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The Incident In Ho-Ville

Tinsel was one hot little elf and she knew it. She saw it in the way the other elves looked at her as she walked the production line, giving orders and reprimanding any she caught slacking. The males always blushed and looked away when she caught them staring, while the females tended to turn up their tiny snub noses at her disdainfully.

But that didn't bother Tinsel. She knew they were just jealous. Jealous of her beauty. Jealous of her high firm ass and shapely legs. And jealous that she had been blessed with a considerable cleavage, while most elvish females sported tiny buds, hardly noticeable beneath their green and red uniforms.

Then, of course, there was the fact that, despite her youth and lack of any real experience, she was the elf in charge. She'd caught the boss, the big man himself, leering at her lustfully one day from his high office window. A few simple visits to that office during off hours and the promotions had come quickly enough. Now, she oversaw the exclusive backroom of the factory; the workshop that manufactured sex toys and was the real money-maker for the multi-million dollar Big Red Enterprises.

Tinsel was in charge and some day she would be married to Big Red and have her every selfish desire granted. Getting rid of the old man's wife wouldn't be a problem. She was old and fat in that way mortal women got, while Tinsel would be forever young and sexy. It was just a matter of time. Tinsel was going places...

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"Why are we stopping?" Tinsel asked peevishly.

The elf holding the reins turned back to look at her apologetically. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but there seems to be something blocking the road."

"What is it?"

"It looks to be a small animal. It may be injured."

"Then go around it, idiot! Do I have to make all the decisions?"

"The snow banks are too high, we can't go around..."

"Oh, for..." Tinsel opened the side door and stepped from the sleigh. "I'd better not miss Sex In The City because of this!"

She walked around the two motley reindeer and found herself looking down into the eyes of the sorriest looking mutt she had ever laid eyes on. It had a stumpy-looking antler tied haphazardly to its head and bore the same expression of torment she so often saw in the eyes of her workers.

"Shoo!" she said, waving her tiny hands in front of her. "Go on, now! You're blocking the way!"

The dog looked up at her mournfully, but refused to budge. Tinsel had just decided that this situation was nothing a good kick in the ribs wouldn't remedy, when suffocating darkness closed over her head. She managed to gag out a single protest before the stench of badly-cured hide, reindeer dung and something medicinal caused her to lose consciousness.

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When Tinsel awoke from her ordeal, it was to find herself stripped naked and tied spread-eagle to an oversized bed. It was only the pounding in her head that kept her from fully enjoying the predicament she found herself in.

Whoever had done this to her, she decided, must be a professional. She cast an appreciative gaze over the racks of tools and torture devices lining the walls of the sumptuously appointed cave. But the appreciation dissolved as quickly as it had come when she turned to see a tall, green hairy beast standing on the opposite side of the bed.

"Ahhhh, very good..." the beast said in a voice like a movie matinee monster. "I was afraid I'd used too much formaldehyde."

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Tinsel squeaked. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Oh, yes," the beast lisped. "I know exactly who you are. And I know what you like, as well."

"What I'd like is for you to cut the shit and untie me!"

"Oh, I'm afraid that won't be possible. You see, I've been hired to teach you a lesson, my dear."

"Hired? By whom?" Tinsel squealed. "What do you mean teach me a lesson? I'll have you know I have big connections at the factory and..." Any more protest was cut short as the hairy green creature jammed something large and spongy into Tinsel's tiny mouth.

Her eyes widened as the creature smiled down at her, pulling back the foreskin of his oversized organ and feeding more of it into her gullet.


"Mmmm, very nice, my dear," the creature moaned. He closed his eyes and pumped slowly, enjoying the feeling as her accommodating mouth juiced up to accept him.

Fear found it's way into Tinsel's mind then. Fear of this bright, green creature and its oversized organ. She'd never taken anything of that size into herself before. Not even Dasher, Big Red's prize reindeer had come close to the size she was experiencing now. But what would he do with it? Would he suffocate her by shoving it down her throat? Or would he use it on her the way it was meant to be used? Either way, she was in very big trouble!

Then, with an unexpected pop, the creature pulled out and replaced his cockhead with a ball gag, expertly sliding the strap over her head and tightening it before she could protest.

"Oh, don't worry," he said soothingly. "There's more where that came from." Reaching up to the rack beside the bed, the creature pulled down a soft, wide-lashed whip and let it drop onto Tinsel's exposed belly, then pulled it slowly down to caress her moistening pussy and inner thighs.

The next caress of the whip wasn't quite so gentle and soon Tinsel was arching her back in anticipation of the next stinging fall. Her eyes glittered madly as the creature thrashed her tiny frame, turning her entire body into a raging fire of desire. By the time he got around to applying the clamps to her nipples and vaginal lips, she was gushing fluids with no relief in sight.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, she thought. If she was going to die, she had to admit, she couldn't have picked a better way to go.

For his part, the creature grinned evilly from ear to ear, finding pleasure in the infliction of pain, but never getting close enough to extinguish the flames that were threatening to engulf the poor mistreated elf. Gazing longingly at the huge green cock that leaped and bobbed before the creature, Tinsel's eyes pleaded for consummation. But he held back, raking her body with painful electric shocks and stinging needles, pinching, slapping and striping her with higher and higher levels of torture, until she felt she would spontaneously combust.

And then, suddenly, he stopped.

This was it, Tinsel thought/hoped/pleaded. Now he would fuck her with that huge green cock, splitting her open like ripe fruit and putting her out of her misery once and for all. She would go in the same way she had lived, engulfed in pleasure, sprinkled liberally with pain.

But instead, he laughed. A hateful, nasty, evil laugh. Then he turned his back on her and lurched from the cave, stopping at the entrance to look back over his hairy shoulder and lisp, "There's someone here to see you, my dear. Someone who feels you owe her something. Someone who has decided it's time for you to pay up." Then he chuckled to himself and disappeared.

It was only the ball gag that kept Tinsel, the hot little elf, from screaming when the woman strode purposefully into the room. Dressed entirely in black leather, she looked very different from the way Tinsel had seen her before. Thigh high boots, elbow-length gloves and a tightly-cinched corset accentuated her soft round figure, while severe make-up and snow-white hair pulled back in a tight bun, gave her a cruel look.

But it was the strap-on dildo that drew Tinsel's full attention. It was longer and thicker than any Jeff Stryker or Black Beauty she had ever seen. But worse, far worse, was the nasty row of barbs that ringed the underside of the glistening black head, curving inward like barbs. Her eyes flicked up to catch the cold grey gaze of the original ice queen and hope died inside her.

Smiling, ever so slightly, Big Red's wife stepped forward and, without so much as a word, positioned the head of the enormous dildo at the opening of Tinsel's wet, throbbing twat... and pushed... 

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This story originally appeared in the monthly adult entertainment magazine Playtime (December 1996), under the pseudonym Dante Solomon. Republished in my anthology Dimensions of Desire, Renaissance Books, 2010.


© David Salcido, 1996. Registered with the Library of Congress and the Writers Guild of America. All rights reserved.

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