Kimmy did not believe in the magic of Christmas. She did not buy into magic elves, dancing nutcrackers, or special workshops that cranked out toys. Most of all, Kimmy did not believe in a magic man who wore a red suit, flying through the night on a sleigh pulled by reindeer. Kimmy didn’t believe in these things, because she was eighteen years old, and those silly notions were for kids.
What Kimmy did believe in, was masturbating frequently to thoughts of cockteasing older men. She did not give in and have sex with these men but got herself off to the thoughts of their blueballs and the image of their painful, swollen erections. Kimmy cockteased her teachers, wearing short skirts and going without panties. She cockteased the delivery men, answering the door in towels or her bras and panties. Kimmy cockteased her brother and her father, laying splayed on the couch in tiny thongs that molded to her plump little pussy. She teased her friend’s fathers and brothers, wearing too-tight tops that displayed her round, balloon-like melons.
Kimmy went to bed on Christmas Eve, after jilling her twat to the memory of her brother’s engorged cock tenting his shorts. It was just after 3:00 in the morning when she awoke, though she couldn’t say what it was that had roused her. Now that she was awake, though, she needed a drink. Quietly, Kimmy snuck down the stairs, wearing her thin panties and a silk top without a bra. She stopped at the sound of a rustling in the living room.
Sure that her parents were stuffing presents under the tree, Kimmy poked her head around the corner and watched in disbelief. By the tree was a large man in a red suit, his long white beard swishing as he bent over to place a gift beneath the tree. On the floor sat a large red sack, which was also filled with gifts. On his head was a floppy red hat.
“It’s alright, Kimmy,” he said, standing. “You can come in. Santa knows you’re watching.”
He gave a hearty chuckle and looked her way. Kimmy, awed, stepped into the room.
“Are you... I’m dreaming,” she said, shaking her head.
“No dream,” the fat man said, shouldering his bag. “I know you don’t believe in me, but I believe in you!”
“This is a fucking joke,” Kimmy said.
The old man grinned cheerfully and, as Kimmy watched, he seemed to shrink into nothing but a thin red wisp of smoke, which vanished up the chimney. Kimmy gasped and ran to the door, flinging it open and stepping outside. The cold forgotten in her astonishment, she padded out onto the porch and gaped in disbelief as a red sleigh, pulled by flying reindeer, descended from the roof to hover in front of her. The mere presence of the sleigh cast a warm glow over her and the cold vanished.
“Christmas cheer is no joke,” the old man said. “Each year, one lucky girl is chosen to experience the magic of Christmas for themselves. This year, Kimmy, I’m offering you that chance. Would you like to see how the magic happens?”
Two thoughts entered Kimmy’s slutty, stupid head at that moment. The first was that she did, in fact, want to experience the magic of Christmas. Who wouldn’t? The second was that she loved cockteasing older men, and what man was older than Saint Nick? Her panties were already wet at the thought of it.
“Really?” she asked.
Santa held out his hand. Kimmy reached for it, took the mitten-covered hand in hers, and stepped into the sleigh.
“It’s… it’s so warm!” Kimmy exclaimed, settling her bottom on Santa’s lap and wiggling it.
“That’s the magic of Christmas!” Santa said. “It might be cold outside, but it’s always hot where Santa is!”
Kimmy whooped delightedly as the sleigh suddenly shot away into the sky. Her neighborhood fell away beneath them, and then the entire city. The buildings and lights far below twinkled in the dark like a blanket of holiday mirth, shining through the night. Kimmy settled back against the old man’s chest and gently ground her pussy against the large magic cock she could feel in his trousers.
The sleigh seemed to have no sort of controls or mechanism to guide it, but it had a clock embedded in the front. The clock moved with agonizing slowness, each second seeming to hang for an eternity. Santa’s hand went around Kimmy’s waist, holding her as the sleigh flew, descended, and then landed on the roof of another home.
Kimmy squeaked as she felt her body turn light, misty, and in a flash they were down the chimney and standing in some stranger’s living room. Kimmy helped the old man place gifts under a tree. He never even looked at the names on the gifts, seeming to know which one was which through some magic intuition. The sack, also, never seemed to get any smaller. They vanished up the chimney again and sped off to the next home.
Not even a second had passed by on the clock as they repeated this process at the next home, then the next. Despite the endless number of times it happened, Kimmy didn’t grow tired or hungry. They simply sped through the night, delivering the gifts. All across the world they flew, through the skies of Mexico, Brazil, France, Italy, across the oceans, over the mountains. Millions of gifts, millions of homes, and yet the time never seemed to pass. Doing this, over and over, never seemed boring either. Kimmy felt only a glow of happiness and cheer as she helped the old man deliver gifts around the world. Finally, the sack was empty.
“The North Pole awaits!” Santa declared. “Would you like to see it for yourself, Kimmy?”
“Absolutely!” Kimmy cried, ecstatically.
The sleigh flew on, far across the frozen tundra, until they passed through a shimmering bubble that hid the magical land of the North Pole. The sleigh descended until it came to rest on the snow-covered ground outside Santa’s home. Kimmy gasped at the beauty of it, a thing right out of every Christmas story she’d ever heard. The gingerbread house was decked with lights, the bushes outside made of gumdrops. The home itself seemed held together by sugary frosting and the laughter of children.
Kimmy stepped out of the sled and into the snow, but her feet did not feel cold. She followed the old man into the house, where the soft sound of carols seemed to play from all around her. Inside, a plump old woman greeted them with hot cider and a tray of cookies.
“Is this the special girl for this year?” the old woman asked, her rosy cheeks alight with joy.
“This is Kimmy!” Santa declared. “She’s this year’s special girl!”
The old woman handed Kimmy a cookie and a mug of hot cider.
“This is incredible!” Kimmy exclaimed, taking a sip of the cider.
The warm drink was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and the cookie was like tasting an orgasm. The old woman led Kimmy into a sitting room, where she sat her on a big red couch. Kimmy finished the cookie in no time and drank more of the cider. Good didn’t even begin to describe it. It was like drinking honey from heaven! When the mug was empty which happened quickly, Kimmy felt exhausted. It had been a long night, after all, and delivering presents to millions of homes must have taken its toll.
“Just rest easy, honey,” the old woman said. “Let the magic happen.”
Kimmy let the magic happen.
When Kimmy awoke, she was lying on her side on the couch. She tugged at her arms, but they wouldn’t move. She looked down and two things immediately made her frightened. The first was the big red bow around her wrists. The second, and more immediate concern, was the enormous cock in her mouth, stretching her lips around its immense girth painfully. A gigantic hand rested on her head.
“There we are,” the old man said. “Good to have you back.”
“Mph!” Kimmy mumbled around his cock.
“As this year’s special girl, you’re going to get to help the North Pole make all the magic of Christmas for people who weren’t naughty,” the old man said, and then he began to slowly pump his erect cock between Kimmy’s lips.
“You see, KiKi,” he said, “The people on the naughty list get to help Santa produce the magic for the ones that were good. The North Pole is your new home now.”
Kimmy felt frightened and confused. Her name was not KiKi, which the old man seemed to have forgotten, and she did not like the idea of the North Pole becoming her new home, nor the idea of producing Christmas magic. The old woman appeared, carrying a pink collar in her hand. As she neared, and put the thing around Kimmy’s neck, she saw the wreath-shaped tag on the collar. It read, “KiKi.”
Kimmy tried to struggle, but it was no use. The old man’s grip on her head was powerful. As her eyes watered, a glowing portal of some kind materialized in front of them. The portal wavered, and then it came to life with images. The image was of her. She was wearing a pair of tiny panties and her legs were spread as she played with her phone. Her brother watched her from a nearby chair, rubbing his aching cock as Kimmy taunted him with her pussy.
“You were a very naughty girl this year, KiKi,” Santa explained. “Very naughty. You cockteased so many men, and Santa saw them all. Santa also saw you go home and rub your little cunt to it, delighting in the misery you caused them.”
The old man extracted his cock from Kimmy’s mouth, and she felt a torrent of saliva pour forth, like he’d uncorked a bottle, and she gasped in air. The old man picked her up easily and positioned her over his cock like she was nothing more than a rubber sex doll.
“No! Please! I’m sorry!” Kimmy wailed, but the old man lowered her onto his cock.
Kimmy screeched and bucked, but his swollen member parted her lips and stretched her open, just as easily as they’d penetrated all those chimneys. Kimmy let out a long, slutty moan as the big, magic penis sank into her depths. She’d never felt so full, so stretched. The old man’s hands groped her melons as he bounced her on his cock. The screen continued to play, showing image after image of Kimmy cockteasing her friend’s fathers, her teachers, delivery men, grocers.
“Christmas magic comes from the misery of sluts, KiKi,” Santa explained. “You’re going to produce a great deal of magic here in the timeless north.”
Kimmy wailed and her pussy contracted, spasming as though she was going to cum, but it wouldn’t happen. As the old man fucked her, she felt hotter, wetter than she’d ever been. Still, she couldn’t orgasm. The familiar feeling was there, but she just couldn’t seem to push herself over and get that ultimate feeling of pleasure. Soon, she began to cry through the hot, hard fucking, because the feeling in her cunt was growing desperate.
“Please…” she begged, “Please, I need… need to cum!”
The old man only gave his hearty laugh and then pulled her off of his cock. He slung the nude Kimmy over his shoulder, like his sack of gifts, and they left the house. Kimmy, her pussy drooling with need, felt her tits bumping against his back with each step across the snow-covered ground.
“Please! I want to go home!” Kimmy cried.
“This is your home, KiKi. Just a little twitch of Santa’s nose, and everyone’s already forgotten you even existed.”
“No!” Kimmy wailed.
The old man pushed open the door of a brightly lit building and unslung Kimmy from his shoulder. He carried her in his arms. Kimmy looked about in horror. The place was bustling with activity, short men in green overalls and green caps running this way and that. In lines across the floor were other girls, each of them strapped down, bent over, nude. They had what looked like pumping machines attached to their tits and ring gags in their mouths.
Their legs were spread, and the short men were standing behind them. Next to the men were boxes filled with a variety of dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, of varying sizes and shapes. The elves, she guessed, were shoving the toys into the girls’ holes repeatedly. The girls groaned and squealed as they did this, until the toys were pulled from them, the men checked something off on a list, and then set the toy into a different box. Then, they took up the next, and the process repeated itself.
The old man pushed Kimmy into one of the vacant spots, secured her collar to a chain, then unwrapped the bow on her hands. He put her wrists into metal cuffs, kicked her legs apart, and then fastened her ankles likewise. Next, he attached cups to her tits, and she heard him flick a switch. The cups sucked at her melons painfully and Kimmy shrieked. The old man affixed a ring gag to her mouth. Kimmy, crying, looked into the vacant, soulless eyes of the girl strapped in next to her.
The girl seemed dead inside, grunting like an animal as the machine sucked on her tits and a short man violated her asshole with a large red toy. He picked another from the box, a swollen and knotted thing that looked like a dog cock, and then pushed it into the girl’s cunt. She gave a soft whimper but otherwise seemed unphased as drool leaked from her mouth.
“Now, for every year of Christmas magic your cunt and tits produce,” Santa explained, “You’ll be allowed one orgasm.”
Kimmy sobbed and babbled.
“Don’t worry about getting too tired,” he continued, “The magic of Christmas will make sure you’re never tired or hungry!”
Kimmy babbled again. A short man mounted the stepladder in front of her stall and pushed his cock into her mouth. Kimmy struggled against the restraints uselessly as he pumped his erection into her suckhole.
“The elves will make sure you’re always full of magic seed,” Santa assured her, “so that you keep making the magic. Merry Christmas, KiKi!”
The old man turned and left the workshop, just as the short man ejaculated a stream of incredibly delicious magic seed into Kimmy’s mouth. The taste of it was like pure bliss and Kimmy felt her cunt liberally drooling as it splashed against her tongue. Behind her, another of the short men smeared her cunt honey onto the end of something large, round, and rubbery. Kimmy squealed and jerked as he pushed the thing into her ass, and it began to vibrate violently. A moment later, he pushed something else into her fuckhole and Kimmy wailed, her body tense, desperate for an orgasm that she knew she wouldn’t get.
Outside, beyond the magic barrier, Kimmy’s family awoke to the joy of Christmas morning. Her father passed by her room, stopping and staring into it in confusion. Why had they decorated the spare room in that girly pink? He shrugged, then resumed his course, already drawing up plans to clear that shit out and convert it into a playroom. A sex swing would fit quite nicely over the spot where that silly, girly bed was sitting.