Merry Christmas everyone!
Also, in other news, Patreon is hovering right at around the $700 level–it’s gone over and under a couple times this month, just as things have fluctuated, so for January, I’m going to go ahead and start posting seven days a week! What those two days of additional content are going to look like is going to fluctuate, though they probably won’t be normal posts. Instead, I would like to get back into doing things like interactive stories, occasional caption stories, metawriting entries, and other possible ideas I’ve had rolling around in my head.
This January, I’ve decided to start off with a new interactive story to start things off! In the past, voting for the different choices at the end of the story has been difficult to deal with, mostly because tumblr doesn’t have a way to post polls, so this time around, I’m going to be doing something a bit different! There will be two (identical) polls going for each entry in the story, one on twitter (my handle is @WesleyBracken) and one on Patreon, for Patrons only (anyone contributing at least one dollar can access it). That means, Patrons get two votes, essentially, since they can access both polls, while everyone else can vote once on Twitter. I’ll be sure to provide clear links to both polls, to make the process as simple as possible! The first entry in the story will be up on January 3rd!
For your pleasure, here’s one of the Christmas themed shorts I wrote for Patreon contributors this month! We’ll finish off “City of Bears: Lovers and Strangers” over the next couple of days!
Christmas Justice
“And have you been good this year?” Nick asked the little girl on his lap. She nodded vigorously, and started rattling off a list of things she was hoping to get from Santa, while her tired parents looked on the scene. She asked if his beard was real, he gave a laugh, and assured her it was, but when she tugged on it, and he nearly yelped, he almost shouted at her–but kept the rage down. Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes, and all of this will be over. He winked at her over his spectacles and smiled while one of the elves took their photo, and then she was whisked off, and replaced by another child on his old, aching knee.
Nick hadn’t asked for this job–no, he hadn’t asked for any of this. One week before, he had been seventeen, out of school for break, and hanging around the mall in the throngs of shoppers with his friends, and stupidly, on a dare, he had agreed to shoplift something from one of the stores. He couldn’t even remember what it had been, something cheap and small, and he’d gotten out of the store with it, on the way to meet back up with his friends, when a man had grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him.
“Where do you think you’re going with that?” he asked, and palmed the bauble from Nick’s pocket, where he’d stashed it. “That’s very, very naughty of you, you know, stealing like that.”
Nick denied it, and tried to pull away from the man, but his grip was like iron. He’d dragged Nick into a shadowy hallway off the mall concourse, and when he’d woken up–well, Nick wasn’t the young man he remembered being. He was fat–easily 350 pounds, with a thick white beard, his hair balding past the crown of his head, face wrinkled, hands, knees, hips and back aching. He’d stood up in horror, and saw that his clothes had changed as well–he was in a Santa costume, and before he could do anything else, one of the elves from the mall had spotted him, dragged him off, and sat him down in the chair, forcing him to listen to these snot nosed brats beg him for presents, taking picture after picture with him all day long.
That night, when he was finished with his shift, the old man had found him–given him a set of keys, and told Santa to go home to his place and get some rest. Nick had begged him to change him back, and the man had said, “Be good for the next week, and on Christmas Eve, I’ll give you a life you deserve, Santa.”
It had been cryptic and suspicious, but it was the only hope he had. He lived alone in a tiny, dingy apartment, eating and drinking himself to sleep, cock unable to even get hard to jack off or think of having sex with anyone. He just felt miserable, old, and useless. Looking at himself in the mirror, especially naked, made him sick to his stomach, but it was just for a week, right? And now, ten minutes to quitting time, the line dwindling down on Christmas Eve–he was nearly there. The last child toddled off, and he breathed a heavy sigh, as did the elves around him, and they started closing up shop, while Nick went off to get changed and head home.
But on his way there, he found someone waiting for him–the old stranger–and his heart leapt. He tried to run, but his old knees weren’t up to it–he just hobbled on a bit faster until he was in front of him. “Fuck, please–please, I’m sorry, just change me back, please!”
The man smiled. “Are you sure? You did such a good job, making so many children so very happy. Don’t you think being a jolly old man suits you?”
“Fuck you! I fucking hate this. I hate malls, I hate being old–but most of all I hate being fat! My dick doesn’t work and I fucking hate this, all of it. This isn’t fucking fair! You can’t just fucking do this to me, change me back!”
“Disgusting, eh? You don’t think a mature look suits you? Well, perhaps it doesn’t–not quite yet. But you do need to learn to better appreciate your elders, I think. And life, of course, isn’t fair, Nick–it never is, never has been, and never will be. But life can, on occasion, be just, you know?”
It was happening again–he could feel it. He was changing, his vision fading, and he clutched at the wall to steady himself as he went down on his fat ass, the last words of the old man reverberating in his head as darkness overtook him.
Nick startled awake, but didn’t know how much time had passed. Looking down, he wanted to cry–he wasn’t back in his old body, and the old man was nowhere to be seen. Using the wall, he managed to heave himself upright, and waddled down the hall to the locker room there, to see what had happened to him. In the mirror, staring back at him, wasn’t Santa–but rather, the image of a massively obese mall cop, his chubby figure straining the uniform he’d squeezed himself into, chins overflowing his collar, barely hidden behind the short grey beard he had over his face. The worst part though, was that looking at himself there…he felt a shiver of arousal. He looked…good. Hot, even. He gripped his flab and gave it a shake, and while his stomach turned a bit, much stronger that the disgust was a sense of humiliating thrill. Look at him–such a fat fucking pig, fuck! He gave a little snort, and his short, soft cock leaked a bit of precum into the front of his uniform pants–and then the door opened, and Doug stepped into the room with a knowing smile.
Doug, the mall santa, who’d just finished his last shift. He looked the part, and staring at the old man in the red suit…Nick’s knees went weak with desire. “There’s my police pig–it’s your last night to get Santa’s dick! you’d better make it count, and show Santa what a good boy you’ve been this year.”
“Oh fuck yeah Santa, this pig has been extra good this year–give me anything you want, sir, anything!” Nick said, dropping his pants and underwear to the floor, bending over the sink, letting Doug step behind him and slip his cock into Nick’s hole. As Doug fucked him, more and more memories of this life filled Nick’s mind–his role as the bumbling, obese mall cop, too fat to really catch anyone or be of any use at all, who usually was found stuffing himself at the food court all day–when he wasn’t cruising old daddies and sucking their cocks in the bathroom during his shifts. Nick–the old Nick–never really went away, nor did the horror of his new life, and on occasion, the old man would pay him a visit. Nick always did his best, servicing the stranger’s old cock with as much gusto as he could, but he hadn’t agreed to change him back–yet. But maybe one day, he would–that was the last hope Nick had for his new life.
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