Patreon Teaser – The Cursed Elf

Hey all, I’ve been doing some short flash fiction Christmas tales for folks over on Patreon! I’m gonna post a couple of them here for the next few days, but if you want to read them all, you’ll have to head over here! Supporters at the $5 level or higher get access to those, and a bunch of other stuff in the archive. Here’s part one of a little tale about a cursed Elf on a Shelf, enjoy!


Dec 1st.

Mitch blinked awake and checked the clock–not too long after midnight. He wasn’t quite sure what had awoken him, but he did need to take a piss, so he got up out of bed without disturbing his wife, and walked to the bathroom attached to their room. It was too early to even try and aim, so he turned around and sat down, took a long piss, and as his vision adapted to the light, he noticed something odd. There, on the counter with its legs dangling off, was one of those…elf things. The elf on a shelf, right? 

Linda had bought one when they’d first come out for Jeremy, their son who was in college now. She’d changed locations every day, Jeremy had needed to hunt for it, and it helped encourage good behavior, since it was allegedly reporting back to Santa each night. But they hadn’t used it since he was ten or so–almost a decade ago? Why on Earth had she gotten it out now?

Looking at it again, he noticed something else odd about it. It didn’t seem particularly…jolly. The elf had been thin, with a big grin. This one though seemed fat, its clothes dirty looking, with a mischievous sneer across its face. 

“Ya just gonna stare at me, Mitch, or are ya gonna say hello?”

He nearly popped up off the toilet when he heard the voice come from the elf. Then the thing…moved. It got up on the counter, a hairy belly poking out from under the ratty shirt it had on…and was that…a bulge? “What…what the fuck are you?”

“I’m an elf. A bad elf, I suppose Santa would say. Had a pretty good gig for a while, you know? Report on the kids, have a little fun with their dads, harmless! Got fired, stuck me in one of those damn dolls! Well, good news is, I still have my Christmas magic left, and look at you, sexy fella. I’ll be happy to keep an eye on you for the next twenty five days.”

Mitch tried to say something else, but a strange beam shot out of the elves eyes and into Mitch’s own, and his hands flopped down at his side, eyes gleaming, smile wide. 

“That’s it, Mitch. You just relax and let me take care of everything. Aren’t you horny, Daddy? Don’t those big balls of yours just need release?”

The elf hoped over onto Mitch’s thigh, as his cock was beginning to stand upright, his balls sagging lower into the bowl of the toilet. The elf wrapped both arms around his cock and started pumping it, making Mitch groan. 

“That’s it, just stokin’ off, like guys do. You love masturbatin’, don’t you Mitch? Bet you love it more than fucking, you pervert. Looking at porn every chance you get, whacking off in the bathrooms at home, at work. You don’t care if anyone hears you, do you Mitch? Wouldn’t getting caught be kind of…exciting?”

Mitch’s groans got louder and louder, until the bathroom door opened, his wife standing in the doorway as Mitch stroked himself off, shooting a huge load all over the floor in front of him, while Linda just stared, horrified. He looked around for the elf, but the little fucker was nowhere to be found. He tried to sputter an explanation, but she just said that if he wanted to be gross, he could sleep on the couch for the rest of the night, and went back to bed.

Confused and a little scared, Mitch went downstairs and made a little bed on the couch. He didn’t even get settled in before he saw a pair of eyes gleaming at him from a high shelf. Before he could stop himself, he was drifting off into some of the filthiest dreams of his life–at least, until the next night, and the night after that, the elf assuring Mitch this would be a Christmas season he’d never forget.

Early Access: The Christmas Imp’s Secret Santas #1

I have a series of Christmas vignettes that I’m working on this month! I don’t know how many I will get done–the goal is always twelve with these sorts of things, but you know, we’ll see how things go. All of these are based on Patron suggestions, and as such, they’ll get access to them all first! If you’re a patron at the $5 level or more, you can find the full version of this story here. They’ll all start to go public after Christmas for everyone else. In the meantime, have a teaser…


Jesse went into the apartment’s living room on Christmas morning, not really expecting much. He lived alone, and hadn’t really had the time this month to decorate anything. He hadn’t even bothered to go get a tree or anything either. He had a few presents on his table from some college friends and family members around the country who had sent him things at least, but that could wait until after his morning coffee.

But as the pot brewed, and he inspected the small pile, something stood out that he didn’t recognize at all. It was a very small present, wrapped in simple brown paper, and the tag on it didn’t have a name–all it said was that it was from his Secret Santa. His office had already done a secret santa this year though, and he had the socks to prove it. While the coffee finished brewing, he figured he might as well solve this mystery quick–he tore into the paper, and was left with a can of chewing tobacco sitting in his hand.

He just looked at it in confusion. Who in their right mind would have given him this? He didn’t even smoke, much less use chewing tobacco, the entire idea was vile to him. But as he was about to put it down, there was a puff of smoke in the middle of the room, and a strange creature appeared before him. Jesse had no idea what he was looking at–the creature was quite short, no more than three feet tall, and covered in green fur from head to toe. The thing was naked as well, with a stubby cock leaking green tinted precum on the floor of his living room, the beast grinning at him, baring all of it’s sharp teeth in the process.

This was the Christmas Imp. A rather fateful mistake by Santa Claus when he tried to use genetic engineering to make a more perfect elf, he instead ended up with a rather filthy minded monster–one Santa had managed to keep looked away for quite a few years now. However, the imp had escaped in the midst of a rather hectic year at the North Pole, and was now ready to fulfill a few Christmas wishes of his own, though his ideas tended to be a bit…filthier than was traditional for Christmas. “Go on boy,” the imp rasped, one clawed hand toying with his cock, “It’s a special can that Daddy made just for you…”

Jesse wanted to run–he wanted to do pretty much anything other than twist off the top of the can of tobacco and look inside. He didn’t know what chewing tobacco was supposed to look like, but he was pretty sure that the scummy, pasty goo on top of the leaf wasn’t supposed to be there. What in the hell was it? He tried to pry his gaze away from the imp, but he couldn’t. His fingers pushed their way into the gooey leaf, and as he did, he realized what the substance was–it was cum. Someone had cum on top of the leaf, and closed the lid again. It made his stomach turn in disgust, but he couldn’t stop himself as he put the cummy leaf in his mouth, between his teeth and lip.

“More, you need it all, Daddy made it special…” the imp rasped at him…


If you want to read more, and see the other entries as I finish them, support me on Patreon at the $5 level or more!

December Patreon Suggested Stories Ready to Download! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

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.

December Patreon Suggested Stories Ready to Download! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

“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.