Santa and the MILF
- 3 years ago
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Santa Babe free porn video
Santa Babe by Daniel A. Wolfe (aka D.A.W.)
Author's Note
I sat on this story for more than a year, but I finally decided to dust
it off and finish it just in time for Christmas. It's a little more
'fetishy' than my usual stuff, but I hope you like it.
-------
"Ho, ho, oh no!" The fat bastard rolled out of the sled falling face
first and produced a thud that shook the whole damn roof.
"Clumsy old coot," I grumbled under my breath and hopped out of the
sleigh to help my red velvet attired boss back to his feet.
Not that I was much fucking help. The old man was over three feet taller
than me and weighed at least four times as much. Regardless the big man
was back on his feet, velvet bag slung over his shoulder, staggering
toward the chimney.
I shook my head, glanced about the roof, spotted Santa's flask and
swooped down to retrieve it. He must have dropped the damned thing when
he took his little tumble. I glanced back at the big man, then opened
the container and took a good whiff. "Say what you will about him, but
the man has great taste," I mumbled and took a sip of the whiskey
inside. "I wish he'd stop drinking on the fucking job."
I slipped the flask into his belt, as elves do not have pockets, and
turned back toward the chimney just in time to watch the big man
disappear inside. For being so drunk, he sure seemed to haul major ass.
I grumbled a dozen or so choice curses under my breath, and followed
suit, hopping inside with a single gravity-leap that no human could
duplicate.
The thing about modern chimneys most people don't realize is that
although the opening atop the roof is wide, they taper down to a much
smaller hole just big enough to let the smoke out. A mortal, even one
who wasn't a huge fat ass, like Santa, would never have been able to fit
through. Lucky, for us, neither Santa nor myself were mortals.
When I emerged, I found the big man stumbling about and dragging the bag
through the room while sloshing an open bottle of brandy all over Hal
McCain's living room carpet.
What the actual fuck? How the hell had he gotten hold of another damn
bottle?
It hadn't always been like this. In his heyday, Santa had been the jolly
gift-giver of which the stories all spoke, but ever since he'd walked in
on his old lady fucking the hell out of Jack Frost he hadn't been the
same. He'd picked up the bottle a few months after his wife left and
hadn't put it down since. That was a little over a decade ago and as you
can image it had been a living hell.
It was about goddamned time someone put a stop to it. I clenched both
fists at my side glowered at the fat son of a bitch and pounced on the
fucker. Santa was even more bombed than usual, so it was damned easy to
walk up and yank the bottle out of his wrinkled old hand, but I was so
angry that I used a lot more force than I needed. For my troubles, I
managed to splattering alcohol all over the front of my tunic.
"God dammit," I cursed, wiping it off as best I could and glared up at
ol' Nick between gritted teeth. "Look man, this has gotta stop, I know
you miss her, but, shit, look what you're doing to yourself."
Santa didn't say a word, instead raising a single white-gloved hand,
index-finger held up, swallowed hard and let out a belch to end all
belches. Goddamned it smelled so bad it brought tears to my eyes.
Santa turned away and dug through his bag. At first, I assumed the
asshole was retrieving gifts for Hal and his son but then the wily old
bastard produced another bottle, this one filled with a pink fluid, from
inside the sack.
There was a reason Santa could deliver so many gifts to the entire world
without going to and from the North Pole hundreds of thousands of times
a night. His sack wasn't so much of a bag as a portal through space and
time. He could reach through and retrieve any item inside the workshop.
I'd once seen him pull a tool chest out to render repairs to his sled.
I should have figured he'd try something along those lines. That must
have been how he'd gotten hold of the brandy. I cursed myself and
extended a hand to grab the pink fluid out of his hands, but the old man
jerked back before I could even get close.
What the hell kind of drink was it? Although elves enjoyed many fruity
and sweet concoctions in our off hours, they were stored separately from
the ones in the workshop. Despite the old man's love of cookies and
sweets, his taste in alcohol tended toward spirits and liqueurs. So,
either, someone was sneaking drinks on the job or...
"Oh shit," I cursed under my breath as realization dawned on me.
It wasn't an alcoholic beverage that the old man had retrieved from the
bag per se, but a potion and if I was right about which one I needed get
it away from the big guy. I made another grab for the bottle, but he
pushed me away. For my efforts I stumbled forward and fell flat on my
face.
I scrambled back to my feet, but by then he'd already unstopped the
bottle. My heart skipped a beat as he downed damn near half in one gulp.
Santa beamed down at me, and I stared back at him with wide eyes waiting
for the changes to happen. The old fucker had no clue what he'd just
consumed. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but as he brought the
potion up to his lips, he grunted and jerked forward, collapsing to his
knees.
I lurched forward, throwing my hands out to catch the potion as he fell,
but not before I splattered the remaining contents all over the front of
my tunic.
"Dammit all to hell." I gritted my teeth attempting to wipe it away with
my sleeve of my shirt, but it had already soaked through. It fizzled
against my skin.
Santa groaned, and I stared up at him watching as his flesh rippled. I'd
never seen the potion at work before, but I knew what to expect. It
would be a quick transformation, but the process would be far from
painless.
I watched my mouth agape as his bowl full of jelly, he had been so
careful to maintained over so many centuries, dissolved into his body
save for two lumps that rolled his now flat belly and into his chest
taking up residence around his nipples. His pants fell down around his
ankles and I could not look away though the old man wore no underwear.
His body creaked and popped and he fell onto his side and I could see
his hips shifting around. Bones were shattering and re-fusing back
together, I had no illusion that what he was experiencing was painful
beyond imagining.
He gasped and moaned with each new change. His spine creaked, and it
snapped inward curving and taking on a more feminine alignment. The old
man's arms came next, fat melted away bones and muscle popped and
shifted. His nails jagged and dirty, smoothed out and grew out from his
finger tips, taking on a glossy red cast that was the perfect match for
his coat.
Everywhere the changes swept across his form, muscles and bones
reformed, fat drained away and piece by piece his body became soft and
very, very womanlike. I swallowed hard and watched as his shoulders,
legs, feet and everything left in between succumbed to the magic of the
potion.
He groaned, reaching for his crotch as his male parts shrunk into his
body, in their place formed a vulva. His hands slipped away from his
privates, up his chest and over his neck. He grabbed fistfuls of his
beard hair and I watched tears streaming down my face as the hair fell
to the ground revealing the face beneath. It was the countenance of a
stranger, unassuming and average. No elf had gazed upon the beardless
face of Saint Nicholas in living memory.
I stared into his eyes breath caught in my throat. He emitted another
moan, but this time it sounded too soft... too feminine. I watched his
facial features contort, and after his nose shrunk, his skin tightened,
and his lips filled out I looked into the face of a very attractive
young woman. The only familiar feature that remains was his bright blue
eyes, and they had a sparkle to them I'd not seen in years.
Santa sighed, and pulled her stocking cap free from her head, white
hairs fluttered to the ground at her feet and long brown hair exploded
from her head in ringlets.
She glanced down at her hands, flexing her long delicate finger a slow
smile forming on her face. I watched her climb to her feet, no longer
lurching or jerking about. Her movements were fluid, relaxed, and very
deliberate. I don't know if the transformation had burned the alcohol
out of her body or if it was a result of some other side effect, but it
was clear it had sobered her up.
She stepped out of her boots, revealing her dainty feet resplendent in
red nail polish.
I cleared my throat and Santa turned her head staring upon me with those
sparkling blue eyes. "Santa... the Aphrodite formula. What have you
done?"
"Ho, ho, ho." It sounded so odd coming from such a feminine voice and
yet... there was a merriness to it that only the true Santa could ever
manage. She smirked at me, dropped her coat and I stood there cheeks
burning as I stared upon her naked form.
I had never seen the like, elf women were stick thin and had little in
the way of a figure. Santa, in her transformed body was not fat by any
means, but she had curves. Her ass was round and her breasts were large.
God, I wanted to squeeze them.
I coughed and turned away, my cheeks burning. God, this was Santa for
hell sakes I couldn't be thinking such thoughts about her even if she
looked like that.
I sensed movement and risked another look. She snapped her fingers and
her magic swirled to life all around her. Her coat, trousers and boots
rose into the air spinning in a dizzying array of color. The coat and
trousers wrapped around her body, conforming to her new curves, but not
in their previous form. The fabric ripped and tore and wove back
together, the white fur trim slithered along the outside of the hem
taking up residence along the bottom of the new garment and around the
neck in a V-shape that helped hold up the new dress.
It was a form-fitting sleeveless velvet dress that left little to the
imagination. It accentuated her new curves rather than concealed them.
Her boots came next, splitting open and then wrapping around her feet.
Twisting and contorting as they climbed up her legs stopping a few
inches below her knees. The heels rose, and Santa stumbled forward,
throwing a hand up to help balance herself. A pair of candy cane
earrings appeared dangling from her ears. Her fingers touched her face
and when she brought them away, I felt weak in the knees. She had been
beautiful before, but with the cosmetics that now adorned her face she
looked the part of a goddess.
I swallowed hard and glanced down at the bottle. They had abandoned the
Aphrodite formula for good reason. The elves who'd created it hadn't
been able to reverse the effects. In small doses it would wear off in
time, but Santa had consumed more than enough to make it permanent.
Worse, it didn't just transform the person who drank it, it made them
like their new form and it made them libidinous... very libidinous.
"You know... Samson-" Santa bit her finger and smiled down at me. Her
eyes sparkled, and I felt a sense of dread come over me as I recognized
that look. "I believe Hal has been a very naughty boy this year."
"Santa!" I called after her as she sashayed further into the McCain
home. She'd already adjusted to her form, another effect of the potion.
Her hips swayed with the casual and fluid grace of a natural born woman.
"Please, let me take you back to the workshop. The elders can figure
something out."
My cries fell on deaf ears. I watched her disappear, then with the
bottle still in hand, I growled under my breath and followed her. How
the hell was I going to explain this? Santa turned into some sex crazed
nympho? The elders would blame me, I knew it. They had commanded me to
keep a close watch on Santa and keep her from doing anything too rash.
This was not what anyone had expected, but it was rash.
When I caught up to her, I grabbed her hand and dug my heals in.
"Please, stop!"
"Sammie." She turned back and smiled down at me a hand touching reaching
out to touch my cheek. She stood there staring into my eyes then glanced
down at my chest where the alcohol and potion had soaked through the
tunic. "It's all right. You'll understand soon."
I stared at her mouth hanging open as she slipped her hand free and
moved away. This time I didn't stop her. It didn't even occur. By the
time I came to my senses she'd slipped into the master bedroom. Where
Hal McCain, single father, slept.
My heart hammered in my chest as I looked inside. I knew what to expect,
but even so I thought my eyes might pop out of my head when I saw her
dress fall to the ground at her feet.
"Hal," she called the name, a siren luring him back into the waking
world. I opened my mouth ready to call out and remind Santa of her
identity, but stopped when I felt a stabbing pain in the pit of my
stomach. I hunched over, clutching at my gut, baffled. Another jolt,
shot through my body and I bit my lip glancing down at the label on the
bottle.
'Aphrodite potion. Warning: Intended for human use only. Avoid skin
contact.'
I swallowed hard and dropped the bottle, watching it shatter as my
inside twisted and turned. My bones cracked and popped and piece by
piece my flesh bent and contorted into unfamiliar new proportions.
Unlike, my boss I did not have much fat on my body, but in most ways my
transformation mirrored his. Instead of fat being repositioned or fading
away, it materialized and expanded where my new proportions required it.
My legs, torso and arm flashed in agony, snapping and popping as they
extended out. I was growing beyond elf proportions.
When the transformation ended, I knelt panting and gasping for breathe.
My tunic was so tight, it was all I could do to bring in breathe. I
glanced down at my body and looked down at a set of large breasts. I
gritted my teeth, straining to bring in air. My lungs burned.
I tore at the tunic, my heart hammering in my chest even quicker than
before. Already strained by my change and torn in several places, the
fabric gave way to my green-coated nails. As my new bosoms sprang free,
I remained there taking in deep breaths.
When I caught my breath, I fell onto my rump, startled to realize I had
a lot more padding than I was accustomed. I looked down, giving myself
my first good look over. Like Santa, I'd taken on a far more voluptuous
form. A nice rack, curved spine and an ass I could have sunk my teeth
into. Not to mention I'd grown several feet. I looked like some
ridiculous play thing. I slid a hand up the side of my head, slipping it
under my new strawberry-blond locks to find purchase around my ears and
let out a long sigh when my fingers touched the point. Though I had
grown to human proportions, I'd retained the most important trait of
elfhood.
I cupped my bare breasts and bit my lips feeling a slow smile creep onto
my face. My mind raced as I felt a new stirring awaken within me.
Why had I been so terrified by Santa's transformation? I felt amazing.
I heard moaning from the bedroom and peeked inside feeling my cheeks
burn. Santa, and Hal were going at it like rabbits. He was coming down
on her hard. I licked my lips and glanced down at myself one final time.
God, I wanted to join in.
I rose to my feet and stepped into the doorway. Though, like Santa I
could have snapped my fingers and transfigured my clothing, it would
have been a wasted effort. I tore at the shredded remains of my tunic
and let the pieces flutter to the ground in a trail behind me as I moved
into the room. My tights came free, in shreds and clumps, already
strained by my thick thighs and longer legs. My shoes burst open, unable
to contain my new larger feet as I moved. Though short by human
standards, I had gone from the size of a small toddler to a small adult
human.
I bit my lip, feeling my cheeks burn as what I was about to do hit home.
Not in my many thousands of years would I have ever once considered
engaging in such acts. Samson was a dried up old prune, Sammie, on the
other hand, was very horny.
A hand touched my thigh and my face stretched back into a smile as Santa
pulled me toward the bed. All resistance melted away and soon I felt
Santa's soft lips on my breasts and Hal's large dick throbbing inside
me. Not once in centuries worth of existence have I felt such pleasure,
nor had I ever screamed until my throat went raw.
-------
I flexed my hands in front of my face, still not able to believe what
I'd done, or I didn't seem to mind. Glancing down at myself, my cheeks
burned as some remnant of the old Samson rose to the surface. My old
self would have died at the very thought of any elf wearing something so
revealing, but now it seemed, almost natural.
I wore no shirt, or blouse, but instead a red and white stripped bra as
a top. A matching set of stripped stockings covered my legs, and instead
of the more tradition elf-shoes I now wore a pair of black stiletto
heels. A green stocking cap adorned my head and instead of tights I wore
a tight green mini skirt with white lace along the bottom and a
traditional belt with a brass buckle to hold it up. I looked sexy as
fuck and I didn't feel at all ashamed to admit it to myself.
I watched Santa climb into the sleigh and felt my cheeks burn anew. Our
relationship had taken an unexpected twist and nothing would ever be the
same between us, but as I looked her over, I felt my breath catch in my
throat. Before her transformation, Santa had been worn out and tired,
within her new form I saw a renewed energy and vigor. Though she had
changed in almost every way conceivable, in some ways I saw the old
Santa returned.
There was that familiar child-like joy and merriment that had so defined
her before Mrs. Claus betrayal and it warmed my heart to see it return.
Even the reindeer had picked up on it, their heads perked up at the mere
site of her. There was a magic bond between the animals and their
mistress, one which ensured they would always know the Clause no matter
what form she took.
Santa leaned forward and glanced at me licking her lips. She slipped a
hand behind my back and pulled me forward, locking her lips around mind.
She smelled of chocolate chip cookies and tasted of peppermints.
When we broke for air, I cleared my throat and peered out across the
horizon. We had all the time in the world, amongst Santa's abilities was
the power to create bubbles of time. While the rest of the world
remained frozen, Santa could get to work delivering presents and
climbing down chimneys. Though I would have loved to strip Santa naked
and fuck her silly, I felt compelled to continue onward. It was, after
all, my sworn duty as one of Santa's elves to help her deliver gifts. I
bit my lip and turned back to the boss lady. "Where to now?"
Santa smirked, retrieving the reins and met my gaze. "Krissy Delaney.
She's been very naughty this year."
My face lit up at the prospect as the sleigh lurched forward. Santa
called out that all too familiar command. "Now, Dasher! now, Dancer!
now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!"
It was the first time in decades, I'd heard her speak those words with
such passion and joy. If I hadn't been for the potion that might have
been what had convinced me that Santa's transformation was for the
better, but after my metamorphosis I had needed no convincing.
I shuddered as he went hurtling through the air. Not from the cold, my
magic protected me from even the harshest of winter weather. No, I
trembled at the prospect of what a visit to Krissy Delaney would entail.
She was a lingerie model and the Christmas Catalog she'd been featured
in this year had been very popular among the younger male denizens of
the North Pole this year. Not in my wildest fantasied had I ever dreamed
she might give me the time of day, but I was confident that was no
longer true. If she lived up to her reputation, I knew we could have a
lot of fun.
I felt within myself a renewed appreciation and joy for the holiday that
had become tedious. Something I'd not experienced since I was a young
elf of just a few hundred years. Steeped in tradition, the elders would
have their misgivings, but I knew where I could find a few more bottles
of the Aphrodite formula. One way or another they would come around to
our way of thinking. I licked my lips at the prospect and smiled.
Christmas was about to become a whole lot sexier.
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