The Elf's Christmas Miracle

Merry Christmas Lit community! This is my first Christmas story and first competition entry, so please be gentle with me. I tried so hard to make this a short story, but I couldn't stop my fingers - I kept playing with it, and massaging and tweaking it, and it kept getting longer and longer, and the longer it got, the more I liked it . . . so I'm sorry, I hope you can stay awake and enjoy my story. I also tried so hard to keep it wholesome, and Christmassy, and . . . I just couldn't do it. :( It's like the story had a mind of its own, and went off the wholesome rails, so if you're offended by a mixture of Christmas and non-con, bondage etc etc, please don't read this! If you do read it, I hope you will find the naughty themes and Christmas spirit to be compatible, as I attempted to do.
Kaya and I wish you all a warm and wonderful Christmas!

Xoxo
Tanuki

*

Kayako clutched her heavy coat about her chest, leaning into the blowing wind as she trudged in the knee-deep snow. It was not a long walk from the female elf barracks to her assigned Workshop #7, but she hated every second of the bone-chilling walk of death in the arctic winter. Why couldn't Santa put his sweatshops--she meant workshops-- in someplace warm. The Caribbean? Bali? These were places Kayako had only seen in magazines, for Santa didn't allow the elves to travel, nor did he allow them to use that thing they called the internets. Or intranet? Internet? Kayako couldn't remember.

Her teeth were chattering by the time she reached the heavy wooden door engraved with a number seven. She pulled the handle, and the door swung open with ease, despite the terrible wind, and the door's massive weight. One of Santa's little magic tricks, but one for which she was grateful at that moment. Maybe he could conjure up some hot chocolate to warm her bones, she thought, as she stomped the snow off her gray faux suede boots and unwound her scarf.

"Kayako!" boomed the voice. It was the elf supervisor for #7. He was always on her case. "You're late, as usual. It's 6 am, would you like to go back to sleep?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"May I, sir?" said Kayako, her eyebrows raised as she pretended not to catch his sarcasm. "I'm . . . still sleepy," she added, yawning and starting to put her coat back on.

"No!" boomed the supervisor. "Get over here! You have a pile of orders here at your desk, and they aren't going to build themselves!"

"Oh fine, you could at least ask nicely," murmured Kayako, hanging up her coat, hat, gloves and scarf in her designated locker. Underneath all that was simply her elf uniform, an unflattering gray tunic and blue skirt that came down to her knees. She grabbed the pointy blue elf hat from her locker and pulled it down past the tips of her ears, then moved across the large workshop to her desk. A dozen or more elves were busily crafting all sorts of toys. She saw them making little robots with articulated arms and legs, another elf was making an impossibly cute pink cat toy, and another was crafting a silver toy train with a green stripe.

"These are Japanese toys!" said Kayako, suddenly, stopping behind one of the busy elves.

"Yes," said the supervisor, with a tone of annoyance. "The boss decided to add Japan to our list just yesterday. Just what we need, another 100 million spoiled kids to build for!"

Kayako suddenly ran to her station. "Oh, this is so exciting! My parents are Japanese, you know!"

"Yes, we know!" came a chorus of elf voices. Kayako gave them all a dirty look, and plopped down in her chair, reaching for her order pile. She eagerly read the first one, and then frowned. It wasn't a toy order, it was a letter. She began reading, and then gasped. It was a summons, to Santa's office.

"Oh, forgot to tell you, Kayako," said her supervisor. "The boss wants to see you."

"Me?" squeaked Kayako. "S-Santa . . . wants to see me??" She couldn't believe it, she'd of course seen Santa Claus, but only when he was speaking to a crowd of elves. She wasn't sure he even knew she existed.

"Yes, and it looks like you're late, as usual," added the head elf. "I'd get your little Japanese butt over there."

"My butt is not little!" complained Kayako, standing and looking at her butt. The elf skirt was of course unflattering. It gave everyone a flat butt.

"It's . . . just an expression," said her supervisor, rolling his eyes, before shooing the diminutive black-haired elf away toward the door. Kayako quickly donned her winter garb again, a laborious process, and turned to wave at a few of the girl elves who were smiling their encouragement. Then she opened the door, sucking in a sharp breath as the cold hit her like a slap to the face. The walk to Santa's house was further, and Kayako grasped the guideline tightly as she trudged through the deep snow up the hill. Her parents had been Hokkaido elves, from the mountains of Japan's frigid northern island, so the cold should have come second nature to her, but she hated it. Frostbite, dry skin, colds and flus, and bulky clothes that hid her pretty curves, she hated it all. She couldn't wait until she turned 25 and would be free to leave Santa's workshop. Seven more years, she told herself. Elf years unfortunately. Maybe she could get them to change it to 25 human years?

The walk up to Santa's wooden cabin seemed to take seven years, but finally Kayako was able to stomp up the wooden steps to the door. She reached up a gloved and ice-cold hand to pull the iron door knocker in the shape of Santa. The man was beyond tacky, thought Kayako. Deep inside the cabin, Kayako heard the familiar deep voice of The Boss, but he seemed to be yelling to someone. Oh, not Mrs. Claus, she hoped.

Sure enough, when the door opened, there she stood, the wife of the Boss. Contrary to legend, Mrs. Claus wasn't old and friendly. She looked to be in her 30s; she was beautiful, and the scourge of the elf workers. Rumor has it, before she was born, Mrs. Claus still looked 30 and beautiful.

"What do you want?" said the dark-haired woman, dressed in a red velvet coat dress trimmed with white fur, that Kayako suspected was from a white wolf. How Santa would allow her to wear the fur of such a beautiful animal, she couldn't imagine, but then again, he probably hadn't a clue about the contents of his wife's wardrobe. One of Kayako's flaws was an overly expressive face, as she was instantly reminded. "What are you frowning at, you little tramp!" said the wife, her white gloved hands forming fists on her hips.

"Oh, s-sorry ma'am," answered Kayako, her teeth chattering as she still stood outside. Somehow none of the warmth of the house seemed to escape past the doorway, and she wondered if it was the wife's magic. "M-may I come in? I . . . got a s-s-summons?

"Oh, yes, of course! You must be Kayako," said Mrs. Claus, suddenly brightening up. "Come in, my little dear, come in!"

The toothy smile on the woman made Kayako's back tingle, reminding her of a hungry wolf, but one with a warm house.

"Thank you, M-Ma'am," she chattered, quickly stepping through the doorway. It was like walking through a wall of warm air -- as soon as she was past the doorway, she was blasted by the warmth of the house, and her shivering began to subside. Mrs. Claus closed the heavy door behind her and placed her long arm around Kayako's diminutive shoulders.

"You poor dear, you must be half froze to death. Let me take your coat," said the woman, still flashing Kayako a broad white smile. Kayako stomped her boots on the welcome mat, then removed her scarf, hat and gloves, and shrugged out of her coat. Mrs. Claus took her garments without asking, leaving Kayako standing there awkwardly in her elf uniform. "Oh my, you're a curvy little thing, aren't you?" said the much taller woman, looking Kayako up and down. "We best keep you away from Santa!"

Kayako gasped. "Mrs. Claus!" she exclaimed, unsure what else to say.

The woman waved her hand dismissively. "No matter, come, let's head into my study and discuss your summons."

Kayako opened her mouth to ask where Santa was, but then realized after what Mrs. Claus had said, she'd best not ask about her husband. "Yes, ma'am," was all she said, trying to hide her disappointment. She'd been hoping to see Santa, for she just loved the old man, so jolly and sweet, and all knowing. The man could see right through you, as if he knew all your thoughts, and that thrilled Kayako. She'd love to hear him describe her inner thoughts.

Mrs. Claus guided her into an adjoining room, which was lined floor to ceiling with books. Ancient books, modern books, even books that looked as if they were glowing. Kayako wondered if they were magic books? She watched Mrs. Claus move behind a massive oak desk, and take a seat in a tall, leather chair that appeared almost too tall for the desk. Arranged about the desk were stacks of red binders, dozens of them, all identical. Kayako wondered how she could tell them apart, but then the woman seemed to have almost limitless magic, or so said the gossipers in the workshop. She had hoped to see a computer, but the desk contained no sign of technology, and it was said the Clauses had no need for it.

"Take a seat, little elf," said Mrs. Claus, pointing toward a simple wooden chair in front of the desk. Kayako's eyes narrowed. She'd noticed the chair when she'd walked in, but now she could swear the chair was lower, closer to the floor. She quickly took a seat, and found it was indeed low, for her chin was now about the level of Mrs. Claus' desk. She looked up to see the woman leaning over the desk to peer down at her, and it made her feel small, like an insect. Kayako looked about the room, not wanting to meet the blue gaze of Mrs. Claus. She saw some pictures on a bookshelf. Santa, in his full Christmas Eve uniform with the reindeers, who really all looked the same to Kayako. It was said they could talk, but whenever she'd been around them, they mostly made chewing motions with their mouths. Then she smiled, for one of the photos on the shelf showed President Clinton. The older elves in the workshop loved President Clinton, and they would pull out these long brown cigars whenever talking about him. Kayako didn't understand the meaning of the cigars, but she always laughed, to avoid feeling foolish.

"Am I boring you, dear?" said Mrs. Claus, drawing Kayako's eyes immediately back to her now frowning expression.

"No ma'am! I'm sorry, I was just . . . um . . . nothing, ma'am!" blurted Kayako, sitting up straight in the chair.

"Good," said the woman. "Do you go by Kaya or Kayako?"

Kayako raised an eyebrow. "Kayako is my formal name, ma'am, but my friends call me Kaya."

"Kaya, it is. We're all friends here, are we not?" said Mrs. Claus, in a tone that brokered no response. Then she looked about her piles of identical red binders, and pulled one out, thumbing through the pages until she found the one she wanted. "Ah, yes, here we are." She looked up at Kaya, then slowly shook her head, making a tsk, tsk sound that reminded her of her mother. "You've been a bad elf, haven't you?"

Kaya stiffened in fear. "Ma'am? I . . . I don't understand," she stammered.

"Denying it, that's another 'x' on your record," said Mrs. Claus, taking out a pointy fountain pen and scratching a note in the red binder.

"I'm not denying anything, ma'am!" blurted Kaya. "I just . . . don't know what I did wrong?"

Mrs. Claus looked at her sternly. Finally, she sighed, reached into one of her desk drawers, and pulled out a yellow stuffed animal.

"Aww, pika!" declared Kaya, bursting into a smile at the sight of the cute toy animal. Then suddenly her smile turned to horror. "Oh no!" she gasped.

"Oh yes," nodded Mrs. Claus. "You stole this from the workshop, did you not?"

Kaya looked mortified. She held her hands up together in a gesture of pleading. "No, I didn't steal it, ma'am! I . . . I built an extra one for myself! He's just . . . so cute . . ." She smiled again at the adorable yellow animal, then quickly wiped the smile from her face.

"That is the same as stealing, is it not?" said Mrs. Claus, looking down at her from over her desk.

Kaya covered her face in her hands, before nodding.

"And you read the new rules issued to all elves earlier this year," continued Mrs. Claus.

"I . . . didn't read it ma'am," confessed Kaya.

"Of course, you . . . didn't . . . read . . . it," said the woman, emphasizing each word so they struck Kaya like little daggers. "And in so, broke a cardinal rule for Santa's elves."

"I was going to return it, Ma'am, I swear to Santa!" pleaded Kaya, tears forming in her eyes. She wanted to be strong before the scary Mrs. Claus, but she was overwhelmed by the thought of . . . whatever was the punishment for stealing. Perhaps it was detailed in the rules she didn't read.

"Ah, you were going to return it. So Santa could give some poor child a used toy, is that it?" mocked the woman. If Kaya didn't know better, she'd say Mrs. Claus was enjoying this. "No matter, your excuses mean nothing. You will be punished according to the rules." I definitely should have read the handout, thought Kaya.

"Of course, you don't know the punishment . . ." observed Mrs. Claus. She made the tsk, tsk sound again, which made Kaya visibly wince. "Well don't feel bad. All it says is that the punishment is at the discretion of House Santa. Me, in a word."

Kaya looked up sharply. She was at the mercy of Mrs. Claus. "Oh please, Mrs. Claus, don't kick me out of the workshop, please???" Kaya held her hands up grasped tightly together, and gave Mrs. Claus her most convincing look of contrition. There was a long silence in the room, as Mrs. Claus stared at the young elf, and the young elf prayed that she looked convincing.

"Well, I'm not going to do that, of course!" said the woman, finally. "From your record, you're not the least productive elf . . . well, you're almost the least productive elf, no awards for second worst. But it says you are popular and well liked, by the female elves, not just the male ones, since . . . well, we can see why the boys might like you . . . Ahem, in any case, we typically give you elves one of our difficult tasks, ones for which . . . well, we can't get any volunteers."

Kaya looked up at her, her expression a mixture of trepidation and curiosity. Every year at the Elf Christmas Celebration she was nominated as Most Likely to Die from Curiosity. She was proud of that award. She wasn't so proud of the Elf We'd Most Like to See in a Bikini award. She got that every year too. Mrs. Claus was looking down at her, and appeared disappointed in the lack of terror in the pretty black-haired elf. With a shrug, she dug into a pile of red binders, somehow selecting one and pulling it out.

"Ah, here we are," announced Mrs. Claus joyfully. "I thought of this one when your summons came across my desk, I think it is perfect for you. Your parents are from Japan, are they not? Do you speak the language?"

"I came here when I was a little girl, ma'am, so my Japanese is not so good," answered Kaya, now genuinely curious.

"Well, we can fix that, no worries," said Mrs. Claus, waving her hand dismissively. "The point is you will blend in there in Japan among the humans, unlike most other elves." Suddenly she slapped the binder shut. "It's decided then. This is an important task, and you seem the perfect fit. Let's get you down to operations."

"Ma'am?" gasped Kaya, confused. "Y-you are sending me to Japan? To be with . . . humans?"

"You catch on quick," said Mrs. Claus sarcastically. She saw Kaya touching her pointy elf ears. "Oh, don't worry about your ears, we'll fix those. Temporarily of course. Well, assuming you make it back."

Kaya paled. "Make it back? I . . . is that not a certainty, ma'am??"

"Well of course you must complete your task in order to return the Santa's village," said Mrs. Claus, as if stating the obvious.

"Oh gosh, I don't know, ma'am . . ." squeaked Kaya. "I don't know how to be around humans!"

"Don't be silly, my dear," scolded Mrs. Claus. "Humans are just like elves, only . . . taller, fatter, greedier, more devious, etc. etc. And perhaps there's some human blood in you. You'll definitely fit in well with your . . . not very elf-like physique," she added, waving a hand at Kaya's . . . something.

Kaya wrapped her arms around herself. Since she'd turned 13, the elves had all made fun of her breasts and ass, both too large and round and plumb for an elf. Rumor was her father was part human. Later, as she aged, some of the girl elves had become jealous, and the boy elves . . . curious. But it was a good-natured thing, the elves loved her like one of their own, that was just their nature. Kaya's concerns had already morphed into an intense curiosity.

"So, what is the task, ma'am?" she asked eagerly.

Mrs. Claus frowned. "Well, my dear, the nature of these Christmas miracles . . . well, to the humans it appears to be a miracle, but to us, it's a task. Anyway, the nature of these tasks is that . . . we don't know what they are! That is part of the task." She saw Kaya's look of confusion, and she sighed. "Kaya, you must go to Japan, and discover what your task is, and how to accomplish it. It is the nature of Christmas miracles, and . . . well, I'm sure you will do fine. The Christmas magic will guide you."

Kaya thought that sounded a little intimidating, especially since she'd already said she needed to succeed to return home. Then she saw Mrs. Claus standing up and moving from behind her desk. Kaya quickly stood, to avoid feeling like an ant sitting on the absurdly low chair. "Follow me," said Mrs. Claus. Kaya followed the red-coated woman out of her study to a door, which led to a long wooden staircase. She followed Mrs. Claus down the stone-walled staircase, deep underground, until they reached another heavy wooden door, which Mrs. Claus opened. Inside was a vast room, filled with elves, looking at brightly colored projections on the walls around them. Only they weren't screens, the images just seemed to appear on the wall, or even in mid-air. The elves were operating the screens by hand, and talking into headsets, and Kaya looked about in awe. So this was the operations center. It was where they managed Christmas Eve, delivering toys to the whole world. The room positively tingled with magic, as if it was overflowing and threatening to erupt. The sensation made Kaya feel strange and lightheaded.

"Come, child," said Mrs. Claus, walking past the elves and the screens to pass through a door on the far side. Behind the door was a hallway, with more smaller rooms to either side. Mrs. Claus entered the 3^rd one on the right, then closed the door behind her. This room was simple, there was a round low platform at the far end of the room, which was glowing a light blue color, and there was another station with a screen projection, manned by a single female elf.

"Kaya!" exclaimed the pretty blond elf. It was Miranar, one of Kaya's childhood friends, whom she hadn't seen much since the girl had joined Operations. The tall, slender elf skipped out from behind her station to rush over and hug the shorter Kaya, but she stopped short. "Oh, Kaya, I shouldn't hug you, I'm sick!" wailed Miranar, looking embarrassed. Kaya smiled and gave her a big bear hug.

"Nonsense," said Kaya. "I could never get anything bad from you, honey!" she said, giggling.

Miranar laughed, before sneezing into a handkerchief. "Oh Kaya," she said, her voice sounding nasally. "You're going to Japan, it's so exciting!"

"I'll leave you now, my dear," said Mrs. Claus. "Your technician can explain the procedure to you. I hope to see you again . . ."

"Uhm, thank you ma'am," said Kaya, giving Mrs. Claus a short curtsy. The woman closed the door behind herself, and Kaya brightened, grateful to be alone with her friend.