Head Elf Santa Clause Novels & Stories

Even though I’m wearing a facade of adultlike indifference, I can’t help but feel a sense of childlike excitement building up inside of me as we inch closer to Santa’s chair. Finally, it’s our turn, and we step up to Santa Claus, who greets us with a hearty laugh. “Ho, ho, ho! Well, look who we have here. It’s Alpha Karl and…?” Santa’s eyes fall on me, and he gives me a quizzical look. “This is my elf,” Karl says, eliciting a punch in the arm from me. He smirks and rubs the spot where I punched him before he turns back to the man playing as Santa. “Jane the Elf.”

“I’m late. I should get going. I still have gifts to deliver to a lot of children before sunrise.” "You're just trying to avoid what I said, aren’t you?" "No, no," he protests, his voice higher now. "I’m not avoiding it. Why would I? I’m just on a tight schedule.” I move closer to him, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps. I reach up, letting my finger trail along his white beard. It’s surprisingly soft, softer than I expected, softer than it looks. "Dear Santa," I murmur, "there’s no need to feel ashamed."

Curious? All right, if you promise to keep my secret I’ll tell you…here goes: I want to be fucked by Santa. Oh, c’mon, you know deep down you want it, too. I mean, he’s a guy who always knows what you want, his big bulky body has to be fairly strong to handle all those reindeer and he drives a freakin’ magic sleigh! That’s hawt, if you ask me. And those white whiskers and long, flowing beard…I shudder just to think of those whiskers tickling me in soft and pink places.

Official 4 interjected, glancing between them. "I think I can help with that." They heard a new voice say and from the shadows, appeared a lanky male Elf holding a red and white fox along with a female human with a pixie cut and big male human with a scar on his face.

"A-A-Antonio," Andrea stuttered, looking like the blood had drained out of her face, as though she was seeing a ghost. The little boy stared with admiration at the man before him and shouted alarmingly, "Santa's in Town!" He wiggled his little body out of her arms and offered to carry the hats in. Antonio chuckled and insisted that he'd do that himself but placed one on the little guy's head. John thanked him and rushed back in excitedly.

Help. Hey everyone, I need help. Two days ago, my five-year-old sister said she saw Santa Claus in our house, but her description doesn't match the traditional image at all. She said this "Santa" had long, spider-like fingers, too many joints, crawled like a four-legged animal, and after climbing out of our chimney, it just stood silently in the corner of our living room, watching us for an hour. Most importantly, when I asked if this "Santa" had a gift sack, she said no. Just a lumpy, wrinkled, moving sack on its back.

“But I think Santa is coming back from his break now.” “Wanna go meet Santa?” I ask her, and she claps her hands, giggling with delight, even though she doesn’t quite grasp the concept yet. As we approach, there he is… our local celebrity, movie star, and superhero… and my adoring husband. You wouldn’t recognize him if you didn’t know, with his Santa suit and fluffy white beard. He even sports a fake belly under the jacket, but despite that, he remains the most handsome Santa I’ve ever seen. Fortunately, the kids don’t notice; they only see Santa.

“ That's right. You did your part and even more, as you always do in your work. It was the law that failed that family, not you. Now focus on your beautiful family. God has benefited you with this wonderful gift.” Santa said this looking at Clara who was devouring a guava doughnut. Kelly hugged her, showing how happy she was with the gift she had been given. “ My boys went fishing and won't be back until tomorrow night, so my little princess and I came to do the girls' hair here.” Said Kelly with a wide smile and Santa clapped his hands together, happy. “ So let's all go outside. I don't want any hair falling in my kitchen, okay?”

Jenna and Oliver dozed off together, her head on his chest, his hand absentmindedly stroking her arm. The room felt like safety. Home. At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep, tucked against Blaise’s heartbeat, Storm tucked against mine — because the next thing I heard was Beth whispering loudly: “Just come in — they’re all out.” Blaise shifted, blinking awake. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. And then— Santa stepped into our den. Full suit. Boots. The big red bag slung over his shoulder. Behind him, in a green velvet dress and holly in her hair, stood Mrs. Claus.

The letter was well written with graceful handwriting. None of her friends wrote that way at their age. She opened the letter and whispered the words to herself as she read it out loud Dear Year, No human shall spend their christmas eve crying alone on a park bench. When you feel lonely play this violin, for the sound will fill your heart with hope. And you, my dear Nebu, are the last person who should spend christmas alone. From: Secret santa. She figures it wouldn't be anyone she knew, because why would they give her a violin.