Merry Fucking Christmas, Chad!
#6 of Original Stories
You're a dumb femboy slut delivering Santa's presents to the biggest, buffest, naughtiest croc in town...and accidentally find out the true meaning of Christmas.
Other lifeguard stories:
Special thanks to DukeChristmas and psyChristmas for proofreading!
Merry Christmas!
Merry Fucking Christmas, Chad!
It's Christmas Eve, but let's cut to the chase: all you're thinking about is choking on crocodile dick under the mistletoe. That's why you're here, isn't it? Fucking slut. That's all you are: a slutty, cock-hungry, ass-hauling, furry little elf. And you've got the outfit to prove it; Santa hat, coat, that red velvet hip swing, marshmallow frothing out the brims like you're asking to be ate out. You've got the latex thigh highs sunk into red, sparkly high heeled boots, elbow length gloves carrying that red velvet bag over your shoulder like you've got somewhere to be. That how you think this works? Well, you played the part; Santa made a list, and you checked that shit twice, skimmed through all the twigs to the hunk in red ink at the bottom and signed the deal. And you looked at Santa, you looked him straight in the eye; crossed fingers snug up your ass as you told the fib:
"Don't worry, Santa, I'll get every house in the neighborhood!"
Yeah, right. How'd that chimney feel? Soot speckled your chilled suit like peppermint bark as you slunk down, attitude of an eel, tight bricks locking your thin arms and legs together; small enough to make it, though. Got stuck once, for a minute or two...ass-up. Darkening still as you fell, all sides, arms, legs, save for the last square of midnight above shrinking smaller by the inches. An impish smile took your face, as the ground was probably close, so you slowed yourself, one little nudge at a time. Good first step...and then, gravity.
The ash puffed and spread as your back plunged into the pile of burnt logs; you coughed up a lung and rolled off. Dark like the outside, faint glow of the stars; guess you stuck the landing. You were in the den, a step below the wide kitchen, perpendicular hallway shining a solitary, yellow light. Good news: no fire. Bad news, soot on the vintage rug; rookie mistake. It bled out to the coffee table in front of the couches; one single glass half full of eggnog atop it rippled as something shook the house. Twice. Thrice. It was coming from the stairs. You swung the bag over and emptied the presents on the ground, red and blue boxes, the last one green, sparkling among the rest. He can't miss it. And he can't miss you, too.
The sharp shadow soon eclipsed the rest of the light as the brute thudded in, a clawed finger brushing across the light switch. That's your cue to move, but of course, you don't. You stood there, beady eyed, surrounded in presents with a smile on your face as you stared back into the huge crocodile hunk. Thick jaw, yellow eyes, slit pupils rocking like a level, ripped from his huge arms hulking out the muscle shirt and boxers. He wasn't happy to see you.
Like primal instinct, he grabbed you by the torso with one hand and slammed you against the wall.
"First off, you're not stealing shit," he said. "I'd break you like a twig if you ever tried. Secondly, did you just come down through my chimney?"
And you looked so smug when your head tilted 'yes.' In fact, Santa's sent you with a gift...and if he's up for it, maybe go a little further. He gave an unconvincing glare, but the way he eyed you like the short, femboy fuck you were implied the slightest of a chance.
"Calling the cops would be doing you a favor," he said, breath on your cheek, "so I'll give you one chance to convince me you're not just some midget with a bad attitude."
You stretched your arm out to touch the TV wire plugged into the outlet next to you. Tiny strings of red, electric shocks stringed off your fingertips, "Frosty the Snowman" lighting up the screen. That shit spread fast, the lights on the mantle above the fireplace dotting the coniferous decorations, a red-green-blue-white lining over the counters in the kitchen - and to top it all off, the ceiling light stayed dark. The fan was as still as your smug expression. Nice little parlour trick left him tongue tied like licking an icy pole. Too easy.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," he breathed. "Magic isn't real!"
Yup.
"So...Santa's real?"
Damn right.
"Then you should know I'm on the naughty list."
Big snort, spine curl, hunched eyebrows; a single claw drew across your coat, streaking through the velvet to expose the white string beneath it. Any other scenario, and you would've been worried, but that blue TV glow on his scales foreshadowed all the body language. Just halfway across your chest, the point sank an inch, just enough to land right over your heart. How sweet. He chose you.
"Well, if I knew the adults got gifts like this," Chad said, licking his lips, "I would've gone easy on the last few boyfriends." His buzzing mind took him as he trailed his attention off to your boots. "Then again, maybe not."
What, he called that a challenge? You let him know you're a tough act to follow. You've got an ass with his name on it if he's into that. And yeah, you might be naughty, but you're extra good for him.
A pause for mercy...then he let you hit the ground. Glaring, he straightened himself up as he crossed his arms. Now you were looking at his ripped quads as his tail zigzagged behind him.
"Prove it," he said.
What'll it be?
"Take your underwear off," he commanded.
Finally, something interesting. You reached under your skirt, candy cane striped panties sliding down your thighs as your heart began to race.
"Rip it up."
A wide smile stretched across your face as carried out his command, the straps stretching thin into wisps of string until it snapped in half. Bonus round, you threw it to the ground and stomped on it, hands on your hips as you gazed up at that arrogant croc.
"Good boy," Chad admired. "Come with me."
You shuddered like a bitch with a secret when he put that arm around you, instinctual slut tactics screaming from some faraway room. Patience is a bitch, and for you, it's a chastity cage, so it was no surprise you barely got halfway through the hallway when you started slinking up his shoulder. You told him how you waited the whole year for the moment to swallow his sausage. All the times you've fingered yourself to it, lip-biting moans as fantasies rocked the synapses to bed. You wanted this. You _needed_this, and to think you stiffed out the whole neighborhood just to spend the one night with-
Uh oh.
Somebody just said that out loud.
"Okay, that's enough," he grunted, grabbing your arm. "Get in the car."
And the spark that graced your head meant you probably had this coming. He practically dragged you through to the garage, flicking the light on to the single hummer on the far side, the other slot empty. One click of his keys, the headlights flared, and the whole truck chunked; he dragged you over and threw you in the passenger's seat. Then he got in the driver's seat, barely fitting in the seat with his massive body, and turned on the ignition.
You tried to tell him that this shit isn't gonna-
"I'm not stupid," he said. "I know what this is."
You paused.
"You're bad, slut," Chad growled. "but not bad enough to stiff out your job without anybody noticing."
He yanked the car in reverse, but not before stopping for a second, just to process what was happening, then promptly shook his head.
"Listen, my family's asleep on the second floor," he snarled, turned to the back window, "I don't have time for this. You can drool over my dick all you want, but when a bitch starts ruining Christmas, that's when you've fucked up. Understand?"
You nodded.
"So here's the deal," he snarled, "You'll have this dick, and eat it, too. But there is no way I'm letting you leave this neighborhood without learning the true meaning of Christmas." He stopped dead on the desolate neighborhood road. "The hard way."
Foot on the pedal, hands on your crotch, the neighborhood road escaped you as the gold, white and multicolored lights made streaks on every roof. Icicle icing still bordered the passenger window, maybe the gumdrops wouldn't fall; but when the weather gets too hot, and when that white melts too thick, you know the time is coming for the whole damn house to fall.
The weather outside is frightful,
_ But the fire is so delightful...._
_ And since we've got no place to go,_
_ Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!_
Hot and icy on the fast lane, radio on, wind whistling in the window as you fought to keep your erection tucked under your cute little skirt. Was it the sight of his huge bicep as he gripped that steering wheel? Practically sweating on your brow like you'd never seen a big dude before as your hand seemed to move on its own, gracing over the thigh...
"Wait," Chad ordered; you retracted. "You're gonna do something for me, first."
A left turn, right, left again, and the car grinded to a halt in a parking spot right in front of a huge snowbank, heaving a bit on the seat belt while he stayed perfectly still. A neck crack and a stink eye enticed you to your new surroundings; a big, brick building outside about four stories high, all the windows inside were dark. Outside the front door was the inkling of a large, blue bin, kind of like a recycled garbage disposal with a mail slot for a hole, an arrow painted on it labelled "Donation Bin".
"And by 'me', he said, "I mean somebody else."
You froze up and blinked. He chuckled and pinched your shirt between his thumb and index finger, shaking it. "Take 'em off."
Oh fuck.
"Now," he smirked. "And leave the kinky shit on."
You were in it this far...better do what he says. Breathing alone made your body alive, vibrating to the fingertips as they lowered down to your skirt. They entered the nape and the nerves rang your cheeks to your tongue scraping across your teeth, so you swallowed them down; carry on, carry on, don't keep him waiting. And the chill of a thousand winters hit your crotch as the smooth silk brushed your thighs a final goodbye, hitting the floor. How eager of you to have started with that. The coat wasn't much harder when you unbuttoned it, too, one by one, the coziness leaving you as in seconds, you were completely naked and vulnerable to your dominator. A sigh and a pitiful tail wag, all that was left to do is-
"Wait," he said, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Put 'em in the bag."
You looked back at him with those pathetic little eyes and felt your legs tremble the second you heard the command:
"Put 'em in the bag, slut," said with more playful intensity.
Your heart skipped in tandem with your muscles as you found yourself tipping the bag to let the contents spill out. Six presents, golden and red wrapped paper, pink bows, all brought to the back seat. A sigh and a cough, you put all your clothes inside the bag, tugging it close. After a long, humiliated sigh, you pushed the door open, feeling the cold tundra air hit your body.
"That's it, Jingle Bells," Chad chortled, slapping your ass, "get moving!"
Pushed off, ran as fast as you could, the thick snow indented with craters from your feet, like skipping through quicksand, like a second's hesitation would pin you in place, but you'd best save that sorry ass for later. Just a few more paces away - thank god - the cold swallowing any hesitation you had left as you the bag hit the inside wall of the chute and fell down, down, down.
But the joke's on him. The bloodline of the elves, packed with electricity roiling through your veins; the perfect counter to a blistering tundra. He didn't know; he couldn't. You were full of surprises. You walked back with pride in your step, the tundra chill grazing off your fur like a saran wrap barrier. The crack of your neck and fingers showed the cards...though, for a moment, the thought he could leave you like this ran through your mind.
Nah, he'd never do that. You opened the door and slammed it shut behind you, shivering in the car. And that big muscled lizard tease took one look at you and just laughed. Confusing. His head leaned back as he covered his eyes, seriously enjoying himself. Snow in your hair? Fat face?
Nope. Just a clawed finger at your pelvis. You could feel yourself blush as you then noticed your crotch, seeing your balls tightly snug and your dick shriveled to a pathetic one inch length. And he just let you sit there with him, minutes at a time, laughing and laughing at you like there was no tomorrow. When he finally calmed down, there were tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Oh god," he said, putting the car in reverse, "tonight's gonna be a long night for you, buddy."
He wiped his forearm across his eyes before the car entered the road, then drove off in the reverse order of turns that got you here.
"You having fun over there, slut?"
"Damn, you got a cute ass. You worked that for me?"
"Coulda had it by now if you just behaved."
The green, tree shaped air freshener rocked from side to side as he drove through the snowbank valley, the blasting heat cooking your fur to a popcorn butter; his only showing of mercy. The feeling of nakedness rose every time he made an insult, ducking beneath the dashboard whenever the headlights peaked on the other lane. Seems like he'd never run out of shit to say to you. And now that feeling came back; the distinction between nerves and horny collided. The touch of your fur on the car seat. The roiling tire underfoot. Heh...kinda fucked up. This kind of shit could be seen as a kidnapping. Zip it up. That's what you get for starting this relationship on day one, so you slunk back, covered your shame and let him talk:
"I see you getting hard under there!"
"You make me wanna tie you up in some Christmas lights and pull you on my dick."
"Should've saved those panties to gag you with, you little bitch."
Pre dripped from your tip to your gloves like a wedding ring. Outside the windshield, all the same lights. All the same houses. Yeah, that's right...he was savoring the moment.
Well, joke's on him. Santa has to come back for his elf at some point.
"Can't wait to fuck with you the whole night," Chad smiled. "You're making my mind think of some crazy shit. Heh...jokes aside, this was a pretty fuckin' bad thing you did. Still, though, we're gonna fix this." His voice became sincere. "Promise."
You nodded, though it was a pretty eager one when all is said and done. Some semblance of relief washed over you as he took the next exit, rolling down to the stoplight, the license plate of a Porsche illuminated in yellow in front of you.
"And hey, it's Christmas," Chad said. "Everybody deserves a present." He looked at you and patted his crotch twice.
At first, you didn't move. The hump on his shorts rivaled your wildest expectations; you could almost hear the fabric stretch. Straight shot to the prize; no reason to hold back. Breath causing bodily tremors, your muscles moved like marionette limbs, latching to the ottoman, fingers in the cup holder. Bump under the tire, almost face planted right in that big bulge...not very classy. Those kinky boots didn't lie. Might as well have held your pinky up while you dragged the zipper down by your teeth.
"Better get it out before it gets too big," Chad taunted. "Ripped jean fabric probably ruins the taste."
Oh yeah; you're gonna deal with this now. His trousers curtained apart as you moved to his boxers. Ruffling your shoulders blew off a bit of steam, then a gulp...all right, now you were ready. You slid them down, the vein on his huge length beneath it matching the rough pulse of your heart. And as the car picked up speed, your C-shaped hands held that snaking, golden yellow meat out from the cloth.
Rocking your hips, swirling your tongue around the head, you wondered how your mouth would even fit such a monster. That was a dick you could share with all your friends. One that wriggled in your hands like fighting a cobra. It swelled thicker as you stroked it; the more you whimpered, sighed, cleared your throat, the deeper he sensed your excitement. Like a magnet to his sex, you took a deep breath and let his warm, thick head slowly enter your mouth
"So," he said, "since you're too much of a fucking slut to know, here's what the true meaning of Christmas is."
As the pedal pushed down, so did you, an inch and a head deeper as you began to bob up and down. Big, long sucking him in and out, the thrum of your submission now began to settle in. You were _his_now, ass up to the window, one siren away from a bad night gone worse. Drops of saliva ran down his shaft made your cock thicken while the sound of his throat clearing made you oddly jealous and flustered.
"See, I used to hate Christmas," he said. "I never got any visits from Santa. Not even as a kid. But everybody talked with him, and I didn't see how...dignified he was." He laughed through his teeth. "I mean, look who he sent."
Now it was a challenge. You weren't about to let him degrade you without a compliment; better work for it. So you lowered your mouth further on him, taking in that dick as the scales of his pelvis became closer in seconds.
"But that day on the Navy when the snow fell down on the waters and both sides ceased fire...that stuck with me," he said. "This one day where everybody decided they didn't hate each other. Never seen it before in my life. So after the war, I spent a week looking it up. Skimmed through all the religious bullshit, got to the traditions, presents, elves, and...well. You know."
Wide tongue lapped up the dick, lips adapting to the stretch, body hot like downing a mug of hot chocolate, but he was too busy laughing at his own jab. The shadow obscured your scowl. A right turn swayed the whole car as you swallowed him further, the salty taste of his inches already nicking the back of your throat. You could tell from the sensation of pre left behind; more where that came from. The car engine hummed as it accelerated into the highway; there's your cue. You started bucking your head harder, fondling his large balls through the fabric as you moaned deeply with passion into his big cock.
"It's about a lot of things," he went on. "Depends on your country. Denmark likes advent calendars. Italy puts on shows called 'nativity plays.' China doesn't really give a fuck. But most people who celebrate it give each other gifts, eat good food, and celebrate the close of the-"
A couple inches deeper had him stifling a moan, torso heaving forward as you suckled him down. You wanted to smile, but couldn't, not with something like that in your mouth. Tail wagging, you gave your ass a shake; a little self reward for a good, submissive cockslut. As you throated and gagged, the blinker clicked in unison, feeling the car turn to the right as he let up on the gas. Like a cue from the air, you retreated back a couple inches, your throat brieflly resting as the feeling of his massive head slowly dissolved the lump in your throat.
"Nice mouth," he said. "Anyway, here in the U.S., we do all that. But between you and me, I think a lot of us secretly prefer the whole 'getting shit for free' thing more than anything else. Bet you can figure that one out for yourself." The road broke from smooth to rumbles, the wheels slowing down as he leaned his head back and breathed in satisfaction, finally beginning to lose himself. Mindlessly pumping his lower section, he pressured down on your head, happily fucking your face like a toy. "Uhn...yeah...that's it. Choke on that big dick."
Concentrating hard through the gagging and sputtering, the warm tip punched your Adam's apple, but still, you lowered on him deeper, one hand on the base of his cock while the other pressed against his thigh for support. Mind going slutty as your throat burned, you winked upon instinct; the single answer to his dominance. The recoil brought your head away, further, further, an inch lost, two, three...he wasn't having that. Your tail was swept aside, a second later, a finger plunged into your asshole while he enticed you back into swallowing those inches again. And he only stopped bucking when the car began to move again.
"Speaking of getting shit for free, you really love being a cheap whore, don't you?" he grunted, "I should have to pay for a blowjob this good. Well...enjoy it while it lasts. 'Cause eventually I need to...oh, fuck...."
Get back home? It never left his lips. Gave way to big huffs, then gulps of air as he took in the pleasure of the blowjob. You felt a pressure on the top of your head push you further on his length, gag reflex allowing a cough but not much else. Now you could feel it stretch your throat as saliva poured from your lips down his shaft. His hips once again began to thrust as the car slowed to a crawl. Better yet, he stopped talking. So you went lower. Lower. Giving him that once-in-a-lifetime deepthroat, feeling his huge hardness travel inch by inch down your throat as your nose reached his pelvis.
His eyes rolled back as he came deep into your throat, mini-thrusts to your head driving you completely fucking insane. Your eyes rolled back as cum spilled out the sides of your mouth to drip down to his trousers. Seconds of swallowing spurt after spurt passed until it was too much, so you pulled back, more semen dribbling from your bottom lip to your chin as you continued to jerk him off. He moaned out loud, cock hardening to a rock in incredible pleasure, and for a moment, you thought you heard him squeak as three more powerful spurts streaked across the dashboard, a column of shivers flashing through his body.
The big croc's stomach ballooned and contracted with shock and pleasure, a dreamy lust in his half-open eyes. Watching him was like a waterfall of satisfaction falling down your face, chest, stomach, legs; absorbing it like a snowball. And you wanted more. Though even as his monster was softening further, just looking at it hurt your asshole. The deed was done, but it wasn't even close to the end of the night.
"Damn good blowjob, slut," he growled out the side of his mouth seductively. "But you've gotta hold your end of the deal." He inhaled. "So I brought you here."
You looked around. The towering, huge block with the logo of the mall stood in front of you, windows on with plenty of weary customers walking about inside. Now, the shivers were coming to you. He didn't. He couldn't.
"Hope you remembered the gifts," Chad said. "'Cause you're about to do a little last minute shopping."
You froze up in abashment, a drop of cum falling from your chin to your thigh. And suddenly your voice was frantic, desperate to explain to him why this would never work. You don't have the power, or the alacrity, or the money, or the-
"Yes you do," he commanded. "Don't lie. I know about your infinite credit card."
Dammit! That's sacred information! He must have scoured all the way to the tenth page of Google. And to think they would call it all a conspiracy. Either way, Christmas would be over before Chad would even be done laughing at you. There had to be a way to communicate that with him.
So, you thought it over. You pondered, and pondered...and suddenly, the last resort came to mind. The one protocol sworn by all the elves to only use in emergency situations. It hadn't been used in decades, but perhaps you had no other choice. His muscles were tense with anticipation, smiling wide with humiliating density, one hand reaching for the handle of his door...
...Time to pull it out.
You let him in on a little secret: in the darkest hours of the night, elves have an emergency protocol. In the bleakest hours of the night, those that get lost without a sleigh can send a discharge to the Christmas lights, blinking them rapidly to a color only elves can see, alerting the sleigh overhead of your whereabouts. All you had to do was touch the light source to make it happen. Easy shit: they notice the extra presents still on the sleigh, Santa finds the signal, then swoops in at the last minute. All you had to do was get a house and use it.
...Except for one thing. You missed every house. And the thought of explaining your debacle to Santa like that was too much to bear. So, if you don't send that discharge to everybody, you're going to ruin Christmas for the whole neighborhood. You've already lost your uniform...don't lose your job, too.
He drew his hand back as you explained it to him, still skeptical of it all. Though it was a hell of a faster process than just buying shit at a mall. The curve of his eyebrows and the scrunch of his brow unfolded the longer he thought about it. It looked like he was stuck in statue form. It occurred to you that it'd be more fun if he said "fuck it" and did it his way, but the longer he paused, the less viable that seemed. After a long while, he grabbed the clutch.
"All right," he said, putting the car in reverse. "Let's get to a power plant."
So you passed into the threshold of the road and felt the wheels tough themselves over the icy roads.
Festive music filled the car while your twinkly eyes stuck between the reflection of yourself and the outside world. Red, blue, green lights in the backdrop of countless cars passing on the left of every neighborhood road, every route he sped down. On the clock ticked the minutes: fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, ETA unknown. Even though it was impossible, you felt the eyes inspect you on the highway while you flew by. You felt every spike in the stomach as cars hovered by your side. Your thighs shifted to cover your limp, pathetic little dick, becoming increasingly aware of how many miles away you were from your clothes. Embarrassment superseded reality the more cars passed, and the more Chad laughed at you acting like that. Perhaps missing the mall wasn't as merciful as it seemed.
Sure enough, the exit came up, and at the click of his blinker, you let go of your breath, thanking the last of your dignity he didn't miss the turn. Cruising through the empty slots of a wide open parking lot, save for six or seven spaces, snow on the windshield, a frosty view of a field of concrete infrastructure coming into view, cold as the night around you. You really weren't supposed to be here.
"Get out of the car," he grunted.
He shoved you out without warning; you made one tiny yelp before the frigid, nighttime air battered your fur once again. The door shut on the other side and then locked. A dark blue aura coated the night as you sank your boots in the slushy concrete as the twin railway pipes led the way to a wide landscape of flat concrete. Three large cooling towers painted the indigo sky with streaks of white; the metaphor for your spilling embarrassment as the big croc waded out in front and beckoned you up the tiny staircase to the base.
"Our place is up there," Chad said, motioning to the tallest building on the opposite side of the plant. "Bet you wish you had clothes now, huh?"
You shook your head, "no", covering your hands over your crotch
"Whatever, slut," he laughed, smacking your ass. "The sooner we're out of here, the sooner I'm gonna smash that thing."
You smiled. Don't lie. You fucking smiled. And leading the way wasn't doing anything to hide it.
The mist beyond the creaking fence obscured all features of land outside this place. Funny how the buildings spread so far apart but the oceanlike air felt like a wind tunnel. Like standing on a hill to a room full of paintings, the chill down your spine to suffice. Your boots crunched under the slush and black ice. Lost your balance once or twice, but he set you back in place. Story of your relationship. You couldn't believe how jealous you were of his clothes. Made you feel small, but large, erotically; the repressive emotions that drove the half-chub between your legs.
You turned back to Chad. The falling snow pelted his indigo, nylon jacket as he waded out in front. Nonplussed, he buried his hands deep inside his coat pockets, peering around the place for unfortunate trouble. None of it happened, so you walked, and you whimpered. As the crunching of salt underfoot became closer, Chad cracked his neck and sighed deeply, peering at your naked body like his horny little sex slave. Though the step in his stride appeared to slow. He let out the subtlest of sighs. As a large gust of wind blew the two of you, he shimmied his shoulders and slipped off his jacket, holding it to you.
"Here," he said. "I feel bad."
Shocked, nonplussed, though you'd take it regardless; an arm slipped through and you started feeling a lot more grateful. The coat drooped down in its size while the world felt room temperature from the neck down. Well, almost. As you walked, the fabric graced your thighs, right where the stockings hugged your legs. Either way, you thanked him; the mercy was the thought that counted.
"So, uh..." Chad mumbled. "How do you guys work? I never understood that."
You told him how the North Pole gets its job done every day, and how crunch days aren't as plentiful as you'd think. How all the presents were wrapped and counted, put into rows just on the runway of the sleigh two months in advance. The longer you talked, the more interested he got. Certainly a good way to pass the time before you made your way up to the front doors of the furthest building. Square, gated windows on each one above the doorknobs, to the right, a black-gridded keypad. No problem; an electric shock from your finger sent a red surge through the mechanism, steam rising from the base before the door chunked open. His head turned, a mixture of confusion and shock across his slanted jaw.
"I...."
Well, how'd he think you'd get into the houses without chimneys?
On the lights flickered until it showered the thin hallways your steps lightly echoed through. Looked like an old college building, minus the broom closet you'd fuck him in. You hugged the coat tighter; better not get carried away with thoughts like that. Dim, fluorescent lights, a little life still sparsely dotted the bulletin boards with paper plate snowmen, their brown, accordion arms fallen to the ground. Every time you slowed down, Chad pushed your butt a little further to give thanks to the show you were leading.
Catching your breath, you shyly peered around every door, every corner, the shadows, the metal box with a...
You froze. The metal box with a circle lens stared at you like a hawk, red dot atop it citing you've fucked up for real. Playing with fire was never easy, so you hugged that coat tight, tugging down at the bottom, that careless croc snickering with sexual vigor. A pat on your back brought you into reality with a silent message..."not a word."
The silence rang so clear. A snake tattoo of goosebumps ran up your leg like any second he'd vice grip your cock and ruin all the progress just for fun. And the thought of it only made this shit hotter. You pushed the hem of the coat down by the pockets, hoping it'd be enough, but then again, look at you. Your boots shined and clopped like a runway model, and the rush made you feel the part. These cameras, they taunted you. Jeered at you. Not unlike the ways Santa kept track of all the people of the world, naughty and nice. Now, you were them. The thought corroded your vision, the image of phantom, brown, accordion arms gripping your coat. As they contracted, it lifted, the slight, ever so slight, chill of the room hit your scrotum...
Turning quick, you saw a single claw lifting the back of your coat up a tiny inch.
"Had to get me a look," he smirked.
He'd get much more of that as you made your way to stairs. As you climbed the green, plastic spire, the windows outside kept track of your altitude. You held the railway and stepped, him at the back. Your tail lifted up the coat just enough to expose your trunk; you gave it a little shake just to let him know it's still his, zig-zagging, but the stress still showed through.
"Hurry that ass up!" he gloated, your dick twitching at the same time. Of course you sped it up. Of course you made it bounce. That's just how he liked it. And more importantly, _you_liked him, but hey...don't go admitting shit too quickly.
Back out for business, the door creaked open, and the slick floors squeaked underfoot; to the right, a big plaza with a nice patio overhanging the front lobby. To the left, the electric control wing. Jackpot.
The glossy ghost of light off the floor through the empty hallways would've been eerie had it not been for the tank tagging along; that's a blessing. Doors lined the hallways, no light under the cracks. But somebody was definitely in one of these rooms...you could feel it. What was that noise? Was it just you? You peered around wearily, dark offices looking like sudden phone flashes waiting to happen. Meanwhile, Chad took two steps ahead of you to break your attention, tugging at your coat.
"Silent night, horny night," he smiled, "am I right?"
You drew a finger to your lips.
"Come on, nobody's here," he said. "You've gotta be enjoying yourself."
As much as you shook your head, you ended up hanging it to hide your smile.
"I knew it," he laughed, same with you, twisting yourself away in shyness. Just fuel to the fire; he loved the coy look on your face, and the way you coiled when he teased you. That's when he finally noticed the tent in your jacket and widened his eyes comically.
"Right here on Christmas Eve?" he teased. "I bet you want me to fuck you right in the middle of this hallway. You want my big dick stuffed so far up your ass you won't be able to walk for a month, don't you?"
You fought for your composure, heart pulses from your face to your dick head, tongue poking your cheeks. Your tip sang as a stream of pre cum put a dot in the comfy fabric. Quickly, you checked all the windows; no bright lights, no sounds, not even a mouse. Though every tick in the pipelines smelled of danger, that brute made you feel safe, sexy, used.
"Say it out loud," he said. "I know you want this."
Yes. Yes, _god,_you needed it!
He chuckled. "Then stick that ass up."
Your knees collapsed to the floor as your ass went up, all fours, his tail S-curling on the ground as he mounted behind you, a strand of drool from your lips to the floor as you waited for your tightness to be publicly corrected. And then...nothing. You let go of your breath. You felt weirdly...stupid for feeling that way. At first, it felt like he'd disappeared, and it was the end of a wonderful dream. No; something had stopped him, and the world had become quiet again. Sympathetic, though impatient, you turned to see him deadpan, staring up to some faraway corner. Confused, you found the culprit. Your muscles froze. Your jaw froze. Everything froze.
The cameras.
You scrambled to your feet, one quick look to the stairs before your mind switched and made a break for it. No pathfinder in mind, no plan, no cover; dashing through the snow, a one horse open sleigh as the span of a second blurred like every god damn option. As footsteps bounced off the ceiling to the neighboring rooms, the rush threw you past the elevators and back around again. Looking for an exit. A room. An apology. Anything but a siren; though it's quiet outside. Turned a corner, him behind, hallway's still barren; the mantra of cardio: innocent until proven-better stop that talk. Was it really that safe? Another corner turn; had you come from there? The panic was real while a single tear blemished your fur and the night was thin and the-
You skidded to a halt the minute the sign showed up. "SURVEILLANCE ROOM." Mini tremors massaged your soles as Chad came thudding from yards away, gradually getting quieter as he took notice. An ear to the door, you could hear something stirring-enough to make your heart drop, the shadow of a white flag waving overhead.
No. That's not possible. With one last gesture to him, you reached up and overclocked the keypad. The inner workings clicked, and inch by inch, it creaked its way open.
The room was the size of a food truck, dark except the array of TV panels layered on the back wall, the middle four eclipsed by a tall chair. Somewhere in the room played a music box jingle of "We Wish You A Merry Christmas". A nasally growl buzzed like a vibrator. Music box slowed. So your joints froze up and your eyes locked up. Music box slowed; beneath it, there's that nasally growl again, somehow, the same tone. You shuddered from your neck to your ankles, as the tune sang slower, slower, sl-
Chad snickered. He made prideful steps inside, toothy grin, hardly minding his volume as you held back a gasp. He then held the chair by the top and twisted it like a cap, revealing the hazelnut fur of a snoozing basset hound, arm sagging over the side, tongue lolling out with his pants and belt on the floor. You laughed...the way he presented it was some cartoon shit. With hesitation, you snuck inside the room, and held another unsuspecting gasp. The laptop in front of him was open, bright, and had two strange, furless creatures banging against each other, the sound of their moaning at a fraction of a decibel.
"I'll be damned," Chad chuckled. "He's into some good shit."
You raised your eyebrow, and nobody could blame you; that's some weird shit if you've ever seen it. The slick croc closed out the video and paced about the TV displays. A letter and a number sharpied on a piece of tape labelled the screens. Two of them caught his interest: 7A, 7B. He drew his claw across the buttons until he pressed the largest one on 7A, and suddenly, it shut off. When the tape came rolling out, Chad opened up the back and lightly scratched the film. He did the same with the tape under the next screen. You gasped...he was deleting the evidence.
Then, he got another idea. He closed the video out of the laptop. Checked the file directory for something new. Confusion was on your face as he searched for files, gracing upon one in particular, clicking a button...then, all of a sudden, the TVs turned off. No more cameras. No more trouble.
You blew the weight of the world out your lungs, leaving the fireplace in your heart. Finally in the clear.
"Hey," Chad whispered, fanning the guard's closed eyes before he reached down to his fallen belt. "Mind if I borrow this?"
The subtle gleam from the swinging handcuffs off his finger taunted you, and you were already nodding yes.
And out you were again, wrists bound behind your back, your dom cracking laughs at you while he clutched his coat back in his hand. You laughed along with him, walking through the power plant halls naked, handcuffed and hard. And you were walking for quite some time, taking all his bullshit. That only made him impatient. A hand smacked across your ass cheeks, a toothy grin showing his intent.
"C'mon, get moving, slut!" he cheered. "Let's go save Christmas!"
The smile stretched across your face as you walked, no rush in the slightest; the night could only grow as old as he could grow horny. That encounter sure fired him up. Grabbing your ass and your hips, he felt you up all the way down to your thighs just for fun, getting you to giggle every time. No words broke out between you; just true, overwhelming horniness.
You were losing yourself back to the slut you presented yourself with as he idly fondled and played with you, smacking your ass, prodding your thighs, a few teasing strokes on your rock hard cock whenever he felt like it. All the sound in the rooms blurred to nothing as he teased you, constant reminders to get back on track brought to whispers. The feeling of his fingers left you shuddering with every filthy, horny step, threatening for an orgasm all the way.
You were practically walking in a puddle of your pre-cum as you finally turned the right corner. The sting of your ass felt healed from one corner turn alone, and you were still giggling from nothing but the thrill and the feeling. an immediate sign next to a heavy, grey door labelled "MAIN CONTROL ROOM'. Right beside it, a microphone. Instinctually, you tried to bring your arms up...didn't work like that. And soon, his breath tickled your neck.
"I've got a better idea," Chad growled.
You could feel the tickle of his digits dancing over your ass cheeks, claws nicking the fur ever so slightly like pins and needles. And then...bam. Your sphincter stretched apart, the blunt end of his claw punching your prostate again and again as he shoved into you hard enough to buck your whole hips forward.
"You like it when I use you in public, don't you?" he demanded seductively.
Oh, it felt divine. Your eyes snapped shut as your dick throbbed, balls swinging, ass filling with a crescendo of pleasure, mixing with the sensation across the rest of your body. You couldn't help the moaning, moaning, _moaning_out loud, moaning like you've never moaned before, loud as a horn, high as a kite, straight into that single microphone....
As your dick exploded out the tip, you let out one last mighty yelp, directly into the speakers, orange sparks flying out the bars over it. Spurt after spurt of semen splashed the wall in front of you as you found it hard just to catch your breath. He left you standing there for a while, basking in the experience as your cum rolled to the ground. As expected, the inside of the door chunked open, Chad lightly pushing it open in satisfaction.
Weak knees took you inside as your wet tip still felt sensitive, and inside, you found a shell-shaped room filled with all sorts of buttons. At your humble request, he picked the lock on your handcuffs and tossed them aside. You scratched your chin. All these controls were obfuscated on purpose. No labels. No direction. No manual. No nothing.
Turns out, power plants are hard.
Your breath quickened as you failed to make sense of any of it. Down on your knees, you found a compartment right below the controls. There was a lock you had to turn; one, two, three like the code. Truly, they never thought you'd get this far. God, the inside bundle of thick cables looked like a bad hair day, reaching out from one far side to all the way on the other side of the panel. You plucked one out, and the panels made a noise. You looked up to it, and saw that one of the screens had done dark. You quickly realized...this was every cable that connected to every home of Chad's neighborhood.
Holy shit. There's no way you'd be able to shock them all. Not with such precision. You physically sulked, telling Chad the news. Though he didn't budge a bit.
"Fuck," he sighed. "Well, if there's no way out...might as well open this."
Out a secret coat pocket by his pec, he pulled out a small, decorated box, jingling it at you. The minute you saw it, you knew what it was: the present you gave him. And he saved it all this time. His claws tore at the paper, fragments of its red, shiny gingerbread house symbols scattering the floor, lifted up the lid of the box. When he tore up the tissue paper inside, your heart began to pound, and his eyes began to comically widen.
Nothing but shock on his face. In his fingers he held a string of vibrant red orbs strung together in a long chain, each one about the size of golf balls, but the brilliance of Christmas tree ornaments. For the first time, he was stunned, eyes as wide open as his mouth.
"Are these...anal beads?"
You nodded meekly.
"You were going to give me...anal beads?"
You gulped back the guilt. You had to force it out. Yes. Yes! Of course! You explained how he could try out bottoming for a change, and maybe the next time you met up, you could try something new. Maybe even tonight! Well, that's if things went well. Also, you didn't mean tonight! That's if...well, that's if....
A grunt came from his nostrils. Frustrated. Horny, but frustrated.
"Don't be mistaken, twink," he said, "I know all the bottom dog whistles."
Twirling the beads in his fingers, he eyed you with playful disdain. The spiral of beads was almost hypnotizing. Oh God. The one option left. Like those in the compartment and those that held the beads, all the wires connected in your mind to the true, last resort.
You cleared your throat, breathed in, and told Chad to unplug the wires.
"What?" he asked.
All of them. All at once. It was the only way.
You moved aside as he let go of the anal beads and clamped his hand around one huge clump-about half-and yanking them out, sparks dancing off the tips. Then he reached down and did the same with the others. All the monitors went dark as he clutched them, frozen in confusion. At the same time, you stuck down on all fours and one by one, plugged the beads in your ass, until enough of them stringed out for a good hang. That was phase one.
Okay.
Time for phase two.
The next command:
Cross them to the beads.
"No," Chad gasped. "That would kill you!"
No, it wouldn't! You promised him that. The electricity of your blood was more than enough to power the neighborhood. Even if it was just for a moment. You're the horniest elf slut around, and you've taken dicks far worse than a few thousand volts. On one hand, your life. And in the other...an electro-stimulation orgasm unlike anything you've ever felt.
"Are...are you sure?"
Yes. You were.
Chad struggled to move the wires to your ass, his reflection in the beads seeming to curse him.
"For Christmas?"
For Christmas.
Fire and fury as the connection brought fur-mezzling weight to your ass, mind a blizzard, elven bloodline surging in tandem with pleasure while your cock exploded with a tsunami of semen. Lava lamp dances, angelic creed flashed, open mouthed, drooling symbols in the notches of reality as the world fizzled out, one last snap of satisfaction passing through your brain before your chin clattered to the floor, and the puddle of cum you left behind soaked your fur.
Soft was the ground when the world came back into existence. Mattress. Safety. That's what it felt like. Good, then; it's about time we took it down. The golden light shined from the lamp by the mahogany nightstand, but the orbs of red, blue, green outside the window shined brighter. Your fur was still static, asshole in a bit of pain. Blinked twice. Shook your head around...a window was just right of your bed. There lay a perfect grid of houses lit up from far below, blinking red, green, blue. God, it was soft. The smell of something yummy coiled past your nostrils, so you rolled over to your side. There, a shape of a green mass came into fruition, its resolution growing greater by the second.
"Hey," he hushed. "You were out for a while. I, uh, made you some hot chocolate."
Santa hat on his head, he was shirtless, yellow scales brilliant in the light, accenting his huge pecs and abs, his red boxers snug around his huge package with a single tear up his right thigh. He moved slowly, his finger looped around the cup's handle as he set it down on the nightstand. You picked it up and saw the marshmallows already half dissolving over the top.
The embarrassment coiled through you again when you realized you were still naked, kinky attire still on, ass pivoted towards him. Nervous thoughts naturally hit you: was he planning something? Was the drink spiked? You took a whiff. Peppermint dark chocolate.
"You like this?" he asked, gesturing to his hat. "The front desk gave it to me. Reminds me, uh...don't ask how we got this room."
The look in his eyes was regret. Strange, coming from him. Not a man looking to cause any tricks. Well...okay. You took another sip. A bit too hot, had to blow on it.
"Hey...you did it," he said softly. "Santa's coming."
As the wave of satisfaction set in, you let out a breath and peered out the window. In the distance, you could see a familiar, golden dot flying just under the moon, though still far away. One more sip, and the next minute, you felt the mattress dip into a crater beside you.
"The whole thing was a shock," Chad sighed. "Shit...sorry. Anyway...the resulting shock caused a huge blast all over the place. My scales kept me safe, but it vaporized my shirt. Same with my coat and jeans. And the beads. All I can say is, thank God I was wearing my shock resistant boxers."
You didn't know how to respond. And he kind of resigned himself from that, gazing down at the floor while his bottom lip contracted, eyelids struggling as he thought of a response.
"Fuckin' hell," he said. "I'm just gonna say it. Twink...I don't think I should've powered the neighborhood with your ass. I saw the look on your face and thought there would be another way, but...." He sighed, clavicles slunk. "Shit. I'm not good at apologizing."
Still, your body was weak, but you managed to lean your head against him, his tough oblique feeling like a tight pillow.
"To be fair," he chuckled, "You came all over the floor."
You nodded. Yeah. You did that shit.
"Um," Chad stammered. "There's something I gotta admit. I lied. I don't have family over. All those lights and decoration...it's all for show. I didn't even think to invite them. Don't ask me why. I couldn't tell you."
He took a moment to sulk, shaking his head idly.
"I'm not gonna lie," he said, "I saw you there, kneeling there like a bitch, taking tens of thousands of volts in of your ass like some sort of champion, and all I could think was...." He sighed, a lucid glare in his eyes. "Maybe that's the true meaning of Christmas. To spend quality time with the people you care about." His voice began to shiver. "And now I realize...you're not just a slut. You're the slut."
Your heart sang. The angels flew. It was finally as warm in this room as it was in your stomach. Or your ass, give or take.
"And, well, we're two adults in a motel alone," he said. "There's still a few hours before the sun comes up."
He got up and walked to the nightstand. There he took the small, red and white striped candy cane atop it, and put it vertically in his mouth. Then he crashed onto the pillow beside you on the bed and put his arms over his head, the impact of his crash making you bounce.
"Now...do I care about you?" he joked, chuckling a bit. "Not really. But just for tonight, if you really want to make this special, I'm all yours." He exhaled all the breath in his lungs as he sunk into the pillow, closing his eyes. "All up to you."
The flimsy candy cane jostled between his pointy teeth, threatening to break at any moment. Pause, heartbeat. Pause, heartbeat. The digital clock clicked from one o'four to one o'five. It couldn't be like this all night. Reluctance removed, you slunk over to him to touch over his pec, feeling his strength, and the heart that hammered beneath it. Even he was getting nervous. You went to go further, but a small snap from below startled you, so you looked to his boxers. The green scales of his hip showed through the widening slash in the fabric, tearing wider as the sausage in the middle grew thicker. Both of you needed this. Gracefully, you sucked the hook of the cane in, lowering until your lips reached to his. Shock. Fire. And the cane broke in half in its wake.
Lips sensitive with mint and desire, you drank the bully in, the warmth of his kiss contrasting with the toughness of his thick abs, those of which you glided your hands over like a hungry addict. Breaths between the taste of his lips like the crackle of a fire, you found yourself on top of him, rough net patterns coding the language of your fingertips. And it didn't take much else to slip them into the fabric of his underwear; the last thing between you and his love. Shivers ran down your spine as he held it, pulling them down, feeling him shuffle his thighs when your arms were too short to finish the job. Like candle wax, like snow in the oven, you melted into his warmth as your heart radiated your body. Now you felt his exposed man meat frotting against yours; the first time you didn't feel so small to him.
Damn if you weren't about to feel the stretch, though. The harder his dick became, the more you crawled up his chest, quickly feeling it lift from your crotch to the fleshy tip tapping the rim of your hole. Still, somehow, that thing was growing longer. You grabbed his shoulders and felt up to his neck, leaning into his warm lips between sweet breaths of respite. And soon, a large rod lay snug in between your ass cheeks. Another breath and another inch closer, your legs to his obliques, the rush of his touch on your back slid seductively down to your waist. Your perspective changed from his eyes to his forehead as you felt yourself elevate, and the minute your knees hit the blanket, your ass was already stretching.
It was like it activated a spark that laid deep in your ass; you learned quickly it was actually your prostate; how'd he do it so quickly? Halfway in and he was already making you squeal. All the pain subsided as he pumped that dick in and out of you, nowhere near touching your ass as he made your body a pleasure building machine working the gears in the sun.
A moan between a breath, two more lovely inches pushing inside you. Got you to open your eyes, staring into his slits, poise in his eyebrows that showed that dominant fire. As he bucked harder, your eyes snapped shut, mouth opened wide for a moan, the bulge in your stomach syncing with the trickling tip of his massiveness, the warmth of his skin somehow igniting as your nipples hardened with his heat. Then he had at your ass, one cheek in each hand, pulling it up, down, up, down...as if your ass didn't feel stretched enough. Chin up, teeth grit, a couple gator teeth nibbled at your neck while the blissful pain brought tingling from your feet to your chest. Blushing in ecstasy, your dick slid back and forth in the notch of his six pack as he fucked you harder and harder, now applying kisses to the hickeys he surely left behind.
The pressure of his abs was so rough, like it was squeezing your shaft every time he flexed. But he never did; it was just the perfect storm. The tip rubbing against it drove your penis hot and hard, like the sensation deep inside you, taking over you. The next place was obvious: complete loss of thought. Domination. The liquid hot, steamy dream you'd submit to.
And he felt it, too. He plunged his lips into yours the second he felt your dick clench. You moaned pathetically loud into them as you shot your fluid all over his muscular frame, imagining it mazing through his scales and his muscles as he continued to pound away. That's when he skewered it all the way in, ripples on your ass, all thirteen inches sending pulses through your sensitive hole as your wet, tingling dick tip writhed in the friction of his abs. Fucking you hard, playing with your body, you rocked your head to his shoulder and whistled a tune in his ear. His massive size hammered away as your body erupted, gripping at his large shoulders like they were the last thing you'd ever hold onto. Finally, the pipeline broke, and the wind from his lips was immaculate.
A warm flash spread throughout your ass, and suddenly, fluid crashed wonderfully through your rectum until it flooded the walls and sprayed outside, all while he continuously thrusted with force. Thighs shuddering hard as they streaked with his cum, you squealed like your lungs would give out from the pleasure, the weakness becoming your strength while he made you feel like the luckiest elf to ever live.
When he was finally done, you collapsed to the side of him, still feeling the fluid leave your gaping hole as the both of you panted hard. That deadpan look on his face breathed a wind of satisfaction-almost triumph-as his arms returned behind his head. You slid closer to him and wrapped your arms around his massiveness, stroking your hand in circles around his chest.
The lights were off by now. For hours at a time, you looked down the brute's muscular form; scales glazed with the Christmas lights outside, all the sealed up scars from battle and every notch of his form. Cum still streaked his abs and webbed over his thighs, one of them holding the tattered remains of his ripped boxers. One whole side was completely torn in two. Guess he hadn't slid them down all the way. But he paid no attention. There was nothing stopping either of you from holding each other tight. Right in the moment. Right in the spirit of Christmas.
"Hey," he whispered as you smiled up at him. "You're still not getting any clothes."
You giggled, feeling your slick dick twitch, the head still ringing in pleasure, sandwiched between bodies.
The dot in the sky was getting closer. The significance of the bulbs flashing just outside came back to you. At some point, you needed to go back. You were an elf, after all. The crack of dawn was already showing up beyond the horizon. Not much time. Oh, god almighty, there wasn't much time.
You said you had to go...to go, you said, the second time sounding less like pillow talk. His muscles quivered a bit...a tumult. Maybe not that extreme. Either way, he spoke:
"Then let's get to the roof."
He picked you up and got up, himself. You watched his tail brush across the ground over his scaly butt as he reached for the door handle. Then, he stopped, looking at the ground.
"This is," he grumbled, half-eyed as he looked at you, "probably gonna be awkward."
You giggled out loud, then followed him out, hobbling on dreamy, weak knees, satisfied as you entered the long corridor with cum dripping onto the intricate carpets.
'Twas the dawn of that Christmas, all through the motel, not a creature was stirring, for one last Noel. The stockings were clung to your thighs with his cum, joy in your heart while your asshole was numb. The tenants were nestled, all snug in their beds, and all of your clothes had reduced down to threads. And Chad's cock did swing; yours, too, with a bounce; bursting with joy every step of your flounce.
Now, up on the stairs, there came such a clatter; Chad whirled right around to see what's the matter. The passion was strong, but your legs were too weak; passed out on the ground, your strength reached its peak. So he scooped up your waist and stepped up in a flash; you over his shoulder, the giant croc dashed.
The moon on the breast of the window outside; alas, not a sliver of straightness in sight. Your wandering eyes led you down this great path; shocked from your heart to the depths of your ass. Now the roof he did reach, the journey would end; phasing through clouds, the great man descends:
"On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer, on Vixen! On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch, land on the motel! Now dash away, dash away, dash to the bell!"
And then, in a twink'ling, Chad set you down, presenting you back to the pride of your town. You drew in your hand, and said your goodbyes, all naked and drained from the roof to the sky. Though he did not go yet, no, never that smug; he leaned to your body and gave you a hug. The blizzard was out, but the fire was lit, the sleigh touched the ground to amend this was it.
Though Chad didn't budge; one itch was not sated. Your stockings, your gloves! He tore off the latex. You covered yourself as your shame then inflated; the last of your dignity ripped up and faded. He mocked and he laughed, oh! Never in hatred. Just for the look on your face he awaited. And Saint Nick did gasp, O, the elves were elated, you thought that the crook couldn't leave you degraded!
His answer was clear as the way he dictated:
"Merry Christmas to all,
now, go home naked!"
Thumbnail: Christmas Renekton by xeoniios