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Violet is: Busy

Posts Tagged ‘North Pole’

Christmas Story (the end .. or beginning, you decide)

Later, Violet woke alone. When she sat up for a second she thought she heard the chiming of silver bells from outside and when she glanced at the window she imagined she saw the Santa Claus fly by with his reindeer drawn sleigh. Shaking her head she laughed, “Good lord! That Mr. Santa dude sure was something else to make me think that I’m seeing things!” Still shaking her head and giggling about her childish fantasies she turned around and was just about to snuggle into the warm blanket again when she saw a note on the pillow next to her, “I will be back for my milk and cookie tonight, no need for stockings though. Love Santa”

The cold wind of the North Pole blew roughly into his face when he reigned his reindeers in a cloud of sparkling icy crystals. The workshop lay in darkness and he assumed that all the elves had already retired for the night. With his familiar “Ho, ho, ho” he opened the door to his house. Just as he had expected, the snide remarks from the kitchen didn’t take long, “Oh, look who’s finally come home! Did you get lost again? Well, anyway, did you bring the little slut to be punished? We are running late with this year’s schedule already.”

While he sat down on the bench in the hallway to take off his heavy boots he smiled, the memories of Violet filling his heart with joy. “No, I couldn’t, this girl is so hot, and she would have melted the polar caps in no time. I will have to take care of her punishment on site, personally!” An irritated grunt was all the response he got from the kitchen but actually, he didn’t really care. Santa started to whistle “Jingle Bells” and felt his balls tighten and when he looked through the window, dreamily staring into the dancing snowflakes he felt his cock twitch and he began to hum “Let It Snow”.

Finally, reluctantly, Santa entered the kitchen, feeling slightly irritated as he saw one of the younger elves scurry out of the room blushing when he entered. And he pondered, what was it that he seemed to be hiding behind his back, one of those buzzing plastic candy sticks, while his wife quickly straightened her skirts. He decided to take one of those sticks back to Violet the very next evening in hopes that she would like the thing as much as his wife seemed to like it. Maybe Violet would even tell him what it was meant for …  LOL

Mistress Violet

Christmas Story (part 5)

“Well now, in order to make sure that you know exactly what you would have to do to me, you will need to go through the ordeal yourself, don’t you think? And I will require your full co-operation to make this a worthwhile experience!” Mr. Santa didn’t need a lot of time to think about her suggestion, order? First, her proposal, considering his present position, seemed to make perfect sense to him. And in the solitude of the North Pole, he knew next to nothing about this delightfully kinky lifestyle that had conjured all those envy-driven wishes. Second, if he was completely honest, Mrs. Santa had adopted the arctic climate of the North Pole, becoming cold and more frigid towards his advances for the last couple of decades. Even more recently, Mr. Santa had started to wonder if there was something going on behind the closed workshop doors. He could not understand why Mrs. Santa was so crazy about those battery operated buzzing candy sticks the elves seemed to be barely able to keep in ample supply or why his wife had to personally “quality check” about every tenth piece in a batch. However, the last incentive Mr. Santa needed was the fact that he was being “forced” to make this decision between Violet’s ample bosom, with her erotic feminine scent and the welcoming warmth radiating from the fire (or was it from her hot, gorgeous body?) compared to the freezing icy cold and the stench of the reindeer outside. So it was a split second decision that had him in complete agreement with her assessment!

“What a wise decision.” Violet whispered into his ear, “I will show you what a horrible fate those men had to endure and then you can judge for yourself what you think a suitable punishment would be for a naughty girl like me.”

Once again, Violet gently runs her fingers through white curly tresses and then down his cheek, lightly dragging her fingernails through the curling white tendrils on his chest. “Well, if you truly are Saint Nick, why didn’t you bring me any presents?” Mr. Santa blushes, “Well, no, since you were a bad, naughty girl and I was, no still am, intending to punish you there are no presents for you this year.”

“Oh come now, somehow I have the feeling that you are rather embarrassed to not have a present for me now. I am not that bad after all, am I?” Mr. Santa is only able to nod his head, wondering momentarily, why he is sitting completely naked on a fake fur blanket at the feet of a divine but truly naughty Lady who is caressing his chest and is so deftly making him feel like a loser for not having a present for her. There is that moment that he knows something is going wrong, but, God, it felt so right!

With the tinkle of a “silver bell” laugh, Violet says, “Hhhmmm, so, you didn’t bring me anything. I will allow you to be my present. I am sure you are feeling much better now, right?” Mr. Santa eagerly nods, unsure what his feelings are exactly, but he is simply happy that she seems to be less disappointed now that he had agreed to be her present. “I want my present to look nice, you know, I like to have something to play with, to unwrap. Why don’t you go and get me one of the red bows on the Christmas tree, now!” So, Mr. Santa scampers to his feet to bring a red bow from the tastefully decorated tree. He is just about to resume his place on the blanket in front of her when she stops him, “No, just a moment, hand me the bow and just stand there, right in front of me.” Violet sits up and undoes the ribbon, then looking up from the ribbon in her hands right in front of her face is the twitching half-erect cock of Mr. Santa. She looks up into his disbelieving eyes looking down at her and she seductively licks her blood red lips, reaches out, and affectionately she fondles his balls and gives his cock a few quick pumps to harden it further so that she can then wrap up his now almost fully erect member, tying the ribbon into an elaborate bow once again, the dangling ends tickling his ball sac.

Mr. Santa cannot help himself and he shivers, it would have been such a long time since he had had that sort of attention. He was only very rarely on the “wish list” of the girls nowadays. They always wanted those young, bronzed, chiseled studs and he was a pale, pot-bellied old man. Strange though it seemed, Violet did not even notice or care. Then before he could quite comprehend the situation, a totally new sensation coursed through his loins he looked back down, just in time to see his cock engulfed by Violet’s open mouth. It was brief, barely a nibble between her velvety red lips, no more. He sighed, forgetting EVERYTHING except that sensation on his cock, until she threw back her head and laughed, “Mr. Santa, huh? Good lord, look at you! You are just as naive and gullible as the rest the men that visit me! Just a slight tease, the briefest bit of attention to your cocks and your brains leak out your ears, well, I don’t blame you. That is just the way it is and now you see for yourself that men like you need a naughty girl like me for those dark desires to be fulfilled.” Once Violet finishes, she notices Mr. Santa’s face drop in utter frustration with the disappointment of a little boy who had just been given the greatest slice of heaven, a lighted Christmas tree with the bicycle he so desperately wanted only to be told it was not for him but for some other child. Somewhere in the deepest, most secret part of her heart she felt the slightest sensation of remorse and regret. Poor Mr. Santa was after all, most likely just as lonely as she was this evening and he didn’t seem to be a bad guy, perhaps a tad bit weird, but not bad.

(to be continued)

Christmas Story (part 4)

After several moments, Violet hears a discreet cough from behind her and Mr. Santa says, “Excuse me Miss, I don’t think I should, well, you know. I came here this evening on a rather important mission, a duty so to speak, and well..” But that is were Violet’s seductive voice cuts his short, “If you expect me to listen to what you are saying then it would be best for you to join me here and soon or else I am afraid your visit, whatever it’s mission or duty, will be for naught. I will emphasize that I am not accustomed to being kept waiting!” Her voice which had started out as a soft, quiet purr had ended with a sharp edge that was more a command then chit-chat. Mr. Santa was not sure there was any other way to recapture her attention since she seemed to be quite effectively ignoring him. So, with a hustle and rustle, he stripped out of his heavy black leather boots, wide leather belt, red, fur-trimmed jacket and then his pants. The entire time, he was hoping that Violet wouldn’t turn around just yet to see him in such a hurry to get naked. He briefly caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window and fleetingly thought how ridiculous he looked in his underwear, the red and white small striped long legged underpants and his matching tight shirt that stretched rather unbecomingly over his pot-bellied form. Shaking clear those thoughts, Mr. Santa was soon completely naked and just in time to avoid Violet’s annoyance at how slowly her unexpected guest complied with her wishes. Completely attuned to what was going on behind her, Violet heard his bare feet tentatively shuffle towards her, so, without turning around, she said “Very good, now, come and sit with me. Tell me what it is that brings you to my home this evening.”

Slightly put off, he merely stands beside her chair because there is nowhere to sit except on a soft fluffy fake fur blanket in front of her chair. When she pats the floor at her feet, he can not seem to help but follow her unspoken invitation or is it an order? “Now, that’s a good obedient puppy.” Violet purrs “Well, now that we’re all comfy cozy, tell me what I can do for a cutie like you” and her hands begin to stroke his hair and play with a stray curl with her perfectly manicured finger. Once again, he seems to hesitate and his eyes that were so secure and calm moments ago now seem to be feverishly avoiding the sight of the treasures on display before him and at such a convenient eye level too. However, finally, Mr. Santa seems to get a hold of this strange situation and begins, “Alright, now again, I am Santa Claus ..”

“Yes, I know, you have already said that, Father Christmas, of course!!” she chuckles playfully.

Mr. Santa resumes “And I have come here this evening to take you to the North Pole with me and teach you a lesson since there seems to be quite a few wives of your clients that had this specific request on their wish lists. They seem to want to see you treated the same way their husbands have seemingly been treated when you, well, let’s just say they want you to have a taste of your “own medicine” and, perhaps that would make you retreat from, ahem, your business.”

It takes a full minute before Violet completely comprehends exactly what her mysterious visitor is saying and the corresponding implications. However, once it registers, she begins to laugh, a full crystal clear laugh that, now, reminds Mr. Santa of the chiming silver bells on his own sleigh. And just as suddenly, Violet’s hand curls deftly into his hair and she pulls back his head until it is bent as such an angle that she is looking down and deeply into his eyes. Holding him immobile, Violet searches his eyes looking into his soul for any sign that he is of making fun of her.

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Such an odd evening, perhaps he was telling the truth. So, she decided, no matter how absurd it seemed, he must be telling the truth, weird. It could just have easily been her imagination play tricks on her but no matter what it was, Violet started to like this little game he was playing with her. “Well then, interesting. What do you think, am I doing anything wrong? Do you feel bad? Do you know precisely what those poor men have to endure when being with me?” Mr. Santa could only emit a muffled, “nawww” since by means of her firm grip in his hair she had pulled and pressed his face into the cleavage of her ample breasts, so he didn’t see the wicked glint in her eyes that betrayed the forming of a devious and slightly wicked little plan.

(to be continued)

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