© Copyright 2003
This is a story about a sexual FANTASY written for consenting adults. If you're not both of those, don't read it. Characters in a FANTASY don't get sick or die unless I want them to. In real life, people who don't use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do get sick and die. You don't live in a FANTASY so be safe. The fictional characters in my stories are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try to do what they do - someone could get hurt.
If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here, congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, since all of these characters are figments of my dirty little imagination.
This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. You can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact, but if you make money off of it, you're breaking the law and pissing me off.
In the far North, where Santa has his toy factory, there's not a lot for the elves to do. They run three shifts a day in the toy factory, but there are plenty of elves for that. Santa even gives them three weeks vacation every year. Since most of the world is populated by humans, however, and everyone knows how humans treat those that are different from themselves, most of the elves stay home for their vacations. What do you suppose they DO with all that free time? Well, why do you think the elf population has kept pace with the growth of the toy factory?
"Where the heck is Dinky!" Raffle roared, coming perilously close to using one of the proscribed four letter words, "I've got a lot of new adult toys that need testing, and she's nowhere to be found!"
"She's in the stable with the reindeer again!" somebody hollered from the back of the factory floor, "Pulling a train with Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and Vixen!"
"What about Comet, Cupid, Donder and Blitzen?" somebody else piped up.
The original voice answered, "Oh, they're doing Rudolph!"
Another voice: "Always knew there was something different about that boy!"
"All right!" Raffle roared again. He was factory supervisor in large part because his voice carried to even the most remote corners of Santa's toy factory, "I don't need a 'blow-by-blow' account of her doings! I just need to get these adult toys tested, and that's her job!"
The whole factory cracked up at Raffle's unintentional pun, leaving him scratching his beard in confusion. Then a tiny voice spoke up.
"I'll do it!" three foot two inch Tinky shouted from the children's toy testing area, "I'm good at testing toys!"
"These are ADULT toys, Tinky!" Raffle lowered his roar to a loud rumble.
"Children's toys, adult toys - toys are toys, Supervisor Raffle!" Tinky answered, "What can be so difficult?"
A few snickers and titters answered from the door of the adult toy section, but Raffle scratched his beard and said, "Well, you HAVE always been conscientious in your work Tinky, and I'm in a bind, so we'll give you a chance - on a strictly probationary basis mind you!"
The points of Tinky's ears glowed almost as bright as Rudolph's nose in her happiness and she skipped down the aisle, her little tits bouncing under the green lycra top she wore, to the mysterious adult toy department.
Tinky had heard rumors, of course, but nothing prepared her for the sights that greeted her as she stepped into the secret sanctum. One whole assembly line was filled with multitudes of sports cars and off-road vehicles. Another turned out motorcycles and ATV's. There were shiny new mountain bikes and road bikes, power tools, and computers.
Tinky's eyes sparkled as she beheld the wonders before her. "OOOOHHHHH!" she cooed, "Which ones shall I test first?"
Raffle took her by the arm and started across the floor. "This is the men's toy department!" he grumbled, "You're needed in the women's!"
.... There is more of this story ...