Mrs Santa Blow Mold Novels & Stories

By the time Yves Golding got home, it was already midnight. I was lying in bed, staring at a photo of him and Melissa Lane. His abs showed faintly beneath his red Santa suit as she leaned against them, eyes shyly closed. Their colleagues had left comments below the post, saying that they were a perfect match and that Yves was quite bold. Melissa commented, "You guys, stop making things up. Mr. Golding was just being kind by keeping a lonely soul like me company for Christmas!"

“Then you’re gonna take exactly what you asked for, you filthy little Mrs. Claus.” I spread my legs wide without being told, the tiny red skirt riding up to my waist, exposing my bare pussy completely. I was already soaked—had been since I put the outfit on—and my clit throbbed visibly under his gaze. My nipples poked hard through the cutouts, begging for attention. Mark looped the Santa belt around my throat like a makeshift collar, buckling it just tight enough that I felt the pressure with every breath. He tugged on it lightly, forcing my head up so I had to meet his eyes.

And a warm wave of happiness. Elijah tucked the picture beneath the book and stood, heading into the kitchen. Meghan and Starlight were in pajamas, sliding around the kitchen floor in fuzzy socks. Starlight’s kitten-covered white thermal pajamas and her ponytail had him shaking his head. She looked gorgeous, swinging a large wooden spoon around as she belted out Mariah Carey’s ‘Oh, Santa!’ at the top of her lungs. Meghan joined in, adding sprinkles to some of the stacks and stacks of cookies that covered the kitchen countertops. Among the tubes of icing and bottles of sprinkles, a gigantic gingerbread house was being built.

He had important work to do, work she wouldn’t understand or approve of--and she was quite discerning. Eustacia Cane was quite tall and slender--for an elf. She had long ago retired from her position in Santa’s Workshop where she tarried for centuries making the finest toys, dolls in fact being her specialty. She had long brown hair which she always wore in two thick braids down her shoulders. No longer required to wear the uniform of one of Santa’s elves, she now chose to wear dresses most days, and today she was dressed in a bright shade of purple. The long-sleeved velvet gown covered her completely, even trailing the floor a bit around her black, pointy shoes. She sat in Corey’s favorite

Snow hissed against the windows. He was already inside. Leaning against the marble island like he owned the place. This Santa is leaner than the first, all wiry muscle and long limbs, black satin half-mask, crimson velvet coat hanging open over bare, sculpted chest. A thin line of dark hair ran from his navel straight into low-slung black pants. A single red ribbon was tied around the base of his very obvious, very hard cock, the bow resting against his hip like a gift tag. He crooked a finger. “Come here, Noelle.”

Elijah’s eyes widen just slightly, a flicker of something crossing his face before he quickly masks it. The old woman stares at me, her mouth slightly open. “What nonsense are you spouting?” "You heard me." I cross my arms, my gaze sweeping over the stunned crowd. I let the silence stretch before driving my point home. "Your mysterious ‘Santa’—the one who’s been providing for you all these years—is the very same Alpha you’re trying to cast out." A collective gasp ripples through the people. Shock. Disbelief. Their heads turn toward Elijah, eyes narrowing, some darting between him and the statue of Santa Claus, as if suddenly seeing the resemblance.

"So, let's see yours, Richard." Charlotte has found some excuse to turn away and is busy fussing over Cara. Nonetheless, her eyes flick to where Richard opens his gift. Santa looks out from a frame of holly leaves. His nose is as shiny as Rudolph's, and again, is a sewn-on extra. Ryan sits beside me, his hand partly concealing his face. "They look very well made." He casts eyes over the base of the tree. "How many more are there like that?" Michael looks glum, holding another parcel. "Just the one..." Mitch frowns... Then he brightens. "Oh, no. Two. Here..." He grins as he passes a package wrapped in snowman paper to Larry.

The last thing she wanted was to make a scene and ruin the image of Santa for them. “Where’s Marcos?” Santa asked, reaching into a bag. He pulled out a bright shiny red sled, handing it to her bright-eyed student. “Where’s Anna?” Santa asked, looking around. Again, another one of Holly’s students. “Here, Santa,” said the small girl, looking up hopefully. He handed her a giant bin of Legos and the poor girl looked like she was about to pass out. “Oh, Santa,” she cried. “How did you know? This is exactly what I wanted!”

Santa Claus ordered and my legs wobbled as a shiver ran down my spine. He took off his suit, leaving just his mask and cap on, as he walked towards the chair he had been sitting on earlier. I unzipped my gown hurriedly, watching as he brought out a whip, sex toys like a dildo, bon wa balls, a vibrator, nipple clamps, sex oil, and so on. I shivered from anticipation, pulling my panties down my legs, allowing my wetness to slide down between my thighs to the floor. I was really dripping for Santa Claus who had now walked closer to me with some items.

He let out a startled eep. “Motherfucker!” I shouted, running for the Santa-eating zombies. “What the fuck!” I swung my machete hard, turning one zombie into two bite-sized pieces, but I was too damn late. The other bit into the side of the Santa’s leg, ripping a giant hole out of it. The hiss of escaping air and the zombie’s moans blended together, and the Santa dented, tilted, and deflated, his face morphing from a Christmas grin into a weird, distorted grimace.