Podcasts about Black Pete

Interracial Marriage is critical to the reasons for a priesthood/temple ban on black LDS Church members. For many years, the official position of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) was that “it is not known precisely why, how, or when this restriction [on the priesthood for male members of African descent] began in the church.” However, historical research utilizing early records suggests that the origins of the ban are quite specific, pointing to a confluence of events involving race and interracial sexual relations (often called “amalgamation” or “miscegenation” at the time) that served as the primary catalyst. https://youtu.be/V3DtkTfLazM Don't miss our other conversations on the priesthood ban: https://gospeltangents.com/mormon_history/racial-priesthood-temple-ban/ Copyright © 2025 Gospel Tangents All Rights Reserved 0:00 Meet Stassi Cram Priesthood Before the Prejudice (1830–1846) Contradicting later restrictions, evidence shows that Black men held the priesthood and participated in temple ordinances during the earliest decades of the Church. Black Pete, the first Black convert, was baptized in 1830 and served a mission in Ohio, likely performing baptisms in January 1831. Elijah Abel, perhaps the most famous early Black Mormon, was ordained an Elder and then a Seventy in 1836, received his washing and anointing ordinance in the Kirtland Temple, and participated in baptisms for the dead in the 1840s. Joseph Ball was ordained a high priest and served as a branch president in Lowell, Massachusetts, after Joseph Smith’s death in 1844. Ball was also slated to receive his temple endowment in Nauvoo in 1845. Walker Lewis, baptized in 1843, was ordained an Elder by William Smith, and was later referred to by Brigham Young in 1847 as “one of the best elders an African in Lowell,” [Massachusetts.] Furthermore, marriage between Black and white members was not automatically prohibitive; John Teague, a white Irishman, joined the church in 1842 with his Black wife, Evelyn Wilbur, and John was ordained a priest and then an elder. These facts confirm that no formal priesthood restrictions existed before 1847. Interracial Marriage Crisis of 1847 The shift from granting the priesthood to prohibiting it appears to have been driven by the highly visible, controversial interracial relationships of two Black elders in 1846 and 1847. Warner McCary and Interracial Polygamy: McCary, a freed slave who claimed to be part Indian, was baptized by Apostle Orson Hyde in 1846. Some believe he was ordained an Elder, but this is disputed. In 1847, McCary married Lucy Stanton, a white woman, with Orson Hyde performing the wedding. McCary later caused outrage in Winter Quarters by engaging in “sealing ceremonies” with white women that included sexual intercourse witnessed by his wife. Church leaders quickly expelled McCary from the camp. Brigham Young expressed concern about “amalgamation,” or race mixing, during a meeting where McCary was discussed. Enoch Lewis and the Mixed-Race Child: Simultaneously, in Massachusetts, Enoch Lewis (son of Elder Q. Walker Lewis) married Matilda Webster, a white woman, in 1846, and they had a mixed-race infant girl in 1847. Mission president William Applebee was so disgusted upon meeting the couple and their child that he wrote a dismayed report to Brigham Young asking if it was “the order of God to be tolerated in this church to ordain negroes to the priesthood” and allow amalgamation. When Brigham Young received Applebee’s report in October 1847, he responded strongly, stating that when Black and White people “mingle seed it is death to all” and that if they were far away from non-Mormons, they would “all be killed.” Following these cases, Brigham Young privately claimed that “black-white sexual relations were against the law of God and advocated death to all who participated.” This reaction was fueled by a desire to stop interracial marriage & led to the institutional restriction. The ban was publicly affirmed on February 15, 1852, when Brigham Young addressed the Utah territorial legislature and espoused the Curse of Cain doctrine, stating that the mark of Cain “is seen in the face of every negro on the earth” and declaring that any man “having one drop of seed of Cain in him cannot hold the priesthood.” Elephant in the Room: Racism While interracial relationships may have been the catalyst that triggered the ban, many argue that this analysis ignores the underlying issue: pre-existing racial prejudice. Marguerite Driessen notes, “interracial marriage can cause no problems and it can result in no bad consequences at all unless there’s already racial prejudice to begin with.” The underlying racism allowed church leaders to: Ignore precedents like Elijah Abel's ordination. Contort accepted doctrine to justify exclusion. For example, the Second Article of Faith states that humans will be punished for their own sins, not Adam’s transgression, yet the priesthood ban relied on the “curse of Cain,” effectively punishing Black individuals for the sins of an ancestor. The notion of “accursed lineage” derived from the Book of Abraham’s account of Egyptus, which was used to justify denying saving ordinances based solely on lineage, a factor over which people have “no agency or control.” Thus, the events of 1847-1852 did not create the prejudice, but rather offered a convenient, concrete focus for leaders to impose restrictions that many members and leaders were already culturally inclined to accept. The ban was the result of church policy, not doctrine, and was maintained because the congregation was unwilling to fully accept equality until the 1978 revelation ended the restriction.

Miracle On Route 34: Part 1 Ginny gets a wonderful Christmas surprise. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Author's Notes: Someone asked me to write a funny and erotic Christmas tale, but since I can't be normal, it is taking on a radical twist that I hope people will find amusing. I've tried to make Santa awesome but also give him some flaws that the ladies will find both charming and irksome all at once. I wasn't going to call it anything lame like 'Here Cums Santa Claus' (in spite of my love of Elvis) so I eventually settled on ripping off a classic and beloved Christmas movie, naming it 'Miracle On Rural Road 34'. Couldn't help myself with the 'Yes, Virginia' quip, of course. As for Superman, Oatmeal and the Easter Bunny, well, get used to more groaners like that, because I like them. Merry ho-ho and keep your stick on the ice! , Management Chapter 1. Ginny Hale sighed forlornly as she sat on her chesterfield in the dim room, the only light provided by the crackling fireplace and some scented candles spread around to make the house smell like gingerbread. She'd made gingerbread cookies earlier, but they were predictably burnt and now her kitchen smelled like a Christmas elf's ass. She took another sip of red wine from her oversized glass, unable to decide who or what to be mad at, the weather, for bringing this god-awful blizzard on Christmas Eve, her so-called friends for ditching her after she'd gone to all this work to put together a nice party, or herself for going crazy and buying this (admittedly nice) chateau way out here in the boondocks. Still relatively new to her negotiator position, Ginny had landed a huge deal for the company she worked for and the payout bonus was one of the biggest ever seen in-house. Though she had an office, she had often worked from her cramped apartment downtown, where a glorious chaos only she understood reigned. But the payout had been large enough for her to purchase a very pretty home in the country, not more than ninety minutes from work. Her boss was so pleased with the deal that he said she only had to come in once a week, to pick up whatever she needed to work on. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now she found she was quite lonely. Few people were will to put forth the effort to come out and visit her. In fact, only three had since the summer when she bought it. Hell, even her boy-toy, Chad from Accounting, could not be bothered and was now just fucking Lily in the secretary pool instead. Bing Crosby was singing 'White Christmas' to her while she moped. The big bay windows to her back porch showed the fury of the storm outside. Driving snow had been battering the countryside for two days now and her boss had called her to just stay safe and not try to come into the city. He was a nice old man and she liked him. He'd actually taken a chance and given her the job, after she'd fucked him. She hadn't invited him to her little soiree, because his miserable old bat of a wife was hovering around him constantly these days, certain he'd been tipping on her. But even without Old Man Reese, she'd invited upward of twenty people and none of them had shown. Not even Claire, her best supposed friend, had made it out. She was probably too busy being pinned and screwed by her boyfriend anyway, Guido or Nunzio or whatever his name was. Dean Martin came on, singing 'Marshmallow World'. Normally this was one of her favorites, but tonight it just reminded her that she was alone for Christmas. Again. With another sigh, she drank the rest of the wine in her glass and reached for the bottle, turning it over. It was empty. Damn. She'd have to open another one. She walked slowly into the kitchen, wearing her ratty old fox-themed footie pajamas, having decided that if she didn't have to dress up for anyone, she was dressing at all. She took a deep drink of spiked egg nog from the jug of it she'd prepared while she found another bottle of zinfandel and burped very loudly. She wrestled the cork off of the bottle and poured most of the contents into her oversized glass, muttering that she didn't have to answer to anyone about what she did, she was a big girl. She slumped back down on the couch while John Lennon asked her what she'd done for Christmas from the stereo system. "Up yours, John;" she said testily as she drank more wine. She stood unsteadily, blinking for a moment to try and clear her head. She might have had a bit of a wine fog going on, since she'd nearly polished off two bottles of Old Vine Zinfandel in under two hours. Convincing herself that walking was not a bad idea, she tottered over to the bay windows, reaching a hand out in front of herself to make sure it encountered the glass before her face did. "Will you look at that shit out there;" she muttered to no one in particular. After all, there was no one around to hear her. Well, almost no one. "Hi, Oatmeal," she said sweetly, grinning lopsidedly at the bearded dragon that sat in a terrarium near the bay doors. "Looks like you're my Christmas date; again;" The tiny lizard said nothing but assumed a darker shade of purplish brown. "Same to you too, bugface." Ginny muttered sourly, annoyed at being spurned by a reptile with a brain smaller than a sugared peanut. She lumbered back to the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to eat several pieces of the Turkish Delight she'd tried to make, but they were sticky and runny, most of the reddish-pink mess ending up stuck to the front of her pajamas. "Son of a fucking reindeer!" she spat, attempting to remove the pajamas, her sticky fingers having trouble with the zipper. She finally kicked the thing off and left it in a corner of the kitchen, now wearing nothing except her panties and a halter top. She stomped back into the spacious living room, thoroughly annoyed. While the music played, she looked around for something to do, taking another pull from the egg nog jug she'd brought with her. The hot tub. It sat near the bay windows, set into the floor and was large enough for five or six people. She'd been hoping that maybe a few people of the dozens she'd invited would show and maybe they could have a fun pool party. She'd even told everyone in the invitations to bring their swimsuits. But of course, no one showed. She was beginning to suspect she could live in Buckingham Fucking Palace and still no one would come to see her. This was, literally, the fifth Christmas she'd spent by herself. The timing for friends never worked out and her parents were always off in Monaco or some such place, avoiding the weather. Her mom had already called earlier that night, so she wouldn't hear any more from them for a few days now. She sighed yet again and pulled off her underthings, stepping into the water. She was drunker than she wanted to admit, though, missing her footing, squealing and tumbling into the tub with a splash. Ginny came to the surface, sputtering and hissing in outrage. Why couldn't anything work out? Oatmeal just stared at her impassively. "You win this time, gravity;" she growled, displeased with her inelegant entrance. Well, at least she'd been smart enough to put down the jug of nog before trying to get in. She turned on the jets and retrieved her beverage, taking another big pull as the tub rumbled to life. Ginny laid back her head against one of the padded rests and tried to relax, to let her frustrations go. She turned on the jets and allowed one to massage her lower back while sipping at a glass of wine. She tried to put the frustrations of the holiday behind her, to let go of the feelings of rejection and somehow not belonging. "Why did I but this new fucking home if no one was interested in visiting? Everyone said they thought it was so great, but months later, still no visitors. Do I really not matter that much?" It annoyed her to think not only that she was alone, but that doubtless most of the people who had ditched her were at home getting laid. Claire was doubtless face down and ass up on her bed, getting plowed from behind by Guido. Even Mr. Reese, the old geezer, was probably getting some, either from his wife or maybe one of his secretaries. She sighed heavily and sat up, putting her now-empty wine glass aside and deciding that just because she was alone on Christmas Eve didn't mean she wasn't owed at least one good orgasm. She leaned forward and rested her forearms on the padded edge of the hot tub, positioning herself so that one of her jets, the one she'd named 'Juan', was right behind her. She felt the flow of water begin to caress her and she rested her head on her forearms as she wiggled further back, feeling the jet more strongly now as it pushed against her ass and her cunt. With a sigh, she found the perfect distance and pressed her face down into her arms, letting Juan work his magic. Water pressure massaged her cunt lips, strong enough to part them and to tease her clit, sending thrills through her. She shuddered and sighed loudly, forgetting, for now, how much men sucked. She bit the knuckle of her index finger, lost in reverie. God, if only it were a man fucking her. "Alone; on fucking Christmas; where's, ah!, where's the justice in that?" She was sweating now and panting as the relentless jets battered her nether tinglies, the sensations overwhelming her steadily. She clenched her teeth and her fists, straining as she fought to hold on a little longer. She moaned very loudly, her whole body shaking as Juan delivered a wonderful orgasm. She panted and groaned shamelessly, knowing that no one was around to see her in her pent-up, frustrated lust, expending it on her Jacuzzi jets. The scintillating lights behind her eyes, however, were over all too quickly and the climax subsided, replaced by a juddering sensitivity that made Juan's caress too much to bear. She collapsed against the edge of the hot tub, moving her ass away from the jet. "Alone; again;" She may have needed the orgasm, but it did nothing to improve her mood. It didn't help that the song 'This Christmas' by Shoes had begun playing as the cumming ended. When it finally felt like her legs would work again, she turned around and slumped into a corner of the tub, as far from Juan as possible. Ginny stayed still for some time, until her feet and fingers felt that annoying level of pruny that made everything awful to touch. With the heat of the water and all the alcohol she'd drunk, she was feeling rather light-headed, so she turned off the stereo and shut off the lights. She found a plate of her fucked-up and burnt gingerbread cookies and left them on a table near the fireplace along with the jug of nog before beginning to head upstairs to bed. "Yeah. Fuck this day. And fuck tomorrow too. Maybe if I stay drunk enough it'll just fly by. Fuck Christmas." The second floor was an open space in the middle, looking down onto the main floor. A set of stairs led up on either side and the bedrooms were spaced around the gallery. She'd loved the design when she bought it, but this only increased her frustration when no one ever came to visit. "Gorgeous fucking house; ten acres of beautiful nature filled with deer and ugly-ass wild turkeys; a fucking pond people could skate on; shit, I even found a patch of landrace back there! What's not to love about my new home? Why aren't people shitting themselves in jealousy?" She reached the master bedroom, sighing at how big it felt since she had no one to share it with. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her naked body and sighing. She was trim and fit, with nicely-sized boobs, she kept her cunt shaved smooth and her full lips were simply made to suck cock. Her skin was fair and even and her dark brown hair was long enough to pull on if you were fucking her ass or taking her from behind. So what the hell was wrong? The bed was certainly big enough for two (or maybe her and two guys who didn't mind getting close), but she plunked herself down into it and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop drunk-spinning. It took longer than she wanted it to, but things finally slowed down an she breathed deeply. She reached over with her hand and fumbled around inside the drawer of the nightstand. She finally withdrew an elegant glass dildo, a barely opaque white with bright red stripes curling around it to simulate a candy cane. It had been a Christmas gift from Claire, who had jokingly given it to her until she found a man for herself. That bitch. "Well, Frosty," she sighed, examining him. "Looks like it's you and me tomorrow. I promise to not get out of bed except to go to the bathroom or get more booze, okay? Because I'm here for you;" And with that she kissed the dildo and put it aside. She turned out her lamp and sighed deeply as she lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to take her. "Fuck Christmas;" A noise from downstairs. Her eyes snapped open. She was sure she'd heard something. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took deep breaths to try and calm herself, reasoning that she'd been drunk and it might just be hangover noises. Maybe just something like branches scraping on the roof or across the walls? Ginny felt a flush of anger and slowly rose, getting out of bed and putting on a plush yellow robe. There were definitely sounds downstairs. She grabbed her rape whistle and her high-school field hockey stick off the wall before quietly opening the door and proceeding out of the room. Her cheeks flushed with fear and anger. How dare someone invade her house? And in this fucking weather! "Burglars? Ruffians? Escaped cons?" "Well, at least if they see you they might have their way with you and break your dry spell." She shook the vile notion from her head, wondering where the hell that'd come from. Could she be that desperate to get laid? Ginny walked as quietly as she could, hearing noises on the roof. Raccoons? Looking to get in from the cold? Fucking trash pandas. She rounded the corner of the gallery and put her foot on the top step, her hockey stick ready. She crept down the stairs, still hearing the noises. They seemed to be coming from her living room. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to identify anything that might be amiss. Then she saw him, a symphony of red trimmed in white, the huge ass swaying back and forth as the intruder was bent over her at the base of her Christmas tree, doing God only knows what to it. He seemed to be humming to himself. She walked up silently until she was maybe ten feet away from him, her hockey stick over her shoulder, ready to swing. He didn't hear her or took no notice of her. "I don't want to hurt you," she growled through clenched teeth. "But you'd best get the fuck out of my house or I'll hit you so hard Google won't be able to find you." The person in red paused in their activities and then stood up slowly. After another moment's pause, they stood up and turned around slowly. He was slightly taller than average and quite a bit fatter than societal norms allowed. He had a fat face with dancing blue eyes and red cheeks. Beneath the tapered red hat was long, silvery-white hair and a very full beard and moustache. The intruder looked at her and grinned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked with a voice that could only be described as jolly. Ginny said nothing. She seemed to be rooted to the spot. She wanted to say something, anything, but she seemed to have been robbed of the power of speech. "W, who;" she finally managed to stammer. "Yes, Virginia," the visitor said quietly but pleasantly in a soothing voice. "There really is a Santa Claus." She blinked and shook her head, trying to articulate a coherent thought. The big man in red chuckled, clearly amused by her predicament. "Your egg nog was very good," he mentioned as he walked forward a little. "Your cookies needed a little work, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe a cookbook next year?" "Stay still!" she snapped, suddenly coming out of her stupor and holding the hockey stick behind her head as if she was winding up for a hit. "I'll deck you, old man!" "Oh, there's no need for that," he said cheerfully, totally unconcerned by her threat. "It's been a rough year for you, hasn't it, Ginny?" "Why do you know my name?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of course I know it," the man claiming to be Santa said jovially. "I'd be pretty lousy at my job if I didn't, right?" "If you're really Santa," she said tightly, still not understanding why she hadn't knocked this guy's head off his shoulders yet. "Then what was I doing the night of October seventeenth last year?" He tilted his head to the side a little and pursed his lips. "Are you sure?" "C'mon, you haven't got all day." "Very well," he said, sighing. "You were sitting in McPhearson's Pub, waiting vainly for Greg from IT to show up, because you'd given him a blowjob in the bathroom earlier that day and promised him more. But he went off with Becky from Accounts that night instead of meeting up with you." She blushed furiously at the memory. "I; that wasn't the day I meant! I meant the sixteenth!" He shrugged. "You had the day off and were really frustrated. You slid a condom over that very field hockey stick and used it on yourself, just to see what it was like." Ginny dropped the stick very suddenly. "How the hell do you know that, you perv?" The man shrugged. "I know all about you, Ginny. And every other boy and girl in the world" "Don't give me that horseshit!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I had too many Christmases where I didn't get what I want to buy into that cockamamie story!" "Well, you weren't exactly the most exemplary child, were you?" he reasoned. "I mean, you weren't horrible, it's not like you were out kicking puppies into woodchippers, but you spent more time in the naughty column that the good column, didn't you?" "What did I ever do that was so naughty?" she demanded hotly, her fists bunched up at her sides. "You and your brother could get rather friendly, couldn't you?" the man calling himself Santa pointed out. She faltered for a moment. "Lots of siblings play doctor. And those atomic booty bombs where I kept jumping in the air and landing on him were just playful." "While naked?" Santa asked, raising a bushy white eyebrow. Ginny blushed. "But that wasn't what landed you on the naughty list," he added. "What got you blacklisted was that you lied about doing your homework or cleaning your room while you were messing around with your brother. Your mom and dad would ask you to do your math and you'd slip away to play doctor instead and tell them you'd finished your homework after. Lying is naughty, right?" "Woah, hold the phone here," she said loudly, holding her head as if she was suddenly dizzy from a revelation. She didn't seem to notice that her robe had opened slightly, exposing her cleavage. "Are you fucking kidding me? Fibbing to my parents kept me from getting the gifts I wanted?" "Were the rules unclear?" Santa asked. "I thought the songs on the subject were so easy to follow." Ginny pinched her eyes in exasperation and then scowled at him. "I'm drunk," she concluded, trying to convince herself none of this was real. "I'm drunker than Sarah Palin and you're not really here. I'm still in bed and this is all bullshit." Santa shrugged. "I was putting stuff under your tree until you arrived and enjoying the nog. I won't mind if you go back to bed." "No, you're not getting off that easily," she said in annoyance. "You broke into my house in the middle of the storm of the fucking century and I want answers, dammit!" He shrugged. "Fair enough. Ask away." Her eyes narrowed again. "Aren't you on kind of a time crunch? Unless I'm the last person on your delivery list, don't you still have a shit ton of houses to visit? Say, a few hundred million?" He waved it off. "I've got it covered, I promise. I have all the time in the world for you, Ginny. I always have." "What, so you sub-contract out?" she said snidely. "Got FedEx making the rounds for you? Or maybe your 'Elves'?" She mentioned the last bit with air quotes. "Goodness, this has been a bad year for you, hasn't it?" he said sympathetically. "But to answer your question, I am capable of being many places at once." "Oh, so now you're the Kwizatz-Haderach?" she asked archly. "Hey, it's not just cinnamon I put in my Christmas cider." Santa chuckled. "It's rather complicated to explain." "So do you, like, clone yourself?" she asked, her guard seeming to slowly come down. "No, not at all," he said, shaking his head. "It involves Cherenkov Radiation, a Holmes field, a Gellar field and, to quote a friend of mine, 'a lot of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey; stuff.'" "So it's some sort of deep quantum shit?" she asked, her body finally relaxing. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, it's very temporal and quantum. I can be many places at once. It's why I don't have to pay for billions in window repairs every year by going supersonic around the world." "So even while you're talking to me, you're delivering presents?" she asked, the sheer depth of the conversation hitting her now. She walked over to a stool and sat on it. "Like I said, it's difficult to explain without breaking out the chalkboard and calculator," he answered. "The magnetic lines between the poles help, especially the one that emanates from the Fortress of Solitude." Ginny blinked. "Fortress of Solitude? As in Superman? You're friends with Superman?" "Of course not!" the jolly man laughed. "There's no such thing as Superman, silly, he's a comic book character. Had you going, though." "Holy shit, Santa's a troll," she exclaimed, looking at him in bewilderment. "Well, okay, let's assume that this is all real and not a vivid hallucination resulting from a brain tumor. If I've been such a brat all these years, how do I make up for it? How do I get off the naughty girl list?" "Well, a little restraint would be a start," Santa suggested. "I'm not saying go out and become a Carthusian nun or a Buddhist priestess or anything, but you might try laying off the rampant promiscuity." "Why is that so bad?" she demanded. "What's so wrong with wanting to get banged?" "Nothing," he said simply. "But inevitably you get yourself into some kind of weird situation and end up lying your behind off and lying is a naughty thing to do. So try keeping your legs bolted together a little more." "Really;" she said, clearly not impressed. "Celibacy lessons from Santa Claus. Now I've heard everything." "According to my report here and speaking frankly, it's taken guys a lot less attractive than me a lot less effort to get you out of your clothes." Santa mentioned. "This coming from a guy who could clearly use a few P90-X sessions!" she shot back hotly, standing up, her robe opening further as she stomped toward him. He looked down at himself for a moment and guffawed. "Oh, right, I keep forgetting about that; hang on;" The man held his hands out to his sides and began to glow. The luminous display lit up the room progressively and Ginny held her hand in front of her face when it became too bright to look at for several seconds. When the light finally died away, leaving them once again in the softly lit living room, Ginny gaped in shock at what she saw. He was tall, powerfully built, with chiseled muscles, an eight pack and flawless, healthy skin. He'd removed his coat but the red pants remained, stretched tight over muscular thighs. Long, wavy, copper-colored hair fell past his shoulders and the full beard was reddish-gold. The sapphire-blue eyes stared down at her, still glittering with mirth. "Holy Jesus on a pogo stick;" she breathed, her voice little more than a whisper. "You're a total lumbersexual;" "This is what I really look like," he said, spreading his hands out to the sides and showing her his body. His chest rippled as the muscles flexed with the motion. "But kids react to the fat old man disguise better." "I'll bet mothers don't," she murmured, coming forward as if compelled and reaching out to touch his chest and washboard abs. "It's like you're Photo-shopped." He smiled as her hands caressed his abs. "You make me want to not get off the naughty list." "I think I know what you really want for Christmas;" he said slyly. Ginny paused and looked up at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" "No, I can't lie." the man in red pants replied. "I thought it was Superman who couldn't lie." "Well, the writers had to get that idea from somewhere, I guess." Santa mused. "In any event, if you want, you could end up on the good girl list by being rather naughty." She stared at him. "So; get laid by Santa for Christmas?" He shrugged. "There might be some other goodies in the bag for you, but I think we both know what Ginny really wants and needs for Christmas." "This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy!" she thought to herself, wrestling with her sensibilities. "If this is all just a dream, then I can fuck hunky Santa and have no regrets. If this is real, I can fuck sexy Santa and remember it in the morning! It's win-win!" "Well, this is super-easy," she declared. "Santa, I want you to fuck my brains out for Christmas." "With pleasure, Ginny!" he said, laughing merrily. "Whatever you like, however you want it. I have to keep the kiddies happy." "Good, but just don't say 'kiddies' anymore, because that's kinda creepy," she said, throwing her caution to the wind. She knelt down in front of him, putting her hands on the oversized silver belt buckle and undoing it. Letting it drop, she put her fingers on the front of his pants, caressing them over the crotch. Her mouth went dry. "That'd better not be a secondary present sack you're teasing me with;" Ginny hooked her fingers into the top of the velvety pants and pulled them down, revealing his cock. She drew in her breath slowly, her eyes widening. "Jesus," she muttered. "You're hung like a fat kid's Christmas stocking;" "Thanks, I make due." Santa said cheerfully, watching her admire his cock. "By the way, shouldn't I call you something else?" she asked, looking up at him while her hand reached up to take his huge shaft, wrapping around it, barely. "I mean, most people call you Santa Claus, but isn't your name Nick or Kris or something?" He shrugged again, grinning. "Nick, Kris, Klaus, Pelznickel, Joulupukki, Kanakaloka, Dun Che Lao Ren, Weihnachtsmann, Swiety Mikolaj, Hoteiosho, Jultomten, I don't mind, Ginny. I just like hearing you say my name the way you think of me." "Hmm, Santa;" she replied, smiling as she stroked her hand along his shaft, eyeing it hungrily. How the hell was she going to fit that all in her mouth, forget her aching cunt? "Ah, don't use that word," he chided, holding up a finger. "Some words are still naughty, even when you're an adult." "Stay out of my mind then, creeper." Ginny said as she leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the fat head of his cock. She flicked it around the tip and then slowly took it inside her mouth, tongue rolling against it. "The hell? How can his cock taste like mint?" "Just wait til you taste my cum." Santa said, leering. "Fine, but it better not taste like turkey gravy or we're gonna box." Ginny said as she pulled her mouth back for a moment. She pumped her hand gently along the shaft, studying her quarry intently. It was definitely the biggest cock she'd ever taken on, and the best-tasting. She'd been experiencing trippy magic all evening, maybe she could fit this monster in her mouth this one night; She put the head back in her mouth and relaxed, slowly pushing down the shaft. She moaned as she felt him slide to the back of her mouth and then to her throat. She felt him tremble and lay a huge but gentle hand on the back of her head. "Holy shit; I'm deep-throating Santa Claus;" Ginny took a deep breath through her nose and then tried to relax. Her whole body was tingling with excitement and the whole minty cock thing was throwing her off. Her tongue undulated along the underside of his shaft while the fingers of one hand formed a ring around the base of his cock and the other cupped his balls, fondling them. Ginny was proud of her cocksucking skills and if there was anyone she ever needed to impress with them (aside from her 11th Grade math teacher), it was probably Santa. She calmed herself and began pulling her mouth back along his length, humming and letting her lips vibrate softly on his sensitive skin. "Now I know why Mister Bondi gave you that A in math," Santa chuckled. "You're a very naughty girl, Virginia." "Hmm, only for you, Santa baby;" she cooed as she pulled her mouth off his cock long enough to respond, stroking slowly and swirling her tongue around the head again. She then slid back down the entire length, moaning in pleasure. She could feel her nipples getting hard and her cunt was very, very wet beneath her robe. Both his hands were on the back of her head now and holding her gently but firmly. She began to slowly bob back and forth, thrilled at how she was able to take this enormous beast of a cock all the way in her mouth. Sure, maybe there was some weird physics involved that compressed space and time or some shit, but she didn't care and he certainly didn't seem to mind. "Hmm, very good, Virginia;" he said softly, stroking her hair. No one ever called her Virginia and she didn't know why it gave her a tingle when he did. His cock was very full and very hard now, like a pulsing iron rod covered in mint-flavored velvet. She almost giggled at the thought of how crazy this all was. She really hoped it wasn't a dream. Her thumb began to squeeze along the underside of his cock as her hand followed her mouth up and down his length. The shaft glistened wetly and the mint was making her drool. She undid her robe and let it fall away, the air of the room kissing her flushed skin. Her hands now took hold of his powerful thighs and she began moving back and forth along his cock more quickly. She could feel his hands flexing in her long, dark hair, caressing her skin. Breathing through her nose, she moaned as she sucked ardently, her cunt almost aching with desire. She was hoping he would last long enough to fuck her when he went rigid suddenly and groaned, gripping her head tightly and his hips shuddering. Ginny's eyes widened as she felt him began to cum inside her mouth, spurting strongly. She began swallowing hastily, almost in a panic as Santa pumped his hips against her face. "Holy shit! Fucking eggnog?" He kept cumming and she was sure she might actually drown when he pulled his huge cock out of her mouth and pumped it furiously in his hand, spattering her tits and stomach with his glistening load. She'd never seen so much cum in her life. It tingled on her skin. Finally, Santa relaxed, allowing Ginny to put her mouth back around his cock and suck the rest of his cum from him. He was sighing and breathing rather heavily, apparently having enjoyed himself. She eventually released him and smiled up at him wickedly. "So," she cooed, winking while she gently pumped his cock with her hand. "Am I back on the good girl list?" "Oh, I'd think so," he said, grinned. "But it's not like I've given you your whole present yet." "Jeez, you can still go?" she asked almost in disbelief but also delighted. She really needed to be fucked hard now. "Your cock taste like mint, your cum tastes like nog, your ass probably tastes like hot cocoa or nutmeg and you can keep it up all night?" "Up all night is kind of my thing, at least once a year." Santa said cheerfully. "So how would you like for me to give you the rest of your present, Virginia?" "Well, golly, Santa," she mused, making a show of thinking while she stroked his cock. "Since you seem to be the gift that keeps on giving, how about we just wing it?" He nodded and she stood up, keeping hold of his cock and gently led him over to the large chesterfield, hoping it would hold his rather muscular frame. She knelt on it, resting her arms along the raised back and smiled at him, wiggling her behind. She wouldn't believe how wet her cunt was. "You gonna hurry down my chimney, Santa-baby?" she asked, smiling slyly. "I can't believe you just said that!" he laughed jovially. He may not have been older, fatter Santa, but the laugh still definitely suited him. He stepped up behind her and took gentle hold of her hips. She could feel him press against her ass and she shivered in anticipation. He slid his massive cock up and down between her ass cheeks, teasing her until she was writhing in desperation. He seemed to know instinctively what she loved most. Which only made sense, since he was Santa. "Ready, Virginia?" he asked as he pressed the huge mushroom head against her sticky cunt. She nodded eagerly, unwilling to speak. He slid the head in, parting her lips and penetrating her. She groaned loudly as he began to stretch her inner walls. With a slow, steady push of his hips, he pushed the entire length of his cock deep inside her. It robbed her of her breath, she'd never felt so full in her life, even that one time she'd been so horny she'd fucked her parent's bedpost. "Ah; uh;" she gasped, eyes wide. The sensations were like nothing she'd ever experienced. His cock completely filled her to a delightful stretch that didn't hurt except in the good way. His iron shaft throbbed in time with her heartbeat. It was wonderfully warm but also strangely cool all at once, tingling, like mint again. How the hell could her cunt taste peppermint? "Language, Virginia;" he chided again as he pressed in just a little bit further. By right his cockhead should have bruising her brainstem, but there was no doubt some weird physics shit involved that she decided not to think about. She was getting fucked by Santa, after all. She pressed her forehead against the back of the couch and tried squeezing her cunt around his titan cock or pressing back against him, squirming her ass against his hips. She shuddered in delight, loving how he felt inside her. His hands reached under her body and squeezed and massaged her tits, sending delicious thrills through her. He began to move slowly back and forth, pulling back until just the tip was inside her and pushing in steadily, almost robbing her of breath. She began to feel like a blacksmith's bellows very quickly. The feel of his cock sliding inside her, stretching her and touching deep inside in ways she hadn't known were possible; "Oh my god;" she gasped, fingers digging into the back of the couch. "You're tearing me apart and I love it;" "Only the best for my Virginia," he said, his ruddy cheeks taking on a flush tone as he fucked her. Her fingers squeezed the meat of her thighs and hips or flexed on her ass cheeks. His heavy balls slapped against her cunt as he drove inside her. Strong yet gentle, forceful and commanding yet accommodating. She felt dominated yet exalted somehow. His hand wrapped in her hair and she groaned loudly as he pulled on it, craning her neck. She shuddered in pleasure, feeling her spine almost accordion as he thrust inside while pulling her head back. Her could feel the pulse of his cock through her whole body. Her nails scratched along the couch, almost clawing it. "Uh, you're gonna make me cum so fucking hard;" she wailed, feeling the sweat forming on her skin. "Oh my gawd;" "You're going to make me cum hard too," he panted, thrusting deep inside, thumping his hips against her ass. "You feel wonderful and tight, Virginia;" "Oh, God, he's gonna cum in me;" she realized. "Santa's gonna fucking cum in me and he's not wearing anything! Will my birth control work? Shit, will my kids always smell like mint?" "Oh, God, cum in me!" she panted, thrusting herself back against him and grinding shamelessly. "Fucking cum in me, Santa!" "Ya want me to cum in you?" he hissed, his body beginning to tremble. It felt like his cock was getting bigger inside her. "Want my cum in you?" "God, yes!" Ginny squeaked, clenching her teeth. "Fucking cum in me and make me scream!" They strained against one another desperately and then she cried out as a massive orgasm crashed over her. It battered her senses as she felt his hot-yet-tingly-cool cum bathing her insides relentlessly. Her cunt was making greedy sucking sounds as she came, her whole body shuddering almost uncontrollably. She squeezed and clenched and rippled her tight tunnel round him, reveling in the way he stretched and penetrated her ever more deeply. She collapsed against the chesterfield, panting heavily, her body drenched in sweat. His massive, hard cock was still deep inside her, pinning her to him. She felt like she was made of lead, an exquisite exhaustion while pleasure crawled over her languidly. That was beyond anything she had ever experienced. But he didn't seem to be done with her. His powerful hands took hold of Ginny and turned her around so she was squatting on the couch, her knees spread wide and her arms slung across the high back. She looked up at him in weary astonishment as he nestled himself between her legs and pressed his cock against her sopping cunt again. "Ah!" she wailed as he slid deep inside her again, his huge cock splitting her wide. Her nails dug into the couch again and she clenched her teeth as she sucked in her breath. Ginny tried to regulate her breathing while Santa began sliding in and out slowly, looking down at her with those penetrating blue eyes. "Jesus," she grunted, feeling almost like a rag doll in his hands, which gripped her hips. "Gonna fucking kill me with that thing!" "Oh, let's hope not," he replied, thrusting into her strongly. "I'm nowhere near done with you." She gazed up at him, trembling as he fucked her good and hard. She bit her lip as he squeezed her thighs, before moving his hands up to squeeze her tits, pinching her nipples. She groaned shamelessly as the delicious sting electrified her senses. She tried to squeeze herself around him, baffled by how big he felt inside her. She gasped and whimpered as he slapped her cunt lightly. She reached forward and raked her nails over his powerful chest, leaving red marks along the defined muscles. She ground her hips against him wantonly, thrilling to the look of pleasure on this face. "Uh, fuckin' wreck me;" she gasped, feeling another massive climax building inside her. "Make me cum on that beautiful cock, Santa!" "I'll take 'Things Virginia Never Thought She'd Ever Hear Herself Say' for a thousand, Alex!" he laughed. He reached down and took her ass her hands and pulled her closer, smiling warmly yet wickedly into her eyes as she sank further onto his cock, which penetrated her to the deepest depths yet. She could feel the head pressing against her womb. It didn't hurt, but she felt fuller and more stretched than ever. She felt him squeeze her ass cheeks while he thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight, bumping up and down on his powerful thighs. She moaned loudly and bit his shoulder, trying not to shriek. She tried to squeeze herself around him again, finding that she could barely control her muscles, let alone fuck. She bit down as the warmth spread through her, tears of pleasure in her eyes. He thumped his hips against her even more strongly and they strained against one another. Then he growled and released himself, pumping her once again full of his tingling cum. She shuddered and cried out loudly, her head spinning from the unreal ecstasy. Crushing herself to him, Ginny held on desperately, like a ship battered by an unrelenting storm. They both slumped onto the couch, breathing heavily. She felt small and almost cocooned in his embrace. She was covered in a heavy sheen of sweat and could feel the thrilling tingle of his cum trickling out of her cunt. It wouldn't be a stain on her couch, it was a mark of honor. Their hearts pounded in rhythm as the orgasm passed over them and slowly flowed away. "Holy shit;" she whispered, her body still limp in his arms. "I think you've ruined me for sex. I should be mad;" "You have to admit, it makes sense that I'm better at gift-giving than anyone else on the planet." Santa reasoned, smiling and stroking her hair while she sat in his lap. "I'd say you were a little pent up there." "Mild understatement," she moaned, finally raising her head and smiling up at him. "Thank you, first of all. That was the best thing I've ever felt in my life." "I aim to please," he said cheerfully, caressing his thumb across her cheek and enjoying the shining look in her eyes. "Kinda my thing, after all." "So," Ginny purred, walking to fingers up his broad chest. "Is there a Mrs. Claus?" He shrugged. "There has been, of course." She paused suddenly and looked up at him, her smile replaced by a deadpan look. "What do you mean, there has been?" He seemed somewhat confused by her change in demeanor. "Well, there has been a few in the past, of course, there was Seeki first, then there was Ahoop, followed by Annalina, then Layla, Martha, Juliana, Gretchen and Jessica, Santarina, Kasey, Mary;" "I see," she said stonily. "You've had more wives than Elizabeth Taylor had husbands." "Well, to be fair, they've been spread over a long period of time." Santa replied. "And they were all special to me." "So then I'm not special." Ginny said flatly. "Well of course you are," he said, not understanding her mood swing. "You're my Virginia." "And Becky down the street is your Becky, and Sarah in the blue house is your Sarah and Hilda in Dusseldorf is your Hilda," she concluded. "Everyone's equally special to you, aren't they?" He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, I'm not being fair," she sighed. "I just; well, I thought maybe this; ya know, tonight, was truly special. And clearly you're not good at lying." "Well, no, not at all." Santa agreed, still holding her and wondering how he could comfort her. "I can't lie." "Like, literally can't?" she asked, now curious more than anything. "It's part of your genetic makeup that you can't lie?" "No, nothing like that," he admitted. "But after spending centuries with kids and teaching them to always tell the truth, I haven't tried telling a lie in so long I don't even know how to do it." "You don't know how to lie?" she mused. "If I did, it wouldn't be the least bit believable," he said. "Like, if I said right now that your breath smells wonderful and not like old eggnog and vomit, I somehow doubt you'd believe my lie." "No shit," Ginny replied, giving him a stony look. "You're a horrible liar. You've got the subtlety of a cement truck. Good thing you're Santa and don't have to date to charm a girl." He held her close, hugging her tight to comfort her. She sighed deeply, still impaled on his hard cock, which showed no sign of abating. "God, I can't believe you've still got wood after cumming like a fire hydrant three times," she said, her mood softening. She was having the best sex of her life, she reminded herself not to ruin it by being crazy. "How long can you keep going?" He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "How long do you need me to?" "Actually, it doesn't surprise me that's your answer." Ginny said, smirking. "If you've got the time, I've got another itch that needs scratching." He grinned. "So you haven't broken in that hot tub yet, have you?" "Oh, Santa;" she purred, leaning in and biting his earlobe. "Like you don't make me wet already." He picked her up and carried her toward the Jacuzzi, deftly turning it on with his foot and bringing it rumbling to life. He stepped down into the churning water, setting her one of the seats. As he stood up, she leaned forward and hungrily took his enormous cock into her mouth, sucking ardently. She moved forward and knelt in the water, her hands on his hips again or stroking his balls. He picked her up bodily and turned her upside. Ginny squeaked in surprise at first but found his hips in front of her and began sucking again on his tool without delay. He buried his face in her cunt, tongue snaking deep inside her and she groaned gutturally, Holding her in place with one powerful hand, her teased her taint and then pressed a finger into her ass. "Jesus!" she gasped, almost choking on his cock as he wormed the finger down into her tight tunnel. "Oh, fuck! Your finger is bigger than some dicks I've fucked!" She attacked his cock again eagerly, bobbing back and forth like her life depended on it. She squirmed in his grip as he lashed her cunt with his tongue and fingered her ass. Her fingernails dug into his thighs and her knees locked around his neck. His cock throbbed in her mouth, still thrilling her with its unique and incredible taste. He turned her around again and paid her on the edge of the hot tub, spreading her legs wide. She looked on wantonly as he pushed his tongue back inside her again. He gripped her thighs to hold her in place and she groaned and squirmed, squeezing her tits and pulling on her nipples. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he drove her to the limit of her sensations. Ginny shook and thrashed as she cried out loudly, cumming on his face. He didn't let up, lapping at her essence eagerly. She lay like a dead thing for several seconds before her chest began to rise and fall. Her eyes opened, gazing back at him. She couldn't feel her limbs, just floating on a tingling ocean of deep colors. Santa looked up at her and smiled, pulling his tongue out of her cunt and kissing her clit gently. She shivered at the touch. "One hole left, Santa," she breathed, her body glistening. "Got any left in you to perfect my Christmas?" "Always for you, Virginia." Santa said warmly, standing and raising her gently into a sitting position. He settled down into the water on one of the seats and then pulled her onto his lap, facing away from him. She moved her hips around until she found his rock-hard cock, waiting for her. She placed her puckered knot against it, giggling as she thought about what he was about to do to her. She took his shaft in her hand and held it steady while she sank down, very slowly. Ginny gasped and shivered as the head pushed aside the tight ring of muscle, popping inside her. Then she sighed as she lowered herself, feeling his massive cock stretching her tight tunnel wide. God, she felt so full it was unreal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her ass cheeks pressed to his lap. He was all the way inside her ass and her held her closed as she settled back against him, purring in sensual pleasure. "Umm, it's never felt this good in my ass before," she said softly, her arms reaching back to curl around his neck. She gyrated slowly on his lap, moaning softly. "A gal could get used to this." His muscular arms wrapped around her and caressed Ginny's body, massaging her tits. She loved how she felt pinned to him. She had finally found the measure of her body and began to squeeze her tight ass around his cock. She squirmed in slow circles on his lap, wishing she had some music to fuck him to. Her stereo system suddenly came on and began playing 'It's Cold Outside'. She giggled and squeezed his neck gently at his thoughtfulness. "You think of everything, don't you?" she purred, lost in her pleasure. "I can't wait to make you cum again." He smiled wickedly and pulled gently on her nipples, causing her to groan at the welcome sting. She pressed her ass back into his lap, squeezing again around his throbbing shaft. The water bubbled and churned around her waist, the heat leaving her skin shining. She began to pant as she moved her hips faster, stopping the circular motions and started to move up and down, his cock sliding in and out of her. Santa took hold of her hips and let her bounce on his lap. Ginny leaned forward, gasping as she fondled her tits, overcome with a liquid heat as his cock impaled her faster and faster. Water splashed around them as the fucking took on an almost frantic pace. Ginny had never felt anything in her ass like this before, nothing even close to this good. She could very easily become an addict. "Uh, fuck!" she grunted, slamming her ass down on him while one hand snaked down and began massaging her cunt and clit. His hands steadied her and helped moved her up and down. She could feel his hips trembling beneath her, his fingers flexing and squeezing her skin. Her panting became a long, drawn-out keening. She clenched her teeth, shuddering and straining as she tried to prolong the fucking; Ginny screamed and pushed herself back against his massive chest violently, thrashing as she clenched his cock inside her ass while he came. His cream flooded inside her, the unreal hot-cool tingling transporting her. He growled in her ear, almost crushing her comparatively tiny frame against himself. She collapsed, utterly exhausted, her chest rising and falling as the world spun around her. She felt him holding her gently, caressing her body in unique ways that seemed to; regulate her blood flow and nerve sensations, making the post-orgasmic bliss she was feeling last as long as possible. She felt herself smile and hum at his consideration, understanding this this is who he was and what he was meant to do. Ginny then did something she almost never did during sex, she leaned her head back, pressed her lips to his and kissed him deeply and with great affection. She held it for as long as she could and then sank back into his embrace, sighing in contentment. "Wish you were advertising for a Mrs. Claus at the moment," she said softly. "I could get used to this." "I like things the way they are," he replied, hugging her. "Every year I get to reward you for being a good girl. What could be better than that?" "True, I guess," Ginny agreed. "I'm only human, all this sex could kill me." "Hey, I'm human too, you know," he chuckled. "Just because I'm immeasurably older than you and subject to quantum laws even my smartest elf couldn't explain doesn't mean I'm a member of some other species." "Okay, that's fair, although I'd still fuck you if you were an alien or some extra-dimensional being." Ginny admitted. "You've come in me a lot tonight, daddy. Do I need to” "No," he said cheerfully. "I'm not sterile, but you can't get pregnant unless I decide you will and I've never allowed it." "I wonder what a Santa kid would be like," she mused. "More like you or the mom?" "No idea," he confessed. "There's not exactly a manual, so I've never taken a chance." She slowly leaned forward and began to rise, shivering as she slid off his long cock and it popped out of her. She knelt and turned around to face him, not sure she could stand yet, looking up at his still hard cock and giggled, pressing her finger against the head. "Well, I think you can take him off duty, sir," she said sweetly. "I'm pretty sure that I'm all fucked out for the night, if not the whole season." He chuckled and let his cock soften, looking into her eyes and caressing his cheek. "Hopefully that was what you needed for Christmas." "Definitely, Santa." Ginny said, giggling. "Is it greedy to want the same present again next year?" "Not at all," he replied, grinning. "It cuts down on elf-labor hours if I can give people a gift mysteriously." Santa paused in speaking, going silent and looking around, as if listening for something. Neither of them touched the controls, but the motor for the jets turned off and all that could be heard was the howling roar of the winter storm outside. Ginny looked at him in confusion, wondering why his features hardened and a scowl crossed his normally jovial face. "That's no storm," he said in a low, growling voice. "Not a regular one, anyway." "What does that mean?" she asked, his reaction worrying her for reasons she couldn't readily explain. What the hell was a 'not regular' storm, according to Santa, or anyone else for that matter? He stood up and strode out of the hot tub, taking her by the hand and pulling her out with him. Their naked bodies glistened with water but this was the farthest thing from her mind. "What's going on?" she asked, his consternation beginning to frighten her now. She watched as he tossed her the robe she'd been wearing earlier and then started pulling on his pants and sturdy black boots. "It's just a winter storm! Isn't it?" "I wish that were true," he replied, his expression grim. "Listen to me very carefully, Virginia. I'll need you to follow me instructions precisely. Do you understand?" She nodded. "Okay, but” "Good," he said, cutting her off, his eyes flashing. "It's very important to your safety." "Can you at least tell me what's happening?" she pleaded. "Krampus." Santa muttered darkly as he wrapped bright red straps around his wrists, tightening them. "I should've been more careful." "What's Krampus?" she asked, going pale and she paused in putting on her robe, one of her tits hanging out. "Krampus isn't a what, Krampus is a who," he said, his eyes scanning the layout of her expansive living room. "He's also called Black Pete in some places and legend says he's supposed to be my evil henchman who punishes wicked children." "I take it that's not true, then?" she asked, looking around like he did, wondering what he was searching for. "Not even close," he growled. "Pardon my French, but Krampus is an evil sonofabitch. He was, at one time long ago, my dedicated helper, but he turned down the path of darkness, becoming twisted and diabolic. Forget punishing children, he wants to destroy Christmas, like it never happened." "What's that got to do with us here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Can he reach us in this storm?" "This storm is his doing, I recognize it now," Santa said, striding over to his huge Christmas bag and beginning to rummage in it. "A massive storm always precedes his arrival. It can be mistaken for a regular winter storm if you're not paying

Miracle On Route 34: Part 1 Ginny gets a wonderful Christmas surprise. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Author's Notes: Someone asked me to write a funny and erotic Christmas tale, but since I can't be normal, it is taking on a radical twist that I hope people will find amusing. I've tried to make Santa awesome but also give him some flaws that the ladies will find both charming and irksome all at once. I wasn't going to call it anything lame like 'Here Cums Santa Claus' (in spite of my love of Elvis) so I eventually settled on ripping off a classic and beloved Christmas movie, naming it 'Miracle On Rural Road 34'. Couldn't help myself with the 'Yes, Virginia' quip, of course. As for Superman, Oatmeal and the Easter Bunny, well, get used to more groaners like that, because I like them. Merry ho-ho and keep your stick on the ice! , Management Chapter 1. Ginny Hale sighed forlornly as she sat on her chesterfield in the dim room, the only light provided by the crackling fireplace and some scented candles spread around to make the house smell like gingerbread. She'd made gingerbread cookies earlier, but they were predictably burnt and now her kitchen smelled like a Christmas elf's ass. She took another sip of red wine from her oversized glass, unable to decide who or what to be mad at, the weather, for bringing this god-awful blizzard on Christmas Eve, her so-called friends for ditching her after she'd gone to all this work to put together a nice party, or herself for going crazy and buying this (admittedly nice) chateau way out here in the boondocks. Still relatively new to her negotiator position, Ginny had landed a huge deal for the company she worked for and the payout bonus was one of the biggest ever seen in-house. Though she had an office, she had often worked from her cramped apartment downtown, where a glorious chaos only she understood reigned. But the payout had been large enough for her to purchase a very pretty home in the country, not more than ninety minutes from work. Her boss was so pleased with the deal that he said she only had to come in once a week, to pick up whatever she needed to work on. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now she found she was quite lonely. Few people were will to put forth the effort to come out and visit her. In fact, only three had since the summer when she bought it. Hell, even her boy-toy, Chad from Accounting, could not be bothered and was now just fucking Lily in the secretary pool instead. Bing Crosby was singing 'White Christmas' to her while she moped. The big bay windows to her back porch showed the fury of the storm outside. Driving snow had been battering the countryside for two days now and her boss had called her to just stay safe and not try to come into the city. He was a nice old man and she liked him. He'd actually taken a chance and given her the job, after she'd fucked him. She hadn't invited him to her little soiree, because his miserable old bat of a wife was hovering around him constantly these days, certain he'd been tipping on her. But even without Old Man Reese, she'd invited upward of twenty people and none of them had shown. Not even Claire, her best supposed friend, had made it out. She was probably too busy being pinned and screwed by her boyfriend anyway, Guido or Nunzio or whatever his name was. Dean Martin came on, singing 'Marshmallow World'. Normally this was one of her favorites, but tonight it just reminded her that she was alone for Christmas. Again. With another sigh, she drank the rest of the wine in her glass and reached for the bottle, turning it over. It was empty. Damn. She'd have to open another one. She walked slowly into the kitchen, wearing her ratty old fox-themed footie pajamas, having decided that if she didn't have to dress up for anyone, she was dressing at all. She took a deep drink of spiked egg nog from the jug of it she'd prepared while she found another bottle of zinfandel and burped very loudly. She wrestled the cork off of the bottle and poured most of the contents into her oversized glass, muttering that she didn't have to answer to anyone about what she did, she was a big girl. She slumped back down on the couch while John Lennon asked her what she'd done for Christmas from the stereo system. "Up yours, John;" she said testily as she drank more wine. She stood unsteadily, blinking for a moment to try and clear her head. She might have had a bit of a wine fog going on, since she'd nearly polished off two bottles of Old Vine Zinfandel in under two hours. Convincing herself that walking was not a bad idea, she tottered over to the bay windows, reaching a hand out in front of herself to make sure it encountered the glass before her face did. "Will you look at that shit out there;" she muttered to no one in particular. After all, there was no one around to hear her. Well, almost no one. "Hi, Oatmeal," she said sweetly, grinning lopsidedly at the bearded dragon that sat in a terrarium near the bay doors. "Looks like you're my Christmas date; again;" The tiny lizard said nothing but assumed a darker shade of purplish brown. "Same to you too, bugface." Ginny muttered sourly, annoyed at being spurned by a reptile with a brain smaller than a sugared peanut. She lumbered back to the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to eat several pieces of the Turkish Delight she'd tried to make, but they were sticky and runny, most of the reddish-pink mess ending up stuck to the front of her pajamas. "Son of a fucking reindeer!" she spat, attempting to remove the pajamas, her sticky fingers having trouble with the zipper. She finally kicked the thing off and left it in a corner of the kitchen, now wearing nothing except her panties and a halter top. She stomped back into the spacious living room, thoroughly annoyed. While the music played, she looked around for something to do, taking another pull from the egg nog jug she'd brought with her. The hot tub. It sat near the bay windows, set into the floor and was large enough for five or six people. She'd been hoping that maybe a few people of the dozens she'd invited would show and maybe they could have a fun pool party. She'd even told everyone in the invitations to bring their swimsuits. But of course, no one showed. She was beginning to suspect she could live in Buckingham Fucking Palace and still no one would come to see her. This was, literally, the fifth Christmas she'd spent by herself. The timing for friends never worked out and her parents were always off in Monaco or some such place, avoiding the weather. Her mom had already called earlier that night, so she wouldn't hear any more from them for a few days now. She sighed yet again and pulled off her underthings, stepping into the water. She was drunker than she wanted to admit, though, missing her footing, squealing and tumbling into the tub with a splash. Ginny came to the surface, sputtering and hissing in outrage. Why couldn't anything work out? Oatmeal just stared at her impassively. "You win this time, gravity;" she growled, displeased with her inelegant entrance. Well, at least she'd been smart enough to put down the jug of nog before trying to get in. She turned on the jets and retrieved her beverage, taking another big pull as the tub rumbled to life. Ginny laid back her head against one of the padded rests and tried to relax, to let her frustrations go. She turned on the jets and allowed one to massage her lower back while sipping at a glass of wine. She tried to put the frustrations of the holiday behind her, to let go of the feelings of rejection and somehow not belonging. "Why did I but this new fucking home if no one was interested in visiting? Everyone said they thought it was so great, but months later, still no visitors. Do I really not matter that much?" It annoyed her to think not only that she was alone, but that doubtless most of the people who had ditched her were at home getting laid. Claire was doubtless face down and ass up on her bed, getting plowed from behind by Guido. Even Mr. Reese, the old geezer, was probably getting some, either from his wife or maybe one of his secretaries. She sighed heavily and sat up, putting her now-empty wine glass aside and deciding that just because she was alone on Christmas Eve didn't mean she wasn't owed at least one good orgasm. She leaned forward and rested her forearms on the padded edge of the hot tub, positioning herself so that one of her jets, the one she'd named 'Juan', was right behind her. She felt the flow of water begin to caress her and she rested her head on her forearms as she wiggled further back, feeling the jet more strongly now as it pushed against her ass and her cunt. With a sigh, she found the perfect distance and pressed her face down into her arms, letting Juan work his magic. Water pressure massaged her cunt lips, strong enough to part them and to tease her clit, sending thrills through her. She shuddered and sighed loudly, forgetting, for now, how much men sucked. She bit the knuckle of her index finger, lost in reverie. God, if only it were a man fucking her. "Alone; on fucking Christmas; where's, ah!, where's the justice in that?" She was sweating now and panting as the relentless jets battered her nether tinglies, the sensations overwhelming her steadily. She clenched her teeth and her fists, straining as she fought to hold on a little longer. She moaned very loudly, her whole body shaking as Juan delivered a wonderful orgasm. She panted and groaned shamelessly, knowing that no one was around to see her in her pent-up, frustrated lust, expending it on her Jacuzzi jets. The scintillating lights behind her eyes, however, were over all too quickly and the climax subsided, replaced by a juddering sensitivity that made Juan's caress too much to bear. She collapsed against the edge of the hot tub, moving her ass away from the jet. "Alone; again;" She may have needed the orgasm, but it did nothing to improve her mood. It didn't help that the song 'This Christmas' by Shoes had begun playing as the cumming ended. When it finally felt like her legs would work again, she turned around and slumped into a corner of the tub, as far from Juan as possible. Ginny stayed still for some time, until her feet and fingers felt that annoying level of pruny that made everything awful to touch. With the heat of the water and all the alcohol she'd drunk, she was feeling rather light-headed, so she turned off the stereo and shut off the lights. She found a plate of her fucked-up and burnt gingerbread cookies and left them on a table near the fireplace along with the jug of nog before beginning to head upstairs to bed. "Yeah. Fuck this day. And fuck tomorrow too. Maybe if I stay drunk enough it'll just fly by. Fuck Christmas." The second floor was an open space in the middle, looking down onto the main floor. A set of stairs led up on either side and the bedrooms were spaced around the gallery. She'd loved the design when she bought it, but this only increased her frustration when no one ever came to visit. "Gorgeous fucking house; ten acres of beautiful nature filled with deer and ugly-ass wild turkeys; a fucking pond people could skate on; shit, I even found a patch of landrace back there! What's not to love about my new home? Why aren't people shitting themselves in jealousy?" She reached the master bedroom, sighing at how big it felt since she had no one to share it with. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her naked body and sighing. She was trim and fit, with nicely-sized boobs, she kept her cunt shaved smooth and her full lips were simply made to suck cock. Her skin was fair and even and her dark brown hair was long enough to pull on if you were fucking her ass or taking her from behind. So what the hell was wrong? The bed was certainly big enough for two (or maybe her and two guys who didn't mind getting close), but she plunked herself down into it and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop drunk-spinning. It took longer than she wanted it to, but things finally slowed down an she breathed deeply. She reached over with her hand and fumbled around inside the drawer of the nightstand. She finally withdrew an elegant glass dildo, a barely opaque white with bright red stripes curling around it to simulate a candy cane. It had been a Christmas gift from Claire, who had jokingly given it to her until she found a man for herself. That bitch. "Well, Frosty," she sighed, examining him. "Looks like it's you and me tomorrow. I promise to not get out of bed except to go to the bathroom or get more booze, okay? Because I'm here for you;" And with that she kissed the dildo and put it aside. She turned out her lamp and sighed deeply as she lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to take her. "Fuck Christmas;" A noise from downstairs. Her eyes snapped open. She was sure she'd heard something. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took deep breaths to try and calm herself, reasoning that she'd been drunk and it might just be hangover noises. Maybe just something like branches scraping on the roof or across the walls? Ginny felt a flush of anger and slowly rose, getting out of bed and putting on a plush yellow robe. There were definitely sounds downstairs. She grabbed her rape whistle and her high-school field hockey stick off the wall before quietly opening the door and proceeding out of the room. Her cheeks flushed with fear and anger. How dare someone invade her house? And in this fucking weather! "Burglars? Ruffians? Escaped cons?" "Well, at least if they see you they might have their way with you and break your dry spell." She shook the vile notion from her head, wondering where the hell that'd come from. Could she be that desperate to get laid? Ginny walked as quietly as she could, hearing noises on the roof. Raccoons? Looking to get in from the cold? Fucking trash pandas. She rounded the corner of the gallery and put her foot on the top step, her hockey stick ready. She crept down the stairs, still hearing the noises. They seemed to be coming from her living room. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to identify anything that might be amiss. Then she saw him, a symphony of red trimmed in white, the huge ass swaying back and forth as the intruder was bent over her at the base of her Christmas tree, doing God only knows what to it. He seemed to be humming to himself. She walked up silently until she was maybe ten feet away from him, her hockey stick over her shoulder, ready to swing. He didn't hear her or took no notice of her. "I don't want to hurt you," she growled through clenched teeth. "But you'd best get the fuck out of my house or I'll hit you so hard Google won't be able to find you." The person in red paused in their activities and then stood up slowly. After another moment's pause, they stood up and turned around slowly. He was slightly taller than average and quite a bit fatter than societal norms allowed. He had a fat face with dancing blue eyes and red cheeks. Beneath the tapered red hat was long, silvery-white hair and a very full beard and moustache. The intruder looked at her and grinned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked with a voice that could only be described as jolly. Ginny said nothing. She seemed to be rooted to the spot. She wanted to say something, anything, but she seemed to have been robbed of the power of speech. "W, who;" she finally managed to stammer. "Yes, Virginia," the visitor said quietly but pleasantly in a soothing voice. "There really is a Santa Claus." She blinked and shook her head, trying to articulate a coherent thought. The big man in red chuckled, clearly amused by her predicament. "Your egg nog was very good," he mentioned as he walked forward a little. "Your cookies needed a little work, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe a cookbook next year?" "Stay still!" she snapped, suddenly coming out of her stupor and holding the hockey stick behind her head as if she was winding up for a hit. "I'll deck you, old man!" "Oh, there's no need for that," he said cheerfully, totally unconcerned by her threat. "It's been a rough year for you, hasn't it, Ginny?" "Why do you know my name?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of course I know it," the man claiming to be Santa said jovially. "I'd be pretty lousy at my job if I didn't, right?" "If you're really Santa," she said tightly, still not understanding why she hadn't knocked this guy's head off his shoulders yet. "Then what was I doing the night of October seventeenth last year?" He tilted his head to the side a little and pursed his lips. "Are you sure?" "C'mon, you haven't got all day." "Very well," he said, sighing. "You were sitting in McPhearson's Pub, waiting vainly for Greg from IT to show up, because you'd given him a blowjob in the bathroom earlier that day and promised him more. But he went off with Becky from Accounts that night instead of meeting up with you." She blushed furiously at the memory. "I; that wasn't the day I meant! I meant the sixteenth!" He shrugged. "You had the day off and were really frustrated. You slid a condom over that very field hockey stick and used it on yourself, just to see what it was like." Ginny dropped the stick very suddenly. "How the hell do you know that, you perv?" The man shrugged. "I know all about you, Ginny. And every other boy and girl in the world" "Don't give me that horseshit!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I had too many Christmases where I didn't get what I want to buy into that cockamamie story!" "Well, you weren't exactly the most exemplary child, were you?" he reasoned. "I mean, you weren't horrible, it's not like you were out kicking puppies into woodchippers, but you spent more time in the naughty column that the good column, didn't you?" "What did I ever do that was so naughty?" she demanded hotly, her fists bunched up at her sides. "You and your brother could get rather friendly, couldn't you?" the man calling himself Santa pointed out. She faltered for a moment. "Lots of siblings play doctor. And those atomic booty bombs where I kept jumping in the air and landing on him were just playful." "While naked?" Santa asked, raising a bushy white eyebrow. Ginny blushed. "But that wasn't what landed you on the naughty list," he added. "What got you blacklisted was that you lied about doing your homework or cleaning your room while you were messing around with your brother. Your mom and dad would ask you to do your math and you'd slip away to play doctor instead and tell them you'd finished your homework after. Lying is naughty, right?" "Woah, hold the phone here," she said loudly, holding her head as if she was suddenly dizzy from a revelation. She didn't seem to notice that her robe had opened slightly, exposing her cleavage. "Are you fucking kidding me? Fibbing to my parents kept me from getting the gifts I wanted?" "Were the rules unclear?" Santa asked. "I thought the songs on the subject were so easy to follow." Ginny pinched her eyes in exasperation and then scowled at him. "I'm drunk," she concluded, trying to convince herself none of this was real. "I'm drunker than Sarah Palin and you're not really here. I'm still in bed and this is all bullshit." Santa shrugged. "I was putting stuff under your tree until you arrived and enjoying the nog. I won't mind if you go back to bed." "No, you're not getting off that easily," she said in annoyance. "You broke into my house in the middle of the storm of the fucking century and I want answers, dammit!" He shrugged. "Fair enough. Ask away." Her eyes narrowed again. "Aren't you on kind of a time crunch? Unless I'm the last person on your delivery list, don't you still have a shit ton of houses to visit? Say, a few hundred million?" He waved it off. "I've got it covered, I promise. I have all the time in the world for you, Ginny. I always have." "What, so you sub-contract out?" she said snidely. "Got FedEx making the rounds for you? Or maybe your 'Elves'?" She mentioned the last bit with air quotes. "Goodness, this has been a bad year for you, hasn't it?" he said sympathetically. "But to answer your question, I am capable of being many places at once." "Oh, so now you're the Kwizatz-Haderach?" she asked archly. "Hey, it's not just cinnamon I put in my Christmas cider." Santa chuckled. "It's rather complicated to explain." "So do you, like, clone yourself?" she asked, her guard seeming to slowly come down. "No, not at all," he said, shaking his head. "It involves Cherenkov Radiation, a Holmes field, a Gellar field and, to quote a friend of mine, 'a lot of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey; stuff.'" "So it's some sort of deep quantum shit?" she asked, her body finally relaxing. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, it's very temporal and quantum. I can be many places at once. It's why I don't have to pay for billions in window repairs every year by going supersonic around the world." "So even while you're talking to me, you're delivering presents?" she asked, the sheer depth of the conversation hitting her now. She walked over to a stool and sat on it. "Like I said, it's difficult to explain without breaking out the chalkboard and calculator," he answered. "The magnetic lines between the poles help, especially the one that emanates from the Fortress of Solitude." Ginny blinked. "Fortress of Solitude? As in Superman? You're friends with Superman?" "Of course not!" the jolly man laughed. "There's no such thing as Superman, silly, he's a comic book character. Had you going, though." "Holy shit, Santa's a troll," she exclaimed, looking at him in bewilderment. "Well, okay, let's assume that this is all real and not a vivid hallucination resulting from a brain tumor. If I've been such a brat all these years, how do I make up for it? How do I get off the naughty girl list?" "Well, a little restraint would be a start," Santa suggested. "I'm not saying go out and become a Carthusian nun or a Buddhist priestess or anything, but you might try laying off the rampant promiscuity." "Why is that so bad?" she demanded. "What's so wrong with wanting to get banged?" "Nothing," he said simply. "But inevitably you get yourself into some kind of weird situation and end up lying your behind off and lying is a naughty thing to do. So try keeping your legs bolted together a little more." "Really;" she said, clearly not impressed. "Celibacy lessons from Santa Claus. Now I've heard everything." "According to my report here and speaking frankly, it's taken guys a lot less attractive than me a lot less effort to get you out of your clothes." Santa mentioned. "This coming from a guy who could clearly use a few P90-X sessions!" she shot back hotly, standing up, her robe opening further as she stomped toward him. He looked down at himself for a moment and guffawed. "Oh, right, I keep forgetting about that; hang on;" The man held his hands out to his sides and began to glow. The luminous display lit up the room progressively and Ginny held her hand in front of her face when it became too bright to look at for several seconds. When the light finally died away, leaving them once again in the softly lit living room, Ginny gaped in shock at what she saw. He was tall, powerfully built, with chiseled muscles, an eight pack and flawless, healthy skin. He'd removed his coat but the red pants remained, stretched tight over muscular thighs. Long, wavy, copper-colored hair fell past his shoulders and the full beard was reddish-gold. The sapphire-blue eyes stared down at her, still glittering with mirth. "Holy Jesus on a pogo stick;" she breathed, her voice little more than a whisper. "You're a total lumbersexual;" "This is what I really look like," he said, spreading his hands out to the sides and showing her his body. His chest rippled as the muscles flexed with the motion. "But kids react to the fat old man disguise better." "I'll bet mothers don't," she murmured, coming forward as if compelled and reaching out to touch his chest and washboard abs. "It's like you're Photo-shopped." He smiled as her hands caressed his abs. "You make me want to not get off the naughty list." "I think I know what you really want for Christmas;" he said slyly. Ginny paused and looked up at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" "No, I can't lie." the man in red pants replied. "I thought it was Superman who couldn't lie." "Well, the writers had to get that idea from somewhere, I guess." Santa mused. "In any event, if you want, you could end up on the good girl list by being rather naughty." She stared at him. "So; get laid by Santa for Christmas?" He shrugged. "There might be some other goodies in the bag for you, but I think we both know what Ginny really wants and needs for Christmas." "This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy!" she thought to herself, wrestling with her sensibilities. "If this is all just a dream, then I can fuck hunky Santa and have no regrets. If this is real, I can fuck sexy Santa and remember it in the morning! It's win-win!" "Well, this is super-easy," she declared. "Santa, I want you to fuck my brains out for Christmas." "With pleasure, Ginny!" he said, laughing merrily. "Whatever you like, however you want it. I have to keep the kiddies happy." "Good, but just don't say 'kiddies' anymore, because that's kinda creepy," she said, throwing her caution to the wind. She knelt down in front of him, putting her hands on the oversized silver belt buckle and undoing it. Letting it drop, she put her fingers on the front of his pants, caressing them over the crotch. Her mouth went dry. "That'd better not be a secondary present sack you're teasing me with;" Ginny hooked her fingers into the top of the velvety pants and pulled them down, revealing his cock. She drew in her breath slowly, her eyes widening. "Jesus," she muttered. "You're hung like a fat kid's Christmas stocking;" "Thanks, I make due." Santa said cheerfully, watching her admire his cock. "By the way, shouldn't I call you something else?" she asked, looking up at him while her hand reached up to take his huge shaft, wrapping around it, barely. "I mean, most people call you Santa Claus, but isn't your name Nick or Kris or something?" He shrugged again, grinning. "Nick, Kris, Klaus, Pelznickel, Joulupukki, Kanakaloka, Dun Che Lao Ren, Weihnachtsmann, Swiety Mikolaj, Hoteiosho, Jultomten, I don't mind, Ginny. I just like hearing you say my name the way you think of me." "Hmm, Santa;" she replied, smiling as she stroked her hand along his shaft, eyeing it hungrily. How the hell was she going to fit that all in her mouth, forget her aching cunt? "Ah, don't use that word," he chided, holding up a finger. "Some words are still naughty, even when you're an adult." "Stay out of my mind then, creeper." Ginny said as she leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the fat head of his cock. She flicked it around the tip and then slowly took it inside her mouth, tongue rolling against it. "The hell? How can his cock taste like mint?" "Just wait til you taste my cum." Santa said, leering. "Fine, but it better not taste like turkey gravy or we're gonna box." Ginny said as she pulled her mouth back for a moment. She pumped her hand gently along the shaft, studying her quarry intently. It was definitely the biggest cock she'd ever taken on, and the best-tasting. She'd been experiencing trippy magic all evening, maybe she could fit this monster in her mouth this one night; She put the head back in her mouth and relaxed, slowly pushing down the shaft. She moaned as she felt him slide to the back of her mouth and then to her throat. She felt him tremble and lay a huge but gentle hand on the back of her head. "Holy shit; I'm deep-throating Santa Claus;" Ginny took a deep breath through her nose and then tried to relax. Her whole body was tingling with excitement and the whole minty cock thing was throwing her off. Her tongue undulated along the underside of his shaft while the fingers of one hand formed a ring around the base of his cock and the other cupped his balls, fondling them. Ginny was proud of her cocksucking skills and if there was anyone she ever needed to impress with them (aside from her 11th Grade math teacher), it was probably Santa. She calmed herself and began pulling her mouth back along his length, humming and letting her lips vibrate softly on his sensitive skin. "Now I know why Mister Bondi gave you that A in math," Santa chuckled. "You're a very naughty girl, Virginia." "Hmm, only for you, Santa baby;" she cooed as she pulled her mouth off his cock long enough to respond, stroking slowly and swirling her tongue around the head again. She then slid back down the entire length, moaning in pleasure. She could feel her nipples getting hard and her cunt was very, very wet beneath her robe. Both his hands were on the back of her head now and holding her gently but firmly. She began to slowly bob back and forth, thrilled at how she was able to take this enormous beast of a cock all the way in her mouth. Sure, maybe there was some weird physics involved that compressed space and time or some shit, but she didn't care and he certainly didn't seem to mind. "Hmm, very good, Virginia;" he said softly, stroking her hair. No one ever called her Virginia and she didn't know why it gave her a tingle when he did. His cock was very full and very hard now, like a pulsing iron rod covered in mint-flavored velvet. She almost giggled at the thought of how crazy this all was. She really hoped it wasn't a dream. Her thumb began to squeeze along the underside of his cock as her hand followed her mouth up and down his length. The shaft glistened wetly and the mint was making her drool. She undid her robe and let it fall away, the air of the room kissing her flushed skin. Her hands now took hold of his powerful thighs and she began moving back and forth along his cock more quickly. She could feel his hands flexing in her long, dark hair, caressing her skin. Breathing through her nose, she moaned as she sucked ardently, her cunt almost aching with desire. She was hoping he would last long enough to fuck her when he went rigid suddenly and groaned, gripping her head tightly and his hips shuddering. Ginny's eyes widened as she felt him began to cum inside her mouth, spurting strongly. She began swallowing hastily, almost in a panic as Santa pumped his hips against her face. "Holy shit! Fucking eggnog?" He kept cumming and she was sure she might actually drown when he pulled his huge cock out of her mouth and pumped it furiously in his hand, spattering her tits and stomach with his glistening load. She'd never seen so much cum in her life. It tingled on her skin. Finally, Santa relaxed, allowing Ginny to put her mouth back around his cock and suck the rest of his cum from him. He was sighing and breathing rather heavily, apparently having enjoyed himself. She eventually released him and smiled up at him wickedly. "So," she cooed, winking while she gently pumped his cock with her hand. "Am I back on the good girl list?" "Oh, I'd think so," he said, grinned. "But it's not like I've given you your whole present yet." "Jeez, you can still go?" she asked almost in disbelief but also delighted. She really needed to be fucked hard now. "Your cock taste like mint, your cum tastes like nog, your ass probably tastes like hot cocoa or nutmeg and you can keep it up all night?" "Up all night is kind of my thing, at least once a year." Santa said cheerfully. "So how would you like for me to give you the rest of your present, Virginia?" "Well, golly, Santa," she mused, making a show of thinking while she stroked his cock. "Since you seem to be the gift that keeps on giving, how about we just wing it?" He nodded and she stood up, keeping hold of his cock and gently led him over to the large chesterfield, hoping it would hold his rather muscular frame. She knelt on it, resting her arms along the raised back and smiled at him, wiggling her behind. She wouldn't believe how wet her cunt was. "You gonna hurry down my chimney, Santa-baby?" she asked, smiling slyly. "I can't believe you just said that!" he laughed jovially. He may not have been older, fatter Santa, but the laugh still definitely suited him. He stepped up behind her and took gentle hold of her hips. She could feel him press against her ass and she shivered in anticipation. He slid his massive cock up and down between her ass cheeks, teasing her until she was writhing in desperation. He seemed to know instinctively what she loved most. Which only made sense, since he was Santa. "Ready, Virginia?" he asked as he pressed the huge mushroom head against her sticky cunt. She nodded eagerly, unwilling to speak. He slid the head in, parting her lips and penetrating her. She groaned loudly as he began to stretch her inner walls. With a slow, steady push of his hips, he pushed the entire length of his cock deep inside her. It robbed her of her breath, she'd never felt so full in her life, even that one time she'd been so horny she'd fucked her parent's bedpost. "Ah; uh;" she gasped, eyes wide. The sensations were like nothing she'd ever experienced. His cock completely filled her to a delightful stretch that didn't hurt except in the good way. His iron shaft throbbed in time with her heartbeat. It was wonderfully warm but also strangely cool all at once, tingling, like mint again. How the hell could her cunt taste peppermint? "Language, Virginia;" he chided again as he pressed in just a little bit further. By right his cockhead should have bruising her brainstem, but there was no doubt some weird physics shit involved that she decided not to think about. She was getting fucked by Santa, after all. She pressed her forehead against the back of the couch and tried squeezing her cunt around his titan cock or pressing back against him, squirming her ass against his hips. She shuddered in delight, loving how he felt inside her. His hands reached under her body and squeezed and massaged her tits, sending delicious thrills through her. He began to move slowly back and forth, pulling back until just the tip was inside her and pushing in steadily, almost robbing her of breath. She began to feel like a blacksmith's bellows very quickly. The feel of his cock sliding inside her, stretching her and touching deep inside in ways she hadn't known were possible; "Oh my god;" she gasped, fingers digging into the back of the couch. "You're tearing me apart and I love it;" "Only the best for my Virginia," he said, his ruddy cheeks taking on a flush tone as he fucked her. Her fingers squeezed the meat of her thighs and hips or flexed on her ass cheeks. His heavy balls slapped against her cunt as he drove inside her. Strong yet gentle, forceful and commanding yet accommodating. She felt dominated yet exalted somehow. His hand wrapped in her hair and she groaned loudly as he pulled on it, craning her neck. She shuddered in pleasure, feeling her spine almost accordion as he thrust inside while pulling her head back. Her could feel the pulse of his cock through her whole body. Her nails scratched along the couch, almost clawing it. "Uh, you're gonna make me cum so fucking hard;" she wailed, feeling the sweat forming on her skin. "Oh my gawd;" "You're going to make me cum hard too," he panted, thrusting deep inside, thumping his hips against her ass. "You feel wonderful and tight, Virginia;" "Oh, God, he's gonna cum in me;" she realized. "Santa's gonna fucking cum in me and he's not wearing anything! Will my birth control work? Shit, will my kids always smell like mint?" "Oh, God, cum in me!" she panted, thrusting herself back against him and grinding shamelessly. "Fucking cum in me, Santa!" "Ya want me to cum in you?" he hissed, his body beginning to tremble. It felt like his cock was getting bigger inside her. "Want my cum in you?" "God, yes!" Ginny squeaked, clenching her teeth. "Fucking cum in me and make me scream!" They strained against one another desperately and then she cried out as a massive orgasm crashed over her. It battered her senses as she felt his hot-yet-tingly-cool cum bathing her insides relentlessly. Her cunt was making greedy sucking sounds as she came, her whole body shuddering almost uncontrollably. She squeezed and clenched and rippled her tight tunnel round him, reveling in the way he stretched and penetrated her ever more deeply. She collapsed against the chesterfield, panting heavily, her body drenched in sweat. His massive, hard cock was still deep inside her, pinning her to him. She felt like she was made of lead, an exquisite exhaustion while pleasure crawled over her languidly. That was beyond anything she had ever experienced. But he didn't seem to be done with her. His powerful hands took hold of Ginny and turned her around so she was squatting on the couch, her knees spread wide and her arms slung across the high back. She looked up at him in weary astonishment as he nestled himself between her legs and pressed his cock against her sopping cunt again. "Ah!" she wailed as he slid deep inside her again, his huge cock splitting her wide. Her nails dug into the couch again and she clenched her teeth as she sucked in her breath. Ginny tried to regulate her breathing while Santa began sliding in and out slowly, looking down at her with those penetrating blue eyes. "Jesus," she grunted, feeling almost like a rag doll in his hands, which gripped her hips. "Gonna fucking kill me with that thing!" "Oh, let's hope not," he replied, thrusting into her strongly. "I'm nowhere near done with you." She gazed up at him, trembling as he fucked her good and hard. She bit her lip as he squeezed her thighs, before moving his hands up to squeeze her tits, pinching her nipples. She groaned shamelessly as the delicious sting electrified her senses. She tried to squeeze herself around him, baffled by how big he felt inside her. She gasped and whimpered as he slapped her cunt lightly. She reached forward and raked her nails over his powerful chest, leaving red marks along the defined muscles. She ground her hips against him wantonly, thrilling to the look of pleasure on this face. "Uh, fuckin' wreck me;" she gasped, feeling another massive climax building inside her. "Make me cum on that beautiful cock, Santa!" "I'll take 'Things Virginia Never Thought She'd Ever Hear Herself Say' for a thousand, Alex!" he laughed. He reached down and took her ass her hands and pulled her closer, smiling warmly yet wickedly into her eyes as she sank further onto his cock, which penetrated her to the deepest depths yet. She could feel the head pressing against her womb. It didn't hurt, but she felt fuller and more stretched than ever. She felt him squeeze her ass cheeks while he thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight, bumping up and down on his powerful thighs. She moaned loudly and bit his shoulder, trying not to shriek. She tried to squeeze herself around him again, finding that she could barely control her muscles, let alone fuck. She bit down as the warmth spread through her, tears of pleasure in her eyes. He thumped his hips against her even more strongly and they strained against one another. Then he growled and released himself, pumping her once again full of his tingling cum. She shuddered and cried out loudly, her head spinning from the unreal ecstasy. Crushing herself to him, Ginny held on desperately, like a ship battered by an unrelenting storm. They both slumped onto the couch, breathing heavily. She felt small and almost cocooned in his embrace. She was covered in a heavy sheen of sweat and could feel the thrilling tingle of his cum trickling out of her cunt. It wouldn't be a stain on her couch, it was a mark of honor. Their hearts pounded in rhythm as the orgasm passed over them and slowly flowed away. "Holy shit;" she whispered, her body still limp in his arms. "I think you've ruined me for sex. I should be mad;" "You have to admit, it makes sense that I'm better at gift-giving than anyone else on the planet." Santa reasoned, smiling and stroking her hair while she sat in his lap. "I'd say you were a little pent up there." "Mild understatement," she moaned, finally raising her head and smiling up at him. "Thank you, first of all. That was the best thing I've ever felt in my life." "I aim to please," he said cheerfully, caressing his thumb across her cheek and enjoying the shining look in her eyes. "Kinda my thing, after all." "So," Ginny purred, walking to fingers up his broad chest. "Is there a Mrs. Claus?" He shrugged. "There has been, of course." She paused suddenly and looked up at him, her smile replaced by a deadpan look. "What do you mean, there has been?" He seemed somewhat confused by her change in demeanor. "Well, there has been a few in the past, of course, there was Seeki first, then there was Ahoop, followed by Annalina, then Layla, Martha, Juliana, Gretchen and Jessica, Santarina, Kasey, Mary;" "I see," she said stonily. "You've had more wives than Elizabeth Taylor had husbands." "Well, to be fair, they've been spread over a long period of time." Santa replied. "And they were all special to me." "So then I'm not special." Ginny said flatly. "Well of course you are," he said, not understanding her mood swing. "You're my Virginia." "And Becky down the street is your Becky, and Sarah in the blue house is your Sarah and Hilda in Dusseldorf is your Hilda," she concluded. "Everyone's equally special to you, aren't they?" He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, I'm not being fair," she sighed. "I just; well, I thought maybe this; ya know, tonight, was truly special. And clearly you're not good at lying." "Well, no, not at all." Santa agreed, still holding her and wondering how he could comfort her. "I can't lie." "Like, literally can't?" she asked, now curious more than anything. "It's part of your genetic makeup that you can't lie?" "No, nothing like that," he admitted. "But after spending centuries with kids and teaching them to always tell the truth, I haven't tried telling a lie in so long I don't even know how to do it." "You don't know how to lie?" she mused. "If I did, it wouldn't be the least bit believable," he said. "Like, if I said right now that your breath smells wonderful and not like old eggnog and vomit, I somehow doubt you'd believe my lie." "No shit," Ginny replied, giving him a stony look. "You're a horrible liar. You've got the subtlety of a cement truck. Good thing you're Santa and don't have to date to charm a girl." He held her close, hugging her tight to comfort her. She sighed deeply, still impaled on his hard cock, which showed no sign of abating. "God, I can't believe you've still got wood after cumming like a fire hydrant three times," she said, her mood softening. She was having the best sex of her life, she reminded herself not to ruin it by being crazy. "How long can you keep going?" He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "How long do you need me to?" "Actually, it doesn't surprise me that's your answer." Ginny said, smirking. "If you've got the time, I've got another itch that needs scratching." He grinned. "So you haven't broken in that hot tub yet, have you?" "Oh, Santa;" she purred, leaning in and biting his earlobe. "Like you don't make me wet already." He picked her up and carried her toward the Jacuzzi, deftly turning it on with his foot and bringing it rumbling to life. He stepped down into the churning water, setting her one of the seats. As he stood up, she leaned forward and hungrily took his enormous cock into her mouth, sucking ardently. She moved forward and knelt in the water, her hands on his hips again or stroking his balls. He picked her up bodily and turned her upside. Ginny squeaked in surprise at first but found his hips in front of her and began sucking again on his tool without delay. He buried his face in her cunt, tongue snaking deep inside her and she groaned gutturally, Holding her in place with one powerful hand, her teased her taint and then pressed a finger into her ass. "Jesus!" she gasped, almost choking on his cock as he wormed the finger down into her tight tunnel. "Oh, fuck! Your finger is bigger than some dicks I've fucked!" She attacked his cock again eagerly, bobbing back and forth like her life depended on it. She squirmed in his grip as he lashed her cunt with his tongue and fingered her ass. Her fingernails dug into his thighs and her knees locked around his neck. His cock throbbed in her mouth, still thrilling her with its unique and incredible taste. He turned her around again and paid her on the edge of the hot tub, spreading her legs wide. She looked on wantonly as he pushed his tongue back inside her again. He gripped her thighs to hold her in place and she groaned and squirmed, squeezing her tits and pulling on her nipples. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he drove her to the limit of her sensations. Ginny shook and thrashed as she cried out loudly, cumming on his face. He didn't let up, lapping at her essence eagerly. She lay like a dead thing for several seconds before her chest began to rise and fall. Her eyes opened, gazing back at him. She couldn't feel her limbs, just floating on a tingling ocean of deep colors. Santa looked up at her and smiled, pulling his tongue out of her cunt and kissing her clit gently. She shivered at the touch. "One hole left, Santa," she breathed, her body glistening. "Got any left in you to perfect my Christmas?" "Always for you, Virginia." Santa said warmly, standing and raising her gently into a sitting position. He settled down into the water on one of the seats and then pulled her onto his lap, facing away from him. She moved her hips around until she found his rock-hard cock, waiting for her. She placed her puckered knot against it, giggling as she thought about what he was about to do to her. She took his shaft in her hand and held it steady while she sank down, very slowly. Ginny gasped and shivered as the head pushed aside the tight ring of muscle, popping inside her. Then she sighed as she lowered herself, feeling his massive cock stretching her tight tunnel wide. God, she felt so full it was unreal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her ass cheeks pressed to his lap. He was all the way inside her ass and her held her closed as she settled back against him, purring in sensual pleasure. "Umm, it's never felt this good in my ass before," she said softly, her arms reaching back to curl around his neck. She gyrated slowly on his lap, moaning softly. "A gal could get used to this." His muscular arms wrapped around her and caressed Ginny's body, massaging her tits. She loved how she felt pinned to him. She had finally found the measure of her body and began to squeeze her tight ass around his cock. She squirmed in slow circles on his lap, wishing she had some music to fuck him to. Her stereo system suddenly came on and began playing 'It's Cold Outside'. She giggled and squeezed his neck gently at his thoughtfulness. "You think of everything, don't you?" she purred, lost in her pleasure. "I can't wait to make you cum again." He smiled wickedly and pulled gently on her nipples, causing her to groan at the welcome sting. She pressed her ass back into his lap, squeezing again around his throbbing shaft. The water bubbled and churned around her waist, the heat leaving her skin shining. She began to pant as she moved her hips faster, stopping the circular motions and started to move up and down, his cock sliding in and out of her. Santa took hold of her hips and let her bounce on his lap. Ginny leaned forward, gasping as she fondled her tits, overcome with a liquid heat as his cock impaled her faster and faster. Water splashed around them as the fucking took on an almost frantic pace. Ginny had never felt anything in her ass like this before, nothing even close to this good. She could very easily become an addict. "Uh, fuck!" she grunted, slamming her ass down on him while one hand snaked down and began massaging her cunt and clit. His hands steadied her and helped moved her up and down. She could feel his hips trembling beneath her, his fingers flexing and squeezing her skin. Her panting became a long, drawn-out keening. She clenched her teeth, shuddering and straining as she tried to prolong the fucking; Ginny screamed and pushed herself back against his massive chest violently, thrashing as she clenched his cock inside her ass while he came. His cream flooded inside her, the unreal hot-cool tingling transporting her. He growled in her ear, almost crushing her comparatively tiny frame against himself. She collapsed, utterly exhausted, her chest rising and falling as the world spun around her. She felt him holding her gently, caressing her body in unique ways that seemed to; regulate her blood flow and nerve sensations, making the post-orgasmic bliss she was feeling last as long as possible. She felt herself smile and hum at his consideration, understanding this this is who he was and what he was meant to do. Ginny then did something she almost never did during sex, she leaned her head back, pressed her lips to his and kissed him deeply and with great affection. She held it for as long as she could and then sank back into his embrace, sighing in contentment. "Wish you were advertising for a Mrs. Claus at the moment," she said softly. "I could get used to this." "I like things the way they are," he replied, hugging her. "Every year I get to reward you for being a good girl. What could be better than that?" "True, I guess," Ginny agreed. "I'm only human, all this sex could kill me." "Hey, I'm human too, you know," he chuckled. "Just because I'm immeasurably older than you and subject to quantum laws even my smartest elf couldn't explain doesn't mean I'm a member of some other species." "Okay, that's fair, although I'd still fuck you if you were an alien or some extra-dimensional being." Ginny admitted. "You've come in me a lot tonight, daddy. Do I need to” "No," he said cheerfully. "I'm not sterile, but you can't get pregnant unless I decide you will and I've never allowed it." "I wonder what a Santa kid would be like," she mused. "More like you or the mom?" "No idea," he confessed. "There's not exactly a manual, so I've never taken a chance." She slowly leaned forward and began to rise, shivering as she slid off his long cock and it popped out of her. She knelt and turned around to face him, not sure she could stand yet, looking up at his still hard cock and giggled, pressing her finger against the head. "Well, I think you can take him off duty, sir," she said sweetly. "I'm pretty sure that I'm all fucked out for the night, if not the whole season." He chuckled and let his cock soften, looking into her eyes and caressing his cheek. "Hopefully that was what you needed for Christmas." "Definitely, Santa." Ginny said, giggling. "Is it greedy to want the same present again next year?" "Not at all," he replied, grinning. "It cuts down on elf-labor hours if I can give people a gift mysteriously." Santa paused in speaking, going silent and looking around, as if listening for something. Neither of them touched the controls, but the motor for the jets turned off and all that could be heard was the howling roar of the winter storm outside. Ginny looked at him in confusion, wondering why his features hardened and a scowl crossed his normally jovial face. "That's no storm," he said in a low, growling voice. "Not a regular one, anyway." "What does that mean?" she asked, his reaction worrying her for reasons she couldn't readily explain. What the hell was a 'not regular' storm, according to Santa, or anyone else for that matter? He stood up and strode out of the hot tub, taking her by the hand and pulling her out with him. Their naked bodies glistened with water but this was the farthest thing from her mind. "What's going on?" she asked, his consternation beginning to frighten her now. She watched as he tossed her the robe she'd been wearing earlier and then started pulling on his pants and sturdy black boots. "It's just a winter storm! Isn't it?" "I wish that were true," he replied, his expression grim. "Listen to me very carefully, Virginia. I'll need you to follow me instructions precisely. Do you understand?" She nodded. "Okay, but” "Good," he said, cutting her off, his eyes flashing. "It's very important to your safety." "Can you at least tell me what's happening?" she pleaded. "Krampus." Santa muttered darkly as he wrapped bright red straps around his wrists, tightening them. "I should've been more careful." "What's Krampus?" she asked, going pale and she paused in putting on her robe, one of her tits hanging out. "Krampus isn't a what, Krampus is a who," he said, his eyes scanning the layout of her expansive living room. "He's also called Black Pete in some places and legend says he's supposed to be my evil henchman who punishes wicked children." "I take it that's not true, then?" she asked, looking around like he did, wondering what he was searching for. "Not even close," he growled. "Pardon my French, but Krampus is an evil sonofabitch. He was, at one time long ago, my dedicated helper, but he turned down the path of darkness, becoming twisted and diabolic. Forget punishing children, he wants to destroy Christmas, like it never happened." "What's that got to do with us here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Can he reach us in this storm?" "This storm is his doing, I recognize it now," Santa said, striding over to his huge Christmas bag and beginning to rummage in it. "A massive storm always precedes his arrival. It can be mistaken for a regular winter storm if you're not paying

Interview by Kris PetersAs with every other year, anticipation surrounding the first line up announcement for Good Things 2025 was almost at a fever pitch. Social media experts and promoter wannabe's all shared their projected line-ups - but most were well off the mark.Good Things is possibly one of the hardest festival line ups armchair critics get to sink their teeth into, with the diversity and seemingly flippant mashing of genres meaning pretty much any band from any genre could make the final cut. And this year was no exception.When TOOL were announced as headliners, a large number of punters were already scrambling for tickets, but a quick scan through the rest of the line up proves the eclectic tastes of organisers and the variety of live music on show for fans of most persuasions.Rock? Tick. Weezer, Garbage.Pop Punk? Tick. All Time Low, New Found Glory.Punk? Tick. Refused.Metal? Big tick. Machine Head. Knocked Loose, Lorna Shore.But there was one band name there that defied expectations. A band not even from this planet. A band dubbed 'Scumdogs Of The Universe'. A band like no other…And that band is GWAR. These guys have been devastating audiences the world over for more than 40 years, their incredible backstory and characters resonating just as much as their music. But it is in the live arena that GWAR excels. Their stage shows are legendary, so much so that filmmakers were driven to make a documentary on the band and their history called This Is Gwar.Yes, ladies and metalheads. This IS GWAR. And what follows is a brief transcript of HEAVY's interview with frontman Blöthar the Berserker, who, as you will be able to tell, is keen to get back to Australia and convert the country en route to enslaving the world. With Good Things sharing the same calendar month as Christmas, we ask Blothar if GWAR will be filling their red sacks with surprises for Aussie fans."(laughing) Well… mostly, when it comes to Christmas, we don't really hand out gifts as much as we take them," he offered. "Gwar is keeping alive that horrible tradition that the Dutch have, Black Pete. Can you believe that they did that? Who do these people think they are? But, seriously, that's what we do. We kidnap children, and we stuff them into stockings, and we turn them into coal and all of that stuff, then we run off with them to Morocco, or something like that. GWAR's not big on Christmas. We are friends with Krampus, though."We run through the line-up again and reiterate our early observation that GWAR are the proverbial black sheep of the Good Things line up, a point which is not lost on Blothar as we ask if the people of Australia are ready for the carnage."I don't know. They loved it last time that the band went down there," he shrugged. "We took a swipe at Tony Abbott and everybody got all upset - boo hoo - but I don't even know what's going on politically in Australia now. We've been very busy… we've got our own problems here to worry about. I think Australians are gonna love GWAR. GWAR is a band that is funny. That's the difference. And let me be clear about that. You go see a heavy metal band… you don't go and see a lot of heavy metal bands where everyone you look at is smiling. They're laughing and having a good time. They can't believe they're seeing… they feel inspired to go and do something creative themselves. That's what GWAR is. That is what GWAR is."In the full interview, Blothar talks more about the line up and gives his thoughts on spreading so many different genres through a festival, what has changed with GWAR since they were last out here, battling the oppressive Australian heat, what three songs punters should listen to if they aren't familiar with the band, where to research the backstory and find out more about the GWAR universe, their latest album The Return Of Gor Gor and how it was received, reaching 40 years as a band and more.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/heavy-music-interviews--2687660/support.

Dodds from Dodds in the Wild joins us to discuss the Artty situation, Ryan made a compilation of the best Artty moments and we say good by to our dead CEO. Black Pete is Santas partner and we have all the lore behind who he was. Ryan found his old pokemon card binder and it COULD have some rare Pokémon cards from the 90s and 2000s. Justin Trudeau gives us his reasons from importing so many Indians into Canada and we hear the story on Dr. Gay Hitler. All this and so much more on this weeks Clever Name Podcast. 

Durk Kooistra spreekt Michiel de Jong over de herkomst en betekenis van Sinterklaas en Zwarte Piet. Bronnen en links bij deze uitzending: - De site van Michiel de Jong, waar ook zijn boeken besteld kunnen worden: https://www.dekomediant.nl/ - Het YouTube-kanaal van Michiel de Jong:  @dekomediant  - Een eerder gesprek tussen Durk en Michiel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZvasTHqOKY - 'Changing minds through argumentation: Black Pete as a case study': https://research.vu.nl/files/256191602/Changing_minds_through_argumentation.pdf - Wouter Post in gesprek met Henk Singor: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1HWLd15-LQ

In this week's Black World News, Kehinde Andrews makes plain the racism in continental Europe and how it hits differently to the UK; how Jamaica and other Black Caribbean islands (like Haiti) are not our home, they're prison colonies, and the solution: a global Black nation.- In this week's official guest interview, Kehinde Andrews talks with Mitchell Esajas "A Voice of Black Holland," from The Black Archives in Amsterdam. They talk about the great work the archive is doing to put the Black Dutch experience on the map. As well as the situation in Amsterdam, the far right rise, the Dutch king, prime minister, and the mayor of Amsterdam's apologies for enslavement. Not to mention the most popular Dutch tradition, Zwarte Piet (Black Pete) the years of resistance against the racist tradition, and the recent political development.   - Mitchell Esajas is co-founder and managing director of The New Urban Collective (NUC), a social enterprise and network for Black and POC, that manages The Black Archives (where Mitchell co-leads day-to-day activities). The Black Archives is an archive with more than 10,000 books and documents, exhibition space, and a cultural center. - BLACK WORLD NEWS LINKS Kick Out Zwarte Piet is calling it quits, it's now up to societyhttps://www.bnnvara.nl/joop/artikelen/kick-out-zwarte-piet-stopt-ermee-het-is-nu-aan-de-samenleving Presence of far-right MP Martin Bosma dishonours 1 July commemoration!https://www.theblackarchives.nl/blog/aanwezigheid-extreem-rechts-kamerlid-martin-bosma-onteert-1-juli-herdenking?lang=en - GUEST LINKS Atlanta Season 2 Episode 4: "Helen""I'm not wearing Black face" clip https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wr5dz8tgjC4 The Black Archives WebsiteThe Black Archives consists of unique book collections, archives and artifacts that are the legacy of Black Dutch writers and scientists. https://www.theblackarchives.nl/home.html The Black Archives Linktree https://linktr.ee/the_blackarchives The New Urban Collective https://www.nucnet.nl/ Broke-ish (Erika Brown + Amber Sims) In the Broke-ish space, we talk about being broke—broke and Black in America. We talk about all the unbelievable *ish that America has done to Black people to keep us in this broke-ish state.  https://brokeish.com/a White Innocence Paradoxes of Colonialism and Race https://www.dukeupress.edu/white-innocence - MIP LINKS Harambee Organisation of Black Unityhttps://www.blackunity.org.uk/ CAP25 - Convention of Afrikan People - Gambia - May 17-19, 2025 On Malcolm X's 100th birthday, the Harambee Organisation of Black Unity is bringing together those in Afrika and the Diaspora who want to fulfill Malcolm's legacy and build a global organization for Black people. This is an open invitation to anyone.https://make-it-plain.org/convention-of-afrikan-people/ BUF - Black United Front Global directory of Black organizations. This will be hosted completely free of charge so if you run a Black organization please email the name, address, website, and contact info to mip@blackunity.org.uk to be listed. - Guest: @mitch_positivity(IG) @the_blackarchives (IG) @theNUC1 Host: @kehindeandrews(IG) @kehindeandrews (T) Podcast team: @makeitplainorg @weylandmck @inhisownterms @farafinmuso Platform: www.make-it-plain.org (Blog) | www.youtube.com/@MakeItPlain1964 (YT) - For any help with your audio visit: https://weylandmck.com/

Welcome aboard our Safe Space Ship!   In the spirit of keeping momentum going as we #RenewAsACrew to #SaveOFMD, we are excited to  launch of our new Our Flag Means Death podcast, "Never Left"!   Your Co- Captains, Ariana Perry and Amanda Catron, will be hosting this completely spoiled, totally unofficial, deep dive into Our Flag Means Death.   Our first episode will be released on January 30th! Don't forget to follow us on social media, the links are in our linktree, as we prepare to dive in!  Feel free to contact us at neverleftofmd@gmail.com with any thoughts or questions   Our artwork was created by Amy Gleason, you can see more of her art @AmyBirdHouse on instagram and in the comic series Mighty Mascots.   Our theme music is Gnossienne 5 by Erik Satie, preformed by La Pianista     Image Description: A lighthouse stands above the inn, wrapped in a purple Kraken tentacle. The text reads "Never Left: Our Flag Means Death"

It's our Christmas episode.  Christmaschristmaschristmaschristmaschristmaschristmaschristmas.  We love it - the lights, the music, the cookies, the racist caricatures!  Ah, Christmas - the yuletide celebration that brings the world closer together.  A lovely time of year when we ask ourselves the eternal questions like: what is the meaning behind a black man dressed for a renaissance fair who has curly black hair and red red lips and puts children in a sack and beats them with a stick while taking them away to work in Spain. The meaning, in the Netherlands, is Christmas.  What a fun jolly time of year, and what a fun jolly sidekick-servant-slave-companion for St. Nicholas to have, a colorfully dressed black man who punishes naughty children by forcing them to work (for free) in Santa's toy shop in Spain. Listen, we get it.  Black Pete is racist.  But some Dutch people don't think so, they will argue with you, they will scream at you from their windmill houses, shaking their fists while throwing tulips and wooden shoes at you...be warned, the dutch are tolerant but that doesn't mean they will tolerate you talking smack about their beloved Zwarte Piet.  He's been around for 150 years and comes from a children's story book and you Americans have Rudolph and Frosty and your Santa is fat like all Americans and shame on you for your history! Go drink some coca-cola and celebrate capitalism, you Americans! Christmas gets ugly this year as we turn our attention to Dutch Delicious, a bakery in Edmonton (hello, Canada!) that thought it would be fun to share their Dutch cultural Christmas tradition of Black Pete with Canadians.  They weren't prepared for the backlash and quickly offered an apology and a new version of Black Pete, Chimney Pete - which leads us to ask another eternal question: will our listeners in the Netherlands ever forgive us for the windmill houses and throwing tulip jokes?

St. Nicholas' Day has passed, but we're not done with Christmas visitors yet. Santa has taken a few different forms over the centuries, and he's got an army of companions and alternates, too. Santa Claus takes inspiration from a variety of European folk  traditions,  and many of these old traditions have survived with modifications in the Christian era. In this episode we talk about a lot of our historically celebrated holiday gift bearers: - the Krampus of Central Europe; - the Ded Moroz of Russian winters; - the Icelandic Jolasveinar (Yule Trolls), the 13 hungry brothers who each stay a fortnight in the darkest part of the winter; - the truly monstrous Joulupukki  (Yule Goat) of Finnish tradition, thankfully he's softened up over the years; - Mos Gerila, the Romanian Communist holiday hunk;- the sloppy Christmas poop-log known as Tio de Nadal;- Germany's less celebrated Belsnickel was made famous by The Office's Dwight Schrute;- Italy's own Befana, the guide for the three magi;- and we certainly can't leave out the controversial Black Pete, but we're pleased to report that his image is getting a favourable update.All these get a special moment in the spotlight in addition to the time we spend exploring the real and imaginary histories of jolly old Saint Nicholas who eventually came to be known as Sinterklaas, or  Santa Claus. Naturally, this must include a discussion of the history of Chris Kringle (lit: "the Christ Child").All this and more.... Support us on Patreon or you can get our merch at Spreadshop.Join the Community on Discord.Learn more great religion factoids on Facebook and Instagram.

On Sunday evening Alabama guard Jahvon Quinerly unexpectedly announced intent to enter the transfer portal as a grad transfer. It's highly unlikely he makes sense for North Carolina, but it's worth having a preliminary conversation with the young man to determine the feasibility. The backcourt rotation appears to be full with RJ Davis, Elliot Cadeau, Seth Trimble, Cormac Ryan and Paxson Wojcik. Leaky Black and Pete Nance have each signed a contract with an NBA franchise. For Black, it's a two-way contract with the Charlotte Hornets. For Nance it's an Exhibit 10 contract with the (family legacy) Cleveland Cavaliers. We eagerly await their performance at summer league. Ian Jackson is in Belgium competing with the US U19 team. How will he stack up against his peers in this type environment? Follow & Subscribe on all Podcast platforms… 

On Sunday evening Alabama guard Jahvon Quinerly unexpectedly announced intent to enter the transfer portal as a grad transfer. It's highly unlikely he makes sense for North Carolina, but it's worth having a preliminary conversation with the young man to determine the feasibility. The backcourt rotation appears to be full with RJ Davis, Elliot Cadeau, Seth Trimble, Cormac Ryan and Paxson Wojcik.Leaky Black and Pete Nance have each signed a contract with an NBA franchise. For Black, it's a two-way contract with the Charlotte Hornets. For Nance it's an Exhibit 10 contract with the (family legacy) Cleveland Cavaliers. We eagerly await their performance at summer league.Ian Jackson is in Belgium competing with the US U19 team. How will he stack up against his peers in this type environment?Follow & Subscribe on all Podcast platforms… 

Although the Netherlands is internationally seen as a progressive country, the reality that many ethnic groups experience daily looks very different from the inside. In fact, over the past few decades, an ongoing battle against institutional racism has been taking place in the country. In this episode of Europe Talks Back, host Juli Simond tells the story of Marisella de Cuba, who was born on Aruba, a Caribbean island facing the coast of Venezuela that is part of the Kingdom of the Netherlands. When Marisella moved to the Netherlands' mainland at a young age, she found herself confronting a society plagued by racism, which propelled her into activism.It's time for the Netherlands to confront its colonial past and systemic racism, and work towards a more just and equal society for all. - Maricella de CubaKey moments00:02:10 - Black Pete and Racism in Dutch Schools,00:06:27 - Dutch Colonial Past and Jan Pieterszoon Coen,00:12:08 - Child Benefit Scandal and Racialised Algorithms,00:17:21 - The fourth Rutte Cabinet.ResourcesSupport organisations like Control Alt Delete, which monitor and support victims of racial profiling in the Netherlands.Amnesty International's research report on Racial profiling in the Netherlands.Credits and staff The second season of Europe Talks Back is produced in partnership with Sphera Network, the first network of independent media in Europe to reinvent the media space and paint a new picture of the continent through impactful, unbiased, raw and authentic stories.The producer of Europe Talks Back is Maria Dios. The host and narrator of Europe Talks Back is Juli Simond. Sound editing and mixing is by Jeremy Bocquet. Reporting for this story by Sarah Tekath.The executive producer of Europe Talks Back is Alexander Damiano Ricci.Social Mediahttps://www.linkedin.com/linkedin.com/company/bulle-media/https://www.twitter.com/twitter.com/europodpodcastshttps://www.europod.eu/ Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Trentyn Flowers is a 6'8 SF and the 247 Sports Composite 20th-ranked player in the class of 2024. He announces his college decision on Friday, March 17 at 5:30pm ET. Will he pick Carolina over Louisville, Creighton, Arkansas, and others?Leaky Black and Pete Nance have run out of eligibility, so it's time to show them some love on the way out the door. Host Isaac Schade shares some of Black's stats as the UNC career leader in games played and then shares some Carolina fan messages for Black and Nance.The UNC women finally know their first NCAA Tournament opponent: St. John's (who knocked off Purdue on Thursday in a play-in game). The Tar Heels will face the Red Storm on Saturday at 4 on ESPN. Heels of the Week! Isaac Schade gives himself the bad Heel of the Week. Check out why.Follow & Subscribe on all Podcast platforms… 

Trentyn Flowers is a 6'8 SF and the 247 Sports Composite 20th-ranked player in the class of 2024. He announces his college decision on Friday, March 17 at 5:30pm ET. Will he pick Carolina over Louisville, Creighton, Arkansas, and others? Leaky Black and Pete Nance have run out of eligibility, so it's time to show them some love on the way out the door. Host Isaac Schade shares some of Black's stats as the UNC career leader in games played and then shares some Carolina fan messages for Black and Nance. The UNC women finally know their first NCAA Tournament opponent: St. John's (who knocked off Purdue on Thursday in a play-in game). The Tar Heels will face the Red Storm on Saturday at 4 on ESPN. Heels of the Week! Isaac Schade gives himself the bad Heel of the Week. Check out why. Follow & Subscribe on all Podcast platforms… 

Welcome to episode 77. We have some exciting news!  Barry Grapefruit is organising a Total Christmas Podcast Convention, details are in the show.Then we have a Christmas Not So Classic.  This time we're looking at another song by The Killers and it's called Boots.  It's a great song, but not that festive.Have a listen:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UymN_kjYeFkNext it's Bob Baker who looks at what us Brits mean when we call someone a muppet.Then it's the quiz and you know you love it.Did you know Mariah Carey was in an advert for Walkers Crisps?  Well she was, and you won't believe how much they paid her.Then it'c Christmas Everyday and thanks to the lovely Shelli Arnold, Bob Baker has another idea about how to keep feeling festive all year long.Last episode in Christmas All Over The World we looked at Sinterklass, now we're looking at his politically incorrect side kick Zwarte Piet or Black Peter.  It's controversial stuff.This episode's recommendation is Office Ladies, hosted by Jenna Fischer and Angela Kinsey (Pam and Angela).  Each episode they look at an episode of The Officer and it's just a great listen.https://officeladies.com/If you want to get in touch you can.Email:  totalchristmas@gmail.comWebsite:  totalchristmaspodcast.comMerry Christmas!

Theatrical costume designer and age-of-sail enthusiast Hannah Haverkamp returns to Antiques Freaks to discuss the delightful and deliberate anachronisms in the historical costuming choices of HBO's pirate comedy series Our Flag Means Death. What's up with Oluwande's crocs? Why does Black Pete wear a literal actual horseshoe for a belt buckle? How is Blackbeard the connective tissue between Mad Max and Judas Priest? And is the “rather exquisite cashmere” REALLY cashmere??? Tune in to find out!

Langston and David answer a listener's email about the evil doings of Dutch people with their cigars and paint. They received a DM from a listeners to confirm more Black Pete rumors. Send your conspiracy theories, music drops, and any problematic talks to mymommapod@gmail.com You will not want to miss My Momma Told Me LIVE! at The Elysian in Los Angeles, California. Show is on Thursday, February 16th at 7:30pm. Get your tickets here! We are now on YouTube! Listen & Watch episodes of My Momma Told Me starting 12/20. Subscribe to the channel here!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Langston and David continue the conversation of Black Santa and dive into other holiday traditions that focus on one mission: exploiting a workforce. The conversation moves from a lucky Italian witch to Black Pete; a slave to Santa. What tales do we tell the children? You will not want to miss this episode, and a reminder: figgy pudding ain't shit.  Send your conspiracy theories, music drops, and any problematic talks to mymommapod@gmail.com You will not want to miss My Momma Told Me LIVE! at The Elysian in Los Angeles, California. Show is on Thursday, February 16th at 7:30pm. Get your tickets here! We are now on YouTube! Listen & Watch episodes of My Momma Told Me starting 12/20. Subscribe to the channel here!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Welcome to another exciting episode of the HoZ Comedy Podcast. On this episode the cast talks about the origin of Santa Clause and how Black Pete has to do all the heavy lifting just so the fat guy can take all the credit. There is also an argument about who is better Batman or Spiderman which end up being a conversation about Marvel vs DC. All that and more on this exciting episode of the HoZ Comedy Podcast. Remember to listen laugh and share.

Forget that bearded fat f*ck in a red suit, Oh.. sure he showers you with gifts if you're good.. but the demon spawn, Krampus is where it's at! Welcome back hoseheads to another hilarious strange brew special and before we dive into the child punishing, horned, long tongued devil, we discus the very problematic "Black" Pete and why the dutch have a tradition of wearing blackface around Christmas. You better watch out, you better not lie because Krampus will hit with sticks sticks till you cry.. or drowned you in a bathtub or drag you to hell, Let's bring fear back to the Holiday season. Celebrate with us and WATCH the specials on youtube or make sure you drink some spiked Nog while hitting the bong because it's about to get STRANGE! Follow the Madness on Social Media! www.patreon.com/strangebrewpodcast www.strangebrewpodcast.com Strange brew's INSTAGRAM https://www.instagram.com/strangebrew...​ Strange brew's FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/strangebrewpod TOMCAT- https://www.instagram.com/tomcathipho...​ ANTON- https://www.instagram.com/h.p_shovekraft/?hl=en Anton's Twitch- Twitch @ invaderdaggett_ttv Strange Brew's Twitch @ strangebrewttv Find First Class Horror on all Podcast Platforms!  LINK BELOW..  https://linktr.ee/FirstClassHorror

Welcome to Christmas in the Netherlands. If you're looking for things to do in Amsterdam, you might find your way to a Christmas market to witness the Zwarte Piet tradition. Like a German Krampus parade, Sinterklaas (Santa Claus) has a servant named Black Pete that has a controversial blackface depiction. He's supposed to be a devil, but we'll let you be the judge (3:04). Meanwhile in Finland, the Finnish Prime Minister sets a standard for paternity leave that we hope becomes universal (44:25). Bringing it back to the states, it's Wisconsin vs Illinois to decide who has the most Christmas cheer (58:25). Merry Christmas you filthy animal! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

Twas the week before Christmas and all through the Shoe-Dio, AG and Chris  discussed something beautiful. Three Holiday tales from folklore are told, but not before someone packs a tight bowl. Look we get it, the Holidays are stressful, even more reason to take a little time for yourself, bake yourself like a warm oatmeal raisin cookie (yes they're the superior cookie) and tuck in with us for some Holiday Folklore that makes Santa look like a basic bitch. Sinterklass and the questionable Black Pete or Gryla and the Yule Lads, we've got something for everyone. 

Due to a shelf that came crashing down and destroying the PC monitor the show was late. However, it is still the best show out there and we love you. Vara and Roxy take on the legends of Christmas. We talk about ST. Nick, Black Pete, Krampus, and Belsnickel. How are they part of Christmas, and do they all get along? Find out on The VCR SHOW! Ho! Ho! Ho! *** KIDS SHOULD NOT LISTEN TO THIS ONE*** #thevcrshow #popculture #Nerd # Christmas #podcast #Houston #Texas #Santa # Krampus #Vara #Roxyperez Roxy Perez Tik Tok: Thepoproxx Instagram: Poproxx428 Facebook: Roxy Perez Curvy Model The VCR Show Thevcrshow.com thevcrshow@gmail.com Instagram and Twitter: @thevcrshow Black Pete Article.

Christmas time is almost here. Santa is coming to town...and so is his shadow.Lyurel & Janelle review the 2015 horror comedy"Krampus," and discuss the lore and legend of Krampus, the racialized Dutch tradition: Black Pete, the case of Melissa Young, the updates in the Tory Lanez case, and more!Follow Us!InstagramFacebookTik TokConsider supporting us by becoming a Patreoner at patreon.com/footoffthebedpodcast!Stay safe, stay indoors, and don't leave your foot off the bed!Follow Us!InstagramFacebookTik TokConsider supporting us by becoming a Patreoner at patreon.com/footoffthebedpodcast!

Onnnnn this episode… Murrrry Cripmas Knuckaheads! How much do you know about Christmas? Probably more than we do. So stay tuned for some pagan partying with a pinch of Pete and some Yule tide tradition! Enjoy. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/ewing-house-studios/support

This is part 2 of 'Activism Works - Black Pete is Racism' where Lieke Koningen, Simone de Bies and I discuss why Black Pete is racism, and how it is connected to the Dutch colonial legacy and linked to institutional racism. We focus on the importance of recognizing power relationships and being antiracist. An we discuss how an inclusive Sinterklaas festivity can look like and how kids are ready to be educated on racism. Above all though, we recognize the long-lasting resistance struggle around Black Pete is Racism, the people who have been speaking out in the streets, in schools, in nurseries, workplaces, at family dinners and so forth. We honour activism as a creative endeavour and are inviting you all to be worthy of our times, to step up and say not in my name to racism, oppression, intimidation and injustice! Choose your model of activism, what speaks best to you, be artistic and creative about it and let's continue making positive changes together. Host: Stella Saliari At Salt the Podcast my guests and I contest and deconstruct narratives, and passionately recreate with the aim to change systems and perceptions. We want to elevate a generation that is feminist, antiracist and empathetic. Our conversations flow into each other and leave room for the unexpected. Salt is love, community, solidarity, a collective, healing, creating. It is intersectional, full of stories, movement and change. It insists, evolves and transforms. It is a commitment. #blackpeteisracism #activism #resistance #stopblackface #thenetherlands #amsterdam #thetimeisup #socialjustice #decolonizing #antiracist #gloriawekker #representation #representationmatters #equitymatters #saltthepodcast #intersectionality #antiracism #personalnarratives #kickoutblackpete Follow Salt @salt_thepodcast Subscribe to Salt The Podcast on Soundwise

This episode (which consists of two parts) is about the Dutch Sinterklaas festivity and specifically the figure of Black Pete. It firmly states that activism works and that Black Pete is Racism.  To discuss this important and challenging topic I gathered with two fabulous people: Lieke Koningen and Simone de Bies.  Lieke is a mother, a life coach, community builder and event producer. An award winning teacher, dancer and workshop developer who lives with her family in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. From a very young age she felt the need to stand up against injustices and her passion for social justice has been part of her life ever since.  Simone was born in Suriname, in South America and moved to Amsterdam, the Netherlands at the age of 9. This is where she lives together with her daughter Zoe. Simone works for the Dutch government and is passionate about making our society more equal and inclusive.   In this first part of the episode we introduce the topic, listen to statements from people on the topic, outline parts of the resistance struggle and provide some analysis on why Black Pete is racist.  Host: Stella Saliari At Salt the Podcast my guests and I contest and deconstruct narratives, and passionately recreate with the aim to change systems and perceptions. We want to elevate a generation that is feminist, antiracist and empathetic. Our conversations flow into each other and leave room for the unexpected. Salt is love, community, solidarity, a collective, healing, creating. It is intersectional, full of stories, movement and change. It insists, evolves and transforms. It is a commitment. #blackpeteisracism #KOZP #nederlandwordtbeter #gloriawekker #racism #killjoy #stopblackface #nederlandkanhet #blacklivesmatter #sinterklaas #decolonize #coloniallegacy #colonialism #activism #ZwartePietIsZwartVerdriet #representation #luluhelder #saraahmed #representationmatters #resistance #equitymatters #intersectionality #antiracism #blackpeteisblacksadness #amsterdam Follow Salt @salt_thepodcast Subscribe to Salt The Podcast on Soundwise Subscribe to Salt The Podcast on Soundwise

This is a re-release of our interview from 2017 with Dr. Mark Staker. We're going to talk about Kirtland history. While I knew there was an early convert named Black Pete who likely held the priesthood, I was surprised to learn that Black Pete may have introduced speaking in tongues and polygamy to the Church! […]

In this episode Anthony Panders to the Netherlands and or Holland. There's some confusion there according to the internet. So Black people are upset about Zwarte Piet or Black Pete who is a bafoon who helps Santa deliver presents in the Netherlands. The local whites will dress up in black face and fall over themselves as the character Zwarte Piet. It's totally unproblematic! Links down below! www.instagram.com/theanthonymartin www.twitter.com/watameye www.tictok.com/anthonywithcheese www.apple.com/panderinghour www.spotify.com/panderinghour www.anchor.fm.com/panderinghour Thanks for making my dreams come true! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

Episode 3 of 2 Hot Girls: A Podcast by Dudes!!! We thought it was lost but Ryan fixed the audio 3 weeks later!!!West Virginia native and hilarious stand-up comic, Justin Powers, explains pepperoni rolls, Juggalos, and Black Pete. Also, we close it with a bad, freestyle Russia diss track.Follow Justin on Instagram our around the showroom at Chuck's Furniture: @jkexplosionTHIS IS HANDS DOWN THE HOTEST PODCAST IN CHICAGO AND MAYBE THE WORLD. WE ARE GOD'S GIFT TO THE PODCASTING, STAND-UP COMEDY, AND IMPROV (long form only cause short form SUCKS) WORLD!!!! I AM TYPING THIS UNIRONICALLY.Follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter: @2hotgirlspod

We wrap up our conversation about Race and the Priesthood this week by learning about 3 lesser-known early Black Mormon Saints. Hear about “Black Pete”--the first African American man affiliated with the Mormon religion, as well as Joseph T. Ball (who fooled everyone into believing he was White) and Lydia Walker–the first African American woman to be recorded as baptized. Get on in here and join us! --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/sharingreleasesshame/message

Abbott and Costello ride into Dead Pan Gulch on the trail of Black Pete, the bank robber. Black Pete turns out to be guest Marlene Dietrich! --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/iloveoldtimeradio/message

Hi Ichabodicans! Today we bring you the last episode of Season 1. FINALLY! After one year and four months. It's belated, but it's here--the Krampus Episode. Today we're gonna teach you all about Krampus and his origin story. Did he come from Black Pete? Perchta? Hel? Gryla? How can you appease him? What if you catch him sniffing around your house on Christmas Eve? What happens if he kidnaps one of your kids? All these questions will be answered in today's epic episode. You don't want to miss this. If you do . . . well, I wasn't supposed to say this, but if you miss it, you're totally lame. Like. Totally. JK. We love you. And so does Ichabod. Today's Source:Krampus: The History and Legacy of the Mythological Figure Who Punishes Children During the Christmas SeasonIchabod's Nose Picks/Andy:OzarkSweet MagnoliasThe Woman Across The Street From The Girl In The WindowIchabod's Nose Picks/Jen:LambThe WastelandThe Dark and the Wicked

In this special first episode of Season 4: Winter Spirits of Mythical Musings, The Podcast we honor two recognizable figures with two quite different yet similar histories. The alter ego of Santa Claus, Krampus, is the kind of spirit whose malevolence takes on a whole new meaning. We explore the origins of both figures and how they've impacted the modern celebration of Christmas.Episode Highlights:* St. Nicholas; his origins, his real story, and his miracles* Krampus: his pagan origins and how he became synonymous with the naughty list* Black Pete; his controversial origins and modern-day outlook* The Great Persecution: a backstory of how Christians were seen during the times of the Roman Empire* Christmas in modern day and how we can celebrate it both religiously and in secular society* A special “Twas the Nightmare Before Christmas” readingAs the New Year draws ever closer, it's important to take every ounce of Christmas magick we can and make it last. This episode highlights some of the great and fun traditions celebrated around the world!For more Mythical Musings, please visit:Substack | Mythical MusingsInstagram | @mymythicalmuseFacebook | @mythicalmusingsDonations | paypal.me/mythicalmusings.comMerchandise | Shop (morethanmythical.com)Become a paid member of the show for exclusive episodes and more!{New and existing members click the link and hit “subscribe” for more info! @mythicalmusings. Thank you :)} This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit mythicalmusings.substack.com/subscribe

What are traditions? They are the ideas and values passed down from generation to generation. They are customs and beliefs that bind a culture together. The raising of a Christmas tree during Christmas. The celebration of a new year. Your birthday is special. You brush your teeth with your eyes closed. All are traditions and rituals we do. We have rituals for everything and every occurrence. We mark special days for remembrance. These may be days of triumphs, or they may be days of loss. There are plenty of people who still remember Kurt Cobain's day of death, while others see it as any other day. These are dates that we find it important to remember. On these days we may do something special. The fourth Thursday of November is Thanksgiving. We hold the first Sunday after the first full moon following the vernal equinox in March as a great feast of when Jesus arose from the grave, aka easter. Each culture has a different way of celebrating each of its own holidays. Christmas which is coming up n the next day or two has many of its own unique traditions. In the US we set up a tree we string lights all over the place. We find the prettiest pine tree and bring it into our house. We then add lights to it and hang decorations from its boughs. We string holly and pine garland around and the smell of Christmas is amazing especially when you are using real pine. Sticky but it smells so good. Now there are some people who talk about how this is not true Christianity and all that stuff is pagan traditions. Is it? Well yeah to a point. Yet it is a part of our traditions anyhow. We have a theory as to why we use a pine tree instead of saying a young walnut tree. The reason is so that the values that the pagans had actually fit nicely with what the Christians had. So incorporating their traditions to fit in with ours was a good adjustment of traditions. Then you add the additions of American society and you have Saint Nicholas riding a sleigh being pulled by reindeer. While if you go to the Netherlands, Saint Nicholas rides a boat and he has a helper named Black Pete who helps him disseminate the gifts through several days. They use shoes instead of stockings. Yet the primary character is still the same. Some cultures actually have scary monsters running around Throwing bad children into bags and whipping them. In America, we have a family feast. Turkey, ham, brisket if you are in my house. While in Japan you have a bucket of KFC Chicken. In Catalonia, it is customary to have a dude dropping a duce in the manger scene. Some families like to have the Christmas pickle hidden in their tree. Shoot in Norway you hide your brooms on Christmas so witches do run off with them. There are so many different and fun traditions in the Christmas season alone. We haven't even talked about the other days of the year. Then there were traditions that died out thankfully, like the act of wassailing. Now I think wassailing can be brought back just not as it was originally. It started out as a roving band of drunk people demanding food from the lords or they would start getting rowdy. Yet because of wassailing, we get the tradition of singing carols door to door. These and all traditions are a time for remembrance and looking back on how we are connected to each other. Yeah, there are those who want to say our traditions are bad or not fair or something to that effect. Yet they have their own traditions and customs they want to observe. Why traditions are important They link us to our ancestors They allow us to show respect to those who also observe our traditions We are losing our traditions There are those who have worked tirelessly to change our traditions. These changes are often done in the name of fairness You can start your own traditions I talked about the 14 Christmas traditions you can start this year. Have a manly Christmas Watch a Christmas movie Die-hard is good A Christmas story Meet with your Band Of Brothers Serve someone in need with the Christmas Jar Classic Christmas Carols https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6u8Ct3nQZcQupR1qyVUYwT?si=4f82f6f9e5814489 Classic Christmas Songs https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1DX6R7QUWePReA?si=73bb886465c04f90

It's our Christmas episode.  Christmaschristmaschristmaschristmaschristmaschristmaschristmas.  We love it - the lights, the music, the cookies, the racist caricatures!  Ah, Christmas - the yuletide celebration that brings the world closer together.  A lovely time of year when we ask ourselves the eternal questions like: what is the meaning behind a black man dressed for a renaissance fair who has curly black hair and red red lips and puts children in a sack and beats them with a stick while taking them away to work in Spain. The meaning, in the Netherlands, is Christmas.  What a fun jolly time of year, and what a fun jolly sidekick-servant-slave-companion for St. Nicholas to have, a colorfully dressed black man who punishes naughty children by forcing them to work (for free) in Santa's toy shop in Spain. Listen, we get it.  Black Pete is racist.  But some Dutch people don't think so, they will argue with you, they will scream at you from their windmill houses, shaking their fists while throwing tulips and wooden shoes at you...be warned, the dutch are tolerant but that doesn't mean they will tolerate you talking smack about their beloved Zwarte Piet.  He's been around for 150 years and comes from a children's story book and you Americans have Rudolph and Frosty and your Santa is fat like all Americans and shame on you for your history! Go drink some coca-cola and celebrate capitalism, you Americans! Christmas gets ugly this year as we turn our attention to Dutch Delicious, a bakery in Edmonton (hello, Canada!) that thought it would be fun to share their Dutch cultural Christmas tradition of Black Pete with Canadians.  They weren't prepared for the backlash and quickly offered an apology and a new version of Black Pete, Chimney Pete - which leads us to ask another eternal question: will our listeners in the Netherlands ever forgive us for the windmill houses and throwing tulip jokes?

This episode 7H,10H is honored to welcome Louis Römer, ethnographer extraordinaire of the Caribbean and the Netherlands, to discuss Santa's demonic entourage in the Netherlands and Germany, namely Zwarte Piet (Black Pete) and Krampus. We discuss the way these Santa-demons and their re-invented traditions matter for racial politics in Europe, the Caribbean, and Upstate New York. And why, in Italy, Santa is Black.Follow Louis on Twitter: @lromeranthSources:Sacha Hilhorst and Joke Hermes “‘We have given up so much': Passion and denial in the Dutch Zwarte Piet (Black Pete) controversy”Yannick Coenders and Sébastien Chauvin, “Race and the Pitfalls of Emotional Democracy: Primary Schools and the Critique of Black Pete in the Netherlands”Nicole Römer (Louis's cousin): “Ik Heb Een Naam” (I have a name) (English language piece on responding to racism in the Netherlands and how Zwarte Piet factors in.)Magdalena Berger, “Warum sich immer mehr junge Männer als Krampusse verkleiden”Eva Reisinger, “Dumme österreichische Bräuche: Warum ich den Krampus hasse”

Yes, dear listeners, we finally did a Krampus episode. Topics: American Dad, Krampus (2015), Black Phillip (affectionate) and Black Pete (derogatory), American Traditions, Nazis (can fuck off), Crowley (Supernatural) and Crowley (Good Omens), Krampus Kinks, Homestuck (surprise!) CW: animal death, child death, Nazis, light NSFW in the form of Krampus ~art~

Episode 4 is the first of Barks' Arctic-set comics, the exciting tale, Frozen Gold! This is an exciting story, and we get the chance to discuss, among other things: the development of penicillin and parallels to the story of Balto the famous sled dog, the return of Black Pete, the ducks' plane hijinks, and Donald's Mr. Magoo moment.

Hermelijn and I discuss the way in which Dutch children are controlled by the story of Sinterklaas and his controversial helper Black Pete.

In this episode, I will be discussing a Dutch Christmas tradition and its association with Zwarte Piet, or Black Pete in English. This character is based on anti-Black stereotypes and involves the use of blackface. This episode aims to examine this specific tradition within a larger context of Dutch colonization throughout the Atlantic World and also considers Black experiences in the Netherlands today. Joining me is my Humanity in Action fellow, Valerie Ntinu.

In this week's episode, I talk with Vanessa Blakeslee about the new fiction anthology, A Very French Christmas, from New Vessel Press. NOTES Some context for the dubious Dutch tradition of Black Pete. David Sedaris discusses this in his essay, "6 to 8 Black Men." Be sure to check out the music of David Rego, whose song "Harp" appears on this episode.

We continue are discussion with Dr. Brian Hales.  (Part 1 is here.)  He has written a comprehensive history of Joseph Smith's Polygamy (Volume 1, Volume 2, and Volume 3.)  In this episode, I'll ask him about Dr. Mark Staker's claim that Black Pete may have been responsible for introducing polygamy into the Kirtland period. Joseph knew the Old Testament, he knew Abraham had more than one wife and Jacob, so why would we need to think that it was Black Pete that was introducing this in a very real way, especially when Joseph wasn't supportive of so much that was going on when he first arrived down there, and the types of spiritual experiences that they were expressing in their church meetings and things like that.  So I'm a little dubious on that, but I just applaud Mark.  I say go forward and let us know. He also makes an interesting statement about the Joseph Smith Translation of the Bible. I believe all of these principles came to Joseph line upon line, precept upon precept.  Some of the exciting things that are happening down at BYU, Thom Wayment and others are looking at the Joseph Smith Translation very carefully and discovering that it really shouldn't be thought of as actual scripture in and of itself, that it was a chance for Joseph to expand upon the text to make the Bible text correspond with the theology that he was receiving through revelation, or through communications that he portrayed to be from God. I asked Brian about differences in biblical polygamy and Doctrine & Covenants 132. GT:  Well so I guess my question is as far as 132 and Genesis, does it seem to you that there's a difference among those two scriptures as far as whether God commanded Hagar to be a plural wife or whether Sarah was totally responsible? Brian acknowledges the accounts are different, but it doesn't bother him. Brian:  So for me to see the JST Genesis and that it doesn't necessarily say what comes in 1843 doesn't surprise me because of the line upon line, precept upon precept process. What do you think about these different accounts about Hagar's marriage to Abraham?  Does it bother you that these two accounts seem to differ in whether God commanded the marriage, or Sarah suggested it? Check out our conversation… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFPSq1M2Rpg&t https://gospeltangents.com/shop/transcripts/polygamy-dc-132-conflict-jst-genesis/    

This is not your typical polygamy conversation.  How did polygamy get started in the LDS Church?  Dr. Mark Staker has a very interesting theory:  he thinks it was started by a former slave, Black Pete, who joined the Mormon community in 1830.  I talked about Black Pete in Part 1 and Part 2 of my discussion with Staker, an LDS Anthropologist, and Staker also makes the case that Oliver Cowdery, not Joseph Smith, wrote the Declaration on Marriage that was replaced by D&C 132 in the Doctrine & Covenants.  With the LDS Church's stance on monogamy being God's standard, does Staker believe that this de-canonized revelation could be re-canonized?  Check out the audio above, video below, or transcript (also on Amazon) to find out!  You'll learn a lot about polygamy the foundations of polygamy in this episode! Here's a few interesting quotes from the podcast: GT:  So wait a minute.  You're telling me that Black Pete may have been responsible for introducing polygamy into the Kirtland community? Mark:  I believe so, and I believe that's why often we say well Joseph Smith was translating the Bible and he wants to know about Abraham and his wives, Isaac and Jacob and their wives and so he asks that. Who authored the Declaration on Marriage? Brigham Young believed it was all Oliver Cowdery.  Did he know all the details?  Scholars have disputed that but some of them have accepted his declaration.  I tend to believe that Brigham Young did know enough about those details that he was right that Oliver Cowdery had played the principal if not the sole role in getting that material included. What are your thoughts? https://youtu.be/z2CP5VsJyps        

It may be surprising to many to discover that a man known in Mormon journals as Black Pete served a mission for the LDS Church in 1831.  (Back then, it was known simply as the "Church of Christ.")  Dr. Staker notes, https://youtu.be/19lxpBdzWKs Black Pete is one of these individuals that goes out preaching.  He joins three other individuals and they all go out as a group of four. They're very interested in religious enthusiasm.  That might be what ties them together, but what this also suggests is that since those that we know about were ordained elders such as John Murdock, it could be that Black Pete had been ordained an elder as well to go out and he's assigned to preach just like these others are assigned to go out and preach. In this episode, we'll discuss his visits from a black angel, and some of the unusual religious practices he imprinted on Mormonism.  We've already mentioned that he started speaking in tongues in Part 1 of our conversation, but in this episode, we'll learn that Joseph Smith tamps down on these religious practices.  However, missionaries from Kirtland convert Brigham Young, who re-introduces the practice of speaking in tongues in Kirtland!  Pete also attempts to marry within the predominantly white community of Kirtland.  Staker notes that interracial marriage in 1831 would be national news, and it did happen occasionally. It ended up in the national papers that someone married a black person, but Emma's aunt had done exactly that. GT:  Emma Smith? Mark:  Emma Smith's aunt Diantha Hale had married a Joseph Wallace, a black man. GT:  Oh I did not know that. Mark:  Nobody did.  They kept it quiet.  By law they had to announce it in the newspaper, the marriage, but they didn't mention race in that official announcement. GT:  Wow! Please listen here!  Here's a link to a transcript (also on Amazon).  Check out the video.

Animals in Winter Ingenuity of Animals in Winter; How Animals Sound in Winter; The Reindeer People; Women Hunting; Helen Macdonald recommends "The Dark is Rising"; The Dutch Christmas Tradition of Black Pete.

After 3 ½ years, two full seasons and 40 episodes, Disney XD's Gravity Falls is about to air its final show—and we're a little bummed by this. Gravity Falls is our favorite thing on Disney television right now, ranking right up there with Phineas and Ferb, another great Disney animated series that came to an end. The summer adventures of Dipper and Mabel Pines at their great uncle Stan's Mystery Shack in the Oregon backwoods has been consistently funny, irreverent, exciting and even a little sweet. There have been mysteries solved, monsters defeated and life lessons learned in a show that is as entertaining for kids as it is for adults. The show's final episode, “Weirdmageddon 3: Take Back the Falls,” will air on Disney XD Monday, February 15 at 7:00 p.m. In it, we'll find out the fate of the Gravity Falls townsfolk at the hands of Bill Cipher, the one-eyed, triangle-shaped being from another dimension hell-bent on ruling—and possibly destroying—the entire known universe. It's going to be fun, really. This week, Tim attended a press event in Burbank with some of the cast and creative people of Gravity Falls. On hand was the show's creator and voice of Grunkle Stan, as well as the lovable handyman Soos, Alex Hirsch. Joining him were the actors who voice Dipper and Mabel Pines, Jason Ritter and Kristen Schaal. And finally, we heard from the composer of Gravity Falls' catchy, mysterious and whimsical music, Brad Breeck. Drew Taylor with the Disney Insider moderated the panel discussion, which was followed by questions from the press. Alex, Jason, Kristen and Brad shared their favorite moments from the show, how the Gravity Falls characters developed and grew, and why it made sense to end the series when they did. Adventure Thru Liquid Space In a move inspired by Garry Apgar, our guest in the Lounge last week, Tim challenged our resident mixologist Carolyn to devise a cocktail worthy of Mickey Mouse's arch-nemesis Black Pete. We're happy to report she came through with flying colors (or maybe she was just Plane Crazy). Black Pete 1 1/2 oz. Scotch1/2 oz. Cherry Heering1/2 oz. Ramazzotti Amaro1 1/2 oz. Coca Cola In a shaker, combine the Scotch, Cherry Heering, and Ramazzotti, fill with ice, and shake to chill. Strain into an ice-filled rocks glass. Top with Coke. Garnish. Enjoy! www.TheMouseCastle.comRSS Feed: http://themousecastle.libsyn.com/rss

Black Peter or Zwarte Piet: is it a beloved Dutch Christmas character or a racist throwback to the minstrel tradition? Quinsy Gario, a media expert from the Dutch Island St. Maarten, didn't think much of it until his mother was called “Zwarte Piet”. Then he launched a public campaign to end the tradition that led to a police beating, death threats and a national debate and led him to being, for a few months, the most hated man in The Netherlands. (Photo: Quinsy Gario)

Kno'Ledge Cesare visits The Context of White Supremacy live from the Netherlands. We'll discuss his campaign against Racism/White Supremacy and the so-called holiday Zwarte Piet [Black Peter]. White people have praised this tradition of black face and ridiculing black people. Mr. Cesare and his non-white colleagues have volunteered their time and energy to protest this White Supremacist tradition. We'll hear about the massive resistance they've encountered and we'll evaluate the logic of those who want to preserve Black Pete. #WhiteChristmas #BlackPeter #TheCOWS13 INVEST in The COWS – http://paypal.me/TheCOWS Cash App: https://cash.app/$TheCOWS CALL IN NUMBER: 720.716.7300 CODE: 564943#