I've been a very naughty elf. My mischievous adventures have got me into a heap of trouble with the big man in red.

Busy, busy, busy. The workshop is always a flurry of activity with elves painting trucks and stuffing toy bears. And every toy was destined to be packed in Santa's bag because Christmas was only a few days away.

My name is Jingle Sue. My job is to decorate all the sparkling doll clothes. Every rhinestone and every sequin is hand-sewed into place by my little hands.

But, shhh, I'm kinda naughty. Don't tell Santa on me.

Up here in the North Pole, we watch a lot of YouTube videos.

One night I was scrolling and came upon a video called Candy Cane Lane and the Hard Pole. Being innocent, I thought it was some sort of sport. Ha ha. It was a sport all right.

A beautiful woman dressed in nothing but well-placed jeweled tassels was spinning and flipping around a long brass pole while men watched and tossed money onto the stage as she performed. I was enthralled, and instantly wanted to be that woman enchanting the men with her body as she twisted and slid up and down the pole. 

That video was the catalyst for me to become a pole dancer. I knew I had to be careful because elves are held to very high expectations. We are allowed to mate of course. Elves love sex and we breed like rabbits, but I’m in no rush for a mate. 

If I could become a pole dancer, I might just leave the North Pole altogether and set off on a new adventure. My first goal was to secure the pole and a secret place to practice. I had to be discreet.

I also knew I might need to use my sexy, elven charm. I had to start at the forge because Smithy could conjure up what I needed. A smile crossed my face. The only payment he would require would be a sloppy wet blow job, a small price to pay and well worth it. 

The forge was on the outskirts of the village, and the sound of metal being transformed rang clearly as I drew near. Smithy, well-toned, dark-skinned, and shirtless, looked up as I walked in. Sweat dripped down his nose. He was from Scotland, and his accent always made my pussy cream. 

“Hey, lass,” he said. “What brings you to my forge?” 

I leaned over the small work table to flash a healthy amount of cleavage his way. My voice dripped like sweet honey. “Well, Smithy, I kinda need something made.” 

Smithy leaned in close, his eyes on my swelling breasts. He swallowed hard and reached down to rub the ache in his pants. “Tell me,” he said. 

I took out my phone and showed him the pole. 

“A stripper pole, lass?” 

I unbuttoned my shirt so he could see my hard, pink nipples. I almost had him. “Yes, I'm going to learn how to use it. I want more, Smithy. I don't want to be just a doll decorator elf. I want to be a stripper.” 

Smithy leaned in close. “Suck my cock, and I will have it for you within a day.” 

“Deal,” I said.

Smithy pulled his thick stubby cock out of his leather pants. More than happy to give a wet sloppy blow job to get my pole, I dropped to my knees and drooled and slobbered up and down his cock.

My tongue circled his raw wood as I glided up and down. His strong hands on my head pushed me down and I gagged. He moaned, then splattered his milky load down my eager throat. 

He fixed his cock back in his pants. “Where do you want the pole, you sexy treat?” 

I had the answer. “There’s an empty room at the back of the toy car department. No one goes there. Can you install it without anyone seeing you?” 

“I’ll manage. Now go before the Mrs. comes back.” 

I ran back to my little house. All night I gathered and sewed a glittering, sparkling, sexy, outfit. It turned out just as I had hoped, fitting my body in all the right places. That night I dreamed of men from all around the world traveling to see me, Jingle the Stripper Elf. 

The next day, I was working in the design room when Smithy walked in. He didn't say a word, but winked and left. My heart raced. He had done it! 

After work, I waited until everyone went home for the night and the toy room was empty with only Christmas music playing overhead. I was so excited. I opened the door and there it was, my stripper pole, standing fixed to the floor and ceiling.

I spent the next three weeks practicing. I slid and twirled my body up and down and all around the pole, rubbing against it in sexual ways as I polished the pole with my freshly shaved pussy. Finally, I felt ready to try on the outfit. I stripped down to nothing and, with shaking hands, I slipped on the sheer, sex-enticing latex. I slithered up and down the pole, my legs holding me as I rubbed my clit and imagined men jacking off as they watched. 

Just as I was about to come, my outfit ripped and exposed my body...

“For the love of Rudolph's Red Nose. My cock is about to cream the hot chocolate!” 

I froze. Santa was watching me and I had just flashed him my naked body.

“Jingle,” Santa said. “You are a very naughty elf. Come sit on my pole.”