Jingle Bells

Chapter 1 - The Bell Tolls For Thee

Cynthia sat at the kitchen table, her hand on her forehead as she looked down at the laptop, her banking site open with the vile red numbers seeming to throb on screen. Beside the laptop was a stack of paper, the top one was the electricity bill, her name on it and a giant red "OVERDUE" stamped across it. She let out a sigh and went back to her calendar, her next paycheck wasn't due until the new year now and there were bills and rent to pay before it arrived.

She clicked open a new tab and double-checked the credit card balance, it provided no relief as she scrolled back through the last few transactions that her daughter Miranda had charged to it.

Cynthia still couldn't quite figure out where she'd gone wrong raising Miranda, she'd done everything she could to keep the girl on the straight and narrow, but somewhere along the line she'd lost the connection to her. Now they were little more than roommates, and ones that fought at that.

Her computer binged as an e-mail arrived and her eyes darted to the notification, "Attn: Cynthia Bell - Overdu?".

"Ohhhhhh?" she let out in a moan as she let her head gently lower down and then tapped her forehead against the hard linoleum covered chipboard of the table.

Just then Miranda waddled into the kitchen, her normal frown quickly curled upwards into a smile at the sight of her mother's troubles. Without saying a word Miranda just walked over to the fridge, grabbed a beer and wandered out of the kitchen once more.

Cynthia just shook her head, ever since she'd become legal drinking age she hadn't even tried to hide her near alcoholism from her mother. She shook her head to dislodge the dark thoughts that tried to encroach and turned back to her computer, to fight the hopeless battle a little longer.

* * *

"Really Mom? I thought we were broke?" Miranda whined as Cynthia set the plate of cookies down before the glass of milk.

Cynthia rolled her eyes, "It's tradition?" she started to reply.

"Yeah, for a two-year-old! I'm 19 mother, I can fucking drink." Miranda said, as she shook the half-empty beer bottle in her hand.

"Oh don't I know it?" Cynthia said aloud in a sarcastic tone before she could bite her tongue and she winced a little once the words were out.

Cynthia stood upright and pushed some stray strands of short blonde hair from her face and over her ear, "It's not like I'm doing it for you dear." she managed to get out without it being too obvious she was lying.

"Umph? not like you've ever done anything for me." Miranda shot back.

Cynthia was tired, she'd had to work a double shift at the diner, on Christmas eve, to try and make enough money so they didn't get evicted, and all Miranda could do was shoot venom toward her.

"Well be that as it may, have you had any luck getting a job?" Cynthia asked, knowing full well the answer.

"No." Miranda shot back in an exasperated tone, as if the world owned her one, "No one will accept me for who I am, they all want me to dress a certain way, or be able to lift a certain amount. As if?"

Cynthia tried to keep her head still, to not swing it from side to side, but only half succeeded. Her daughter dressed like a high school goth girl and refused to change even in the slightest to get a job.

"Well, you're going to have to find something soon. I can't keep working doubles to try and make rent, we'll either have to move somewhere cheaper or I'll have to find a roommate?"

Miranda glared at her mother, the implied threat was that Cynthia would have to kick her out as the small apartment they lived in only had two bedrooms, the small living room they were in and a kitchen.

"Whatever? I'm going to bed. Good luck with the milk and cookies?" Miranda replied and then stomped off down the hallway that lead to the bedrooms.

Cynthia took a deep breath and sat down on the couch for a moment. She closed her eyes and thought back to all those years ago when Miranda was small and the fun that they'd had during Christmas eve together.

She opened her eyes and looked at the Christmas tree, artificial as it was and showing its age with a few missing branches and several burned-out bulbs. The ornaments were old and faded, but they were sentimental and she wouldn't have it any other way. Then she glanced past the stockings hung in front of the TV to the string of Christmas cards that hung above it.

Chapter 2 - Sleigh Bells Ringing

Nick stood on the rooftop, one foot up on his red sleigh, as the reindeer shuffled anxiously in place. It had served him well, though it looked a little worse for wear these days. The pain was starting to chip, with the bare wood showing through in a few places, the green fabric of the seats and upholstery were ragged and had a few holes worn in them from his ass.

He stroked his short grey beard as the bells on the deer softly chimed against the backdrop of the city that held his attention. Sirens were blaring, he could hear gunshots ring out in the distance, and a cold shiver ran through him. The world had gone to hell in a hand basket in the last few hundred years and he knew it only too well. But the pace of the decline in the last decade or two surprised even him.

Three years ago, on his last visit to this very city, he'd run into the cops. Those trigger-happy goons had put three bullets in his chest and another right between his eyes. The memory of Prancer and Vixen trotting around the squad cars, the cops impaled on their antlers, still brought a smile to his face.

Being immortal had its upsides, but one of them wasn't an immunity to pain, and those bastards got what was coming to them, and it hadn't been a lump of coal.

A smirk cross his lips as he reached into the pocket of his red and white jacket and pulled out his list, the magic scroll unravelled to reveal two names at the top of it, one on the Naughty list and one on the Nice list, Cynthia Bell and Miranda Bell.

Below were more details, including a woodcut-looking image of each. It was the images that had drawn his attention to the two of them in the first place, well that and the opportunity they represented. Cynthia was the mother, only 39 years old, whereas Miranda was her daughter at 19.

Nick heard Dasher snort and he looked over to see the deer prance in place, the strong animal was like off of them that towed his sleigh, prideful and impatient. They wanted to fly, to soar through the night sky, and buzz a few aircraft along the way.

"Hold your horses boy, we're not going anywhere for a little bit." he replied with a little chuckle, buzzing aircraft was a lot of fun he had to admit. His voice seemed to settle Dasher down and he closed up the scroll and put it away.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a woman scream and it reminded him of his wife's shrill voice.

This time a shutter passed over him thinking of Merry, his wife. The old battle axe had really frosted over in the last half millennium. Oh, she was still a stunner, those tits of hers stood proudly at attention for all the elfs to see.

He cursed the small creatures that lived with them at the North Pole, sure they were useful, but damn were their minds dirty, and their mouths were even more foul.

The worst was Fucwutz, the head elf, Nick was sure that bastard was getting more of Merry's pussy than he was. Though Nick couldn't rule out that Merry was getting it from multiple of the elfs, probably at the same time.

Nick took his foot off of the sleigh and turned towards the entrance at the top of the apartment building he'd landed on. It was locked, and there was no chimney, but that didn't matter.

Honestly, he didn't even really need to visit any house himself, the magic seemed to take care of the details all by itself. Only when the scroll brought something interesting to his attention did he make a personal visit these days.

With a devious twinkle in his eye he pressed his white-gloved hand against his nose and the magic swiftly took him to his destination.

Chapter 3 - Milk and Cookies

Nick appeared in the apartment, right in the middle of the living room, the tree decorated and looking kind of sad just off to the side of the TV. The apartment was small, but was well enough decorated, though he could tell none of the decorations were new. A small plate of cookies and a glass of milk sat out on the coffee table.

He gave a chuckle and shook his head from side to side, he had no idea why the milk and cookies were required for the magic to bring him into a home, but it was. Perhaps it was some kind of invitation thing, like a vampire or something.

He rolled his eyes, he was glad the humans had wiped those bastards out, they were always trying to suck him dry when he tried to deliver their lumps of coal. He'd taken out hundreds of them over the years, but they just had kept coming back. Fortunately, humans seemed to be blessed with the gift of killing, which he hadn't delivered to them.

He reached down and took a nibble from one of the cookies, which was tasty but store-bought, and a sip of the milk, which was still cool but not cold. It was a compulsion of some kind, the need to at least sample the gift that was offered to him, so he was grateful that it wasn't inedible like it so often was.

Cynthia had put them out, like she did every year, more from a sense of nostalgia than anything else, he was sure. Trying to recapture an earlier time when she and Miranda had a better relationship, but the reason didn't really matter though, just that she did it was all that he needed.

However, the requirement to have them certainly limited the number of homes with only adults in it that he could visit, not many people put out milk and cookies for Santa without children in the home.

He pulled off his cap and gloves, tossed his jacket and sack on a chair and then plopped down on the couch, his significant weight causing it to groan. At six foot three, and packing significant muscle, and only an ounce or two of fat, Nick looked little like the rose-coloured paintings the world imagined him to be.

It wasn't like there was much to do up at the North Pole in the off-season, so he spent most of his time staying in shape and working off the pounds he'd put on Christmas eve. This was only the first of many stops he'd make, and even just nibbling on those damn cookies did a real number on his waistline.

Picking up the remote he turned the TV on and brought up the menu, "Shit!" he said aloud, not worried about the sleeping women in the other rooms. The magic would keep them blissfully unaware of his presence until it was time. He also wasn't worried about the time he spent, the magic handled that as well, no matter how long he took at each home he always had more than enough time to get his work done.

What did concern him was that they didn't have HBO, he was still only on season three of Game of Thrones and he was hoping to get through another season tonight. He pushed the power button and tossed the remote onto the coffee table and just leaned back and relaxed for a moment.

He took in a deep breath and then stood up and turned towards the bedroom hallway, he grabbed his sack and closed his eyes for a moment. In his mind he fixed on Cynthia and he could "feel" her sleeping in the bedroom to his left. Then he reached into the sack and pulled out a gift-wrapped box.

It was about 12 inches long, thin and mostly flat, without much weight to it. It wasn't a present for her, at least not entirely, but for him. The sack could produce any object that he could think of, as long as it was gift-wrapped and counted as a gift of some kind.

He quickly unwrapped it and clutched it in his hand as he headed into Cynthia's room where she slept blissfully and soundly.

Chapter 4 - Ringing a Bell

Nick looked down at Cynthia in her bed, the bedroom was pretty plain, with only the bed and a couple of nightstands on each side of it. He could see the soft glow of her phone charging on the nightstand, along with a photo of a much younger Miranda, with just enough light shining in the window for him to be able to see everything clearly.

He smiled, the image on the scroll hadn't done her justice in the least. Her short blonde hair framed the sleek features of her face, she was truly beautiful. Better than he had hoped for.

Cynthia had been a single mother since Miranda was born, and struggled to make ends meet. But she'd done everything for her daughter and sacrificed much, including any kind of intimate relationship with another adult. Exactly the kind of things that the list showed him and ensured they had a place the Nice list.

Gently taking the present between his two hands and stretching it out, he leaned over and gently lowered it down to her neck and let it lay across her soft skin. It quickly snaked around behind her neck and clasped shut.

Nick stood upright and looked down at the diamond-encrusted choker that wrapped around her neck, it spelled out "BIMBO" from the design of the jewels.

Cynthia gasped and her brown eyes popped open as the magic of the present got to work. The sheets flew from her body, tossed to the side by the magic and she didn't even notice Nick standing there.

For 38 she was in good shape, a few extra pounds around the waist, her breasts a little saggy, but overall in terrific shape for having been a single mother for so many years. The only blemish of note on her skin was the vertical slit where the c-section had been performed for Miranda's arrival.

Nick watched as the scar started to fade, the pounds disappear, her breast firm up and expand. His gaze rose up to her face and he watched her skin tighten, her lips puff up, and her hair lengthen, but little else changed there. When he looked back down her body, she'd gone from a small C cup to at least a DD and he could see them still growing.

But they weren't just growing, they were changing shape, becoming more round and higher up on her chest. The effect was heightened by the shrinkage in her waist, which no longer showed any signs of having a scare of any kind.

She let out a moan as her hands started to roam around her body, until she twitched, then gasped and arched her back before collapsing back onto the bed. Nick smiled as Cynthia blinked several times and then sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed and then looked up at him.

"Like, Santa?" She asked, a smile forming in front of her perfect, bright white teeth.

Nick nodded and she giggled, "Oh my gawd, like, did you bring Cindi a present?"

Nick undid his pants, pushing his suspenders over his shoulders and letting them fall to the ground, his stiff shaft bobbing up and down as they passed by it and Cindi's head nodded up and down in time with it's oscillation, her gaze transfixed on it.

"Like, *best*, *present*, *ever*! *giggle*" Cindi said and then softly wrapped her plump lips around it and her fingers tracked down the length of it to find his balls.

He watched the mass of blonde hair move back and forth as she sucked him deep into her mouth, and listened to the sound of her slurping as she played with his balls and one of her own breasts. She went all the way down his shaft until he could feel her nose against the white hair of his abdomen, before opening her mouth and getting her tongue to stick out.

She pulled back quickly, then slammed down again, her tongue running along the length of his shaft both ways. She repeated it several times, then wrapped her lips firmly around him and pulled back to the tip of his shaft. She tilted her head back so she could look up at him, her sparkling blue eyes reflecting almost as much light as the choker that was wrapped around her neck.

She popped off of him and giggled again, then used her hands to wrap her giant breasts around him, "Like, I've got the perfect ornaments on my tree for you Santa! *giggle*"

Nick reached down and took hold of her breasts, freeing Cindi's hands to dive between her legs. He squeezed them hard together, the obvious silicone implants still soft and supple, but not quite as much as natural flesh would have been.

She bounced up and down on the bed, letting him effectively titty fuck her. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and smiled up at him, "Oh god Santa! You're so big it's easy to hang my ornaments on your tree!"

Nick smiled down at her, "I do love a nice set of ornaments Cindi."

Cindi giggled and cooed, eager to play with her present.

Nick stepped forward, forcing Cindi to fall backwards onto the bed, his dick slipping from between her breasts and causing Cindi to squeal. She gleefully spread her legs, her fingers still playing with her clit, she spread her pussy wide and let him slide right into her.

"Yes Santa! Yes! Give me my present! *giggle* I need my present! Give it all to me!" she cried out as Nick slipped deeper and deeper into her.

Her whole body shivered and shook as he did so, he reached up and took hold of her breasts and squeezed them again, then took hold of her nipples and gave them a twist.

Her ability to speak words left her, grunts and moans and squeals came from between her lips as he continued to slide in and out of her. She took a death grip on the bed sheets, curling her hands into fists as she tried to drive him even deeper inside of her with each thrust. It was only when he came inside of her that her voice cried out in pure bliss as her back arched and her body twitched as he delivered his second present to her.

Chapter 5 - Hell's Bells

Nick grabbed his pants and pulled them on, looping the suspenders over his shoulders, leaving Cindi laid out on her bed in giddy satisfaction as she hugged herself contently. As her choker sparkled in the dim light that shone through the bedroom window, he knew she would no longer have any issues finding a relationship with any number of men, and this was his real gift to her.

He walked around the bed and out into the hallway, looking across it to Miranda's room, but turned back towards the living room instead. He arrived at there moments later with a satisfied smile on his face. Mrs. Claus didn't scream like that, not even back when they were still having sex more than once a decade.

It was one of the only reasons he even bothered to deliver presents anymore. He had once been a man, a human being, just like she had, and they both still had needs? hers were obviously being taken care of, but he had to wait an entire year to satisfy himself.

If he could help out someone on the Nice list like Cynthia, even if they technically weren't a child anymore, well that was a bonus he was happy to give.

He walked over to his sack and once more closed his eyes, focusing this time on Miranda, then pulling a similar box from it. He unwrapped it like Cindi's and this time a wicked smile crossed his lips. Of course being able to deliver a bit of justice to someone on the Naughty list was just as good, if not better.

* * *

Nick looked down at Miranda much as he had with Cynthia, but unlike her mother's room, Miranda's was plastered in posters of goth bands and animated characters. The furniture was painted dark and her room was a mess of black lace and black t-shirts with band names on them. In Miranda's case, as much as the woodcut hadn't done Cynthia justice, it hadn't captured Miranda in a different way.

Miranda's short jet black hair was obviously dyed and the sides buzz cut, traces of black makeup were still on her lips, and her ears were full of plugs and piercings, along with her lips, nose and eyebrow. Her girth strained the bed that she slept in and he could see several tattoos on her arms and neck as well. Her left arm had a full sleeve of gothic symbols, her right a large ornate cross on the upper part of it. There were smaller ones on her neck and one between her breasts.

He could understand why she was on the naughty list, the catalog of fights against her mother that were on the list stretched back to when she was young. She seemed to do the opposite of everything her mother told her to time after time. She'd even thrown up roadblocks at every turn when her mother had tried to improve either of their lives.