The themes and events in this short story are not only unrealistic, but distinctly misogynistic. It's important that these themes are framed from a point of view of catharsis and not endorsement. Whether you have similar thoughts or are a victim of them, these stories are meant as a safe way to explore this prevalent attitude. This method of coping is not for everybody, so indulge accordingly. Enjoy.
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"But Santa! I feel like we only just got married!"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Claus, but you know I only like to keep a wife for a few years at a time! It's not like you didn't know this going in!" Santa boomed with a huge smile on his face. Of course, this fight was entirely within his control, but he enjoyed the ego boost of the pageantry.
"Can't I convince you otherwise? What if I give you a nice sloppy blowjob, huh? Then will you keep me as your wife?" Erica pleaded as she sank to her knees and fished Santa's huge long cock out from under his large gut. She gasped and sighed happily at the sight of it and after a long sniff along its length, she slurped it into her mouth.
"Oh you are very good at that, nobody can take that from you, my sweet!" Santa laughed, patting his huge belly and pushing forward into the blowjob offered by his wife. She really was the very best at it, but it was hard to tell if that was through any skill of her own or the improved chemical solutions that Pink Industries made by the time Santa got around to using their products again.
"Stho you'll lemme shtay?" Erica lisped around his massive pole, trying to savour every single inch and moment just in case his answer was no.
"Of course not, my love! You've been a very loving devoted wife for three years, but I'm sick of you and am eager to get a new model! Pink Industries improve their technology so fast that I just can't wait to see what my next wife will be like after she gets Bimbofied! I've had her picked out for just as long as I had my sights on you!"
Erica was heartbroken, but continued to service her husband. She adored the taste of his fat cock so much that she would do this for him even as a mistress and ex-wife. She realized that she should just be grateful for the years she was able to be a loving wife for the very large older man. She cradled his balls and slurped him deeper, giving it her all as she waited for the blessing of his seed.
In her condo, Jessa paced around in her room. Every year at this time she questioned her sanity. It had begun in college and at that time she had assumed it was something cute from a friend, but ten years later she had no other explanation than to assume that these "gifts from Santa" were actually from the man himself. Every year they appeared under her tree on December 20th exactly and every year it was the absolutely perfect gift that nobody else had gotten for her and that she had never asked for out loud. She had even started wishing for greedier and greedier gifts just to test it and every year she wasn't disappointed.
But the more the reality of the situation was confirmed, the crazier she felt. She wasn't able to share this phenomenon with anybody. She had tried and was always met with weird looks at best and ruined relationships at worst. She had once tried to get her boyfriend Paul to dress up as Santa so that she would have a way to thank him for the gifts and it freaked him out so much that it had almost ended their relationship. He was convinced that Jessa put out the gift for herself every year and sometimes Jessa even wondered the same thing.
It was the evening of the 19th and Jessa was scared to go to sleep. She had purposely not asked for anything for Christmas from anybody this year and she had tried to not think of a single thing that she wanted for herself. Any time she felt herself desiring something, she bought it for herself right away. Paul had been frustrated with this behaviour, but he knew better than to start a fight near Christmas time.
He was supposed to come over early tomorrow and Jessa felt panicked. She wanted to wake up before he arrived so that she could take the gift away and hide it.
What would it be this year? She couldn't deny her excitement and curiosity, but she also couldn't deny her sense of dread. It had started off as something so magical and now it just felt like a curse.
She eventually made herself some tea and forced herself to read and was able to slip away into sleep. Her alarm was set for 4:30am. Even Paul wouldn't come over that early.
She sat up wide awake at 4:28am and shot out of bed. She rushed to the little tree she had set up by the window out to her balcony and snatched up the little red box that lay there with a perfectly tied green ribbon. Her heart pounded.
"No need to wait to open this one, my sweet," the attached note read. As usual, it was signed "Love, Santa Claus". She opened it without hesitation and gasped at the contents. She normally wasn't one for too much jewelry, but inside a beautiful pink box was a gorgeous gold necklace with a pink jewel about the size of her thumbnail that dangled down enough to sit at a perfect spot in the neckline of most of her dresses. She ran to her bathroom and pulled off her fuzzy pajama top that she always wore in the weeks leading up to Christmas. She put the necklace on and gasped in delight as she watched how beautiful it looked on her bare chest. She would tell Paul it was a gift to herself and that there had been no gift from Santa this year. She would wear her plunging thin pink sweater and Paul would say how beautiful she looked and it would finally be a happy Christmas with her boyfriend.
She took another look at how beautifully it sat on her sternum before she rushed back to throw out the wrapping and get dressed and ready for her boyfriend.
When Paul opened the door with his key at 6:45 he was shocked to walk into warm welcoming scents. He adored Jessa and she was a successful and driven woman, but she ate almost nothing but takeout and frozen dinners. That generally worked for him because he loved to cook for her, but it was definitely a treat to discover that she was not only already awake, but apparently preparing breakfast as well.
"Jessa, is that really you?" He asked before he even walked into the kitchen. When he did, his jaw gaped. Not only was Jessa cooking and not only did it smell delicious, but she was completely dolled up. Normally Paul had to drag her out of bed even if he came over at a later time, but Jessa was in an elegant pink sweater, a beautiful pale pink pencil skirt and a tall pair of pink heels that he didn't even know that she owned.