by Sam Cheever
Pleasure bloomed warmly in my chest. “Thanks, Santa.” I glanced at my watch. It was well after Midnight. “But I’m afraid it’s a little late.”
Santa’s smile widened. “Ah, but you forget who you’re dealing with.” Santa wiggled his fat fingers and the room beyond us became a party, filled with all the things I loved most about the season, bright lights, lots of pine-scented garland swags, and a sparkling tree with bunches of brightly colored packages underneath. All of my friends and family sat or stood around a fiercely crackling fire, drinking champagne and nibbling on goodies.
They didn’t appear to know that Santa and I were there.
I sat back on the divan, sighing at the sight. It was beautiful and made a warm spot in my heart.
“I thought you might like to join the party for a while.” Santa’s small, black eyes sparkled merrily, as if he had a wonderful secret he could barely contain.
I watched the scene for a while, just enjoying it. And then finally, shook my head. “No. Thanks anyway, Santa. I don’t need a party this year. I’m feeling pretty good already.”
Santa cocked his head and the sparkle in his eyes increased. “It was a really fine thing you did tonight, Astra Q Phelps. Those greens will be a wonderful addition on Olympus, and they will live long, happy, and prosperous lives.”
“Yeah.” The warm spot in my heart expanded. “It was, wasn’t it.” I glanced at Santa. “Thank you.”
He looked surprised. “For what?”
“For forcing me to come outside myself and do the right thing. I apparently needed a reminder of what the season means. I owe ya big time for that.”
Santa stared at me for a long moment and then nodded. “Then, you’re welcome. But the impetus was entirely self-imposed.”
Remembering the mysterious sound of bells as Glynus and I had been flying aimlessly around Hell, I doubted it.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your evening then.” Santa winked at me and then popped away, taking my potential party with him.
I expected to be saddened by the loss, but thinking of Dialle’s imminent return, I couldn’t dredge up any sadness. I headed toward Dialle’s personal hygiene room and stripped, calling for hot and soapy water from the cleansing tube.
Stepping under the foamy heat, I sighed, enjoying the soothing feel of the soapy water massaging my aches and pains. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall of the tube, my thoughts moving from the events of the night so far...to the events still to come.
Right on cue, the air changed and the tube got warmer, and harder, as Dialle stepped into me, wrapping me in a needy embrace.
My eyes popped open and found his, which swirled with the warm colors of passion. “Hello, my love.”
Water streamed over his midnight black hair and down his golden chest. His sexy, biteable lower lip held a single drop of water in its center. I leaned close and flicked my tongue over the bead, pulling it into my mouth.
It tasted of Dialle, hot and spicy and filled with possibilities. “Hey, yourself.”
He stepped closer, pressing certain parts of his yummy self against me and causing noticeable changes in my special and happy places. I lifted a leg and wrapped it around his calves, enjoying the way his happy place fit into my hungry body.
Dialle lowered that incredible mouth toward mine. His sweet breath bathed my face in moist heat. “I have a Christmas present for you, Astra.”
My laugh was husky with need. My hands found the backs of his hard thighs and slid upward, over a truly remarkable set of buns and higher, to settle on his hips. I tugged gently, pulling him closer and gasping as sensation exploded over me. “I think I know what it is.”
Dialle’s head lowered and he settled a whisper-soft kiss on my parted lips. His tongue slid inside to dance against mine. Heat built quickly between us, until the drops from the cleansing tube sizzled against our skin.
With a thought Dialle blipped us out of the tube and into his massive, silk-covered bed. He landed on top of me, pressing me delightfully into the sheets.
I moaned at the delicious pressure of his body on mine . He nipped at my lips, my nose, my chin, and then settled his lips over the daemon hickey on my neck. Passion flared even brighter between us. Flames flickered around the bed, creating a multi-hued counterpoint to the soft sounds of sensual exploration.
As Dialle kissed his way down my body, stopping along the way to worship all my favorite places, my thoughts strayed, only briefly, to Satan. I envisioned his angry impotence in the Hell of his own making and smiled.
Realizing that Dialle’s presence in that bed had just increased the score by one point. I had love, passion, and happiness. Satan had nothing. I almost felt sorry for him.
Blink, blink...
Nah, he’d deserved to go down and I was keeping score.
It was now Astra Q Phelps 2, Satan 0.
It was the best Christmas present Dialle could have given me.
Dialle’s lips found the quivering skin of my belly and settled a warm, enticing kiss there.
I shuddered with delight as he continued his journey downward, toward the promised land.
Well...almost the best present.
The best was obviously yet to come.
THE END
Christmas Short #3
THE YEAR THE GRINCH STOLE SANTA
In this short Christmas story, Astra is determined to take Christmas off so she’s been ignoring the nearly constant calls from the North Pole to help them find Santa, who’s disappeared just days before Christmas.
But when a flash mob of elves show up and whisk her away to the North Pole, fresh from the shower and all nakies, what’s a halfling to do?
Looks like Astra will be working again on Christmas after all.
!
CHAPTER 1
Peace on Earth and Goodwill toward Men...Bleurgh!
In my world, nobody’s peaceful.
Nobody.
In Heaven, the Big Guy’s fighting to come to some kind of agreement with the Union of Guardian Angels and he’s worried about a major strike that will leave everybody on Earth unprotected. On Earth, violence has spiked and people are going crazy over taxes and a truly stinky economy, as well as a food shortage. And at the North Pole, there have been rumors of Elf unrest and Santa has gone missing.
It’s been all I could do to keep myself in the holiday spirit. With that goal in mind, I was currently ignoring multiple calls a day from the North Pole.
Ignoring? You ask in disbelief. Ignoring Santa!?
Yes.
I’m ignoring Santa.
Or rather, his elves. The little rodents have been calling me every five minutes and I’ve been doing my best to avoid those calls. Why? you ask. because I’m sick and frunkin’ tired of having to work every Christmas.
Just for once I’d like to spend the week before Christmas shopping for gifts, attending holiday parties, and baking cookies like everybody else.
I saw that face. You don’t think I can bake cookies do you? Huh? Okay. You’re right. But I can frunkin’ eat ’em can’t I?
Sigh. If I get the chance.
My televisual bleeped again and I grabbed the pillow next to me and covered my face with it. Cursing like a green Martian policeman, I climbed out of bed and headed for the personal hygiene room, intending to drown my sorrows in blissfully hot soapy water.
A few minutes later, I was soaking wet and happily soapy when the lights in the room flickered and I sensed movement. I squinted one eye open, cognizant of the soap running down my face, and started to pull my power forward.
Something light and shimmery landed on my head and my power froze on my fingertips. My eyes opened wide and I immediately regretted it as soap ran into them in a stinging stream.
“Frunk!” I lifted a hand and scraped it over my face and then glared down at my diminutive attackers, my eyes trying their best to close under the sting.
A familiar face glared back at me.
“Ralphy!”
He was dressed in green tights and a green tunic and wearing a red pointed hat, a wide red belt, and red shoes with curling toes.
As usual, he looked ridiculous.
Behind him ranged several more vertically challenged rodents wearing stupid outfits to match Ralphy’s. They all had ridiculously rosy cheeks too, but their expressions were less jolly.
In fact they mostly looked royally pissed.
Ralphy looked down his pug nose at me. It didn’t take him long since it was only about an inch long. “Astra Q Phelps. I came to tell you that, this year, you’re so naughty you don’t even rate coal. This year all you’re gonna get from the North Pole is hostility.”
I sighed. “Look. I’m sorry about the big red guy. I really am. But isn’t there somebody else who can save him? Why does everybody always come to me first? I’m tired, Ralphy. So tired.” I gave the elf my best ‘hang dog’ look but he just laughed, his beady black eyes sparking with mirth.
“Nice try, Phelps. You’re coming with us whether you want to or not. Santa’s been kidnapped and we need you to find him before Christmas is ruined for everybody.”
He took a step toward me and I looked down at myself for the first time. Aside from the magic snuffing web he’d thrown over me, I was nakies.
And the web was transparent.
I covered my important parts with my hands and arms and glared at the elf. He was standing so close to me that the felt ball on his stupid hat drooped in the humidity from my cleansing tube and tickled my belly through the thin web. “Step back, elf. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He laughed again. “Come on, boys. Let’s get this naughty girl to the North Pole.”
The elves surged forward, their fat, stumpy fingers reaching for me, and I just barely swallowed a scream.
It wouldn’t be manly to shriek over the touch of a bunch of vertically challenged rodents.
The air shimmered and, before I could even squeal, I was being spaceshift-napped.
Again.
When sound and movement returned I was standing in the center of a massive room filled with toys and gifts in various stages of completion. The walls were covered in glittery snowflakes, interspersed with bright red ornaments that hung from gold beads, arrayed across all four walls. Bright, silver garland draped from the corners of the ceiling and met in the middle at a giant, spinning disco ball. The ball sent vibrant colors pulsing around the room like a tattoo parlor sign. An enormous Christmas tree, flashing with tiny lights and nearly drooping under an avalanche of fake snow and ornaments, stood watch over hundreds of brightly wrapped packages.
A large sign hung on the nearest wall. It read, “Elves of the North Pole, Unite!”
The room smelled like an odd combination of sawdust and sugar cookies.
My senses went on overload as soon as we landed.
General tittering ensued and I remembered I was nakies. Doing the arm and hand cover thing again, I glared at Ralphy. “You could at least have let me get dressed.”
“Then we wouldn’t have had something to dream about for the rest of our days,” offered a slightly tinny, male voice.
I turned to look at the face of an elf who was ambling toward us holding a clipboard. His wide face was gristly with a sparse brown beard and his nose was bright red, upturned like his shoes. He’d eschewed the drooping, conical hat and wore a Hooters – North Pole baseball cap instead.
Classy.
Ralphy rolled his eyes. “Back off, Bob! Astra’s not some Hooter’s waitress, here to entertain you. She’s gonna help us find Santa.”
I glared down at the horny, short guy. “Bob, if you don’t turn those beady blacks in a different direction in about three seconds you’re gonna be eating that nasty hat.”
Bob’s eyebrows did a tacky little dance. “Bring it, baby. I think I can take you.”
I did a slow perusal of his three foot something form and lifted an eyebrow of my own. “The only way you’re gonna ‘take’ me is if I’m already dead.”
Bob shrugged. “If that’s the way it’s gotta be.”
A chorus of disgusted sounds lifted around us.
The scent of vanilla and sugar was suddenly infused with flowers and I felt a small, warm hand on my arm. I looked down into the rosy face of a pretty female elf. “Come on, honey. I’ll get you some clothes. I think Mx. Claus might have something to fit you.”
Having seen a recent picture of Mx. Claus I barely held back a snort. I’m sure, to the vertically challenged all us “bigs” looked the same. But I swore to myself that, if Mx Claus’s clothes fit me I was swearing off food for a month.
Never-the-less, preferring any clothing at that point to none, I hurried after the tiny female elf, whose name I later learned was Bell.
Anything to get away from Elf Bob’s leering face.
~SC~
A half hour later I stood in Santa’s office, trying to cling to the last shred of my dignity as I searched the room for an errant magic signature. Given the fact that I was swimming in one of Mama Claus’ bright red shirts with a fake white fur collar, and stuffed into a pair of Bell’s ‘fat’ pants, clinging to dignity was a tall order.
The pants were so tight at the hips they gave me muffin top, and they belled out at the bottoms. Since the bottoms only reached my knees, they looked truly ridiculous. Mx. Claus’ shirt was longer than the pants if I didn’t keep tugging it north, and the overlong sleeves were a series of puffs that ended in more fur.
I had caterpillar arms.
But the worst thing was the giant panties I’d had to borrow from Mx. Claus. They used more material than a dirigible and were bunched into the over-tight ‘belled at the knee’ trousers, giving me odd bumps in strange places.
At least the material billowing over the waistband partially obscured my muffin top.
I had just located a vaguely familiar tinge of magic when my mental drawers shuffled and a sexy, deep voice intruded on my work.
Astra? Where are you?
Dialle, my scrumptious and eminently devilish love had been slightly aloof since the recent, and by some accounts unfortunate, marking incident. In a moment of supreme passion I’d inadvertently given him a daemon hickey. Until I’d done the impossible, females on the devil’s court had been unable to mark their male mates.
Only the males could mark.
When I’d marked Dialle I’d forged new territory and shaken things up pretty good.
The males on the Royal Court were supremely pissed. Most of them wanted me dead.
The females were naturally curious. They’d taken to fixing me with speculative gazes that made me almost more nervous than the hatred from their men. I was afraid they’d ask me how I’d done it.
I had no clue.
Such was the weird science of my life.
But strained though our relationship was, Dialle needed to keep me happy because, as his queen, the health of the Devil Court rested on my happiness.
Frunkin’ ice, eh?
Hey! Believe it or not I’m at the North Pole.
He snorted a laugh in my mind. Petitioning Santa for something other than your usual lump of coal?
I frowned, not amused by the coal thing. I mean, how many times did I have to save the world before it earned me a check in the elves’ “Nice” column? Besides, I wouldn’t give Ralphy the pleasure of begging. No, I was dragged here by a flash mob of elves to find Santa.
He’s missing?
Kidnapped, according to the flash mob.
Your life is never boring is it, my love?
You think?
Well, at least it’s better than last year.
I had to agree with him there. Last year I’d been stuck in Hell. Even covered in glitter and cookie dust, Santa’s workshop was slightly less horrible than the fiery pits.
Well, don’t let those elves get you down. I for one hope you retain a permanent spot in the ‘naughty’ column.
His voice was filled with special meaning and its husky promise sent warmth an
d other things spiraling through my lower belly. I grinned, enjoying the mischievous tone of his comment. Hold that thought, bud. And along with it, hold the knowledge that I’m wearing giant panties.
He gasped. Be still my libido. Seriously? Describe them to me.
My lip curled. I don’t know, they’re light pink...
He sucked air.
...there’s enough fabric here to clothe the entire Royal Court, and they have lace around the legs.
Sexy. I’m picturing you swimming around in them and, I’ll be honest, I find myself wishing you were here with me now so I could show you how very much I enjoy the visual.
I laughed. You’re one sick puppy, Dialle.
Woof!
The sound of his voice had my own libido rearing its randy head and blinking rapidly. I’d be glad to finish my current nightmare assignment and get back to him. I’ll be back soon.
Keep warm, my love.
I returned my attention to the aura I was sensing in Santa’s office. It seemed to be strongest around the ever-present, live Christmas tree towering in the corner. As I reached my hand toward the soft, green needles, I felt a tingling sort of power emanating from them.
It was something I’d only felt once before.
The door behind me opened and Mx. Claus squished through, bearing a large tray filled with cookies and a glass of milk that was bigger than my head. “Hello, dear! I’m so glad you came to visit.”
Her smile was wide and her small, brown eyes sparkled with mirth. I wondered at her jolly demeanor given that her spouse was missing. “Hello, Mx. Claus. I’m glad I could help.” I watched her settle the tray onto Santa’s desk. “Maybe you can help me. I was wondering if you could give me some details about Santa’s disappearance?”
The rotund woman turned to me, her dark eyes still sparkling. Each soft cheek was rouged in red, though I suspected it was natural rather than cosmetic. She shook her head. Her curly, brown hair was touched with gray. “He’s just gone off planet for a while, dear. I told Ralphy that, but he’s a black sled type of elf, Ralphy is. He sees conspiracy in everything.”