3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Percy

Seven Days Until Christmas Eve

I stared at the enormous dick on my bed. It was larger than I remembered it being. Was it modeled after a real person? There was no way. Containing that in your pants would be impossible.

My earlier actions were coming back to haunt me. I couldn’t believe I had actually taken it from the workshop floor without permission. We could have toys, that wasn’t it. But they kept inventory, and we needed to let them know so they didn’t go looking for them on Christmas Eve. But did I follow that simple rule? Of course not. Why? Because I was afraid they might say no to my request.

It was unlike any other dildo I had seen that day—or any day since I had been working at Santa’s Naughty Workshop. Gum drops, it was unlike any I’d ever imagined. There was something so perfect about it.

My mouth watered as I stared at the veins that crawled up the length of it. What was wrong with me? I’d never looked at a toy and wanted it before. Sure, the idea of them was intriguing, and in my imagination I thought about them, but this level of need over a toy? Nothing close to this had ever happened before.

I found myself not wanting anyone else to have it, especially not Chester, which was such a weird thought for me to have. But it was mine, for only me. I refused to let anyone else so much as touch it. My dick thickened at the very thought of putting it inside me.

Sitting next to it was an equally impressive bottle of lube, designed to mimic the feel of Omega slick. My slick was already gathering at the anticipation of me using it, but with something this size, a little help wouldn’t hurt.

I knew that if I conjured up thoughts of an actual alpha—someone I’d genuinely want to be with—my arousal would kick up another notch. There were a lot of attractive alphas at the North Pole. Yet when I closed my eyes, all I could picture was Nick. Santa 69. The big man. My boss.

The one man I should not be fantasizing about at all. Ever.

He was so incredibly unattainable; it wasn’t even funny. My attraction to him was inappropriate at best.

I wore my silk pajamas, which featured a cartoon version of Santa wearing only boxers, flexing his muscles in various poses. I liked them because they reminded me of my Santa. Unlike the other big, jolly Santas, they built Santa 69 more like a bodybuilder.

He filled out his suit, but in very different ways than the commercialized version of Santa. His broad shoulders and thick biceps filled out the red velvet coat he wore. The black leather belt went around his slim waist, drawing attention to his hips.

The leather of his suit, combined with the fur cuffs and trim, had to feel divine against the skin. Much like the feel of silk pajamas against my skin. I often wondered what a full set of silk sheets would feel like. I bet they’d feel amazing—if I didn’t slide all over the place. What sheets did Nick prefer? Was he all about flannel and warm cozy sheets, or was he a linen guy? Did he have silk sheets? If he did, I bet he slept naked.

Gum drops! I needed to stop thinking about him like this. Only I couldn’t. The more I tried, the more I imagined him naked, in bed, lying on red silk, his cock hard and ready for me.

I unbuttoned the shirt but left it on, slipping out of my pants. Standing there in just the silk top, I decided I was really doing this. No one would know. It was just me and the toy, the one that fell on my lap. It wasn’t like I went out of my way to find and take it.

Sucking in a deep breath, I climbed onto the bed.

Should I pull up some porn? Should I start with my fingers? How does one even get started here?

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself. I was so out of practice—or was it even fair to say out of practice if I had never started the game to begin with? Chester was right—I was pathetic. I didn’t even know how to use a toy correctly. My entire experience had been my hand and nothing but my hand.

I leapt off the bed and pulled my pants back on, tying them loosely around my waist. I had to stash the toy where it couldn’t be found, or perhaps return it to the workshop.

No, I would not return it. It was mine, even if I wasn’t going to use it. Or maybe, eventually, I would work up the nerve to try it. Once the pressure of the holiday rush subsided, I’d be able to unwind. Right? It might take some liquid courage courtesy of a bottle of wine, but I could do it. It couldn’t be that difficult, not the way everyone else talked about them. They were a toy and toys were fun, not stressful.

I was just about to stash the enormous dildo in the back of my closet when a knock sounded at the door.

Gum drops!

I lived in the dorm-style version of elf housing. I could’ve requested a little cabin for myself, but I didn’t need that much space. Having a cabin meant more to clean and maintain, and frankly, I wasn’t up for it. So, instead, I chose an apartment-style setup—basically one bedroom with an attached bathroom. The apartment had shared kitchen, laundry, and other amenities.

I hadn’t been in this one long enough to make real friends. Perhaps I needed to work another shift. That was something I could do. If I was working, it would keep my mind off the toy.

I opened the door, forgetting that my shirt was still wide open.

Standing there was the very man who had been starring in my fantasies—Santa. Large and in charge.

“Eep,” I squeaked.

His broad grin made his beard shift, and I had the overwhelming urge to run my fingers through the silky threads. His beard was long, white, well-kept and wavy. I would not reach up and run my fingers through it. I was not.

“Eep,” I said again, before clearing my throat. “Nick, sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

He leaned in, placing a hand on the doorframe. “Actually, there is, Percy. See, we’ve got a little tangle down in the workshop, and I’m looking for someone who can help me out.”

Work. Of course, he was here about work. That didn’t stop me from being disappointed. As if Nick were here for me. That would be absurd. He probably only picked me because he knew I didn’t have a social life and would be available.

“Yes. Right away. I can help with anything.” I sounded as desperate as I was. “Work-related, I mean. Anything in the workshop.”

He smiled. “Hopefully, this won’t take too long—or pull you away from anything you might be working on in here. Am I interrupting something?”

His gaze roved over my pajamas. The heat of his gaze on me had my skin tingling. Could he tell? Did he scent the arousal on me? Sugar plums. He was Santa. He had the naughty and nice list at his fingertips. For all I knew, he got an alert saying I traversed over to the naughty side and was here to figure out what I’d done to deserve that.

I quickly grabbed the nearest item of clothing and covered myself. “Nope. I’m just getting ready for bed.”

I hastily buttoned my shirt, trying to keep my chest hidden as I did, more fumbling with the buttons than getting them fastened.

“You missed one.” He gestured toward my shirt, a mischievous smirk on his face. He knew. There was no way he didn’t know with a smile like that. Where was an avalanche when I needed one? “Meet me downstairs by Whipsy Lane, okay?”

“Okay.” My head bobbed up and down like a bobblehead like my last department made.

He turned and left, leaving me standing there, my head spinning at all that had happened in such a short period of time.

I was a disaster, and now? Now I was going to the workshop, probably to be fired all because I couldn’t let anyone else have that dildo. And even knowing that, the thought of giving it back made me sick to my stomach.

It was mine and only mine. If that meant I lost my job, I lost my job. There were plenty of jobs at the North Pole, but no other cocks like that in the entire world. I didn’t need to see them all to know that was a fact. This one was special, and I was never letting it go.