The following story is fiction and contains sexual references.  If such a subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please stop reading now.

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Santa Cums Down the Chimney

By

JonHold

St. Nicholas' younger brother, St. John (named for the facilities at the local truck stop where he was conceived during an all night orgy) was busy looking through the Big Green Book. He was making up his yearly list of naughty little boys (and certain nasty big hairy men as well).

"Man, There are some hot numbers out there this year," he said to himself as he adjusted the built in tit-clamps on his new black-leather drag outfit. "I'm going to have to take my vitamins for sure this year."

After a bit more searching of the West Hollywood entries, Santa St. John got up and, adjusting the studded red leather jock strap in his crotchless black leather pants, looked at himself in the big workroom mirror.  "Hot! Very hot!" he thought as he checked out the bulge in the red flash in the otherwise all-black outfit. The heavy leather harness under the black kid leather sleeveless shirt still chaffed a little, he'd have to get one of the workers to saddlesoap it again.

Thinking about the workers, he grumbled to himself. It just wasn't fair that his brother had appropriated all the elves forcing him to make do with nothing but fairies. O', the fairies were good enough workers, and they gave great head if you could get six or eight [sex or ate, for those of you who entirely missed the pun] of them going at the same time, but you just couldn't butt screw the little buggerers with a dick the size of his. An elf, on the other hand, could not only adjust to any size, but stayed tight and hot no matter how long you humped them. But his big brother had all the elves tied up, and that was that.

On the way to the workshop he stopped by the stable to check on his sleigh and billy-goat team. That fucking Randolph was already hitting the bottle again and by Xmas eve his nose would be glowing red again. He really didn't mind Randolph's drinking, but the red nose bit scared off the flighty queens because they thought the red light was cops coming to bust them. That added up to a lot of butts St. John didn't get a shot at every year just because his lead billy-goat was a lush.

St. John checked with the head fairy of the workshop. All the dildo's were packed away and the last of the vibrators were being wrapped now, but there was a hangup with the leather buttplugs. Seems as though one of the suppliers sent a couple of spools of cotton thread instead of linen and all the extra large buttplugs had to be double checked to make sure they wouldn't split open inside of someone. Quality control had only been able to shanghai two elves and a Times Square fairie to do the testing, and it was taking time, especially since the Times Square fairie was insisting on taking each buttplug several times to assure patency. St. John told the head fairy to kick the fuckers ass and get those buttplugs wrapped and put in the sleigh without any more dorking around.

* * * * * * * * * *

It had been three days of high pressure dicking around, but everything was finally ready to go and it was only minutes until the terminator came up and Xmas eve began. He checked his list over again. This year was going to be a real bitch. He was going to have to be going back and forth all over the place because the only way he could get that damn new program from MicroWuss to print the list was sorted by number of naughty things done instead of by location. Some kid he'd never heard of headed the list and lived way the hell out in the middle of nowhere. Who the hell was this Mykkhal character anyway? Well, that didn't really matter. The kid was down for one of the new "Stay-in-Place" high speed vibrators and a pair of patent leather wrist restraints, so he'd slip them on and clean the kids chimney with his tube cleaner, blast the soot loose with some special sauce, and be on his way. Maybe the kids buddy would find him and release him from the restraints before the dildo tore him up too bad.

His next stop was a porn writers party in NYC. That was a long trip that worked out good because he'd be able to take care of a good part of his list in one stop. He'd already had guys like Author22, the Nifty Archivist (big D), Y. Lee Coyote and some others several times, but there was a good list of first timers to the list like Shadow at the ASSGM Archives that would add some spice to the tried and true nasty boys. There were some truly ugly old farts in this group, like that fat old fuck, Jon Hold, but trying to enact some of the fantasies this group could come up with more than made up for any lack of personal grooming. He sure hoped that some of the leather and S&M authors would be inspired by his new get-up and get some good scenes into the fantasy this year.

Happy Holidays to all, and to all a VERY good night…

Let's go to the Party

© Copyright Jon Hold., December 15, 1999

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