Cinnamon Brandycane was called into Santa's office for yet another disciplinary meeting, usually an ominous, foreboding experience for elves in such a dangerous position, few returning after earning Santa's ire. But Cinnamon approached completely unphased by the implications, in her characteristic chipper, skipping gait. The incredibly tall, blonde, Christmas elf had to stoop low to fit through Santa's door-frame, as she daintily scooted down onto his old, wooden, 'grilling chair' upon which he had interrogated many a hapless elf. Cinnamon didn't notice the old, dried, crimson stains in the hard-wood, as the chair creaked under her incredible weight. Santa continued his phone conversation "No Xi, the shipment won't be ready for another week. If you don't want the world finding out where all your 'massive industrial output' is really coming from you'll... I have to go." Santa slowly turned around to face Brandycane on his expensive high-backed office chair, looking up at the tall, voluptuous elf-woman through his half-moon spectacles. "Hello Cinnamon. I've heard you've been distracting the boys on the toy production lines with your antics again. This is the third time this month that I've heard reports- hey, stop crossing your legs when I'm talking to you, young lady!" Santa commanded sternly, belching from the exertion.

Cinnamon fidgeted in the tight chair, which usually dwarfed most elves. It creaked ominously as the amazonian elf woman crossed her legs, and Santa realized Cinnamon had 'forgotten' to wear underwear again. "Goddammit Cinnamon, we talked about this. You have to wear that cute, pink underwear I buy you. It's very important... for the production lines." Kris Kringle finished, tactfully. Cinnamon pouted ruefully, and crossed her big, blue eyes in concentration, responding dully "I-I'm sorry Santa! I try so hard, but these silly outfits are so tight and distracting! All the pompoms and red-and-green lace just get my head spinning, and I get so forgetful... The elves on the line are ever so polite about it though! They never complain when I forget to fully dress, they even get angry if anyone brings it up around me. They're so sweet." Santa stared at the eight-foot tall elf quizzically, deciding to cut her some slack for all the years of primo hidden-camera footage she'd yielded to him. As if in response, his eyes shot back up as Cinnamon collapsed in a horrible racket of splintering groans, his prized interrogation chair shattered under the big elven bitch's incredible heft. "S-sorry Santa, it's okay, I'm fine!" Cinnamon said, calmly getting up, unscratched.

Cinnamon skipped past Santa's sentry yetis, humming sweetly as she glided back to her seat at the Funko Pop production line. Pinwheel Taffyton tried to focus on the cheap plastic figurines, but the overwhelming, sweet smell of Cinnamon's perfumes and womanly scent filled the room, bathing him in her heady elven pheromones as she carefully scooted in next to him. "Hi Pinwheel! Hi Gherkin! Nimbly!" Cinnamon greeted her exhausted work-mates with characteristic chipper cheer. Each small, male elf visibly groaned, their skin rippling in goosebumps as the busty elf woman mentioned them by name. Pinwheel was distracted most of all, as the relentless march of toys waiting to be assembled continued past. Cinnamon would raise her dainty hands up to flick the curly blonde hair from her big blue eyes every so often, the motion making her jiggling bosom lightly brush against Pinwheel's narrow right shoulder. The gaunt-faced, bag-eyed pixies sullenly spreading high-grade fairy-dust in the air didn't help with Taffyton's barely repressed elven arousal, as his mind raced with lewd fantasies of him and Cinnamon, and he gritted his teeth from the intense stimulants wafting in the air. He focused as best he could, as a stinking abominable man marched by in its leather jackboots, truncheon smacking in its leathery paw as it minded their work. Pinwheel didn't want to end up like Potpourri. Nobody wanted to, after the example Santa had made of him in the retribution square.

As the endless night in the North Pole dragged on, their eternal work-day with it, Cinnamon began visibly sweating with her diligent exertions, faithfully assembling the endless parade of Funko Pop's to please Santa's quota-men. As the droplets of perfumed, feminine sweat dripped down onto Taffyton's tasseled green elf-cap, Pinwheel's hands started shaking as he gritted his teeth tighter and tighter. Old man Gherkin could see the young buck elf starting to lose his shit, as he quietly cautioned "Come on lad, just simmer down, there'll be time to blow off steam later." not wanting to alert the yetis. But it was too late, the young elf lad's pent-up emotions boiled to the surface as he loudly exclaimed, his elven heart bursting with pure joy "I love you Cinnamon Brandycane! I love you from the bottom of my tiny heart!" as he knelt before the amazonian-proportioned elven woman. The assembled elves gasped, even the heartless yetis seemed taken aback by the display.

Gherkin ruefully muttered to himself, knowing the whole line would be collectively punished for this travesty. The old elf knew, as did everyone else, that Love was forbidden to elves. Santa expected each and every work-elf to willingly contribute their long, industrious lives in altruistic sacrifice to his ancient mission of spreading Christmas Cheer. Willful inter-breeding disrupted Santa's carefully managed elven line-breeding programs, to create the perfect slave. What's more, love between two individuals distracted from the whole-hearted devotion each elf should always be feeling for Christmas, and its eternal patron, Santa Claus. Gherkin, Nimbly, the whole Funko production crew now knew these two as thought-criminals, non-elves, untouchables. Every worker-elf cast their eyes down in submissive shame, ruefully singing jingle-bells as their pom-pom laden tassels drooped down morosely. The hulking, hairy yetis circled the two, wanting to avoid a scene, given Cinnamon's popularity, size, and legendary strength. Cinnamon looked down at Pinwheel, as both elves began crying to themselves, from happiness at having found each-other. Cinnamon looked up at the dead-eyed abominable enforcers, each one baring the stare of a lamb-slaughterer, as she calmly said "Look, me and Pinwheel will go to Santa willfully, just let me say good-bye to him, for a minute, please, in the bathroom. Or Else." the towering elf woman said, an ominous tilt entering her sing-song voice. Pinwheel added after she finished, his voice hysteric "A-and my name isn't Pinwheel anymore! That's my slave name! I'm Zaxpajnash! You hear me you frozen cunts? Zaxpajnash!" the newly anointed free-elf shrieked out, as Cinnamon tactfully carried him away to the bathroom, the yetis following behind.

As Cinnamon carried the elf formerly known as Pinwheel into the bathroom, she stopped and turned down to her new life-partner, saying breathlessly "Okay, look... I've got a plan, okay?" Zaxpajnash nodding affirmatively, not liking the sound of it at all, given Cinnamon's clumsy track record. "I have a special ability I was told by Santa to keep secret... but it could come in handy here. Do you trust me Zaxbys?" Cinnamon said, a dim, but passionate glint in her eyes. The rebellious free-elf nodded again, not wanting to correct her, as she began gingerly lifting up her short, white-fluff frilled elven skirt, revealing her glistening, womanly folds to Zaxpajnash. The little elf man stared ahead, mesmerized, struggling to believe any of this was possible. "Just trust me, I'll get you out of here... I have a plan." Cinnamon repeated, as if more to reassure herself, as she reached forward, and gently picked up her little elf lover-man.

She didn't even bother to remove his jangling, up-turned elf shoes, bells ringing on the curved toe-tips as she guided his feet towards her huge, hot slit. Zaxpajnash's eyes went wide as she began slowly working his feet into her gently spreading snatch, the elf man wondering if this was what 'sex' was. After feeding him into her pussy, up to his knees, Cinnamon let her powerful body do the rest of the work. He could feel the powerful vaginal muscles constricting against the green tights covering his scrawny legs, undulating as they slowly drew him deeper in wave-like contractions. The amazonian elf woman's sweet, tantalizing female scent wafted up to Zaxpajnash, who wanted nothing more than to continue this wondrous erotic process. Her eager, gulping cunt began gushing little rivulets of lubricating fluid, helping the little elf man slide in up to his thighs. Cinnamon began moaning loudly as she felt her lover's twitching body gliding deeper and deeper into her vaginal depths, his hips catching on her rubbery pussy lips as she bit her lip from the sensation. She reached down and gently grasped him by his ribs, urging him in insistently, until he was gliding smoothly in again. Zaxpajnash was completely overwhelmed as his gigantic lover's rhythmically contracting vaginal muscles compressed over his clothed crotch, giving the little elf his first, real sexual experience. After several more minutes of this bizarrely intimate affair, the green-garbed free-elf was in up to his armpits inside his lover's groin. Cinnamon spoke to him, an intense red blush rising to her flushed cheeks "Z-Zephyr, just take a deep b-breath, I'll handle everything. I won't let them hurt you, my sweet little guy..." staring up at his engulfing lover's big, blue eyes, Zaxpajnash dreamily responded "I love you Cinnamon, but my new name is- Mmmmppghh!" but he was cut off as she used her powerful grip to urge him in the rest of his way, the elf man curling his arms to his chest to help, as he plunged fully into his lover, curling up into a tight ball as he filled Cinnamon up to the brim of her tight cervical entrance. "Okay... let's do this." Cinnamon said, building up her courage as she looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

A team of abominable snow-men were surrounding the bathroom door as Cinnamon Brandycane hesitantly stepped out of the steaming, lewd-smelling bathroom, staring back at the impassively staring yetis demurely. She quickly began "Well, wouldn't you know it but um... Xylophone just... flushed right down the toilet, y'know? It was like, 'damn'." she finished confidently. The lead yeti, his left eye lost to a massive, white scar earned from the Grinch himself, responded "We heard everything in the bathroom. You stuffed the anti-citizen into your cooter. Come with us Ma'am." Zaxpajnash cautiously peeped out from within Cinnamon's vagina at the escalating confrontation, as the shadow of a yeti loomed from behind. The little elf moaned out, his voice muffled from his claustrophobic, fleshy confines "Behind you!" as Cinnamon ducked the lunging yetis truncheon, slamming both of her fists into the side of his knee and sending him sprawling to the ground. Zaxpajnash could barely see the whirling chaos of the battle from within Cinnamon, but as she whirled around the factory floor, kicking, punching, and dodging, he caught glimpses of his new lover's stupefying strength. With a haymaker punch, the tall elf woman slammed her knuckles into the fanged maw of a roaring yeti, his massive incisors shattering in a spray of enamel as the Santa-thug's eyes glazed with shock and pain, before Cinnamon ripped his throbbing tongue from his maw, shrieking wordlessly. The one-eyed lead yeti flicked out a massive folding knife, throwing it from paw to paw as he approached the enraged, long-eared ditz. He whirled at her from his left, his blade coming within inches of where Zaxpajnash watched from within his Valkyrie protector's groin, as she quickly kicked up, flinging and embedding the sharp knife into the cheap ceiling-panels. She maneuvered the rapid leg extension into a powerful shield kick, sending the remaining abominable yeti staggering into the unshielded Funko Pop die-cast machine. His tormented shrieks reverberated through the factory, the stunned, helpless work-elves utterly confused at the turn of events, as the greatest of the yetis was squished to scalding ruin by the pitiless, poorly-maintained, and profoundly unsafe toy-making machine.

Cinnamon Brandycane confidently strode out of Santa's sprawling industrial compound, the frigid Arctic wind doing nothing to the hot-blooded elf woman, except stiffen her impressive nipples. Zaxpajnash nervously peeked out from between her vaginal lips, still flabbergasted at how they had escaped. Brandycane marched forward stridently, knowing this was the beginning of her new life, with her new life-partner, Zaboomafoo. She knew their life would be hard in this frozen-hellscape, Santa tactically placing his facility in such a remote place to ensure there was no chance of successful escape. Santa would never stop hunting them, no matter where they went. His magical powers of detection would allow him to send an endless stream of forced, fatalistic assassins their way, but Cinnamon would make Santa's legions choke on their blood if they thought they would take their lives without a fight. As the confident elven harridan strode forward into the blizzard-blown northern wastes, Santa watched from a security monitor in his opulent office. "Primo footage my dear, as always, primo footage." he said silently to himself, taking a long drag from a cheap cigar.