Subject: Christmas story: Rudolph's Keepers <M?/F?M?, n/c, some sexual
content>
From: UVGQ96A@prodigy.com (Mr.
Kent L. Stoneking)
Date: 7 Dec 1996 05:25:50 GMT
I got into the "Christmas Spirit" early this year and came up with the following. If anyone ever wondered who could take the magic of Christmas and turn it into something sick and twisted, now you know.
What follows is a work of fantasy, (as will hopefully be obvious from the first paragraph). It is intended for an adult audience that enjoys stories about spanking. Read further at your own risk.
Storm winds raged and howled outside the complex at the North Pole. Inside, Santa sat huddled with his chief weather elf, Retsacerof, going over the latest weather forecasts.
"Hmmm, doesn't look good," Santa mused. "Blizzards over most of North America, and heavy fog nearly everywhere else. We're definitely going to need Rudolph at his best tonight." Dismissing the weather elf, Santa summoned Namerof, the foreman elf.
"Namerof, we're looking at the worst weather pattern I've seen in years. I'll need Rudolph at the head of the team. I trust you have your best team making sure he's ready?"
"Ah, yes, Santa," replied the elf, not meeting his chief's eyes. Santa noticed his hesitation.
"Namerof ... exactly who is working on Rudolph this year?"
The elf muttered something under his breath.
"Speak up. I can't hear you."
Namerof took a deep breath, then looked Santa straight in the eye before replying. "Pufoog and Ohpmyn."
"Pufoog and Ohpmyn!" Santa roared. "Have you gone mad! Putting a pair like that in charge of the most important project of the year? Have you forgotten the sugarplum incident?"
"Santa," Namerof soothed, "remember, we talked about them after the sugarplum incident? You agreed to give them one more chance. You even suggested that a job with some real responsibility might be just what they needed. And what could be a more responsible job than caring for Rudolph?"
"Well ... all right," grumphed Santa, not pleased by this reminder. "But they'd better not mess up this time!"
"Oh, I'm sure they won't," responded the elf. "Remember what you said you'd do if they displeased you again," slapping his palm against his thigh for emphasis.
Santa nodded grimly, his usual jolly smile still absent.
Pufoog pushed open the stable door and scampered inside, Ohpmyn right behind him. He slammed the door shut, barring it hastily against the winter winds. Ohpmyn glanced quickly around the stable interior, her bright blue eyes taking in every detail. "So, this is the legendary Rudolph," she intoned, stepping towards the reindeer curled up in the straw. He raised his head and returned her gaze, his nose twinkling bright red in the dim light.
"Yes," Pufoog answered, stripping off his coat, "and we've got to make sure he's ready to go tonight, so let's get right to work." He took a step toward the reindeer, brought up short when Ohpmyn pressed herself against him.
"What's the rush, Pufie?" she inquired, rubbing her hands over his chest and gazing deep into his eyes (with that look on her face, he noted with disgust). "There's plenty of time yet. We can do a little .. you know ..." she added seductively, nodding towards as vacant, straw-filled stall.
Reluctantly, Pufoog took her hands in his, forcing them down and away. "Not now, Ohpmyn! This is a very important job! Santa and all the other elves are counting on us, so let's stay focused! On the job," he added, as Ohpmyn's expression took on its usual mischievous cast. The female elf pouted, but took a step backwards.
"We'll start out by checking the hooves," Pufoog stated as he stepped over to Rudolph and tapped the reindeer on the right foreleg. Rudolph obediently lifted his leg up. As Pufoog bent over to inspect the hoof, Ohpmyn reached out and pinched his backside through his tights.
"YEOW!" squealed Pufoog, stumbling against Rudolph, who fortunately kept his footing. "Ohpmyn, please! Keep your hands to yourself!"
"But, Pufie," she replied, "you've got such a cute hiney, I couldn't help myself."
"Seems that's exactly what you did!" Exasperated, he turned back to the reindeer. "The hooves are okay, I guess. Now it's time for a rubdown." "OHHH, PUFIEEE!" Ohpmyn squealed, clasping her hands in anticipation.
Pufoog slapped a hand over his eyes. "For Rudolph!"
"Oh." Disappointed, the she-elf watched Pufoog select a brush. "Here, stand behind me and see how it's done," he invited. Ohpmyn watched as Pufoog started brushing Rudolph with long, full strokes. After a moment, she moved up right behind him, her hot breath falling on the back of his neck.
Pufoog felt an uncomfortable stirring deep within him. "Uh, not quite so close," he requested.
"But, Pufie," she said softly, breathing now in his ear, "I just wanta get a good look ..."
"I'm sure you can see fine from back there -- " Pufoog started, but by then she was nibbling the tip of one pointy ear. She knew what that did to him! Swallowing heavily, he said, weakly, "Ohpmyn, please, stop ..."
"Do you really want me to stop?" Ohpmyn responded in her most seductive voice. "I don't think you really do." Her soft tongue caressed the very tip of his ear as her hands brushed the front of his tights. "Either you've been in the sugarplums again, or ..." her voice trailed off.
Pufoog knew he was lost. "All right," he said, surrendering to her. "But after that, we've really got to get to work."
"Sure, Pufie, whatever you say," murmured Ohpmyn, leading him towards the empty stall, her hands already fumbling with his tights. Soon, he was equally fumbling with hers. They wrestled together in the straw before both exploded into ecstasy. Afterwards, they fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, not even noticing when the wind blew the ill-secured stable door wide open.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"
The brusque voice jolted Pufoog awake. He sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He first noticed Ohpmyn sitting beside him, looking equally confused. Then, he saw Santa towering over them, his face as red as his suit, hands on his hips. Namerof stood beside him, arms folded, looking equally angry.
"WELL?" Santa demanded. The two scrambled to their feet, brushing the straw from their bodies. Pufoog thought quickly. "Well, Santa, we were tired from working so hard, so we decided to take a little nap," he explained. Ohpmyn nodded her enthusiastic agreement.
"I can see what you were doing. I want to know the meaning of THIS!" Santa responded, pointing to Rudolph's stall. Shuffling slowly, tights around their ankles, Pufoog and Ohpmyn walked to the stall door. Inside, Rudolph's coat was covered by a thick layer of frost. His nose flickered a dim red. Tev, the elves' animal doctor, pressed his stethoscope against the reindeer's chest, listening as Rudolph coughed thickly.
"It's not good, Santa," he said, removing the stethoscope. "His lungs and nasal passages are badly congested."
"Will he be able to guide us tonight?" Santa asked.
Tev frowned. "I doubt it." He addressed the animal: "Rudolph? Can you light your nose? Try, boy, try!"
At the doctor's urging, Rudolph tensed up and closed his eyes, concentrating on his nose. The light flickered brighter for a second, then the reindeer sneezed loudly and his nose went completely dead.
Tev shook his head. "I'm sorry, Santa. He'll need to rest and recover."
"Thank you, doctor. Keep him comfortable," Santa instructed, turning away from the stall.
For the first time, Pufoog and Ohpmyn noticed the chill air in the stable. They bent over to pull up their tights. Santa noticed the activity and said, "Leave those down, you two. You won't be needing them for a while yet."
The elves' blood turned colder at Santa's words. Pufoog remembered his warning after the sugarplum incident. By the expression on Ohpmyn's face, she remembered, too.
Santa turned to Namerof. "Any ideas?" he asked. Namerof shrugged his shoulders. "I've got all our best people working on it, Santa, but we'll need some time to find a solution."
"Good," Santa responded, "It'll give me time to deal with these two." Seating himself on a nearby bale of hay, he beckoned Pufoog and Ohpmyn over to him. They stood with heads down, hands clasped in front of them, bare legs shivering in the cold winter air.
"Santa is very disappointed in you," he lectured, referring to himself in the third person, as always. "He should have let you go after the sugarplum incident. But, Santa gave you another chance, and put you in charge of one of the most important jobs he could. And this is how you repay Santa's trust in you?"
Hoping the question was rhetorical, the elves remained silent. Santa continued, "Well, this time, you've gone too far. Santa's not going to fire anyone on Christmas Eve, but you do need to be punished."
Santa took hold of Ohpmyn by the arm and guided her to his right side, then face-down across his lap. He repeated the process with Pufoog. Santa's lap, built to hold children of all ages and sizes, had no trouble accommodating the two tiny elves.
Pausing to remove his right glove, Santa wrapped his left hand around Pufoog's waist, securing the elves in place, then started in. SMACK! A stout blow to Ohpmyn's left cheek. SMACK! One to her right cheek. SMACK! Pufoog's left cheek. SMACK! His right cheek. SMACK! His right cheek again. SMACK! His left cheek. SMACK! Ohpmyn's right cheek. SMACK! Her left cheek. SMACK! Her left cheek again. And so it went, Santa's hand travelling back and forth across the elves' upturned backsides, visiting each cheek in turn with a stinging blow.
Before long, Pufoog no longer felt the cold air; in fact, he yearned for its soothing taste on his aching rump. He resolved to take his punishment stoically, keeping still and grunting slightly with each swat. Ohpmyn, on the other hand, was kicking, wriggling, and squealing frantically. In fact, he noted uncomfortably, she sounded very much like she had earlier tonight, when they were alone in the stable! (Did she ever stop?) He hoped Santa didn't notice. At least, he thought, Santa's suit was already wet from the snow, so he likely wouldn't notice any additional moisture.
At long last, Santa, exhausted, gave his arm a rest. As he surveyed the expanses of scarlet flesh below him, a idea glimmered into his mind. Yes, he thought, it might just work!
"Namerof! Fetch Rekamnier!" The foreman elf scurried off, returning moments later with the chief elf harnessmaker. Santa whispered his plan in Rekamnier's ear. He looked astounded for a moment, then said, "Yes. I can do it. I'll need about twenty minutes."
Rekamnier and Namerof hurried out of the stable. Pufoog and Ohpmyn, thinking their punishment over, started getting to their feet. Santa stopped their movement with another quick four spanks. "Nobody said you could move! You're not done yet," he informed them. "In fact, your night is just beginning!"
The elves groaned. What else could Santa have in store for them?
Half an hour later, Santa sat in his sleigh, the reins clutched tightly in his hands. His elf crews had just finished loading the last of the toys and hitching up the reindeer -- and rigging Rekamnier's addition in front of the team. It had been a close call, but Christmas was saved for another year.
"On, Dasher! On, Dancer! On, Prancer and Vixen! Now, Comet! Now, Cupid! Now, Donner and Blitzen!" he called, cracking the reins and starting the reindeer on their journey. The sleigh climbed slowly, steadily, into the winter sky.
Any sleepless children looking out the window at just the right moment would have been astounded to see Santa's sleigh, guided not by a reindeer's nose, but by the glow from two freshly spanked elfin behinds. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!
1) In case you haven't guessed by now, the elves' names, read backwards, give a clue to their character.
2) Fans of the old "Calvin and Hobbes" comic strip may remember some references to a "noodle incident". In the Tenth Anniversary book, Bill Watterson explains that the "noodle incident" is best left to the reader's imagination. So is the "sugarplum incident."