8 Ft Inflatable Santa Claus Novels & Stories

Is his simple reply. I raise my head to glare at me, but the height difference puts me at a great disadvantage. Santino is a very tall man, standing at 6'5. He pushes me away from him with a very disgusted look on his face like he touched the most filthy thing in his life. This is the most expression he has ever shown me. “ The next time you try something like that, I won't be so forgiving.”

He was tall, six foot four at least, broad, with a black velvet Santa mask trimmed in white fur, open red velvet coat revealing miles of inked muscle and a trail of dark hair disappearing into loose black pants. A red sack hung over one shoulder. He wore no shirt underneath the coat. Just abs carved like sin and a bulge so thick it made my mouth water. He stepped inside, kicked the door shut with a booted heel, and dropped to his knees right there on the marble. “Been a very good girl this year,” he rasped, voice gravel and smoke. “Santa’s got a special delivery.” “On your knees, little girl,” he said, voice low, rough, pure smoke. “Santa’s been watching you all year.”

They were maybe 10-12 feet tall and apparently heavier than I thought. And what do we have for Christmas? A freaking man-sized Santa Claus with his slide and all the nine reindeers. I'm telling you, he goes too extra with the decorations. He has money, he can allow himself to go this far with the decor, that's what he says when I ask him why. It's actually heartwarming to see this big man being so enthusiastic and giggling like a kid. And I know in such moments he is the real Viktor I have the luck to know. In such moments of pure freedom and joy.

We’d gone all out, or at least to the extent we could on short notice. There were horse-drawn sleigh rides with carriages for two to a dozen passengers. We had ice skating, a sledding area, ice carving, photo ops with different holiday-themed characters, and a snowman building contest. We also had indoor activities like gingerbread building, letters to Santa, other holiday crafts, and a storytime area. And of course, we had a spot set up special for Santa and Mrs. Klaus for kids to meet and get pictures with. Tanner was happy to put on a fake belly and beard to be Santa. Zelma was less thrilled at dawning the gray wig but did it for the kids. It’s incredible what she’s willing to do to make

Then she leaned in and stage whispered, "Don't play her for money. You'll lose your shirt." Kiki laughed. "Oh, I believe that!" "Check," Abby announced again, her voice matter of fact, concentrating hard on the game. "Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" a voice resonated throughout the house. Kiki looked over and Santa Claus himself filled the doorway, dressed in a red suit, sporting a natural white beard, and carrying a sack filled with toys. Smiling executives dressed in business suits--both men and women--from The North Pole Lodge, were with him, carrying packages wrapped in brightly colored paper.

I'd rather not inform her yet of my residence amongst a family tied to the Mafia or what terrible doom may await me if I choose to leave the manor after I turned 19. My bleak self-assessment disrupts as soon as the Christmas melodies halt on the stereo overhead. The children and I exchange glances of confusion. Instead, we hear the distinct sounds of jingles somewhere. Suddenly, the manor's main entrance doors open apart. In trot, a dozen reindeers tugging a sled. Someone clad as Santa, perches upon the sled, leaning back against a massive velvety sack overflowing with gifts. A few people in elves' costumes trail in after, closing the doors behind them to keep the outdoor warmth from enterin

Krampus. Holy fuck, he was enormous. He towered over me, easily eight feet tall, his body a terrifying mass of rippling muscles covered in coarse, black fur that looked like it could scratch skin raw. Massive, curved horns spiraled from his forehead, sharp enough to impale, and his eyes burned red like embers in a forge.

This must be a little surprise prepared for me by Nancy and the others. I waved at Santa Claus. Santa walked in, a large red sack slung over his shoulder, taking slow, deliberate steps toward me. As he drew nearer, I realized Santa was actually quite tall. It must be a man. None of the gardeners or drivers around the villa were that tall. Nancy and Lily were cautious—they wouldn’t hire a stranger at the last minute to play Santa Claus. Could it be Michael? I frowned, scrutinizing the man in the Santa costume. By height alone, he did resemble Michael.