Part I - The Naughty Elf #2
Making toys the old fashioned way might be time consuming, but it was also fun.
Billy sometimes wondered just how pleased the other elves would be if he ever perfected his machine.
They might just congratulate him on his achievement—and then keep on doing exactly what they’d been doing for the past three hundred years while his machine gathered dust in the basement.
“Hey, Billy! Dinner!”
It was Tulip calling to him from the other side of the room. He put down his magic shaping rods and made his way over to her station, waiting as she packed up her things and got ready to go.
“You could have just called me when you were ready,” he said, knowing better than to help her out. Tulip turned into a beast when someone touched her things.
“But then I would have had to wait for you,” Tulip said, dismissing his complaint. “But who cares about that? Tell me, what did you think? Did you drool?”
Billy was confused.
“What?”
Tulip’s face fell. “You didn’t see him? He was right here getting a tour!”
Shaking his head, Billy smiled. Tulip must be talking about the new Santa again. No, Billy hadn’t seen him. He’d been all wrapped up in making seven speed bikes with purple princess handles. He hadn’t paid any attention to what was going on around him.
“No. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Tell me why you’re so obsessed with me seeing him?”
Tulip glowered. “No. I don’t want to ruin the surprise.” She grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulder, standing up. “Come on, let’s go. I’m starving.”
Billy grinned and followed her out of the workshop. As they neared the dining hall, the delicious scent of porridge wafted into his nose. He didn’t care if he never got paid another day of his life, as long as they kept serving that delicious porridge for dinner.
“Ugh, stop it. Your porridge boner is showing,” Tulip complained. Billy looked down before he could think better of it, and Tulip cackled.
“You checked!” she yelled, making the group in front of them turn around to see what all the fuss was about.
“I hate you.” Billy hissed, grinning right along with her. They walked into the dining hall and found a pair of empty seats on the end of the fourth table. It was just far enough away from the reindeer handlers that they’d be able to eat in peace.
“Billy!”
Billy turned his head at the sound of the familiar voice. It was Pat, Santa’s assistant.
“I knew it!” Tulip said, looking like they’d just announced that Christmas would come twice this year. Billy ignored her.
“Hey, Pat. What can I do for you?” Billy asked as the elf approached. Pat sat down next to him, looking a little frazzled, grabbing a roll of bread and tearing off a piece with his teeth.
“It’s the new Santa. He wants to see you in his office after dinner,” Pat said as he chewed.
“Why?” Billy hoped he wasn’t in trouble. Pat shrugged.
“He was pissed when you exploded your machine. I think he wants to murder you.”
“What?” Billy frowned. Pat just nodded.
“Yeah. It was super scary. I’m really sorry for you.” Pat took another bite of his roll, not looking sorry in the least.
“He’s not going to murder me,” Billy said, scoffing. Santas weren’t allowed to murder elves. That would be like Krampus handing out gold stars to children—it just wasn’t done.
“Oh shit, you’re right!” Tulip exclaimed, looking genuinely worried. “He’s going to murder him. He has murder face.”
“He has what?” Billy gave his friend a weird look.
“He does,” Pat said, nodding along. “Total murder face. He’s an alpha. I heard he applied to be Krampus, but for some reason the council sent him here. We’re all basically fucked.”
Billy took a second to digest that information. Then he looked at Pat, making sure he had firm eye contact before asking, “Are you seriously trying to convince me that the new Santa is an alpha? And he wanted to be Krampus? Seriously?”
Tulip was going to have to do better than this if she wanted to trick him. Bringing Pat into it was a nice move—he never would have taken the serious elf as a prankster—but the story was just too ridiculous.
“I see it,” Tulip said, like she had a chance in hell of making him believe her.
“That’s so stupid,” Billy complained. He turned to Pat with an exasperated expression.
“Pat, I don’t know how Tulip roped you into this, but I’m not falling for it.
I’m going to sit here and eat my porridge, go home, read my book, and then I’m going to go to bed.
I am not, however, going to walk up to the new Santa’s office and make a fool of myself. Do you understand?”
Pat put down his roll. “I’m not trying to trick you. The new Santa wants to see you after dinner, he has murder face, and he wanted to be Krampus. If I were you, I would not blow him off.”
Billy couldn’t believe Pat thought he would fall for this. Frankly, it was a little bit insulting.
“Nope! Not falling for it!” he said, shuffling porridge into his mouth at a breakneck pace. When his bowl was empty, he rose to his feet.
“You two can find another sucker to con into making an idiot of himself. Like Larry. Good night.”
“Billy, I’m seriously not trying to—"
“Ha! Not falling for it!” Billy interrupted, backing away from the table and wagging his finger.
Pat gave him a considering look, shrugged, and then went back to eating.
Tulip looked like she wanted to say something, but they both knew that she’d cried wolf way too many times to make anything she said believable.
Billy grinned, pleased that he hadn’t let Tulip trick him.
He made his way outside and walked down the path leading to his cottage.
It was a nice night, the stars sparkling bright overhead, and the air was crisp and cold.
Freshly fallen snow crunched under his pointy shoes as he walked, the sound making Billy smile.
His cottage was warm and toasty, and after changing into his comfiest set of pajamas he made himself a cup of hot cocoa and settled down in the chair by the fire to read.
A nice, quiet night with a good book was exactly what he needed to take his mind off the day’s temporary setback. The idea behind his machine was good—he was sure of it—and with a few tweaks it would work.
This time next year it would be up and running. No doubt about it.
Nick examined himself in the mirror and grinned. Turning around and looking over his shoulder, checking out his back and ass, his grin widened.
He looked good.
At first he’d been pissed when he found out that he’d have to wear the red Santa suit every single day of the year, but then he’d realized that he was allowed to customize the outfit. He’d gone from being pissed to being excited.
Reading the rules carefully to make sure he’d understood them correctly, not wanting the council to come down on his ass, Nick had gone straight to work. He was pretty fucking pleased with the results of his labor.
The last Santa’s baggy old pants and extra large coat were out, thrown in the trash where they belonged, and replaced with a crimson bodysuit that left nothing to the imagination.
Running his hand down his chest, the silky material stretched tight over his massive pecs, Nick tweaked his nipple and shuddered in pleasure. His cock hardened against his thigh.
Nick had paired the crimson suit with a pair of knee-high leather boots, a black utility belt, and leather gloves. The only thing he’d kept from the old outfit was the hat.
The overall effect was impressive. Nick was a big guy, and the bodysuit did a good job of highlighting that, while the knee-high boots and leather gloves added an intimidation factor to his look that Nick loved.
Turning around and flexing for the mirror, licking his lips as he brought his arms together to flex his chest, Nick reflected on how much he’d improved the uniform.
Running his gloved hands down his abs and over the mound of his cock, Nick spent a good ten minutes groping himself and feeling up his muscles. His knot throbbed in pleasure, his balls full and heavy, and Nick had no problem giving in to temptation and jerking himself off through the suit.
He squeezed his bulge with the palm of his gloved hand, his cock twitching and throbbing in pleasure.
Right before he was ready to shoot his load, Nick stopped jerking himself off. He wasn’t going to waste an orgasm on self-pleasure. The next time he came, it would be inside one of the dainty little elves.
Just the thought of holding one of the lithe little creatures down and making them submit had Nick’s whole body shuddering in pleasure.
Turning around, flexing and posing some more, Nick grinned at the specimen of manhood he saw reflected in the mirror. His cock and balls were on full display, tucked down against his right thigh, and he couldn’t wait to see the looks on the elves’ faces when they saw him.
He adjusted his package, making sure he was showing off his goods to their best advantage, and studied his reflection with an eye toward anything that needed fixing.
There was nothing.
Looking perfect—with just the right combination of intimidating and sexy—Nick walked into his newly created punishment room.
He’d decorated all his quarters in dark woods, leather accents and dramatic shades of crimson, but the punishment room was where it all came together.
Floors so dark they were almost blacked gleamed under the low lighting, and polished leather and steel implements lined the walls.
The floor was artfully dotted with various pieces of bondage furniture, each piece more impressive than the last, and Nick couldn’t wait to put it all to use.
He just hoped that it wouldn’t all go to waste.
Nick had no idea what the elves in Santa’s castle were like. The elves who served Krampus in his mountain were notorious for their enjoyment of pain and their proclivity for kinky play, but the ones in Santa’s castle had no such reputation.