Glass Ceiling
Tinsel rifled through her knapsack and retrieved a thermos of eggnog. She had prepared it for the long night ahead, imagining at the time that she would crack it open when Santa started delivering over Russia and everything was rolling along easy – a delicious treat for a successful mission well underway. She had spiked it with bourbon. She walked back to the control deck, unscrewed the cap, set it down on the desk, opened the canister, and filled the cap to the brim. Then she took a giant swig directly from the thermos.
She fell back to her chair and sulked.
It was over. Everything had fallen apart. Christmas was ruined. No toys. No Christmas bonus. No joy-
Another feminine moan poured through the speakers.
Ok. No joy...except for hers.
"Mmm. Tinsel..."
Tinsel swallowed a sip of eggnog and reached for the mic engage. "Yeah, boss?"
"Can we get started?"
Tinsel sat up in her chair. "Excuse me?"
"Can we get started?"
"You mean, you want to start...delivering?" Tinsel perked up.
"Yes." The feminine voice giggled. "Let's."
Tinsel hopped to attention. "That's great!" Tinsel couldn't believe. Maybe Christmas wasn't ruined after all! She grabbed her eggnog and rushed to Byron's seat, settling into the leather chair proudly.
Finally -- it was her turn to drive!
"Okay, I'm pulling up the itinerary!"
"Mmm...yes! Yes!"
Nick sure sounded excited. Tinsel expertly set up the interface. Though she was considered "copilot", Byron had been stingy with the controls since the very beginning of development, making it clear he was the only elf qualified to operate the teleporter. But she had watched him work and done her homework. She even knew the keyboard shortcuts to the point that sitting next to Byron as he plodded along had become unbearable.
A few more clicks. There.
"Okay, you're all set!" A proud expression washed over Tinsel's face and she shimmied in her seat giddily. A female elf was about to make the first Christmas teleport drop in history! Nick had breasts! Glass ceilings were being broken. All of the years of pushing paper hour after hour for her boss had finally paid off. She would get a promotion for sure, and she would be the envy of all the women of the North Pole. Then maybe she would finally meet a nice rich elf and start a family before her eggs dried up.
"So just to review, the first stop is the Thompson family house. Auckland, New Zealand. The last stop is...Max Flow. The 'naughty list coal drop.' He seems to be on a yacht."
"Max Flow?"
"Yes. Max Flow. 'Billionaire playboy.' You know – the guy you troll every year."
Nick moaned. She twisted her nipples while she continued exploring the depths of her pussy with two dainty fingers. With a curl of her fingers she found a spot that was especially wonderful and focused her attention on it. Her Santa suit fell threadbare from her body, completely destroyed by claw and transformation.
She remembered Max. She remembered seeing him sleeping -- well, not so much sleeping...
Her pussy swelled as she thought about all the things she had seen Max do. She sighed. "Max Flow. He's always naughty." She stretched out the word naughty. Then repeated it. "Naughty!" She loved the way the word resonated in her chest and into her nipples. She whispered it again and her nipples hardened.
"Yes. I agree. He's naughty, all right!" Tinsel took a sip of eggnog and continued verifying the itinerary.
"So fucking naughty!" Mmm. She remembered something especially naughty he had done to a model last Christmas. She remembered the thin blonde he had been with and the bowlegged walk and blissful smile she had when he was done with her -- the thought made her jealous.
"Yep. Totally fucking naughty," said Tinsel. Tinsel was in her element, bobbing up and down in her chair, distracted by the figures on the screen, feeling like a pioneer.
Tinsels acknowledgement made Nick's pussy drip. She plunged three fingers into her pussy and moaned.
"Mmm. Tinsel?"
"Yes, boss."
"Do you think that coal drop will be easy?"
Tinsel clicked Max's name and examined the metrics. "Yes. It should be very easy. We're dropping on a yacht, so I will need to make some consideration for the ocean waves, otherwise it will be as easy as the rest of the drops. Actually it will be easier since over the ocean you'll have a lower chance of being seen by bystanders."
Nick thought for a moment. Her mind felt cloudy again. She pulled her fingers from her dripping pussy and brought them to the bottom of a breast, caressing it firmly. She knew she was getting a late start, so it would be a good idea to save her energy.
"Tinsel, I think given all that's happened, we should start with something easy, don't you?"
Tinsel thought for a moment. The suggestion actually made a lot of sense. "I absolutely agree. Let's do Max Flow first. In and out. Easy peasy."
"Mmm..."
Tinsel selected Max Flow's name and moved him to the head of the drop list. She took another sip of eggnog. Just think what Byron and Mrs. Claus will think when they walk in and see everything under control! She laughed loudly, adding, "Fuck Byron."
"Excuse me?"
"Uh. Nothing." Tinsel cleared her throat. "Okay, you are ready to go. I've adjusted your re-entry for the oceanic conditions. You will re-enter two feet above the floor so be prepared for a bit of a hop when you arrive. Just give me the word and I'll drop you in."
"Give me a moment."
Nick looked down at her torn jumpsuit.
This won't do.
She needed something comfortable. Something presentable. She tore the remaining rags from her curvy body – from her thick thighs and from over her head – struggling for a moment when the fabric became tangled in her antlers. Finally she was naked, except for her red jingle bell collar. As much as she would love to make her deliveries naked, she knew propriety was everything. And so, she fetched her magic sack floating next to her in the in-between and began rifling through it.
Back when she was driving the sleigh all she wore is her reins, collar, and a smart red blanket over her back that was lined with white puffs. Could she wrap herself in a red blanket?
The image of Mrs. Claus, clad in lingerie and spread eagle in a sea of blankets, came rushing back to her.
---
She settled her tits into the cups of the red bra and slipped the straps over her shoulders. She pulled the underwear over her thick thighs over her sculpted crotch. The string settled between the deep crack in her ass. She ran a red garter with white lace up her leg, to the line on her right thigh where her fur 'stocking' started.
Her lingerie now matched her wife's. She imagined returning from the long night ahead, crawling over Emma and waking her with a flick of her tiny new tongue.
She breathed in and ran a hand through her long blonde hair. "I think I'm ready, Tinsel."
"Hold tight, boss. Here we go!"
Tinsel hit the button and Nick was gone. His mangled suit was left alone to float through space and time. Forever.
Threshold
Max woke in a start at the clattering outside his door. He had fallen asleep. The lights in his bedroom were on. The television blared a classic Christmas movie. The female lead had just lost her robe. She was hiding in the bushes for fear of being naked.
Max grabbed his shotgun in one hand and quickly whispered "lights off." The room was washed in darkness.
Max waited.
She reentered midair next to the tree outside of Max's bedroom. Her hooves clicked the hardwood floor only a moment before she slipped and fell backwards. On the way down her antlers caught in a long red ribbon wrapped around Max's tree, and she brought the entire thing down with her, falling squarely on her plump butt.
"What was that noise?" asked Tinsel.
"Bumpy landing."
She tried her best to untangle the ribbon and decorations from her antlers and then stood up, immediately falling back again -- for a good reason. Outside of the in-between, Santa had never had a curvaceous woman's body, especially one with hooves, and Vixen had only occasionally walked upright, mostly when mocking human behavior over ale at the reindeer bar. Combining these in-experiences into one made for immediate balance issues.
"Is everything okay? Have you made the delivery?"
"Give me a second! I'm trying to stand."
She lifted herself up again, slowly this time, clicking her hooves down carefully before adjusting her weight with her luscious legs. Finally she stood, pigeon toed, ass out, slowly working out the right balance between her big melons and bulging booty. She took a step with a dainty foot, then another, correcting and learning as she went. She circled the room, her gait gradually changing from a clumsy stumble to a proud sensual stride. Her boobs and hips swayed side to side; her ass bounced, alternating with each step; her wet pussy squished between the gap in her thighs. Her pace quickened, until finally she was skipping around the room, curves bouncing in every direction.
It was coal time.
She sniffed the air. She could smell Max in the adjacent bedroom. She turned and examined the door. No lights shone beneath it. The musk was strong. She let it play in the caverns of her nostrils. It smelled so wonderful. She crept to the door and sniffed again. He was in there, all right. Blood rushed to her pussy and it swelled between her legs.
It was then she had a naughty thought. What if she put the coal around his bed while he was sleeping? She giggled, imagining the cute look on his face when he woke up surrounded by coal.
She brought her hand to the doorknob. Her long black nails clinked on the metal. She held her magic sack tightly, took a deep breath and rotated her slender wrist. The door creaked open. She felt giddy. She had been waiting for this prank all year.
She lifted a foot to tiptoe into Max's room and her antlers hit the doorframe above her.
"Fucking hell!" she whispered. She stepped back. She eyed the doorframe above her and lifted a hand to measure the clearance of her giant rack. Satisfied she understood her new dimensions, she ducked, and walked into Max's room headfirst.
Lights On
"Fireplace!" yelled the deep male voice.
A fire raged into being in the fireplace on the far side of Max's room. She stumbled back and fell to her ass again. Her earpiece slipped from her ear and bounced across the floor.
"Move an inch and you're dead."
Tinsel sat up in her seat. "Oh shit! What's happening? What's happening?"
Max slipped to the edge of the bed, taking aim in the dim light.
