There are no underage characters in this story. Being that this is a story about Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus, all characters betrayed are way over the age of 18.
This is a Winter Contest story, please vote.
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This is the real, unedited, sexually explicit story of Mrs. Claus & the Elves. A true story, the names of the elves were changed to protect their families and to spare them from embarrassment. Alas, Christmas will never be the same.
"You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry, you'd better not pout, I'm telling you why, Santa Claus is coming to town. He's making as list, he's checkin' it twice, he's gonna find out whose naughty or nice, Santa Claus is coming to town. He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows if you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good (so you'd) better be good for goodness sake."
Trying to cheer himself up to salvage his Christmas holiday, Santa silently sung himself Christmas songs in the privacy of his office. The safe haven he ran to when hiding himself from the lunacy of Mrs. Claus, he needed some time alone to think.
"Rudolph the red-nose reindeer, had a very shiny nose, and if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows. All of the other reindeer, used to laugh and call him namesβ"
Even after playing Bing Crosby, Burl Ives, and Nat King Cole records, it's no use. For the first time in his life, submerged in a deep, dark funk, Santa was depressed. Instead of singing Christmas songs, Nick stood and turned to stare out his office window while letting out soulful sighs. Normally very jolly at this time of the year, he was out of sorts. Instead of being happy, he was sad because, instead of being good, Mrs. Claus was being bad, very bad.
The good news was that it was snowing. It was going to be a white Christmas after all and, if only by that weather related fact, he was happy. The bad news was that his wife having gone absolutely bonkers, was driving him mad. Ruining everything by being so difficult to please and putting a big damper on his Christmas, she's been bloody certifiable of late.
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Never having had a problem with Mrs. Claus before, he was having some serious issues with her now. With her never acting like this before, he didn't understand why she was so problematic now. Demanding that she get what she wants when she wants it, especially in regards to her Christmas gift, she's suddenly turned into a real bitch. Being that she's been dieting lately, maybe it was something she ate or didn't eat. Maybe it was something hormonal but he was at a loss to explain her sudden mood swings.
Lately, instead of wearing his trademark red, velvet stocking cap trimmed with white fur, he's been walking around the house wearing his Tom Brady, New England Patriots, autographed football helmet that he received as a Christmas gift from Mrs. Claus last year. Whenever she sees him walking through his toy shop, she throws things at him, mostly non-lethal Christmas ornaments. He didn't understand why she's so insistent on him giving her what so she wants for Christmas, when knowing full well that he was unwilling and unable to fulfill her Christmas wish, she's been on a rampage ever since.
Without doubt, not related to his sudden foul mood, his sadness was more related to what his wife wanted for Christmas, her Christmas gift, than it was to the Christmas season itself. He loved Christmas, he loved the Christmas season, he loved children, and he loved his wife. Instead of feeling happy that he relented and agreed to finally make his wife's wish come true, he was sad. Unlike other years when he couldn't give her what she so wanted, submitting to the sexual desires of his beloved, for the first time in a very long time, he was finally going to give his wife, Mary, exactly what she wanted for Christmas.
Something she's been asking him for years, he wished he could give her a baby but as hard and as often as they tried, babies, children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren were out of the question and not in their cards. Now too old to have a child of their own anyway, they unselfishly shared their happiness, their joy, and their wealth with the children of the world. As she does every year, just before he was scheduled to leave to make his Christmas Eve deliveries, Mary climbed up on his lap as she's done for hundreds of years, from the first day they were married, and whispered what she wanted for Christmas in his ear.
Not a materialistic woman, never wanting a new car, a diamond necklace, or a fur coat, he already knew what it was she wanted. After asking for a baby and unable to give her that, alas, she was asking for a second wish that he couldn't give her either. Every year, in the way that she asked for a baby with her first wish, her second wish was always the same. After he was able to make so very many people happy by fulfilling their Christmas wishes, it made him sad that he was unable to make his own wife happy by fulfilling her Christmas wish too.
"I only want one thing Nick. All that I want is a baby. Give me a baby, Nick. A baby is all that I want for Christmas. Please give me a baby," she said saying the same thing every year.
Spending days, nights, weeks, months, and years trying to give her the only thing that she so wanted, unable to oblige her, unable to give her what she asked him for, he gave her a multitude of gifts, clothes, treats, sweets, and jewelry. Seemingly happy with all that he gave her and appreciative of his generosity, he knew that the one thing that she so wanted, a baby, was something that he was unable to give her. Without thinking twice, she'd exchange her mountain of Christmas presents for a baby. Odd that a couple who loved children so very much couldn't have a child of their own, the other shoe, it's funny how life is sometimes so ironic, sadistic, and mean.
Now that they're an older, semi-retired couple living on Social Security, Medicare, and what little else they were able to set aside from selling toys year round from his toy shop, Mary hasn't asked him for a baby in a very long time. Her wishes and desires, not for herself, were always for someone else, someone in need and someone who was having a difficult, financial time. In this still bad economy with so many people out of work, out of money, and out of hope, Santa felt frazzled that he couldn't provide for all, not even for his wife, especially for his wife. Not wanting anything for herself, he couldn't remember the last time she made a wish expressly and selfishly for herself, that is, until now.
"God help me. What should I do? What should I do?" He look up to the Heaven's to pray for God's help, guidance, and forgiveness for what he was about to do.
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With Mary's childbearing years over, a long ago, after she reached menopause, her Christmas wishes suddenly changed from asking for a baby and from asking for a gift for someone else in dire need to asking something disgusting for herself. Finally, not giving her Christmas wish away to someone else, she asked him for a wish expressly and especially for herself. For the first time, Mary asked him for a gift that was specifically and personally for her. Oh, boy, oh boy, shockingly bad, was it ever personal.
Alas, once again, Mary wanted something else that Nick was unable to provide and, perhaps, unwilling to give his wife. As she did every year, she climbed up on his lap and whispered her wish in his ear. The first time he heard her whisper her wish, as if a jolt of electricity surged through his body, he was shocked. He was stunned. Wondering if he was losing his hearing, he couldn't believe what she asked him to give her for Christmas. He couldn't believe what he thought he heard.
He looked at her as if she was kidding. He looked at her as if she had lost her mind or had been into the cooking sherry again. Maybe he was right and his hearing was going and maybe he heard only what he thought she said. Certainly, his beloved Mary would never ask him for something so vilely wicked and so outrageously sexual. Mary was a good woman, a God fearing woman, a church going, Christen woman, and not a sexual woman at all. She'd never ask for what he thought she just asked to have and she'd never ask him to give her the permission to have.
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"Pardon? Please forgive me. I'm sorry Mary. I think I need to have my hearing checked. I'm embarrassed to tell you what I thought you said," he said with a laugh. "Ho! Ho! Ho! Could you please repeat what you want for Christmas? I didn't hear what you said," he said leaning his ear closer to his wife's mouth.
She moved her mouth away from his ear to take his white bearded face in her kind hands and to make eye contact with him and his rosy cheeks. As if he was, indeed, hard of hearing but could read lips, she acquiesced herself to his hearing disability by slowly mouthing the words.
"I said," she said again this time a little louder and a lot slower while enunciating each word. "I want to have my sexy, sexual way with the elves," she said unashamed and unembarrassed by her Christmas wish.
"Mary!"
He looked at her with astonishment that his wife would dare ask him for such a forbidden gift. Ignoring his protestation, she continued in her lustful plea for her husband to satisfy her Christmas wish and her sexual needs by allowing her to have her wicked, sexual way with not one of the elves but with all of the elves.