“Alright, I have more cookies for you!” your friend said from the kitchen.
“What? More? But I can’t…” you say, but he’s already out in the living room and setting the tray piled high with snickerdoodles down next to you, and they smell so divine. You have one in your mouth before you can stop yourself.
“I’ll get you some more milk too, just a second,” he says, and disappears back into the kitchen. Ten cookies are gone before he comes back with a tall pitcher–you just can’t stop yourself. This has been going on for a few hours now–him baking these amazing cookies, you eating them with an apparently bottomless supply of milk. He leaves, and alone again, you notice something in the TV playing some Christmas movie–a strange reflection in the screen. You reach for the remote and turn it off–and get a better look in the black screen.
“Ho Ho Holy shit!” You exclaim. That isn’t you there on the couch, that’s some fat old man with a giant white beard.
Your friend runs back in from the kitchen, “You weren’t supposed to notice yet!”
“What in the hell did you do to me?” you shout, looking down at your clothing stretched tight across your fat frame, but your friend has already grabbed something from a side table–a pipe, ready packed with tobacco, and he shoves it in your mouth and lights it. You inhale, the cinnamon and clove laced tobacco making your face numb…and you feel…really good, all of a sudden.
“Here, let’s get you out of those clothes–they’re too tight.”
You let your friend undress you, and you stare down in disbelief at your new body. The tobacco is going right to your head, and it feels so good to smoke your pipe and rub your hairy belly with your hands…
“Now go sit down, finish your cookies and milk, and smoke your pipe, Santa.”
“Ho Ho Hokay…” you say, and plop back down on the couch.
Your friend works in the kitchen for a bit and comes out to find the pile gone, the pitcher empty, and your pipe finished. He cleans, refills and lights it for you, then gives you a deep kiss, and you wrap your flabby arms around him and pull him into your lap.
“So tell me, have you been a good boy this year?” you say with a lecherous grin.
“Oh yes Santa, I’ve been very good all year, just for you.”
“Well in that case, Santa has a special sack for you. Why don’t you suck on it for a bit?”
Your friend gets down between your legs, and sucks on your big balls, your dick pressed against his face, smearing precum across his forehead. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good fucking tonight, you think, and ram your candy cane down his throat.