Goblin Wives - NORTH POLE Pt. 01

Goblin Wives -- NORTH POLE Part 1

© JAKwriter aka writerJAK -- December 2023

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Who ever thought of having a company Christmas Party on Christmas Eve. We should all be home in bed with thoughts of sugar Plums in our head. Instead, I'm hanging out with a bunch of seriously drunk coworkers.

Turns out that the brilliant team that runs our division of the company didn't think about scheduling the party until early December. Only date available was December 24th at a second rate hotel better known for being where assignations between management and their "flavor of the month" would spend a couple of hours for a long lunch "discussing company opportunities" while bumping uglies in one of the permanently reserved rooms.

Looking around, I didn't see any reason to stay. Slugged down the rest of my soda, alcohol and I don't mix well, and said my goodbye's. Not sure if anyone really noticed. Looked like the hotel was going to make a bundle giving my coworkers a place to sleep it off at special "Holiday" rates. From what I can see, they aren't too concerned about who goes in each room: two guys and a gal, three gals and two guys, a guy and four gals... Don't see anyone calling anyone else a cab, so I routed a dozen or so to the taxi area and got them out of Dodge. Also rounded up a few more, got them in my car and dropped them off at their homes. With that, it was time to head back home.

After pulling into the driveway and parking the car in the garage, I walked into my empty house. Empty for the past eleven years. Ever since my ex-wife ran off to parts unknown with the kids. Eleven years of trying to find them, trying to find my kids, with no luck. I had a dinky ass Christmas Tree in the living room with a few decorations. A bit better than Charlie Brown's, but not much better. Stockings were hung by the chimney with care...same ones for the last eleven years...in hopes that Saint Nick would soon be here. Yeah...right.

Going up stairs, I entered the master bedroom, changed, and got ready for bed. Then I walked downstairs to the living room and started a fire in the fireplace, then sat down on the couch looking at the flames. The Christmas Tree lights winking on and off in synchrony with the flickering flames of the fire.

Looking at the clock, Christmas Day was only a few minutes away. The flames of the fire beckoned. The Christmas Tree lights beckoned. Before I heard the clock chime midnight, I was sound asleep.

It must have been a very deep sleep, since I awoke with a start, confused where I was. Looking around, I realized I wasn't in Kansas anymore. The bed and pillows were plush, soft as a cloud. The covers were thick and warm, adorned with Christmas motifs. The room was rustic, but stylish, reminding me of lodges in Finland and Sweden that I'd seen on TV when I was a kid. Windows were large with bright sunlight coming through and snow drifts visible outside.

I was about to rise when a matronly woman entered the room. She appeared to be in her late sixties, standing 5' 6", roughly 180 to 200 lbs., white hair in a bun with sparkling snowflakes adorning it and the rest of her hair, ruddy cheeks, large breasts hidden behind her thick red dress, the dress trimmed in white fur and having iridescent black buttons. Looking down, I could see her dress stopped just above her ankles and that she wore red slippers trimmed in white.

Looking at me, she asked "How are you this morning? Did you get a good night's sleep?"

My brain was still only semi-functional, so I responded "Uh...yeah."

The matron, seeing my confusion, responded, "I'm Mrs. Clause. What's your name?"

Mrs. Claus? Where the fuck am I? This doesn't feel like a dream, but where am I and what's going on?

Replying, I said "I'm JAK. Justin Alan Kassel. Um...where am I?"

Smiling, she responded, "Welcome to the NORTH POLE, JAK!"

North fucking Pole, how did I get from my living room to here? Someone must have slipped something into my soda at the party. Har Har, look at JAK. Having hallucinations while sitting at home alone on Christmas. Not man enough to keep his wife and kids. Just putting in time to retirement. Let's mess with good guy JAK who tries to be nice to everyone, trying to hide what a loser he is.

That internal soliloquy would have continued for a bit longer, but Mrs. Claus interrupted, "JAK, you really are at the NORTH POLE. You aren't imagining this."

Looking at her, I asked, "So how is it that I'm at the North Pole?"

"No! No! No! JAK, you aren't at the North Pole, you are at the NORTH POLE", Mrs. Claus correcting JAK.

Confused, JAK replied "The NORTH POLE? There's a difference?"

Excited, Mrs. Claus responded "YES!!! The NORTH POLE is in a different dimension than your world."

In her excitement, you could see her breasts bouncing under her dress. I was almost certain she wasn't wearing a bra and guessed she was probably a DD or maybe DDD.

Taking my eyes off her beautify bouncing bounty, I asked "So how did I get here and WHY am I here?"

Looking at me with a sparkle in her eyes, bedroom eyes, eyes of a woman that wants the man she's looking at to fuck her ten ways to Sunday; she replied, "I called you here because I NEED you."

Oh fuck! I'm dreaming about a naughty Mrs. Claus. Someone put the weird shit in my soda. Fuck!

Closing my eyes and opening them again, I looked at Mrs. Claus again, and could see the hunger in her eyes. A hunger I'd never seen focused on me before, even by my ex-wife. Shit! What the fuck is going on!

Trying to slow things down, I queried with my usual smart repartee "Um...why did you summon me and why do you NEED me?"

Mrs. Claus looked pensive for a moment, "We'd best talk about this in the kitchen. I can get you some breakfast and I'll explain as you eat."

I was starting to pull back the covers then stopped when I realized I was naked. I was wearing my PJs when I fell asleep by the fire, but they definitely weren't there now. Looking at Mrs. Claus and at my still covered body she got the hint, pulling out a red robe with white snowflakes on it from somewhere and handing it to me, along with a pair of black furred slippers.

I thought she was going to leave me to myself, but Mrs. Claus wasn't moving and appeared to be anticipating my nakedness as I got out of the bed. Well, if she wants a show, I'd give it to her. It is my dream after all.

I slowly pulled back the covers, exposing more and more of my body, until I was completely uncovered. Moving to the edge of the bed, I slid my feet into the slippers, then stood up. Slowly spinning around, I gave Mrs. Claus a 360 degree look at me, all of me, including my semi-erect dick. Before putting on the robe, I looked in her eyes again. The hunger there was greater than before, her eyes riveted on my dick, her mouth slightly open and her tongue slowly running along her lips. Before she lost it completely, I put on the robe, cinching the waist tie tight.

Mrs. Claus looking amazingly happy, and I was confused. My body isn't anything spectacular. 5' 11", 200 lbs. give or take a few, not particularly fit (no washboard abs, 18" guns, or the like), and an average size dick (grower, not a shower). Regardless, she really looked happy and the hunger in her eyes was warring with her bedroom eyes. I was incredibly surprised when she didn't throw me down on the bed and have her way with me.

Instead, we walked through the house/building to the kitchen, a massive kitchen. A kitchen where you could cook for a couple of hundred people with no problem, IF you had a dozen or so chefs slaving away doing the cooking. Oddly, we didn't stop there, but continued to another part of the building to a smaller, more intimate kitchen. It was clearly a gourmet kitchen, but something you could find in a regular house. Off to the side was the classic breakfast nook with a table that could seat eight. Six could sit on a pair of benches, three on each side, and two armchairs at either end.

Mrs. Claus indicated I should sit on one of the armchairs. Once seated, she snapped her fingers and the table changed to an intimate table for two, the benches disappearing and the table shrinking. She then bustled around the kitchen making this and that. In fifteen minutes, she was placing multiple plates on the table: Biscuits and sausage gravy, scrambled eggs exactly how I like them, fresh cinnamon rolls with a light glaze, bacon cooked perfectly with the right amount of crunch, sliced fresh fruit, yogurt parfait, juice, coffee, and tea.

It all looked great, so I inquired "This looks great, but aren't you going to have some?"

"No," she replied. "While you eat, I'll explain what's going on and why you are here." sitting down in the other chair.

Digging in I ate as she talked.

"You're here because I want a child, actually children." I was about to interject, but was waved off as she continued, "Santa is a sexless elf. A really fat sexless elf. Elves are all sexless. They're just like a Ken Doll: no balls, no dick. There are no female elves. Elves don't have sex. They don't have any way to get off. So, they make shit. Lots of shit for Santa to give away."

"As you may have noticed, I'm NOT an elf. I have boobs, I have a pussy, I can have an orgasm, and I'm very horny!" Again, I was going to interrupt, but with a mouth full of the biscuits and gravy, didn't have a chance before she continued.

"I'm a goblin!" With that statement, Mrs. Claus stood up and stepped away from the table. She morphed from the elderly matron to a younger appearing form. Still 5' 6", give or take a bit. Light green skin, long red hair bound with silver hair clips, golden eyes, pointed ears, body roughly 36DDD-26-36 wearing a form fitting red dress with silver trim, and 5" red and silver CFM stilettos.

Sitting back down, she continued "Everything started a long time ago. Santa started his workshop and needed affordable heat and energy. Wood is too valuable to burn. We have oil, but it's hard to get at and not located convenient to the workshop. Goblins control the coal mines nearby. A deal got worked out so we'd supply the coal, his workshop would make stuff for us. As part of the deal, I got stuck here as the liaison, making sure our orders were getting filled on time and verifying the coal wasn't being diverted to the dwarves or other races. Dwarves really hate that we control the coal and keep trying to find a way to get it cheaper than we charge them. Among other things they do, periodically they try to sneak coal out of the naughty children's coal pile."

"As time passed, Santa needed a "wife" to keep up appearances. Santa as an unmarried bachelor was becoming a bit of a problem. Was he gay? Was he single so he could fuck wives and daughters on Christmas Eve? Was he just a pervert? You get the idea. Getting a wife helped mitigate the concerns. Santa worked a deal where if I was his "wife", he'd supply more stuff to the goblins."

"That all worked fine, but after a couple of hundred years, I was ready for a few kids. Santa couldn't give them to me. I was also horny. Horny just about all the time. Every once in a while, I could get Santa to lick me. He didn't like doing it, but eventually he got good at it. He tried to convince me that it was an extra service, and he should be able cut the deliveries to the goblins. I pointed out that we were "married" so he was obligated to service me periodically. Also, happy wife, happy life. He really didn't like it when I was unhappy. Work production went down as elves shut down and became catatonic."

"I really wanted something alive inside me, filling me, making me feel full and happy before orgasiming, but Santa refused to put his fingers in me, drawing the line at oral. He seemed to think finger fucking me would somehow damage his dexterity and toy making skill."

"Everything has been going along, me less happy, Santa getting tired of giving more oral sex. I'm ready for kids and I think Santa has found someone else. He roams around quite a bit, not just on Christmas Eve. He's been seeing Mrs. McGillicuddy for the last few months. She seems like the perfect new Mrs. Claus. She's a widow. Had sex once, got pregnant with her daughter, then never had sex again. Doesn't even jill off. Mr. McGillicuddy, twenty years later, got shot by a jealous husband the first time he fucked someone other than his wife. A sexless, 300lb woman who LIKES baking cookies, cakes, and pies."

Once again, I was going to pipe up, but before I could, she kept rolling, "I'm sure you have questions, but let me continue. I'm sure you are wondering about elves, dwarves, goblins, and the rest. Elves, as I said, are sexless. They breed by cutting a piece off of themselves. The missing part regenerates and the removed piece grows into another elf. Only way to kill them is to burn them, dump them in acid, anything that keeps them and any pieces from regenerating. Anything involving fire, flames, and the like are assigned to elves that aren't meeting production goals or who have done something naughty, like having any defects in their production, having any kind of individual personality, not keeping their workbench or tools clean and in good condition, you get the idea. Except for Santa's Workshop, elves don't use fire and need to trade for metal goods. They control most of the rare woods, like teak and ebony. They also supply most of the herbs and spices."

"Dwarves are nasty little shits. Almost as horrible as elves. Dirty and nasty, trying to steal goblin riches. They are patriarchal assholes, keeping their females hidden and telling the world women need to be kept in their place. Elves don't care since they are asexual. Dwarves are obviously talking about goblins since we are a mostly matriarchal society. Anyhow, there are supposedly five dwarf males for every female, so most of their aggression is because they are always horny, or maybe they haven't been blown or butt fucked enough. Anyhow, dwarves control most of the gemstones and about half of all the metal ores. We control the coal mines, but also the kimberlite mines supplying diamond and adamantine. Dwarves hate that they have to buy that stuff from us, so they form nice dwarf armies and march them on goblin towns and mines hoping to capture them or at least steal what they want from them. Pisses them off that goblin women keep beating their asses."

"Goblins aren't always nice, but we try to be. Hard to do with all the shit elves and dwarves shovel at us. As I said, we are matriarchal. Mostly due to there being roughly seven females for every male. Males are smaller and typically do the more basic tasks. There are exceptions, but about half work in the coal mines since they are largely immune to methane gas exposure and are resistant to fire. The rest do cleaning, mending, and repairing things. They are all highly motivated. Best performers get a hand job. Exceptional performers may get a blow job. A male that does something heroic might get to fuck a female, but that hasn't happened in over a hundred years. Women do just about everything else. Only problem we have is male goblins are almost universally sterile. No knows for sure, but bets are on something the dwarves or elves have done. Fortunately, goblin women can share a man's sperm, so a fertile male can get many women pregnant even if they fuck only one."

"So why are you here?" she continues, "Right now there are no fertile goblin males and no pregnant goblin females. Your job, should you accept it, is to fuck and impregnate as many goblin women as you can."

I had finished breakfast and stared at goblin Mrs. Claus in amazement. "You want me to do WHAT? How can *I* impregnate a GOBLIN!," I exclaimed.

"You heard me JAK. We want you to be our baby daddy. I discovered that YOUR sperm is compatible with goblin biology. You are a rare human, able to impregnate any goblin, dwarf, or other female in this dimension. Give them all big bellies and make them all beg for your cock. Since I found you, *I* get your seed first," she said, then smiled with a very predatory grin.

I gulped, trying to find a way out of this. Looking back at Mrs. Claus, I asked "So are you divorcing Santa? If so, what do I call you. And...uh...where were we going to..." I gulped again "...try and knock you up and make your belly swell up into a beach ball?" Shit, where did THAT come from. That wasn't what I was going to say.

"Yes, I'm divorcing fucking sack of shit. He should be getting served today. For now, you can call me Ms. Claws," her hands now sporting sharp, pointed fingernails whose color seemed to shift from blue through purple to black, then back. "At least until we fuck, then I'll be Mrs. JAK." Her grin now sporting numerous razor sharp teeth.

Her eyes glowing, Ms. Claws grabbed my hand and hauled me out of the kitchen, through the building to a different bedroom. This one had huge windows on three walls and a pair of french doors in one wall leading out to a covered porch. Dominating the room was an enormous sleigh bed, again covered with holiday motifs: Christmas Trees, snowflakes, wreaths, Santa's sleigh loaded with presents, etc...

Pulling me to the bed, she threw me down on it, ripping off the robe as my slippers went flying towards one of the windows. Her sexy Ms. Claws outfit was already on the floor, except for the 5" CFM stilettos, as she straddled me and rubbed her furry pussy on my cock, coating it with her juices. She was soaking wet and doing her best to get me hard and I was resisting. She frowned, then smiled, shoving one her DDD tits into my mouth, her nipple hard on my tongue, encouraging me to suck. Within seconds, my resistance ended as my mouth filled with milk, and my cock rose to full staff as she continued to rub it along her pussy with the tip bumping her clit.

"I can't wait to become your three hole slut. Taking all three of my virginities with your potent man spear, your wizardly staff, your potent baby maker." she said, rolling over and spreading her legs wide. Letting me see her shaved V pointing at her clit and slit.

"Mount me you bastard! Fuck the shit out of me! Give me a baby! Knock me up JAK!" she cried.

I rolled on top of her, teasing her with my dick. Slowly sliding it along her slit. Doing to her what she did to me. I would have gone down on her, but she said she was tired of that and wanted to be fucked. She wiggled and squirmed trying to get my dick into her honeypot, but I kept it out. Her frustration increased, so she moved a clawed hand down towards my cock. I grabbed it and her other hand, holding them over her head as I continued to tease her. She wanted to be a slut for my cock, well, that's what I'd try to make her. Frustrated over eleven years of Rosie and her four sisters, I was going to make this last. Might be the only super fuck my imagination would let me have, so I was going milk it, knowing come Christmas morning, I'd have the evidence of this wet dream.

"Put it in you fucking bastard! I don't want to cum yet! I'm fucking close and want you inside! Fucking asshole. Get it in," Ms. Claws ranted.

I was close too, so I started probing her entrance. Getting just the head in, then pulling out. Each push going in fractionally deeper. Her legs wrapped around me, the stiletto heels pressing into my back. She wasn't letting me escape. My cock hit her cherry and she went wild, pressing her hips hard against me, tightening her legs around me. Her cherry popped and I was all the way in. Her cunt gripped me tightly, undulating and squeezing. In seconds, both she and I came, came again, and continued to cum. Not sure if she had cum just once or several times, but I shot eight jets of cum into her.