Goblin Wives North Pole Pt 05A

Goblin Wives -- North Pole Part 5a

© JAKwriter aka writerJAK -- December 2023

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Chief Inspector Rudolph was reviewing the reports on her desk, while the High Council and Elven Council news conference was being televised. Nothing in the reports contradicted what they were saying, but much was left out.

The fiasco transporting the elf was only mitigated by the Dragon Ssssssilvia, who, as Overwatch 2, flamed two Sleighs full of elves flying in to rescue their former boss. How the fuck they knew the time and location was something Commissioner Cratchit would have to discover. The High Chancellor wanted Roberta's initial report later today and would likely rip her ogre ass a new one. Fortunately for her, the fat elf was now safely ensconced in Belltree, with more security than anyone except the High Chancellor.

Details from Chief Engineer Cratchit were bad, extremely bad. She agreed with Timothina that the Workshop needed to be demolished, preferably with fire, LOTS of fire. After that, even MORE fire.

Everything her people was finding in the records from the Workshop showed the old Santa was up to nothing good. Given all that had happened, Eliza was bothered about what it might have done while with Mrs. McGillicuddy. And why give her the furs from the Sleigh? A visit might be in order. Maybe a little chat.

The story about the Goblin Fertility Clinic caught Eliza's eye. Who is the mysterious donor? Some hot stud muffin? Maybe just an average guy? Elf? Dwarf? Ogre? Troll? Was the donor even male? Maybe a Futa or a Hermi? She'd find out, just to assuage her curiosity.

The invite from the Goblin Queen seemed off. Why the rush? She knew Isadora was a first class bitch. Her younger sister only slightly better. Eliza had a hunch something was rotten in Denmark.

A quick message to one of her contacts in Isadora's Palace was in order. Keep an eye out for the donor. Who knows, she might have to send out a rescue mission. Or at least help him or it escape.

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Timothina Cratchit kept going over and over the findings from her team. Santa's Workshop is a complete loss. Nothing to salvage. Nothing to reclaim. Then there is what they found in eight former storerooms. The only thing they could do was burn the place down, burn it again, and keep burning it until NOTHING was left.

"Tomas!"

"Yes Chief?"

"I need you to round up as much flammables as you can."

"How much? What kind?"

"Everything you can get, as much as you can get by the morning of New Year's Eve."

"The Workshop?"

"Yeah...."

"Will do Chief! I'll let you know later today how much we can probably get. Then I'll work to get more."

"Thank you, Tomas."

"Chief...is there anything else?"

"No Tomas. You can go."

"Yes Chief!"

Timothina looked back at the report she was writing. Hopefully, the High Chancellor would agree and give her the extra assets she needed.

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The former Santa, the former Saint Nick, was so happy in its new home. Yes, the room was barren. But all the awful smells of intercourse and sexual activity were gone. Everything was white except for the few items made of steel or glass. The walls were white. The bed was a steel frame with a white mattress and white sheets. The toilet and sink were also steel. There was one wall of glass with a sliding glass door, all trimmed in white. Behind it was another white room with white suits that people wore when visiting it.

It only wished it knew what they were doing. When it first arrived, the figures in the white suits poked and prodded it. Took hair, skin, nail clippings, saliva, blood, and stool samples. Sent a probe up its anus for some reason. That felt like a FUCKING LARGE STICK was being shoved inside it. Then there was the catheter inserted into the slit where it expels urine. THAT felt like a FUCKING CANTALOUPE. And they left it there for a long time, making it drink fluids then collecting its urine for some unknown reason. They took eight samples before removing the catheter. THAT felt like they were pulling a FUCKING WATERMELLON out of it.

Since then, it's been mostly quiet. The figures only check on it every few hours, taking new samples.

It wished it had something to do, but the respite from all the horrible smells, the awful odors, the terrible miasmas, and the stinking aromas was worth it. If things could stay like this, then maybe it could get back to its special project. It wondered how the latest formula was working out.