Stan wasn’t quite sure how he was going to stop himself. He had…a vague idea, but without understanding what was happening to him, or his own powers, he had to kind of wing it. What he knew, for sure, was that he couldn’t punish another person like that, and if that meant he had to create someone who could stop him, then so be it. Still, the next stop on his list–as soon as he read the notes on who he was giving his gift to, he knew it couldn’t be this place, this man. A young man named Joshua, a force for good in his community, a teacher, a good friend, a good person–no, he couldn’t hurt this man. He got out of the sleigh with his bag of gifts and slipped into the man’s home, careful not to wake him up, and slipped over to the small Christmas tree, and began rummaging about for Joshua’s gift.
He found it quickly, pulled it out, and set it under the tree, but as he did, he caught the wrapping on a tree branch and tore a large hole in it. Cursing softly under his breath, he inspected the damage, hoping he could fix it somehow…and saw that a leather strap had flopped out from beneath the paper. Curious what the elves might be giving this man which had a leather strap, he tore the paper a bit further to get a better look, and his heart caught in his throat when he saw what was inside.
A harness. A leather harness. Stan touched it, and immediately felt the purpose behind the gift, and he dropped it with a shout. No–No, this wasn’t a gift, this was a fucking punishment! Why would the elves give a good, honest man something like this? He double checked the tag, but he’d pulled out the correct gift–is this the sort of thing he’d been delivering all night? To everyone on his nice and naughty lists? No, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be. He pulled another gift from his sack and opened that one–this time a massive, dildo in the shape of a fist. What the fucking hell? Was this some kind of joke?
“H-Hello? a voice said from the doorway of the living room, “Who–who are you, and how did you get in my house?” Joshua asked, when he saw the scantily clad old man kneeling by his Christmas tree, rummaging through a sack of some sort. Stan looked up with a start, not at all sure what to say, or what to think about what he’d just found–but the harness didn’t give him a chance to reply. Sensing it’s target, the leather came alive, ripped it’s way free from the rest of the wrapping and crawled it’s way across the carpet at an impossible speed, before launching itself into the air and wrapping itself around Joshua’s chest.
He screamed, and tried to pry the leather free from his body with his hands, but the thing only gripped him tighter, other bits of leather disconnecting from it, forming bands that wrapped around his biceps, his wrists and snaking down around his ankles, forming boots and gloves. He clomped around for a moment, before the physical changes began–he cried out in pain and crumpled to the floor, his muscle heating up and spasming as the throbbed and grew. Joshua had always kept himself in good shape, as well as time allowed at least, the his muscle quickly absorbed any fat from his body they could find to fuel their growth, and when his body fat came to rest at an absurdly low level, they began eating away at his brain and his bones–shrinking them both. When the changes subsided, a very different Joshua pushed himself up from the floor, hulking with muscle but only a couple inches over five feet tall. He’d lost forty points of IQ and all of his education, his mind now focused only on pleasure and domination, his balls throbbing with need. He wrapped one gloved hand around his foot long cock with a grunt and began jacking himself off, eyes empty, mouth hanging open and drooling, and all Stan could do was watch in horror at what he’d done–unwittingly, but he felt responsible all the same.
Had he simply been blind? Had the elves tricked him? This must have been their goal all along, but he’d been too caught up in his own selfish fantasies of punishing the naughty to realize what was going on right under his nose. He felt like a fool, but they wouldn’t win–he wouldn’t let them. Because there was one person who definitely deserved punishment here, and it was him. He hadn’t been willing to use Joshua before–but that old Joshua was dead. This brute in front of him? He was perfect, for what he’d had in mind before. He closed his eyes, focusing his will as best he could, trying to direct it, and he watched the empty headed look in Joshua’s eyes turn bright and cruel, his mouth turning up into a sneer. His muscles bulged further, fur bristling all over his body, a thick beard coating his face, now dotted with scars from the numerous fights he’d instigated and won, and he turned his attention to the old, fat man in his living room.
“Well now, don’t you know better than to get caught breaking and entering, Santa?” Joshua said, “I don’t take kindly to people busting into my home you know–people who cross me, why, they don’t usually leave for a very, very long time.” He stalked toward Stan, who braced himself as best he could, but he was still laid flat by a single haymaker from Joshua, straight to his jaw. The muscle pig stood over his latest acquisition, chuckled, and then grabbed one booted foot, and dragged him down into his basement dungeon for his due punishment.
Bracken's Corner 