Author's note:
The novella below is my submission for the 2018 Winter Holidays Contest 2018.
Please be aware that this work of fiction contains a variety of elements that might bother some readers, including BDSM themes (e.g., light bondage, master/slave dynamics, spanking and whipping for punishment); coercion themes (e.g., coerced/questionable consent, coerced exhibitionism, coerced sex with a third party, coerced ass-to-mouth play); group sex (female/female/male threesome); same gender sex (female/female); anal sex; and overtones of magical/fantastical elements. If any of these aspects trouble you, please consider not reading. If they do not, I hope you enjoy reading this story as much, or more, than I enjoyed writing it.
Thank you,
Kveldulf
PROLOGUE: Kris
Kris followed the girl who was dressed as an elf, watching her as she walked, eyes on her legs. He would have liked to have seen more of her derriere, but she was wearing an abomination that was a cross between a skirt and shorts, and it revealed very little. Still, the way the fabric moved as she walked told him her ass, although proportionate to her toned, slender legs, was well rounded, as it should be.
When she reached the middle of the mall, she headed toward the garish castle called Santa's Winter Palace, at least according to the sign. A man dressed as Santa Claus was there, as were several young women dressed as elves. He suspected the one he had encountered had been on a break. He strolled past, stopping to look in a store window. After a few seconds of seeming to examine the wares in the store's display, he walked to a set of benches near the 'palace' and sat, looking at his phone. At least, he pretended to look at his phone. He was actually studying the sight before him.
The blonde girl he had followed chatted with a curvy dark-haired woman for a bit, then walked over to where the Santa Claus sat on a gaudy, gilded throne. They exchanged a few words, then the blonde replaced another woman at the front of the line, where the next child and parent waited their turn.
It was the first chance Kris had to really see the young woman's chest, and he was amazed at the size of her breasts. The rest of her was petite, although with nice curves, as far as he could tell. Her chest was far from petite, however, a fact revealed by the tight, green, snowflake-adorned sweater.
He dialed a number on his phone, a plan already forming in his head.
"I think I found something tasty for us, my dear," the large man said, stroking his full, white beard.
PART 1: Megan, The Naughty Elf
No matter how she adjusted her sweater, it clung to Megan's breasts in a way she was sure would garner more complaints. Not from the dads, of course, but from the moms. It was always the moms who complained about the elf costumes. Before this holiday season, most of the complaints had involved the skirts. Now it was the sweaters.
The elf costumes for the mall's Santa's Winter Palace were color-coded based on each elves' job. Santa's attendants, the young women who kept order in the line and sent the next kid in line to Santa, wore green. The customer service/sales elves wore red. The photographer elves wore blue. But other than their color, all the elf costumes were traditionally the same: a high-necked sweater with snowflakes on it, a short skirt, horizontally striped tights, elf shoes, and, of course, an elf hat.
The shortness of the skirts had been a growing issue for several years, but the prior year it had spawned an actual protest at the Winter Palace. Mall management had responded by switching from the prior cheerleader style circle skirts to skorts that looked like a longer skirt but functioned as shorts. The skorts covered more leg and did not ride up in the back, so most of the mall patrons, as well as the elves themselves, were happy with the change to the costume.
But mall management and the young women playing elves discovered the skirts had merely been the beginning. The complaints this holiday season concerned the sweaters. Although they had a high crew-neck and long sleeves, thus showing almost no skin whatsoever, they were made of a light-weight synthetic weave that was both thinner than traditional sweaters. This meant that for any of the elves with a b-cup or more, a sweater small enough to fit everywhere else was tight over the bosom.
For Megan, who was considerably larger than a b-cup, the complaints had led to her being required to wear a sweater a size larger than she normally wore, and even then, more complaints had rolled in. She did not want to go up another size because the top would look like a tent everywhere except her chest. On the other hand, no adjustment she made helped the one-size-too-large sweater do anything but mold itself to her breasts.
"It's a losing battle, Megan," Maria said, moving to stand next to Megan in front of the full-length mirror. As the darker haired woman adjusted her red elf costume, Megan's eyes homed in on her chest. Maria had the same problem Megan had. But today, she looked significantly smaller.
"What did you do?"
"What do you mean?
"Your boobs. They look smaller."
"I'm wearing a sports bra that's a couple of cup sizes smaller than I normally wear. It kinda smashes everything down."
"Isn't that uncomfortable?"
"Yeah, it fucking hurts. But otherwise, I have to wear a big sweater or keep getting the complaints, like you."
"Stupid bitches," Megan growled. "If they're so worried their husbands will like what they see, maybe they should work on looking more like us."
"Maybe. But I need this job to get presents for my family, so I'm conforming. Literally. You need to do the same or wear the bigger sweater."
"But we have the new Santa tonight," Megan pouted. "I don't want to wear the bigger sweater."
"Yeah, that's not a problem for those of us who don't have a Santa fetish, blondie," Maria snickered before heading out the locker room door.
"It's not a fetish," Megan mumbled under her breath. "I just like Santa."
***
Megan Stuart more than liked Santa Claus. The twenty-one-year-old blonde had always loved him. As a little girl, it had been hero worship. When she hit her tweens and early teens, she had wanted to be Mrs. Claus, even after she had to face the horrible truth that Santa Claus was not real. In high school, she had somewhat left her fascination with the jolly elf behind, but it had returned stronger than ever when she had first taken a job as an elf at the mall when she was eighteen.
But her renewed interest turned more toward lust than love, and she had explored numerous opportunities for naughty fun with the men who played Santa. One of Megan's favorite things was confessing to Santa how naughty she was, often in pornographic detail, then beg to be spanked as punishment. After the spanking, she would then offer fellatio or sex. To date, she had never had a Santa turn her down.
This year, she had mainly worked evening shifts with Jake Hines, a forty-four-year-old married man who was playing Santa to make sure his kids had a good Christmas, and who complained often that he would not have to do so if his wife would get even a part-time job. Jake jumped at the chance to use Megan, and other than the skorts making the spanking less effective than it had with the old skirts, he had been her favorite Santa to date.
One reason for this was that Jake was an experienced lover, albeit somewhat selfish. Another, and more important, factor was that the man knew several of the after-hours security guards at the mall. This allowed Megan and Jake to stay in costume and use the Winter Palace set for their trysts. At first, they had confined their activities to the throne, but a couple of weeks in they had engaged in some type of sexual activity everywhere in the mall's Christmas display, including in the toddler play area.
