"So, the vice squad has been disbanded, and you'll all be working for the vibe squad starting tomorrow."
The room fell silent, aside from a stray fart that echoed around the room. It seemed to sum up what had been said so perfectly.
The police chief was a powerful man, more like a character from a movie than in charge of a northern town ravaged by the loss of its industrial roots. His announcement had been shocking, but those who knew realised it was an act of anger toward those he held responsible for his misfortune.
"His missus chose her vibe collection over him, and he's lost the plot," a young officer said, having been told the news by his masseur.
Within twenty-four hours, all of the roads into town had armed checkpoints and a dodgy burger van beside it to keep those manning the security posts fed. The chief had also briefed the hit squads, and they knew exactly what was expected.
"Everything. If it looks like it's a fanny or arse-pleaser, we're seizing it. Any batteries? We're taking them too. You'll need a certificate or a note from your mum to get a battery from now on."
Those who tried to derail the chief's plans were made to watch the destruction of the vibe mountain that rose into the sky after just a few hours.
The town was no stranger to ridicule, and its inhabitants felt this would give the world another opportunity. Being the only town with a particular crude euphemism for lady bits in it throughout the entire world made it good at defending itself, but the chief had done something that could end civilisation as people knew it. It was insane.
It was approaching Christmas, so much of the chatter around town was about that, although the chief's bitter plan of lunacy was also on the agenda.
"I never thought I'd see the day when my town became a strummer's nightmare. He'll be putting tracking devices on my fingers and delivering electric shocks if they go near my clit next!" Stacey said to her friend Alexa at the bus stop. Alexa had tried most things, but even she had never fancied giving frying her fanny a go.
Whilst it had its detractors, the town had a few notable people who stuck by it. Locals didn't treat them like gods. They were people, and anyone who got up themselves soon got sent packing.
"Hi, Santa, how are you? You must be shagged out at this time of year." Stacey said as Father Christmas popped out from his bedsit to get some lubricant and teabags.
"Not bad, Stacey. How are things at your end?" Santa asked, having been reminded of how nice her rear end looked in tight jeans as soon as he had seen her.
"A bit shit really. This vibe nonsense is a nightmare, and it's nearly fucking Christmas too." Stacey said, quickly realising Santa probably knew what was scheduled to happen, presents and piss-up-wise, soon.
Stacey smiled and gave Santa a hug, although all the vibe drama did make her feel tempted to give the bearded blowjob master more than a squeeze.
"Listen, Stacey, all I can say is 'trust me.' The fewer people who know, the better, but I won't let the women of this town down. I promise you on my life and that cracking arse of yours," Santa said. as he went on his way to get the essentials he'd popped out for, whilst wishing he was popping his cock into Stacey's back door instead.
Stacey felt if Santa was on the case, there was hope, and she ran home to strum the theme tune to Eastenders on her clit to celebrate.
Though Stacey knew Santa was up to his bollocks with work, she decided to send him an email. Santa and Stacey exchanged emails from time to time, although sometimes Santa was a bit pissed when he wrote them. Even though this was true, Santa's outrageous suggestions turned Stacey on when she read them, and, in happier times, she'd have had her vibe out faster than you could say 'climax.'
'Hi, Suckychops, I know you'll be too busy to pop down and sort me out, but the girls of this town would be queuing around the block to let you have your wicked way with them if they knew what I know. I'm going to have a wild night with my fingers while I've still got some skin left on them, but I'll keep my knickers on. I'll give my dirty pants to you next time I see you, and you can put them on your head like you usually do." Stacey typed.
Santa knew he should get some shuteye, but Stacey's email had him harder than a diamond chastity belt, and he was in Stacey's flat within ten minutes.
Copping a feel of Stacey's arse, having her chops around his tackle, and sniffing her pants as he wore them on his head? Santa had experienced worse evenings, for sure.
Santa's schedule was hectic. but he sorted everything out with the nonchalance of the professional he was. Stacey knew what was planned but had kept her promise to stay silent, even though doing so and the vibe ban made her feel as if she might explode at any minute. She didn't.
Christmas Eve was a bit messy, but Stacey managed to steer clear of the catfights and brawls amongst the frustrated women of the town. She went to bed early but couldn't resist a quickie and strummed to a picture of Santa, her hero, in her head.
Stacey had planned to get up early, so the sound of commotion in the street didn't annoy her as it might have done. She threw on some clothes and went outside and saw the streets piled high with boxes stacked neatly on top of one another.
"One hundred thousand kisses from Santa,' each box said on it, the number being that of the vibrators and battery packs inside the boxes that almost blocked out the sun.
Though it was Christmas Day, the townsfolk felt sure the security forces and the vibe squad would be mobilised to quell the unrest and seize the glorious gifts dropped from heaven if they could. Luckily, Santa had thought of this, and whilst sparing a thousand elves on the big night had been tricky, it ensured every vibrator was off the streets and into homes in no time.
Elves are, by nature, placid and peaceful, but those in the cursed town chased everyone involved in creating and maintaining the chief's wicked scheme into the wilderness. The elves erased these people's memories of their wickedness using a magic potion made of latex and body fluids, too.
Christmas Day was a little different in town on this occasion. The streets were deserted; dinners were rescheduled for late evening, at the earliest, and the menfolk stayed out of the way and peeled vegetables or kept children amused until the festival of thrust had subsided.
Santa did a walkabout for the townsfolk on Boxing Day, his elves making sure he didn't get mobbed and fucked senseless by the excited inhabitants.
Once the media started to show up, Santa slipped away to his nearest safehouse, and Stacey greeted him with a weary smile after a very busy day at home.
When Stacey put her session knickers over Santa's face, she smiled and gave him a blow job. The town felt as if all of their Christmases had come at once. Santa did so many times; Stacey and her sodden knickers made sure of that.
