“What do you mean, no Santa Clause for the children?” my husband Ivan yelled at me.

“Ivan, I took the kids to the mall today to see Santa Clause. When they got to sit on his knee and told him their Christmas wishes, he told them that there would not be any. He said that they were not on his list because YOU had been a naughty boy this year.”

“Who the hell does he think he is? This ‘mudak,’ this unmitigated dickhead thinks he can do this to Ivan the Terrible. I’ll take care of him. I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse,” he shouted as he became flushed and spittle sprayed the room.

“Ivan, you can’t mean to threaten Santa Clause,” I blurted out.

“Quiet woman, leave this to me,” he yelled.

I knew better than to confront him when he got in these rages. So I hastily moved to the background as he yelled for Dimitri, his ‘Sovietnik,’ the number two man in his organization.

There are many advantages to being the hot wife of a ‘Pakhan,’ the godfather of the Russian Mafia in New York. The jewelry, clothes, and cars are lovely. Having everybody at your beck and call is undoubtedly handy. However, you do have to tread carefully. I was wife number three and was never told what had happened to the other two.

We had met when I was a dancer at one of the nightclubs he controlled, and his macho good looks had swept me off my feet. I had always had a soft spot for bad boys, and with Ivan, I had found the worst of the lot. We had married after a whirlwind courtship eight years ago.

After some whispered conversation with Dimitri, Ivan turned to me, “Don’t worry, Sandra. It’ll be taken care of.”

“How? What are you going to do? I mean, this guy is not the real Santa Clause. He just wears a costume and makes kids happy.”

“Sandra, this is big business. I know he’s just a stand-in for the real Santa. However, all these guys report back to head office up at the North Pole. Dimitri is going to pay him a visit. He will be given a few alternatives to choose from. My children will have presents from Santa or else. Now come here and give me a blowjob. I need to un-stress after all this.”

“No, not till you tell me what you are planning.”

“What! Do you pose conditions on ME? I won’t tolerate that,” he screamed, working himself into another rage.

“Ivan, despite who you are and what you do for a living, I love you. Only God knows why. Santa Clause and Christmas was the only thing I liked in that stinking orphanage I was raised in. I may be your hot wife and slut, but I won’t have you do anything to sully those childhood memories.”

“Sandy, I’m a thug, true enough; however, I also cherished Christmas as a child. I loved it back home when ‘Ded Moroz’ and ‘Sneguročka’ brought all the children presents. I will NOT tolerate that he deprives our children because I am not a good person. I have just made him an offer he can’t refuse.”

“Who the hell is “Ded Moroz” and what is a “Snegu ... whatchamacallit?” I shrieked at him.

“‘ Ded Moroz’ is Father Frost, and ‘Sneg-U-Rochka’ is the Snow Maiden. They deliver gifts to all the children. In effect, it’s just an alias he uses in Russia.”

“So what kind of an offer did you make that he can’t refuse?” I asked

“I sent a message declaring New York a no-fly zone for reindeer with or without red noses. Not a fucking gift will be delivered here unless he agrees to renegotiate his decision. Of course, as a good negotiator, I also sweetened the pot for him.”

“Oh, how did you do that?” I asked.

“He gets to have sex with you. I can’t think of a man who would refuse that offer, can you?”

“Ivan, I don’t want to make love to a fat old man with a smelly beard who probably smells of reindeer poop. How can you do that to me?”

“You’ll do as I say. I want the kids to get their presents. You will make sure he has a good time. Understand!”

At that point, Dimitri returned from his mission. “All set, boss, he agreed and made a counteroffer,” he said.

“What counteroffer?” Ivan asked in a cautious tone.

“He said he is offering you a ‘Snegu ... something’ as a courtesy.”

“Excellent. He is a true businessman. I think we’ll get along well. You did well, Dimitri.”

“Well, Sandy, ready for an orgy on Christmas Eve with Santa?”

“You know me, Ivan. I’m always ready for one. I know how horny that makes you, and that pleases me because you always give me great sex afterward, but really ... Santa?”

For the rest of the week, I was on tenterhooks. I had a hard time conceiving of having sex with Santa. However, I wanted to make sure the children would not be disappointed and resolved to do my best under the circumstances.

Ivan was floating on a cloud. He went around with a dazed expression and kept playing this piece of classical music everywhere. He even insisted it play in his nightclub. The club girls were in revolt, threatening to have a sit-down strike, certainly not on customer’s laps.

“Ivan, this has to stop,” I told him. “You can’t expect the girls to bump and grind to Rimski-Korsakov’s music even if it is titled Sneguročka. So what is it with you and that dame?”

“When I was a kid, we had figurines of her decorating the Christmas tree. I spent hours gazing at her, and now comes an opportunity to have an orgy with her. Don’t be jealous, Sandy, but it is a boyhood dream come true.”