Holly Helps the Displaced Elf

The hot water in the shower splashed over Holly's tan body. Her eyes were sudsy as she scrubbed her short golden hair under the shower head. Soap suds slipped slowly, seductively down her 19-year-old's torso. Rising steam formed indistinct shapes around her. The only sound was the splashing of water onto the tiles at her feet. Then, there was a voice.

"Don't scream, Miss Holly. I need your help."

"Who's there?" Holly asked. "And why would I scream?"

"Well, I'm an elf," he said, "and I'm in your shower."

She wiped the suds from her large blue eyes. Through the steam, she saw a small gnome standing opposite her in the shower, but he didn't look wet. If Holly was upset the presence of an elf in her shower, she hid it well. She scrubbed her tummy with a loofa full of body wash.

"No big deal," she said. "I grew up in an orphanage. Privacy was a luxury. But, Christmas is coming. Why aren't you at the North Pole? "

"That is so racist!" the elf fumed. "Not all elves work for Santa, you know. We make shoes, design jewelry, craft CGI effects, and do polling data for the Clintons. So don't just assume that every elf is a Workshop worker."

"Sorry. No need to get huffy. So, what was your job?" she asked.

He grumbled some elven oaths before he answered.

"Fine," he said. "I worked in Santa's Workshop. I've worked there for 768 years, until I got thrown out of the North Pole a year ago. That's why I need your help. I've got to get back there before a whole year passes."

Holly re-soaped the loofa and began to clean between her legs.

"Why don't you stand up?" she asked. "Or do you enjoy the view from down there?"

"I am standing! And don't flatter yourself. You could do with a good trim."

"So, close your eyes and turn around, Mr. Elf."

"I hate to burst your bubble, Missy, but you've got nothing on the lady elves I'm used to partying with up North. I mean, look at you. You look like you're wearing a belt cinching your waist, even naked. Elven babes are straight at the sides, up and down. And their breasts are nice and flat, not mounds of quivering flesh, tipped with little eraser bits like you. And your ass! Two round globes like softballs back there. The best elven women have no more that two coconut halves behind -- just enough to grab onto and run my fingers through their hair."

"Well, you're a horny little devil, aren't you?"

"Of course! Don't you know what we do up North? It's party time all year. We've had to invent new names for orgies, just to keep everyone from becoming bored. Pigs in a blanket wasn't always a breakfast item."

"Hand me a towel, what-ever-your-name-is," Holly said.

"My name is hard for you Southerners to pronounce. It was given to me because I have the fastest, most precise hands in toy-making. It's the sound of a blizzard wind through a window frame. Whsht."

"I can say that. Whoooshhhd."

"Quicker, Holly."

"So, Whsht, what got you thrown out of the North Pole? Your fast hands? You must have been pretty bad."

"Not really. The Big Man, Santa, is horribly temperamental. I mean, he puts children on a Naughty List and gives them coal for Christmas. Brutal!"

"So, what did you do to get yourself kicked out?"

"Let's just say I used my skilled hands to make Mrs. Claus smile. The Big Man found out and banished me."

Holly thought about it for a few last swipes of the loofa on the bottoms of her feet.

"Just how fast are those hands of yours, Whsht?"

Instead of answering, the elf grabbed her razor from the shower shelf. In a flash, he slathered body wash on Holly's untrimmed bush, and attacked her golden foliage. Holly felt quick probing fingers at her snatch. A brief sound of "scritch, scritch, scrizz, sizz," then she felt the water sluice easily where her muff used to lie. Her own fingers explored. She had been shaved smoother than a cell phone screen.

"Sleek," she said. She liked it.

"So, I noticed that you're a virgin," he said.

"Well, of course, I am. I'm not married."

The elf choked back a surprised laugh.

"Not all brides are virgins, you know," he said. "Although it is a prime reason for getting kicked off the Nice List by the Big Man."

"I'm waiting until I can marry the right man. I want to make it special for him. Otherwise, there's not too much special about me."

"A virgin in college. Do you have any idea how rare you are?"

"I have some idea, yes," she admitted, frowning. "Not many college men care about waiting. But I do."

Whsht thought, She's perfect! She'll help me get back to the North Pole easy!

"Now, about that towel..." Holly held out her arms.

Whsht handed her a white hand towel towel.

Holly held it up, and found she could only dry one boob at a time.

"You see? You have to focus on each of your titties separately just to dry off. And go all around those wide hips. Your legs have curves and bumps all the way down. Ugh! Don't forget your two softballs behind you!"

"Are you sure you're not just perving on me? You notice a lot of stuff," she said, toweling her short blonde hair.

"Ugh!" Whsht made a face like he was going to vomit. "Not only are your breasts too big, and your waist too narrow, your eyes are blue! That's just not normal. Orange is normal. And your nose is too small, your teeth are too straight with only four pointy canines, so you really don't have any fangs at all."

Holly powdered her newly shaved area. She snapped on a purple thong that lay neatly between her butt cheeks and flush with her creamy mons. She didn't like wearing a bra, and so she just put on a flimsy tangerine blouse. To complete her ensemble, she wriggled into too short shorts.

Whsht watched her dress, his tongue lolling a bit outside his mouth.

"So, why exactly are you here?" she asked.

Whsht shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I need your help! I can return to the Pole if I do some wonderful, spectacularly good deed. I know I can't do it by myself. I'm not that kind of elf. But I know you can help. You're perfect!"

Whsht knew Holly's life story after his worldwide search for someone to help him. Holly was one of the most brilliant women in the world, a modern day Madam Curie. She had left the orphanage when she turned 18 a year ago. She had won a full scholarship, tuition, board, books and fees, part of which supported her solo apartment. She needed to work part-time to have some spending money. In college, she was studying advanced mathematics and physics at Miami University without much sweat. She had been on Santa's Nice List her entire life. Holly was such a star that the elf was positive she could help him.

"So," he said, "will you help me?"

He didn't see how she could refuse, so he was surprised and angered when she answered.

"I'm sorry, but I just go to school, study, and work my part-time job," she told him. "I don't really do any good deeds."

"But you could do just one good deed!" he protested. "You're a talented, ingenious egg-head."

"Do you think you're complimenting me?"

"Look, I'm sorry I showed up in your shower. I can see that it was bad timing. That was my bad."

"Uh huh," said Holly, not at all convinced it was an accident.

"But I really need your unique mathematical brain."

"I'm pretty booked. And Christmas is only a few days away. How can I do a wonderful thing in such a short time?"

Whsht grinned. He had her hooked!

"Here's my plan. I know a student here who is working on an app to help with cancer. He's been at it for a while, and is hung up on some recurrent math formula. I know you could help him with his algorithms. He's in your math classes, but nowhere near as talented as you. What do you say?"

"I don't know medicine. I don't know research. I only know math, physics, and multiple ways to approach infinity. I don't think I can help you or him."

Whsht pulled at his green hair and screwed up his orange eyes.

"Ugh! Don't give up so easily! I know Christmas is coming! The best orgies of the year, and I don't want to miss out! Look, Miss Holly, I've done all the basic research. I've found the guy who needs help. Just take a look at his problem, and see if you can solve it."

Holly picked up her backpack, and swung it over her shoulder. She put her sunglasses in the cleavage of her blouse, and picked up a straw sun hat. Her shoes were comfortable, but with a three inch heel, which made her legs look even longer and her shorts look even shorter.

"What's in it for me?" It was the kind of practical question he should have expected from an orphan, but not from someone perpetually on the Nice List.

"Ending pain and suffering and premature death or disfigurement for mankind seems to be pretty big benefit, Holly. But I tell you what. You do this for me, and I'll make sure you're permanently on Santa's Extra Extra Nice List -- the ones who get the best Christmas presents every year. What do you say?"

"I'm really booked up. Maybe after Christmas break?" She locked her door, making sure Whsht was outside. She sashayed towards her class with a saucy, bouncy step.

Whsht groaned, and clawed at his face with his agile, spider-like fingers. Then he rubbed his hands together, and disappeared with the sound and speed of a blizzard wind.

Even in December, Southern Florida was bright and the sun warm on Holly's exposed legs. She strode to her class. The class was combinatorics, for which she had an natural affinity. She was one of only 4 women on the graduate track among 26 men. Most were nerds who couldn't help touching her hair, causing her to eventually cut it short. It didn't help. Because the guys had a tendency to crowd around her, she liked to sit in the front row, so she could see the board, and be seen by the professor. As the professor chalked the board, Holly started to daydream about solving complex problems and perhaps helping her new elven friend.

Suddenly, a handwritten problem appeared on her desk. It was fascinating, challenging, and nearly impossible to solve. She looked around for the elf who put it there, and found him at the back of the class, waving his long fingers at her.

She was drawn into the problem, like a maze. Whether she would find a minotaur or a golden key at the center could not be predicted. The answer to the problem was not easily discernible. It might truly be impossible. But her mind would not let it go. She felt as though she were being seduced by the problem.

The professor slammed the chalk on her desk.

"Well, Holly. I see you're not taking notes, so you must already have the answer to the problem on the chalkboard. So, here's the chalk. Enlighten us."

Holly wasn't surprised to be called upon. In fact, she was rather used to it. In front of the room, her back to the class, she could almost feel the eyes of every man in the class on her ass, her back, and her bare legs. Even the professor was more interested in her figure than the ones on the board. She always paused before solving the chalked problem completely, to turn and face the group. That way they could leer at the round flesh on her thighs. Let them dream, she thought, they need some gentle excitement.

She scratched her short golden hair, as though she were really puzzled by the professor's problem. Then, she shook her head as though something suddenly struck her, and turned back to the board, her backside to the class again. With little jumps, she reached up high on the blackboard, and started scratching the formula that answered the professor's latest question. She drew integral curves, brackets, deltas and pi, knowing that these mathematical tautologies stirred very non-mathematical longings in her classmates' minds.

Her classmates applauded her performance, and her answer, as usual. It had become an erotic entertainment to breakup the usual classroom monotony.

With a smile, she deposited the chalk on ledge, and slid back into her chair.

At her desk, she saw several folded pieces of paper, but not the complex problem. She was used to getting their phone numbers, addresses, pictures of their private parts, and invitations to study parties, but she was worried that the problem had been stolen. Then, she found it. It combined logic, combinatorics and probability. It made her mind race and her stomach flutter just to look at it. She glanced around the room, and saw Whsht in the back, giving her a thumbs up.

The professor continued the class, but Holly was quickly distracted by the problem. Near the end of the class, the professor asked if there were any questions, the way he usually did. There were no questions from anyone in the class. The professor nodded, with a smug look on his face.

"The final exam will be in two days. Are you certain that you have no questions?"

A flurry of hands shot up, and the final minutes of the class were consumed by questions that sought to ferret out the questions or answers to the final exam. Holly was unconcerned, since she had such a firm grasp of the material. She kept studying the problem before her.

At the bell, she was still so engrossed in the mysterious problem, that she stayed in the seat through half the next class in topology, which she hadn't yet taken. Midway through the class, she stood up, and exited the class without a word. She spent the rest of the day scribbling in her notebook, struggling to answer the question.

Whsht knew the days until Christmas were dwindling. Once he was gone from the North Pole an entire year, he just wouldn't be welcome in the usual orgies any more. Ever! His hope was that by putting the app's owner and Holly together, their two heads might solve the problem that much sooner. He visited her apartment, but she didn't come back. She wasn't at the library, or in the student union. He began to fret. Finally, near sunset, Whsht found her wandering in the park. He snapped his spidery fingers to get her attention.

"Hey, wake up, Miss Holly," he said.

She was still deep in thought.

"I don't have the entire answer yet," she said, dazed. "I'm close, though. I can almost touch the answer. It's out there."

"So, give me what you have. It might be enough to spur the owner of the problem on to answer it on his own."

"I can't. I'm so close."

"Don't be selfish. According to your daily calendar, you have about fifteen minutes to get to your art class. You go to class, I'll just take what you've done so far."

"You accessed my calendar? Isn't that invasion of privacy?"

"I'm an elf. We have a hard time respecting boundaries."

"Well, respect this! I'm taking my notes with me, and you don't get them until I've solved this thing, no matter how long it takes."

"Good problem, eh?" he said. "I told him you'd be able to help. He's going to meet you at your Life Drawing Class tonight."

Holly frowned, and wrapped her arms around herself.

"That's not a good idea, Whsht. Just let me work. Good-bye!"

Holly walked without the usual swing her hips, without her sashay. Each step felt like walking through a swamp because she was still in the realm of infinite loops and reiterations and incremental approximations. She was slowed down so much that she was nearly late for her class.

Whsht made sure she found the art class. Then, he rubbed his agile, spider-like fingers together, and disappeared with the sound and speed of a blizzard wind.

In the Life Drawing Class, Holly looked around the studio. She saw a roomful of expectant countenances and hungry eyes among the budding artists, but no one who looked out of place. She ducked behind a curtain and disrobed. She walked to the center of the room, where she climbed up on the central, raised platform. She stood with her weight on one leg, completely nude. All eyes took her full measure.

"You've shaved," said one sharp-eyed sketcher.

Holly smiled at the remark, and prepared to hold her pose for thirty minutes. After that, a small break, and she would hold a sitting pose for thirty minutes. Then she would pose lying down, and then half reclining. This would continue until she had been on display for the entire three hours of the class.

But the problem completely distracted her. It gave a pensive frown to her face and added tension to her shoulders. As usual, the rest of her was marble perfect. She had only one flaw -- no one had ever seen her nipples erect. She was always too relaxed or the studio was too warm.

During breaks, her habit was to wander among the easels and sketchpads, offering encouragement to the artists and allowing them to examine body parts that might have been hidden in shadow on the platform. This night, though, she felt entombed in a clear gel preventing her from engaging anyone. She was trapped in her problem.

With only twenty minutes to the end of the class, she sat up suddenly, and a broad smile broke through her placid demeanor. She clapped her hands, and tapped her feet in a jig.

The woman professor leading the class immediately spoke up.

"Please resume your position. We are not finished pulling what we can from your body pose."

But Holly could not be still. She had come up with an answer, or at least a major part of it. She grabbed one of the artist's sketch pads, and turned to a clean sheet. The student offered her his no. 4 pencil, and she began to express her ideas in arcane symbols. When she was finished, she held the sheet at arms length to read it and check for errors. Finding none, she hugged the sheet to her naked body, smearing some of the graphite on her breasts and tummy.

The art teacher was not used to such exuberance in a nude model. She snapped at Holly.

"Well, you can't expect to be paid for the last half hour, Holly. You disrupted my class, and I can't have that. I will call you during the week and we'll discuss whether I can use you next week or not. I expect I will not be able to use you henceforth."

"You mean I'm fired?"

The professor shrugged noncommittally.

Holly apologized, and looked around the class. Most faces were no longer expectant, but either lost in their own images of art or satisfied with the evening and ready to leave the class.

But one face glowed red with embarrassment, and had difficulty meeting her glance. In an instant, Holly knew he was the student who had supplied the complex problem. Whsht had told him to meet her at the Life Drawing Class, without telling him she was the nude model. Surprise and embarrassment were writ large on his cheeks.

She bounded over to him, her sketch paper in front of her, the only thing between her naked body and his gaze. She wanted to hug him, but he diverted his eyes.

"I'm Holly," she said. "You don't have to be shy about looking. I mean, you've seen me for the past three hours. So have the rest of those students. It's no big deal. We didn't have a lot of privacy at the orphanage."

He turned back, still embarrassed.

"It's one thing, you on a raised platform in the center of a studio. It's another to have you within hugging distance, and know how gorgeous you are up close. I'm Linus," he said.

"Okay, Linus," she said. "One hug. Let's get it over with."

She fairly dove into his chest and pulled him close to her. He put his arms around her, one high on her back, the other low on her rounded ass. She stayed there just a little longer than she had intended, until she felt a little pressure from the front of his jeans, and she backed away, clearing her throat.

"I love your problem! Your math problem, I mean. I haven't solved all of it, but here's what I've got." She held the sketch paper to Linus. He took it from her, leaving her completely unclothed before him. He tried to read it, but his eyes kept drifting back to her soft, silky curves.

"You really need to put something on. I'm sorry." Linus blushed again.

"Oh, sorry. Sure."

Holly snapped on her purple thong, slid into her blouse, and wriggled into her shorts. She carried her three-inch heels while they walked. Linus's face slowly became less red. Whsht followed within listening distance.