Tags: consensual, cannibalism, loli

Every Whore down in Whoreville liked Spitmas a lot
But the Grimp who lived just North of Whoreville did not!

The Grimp hated Spitmas! The whole Spitmas season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.

It could be, perhaps, that his pants were too tight.
It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right.

But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his dick was two sizes too small.

But, whatever the reason, his shlong or his drawers,
He stood there on Spitmas Eve hating the Whores,

Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grimpy frown
At the warm lighted windows below in their town,

For he knew every Whore in Whoreville down slope
Was busy now, hanging a jolly noose rope.

"And they're sharp'ning their spits," he snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Spitmas! It's practically here!"

Then he growled, with his Grimp fingers nervously drumming,
"I must find some way to keep Spitmas from coming!

For, tomorrow, I know all the Whore girls and boys
Will wake all horny. They'll rush for their fuck toys!

And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
There's one thing I hate! All the NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

And they'll moan and shriek, fucking all partnerships.
They'll dance with fat dildos tied onto their hips.
They'll blow their hot bakers. They'll suck their girl butchers.
They'll blow their hung neighbors. They'll ride their slut ranchers.
They'll breed their teen meatgirls. They'll fuck their young sitters.
They'll gut their whole roasters. They'll stuff their live spitters.
And they'll play noisy games like snuffette roulette,
A lethal cross of six-shooter and croquet!
And then they'll make ear-splitting noise and squakers
On their great big electro whore shockers!

Then the Whores, young and old, will sit down to a feast.
And they'll feast! And they'll feast! And they'll FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!

They'll feast on cum pudding, and rare Whore roast slut.
Hot meat-girl? I'd rather eat anything but!

And then they'll do something I hate most of all!
Every Whore down in Whoreville, the tall and the small,

They'll stand close together, with Spitmas bells ringing.
They'll stand hip-to-hip, and those Whores will start singing!"

Fahoo forays, dahoo dorays
Welcome Spitmas! Come this way
Fahoo forays, dahoo dorays
Welcome Spitmas, Spitmas Day

Welcome, welcome, fahoo ramus
We cum, we cum, dahoo damus
Spitmas Day is in our grasp
So long as we have cunts to clasp

Fahoo forays, dahoo dorays…


"And they'll sing! And they'll sing! And they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!"
And the more the Grimp thought of this Whore Spitmas Sing,
The more the Grimp thought, "I must stop this whole thing!

Why for thirty-three years I've put up with it now!
I must stop Spitmas from coming! But how?"

Then he got an idea! An awful idea!
The Grimp got a wonderful, awful idea!

"I know just what to do!" The Grimp laughed in his throat.
"I'll make a quick Snuffy Claus hat and a coat."

And he chuckled and clucked, "What a great Grimpy trick!
With this coat and this hat, I'll look just like Saint Prick!"


You're a mean one, Mr. Grimp. You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus. You're as charming as an eel.
Mr. Grimp! You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!

You're a monster, Mr. Grimp. Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of mushrooms. You've got tofu in your soul.
Mr. Grimp! I wouldn't fuck you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!


"All I need is a reindeer." The Grimp looked around.
But since reindeer are scarce, there was none to be found.

Did that stop the Grimp? Hah! The Grimp simply said,
"If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead!"

So he took his slave Max, and he took some black thread.
And he tied a big horn on top of her head.

Then he loaded some bags and some old empty sacks
On a ramshackle sleigh and he whistled for Max.

That bare naked slave, Max, she looked quite a sight,
With tits, and her hips, to the sleigh hitched up tight.

Then the Grimp said "Giddyap!" and the sleigh started down
Toward the homes where the Whores lay a-snooze in their town.

All their windows were dark. No one knew he was there.
All the Whores were all dreaming wet dreams without care
When he came to the first little house of the square.

"This is stop number one," the old Grimpy Claus hissed,
As he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist.

Then he slid down the chimney, a squeeze to get through.
But if Snuffy could do it, then the Grimp could, too.

He got stuck only once, for a minute or two.
Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue

Where the little Whore nooses hung all in a row.
"These nooses," he Grimped, "are the first things to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most cruel,
Around the whole house, he took every chef's tool!

Skillets, grills, griddles, kettles, pots, and pans!
Knives, hatchets, skewers, and the spit roasting stands!

And he stuffed them in bags. Then the Grimp, very nimbly,
Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimney.


You're a vile one, Mr. Grimp. You have termites in your smile.
You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile.
Mr. Grimp! Given the choice between the two of you I'd take the seasick crocodile!

You're a rotter, Mr. Grimp. You're the king of sinful sots.
Your heart's a dead tomato splotched with moldy purple spots.
Mr. Grimp! You're a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce!


Then he slunk to the icebox. He took their side dishes!
He took the cum pudding! He took the fresh fishes!

He cleaned out that icebox 'til every thing's taken.
Why, that Grimp even took the last slice of girl bacon!

Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee.
"Now," grinned the Grimp, "I'll push up the J3!"

As the Grimp took the J3, as he started to shove,
He heard a small sound like a mouse making love.

He turned around fast, and he saw a small tot!
Nude 'lil Eleanor Whore; o'er nine she was not.

She stared at the Grimp and said, "Snuffy Claus, why?
Why are you taking our Jessie 3k? Why?"

But, you know, that old Grimp was so smart and so slick,
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!

"Why, my sweet little slit," the fake Snuffy Claus lied,
"There's a blade on this Jessie that's dull on one side.

So I'm taking it home to my workshop, my dear.
I'll fix it up there, then I'll bring it back here."

And his fib fooled the child, but still she did pout with fear,
"Please, be back soon. Mum said I can ride Jessie this year."

Oh, this will not do, thought the faux Claus for real,
If I leave her like this, this Whore pig will squeal.

"Come along, then," he said, "with you at my side,
We’ll sure have it fixed, ere time that you died."

So then with Eleanor Whore tied up in the sleigh,
He crawled up the chimney with Jessie 3k!

Then he went up the chimney himself, the old liar.
And the last thing he took was the log for their fire.
On their walls he left nothing but hooks and some wire.

And the one speck of food that he left in the house
Was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

Then he did the same thing to the other Whores' houses,
Leaving crumbs much too small for the other Whores' mouses!


You nauseate me, Mr. Grimp, with a nauseous super "naus"!
You're a crooked dirty jockey and you drive a crooked hoss.
Mr. Grimp! Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of rubbish imaginable mangled up in tangled up knots!

You're a foul one, Mr. Grimp. You're a nasty-wasty skunk.
Your heart is full of unwashed socks. Your soul is full of gunk.
Mr. Grimp! The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote, "Stink, stank, stunk"!


It was quarter of dawn. All the Whores still a-bed,
All the Whores still a-snooze, when he packed up his sled,

Packed it up with their pots, their knives, their hatchets,
Their spits and their skewers, their grills and skillets!

Up high to the north, to his dark Grimpy cave,
He drove with his load by the back of his slave.

"Pooh-pooh to the Whores!" he was Grimpily humming.
"They're finding out now that no Spitmas is coming!

They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!
Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
Then the Whores down in Whoreville will all cry boo-hoo!

They'll soon find they've got fat meatgirls a-many,
But none will find there, a spit to snuff any."

"Don't fear, Snuffy Claus!" cried the girl tied in knots,
"You've collected so many spits and the pots.

I surely can help you to save Spitmas Day.
If we hurry, the meatgirls we can still slay."

"Ha! There'll be no more Spitmas, small foolish Whore.
I hate every meatgirl, and all sluts!" he swore.
"I say there is no thing which I abhor more."

The Grimp took up a knife and slashed her ties free.
"I loathe every female: none ever wants me."

"Now, Snuffy Claus, I know it's not so," said she,
"Just look at my cute cunt. Won't you please fuck me?"

"No, never," he growled, "just like them all, I bet.
I'll put my dick in, you'll say, is it in yet?"

"Most certainly not. My cunt's tight like a drum.
I'm a virgin meat slut. I'm sure that you'll cum."

So smooth and so sexy, at her he did peer,
Her nude body tempting, when seen from so near.

"Hmph, oh, very well. If you'll suck my dick firm,
I'll give you a try," the old Grimp did confirm.

Soon rigid and hard, his dick filled up her cunt,
So tight was the squeeze, that it made the Grimp grunt.

Eleanor Whore cried, "Yes! Take my pre-teen hole!
Fill me and use me. Fuck me with your meat pole!"

That veal moaned and she squirmed. Young cunt and small prick,
They meshed up so nicely, the Grimp rammed in quick.

So tight and so pleasing, that pussy quaked 'round,
Which sent the Grimp cumming and roared a great sound.

"Well, that was quite fine," the old Grimpy Claus sighed.
"Your cunt was most perfect, both in and outside."

"Thank you, dear Snuffy Claus! My last fuck's complete!
It's your right to cut me, partake of my meat.

No need to delay, you've got many tools here.
Take an arm or a leg, take even my ear."

"I've never cared for girl meat that much," the Grimp huffed,
"Still, your pussy was finer than any I've stuffed."

With scarce a moment's thought, he chose her left hand.
She pressed it to a hot pan, at his command.

Brave Eleanor Whore, she tried not to cry.
"Please fuck me again, Snuffy Claus, while I fry."

Feeling quite horny, Grimpy Claus did just so.
He fucked her young cunt, he fucked her with gusto.

Once her hand was cooked, she offered it to him,
"Eat my hot meat, Snuffy," lifting the roast limb.

The Grimp sank his teeth in to her fried girl paw,
Without pausing his pounding, he filled his maw.

Such flavor! Such juicy sweet richness! Oh, my!
She tasted so good, the Grimp came with a cry!

And what happened then? Well, in Whoreville they say
That the Grimp's tiny dick grew three sizes that day!

His girth and his length, both filled her with aching,
Eleanor Whore's cunt 'twas very near breaking.

He fucked and he fucked till his fucker was sore.
Then the Grimp thought of something he hadn't before.

Maybe Spitmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
Maybe Spitmas, perhaps, means a tight young Whore!

And then the true meaning of Spitmas came through,
And the Grimp found the lust of ten Grimps, plus two!

And now that his dick didn't feel quite so small,
He whizzed with his sled, with bags still heaped up tall.

With a smile to his soul, he descended Mount Crumpet
Cheerily blowing "Who! Who!" on his trumpet.

He rode into Whoreville, making a great noise.
He brought back their spits to the Whore girls and boys.

He brought back their pots and their skillets and fry pans,
Brought back their knives, their skewers and spit stands.

He brought everything back, all the food for the meal!
And he, himself, the Grimp carved the roast girl veal!


Welcome Spitmas. Bring your cheer,
Cheer to all Whores, far and near.

Spitmas Day is in our grasp
So long as we have cunts to clasp.

Spitmas Day will always greet
Just as long as we have meat.

Welcome Spitmas while we stand
Spit to cunt and knife in hand.