Santa Claus carefully rappelled deeper and deeper into the forbidding chasm leading farther into the dangerous Under-dark, trying to ignore the muffled murmuring coming from his Santa sack. He had felt the tell-tale presence of a creature that had rejected the foul gods and cruel ways of the Underdark, and it wasn't some scimitar-swinging, knife-eared fag-elf this time, this was a very Good girl. Santa had sensed her pure, but animistic soul deep in this den of foul, corrupted Naughtiness. The unique request of this exotic young woman would neatly 'take care of' a pernicious thorn in Santa's side. Nearly losing his footing in several places, Santa took a long, hard swig from his impressive flask for courage, and continued down. His pinions groaned with Santa's corpulent mass, but with the Magic of Christmas, Santa was able to delve further, to carry out the grim business of keeping his patron holiday operating Smoothly. Santa knew he was close, when he spied thick gobs of sticky spider-webs haphazardly spun around a recess in the impressive underground cavern.
As Saint Nicholas approached closer, he realized some of the webbing had been carefully spun into a three-dimensional sign reading "Hello! Lost? Come in!" in the dark runes of Lloth. Santa carefully stepped in, bending low to avoid the drooping webbing, as he spied a pale, humanoid-shaped figure approaching from the gloom of the small cave's interior. As she approached, Santa could make out her half-human form more clearly. Above the waist, the woman resembled a thin, pale, flat-chested young woman, human-looking, except for her eight red arachnid eyes. But below the waist, the woman's body sprawled out into a graceful, creeping, eight-legged spider configuration. The hairy, black mass of her lower thorax ended in a plump abdomen, resplendent with a natural giant red hourglass shape. Santa shivered at the sight of the creepy, beguiling spider-woman, who seemed over-joyed at seeing him, as Santa tried to suppress his massive fear-boner at the sight of the bare-chested spider girl. She waved a hand and several spider legs in greeting, saying "Hello! Is it really you Santa? I can't believe it! I Thought that paladin was totally full of shit!"
Santa approached the genial arachnid, returning her warm embrace, and taking the opportunity to feel up the back of her thorax. Santa responded "That paladin was completely full of shit, but not about me! I've seen you down here, Portia, suppressing the monstrous urges your dark-goddess imbued in your species. I was there, watching your kindness when you found that injured sorcerer, nursed him back to health, fucked him silly, and guided him to the surface. I witnessed your bravery when you fended off those troglodytes, saving that party of adventurers, and let them run a train on you before guiding them towards their righteous objective. I'm here to reward you, for your stead-fast Niceness." The spider-woman's eight red eyes, from small to large, started watering with happy tears as Santa congratulated her pious, courteous actions. She had always wondered if anyone was truly watching her struggles to bring some light down into this deep, dark, cold place. But the nubile arachnid woman suppressed an emotional sniffle, as she quizzically asked "B-but Santa, I didn't even ask for anything this Christmas!" as Santa just shook his head, a warm, gentle smile spreading across his jolly face, "Oh dear sweet Portia, Santa knows what your heart secretly desires! Santa has a very important task for you, kind spider girl. Now listen closely." Santa finished, ushering Portia the spider girl to lean in close.
"Now, you know Santa doesn't brook any fucking Communism in his god-blessed toy-shop, right? That's how we get the toys to all the good little boys and girls, with unregulated industry. Well, you know how there's nothing more evil than a Unionist, right darling?" Santa said, as Portia nodded attentively, understanding absolutely none of this. "Well, there are these nasty little fairies that Santa was relying on, to spread their magical pixie dust in the air. Santa relied on them to keep the fighting spirit alive in the work-elves well into the dark hours in the North Pole, elves don't need to sleep when they're hopped up on fairy-dust. But these ungrateful bitches tried to organize a fly-out during peak production-season to fucking cripple us, and Santa doesn't abide that bullshit. That's where you come in, my sweet dear." Santa said, running his hand over her plump abdomen, cringing longingly at the stiff, black bristles that coated the smooth, hard surface. "W-what... would you have me do?" Portia replied breathlessly, suspecting Santa knew full well of her lewd, perverse inclinations.
"Santa knows what you do with your tight little spinneret hole, late at night, Portia. He see's you when you should be sleeping, he know when you're wide awake at night..." Santa Claus continued, speaking of himself in the 3rd person, as Portia began leaking several thin strands of silk from her twitching backside as the spinnerets began fidgeting about, a small moan escaping from the back of her throat as Santa leaned in closer. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he whispered "I need you... I need you to make an example of these goddamned pixie ring-leaders. Show them the true meaning of Christmas, and jam them all up in your spider-hole. Just shove 'em right in there sweetie, it's not a sin to kill an atheist, pinko fey with your arachnid-ass." Santa reassured her, as he gripped her smooth, human-like upper back tightly, "You know I could uhh... I could loosen up your spinneret hole for you Portia... get you nice and ready..." But Portia just stared back at Santa innocently "But aren't you married, Santa? It's okay, I don't need any help."
But Santa was already walking away as she tactfully shot him down, muttering "Yeah okay, fine, fucking whatever, enjoy your goddamn tinker-bitches. Ungrateful little..." as he used his chimney magic to zoom out of the cave, flying out of the chasm. But Portia couldn't help but notice he had left a large, wooden crate on the ground, hastily tied with some cheap plastic ribbon. Portia could hear muffled rustling and murmurs from within the box, which had tiny holes poked in, as the spider-girl bit her lower-lip longingly, revealing two long poison-dripping fangs, as she chafed under her body's degenerate needs. Mindful of Santa's slurred guidance, Portia rationalized her actions as righteous, as she hastily pried the lid of the box open, a small jet of thick spider-silk shooting from her plump back-side as she saw what was within. Carefully lined up, three layers deep, were artfully trussed up fairy girls, of every hair-color and skin-tone imaginable. Even their dainty little bug-wings were carefully curled over them and bound, each desperately wriggling pixie completely helpless. "Are you... are you really evil communist fairies?" Portia asked the box of tied up little sprites incredulously. The fairies desperately babbled back in some strange, sing-song foreign language that Portia couldn't decipher. But the spider-girl had already decided. Santa would understand, Santa wanted this.
"Okay, here goes... which of you looks the naughtiest... umm I guess I'll start with you." the spider girl said, her voice growing low and husky as she delicately reached her long fingers down, and scooped up a young fairy girl with a punk look to her. The small fairy had a green pixie-cut, and was studded with many small piercings. Even her tiny, flat little fey-nipples and delicate wing-tips sported shiny chrome studs. Her creamy skin was bedecked with tattoos, too small for Portia's eight eyes to make out in the dim cave light. Portia curled down onto the cavern floor, on the back of her thorax, as she curled her pulsing arachnid abdomen up in the air, towards her face. Her spinneret hole was eagerly twitching in anticipation, as Portia delicately undid the fairies bindings. As soon as the spider-woman undid the punk fairy's wing-bindings, she fluttered off with such feisty vigor, Portia lost her grip, before the fairy flew straight into a waiting tangle of spider-web. Laughing lightly, Portia plucked the cursing little fairy out of the web, and resumed her lewd position. The fairy's little insect wings were buzzing in her tight-grip, as she desperately tried to pry Portia's long fingers off with her tiny, weak fairy arms. Portia decided to put the little pixie woman in head-first, her increasingly desperate cries making Portia question her commitment to fighting the spread of Communism.
Portia stared longingly at the fairy girl's cute face as it contorted in horror, before being plunged into the waiting depths of her spinneret hole. The fairy's little arms desperately clutched at the sensitive rim of the spider's back-side to slow her unwilling insertion, making Portia moan, but the tight spider-hole was so slippery with semi-congealed silk-web fluid, the punk fairy couldn't get a grip. Portia kept gasping and moaning lightly, as she slowly worked the stubborn fairy deeper, her narrow shoulders and buzzing wings bringing an increasingly erotic expression to the arachnid's nearly-human features. Portia couldn't believe how good the fairy girl's desperately vibrating wings felt, as they were lovingly plunged into the wet, silky depths of her eager spinneret hole, which cloyed and engulfed the elf girl as Portia fed her in head-first. The pixie was so tiny, it barely took any time at all, before Portia had her plunged in up to the punk's cute, madly scissoring knees. Using her fingers, Portia slowly worked the fairy girl's kicking legs in, slowing the intense process down to exalt in the hedonistic feeling of fullness the prey brought Portia. Soon, there was no sign the little punk fairy girl had ever existed, until her churning spinnerets expelled a tight wad of studded, leather fairy-clothes covered in gooey strands of spider-thread, and Portia knew she had completed a job well-done. As the fairy madly buzzed and squirmed inside the tight confines of Portia's sensitive, slimy spinneret interior, the spider girl looked longingly at the box full of remaining fairies. There were at least thirty more in there, as Portia wondered how many she could fit in at once. Somehow, the spider-woman knew in that moment, that Santa was watching, as the soft chime of Jingle-bells rang in the quiet, cave air.