Synopsis: Ms. Claus has had enough of Santa's philandering. It's payback time.
January 5th, 2006
The long black hair hung along the collar accusingly like a lump of jet black coal against a background of brilliant white fur. Ms. Claus snorted, "Probably Mexican coal at that..."
She tossed Santa's coat into the laundry with a glower. The soiled garment reeked of tobacco and alcohol which, combined with the dark hair, fleshed out the mental image of what Santa had been doing over the past week and a half. Deep down the woman knew this had been going on...for centuries, if not longer. But something snapped on that cold day on the North Pole. Ms. Katerina Claus had finally gone over the edge. She knew what she needed to do and her blue eyes glimmered with a steely resolve.
In the bedroom, Jolly Saint Nick snored away a hangover, blissfully unaware of the repercussions of his latest holiday adventure.
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December 24th, 2006
Katerina clutched a warm cocoa to her breast as she waved to the departing sleigh with a smile. Turning away from the dark night, blowing snow and whistling wind, she retreated into the house to her bedroom. Swapping the traditional cocoa for some wine, the woman slipped off her red flannel robe, and took out a slender vibe. She was going to enjoy this to the hilt.
There were a lot of things that normal people didn't know about life on the North Pole. The folklore and branding image folks left out a lot of details about how things really were; after all, they were writing for five-year olds as their primary audience. And little kids certainly didn't need to know that Ms. Claus was a statuesque blonde bombshell who preferred lesbian porn and bondage to baking sugar cookies. Sure, Katerina Claus was a young bisexual tart. But Santa Claus liked her like this, and you wouldn't believe some of the things that elf magic can do to keep a girl young. Look at it this way, how else, besides magic, could that fat old man get it up anyway?
Katerina was many things, but one of the things that she wasn't was unfaithful. The last time she got a sniff of pussy was back in her home village in Germania when she first met Nicholas. She, Nick, and a luscious raven-haired girl named Renate had a lovely threesome on St. Stephen's Day. Looking back on things, that liaison was perhaps a bad omen for the marriage, but the fact remained that Katerina had gone well over a millennium without a good woman to lay.