Lana sat alone in her apartment by herself, the lights barely above a morbid dim. It was 5 weeks until Christmas and she had just been through the worst week of her life since her parents died in a car crash when she was 19. It had started on Monday when she went to the doctor to follow up on an earlier visit, where she found out that she was barren. Barren. “Are you sure?” she asked the doctor as tears streamed down her face. “Are you (oh God!) sure?”
“Yes, I’m so sorry, but yes,” the doctor told her solemnly, putting his hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner that was anything but.
At home things were even worse. Her longtime boyfriend, Matt the man she thought she was going to marry, broke up with her, telling her that if she couldn’t have children then she wasn’t a real woman was she?
Lana stared at the gun on her coffee table, next to the 2/3’s empty bottle of vodka. She had bought it for protection years ago, but now she wondered, “Can it protect me from the horrible thing my life now is?”
She reached to pick up the gun and as her fingers wrapped around its handle, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” a voice came from the doorway, scaring Lana and ironically making her drop the gun she had bought for protection all those years ago.
“Who are you?” she screamed terrified.
A large figure, dressed in white and red stepped forward into the light and spoke, and when he spoke it was warm and comforting, and she felt safe and secure for the first time in a week, “I’m Santa Claus, and I need your help Lana.”
“Oh my God, I’m going out of my mind. I think Santa Claus is in my house,” she said grabbing the sides of her head.
Santa blew a tiny bit of dust in her face, calming her down, and making her except he was who he claimed to be. He had been through this type of situation before, and found it much easier than trying to convince someone for anywhere from 10 minutes to several hours. “Lana I need you, will you listen to me?”
“Sure, uh, Santa?”
“Santa is fine. Lana I need you to become the new Mrs. Claus. The old one has passed away recently, the Mrs. Claus’s are long lived but not immortal like myself, and I wish for you to take her place.”
“Why me? I’m not even a woman…” she trailed off as tears rose in her eyes and she touched her stomach.
“Fucking Matt. You are a woman Lana, and if you were not barren you would have been an amazing mother. Your ability to care for, nurture, provide emotional support, and encourage are second to none. And those are the qualities I need in a wife if she is to be mother to the elves, and to the children of the world.”
“The children of the world?”
“Yes your motherly spirit would put all who write and visit us at ease, and make them feel safe and loved. Few possess these qualities, and none in the abundance that you do.”
“I always wanted to be a mother,” Lana sniffed. “It’s all I ever really wanted to be.”
“Will you do it then?”
“Yes!” she answered throwing her arms around Santa’s neck. “Yes I will!”
“Thank you Lana,” Santa said as he stroked her hair, an honest sense of relief filling him. “Now I have to let you choose.”
“Choose? Choose what?” Lana asked, anxious to start her new life.
“Choose your new self,” Santa explained. Starting tomorrow you will wake up in a different body each week for the next five weeks. Each body will be decidedly Mrs. Claus but each will be different, and based off what you think a Mrs. Claus should be like. Some may be more mature and home makerish, some may be more sexed up. Some may be fat, while others may be about, ahem, breasts and ass. But at the end of five weeks you will be able to pick which one you feel will be the most comfortable for you as Mrs. Claus.”
“Why 5 different body types? Why can’t I just choose one now?”
“Because any given day you may want to be more sexy, or more motherly. You may feel your breasts are too big, or not big enough. Oddly almost every Mrs. Claus tends to enjoy an enormous ass, but maybe it’s not for you. You will change based on how you feel you could be better week-by-week. Usually the final body is the one that most Mrs. Claus’s go with, big ass and all.”
“Okay, I guess,” Lana agreed, a little confused by the whole thing. “When does it start?”
“When you wake up,” Santa answered as he kissed her on the forehead. Lana immediately swooned, and collapsed into Santa’s arms. He picked her up and carried her to her room, happy with the choice he made for his new bride, and satisfied he could save her from a decision that would have robbed the world of one of its greatest souls.
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