relaxed looking elves raised her hand. "I think we're going to need some of us looking into the list if you want us to find out who needs the most help. You should also know that we're equipped to receive millions of letters telling us what each person wants for Christmas across the world. We were incinerating them on the orders of the old Santa. Someone should probably be going through those and coordinating with manufacturing if we're going to manage all this."

"Good stuff! Off you go then."

The elf nodded and departed with the same eagerness as the other two had.

"Um, I think I might have an idea." Another of the remaining elves chimed up. "I think that maybe there should be one of these teams looking after all the others? I worked in the stables, but I saw what it was like for the factory workers. We all work very, very hard and it might make us work better if there was a team dedicated to making sure everyone was fed and looked after, and their equipment maintained properly."

"That's a great idea!" Wendall clapped his hands with enthusiasm. "I'd rather not start remodelling until next year. So it will be nice to know that there's someone looking out for the workers."

"There's also a lot of stock in the warehouses already." The elf sitting next to the new chief of Elven resources suggested. "I think we should at least go through it all and see what can be used. I think there'll be a lot of things we've made that could already be on the wanted lists."

"Supply and inventory. I'd like to go over all that and see what sort of things we have." Wendall rubbed his chin and then nodded to the two elves who had just decided their jobs. "Off you go then."

They hopped on the spot and bolted for the door together, disappearing one after the other. Wendall could already hear the factory lines starting up again, and marvelled at the speed the elves were capable of moving at.

The last of the elves that Elina had assembled was pondering with his eyes settled on the bells of his shoes. After a short while, he looked up and took a deep breath.

"Sir, I know that you want to focus on helping the poor and the hungry and I am all for that. I just don't think we should forget about the people who've been very good this year. I think everyone struggles all year long. There are lots of people out there who've been very charitable, kind and worked hard to help others. We shouldn't forget about them."

"No, you're right." Wendall nodded in agreement. "Take care of it then. Go find the people who haven't just not been bad all year. Find those who have really made other people's lives better and make sure they get a visit on Christmas Eve."

"Very good, sir!" The last unfamiliar elf nodded vigorously in the same way as the others before darting out to the door.

"Elina," Wendall turned to the fair, golden haired elf beside him. "I think I've thought of something for you to do."

"Oh?" she raised a brow and looked down at his crotch.

"Not that! Crikey, you've got a one-track mind."

Elina blinked and shook her head. "I'm very sorry sir, I think it's become something of a habit."

"That's alright. I want you to take your team and go out into the world. Don't be photographed or recorded, but do whatever you can to get people feeling the Christmas spirit. I want everyone feeling the magic in the air again. Help people out where you can, encourage them to be charitable. Hell, you can full on Scrooge someone if you think it will help."

"I see, sir. So..." she hesitated. "So I won't be here for the holidays then?"

"Nope. Like I said, I want you out there in the world. Make people feel the Christmas spirit. You and your team are welcome to come back to rest if they need to, but I'd like you out in the world until Christmas day. By then I hope we'll all have done enough. Is that alright?"

She was quiet again for a moment, and her eyes grew slightly distant. She seemed saddened for a moment, before smiling to herself at the thought of what he'd asked her to do.

"I've always wanted to visit Paris." She nodded.

"Well on you go then."

Elina stood and walked to the door before vanishing like the rest to leave him alone again with Callie. Callie watched Elina take her leave and then walked over to take a seat again in Wendall's lap.

"What do I do?" she asked, lifting her arms to wrap them around his shoulders.

"Your job is to take care of Santa and point out when he's being a doofus." He settled his arms around her trim waist and planted a little kiss on the tip of her pointed nose.

"Phew, saving the biggest job for last, huh?" She giggled.

"Too right."

"I'll be happy to inform Santa whenever his doofusness is showing." She nodded solemnly. "Thankfully, what he just did was very un-doofus-like. In fact, I think I fell in love with him just a little bit."

Wendall felt his throat tighten when he heard that coming from her, then he simply smiled and kissed her since there wasn't much else to be said.

* * * * *

Unfortunately for Wendall and Callie's mutual libidos, there might not have been much more to say but there was certainly plenty more to do. It started when their smooching session was interrupted a mere five minutes later by a panicked elf who declared that an Abrams Tank had been produced in factory 4. If that wasn't alarming enough, it seemed that a very tired elf had accidentally cued it for production on a belt far too high up that had been designed for making small arms. As a result, the great, hulking machine had snapped through the conveyor belt and had gone smashing down through the entire factory. Thanks to Wendall's instructions for everyone to get some rest no one had been injured. Unfortunately, it did leave factory 4 out of commission for the time being.

Wendall and Callie jumped to work and started helping the recovery team clean the place up. It turned out that factory 4 was used solely for weapons production, and everyone had to be very careful in sifting through the rubble for fear of accidentally detonating something detonatable. Wendall helped as much as he could, but he felt rather slow compared to the elves who were turning a job that should have taken months to finish into a few days' work.

That night, he went to bed so exhausted that he utterly forgot about almost everything his past life had to trouble him with. After taking one look at Santa's room in the grotto, he'd decided to take Callie up on her offer of sleeping in her room. It was a much more comfortable looking place, with a little iron fireplace and a large comfy chair settled beside a book case. He eased out of his clothes down to his vest and shorts before slipping into bed next to her and fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.

When he awoke the next morning, he felt astonishingly good. That actually worried him at first. In 41 years he'd never felt good when he woke up. He needed a shower and at least one pot of coffee before feeling remotely human. With a curious grunt, he sat up and scratched his head without opening his eyes. When he felt the light wisps of silky hair atop his previously bald scalp he jumped and his eyes popped open.

"Mornin', Santa. Looking more the part today!" Callie cheerfully said as she walked into the room carrying two large mugs of fresh coffee.

She was already up and dressed in the same outfit that had adorned her slender feminine figure the day before. Wendall spent a few minutes eyeing her in surprise before his mind finally accepted the whole thing hadn't been a dream. Taking the offered mug, he sipped the coffee and found it had just the right amount of milk with a shot of rich chocolate to add a sweet note to the enlivening liquid.

"Mmm," he licked his lips after that first sip. "Thank you. I'm feeling oddly chipper this morning."

"That'll be the magic!" Callie nodded and took a swig from her own mug leaving a coffee-chocolate moustache on her upper lip. "It'll find you wherever you go now, but up here you'll be getting a mega-dose of it every day. Come on, I'll show you the bathroom and you can check yourself out in the mirror."

She waved him on after her and he obediently followed along. Upon standing up to his full height he quickly realised he was a few inches taller, and he felt a good deal stronger with it. Following Callie, he soon found himself walking into a large classical roman themed bathroom decked with marble across the floors and walls. Four marble pillars emerged from floor to ceiling to surround an enormous circular bathtub with visible water jets set in the centre of the room. It seemed big enough to fit at least twenty people. A large set of glass panels blocked off the showers.

"Is there anything in this place besides your room and the office that isn't garishly over the top?" Wendall asked.

"There's a utility closet downstairs that's pretty mild. It only has the one marble pillar." She looked over her shoulder at him and smirked.

"I hope I get to redecorate soon or I'm just going to have the guys make me a tent and pitch it up outside. I can't- Ho, ho, ho-ly shit!" Wendall jumped back as he caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror that covered a good portion of the side wall.

He'd certainly grown a lot overnight. In fact, he looked like he might have been able to bench press a double-decker bus. Not only had he put on a few inches in height, but it seemed like his shoulders had expanded a more or less equal amount. The vest he'd worn over a flabby tummy the night before now stretched against his hard pectoral muscles which were clearly defined beneath the material. His bare arms were large enough to haul tree-trunks out of the ground, and lined with plenty of newly-formed muscle. His belly hadn't shrunk during the night and still matched the impressive girth of his new chest, but it seemed to have hardened considerably. His hands clapped his gut and felt no give, only thickly-layered muscle.

It was a shame he hadn't been in factory 4 yesterday with his current figure. He might have been able to just catch that damn tank mid-fall.

Along with the new mountainous physique came some other changes to his features. A thick white beard had already grown at least an inch along his jaw-line to meet with his newly whitened moustache. The snowy strands lifted up to his head, and had started to grow around the previously bald peak. His blue eyes, which had always been rather striking, were now practically glowing with a bright cheery light.

For a brief moment he thought there was some sort of magic in the mirror that cast its user in a ridiculously flattering manner. Then he looked down more closely over himself and saw the truth of the reflection. His hands came up to run through the hair and across his beard.

"Come on, Santa. We've got a lot of work to do today!" Callie's voice called from close beside him.

The pleasant shocks came thick and fast as he turned to look across the floor at several discarded elven garments. A hat, two shoes, a belt, a green smock with golden buttons, and finally some stripy white and red tights.

Then he saw Callie standing in front of one of the large glass panels of the showers, completely naked from her wild red hair all the way down to where she was gracefully standing on her tiptoes as she leaned in to turn the showers on. When she looked back at him over her shoulder, her eyes glittered with pleasure at the way he was looking at her.

"Santa? I think you've saved my buddies at the workshop a job. You're already pitching a pretty huge tent right here without their help." Her eyes lowered to fix on the tent in question, the central pole of which seemed to be in danger of tearing through the canopy of his shorts.

Less than ten seconds later, a pair of men's boxer shorts and a white vest were still sailing through the air whilst Wendall made a beeline toward the naked elf in the shower. With his height increase, she was now a full 12 inches shorter than him and she licked her lips in anticipation of what would happen when the hulking male reached her.

Each saw the other fully nude for the first time, and fully appreciated what they saw. She was small and slim, with perky breasts capped with light pink nipples already hardened in the cool air of the large room. Her body was beautifully toned with a dancer's physique, both strong and graceful with long, shapely legs. Just as he approached, she turned away to bend forward and wiggle her bare ass in his direction. The gorgeously firm, and perfectly rounded globes of her backside were just as delightful as he'd guessed they would be.

She was practically transfixed with the newly formed pillar in the bathroom that seemed to have emerged since he'd clapped eyes on her. The fleshy pole stood ram-rod straight and swayed with his approaching strides. A jolly crimson crown gleamed with a hint of his excitement, and she immediately found herself longing for its touch, taste, and of how it would feel deep inside her.




Christmas Cracker



Turning back to face him just as he caught her in his arms, they both stepped back into the heated jets of water coming from the several shower nozzles above them. Her wild hair was quickly matted down against her head, covering her eyes and making her laugh with delight before she wiped it clear with her fingers. It wasn't a moment too soon, as Wendall's strong arms swept her up to push her back against the wall. The cool marble pressed to her bare shoulders and rump, and her legs lifted to wrap about his thick belly.

Their mouths came together with the taste of hungry lips flavoured with the raw desire each felt for the other. It didn't take long before their tongues were beginning a dance of their own as they indulged in the sensation of their naked bodies finally pulled tightly together. Between her legs, she felt his large Christmas log pulsing with excitement. As he pressed her to the wall, the length slid up between her legs against the marble and between the tight cheeks of her ass.

They necked like newlyweds beneath the hot flow of water, and savoured each touch. Her hands caressed up along his powerful biceps, feeling the waves of newly formed muscle hardening as he pulled her tighter against him. The light scent of fresh cinnamon amidst the vaporous air was savoured by the large male, and it wasn't long before he caught the sweet scent of her pussy rising up between them.

His hand stroked its way up along her back, using the water to slide up between her and the wall. Finding the wet tresses of her hair, he wrapped his fingers in amongst them and gently pulled. Their kiss broke, and she stubbornly extended her tongue to lick across his lips openly inviting more of it. The lewd sensation drove him half mad with passion, but his resolve firmed up almost as much as his erection and finally the kiss ended. They remained clinging tightly to each other under the water spray, and as he caught his breath he saw a naughty and indulgent smile form on her pretty features.

"I really like it when you're rough with me, Santa. Is it Santa now? Or should I still call you Wendall? Would Santa or Wendall, whoever's at home right now, please pull my hair a little harder and stick that big cock in my tight pussy?" She licked the taste of him from her own lips before nibbling on the lower one.

"After that you can call me whatever the hell you feel like." He was still catching his breath.

"Ok then, Pubert Wibblebottom it is." She nodded along with him and then smiled at the laugh she brought from deep within his chest. "Care to fuck your elf, Pubert?"

"Not here. Not now." He shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Because I like you."

Her brow furrowed at that. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I like you, Callie. I like you a lot. You crashed into my life and made me laugh when I thought I'd never laugh again. Feel this." He released his grip in her hair and caught her wrist to bring her hand to settle over his chest. There, she felt the thunder of his heart coming strong and fast beneath her touch. Given her history with overenthusiastic hearts and Santa's she yelped in fear.

"Yikes! Oh, man. You're not going to die on me, are you?" she asked, lifting both her hands and cradling his bearded cheeks between them.

"No, why ever would you say that? I was trying to show you how fast my heart beats when I'm with you."

"Well then tell it to slow the fuck down! I'm not dropping another one in less than a month!" She looked accusingly at his chest.

"Another what? Another me? Oh, you mean the other Santa?"

"Yes, the other Santa!" She started to wiggle in his arms and he immediately set her feet back down on the floor so she could step away from him. Lifting both her arms to wrap around herself, she seemed oddly troubled given the circumstances. "He died when he was with me. That's why I was the one that had to come get you."

"Oh." Wendall nodded, his cock wilting slightly at the thought she'd just presented him with. "Were you two...?"

"Yeah." She nodded, looking back to him somewhat self-consciously. "Well, I wasn't involved all that much. I bent over the table for him and slipped down my tights. Then after he got started I kinda zoned out for a bit and started thinking about how I was going to decorate my tree this year. Like I said, he wasn't exactly talented when it came to fucking. He was just... industrious. Then just as he started grunting up a storm, he made this noise that sounded a little like he was about to take a crap before he fell back clutching his chest. I think he was dead when he hit the floor. Scared the living fairy-lights out of me!"

"I imagine it would!" Concerned, Wendall stepped forward and put his hands upon her bare shoulders before gently pulling her to his chest in a comforting hug. It was a full half-second before he felt her arms lift up and settle around him.

"Thanks, Wendall."

"Glad we got over Pubert quickly."

He heard a somewhat stifled laugh before he felt her teeth lightly bite his nipple.

"Ow! Hey!" He rubbed the reddened area a few times whilst she lifted her head to grin up at him devilishly. "So, I can die then?"

"Hell yeah!" Her expression shifted and she nodded with concern. "You're a heck of a lot harder to kill, and you could manage to live forever. You can use magic to get past a lot of things that would have most people pushing up daisies. Still, if you're dumb enough to drink a river of liquor and eat nothing but pastries then sooner or later your arteries will just surrender like anyone else's would."

"Good tip." He nodded. "Make sure I get a salad once in a while, and plenty of exercise."

She sighed mournfully. "I've been working on getting you exercising but it sure ain't easy. My incentives aren't working as well as I hoped."

"Your incentives are working pretty fucking spectacularly. Trust me."

That brought a bright smile back to her features.

"Ok then," he continued. "Do you know what can make someone's heart beat faster that doesn't involve an imminent coronary?"

"Chocolate?"

"No." He blinked. "Well, maybe if you really like chocolate."

She nodded in the affirmative. "But there's no chocolate here right now, despite my suggestion to have the melted stuff pumped up through the shower heads."

"That sounds like it would result in a hell of a lot of serious chocolate scaldings."

"I don't care! Fondue me, baby." She winked up at him and got the hearty laugh that she loved to hear.

"I'll consider it." He licked his lips at the idea of a chocolate covered elf and the potential that had. "But," He lifted her hand back to plant a loving kiss on her fingertips before settling her touch on his broad chest again. "My heart is beating faster because I really like you. When I woke up this morning, I thought that yesterday had been a dream. I was scared to open my eyes, and I thought about your face as hard as I possibly could because I didn't want to let you go. Then there you were again. My very own little Christmas miracle."

He leaned in and she eagerly lifted herself to her tiptoes to kiss him, her fingers slipping through his white hair and a small moan rising through her throat. The kiss came and went in a perfect wave of open affection.

"Watch who you're calling little there, longshanks." Her eyes remained closed, though she smiled dreamily up at him whilst savouring the tingle that remained on her lips.

"Alright then, my very own vertically challenged Christmas miracle. My point is that when I finally do have you, and I fully intend to, I'd rather it not be like this. Not in this place that has so much of the one that came before me left in it. I'd like it to be ours, and ours alone. To put it another way, although I desperately do want to fuck you right here and right now, I'd rather make love to you first."

Her eyes opened, and glistened with her delight at hearing that desire spoken so honestly.

"I guess I'm ok with that." She nodded, unable to keep the smile from the corners of her mouth. "Blowjobs are still ok though, right?"

He pretended to think about that for a moment, stroking his wet beard as he did so before giving a quick nod. "Yes, I'd say blowjobs are encouraged."

"Brilliant!" The smile turned into a bright grin. "In that case, I'll be right back. There's someone hanging around between your legs that I've gotta introduce to my tonsils."

Wendall nodded with seemingly infinite understanding. "I see, well take your time then. After that I think we can both go find breakfast, I already know what I'm having." He licked his lips in a manner that made it explicitly clear.

"Pretty sure it'll come with extra sauce this morning," She said whilst dropping down to her knees and using both hands to fondly caress the engorged cock rising up to greet her.

"See that it does," he ordered. Then he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her lips wrapping around his bulbous helmet as the water continued to cascade down over them both.

* * * * *

There wasn't really all that much time for Wendall and Callie to be alone over the next few days. At least not to the degree where they could devote a proper amount of attention to each other without being interrupted by elves needing instructions or assistance. Callie spent most of her time working over the list and the request letters alongside the captain Wendall had assigned the job to. She effectively became his second in command when he wasn't available at the grotto, and handled the job with remarkable efficiency. So good was her skill in those matters that he was freed up to go out into the workshops and warehouses to oversee production.

It took the elves a while to get used to the new routine, and they occasionally needed to be reminded that they could rest when they liked. Their new boss was always graciously received, and every time Wendall walked out onto the workshop floors the elves would immediately redouble their efforts. Some had to be dragged away from their posts by Elven Resources to get some rest. After a few days it became clear that resting actually allowed them to work much faster than they had been doing. Sleep restored their own natural magic, and gave them a supernatural swiftness and strength that drastically increased overall production.

With the elves taking care of business, Wendall initially spent most of his time getting to know the vast underground world he'd inherited.

At least he looked more the part now. His old suit no longer seemed to fit his new bulkier frame so he'd adorned himself with a set of green silken pyjamas, some fluffy brown slippers and a deep red dressing gown lined with white fur. When he asked the elf who presented him with these gifts where the fur came from, she told him it was from a polar bear. Aghast, Wendall had pushed the dressing gown aside and demanded that they use fake fur instead. The confused elf informed him that although he was the boss, not using the polar bear fur would deeply hurt the feelings the bear who'd grown it specially to be sheared for the garment. Apparently his name was Snowy and he worked in the Transport and Delivery department.

After hearing about that, Wendall had worn the dressing gown and decided not to ask so many questions in future.

Not that there wasn't plenty for him to do. His mornings were spent checking up on the evening's activities, and addressing any problems that needed to be brought to his attention. That was usually a task he did with Callie through their breakfast before they parted ways with a kiss at the door and he went out into the workshops to hear reports from the captains, and to plot out their next move in getting ready for the big night.

With six days to go, he found himself in the stables having an argument with Donner and Blitzen. They weren't difficult to spot as each of the pair wore a single golden thunderbolt hanging from a piece of thin red cloth. The small jewels each hung on one of their antlers like earrings.

"I'm just saying we could lower our flight path and let the people below catch a little glimpse of us here and there. It doesn't need to be an entirely stealth mission, you know." Wendall had his arms folded across his chest as he looked down over the two reindeer.

"And all we're saying," said Blitzen through gritted teeth, "is that if most of these countries we fly over see an unidentified flying object in their airspace in this day and age we might end up with a couple of F-16s checking out our asses. I've told you, boss. Dasher and Comet are our speed freaks, Cupid and Vixen keep an eye on our magic reserves, Prancer and Dancer are aerial manoeuvres and we're in charge of making sure some asshole doesn't blow us out of the fucking sky. Please let us do our job, sir. Unless you wanna spend this year giving out free venison, courtesy of an air-to-air missile."

"No, that's not..." Wendall paused and took a deep breath to steady his growing temper at the frustrating beasts. Then an idea occurred to him. "What if we did have authority to be there?"

"How do you mean?" Donner gave her antlers an inquisitive tilt.

"Elina! She's been out there with her guys stirring up the spirit of the season for weeks now. We could have her team use some of those giant piles of money the last guy made to stage some shows on Christmas Eve. Let local airports know that they're doing a magic trick and might get a ping on the radar from it. That way everyone gets to see us doing our thing, and we don't get tagged as targets. If we play it right then it could be a big event, and I bet seeing you lot riding across the sky will make a lot of people happy."

"Hmm..." Blitzen looked questioningly to his partner.

"If it's worked right, then we might be able to swing that." Donner nodded.

"Great! I'll put you in touch with Elina tonight. She's coming back up here to give her weekly report." Wendall clapped his large hands together with excitement. "I'll just-"

"Excuse me, sir?" A wavering voice called to him from nearby.

Wendall turned from the reindeer to look over to see an elf he recognised, though he couldn't immediately recall where he'd seen him before. Lifting a finger to ask for one moment, he looked back to his reindeer.

"Let's put this into motion then if we can. I'd like a solid outline of a plan in place by the end of the day tomorrow."

"Yes, sir!" Both reindeer chimed, clipping their hooves together in a respectful salute.

Encouraged by their enthusiasm, Wendall nodded and turned back to the elf only to see that he'd apparently vanished. Where had he seen the guy before? Just as he was racking his brains trying to remember, he caught sight of a familiar pointed hat disappearing around the corner to the stable entrance.

"Hey! Wait up!"

Wendall ran across the enormous domed room. By now he could really cover ground for a guy that seemingly weighed more than a small oak tree. Apparently the natural build of Santa Claus wasn't the tubby fellow seen on many Christmas cards but rather more along the lines of, as his grandmother would have said: a brick shit house.

He quickly found himself at the entrance to the stables and stopped another passing elf who was hauling a stack of fresh straw inside.

"Hey, have you seen a little guy come past here recently?" Wendall asked.

"Are you serious, sir?" the elf looked up from his stack of straw to loft a brow in Santa's direction.

"Oh, right. Guess that covers about half the population down here, huh?" he stroked his thick, white beard. "He was blonde. I remember him from somewhere. Seemed like he wanted to ask me something important."

"Oh yeah, that was Murty. He was hanging around out here a while trying to pluck up the courage to go in and see you."

"Murty? Name doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, I'm still trying to get to know everyone. Is he ok?"

"Buggered if I know." The elf shrugged his shoulders before remembering who he was talking to and quickly adding: "Sir."

"Right. I'll go find him then. Thanks."

"Not a problem, sir. Keep up the good work. Red suits you." He continued carrying the straw on into the stables, and Wendall went on to pursue Murty.

It wasn't difficult to find him by asking around. Even though there were thousands of elves, most of them had existed together for well over a thousand years and everyone seemed to know everyone else. Wendall eventually discovered Murty down amongst the early arrivals of one of Elina's missions. He was unpacking the saddle of a large polar bear who was happily in the process of eating a great deal of fish from a bucket provided by another elf.

Wendall hadn't really had much of a chance to get down to Travel and Delivery despite visiting it when Callie had given him his first guided tour. It was mostly filled with the elves under Elina's command prepping for or returning from excursions to spread Christmas spirit. He'd noticed that she'd taken many of the elves from the previous Santa's idea of a marketing team. The stunningly attractive ones, in other words.

It was then that he remembered where he'd seen Murty before. He'd been with Elina's troupe, leaving the grotto shortly after Wendall had removed the previous Santa's harem.

Wendall's presence in the department was quickly noted. The place suddenly got very quiet and the elves present hopped to attention.

"It's alright everyone!" He called out with a booming voice that seemed to get jollier by the day. "I'm just after Murty, here."

The elves seemed to accept that and got back to busying themselves and their polar bears for work. It had occurred to Wendall that they might be flying polar bears, but he hadn't yet been able to properly ask.

Murty was standing beside his bear, with his knees almost knocking together as he saw the big man step forward toward him.

"Are you alright?" Wendall asked.

"Y-yes, sir!" the elf's voice sounded unnaturally high pitched.

"Is something the matter? You seem quite a bit on edge. Don't fear. I'm not going to bite your head off."

"I just wanted to ask you something, sir."

"Alright then." Wendall nodded expectantly, but nothing happened as Murty fell quiet. "Well... Spit it out!"

"Sorry, sir! Would it... I wonder if it'd be ok to speak to you in private?"

"Of course!" Wendall nodded with a compassionate smile. "Walk with me."

Murty finished relieving the polar bear of his saddle quickly before rushing over to Wendall's side and they both headed on back upstairs. They found some relative privacy in a small empty office in an upper administration section. It suited their purposes far better than a long walk back to the grotto.

"Now then," Wendall settled in behind the small desk, looking like a giant in the furniture built so obviously for an elf. "What's bothering you, Murty?"

The elf took a seat in the chair on the other side of the desk and twiddled his thumbs for a few moments before finally finding the right words.

"Sir, I was one of the elves who used to work inside the grotto," he explained.

An understanding nod greeted the explanation.

"Yes, I remembered your face. Don't worry, that's in the past now. Awful bloody business, wasn't it?"

The question looked like it strained something inside Murty's chest, and he winced slightly.

"It wasn't exactly how we'd have preferred it, sir." The elf took a deep breath then and closed his eyes before laying it out on the table. "But I'm afraid the cat's out of the bag now."

"Pardon?" Wendall tilted his head slightly, trying to understand.

"Sex, sir. We were mostly ignorant about it before the last big man came along. We don't exactly need it to propagate the species or nothin', see? Our efforts all went into our work, except for those who have been Mrs. Claus, and of course they don't last long after their husband's gone."

"I see, I suppose it must... Wait, what? Why doesn't Mrs. Claus last long after her husband's gone?"




Christmas Cracker



"Eh?" Murty clearly hadn't been expecting that question, but he dutifully answered with a suitable degree of care after a moment's consideration. "It's the magic, sir. Haven't they told you? Mrs. Claus becomes a high elf."

"Yes, they told me that much. Elina said she wanted the position again. She wanted the power that came with it. I guessed a high elf is like a super-elf or something?"

"Sort of, sir. It's just that you can't really go backwards after you've ascended. Our souls expand. Our magic grows. That's what being a high elf allows, but once Santa dies then that's it. With his blessing gone it's back to being a regular old elf, and their body just can't handle it anymore. The power can't be managed. The soul can't be held. Eventually Elina will go into the long sleep, and then she'll be gone. You didn't know?"

"No. I didn't." Wendall sat there in stunned silence, staring at the varnished surface of the desk. Elina was a little bit snooty, sure. That didn't mean she deserved to die for it. She'd been perfectly loyal to him, and carried out any task he asked of her with a flawless degree of proficiency.

"Oh. I'm sorry sir, maybe this isn't such a good time then?"

"No, no. It's alright, Murty. If there's a problem you're having then I'd like to hear about it." He smiled comfortingly, although the expression was now tinged with a note of sadness.

"Are you sure?"

"For the love of tinsel, Murty. Just ho, ho, ho, have out with it already!"

"Right!" The elf jumped as if sitting to attention. "Sir, it's about the sex elves, sir."

"The sex elves? Fucking hell, now there's something I hope never makes it into an edited version of 'twas the night before Christmas. Right. Yes. I know of the sex elves. What's the problem? Are they all ok?"

"Yes, sir! Well, in a manner of speaking. It's just that we..." he paused to take a deep breath again before finally blurting it out. "We really miss the sex."

Wendall blinked several times before shaking his head and then clearing his throat. "I beg your pardon?"

"The sex, sir. The fucking. The licking. The sucking. The dancing. The upside down spanking. The-"

"Yes! Yes, ok I understand. Please don't elaborate any further." Wendall silenced him by raising a hand. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to start that up again. I'd just feel horrendously awkward about the whole thing, and not wishing to sound cruel but I just find it kind of... tacky."

"Oh, yes! We largely agree, sir!" He nodded his head with vigour. "It was tacky bordering on completely disgusting. Not at all in the Christmas spirit! We wouldn't want to go back to that, sir. It's just that we've been ordered to go back to work as it was before and that means no sex at all. We didn't really know what we were missing back then, you see. Now? Well, not to be crass but I've had to tape my trouser-snake to my leg, and I've been walking around with a limp for the past few days if you catch my drift, sir."

"Oh. I see. I'm sorry. I didn't really know about that. Murty, elves can't have children can they?"

"No sir, not that I know of. Definitely not in that way. What's between our legs is strictly for decoration and recreational purposes."

"Right then, well as far as I'm concerned as long as you can find a consenting partner then feel free to do as you like in that department. I mean, we do have work to do here so keep it out of the workshops. What you do in your own time is your business. Same goes for the rest of the elves as well."

"Really?" Murty's ears wiggled with excitement, and no small degree of relief.

"Sure, as long as your work doesn't suffer then go nuts."

"Yes, sir! Understood, sir! Oh, thank you, sir!" He popped up to his feet and grabbed Wendall's hand before shaking it vigorously with a big grin on his face before he rushed off out the door, presumably to correct his limp.

The large man with the white beard left inside the room slowly shook his head and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. Every muscle in his body felt a good deal more relaxed as soon as the horny elf had departed the room.

"This job is a lot weirder than the movies made it out to be."

* * * * *

Letting elven libidos run rampant turned out to be something of a problem in the long run. Many who had never had sex before discovered the sensation so agreeable that they immediately started making up for lost time. Loudly. They never shirked their other duties. None were late for work, and the quality of their products never faltered in the slightest. That didn't mean they didn't push it!

He'd pulled a group of five of them out of a freshly washed stable after they'd decided to spend their break time on a mid-morning mini-orgy. Two had been caught trying anal in a captain's office. Admittedly this was after work hours, but they'd thrown his papers quite out of order. He walked past two very slutty-looking female elven nurses making their way toward another captain's bedroom. Though by far the worst transgressor was the elf who accidentally produced an entire line of multicoloured dildos when she should have been making a series of cutting-edge cell phones. It was an absent-minded mistake that brought a whole new meaning to the phrase "just set it to vibrate."

Wendall set them straight, and ensured there were certain rules about going about the act so those little incidents were kept to a minimum. He couldn't exactly punish the offenders though, not without calling himself a staggering hypocrite. Every morning he was awoken either by the scent of freshly made coffee wafting into his room, or by a pair of elven lips wrapped around his cock making the journey from root to tip. Those lips belonged to Callie, of course. She'd become something of a professional sword-swallower after his physical transformation had added length and a little girth to what had already been quite an impressive gift from God.

Not that it had remotely deterred her from practicing that sword-swallowing routine whenever she could get her mouth on him for more than five minutes. They'd started sleeping together, and getting to know each other's naked bodies in as much detail as they could manage. Their nights were spent falling asleep after a prolonged 69 in which he enjoyed the flavour of her sweet, juicy pussy just as she savoured the taste of his cock.

Neither had mentioned anything more to the other about when they'd take the next step. It was rather obvious to the both of them. Christmas day would see all their work come to fruition, and they'd get some time off to be together at last. The excitement built, and as the last days ticked down to Christmas Eve the elves even seemed to forget about sex for a while to concentrate on their work.

Wendall himself had changed. It wasn't just his physical self that had shifted in those nights he spent there under the northern snows. He felt different. The outbursts of ho, ho, ho became less of a speech defect and more a natural part of his way of speaking. In growing comfortable in that new body, he felt the power of his new station flowing into him. He sensed its timelessness, and felt the lightning in his veins.

The magic could be willed into almost anything he desired. He knew he could call a snowstorm in a desert if the mood struck him. Yet it wasn't simply power that came with the change, but knowledge. It didn't feel much like the knowledge gained from reading a book. It was more instinctive. Like breathing or sensing your own heartbeat. He soon just knew the name of every human being the world over, and he saw the goodness and the darkness in their hearts. He felt the magic that ran through his new home was his own, and he could manipulate it as he liked. It had been that magic which allowed the reindeer to fly, and it would propel them through the air at the height of his power.

It also became apparent that although his will had built the place, Santa hadn't created the elves. Their magic was of a slightly different sort to his, though he did hold a great deal of influence over them. They had been brought here from somewhere else. He'd tried to concentrate on their home, but the place didn't just simply cease to exist one day. Rather, it was as if it had never existed at all. Yet he remembered glimpses of a world of sunlight, music, lush green fields and deep, untamed forests. There was a darkness that had come over it, as if everything was going to sleep, including time itself. Santa had brought some of them from their fading home and into his service, for he cared for them deeply. Except he wasn't called Santa then. He went by another name.

There wasn't much more to be found in those memories, and none of the elves seemed to remember their old home. It certainly didn't help that whenever he tried to recall their past it felt like he was suddenly half blinded. Seeing those memories was difficult enough without losing all depth perception. So he'd simply let it be, and concentrated on making his new friends comfortable and content in their current home instead. Though he had to control himself in order to avoid focusing that task on one red-haired elf in particular.

* * * * *

The morning of the 24th arrived with breakfast in bed being carried into his room by Elina. It came as a slight surprise, given his anticipation for the day. He instantly wanted Callie there with him, for he always looked forward to seeing her in the morning. Apparently his disappointment showed on his features when Elina settled the breakfast tray across his bed. Everything smelled remarkably delicious as usual.

"Callie is getting ready to oversee the loading operation," Elina gently explained. If his obvious hint of disappointment bothered her it didn't show. She seemed oddly serene for someone who whose immortality would be coming to an end within a month. "I think she plans to check the name on every gift herself before they go inside the sack. She asked me if I could take over her duties this morning, and bring you breakfast. The last of my elves came home last night. We're all ready to assist in the day's work."

"Thank you, Elina. You've done a wonderful job with the preparations. I've seen the newspapers. There's something in the air out there already, and it'll have built up by tonight. Without the belief that you've nurtured in the people out there, we wouldn't have had the power in here to do what needed to be done. If tonight goes well, I think it'll be largely down to you."

"Thank you, Wendall." She was one of the few who referred to him by his name rather than "sir" or "boss". His words had obviously touched her in rather unexpected depths, and she lifted a hand to steady the sudden clench inside her chest. "That means a great deal to me."

"Well it's not exactly small potatoes to me either, you know. And today I think it's best if you call me Santa Claus if that's agreeable." He smiled merrily at her.

"It's very agreeable, Santa." A genuine smile formed upon the elf's lips that brought a glow to her beautiful blue eyes. "It has been an honour to have served you this year. I'd forgotten for a while what it was to be a part of this place when it was given over to its proper nature. It's... rather wonderful."

"I'm going to make sure it will be for many years to come."

"Yes, of course." She gave a small nod of agreement, and then stepped back to the door.

"Elina?"

"Yes, Santa?"

"Why didn't you tell me you'd die if I didn't pick you out to be Mrs. Claus?"

She seemed slightly troubled by that, though her tone remained pleasant enough. "Does it matter?"

"I'm afraid it does. Yes." He nodded.

"I suppose I thought you'd find out eventually, and in the mean time I hoped that there might be something between us. Something like what you've found with Callie. The last Santa Claus never tried to hurt me. He never tried to hurt any of us. It was just his nature that made him the creature he was. He wasn't terrible all the time, you know. But he never really loved me. Sometimes he tried to made me laugh, and I believe he genuinely cared for me in some way, but I don't think love was something he was really capable of. It's been something I've always wished for. I went about trying to get yours all the wrong way. I see that now. I thought that perhaps we'd have more time together and I could put up a better fight, but by the time I returned from your errand a fool could see that you were Callie's and she was yours. I think I'd rather not live through more centuries without the love of my husband."

"I see." He nodded and set his breakfast tray to one side. "Do you know why Callie really asked you to serve me breakfast this morning?"

Elina's eyes turned somewhat downcast at that question. "I assumed she wanted to rub my nose in it."

"You should think more of her. Will you come stand over here?"

"Certainly," she quickly did as she was bid and her expression filled with fresh curiosity. "There was some other reason then? I doubt it was my flair for making pancakes."

"No. We were talking about you last night, you see. I asked something of her that was slightly unconventional for a man to ask a woman he intends to spend the rest of his life with."

"Oh, so you have chosen her then? Of course you have." Elina shook her head. "I'm sorry. I knew it, but I didn't quite think I'd be affected by hearing it said aloud. Apparently I was wrong. What was it that you asked of her?"

"I asked if I might kiss another woman. Given a condition, she accepted." He chuckled and then pointed up at the high arched ceiling above their heads. There, a single branch of mistletoe hung above their heads.

Elina let out a peal of shocked laughter at the sight of the little branch that surprised them both. Then she looked back down upon him, her smile remained dancing upon her lips and tears glistening in her eyes.

"Who would I be to deny Santa Claus such a request?" she said, and then leaned in to give him a hug.

She thought it was going to be a hug to say goodbye between them. Then she moved her head and touched her lips to his, enjoying the tickle of his silky beard. To her immediate surprise, the kiss wasn't exactly a chaste peck between friends. She felt it sizzle all the way down to her toes.

That was just the opening act, as Santa pulled her upon him to sit on the bed beside his lap and their kiss deepened into something far more powerful. She felt heat rise to her cheeks, as something strangely familiar began happening to her. It felt like an infusion of thunder in her blood, and it rocked her so deeply that she broke the kiss to fall back onto the bed.

Her pale skin started to glow and shift slightly from its creamy colour and took on an almost golden tint that glowed with near-divinity. Her hair spilled out from beneath her pointed hat, pushing it off her head entirely as the long mane of bright gold strands spilled out around her. The features of her face took on the more mature appearance of a woman in her early thirties as opposed to her early twenties, and carried the regal bearing of some ancient faerie queen. She felt the uniform she was wearing tighten against her skin as her body grew considerably taller adding at least 12 inches to her height and giving her a more curvier and glamorous physique.

Santa watched with his mouth hanging open in awe as Elina changed before his eyes, though he could certainly still recognise her beneath the changes. Her eyes gleamed like sapphires, wide and utterly baffled as she suddenly sat up sending her hair cascading around her shoulders with an almost magical grace.

"What!? How? You didn't give me a wedding band. It's always been the ring that does it!" It was highly amusing seeing the beautiful high-elf so thoroughly disoriented. The sultry tone of her voice was quite derailed by her shock.

"That's probably because you're not Mrs. Claus. That's going to be Callie's job, I think. If it's going to be anyone's. I haven't exactly had a great deal of luck with marriage. Just please don't tell her about it just yet because I haven't mentioned it to her." He settled back in bed and plucked up some toast from the tray she'd brought in before starting to munch away with good cheer.

"Then... how!?" her tone shifted from confused to pleading as she stood up and looked over herself.

"It's true that it practically says in the rulebook that only Mrs. Claus gets to be a high elf." He gave a conceding nod before dipping the toast into the yolk of a boiled egg. "Just don't forget who writes the rulebook around these parts, ok?"

"But... but..."

"There hasn't been any other Santa's who made high elves? I'm not really sure why that was. In the old days it was because they just didn't need any. When Mrs. Claus passed on it was usually because she wanted to join her husband. Love's a funny thing that way. The last Santa probably just didn't have enough juice for it. Ooooh, juice!" He reached out and picked up a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice that the toast rack had been hiding and took a big refreshing glug. "From what I know about the guy, he sabotaged a lot of the power he had with the way he worked. Didn't understand a lot about the magic of this place, and of who he was. I've been rummaging around in here." He tapped his brow. "And with enough belief I can do some pretty damned impressive stuff if I put my mind to it."

"I think I understand. Just... why me? It must have taken a lot of power, mustn't it? I've been so far away. You barely know me."

"Because it's Christmas. Ho, ho, ho!" He chuckled heartily and went back for more toast. "Besides, as I remember saying at the start of this conversation, most of the power I'm getting now is because people have started believing again! They're seeing elves, it's starting to snow, and a good chunk of the planet who believe in me are giving me a hell of an energy boost that's largely thanks to you. So, consider this an early Christmas present and then let's get to work!"

Elina's bottom lip quivered before she leapt across the bed to give her boss a very grateful hug. He lost his piece of toast, and let out a cheerful laugh when she sniffled against his shoulder.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later, my dear lady! Now, after all that you're not going to go about letting the side down today are you?" he playfully asked.

"You bloody well better believe I won't. Do you mind if I go change first though? My tits feel like they're going to explode out of this smock at any moment." She laughed and released him to jump up beside the bed.

"Ha! Go on with you then." He watched as she took her leave to gracefully skip to the door and disappear.

Her head popped back into the room a minute later and she gave him a radiant smile.

"Oh, and your suit is here! It's hung up out here in the office. Everyone's downstairs when you're ready. I'd also take that mistletoe down now if I were you, or enterprising elves might decide to try and take advantage of you!" With a wink that made that last statement more of a promise, Elina swished out of the room again and disappeared.

Santa Claus finished his breakfast, and then went to suit up.

* * * * *

The suit had been tailored to his build and was quite possibly the most comfortable thing he'd ever worn. As he adorned himself with the familiar garments, he felt the magic start to crackle through him like thunder. He laughed when he saw the green underpants with miniature, cartoonish images of his reindeer patterned across the green cotton. After slipping them into place and finding them pleasantly warm and snug, he went about pulling on his socks. They matched the colour scheme of the underpants, but carried images of holly rather than reindeer. A pair of large, red pants were pulled over his strong legs soon thereafter, cuffed at the end of each leg with fresh white fur and soon held aloft with a pair of red suspenders. He pulled a green silk shirt over his muscular chest and buttoned it up, enjoying the sleek sensation of the material on his skin. After tucking in the shirt, he reached down to lift a heavy pair of black boots from beside the fireplace and set one on each foot. Once he was steady on his feet again in the toasty warm boots, he pulled the suspenders over his broad shoulders and turned to where his overcoat hung upon the door frame. It was an enormous, floor length garment made with red velvet and carried larger tufts of soft, white fur along the lining. The inside was lined with a slightly darker shade of green silk than his shirt, and as he settled it across his shoulders it fit perfectly. A thick, black leather belt was wrapped around his waist to keep the overcoat in place, and he clasped the golden belt buckle before reaching for the final piece of the outfit. The red hat settled atop his head to keep the tops of his ears warm with its soft, white, fur brim. It was so long that it fell down across his left shoulder, leaving a fluffy white tuft at the tip to settle over his heart. A couple of holly leaves were placed on the side of the hat, just for added effect.




Christmas Cracker



'Welcome, Rosemary!' says Uncle George as I waltz this way and that. High on tiptoes my heels hardly touch the floor. I think I had my eyes shut as every sensation is magnified. The weight of my breasts, my petticoats flutter outwards displaying first my legs, lacy stocking top, milky thigh then snowy white panties. I feel my face redden. 

Auntie claps with delight, 'You look so pretty dear you deserve to be on the top of our Christmas tree.' She wipes tears from her eyes and blows her nose in her huge lace hankie.

'Like a fairy.' Uncle George adds giving me a jovial smile. 

Mum tuts disapprovingly and smiles at me proudly. 'Ignore him dear you've done yourself proud, Julie's done a grand job.' 

As if on queue I stand in the centre of the room and twirl like a trained ballerina. 

'And ...' she goes on excitedly, 'I can tell you all that our Rosemary isn't just wearing Auntie's gorgeous dress. I got a glimpse of our shy beauty when she was changing and can confirm that she's also wearing the most sumptuous feminine lingerie.' A gasp goes out around the room and the men in particular edge forward on their seats as if waiting for the result of a horse race. I feel my face redden and notice out the corner of my eye my step dads groin begin to swell. 'It's so nice to see and I do believe it would melt any hot bloodied males heart.' 

I shuffle my feet uncomfortably and feel as if I've stumbled into some weird costume drama. 

I giggle girlishly and shake my skirts, playing my part as if hoping for an Oscar. Then without thinking, I lift my skirts, twirl and show everyone my infamous underwear.

There is a sharp intake of breath from every onlooker present. Their shocked gasps echo round the living room walls. There's a staggered pause. Everyone just gapes at me in astonishment.

'Rosemary, did you just... Flash your knickers?' says Julie at last.

I stare back frozen.

What was I thinking? Was it the wine, the liqueur chocolates or the brandy soaked mince pies. They'll think I'm taking the piss. There goes my squeaky-clean image. Polite ladies don't brazenly display their panties. This isn't some a European porno film it's a Family Christmas soirée.

They're still goggling at me. I have to say something. 'Julie has lent me some of her pretty underwear and its gone to my head.' I giggle stupidly, 'I feel so feminine and sexy. They are so luxurious and extravagant I do believe they've released something in me I didn't think I possessed.' My face is prickling all over. 'I'm sorry if I've offended anyone. I won't do it again.'

But to the contra Uncle George is leaning further and further forward, his eyes all screwed up. Squinting at me as though he's trying to make me out.

He must blow my cover, he must I muse. After what seems minutes he speaks.

'I like it,' he pronounces at last, and nods his head in satisfaction. 'Yes, I like a girl with a sparkle. A pretty girl willing to please. You can show me your knickers anytime.'

What? I can do what? My uncle who knows who I really am and that I've a cock - enjoys seeing my bits in silk and lace. I take a breath - then close it again as Mum jabs him in the ribs. It doesn't matter. It's not real. I could flash my knickers at Christmas. If you can't do it now when can you do it? I smile back at Uncle George and involuntarily lick my lips provocatively.

Auntie comes to the rescue. 'How does your new dress feel, does it fit well?

'Very nice, very well, thank you Auntie,' I reply demurely.

'That's good!' Auntie rocks back and forth in her chair. She seems just a little awkward. In fact they all seem awkward. Underneath the supporting comments and happy smiles, there seems just a hint of uncertainty. 'I expect you to visit me in my home from now on. No excuses. I've got to show you off to all the male nurses.'

I smile sweetly and for a brief moment imagine myself (for an inexplicable reason) in an overtly feminine silk-chiffon lace-knit embroidered dress mincing between the elderly resident of Auntie's old peoples home much to the enjoyment of the male nurses. 'Of course,' I find myself saying, 'I'd love to visit you... You can't keep me away from a man in a uniform.' I immediately blush and think my role-play is perhaps going a bit far. I decide to take a back seat - if possible.

After I've let Auntie feel the various materials, count the many petticoats, study the sparkling sequins and admire my legs the initial excitement ebbs and I begin to relax. I really do enjoy wearing the dress. I become accustomed to the strangeness of the bra, panties, stockings, heels and dress and feel remarkably comfortable. I even wonder why Julie doesn't wear a dress more often rather than her normal jeans and T-shirt. I feel normal, happy and at home. It was as if for the first time in my life I could breathe easily. If this is what its like being a girl I was smitten. I'm a pantie and dress convert - I never wanted to wear trousers again. Every little thing I'd dreamt about was true. Why would I ever want to wear course, ugly men's clothes ever again. I walk about the room, toss my hair, flutter my eyelashes and flick my hips sending my skirts spiraling trying to look as though I know what I'm doing. 

Julie had taken the only available seat, as strangely whilst upstairs everyone had spread out and occupied all the seating. I stand momentarily and wonder where to hide. There was no option but to squat in the centre of the room, near the fire, on the rug. My heels made kneeling uncomfortable so I carefully sat on my hip and curled my legs under me to one side as I'd seen models in Julies fashion magazines. As I sat demurely I expertly arranged my skirts around me. They spread out like a huge fan occupying a substantial amount of floor space. It was glorious like a princess. I felt like a bride in her wedding gown in one of those traditional wedding type poses I just needed a poesy of flowers to complete the picture. Sitting as I did, in the centre of the room on the floor level I felt like a little girl. My dress seemingly sparkling in unison with the Christmas tree. 

'Doesn't she look pretty,' Auntie kept saying occasionally wiping away yet another tear. 'She reminds me of when I was a young girl.' Mum agreed and even talked to me as if her daughter and Julie was warm and friendly, chatting as if long lost sisters. Not once did she joke, ridicule me or let on. We played the normal Christmas games that come out every festive year but this Christmas I was different. Instead of my heart sinking when my sister got out her Karaoke CDs I was elated. My rendition of "Britney" and "J Lo" was, if I say so myself, remarkably realistic especially when I performed a sexy dance routine for added realism. The sexy moves, the silky voice all just came so easily, as if I'd done it many times before. I even won charades. Uncle George insisted we played "Twister" which seemed most inappropriate considering our ages. And to make matters worse when ever it was his turn he managed to get his face firmly up my skirt. I'm sure it was deliberate but no one else noticed so I ignored him. 

Later mum, Julie and I all helped in the kitchen preparing tea. I wore a frilly apron so as not to soil my dress and Julie, for the first time teased me until Mum got really angry. She really didn't want Auntie to discover the truth especially as to date everything had gone like oiled clockwork.

After tea I helped tidy up the things and we all played some more games, drank more wine, chatted, laughed and nibbled on a massive tin of chocolates. Eventually we all began to tire and with some relief watched an old James Bond film on the TV together. Uncle George sat beside me and put his hand on my knee. He whispered in my ear so on one could hear. 'So R-o-s-e-m-a-r-y do you enjoy wearing dresses then?'

I look at him and his hand on my knee. 'Of course not,' I lie. This is coming off at the first opportunity. I'm only doing this for Auntie. You know the score I didn't want to offend. She is obviously mentally unstable and her health balances on a knife-edge. I don't want to be the one that sends her health spiraling downwards.' He looked me in the eye and I could see him doubting my every word.

'But, Rosemary your skin is so soft, your legs so smooth and your make-up so well applied you're a natural.' He gives my knee a squeeze and his huge hand slides slowly up my slender thigh. I hardly notice until it's under my skirt. Horrors a frisson of excitement swirls through my body as he pinches my flesh through my silky stockings.

'Julie did it.' I say abruptly.

'It's very good but you have to admit you carry it well ... Perhaps a little too well. And you haven't said if you enjoy being the feminine girl, wearing pretty party dresses.'

'No,' I say again, 'as I said before - it's coming straight off after this charade.'

'Oh yes and you're so good at charades aren't you?' he said. 'But tell me when you take this dress off will you wear another dress, perhaps a bit tarty like a mini dress and fishnet tights or a tight pencil skirt and translucent blouse. We haven't seen your tits yet.' 

Yeah I ponder. In your dreams. I stare at him angrily annoyed that he's ruining the experience. He seems oblivious to my upset. 

'Or do you fancy a bit of leather. A tight black mini skirt that barely covers your sexy arse! If you ask me I bet you're a right sexpot. A right sexy nymph who cant wait to drop her knickers. A slut, a tart, a whore'

'No,' I cry struggling to get out the sofa without displaying too much thigh, 'I'm not you're wrong.' Auntie looks across upset and gesture for me to sit beside her. I cross the room and perch on the arm of her chair. Wrong - Uncle George stares at my legs. His eyes on stalks he cant divert his gaze and I feel them burning into me as if able to see my panties. I put my hands in my lap and try to avoid the netting of my skirts sticking upwards.

'Has George been offending you,' Auntie whispers, 'He can be so rude. I'm sure he's a bit perverted. You're not a pervert are you?'

'Excuse me?' I say.

Auntie laughs. 'Don't take a blind bit of notice of what George says. He knows nothing. I've been talking to your Mum and she agrees that you look beautiful. Plus Auntie knows... I can tell your loving every minute.'

What she said hit me like an express train. I suddenly feel weak, sad and pitiful. I look at her bemused. 'Mum?' I say. 'You said mum. If I'm Rosemary she's not my mum.' Auntie laughs really quietly and leans to whisper in my ear. 'And I'm the fairy godmother.' 

I look confused. 'What do you mean?' I say. 

Auntie smiles proudly. 'I've done you a favour. I've given you the best present ever. I'm not going doolally. I'm not mentally unstable. I'm the sharpest knife in the box. I'm well aware who you are and what you want. I know more about you than you know yourself.

'What!' I cry.

'Shhh!' she puts her fingers to her lips, 'keep your noise down. Let this be our secret.' 

'You mean you know who I am yet you bought me this ultra feminine dress?'

'Why yes...' She says proudly. 'If I was to wait for you to take the first step I'd be dead and buried. Old age has told me to act now and think later. I want you to be happy and you are happy in that dress with Julie's shoes and underwear, aren't you?'

'I, I, I guess,' I say cautiously.

Auntie wipes her nose 'I'm sorry if the dress isn't exactly to your taste but I hope you'll go shopping for something else.'

'Yeah,' I say and that's my other problem, No job. I've no money. I'm totally dependant on Mum. I couldn't afford to shop even if I wanted to. This is the first new thing I've worn for months.

Auntie smiles reassuringly. 'Why what's the problem?'

'I can't seem to find my vacation.' I say.

Auntie smiles and I see her false teeth wobble. 'Oh dearie I've got you another surprise. You know Mums friends, Dave and Trish who own the ladies fashion store in the high street.

'Yes' I say nervous as to what she may say next.

'I've got you an interview.' she giggles. I stare at Dave and Trish and they both smirk knowingly.

'But, but, but,' I stammer. 'I can't work in a ladies boutique.'

'Not as a man but you can as Rosemary?'

My mouth gapes open as if catching flies.

'You can thank me later dearie. You need a job and I thought sales was your thing. You look amazing in a dress and your body will sell anything even if you may be the wrong sex'

I stare open mouthed and see Dave and Trish nodding encouragingly.

'And if you disagree with me have a look in the mirror. You look amazing but I think you need some current fashion advice. I'm an old lady and my taste may not be the current vogue.' She laughs. 

'I don't know what to say,' I mumble 

'Say yes,' she says. I spoke to Dave and Trish while you where in the Kitchen and they've been looking for a pretty sales assistant like you for months. You'll have to dress every day as a beautiful girl and you'll need a complete new wardrobe.'

Her very words made my cock stiffen again and I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom. Julie's hand cream was a welcome relief. This time it was hardly needed, as I was so excited as I contemplated my new life as Rosemary.

Back downstairs Trish was talking to Auntie. She beckons me over. 'I've just been over the arrangements with your new employer. The interview is a mere formality. They just want to see how you look another day. Treat it like a new start.'

I'm dumfounded. 

Trish puts an arm round me and places a kiss gently on my cheek.

'You're gorgeous. Come to the shop on the 3rd January. We start our sale on the 4th we can choose you some more current outfits and when the new stock comes in you'll get fifty percent discount. I've got just the things for you. I've a lovely cotton skirt and blouse that's just you. Or a personal favorite is last seasons white tulle skirts with a pretty silk chiffon top. And don't worry about shoes we do those as well.'

My eyes water and I want to cry. I'm so happy. This is turning out to be an amazing Christmas. 

Later I sit next to Julie. 'You knew about this,' I ask.

She grins as if broken a window with a ball. She nods.

'Pleased?' she says at last

'I don't know,' I say.

Julie nods. 'I think your dead lucky "Debut" is one of the most fashionable stores outside London.'

As we talk Mum came up to us.

'I hope you don't mind the trick. Auntie's a wise old owl. I had my doubts but I would never guess.'

'And you don't mind?' I mutter tears forming in my eyes.

'No, not at all. Your happiness is what's important to me. Julie and I will do everything to help you settle in your new life and job.' she smirks and touches me comfortingly. 'I'm looking forward to binning your awful T-shirts and jeans.' She sighs it goes without saying as Rosemary you will have to pull your weight with the housework.' She gives me a hug and I begin to cry.

That night in bed I felt divine, pampered and elegant. Julie helped me take off my make-up and lent me fresh panties. Her surprise Christmas gift was an amazingly sexy, canary yellow night-dress. I wore it to bed. It has a plunging neckline, a tiny bow in the cleavage and swathes of silky material that wrapped around my sensually alive body. It was totally unnecessary but she felt I needed a treat after taking everything so well.

Did I sleep well? Wouldn't you? Oh and a week later I'm still grateful for Auntie and have phoned 10 times to say thank you. Bless her.

The end... You decide.

How does my new job as a sexy girl go? How do the other girls take the new employee. Does Uncle George see my knickers again? How do I live up to my Mums expectations and what about my step dad why is he so willing?