<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Santa on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/santa/</link><description>Recent content in Santa on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sun, 21 Dec 2014 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/santa/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Kinkmas Morning</title><link>/stories/2014/12/21/kinkmas-morning/</link><pubDate>Sun, 21 Dec 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/12/21/kinkmas-morning/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Here&amp;rsquo;s a sequel to my story, &amp;ldquo;&lt;a href="../storiessz/visitfromstkinkolas.html"&gt;A Visit from St. Kinkolas&lt;/a&gt;,&amp;rdquo; which I wrote in response to some of the comments that it was &amp;ldquo;left hanging.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kinkmas Morning (A Visit From St. Kinkolas, Part 2)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As Santa Claus had predicted, and as Brenda had expected, it was a long, hard wait until morning. The Christmas magic worked to spare her any physical discomfort—she even dozed off for a very brief time—but she was in an agony of worry and fear as to what would become of her and of Greg. No one else had keys to her apartment, other than Greg, and he, like her, was tied up and trapped there. She had no idea who else, if anyone, might have keys to Greg’s apartment, where she was. What if some friend or family member burst in to wish a “Merry Christmas”, and found her like this? She would just die&amp;ndash;. She struggled fruitlessly against the magic bondage, but the velvet ribbons held her bound relentlessly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Letter to Santa</title><link>/stories/2014/12/20/letter-to-santa/</link><pubDate>Sat, 20 Dec 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/12/20/letter-to-santa/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The real reason Grandma got married on Christmas Day.
Every year Grandpa answers the question, “Why did you and grandma get married on Christmas Day?” This year, gramps gives the true answer.
Almost all erotic content in this short story is implied, not explicit. It is very mild, but somewhat romantic and filled with Christmas magic. If this is the first of my stories you have read, be aware before you look at others that most of my stories are much more explicit.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Visit from St. Kinkolas</title><link>/stories/2013/12/21/a-visit-from-st.-kinkolas/</link><pubDate>Sat, 21 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/12/21/a-visit-from-st.-kinkolas/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Brenda started awake. She heard a shuffling sound, felt rather than saw a body looming over her bed. Someone was in her room! She drew breath to scream. Something&amp;ndash;a gloved finger?&amp;ndash;touched her upper lip.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Hush, my dear,&amp;rdquo; a jovial voice said, &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s all right.&amp;rdquo; A sourceless light bloomed, and Brenda goggled at the impossible figure bending over her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;S-Santa Claus?&amp;rdquo; she whispered.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I bring tidings of joy!” he continued. “This year has been so miserable for so many that the Powers of Christmas have decreed that as many people as possible shall have the secret wishes of their hearts granted.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>