SANTA'S WORKSHOP
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Bombel was singing as he hopped out of his shower and got dressed in his very best elf suit, green short pants, red-and-white-striped socks, a green jerkin over a red knit shirt and his green shoes and green hat with a white bird's feather. Stood and looked at himself and said, "Bombel, you look just the part for your first day in Santa's Workshop!" He had just turned the minimum age for an elf to work in Santa's Workshop, he was now officially an adult elf of one hundred and twenty-one years, or as it was known among elves, he was "eleventy-eleven" at last!
And right on time, his mother called out, "Bombel, your breakfast is ready! Come hurry, you don't want to be late your first day on the job!"
"Yes, mother!" Bomdel was more than happy to eat the bowl of oatmeal his mother made, it warmed his stomach and made him feel all was right with the world. And sure enough, he got to Santa's Workshop just as the other elves arrived, and he was able to stand in line and be checked in by Nismod, the Chief Elf. "Bombel. Yes, congratulations on your first day on the job. Christmas is less than a month away now, so we'll need you to be on your best behavior, pay attention to what you're doing and when in doubt about what to do, ask the other elves. I'll put you on an easy assignment to start with, assembling baby dolls, and if you prove yourself on that, I'll move you up to toy trains in no time. Now, on your way, Table Twelve."
"Yes, sir!" Bombel scampered on to Table Twelve. This was an easy job, the arms and legs and bodies and heads were in boxes, all he had to do was put the arms and legs and a head on, pull a white dress and socks on the feet and a bonnet on the head. Then it would go into the small plastic bassinet for wrapping, packing and shipping. This was a busy table for baby dolls were one of Santa's most popular toys, every little girl either wanted one or wanted another one every Christmas. And as his hands were kept busy, his mind was kept occupied by the other elves, they sang songs, talked, joked, told stories, all of this was fine as long as they kept on making toys. Bombel managed to put in a very good day of work and went home tired but happy.
But day followed day and as Christmas got closer, the elves were asked to work longer hours to make the toys that were being asked for by children all over the world. Bombel was busier than ever, for as he became adept at his task and could make more dolls, the other elves were taken away to do other tasks, leaving Bombel to take up their slack. As day followed day, the drive was for more dolls, more, more! The machine that made the individual parts ran night and day and Bombel was working twelve hours a day, fourteen hours a day, sixteen hours a day, to keep up. He barely had time to stagger home, eat a quick meal his mother had left for him in the kitchen, bathe and fall into bed. The next day, he would rise, dress, eat breakfast and rush to the job to make more dolls, more, more, more!
Well, an elf at the North Pole expects to work hard at Christmas time and he was young enough to endure it. And then, after Christmas Eve was done all over the world, he'd have an entire week to rest up before coming back to work to get a head-start on the toys for next year.
Yes, Bombel could handle the work and the shortness of sleep. But he was facing one other problem. He was a young elf and had the normal drives of any elf at that age. But he was so busy at the workshop every day, he was too tired at the end of every day to even think of using his hand to relieve the pressures. In the morning, he could only stagger out of bed and dress and gulp the oatmeal his mother made and race to the workshop again.
It literally left no time for him to scratch, especially the kind of "scratch" that would take care of his aching elven testicles!
Christmas was approaching fast and the high-tech jobs were taking most of the elves out of their traditional workshop to assemble the components of video game systems and such. It was now only Bombel and one of the oldest elves in the workshop, old Davner, working on assembling the baby dolls now. Davner was nearly at the age when he would stop making toys altogether, he would retire soon to spend the rest of his days relaxing with other elves his age by the fire, drinking warm grog and reminiscing about Christmases past.
So Bombel braced himself to speak with old Davner about his troubles. He was struggling with phrasing it when old Davner himself opened the door to the talk. "You're being awfully quiet today, young Bombel. Happy talk makes the time pass quicker, you know, but any talk is better than none at all. What is troubling you, young elf?"
Bombel managed a smile. "The same thing that troubled you when you were my age, no doubt."
"My first Christmas in the Workshop. Yes." Old Davner did seem to understand. "All your day is taken up with work and your night with sleep and you're wondering what to do."
"Yes, yes!" Bombel agreed, nearly in tears. Someone else did understand! "What do I do?"
"The same thing elves have done during Christmas ever since we started things, back when I was a child, over a thousand years ago." Davner said. "You wait for one of your break times and when it comes, instead of going into the break room for cocoa and cookies, you go through that door over there." Old Davner indicated a door that Bombel had noticed but never had a chance to check out, unlike most rooms in the workshop, it held no sign telling what lay behind it.
"What's in that room?"
"Toys, of course." Old Davner only paused for a second, then continued. "Toys that elves have been designing and perfecting for a thousand years. Not toys for children, oh, my, no! Toys for elves like you, who need some help through this busy time of year."
And that was all Old Davner would say about it. Bombel puzzled over it for the hour until his next break time came along. The elves would stagger their breaks this time of year to keep the toy production going, but these breaks, four every day, were times for them to get a drink, eat something, rest and other personal things. Bombel would normally eat during this break, but the urge of his loins was a hunger much more urgent, he would eat during his afternoon break. He waited for the clock to chime the hour and then quickly abandoned his station. Old Davner smiled tolerantly, the smile of a man who remembered all too well the urges that drove a young man, even if his own urges had mellowed and dwindled with the centuries.
Another elf was headed for the same room and Bombel said as soon as they got into the door. "This is my first time here. What do I do?"
"Take off your shoes and pants only. Then just find an empty toy to use."
The explanation was still cryptic to Bombel but he could certainly handle the instructions now and find out the details later. His shoes slipped off and his pantaloons were as easy to remove. Bare below the waist except for his socks, Bombel hung his pants up on hooks that were there for that purpose, and followed the other elf into the main part of the other room. "Wow!" was all he could say when he saw the toys in that room!
Elves love toys, of course, and Bombel was an ordinary elf. But until then, it had never occurred to him that the toys could love him too!
"Hurry up, pick a toy and get in place!" the other elf encouraged Bombel. "You have to be finished before your break is over."
No time to look around, then! Bombel looked around hastily and...over there! Perfect! He scurried over and up to the toy! As for "getting in place," the position was obvious. He stepped up and slid his feet into the stirrups that hung from either side of the gigantic toy.
A gigantic toy that any young boy of the last century would recognize in no time. An enormous toy soldier, with a high cylindrical hat with ostrich feather held on by a strap under the chin, the red uniform with golden epaulets and brass buttons in double rows, the tight white trousers with a black stripe down the outside of each leg over high black boots. The difference between the toy soldiers they gave to children and this one (besides the fact he was some six foot five inches tall) was the fact that this soldier's trousers were open and held a substantial erect prong extruding from it. Bombel, by stepping his feet into the stirrups, was just able to lever his butt over the organ and a wriggle of his hips matched it up with his ass.
Once he had it firmly inserted inside himself, his arms around the masculine waist, it was only a matter of locating and throwing the switch in the soldier's back. And the soldier began to move, slowly at first but increasing in speed as the clockwork inside began to move more smoothly.
Bombel closed his eyes and crooned as the soldier's thick, strong dick began to slide in and out of his ass, the hips of the soldier bobbing back and forth in a way that moved the cock perfectly. Ah, yes, this was just what he'd been needing! All the stress and overwork he'd been enduring was suddenly like nothing, if he could slide back in here every day (or twice maybe) and ride this dong.
"Bombel?" came the stern voice.
"Nismod?" Bombel gasped. He had been caught in here by the Chief Elf! "I...I'm on my break, sir!"
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Sir, I...I thought this is what we were supposed to do in here!"
Nismod looked at him wide-eyed and then started laughing. "I didn't mean that, Bombel! Why, I visit that one over there (a teddy-bear figure, otherwise jointed like the soldier) at least twice a week during this period. I mean, don't you know you have to wind them up first?"
"I...I guess I forgot!" Bombel was still being fucked by the soldier.
"Let me do that for you this time." Nismod said. "You're shaping up into a proper elf, no reason you shouldn't enjoy the little perks our workshop can provide like no other!"
"Oh! Oh! Thank you, sir!" Bombel was still getting a pretty good fuck, on what must have been the left-over winding of the prior user of this soldier's dick.
But when Nismod wound up the soldier, Bombel knew the real joy of being one of Santa's elves! The clockwork shifted into high gear, he was being butt-fucked at a rapid pace. The soldier had him moaning as the shaft plunged in and out of his tight little elven butt with a speed that was driving him wild.
"That's a good ride you chose for your first time." Nismod said as he watched Bombel being rammed by the toy soldier. "The elf who built that soldier was one of our master clockwork makers."
"Yes, uh, uh, uh!" Bombel panted.
"Enjoy your ride, young Bombel." And Nismod finally, thankfully, moved on, leaving Bombel with his toy soldier and his joy.
Alone and basically ignored (the other elves had all found their own "rides" for this break by now), Bombel gave himself totally to his fantasy. His own face was well below the soldier's own face even in his elevated position, but he stretched up and just could kiss the toy soldier's chin with his lips. Bombel closed his eyes and dreamed that this toy soldier was actually alive, was panting and breathing and gasping in his ear as it fucked him. If only it were so, if only it were so! There would be no better toy for him to have but this toy soldier, alive in the way that meant the most to him at his own age of newly adult, to be warm and alive and in his bed with him! If only it were so!
Bombel's pleasure rose in him like a gently rising bath rises in the tub as the water is poured in, rising until it covered his lower body, then crept up, up, up!
"Oh, oh, yes, yes, my toy soldier, my toy soldier!" Bombel cried out in his ecstasy. He was far from the only elf crying out so, none paid him any heed in that room of elves finding their pleasure in the short rest in making toys to pleasure themselves with toys crafted with clever elven hands, then to return to the work floor refreshed and ready to make more toys, more and more, for all the children of the world! "Fuck me, fuck me harder, faster, faster!"
But of course the soldier couldn't but the clockwork kept up its steady unwinding, and the soldier kept on ramming Bombel's butt as his ecstasy grew and grew and grew!
"Oh, oh, I'm coming, I'm coming, Mr. Toy Soldier!" Bombel cried out as his climax rose within him. "Here it comes, here it comes, oh, oh, OH, OH, OH, OH, OHHHHHH!"
Bombel's spunk splattered the toy soldier's bright red uniform as he came, hot splashes of jizz that flew all over the red and gold-colored cuttons, and the soldier's face never changed, but Bombel's fantasy caused the soldier's face to crease in joy and then to cry out in his own orgasm, and Bombel's dreams filled his ass with come as the toy soldier rammed and rammed his butt, and he came and came and finished and held onto the soldier's body, gasping in his spent joy and he felt the soldier's breast against his cheek as if it rose up and down, back and forth.
"Oh, Mr. Toy Soldier, that was so good, so good!" Bombel panted.
"Are you done, Bombel?" one of the elves walking by him on the way back to the rack where their pants were hung asked him. "Hurry up, break time is over! Time to get back to work, only ten days left until Christmas Eve, you know!"
"I know!" Bombel regretfully threw the switch on the soldier's body to the "off" position and the toy soldier slowed and stopped, frozen with an eternally genial smile and Bombel on impulse kissed the soldier on its lips. "Thank you, Mr. Toy Soldier. You were wonderful!"
And he pulled himself off the soldier's cock and stepped down from the perch of the stirrups. With a sigh, he pulled his pants back on, drew on his shoes, and returned to the table and began to make baby dolls again. He was able to sing like he hadn't in days and told innumerable jokes that kept Old Davner and the other nearby elves in stitches. And Bombel returned on his very next break to the room and again rode the soldier's cock to another joyful climax.
Christmas came as it always did and Bombel worked nearly nonstop with the other elves to keep Santa's bags filled and labeled and ready for his next trip. Finally, though, the gifts for the Aleutian Islands and Hawaii were packed and ready for Santa and Bombel could finally, finally, go home and rest, knowing that he could sleep as long as he wished and none would disturb him, for he was on a full week's rest now, no more work for him at all until the New Year.
No more toy soldier ride on his rest breaks either for that week. But he could use his hand again, he wouldn't need to rush it when his body did desire release. Still, that thought vaguely depressed him. Maybe he could slip into the workshop now deserted for a quick ride or two during this week....
But after only twelve hours of blissful oblivion, Bombel found his mother waking him and asking him to deliver a package to one of her friends. The friend invited him in though he tried to beg off, set him down at her table and proceeded to monopolize his time for over an hour. He finally got away, feeling like he was escaping from a prison!
Bombel's mother kissed his cheek when he came back. "Thank you for doing that, dear."
"I don't see why you didn't do it yourself." Bombel said rather ungraciously.
"If I hadn't," his mother said slyly, "how would your friends have managed to bring over the surprise for you?"
"Surprise?"
"When you go back to work, they're putting you in the mechanical toys section. Nismod himself said you seemed to have some good ideas for them to try out there."
"Well, yes, I do." Bombel admitted. "Will I really be allowed to work on them in future?"
"Yes you will. Still working only in assembly, but you'll have time to work on your own ideas once you make the daily quota each day. Nismod said he felt sure you could do that easily and he brought over the gift for you, a Christmas gift from your co-workers, he said. Also, he said he felt it would give you lots of inspiration in your new job."
"Yes, yes!"
"So go to your room and see what they brought you."
Bombel ran into his room and saw the gift from his co-workers and gasped out in pleasure and surprise. And ran to hug his present.
The toy soldier. His now, and forever and ever!
THE END
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E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM