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Sending the Christmas hating Grinch to Vogue Magazine’s Prettiest Place for Christmas was one thing. But this was a hundred times worse for me, because there was only one orphanage in Northland… and it was the one I’d grown up in.
“Frost… you got run over by… Rayne?” The doctor’s lips twitched with amusement. “You got run over by a Rayne Dear?”
Haah
“Jolly, attack. Kill.”
“Good girl,”
“Fuck my fingers, Rayne-drop—give me every bit of it, and then if you’re a good girl and want more, I’ll give you my cock.”
The sheriff was a murderer and tried to have me killed. My childhood crush was some kind of cold blooded killer, and his best friends both fucked me better than I’d ever been fucked. I should be running for the hills and booking a therapy session with my long time psychologist Jannie.
“She could have gotten frost bite.” “I did,” I told him, almost cheerfully. “Frost totally bit me.”
“How do you want me, Saint Nick? Are you going to use me like a good little ho, ho, ho?”
“Now, Rayne, be a good girl and suck Alfie’s dick while I fuck your cunt.”
“That’s it, hydrate well, my little Puddle,”
HAAHA
Not to mention all the copious amounts of cream he’d served with it… and the dairy type too.
Hehe
“Aw it’s cute you think we would spend our Christmas day plowing the road instead of plowing you.
Who the fuck needed three wise men when you could have three well-hung ones instead? Merry Christmas to me, indeed.
