?Dear people who get upset when FFF is too “tame:” You’re going to consider this week’s installment to be tame. That’s your problem, not mine. If you can’t see the horror in this story by smjaygal — about one of Santa’s buxom yet somehow mannish elves, who fucks Frosty the Snowman — then I suggest that you have issues, not me.

I throw my alarm clock at the wall shattering it to pieces. Damned Christmas carols and their damned cheer waking me up to another day of bright smiley elf-faces. Why did I have to be born a friggin’ elf to make toys for ungrateful, unbelieving kids? They think their parents are really Santa because that’s what the adults have been saying recently. The truth of the matter is, the parents want to look like they control everything when in reality, they have absolutely no idea how those toys get under the Christmas tree each year. Some have even resorted to doing exactly what they say, putting Santa out of a job.

Ho ho ho hop over the jump to continue.

This story was sent in by Topless Roboteer Savannah, who ensured that her stocking will get filled with coal for that heinous act. And when I say “her stocking will be filled with coal,” of course I mean “she’ll probably be assaulted by a Care Bear.”

As

I cram my legs into these stupid guy pants, I contemplate with contempt

the extremes the rest of us have had to resort to these past

Christmases. Santa has figured out how to own pretty much all of the

major toy companies. Those human heads the humans hear about? Elves with

plastic surgery. It was so laughably easy. In fact, my cousin Pedro did

all the work. Maybe he could give me plastic surgery for breasts and a

serious ass. Maybe there’s even plastic surgery for a more feminine

attitude? If there was, I would’ve asked for it a long time ago.

Anyone think the author could’ve possibly been laid off by Hasbro or Mattel at some point?

I

brush out my longish black hair, contemplating my sexual image for the

past how many hundreds of years. In the North Pole, sexuality is

ambiguous. Plenty of guys look feminine and there are plenty of

hermaphrodites out there. But rarely do you get a girl who looks

masculine. I’m that exception.

Anyone think the author could’ve possibly been laid off by Hasbro or Mattel at some point because he kept talking about how the North Pole is full of hermaphrodites?

My

bright green eyes glare back at me with contempt. I wish I wasn’t so

muscular or I had a softer face. I wish I didn’t love playing football

with the boys or mucking about with the reindeer like a boy. Girls like

making things, not wrestling around in muddy snow like me.

As a boy, I feel I should point out that wresting in the muddy snow sounds like it fucking sucks. Also “girls making things” is weirdly vague. What do girls like to make? Dresses? Babies? Food for men?

I

peek outside my door – no one’s come to get me yet so I’m safe… for

now. I tug off my loose top and undo the binding on my chest, allowing

for my breasts to leap forth, young and perky. I hate they’re only a 40 C

and my butt’s only a size five. If I were larger, I wouldn’t be

mistaken for a boy. Maybe then I could get seriously considered as a

fuckbuddy.

First thing: If you have 40C tits and are being mistaken for a male, you have serious issues that larger breasts will not solve. Second thing: Wanting to be “seriously considered” as a “fuckbuddy”? You should try to aim a little higher, large-breasted man-woman-elf.

I

rebind my small chest, depressed. Fucking is part of the Christmas

spirit – it’s what keeps everyone so cheery all year long. I’m sad I’m a

900 year old virgin… and still counting.

No, it’s sad that you believe fucking at Christmas makes people happy for an entire year. Only booze does that, silly!

I

stuff my hair into the stupid wig I made a while back so I didn’t get

into any weird conversations. Believe me, things could get really

awkward turtles when the girls were flirting on my only to find out I

was female, too. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just

didn’t want to have to explain everything to them and face their pity.

But I want to be a recognizable girl today, much as that could turn

sour. Whatever, I’m going for it.

There are so many weird gender issues in this paragraph alone that I think I heard Sigmund Freud coming down my chimney. While explaining the chimney is also a penis.

I unbind my breasts, cupping them in a lacy black push up bra. I tug on a matching thong. On second thought….

“…I’ll just wear the hobo clown suit.”

I

grab the rest of what I want to wear and head to the bathroom. I climb

into the tub to shave my pussy. If I’m going to do this and catch a

fuckbuddy, I’m going to go all out. When I’m done, I squirt some essence

of peppermint up my vagina, nearly doubling over from the heat

radiating from my core. It’s been so long since I last touched myself

and I’m horny as all hell…

I don’t have a vagina, so I’m just going out on a limb here, but maybe you’re doubled over in pain because you stuck peppermint oil up your vagina, lady. Because that sounds like it would sting a great, great deal.

I decide against it. Guys can smell arousal a mile away, so I’ll leave it as is. That way, I could possibly get a really naughty fuckbuddy. The thought makes me smile.

So what was the point of sticking a peppermint in your hoohah if you just wanted to smell like vaginal lubricant? Jesus. Also, guys can’t smell arousal a mile away. They can smell bacon a mile away.

I

dress in a short black skirt that barely covers my bum with matching

legging and a silver chain. I’ll stand out from all those other little

wenches in their pretty little knee-length red skirts with the fluffy

white fur on the bottom. I never liked those things. I decide to ditch

the bra, wearing instead a skin tight white button-down that hugs my

erect nipples, revealing every detail. I even unbutton it a little too

far to reveal the tops of my supple breasts.

Remember way back at the beginning of this story, when this elf was somehow mannish? Have we switched stories somewhere? What the hell is going on?

To

top everything off, I twist my hair up in a quite feminine manner, even

using a red ribbon. I smear white cream all over the nape of my neck

that gives off an impossibly intoxicating scent that makes boys’ penises

poke out. I put on only a dab of lip gloss so I don’t look totally easy. I have no idea why I didn’t think of this before!

So… you look like a cheap prostitute without a lot of lip gloss on. Got it. Also, if you wanted to smell like that white cream, why didn’t you shove that in your vagina instead?

I

give my nipples a quick squeeze before exiting my quarters for

breakfast. This causes them to bud like little roses. I’m pleased to see

several eyes follow me, clenching legs, and more than one guy with his

penis in my direction. Score one for me. I might just get a fuckbuddy

yet!

?

After

breakfast, I decide to update my good friend Frosty on my new sexual

sense of power. He lives in the candy cane forest because he’s not an

elf like the rest of us. But he’s my best friend ever nonetheless.

Elves are snowmen racists? This is new information to me.

I

blast of frigid air greets me, making my breasts stand totally on end,

tightening my shirt almost to the splitting point. The cold really gets

me off, especially this close to Christmas. But I trudge on in my black

leather flats. Pretty

soon, I’m getting less horny because it’s too hot, so I pull off my

leggings, exposing my boobs to the frigid air in the process. A breeze

blows up my skirt, tickling my sensitive areas and making me almost

orgasm with pleasure. I continue on anyways. I have to show Frosty.

I assume this is written by a guy, but even a guy whose most intimate sexual encounter has been with Pornhub.com should know that stiff breezes don’t generally bring women to orgasm. I feel like this was written by some 16-year-old virgin alien or something.

Eventually,

I reach Frosty’s house. I didn’t realize just how much I missed the

guy. I’m sad he’s literally a man of snow or I would have raped him out

of sheer desperation by now. He probably couldn’t properly fuck me if he

wanted to. “Hey, Frosty,” I call. “Hey, I’ve got good news!”

“It’s me, your mannish lady elf friend, dressed up as prostitute from the ’80s!”

No

answer. Whatever. I’m used to this. I continue anyways, “I dressed like

a girl today, like you’re always telling me to. It worked! Guys were

falling everywhere to get in my skirt! I just had to show you!”

That’s not true. We read about your entire journey to Frosty’s house, and there were no male elves at all, let alone ones that were attracted to you. Are you lying to Frosty, or are you lying to yourself as well, Man-Christmas-Elf-Woman?

No answer. “Fine, Frosty, you bastard, I’ll masturbate right here!”

And that is not a reasonable course of action when people don’t answer the door. Lady, you need to see if Santa’s Workshop provides some kind of mental health benefits pronto.

Still

no answer. Fine. I lie on my back in the cold snow and moan in pain and

pleasure at the iciness. I revel in the lovely stinging it brings to my

skin.

I’ve been with my share of ladies, and — forgive me for making a gross generalization here — not one of them has ever been aroused by cold. They wouldn’t even look at me funny if I didn’t keep the thermostat above 68 degrees, let alone bring the snugglebunnies. While I’m sure there have to be a few women who enjoy cold weather to a certain degree, I have to admit, I’m guessing the number of women who receive sexual pleasure from laying naked in the snow tops out somewhere in the low 00s.

Then

I feel something between my legs and look up to see Frosty’s gleaming,

elegant body above mine. Oh, he looks so regal in the sparkling

sunlight.

Uh-oh. I think we’re about to learn why Frosty was such a jolly happy soul.

I

begin to speak but he puts a hand over my mouth, undoing my buttons to

expose my supple breasts to the frosty air. They perk out, my nipples

hardening and suddenly, much slower than my body does, I know what’s

going to happen. “Frost, no-” but I’m cut off by snow.

Frosty the Snowman

Is a fairy tale they say

He was made of snow



But the children know



How he raped that girl that day

Snow

pins me down, keeping me from moving or screaming. I’m in bondage, his

prisoner, his slave. His icy mouth meets my eager nipple and I cum all

over the snow. “Bad

little fuckwhore. Now I’m gonna punish you for being such and easy

little slut. I’m gonna fuck you like no snowman has ever fucked an elf

before.”

Seems like being an easy little slut would make her a good little fuckwhore, but I admit I’m not up the latest fuckwhore professional standards.

Oh no, Frosty! NO! And

then he slaps me, hard. My ass stings and I find myself begging for

more. I’m on my knees like a dog, getting smacked for being such a

naughty little cunt. The pleasure is intensified by that pain in my

butt. Oh, please, hit harder, Frosty. Harder!

Thumpety thump thump

Thumpety thump



Look at Frosty go

That’s

when I see it… Frosty the Snowman’s penis. It’s snow white and looks

like ice; something clear and gooey leaks from the tip. Cum? If he

aroused? It makes my walls tighten just seeing it. He

shoves the whole thing down my throat, nearly choking me but it tastes

great! Like gingerbread or pumpkin. There’s definitely cinnamon in

there. Yum! Best icecile I’ve ever tasted.

I hope children know not to play under that icicle, because it may fall and injure them. Also, it’s a penis.

He

moves in and out, leaving me disappointed when he’s exited but excited

to see him coming back for more. His hand has my hair and is jerking my

head back and forth to meet his massive size. Cinnamon-y awesomeness is

dripping down my hair. Who knew getting raped by Frosty would turn out

like this?

Frosty the Snowman

Was alive as he could be

And the children say

He could cum and rape

Just the same as you and me

“Scream my name, cunt,” I feel his icy breath on my cheek. “You were so eager before. SCREAM MY NAME!”

?

But

I don’t give him the satisfaction. I suck his frosty dick instead. In

frustration, he flips me on my back to begin to cuff me harder, my

breasts this time, screaming profanities. Frosty, hit me harder! I

moan like an animal but it’s not enough. Frost pulls off my thong,

making me scream but not in fear. It’s a deadly combination of pain and

pleasure. I’m done with fear, with insecurity. I’m done with virginity

altogether.

Yeah, I can see how getting raped by a snowman would really cure you of all your sexual insecurities. It’s a shame more people don’t try it.

“Frosty!” I scream. “Take me! Take all of me! FUCK ME!” He smirks, sucking the already sore, erect nipple, causing it to bleed a little. “No.” What?! Please, Frosty. Please. I want your shaft inside me so bad right now it hurts. Fuck me, Frosty. Fuck me good and hard. Instead,

he begins to lick my cunt, massaging the mound methodically with his

tongue of ice, “Say my whole name, little whole. All of it.”

His tongue’s gonna stick and someone will have to call a teacher

I explode with ecstasy. “FROSTY! FUCK ME, FROSTY THE SNOWMAN!” He

smirks against my skin but continues anyways, the bastard. He pushes

his tongue inches into my opening, causing me to scream even louder than

before. God, it feels SOOO good. Why did I wait 900 years to be taken? His

fist slams into me without warning, causing more screaming and orgasmic

shaking from me. The pain! Throbs of unbearable pangs of ice and

blinding pain beyond all description radiate from the place Frosty has

his whole fist inside me. It becomes ten times worse but also unbearably

better when he wiggles his fingers all around.

There must have been some magic in that old silk hat they found

Because when they placed it on his head he began to fist a mentally imbalanced Christmas elf dressed like a whore

He

bites my nipple, sucking and wiggles around in my with his hand, making

me scream for the release his prick will give. But I’m denied yet

again. Instead, I’m shoved against a candy cane tree and held erect by

snow. Snow enters my vagina and ice penetrates my ass.

Thumpety thump thump

Thumpety thump



Fuck her in both holes



But it’s not ice! It’s really… Frosty! He moves in and out with the rhythm of a pro. Has he fucked others? It’s no surprise considering what a cool guy he is and all….

For the pun, obviously.

My

ass clenches around the massive ice-cock I can barely take half of.

Then he stops playing around and shoves the whole thing in up to his

balls, impaling my vagina on a candy cane and causing me to cry.

Callously, he just humps me, rides me like a dog, cold sperm tearing my

torso in two.

Okay, stop. Just stop. None of this makes any sense even by the tenuous reality of a Christmas elf getting fucked by a snowman. The elf has been shoved against a Candy Cane Tree, while Frosty seemingly fucks her vaginally and anally simultaneously — I’m assuming that being a snowman, Frosty can produce two cocks, of course. Then the Elf says she has an ice cock in her ass, but then Frosty “shoves the whole thing in up to his

balls, impaling my vagina on a candy cane.”

What the hell? Is Frosty’s second cock a candy cane? Did it turn from snow into a candy cane? Was he only fucking her anally, with one cock, but the act of fucking her caused a candy cane from the Candy Cane Tree to somehow get lodged in her vagina? And if so, why would a candy cane in her twat make her cry, when 1) she has a “massive ice-cock” pounding away at her ass and 2) she already stuck peppermint oil in there anyways?

SIR, I DOUBT THE VERISIMILITUDE OF YOUR FROSTY THE SNOWMAN RAPE FIC.

Just

about when I’m going to shoot my juices everywhere, Frosty impales me

where it matters. He spikes his dick with icicles and humps me. He

thrusts faster and faster, harder and harder, grazing my walls. I scream

his name loud enough for Santa Claus to hear in his castle, overlooking

the whole world.

And here’s what disturbs me more than anything else in this story: Santa has a castle?

Finally, when Frosty’s finished shooting his load, he lays me gently in the snow, careful of my tender red skin.

What do you think snowman semen is like? Is it water? More snow? Shaved ice? Does it look like a tiny snowblower when it comes out?

“That was fucking amazing,” I sigh. He nods in silent agreement as is his way. I

didn’t realize until today how much I had really care for this loving

god of snow, this creature of ice. I also hadn’t realized how bad I had

wanted exactly what had just transpired between us.

“Or that I would be talking to Chris Meloni and Mariska Hartigay in just a few hours.”

I

can’t myself admiring his regal physique, his toned body and washboard

abs. I almost cum again thinking about his taste. Mmm…

pumpkin/gingerbread-y goodness in a wonderfully cold icecicle.

Frosty the Snowman has washboard abs

Frosty the Snowman has washboard abs

Frosty the Snowman has washboard abs

Frosty the Snowman has washboard abs

Frosty the Snowman has washboard abs

“Are you pissed with me?” he asks shyly. “Nope,” I respond, climbing to lay on top of my snowy friend. He looks skeptical, “Not in the least?” I smile, “No, darling. I needed that.” Needless to say, I finally wound up on Santa’s good ‘Naughty List’.

Frosty the Rapist

Had to hurry on his way

But he said goodbye

Saying don’t you cry

If you tell anyone I’ll kill you

?

Merry Christmas, everybody!