Sleighless

Sleighless

Nick followed a halogen-lit passageway to the converted warehouse that housed Project Sleighless — the top secret state-of-the-art teleportation project that would be going live this Christmas Eve. He pushed open a set of double doors with both arms and entered the vast domed interior. The sterile chamber was dimly lit: the walls were metallic with chilly climate-controlled air flowing through the room.

He stepped to the target on the center of the floor. Above it hung an ominous gun-like fixture as wide as an artillery cannon on a battleship. It pointed directly at him, a ring of light around its lip glowed a faint sky blue. Already warming up it hummed, echoing through the chamber and enveloping his body in a pleasurable vibration that resonated in every follicle of his body.

A trebled voice shot through his earpiece. "Are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." He winked toward the control room window.

Two elves seated in red leather chairs operated the controls: Tinsel, who fidgeted nervously as she sipped her third cup of coffee poured from a giant thermos, and Byron — the mastermind of Project Sleighless — who was twisting dials and performing last-minute tests on all vital systems. It would be a long night.

"Well, you're in for a smooth ride. Everything is looking great from up here," Byron said confidently. "Get ready to make history. Estimated launch time in three minutes. Do you have everything? Your magic sack?"

Santa lifted the bag high. "Got it!"

"Got some snacks for the ride?" Tinsel chimed in.

"I packed light. Cookies will be waiting for me."

"Your jumpsuit looks amazing, by the way."

"Thanks, cute stuff."

She forced a giggle and whispered to Byron. "This better work."

"I know. As long as he doesn't turn into a ham sandwich on re-entry I'll be happy."

Santa scowled. "I can hear you bastards."

Byron laughed nervously. "Th-this will go off without a hitch, sir. Hold tight, I'm doing a final energy check." Byron muted the control mic. Tinsel punched Byron hard in the shoulder.

Tinsel finished the briefing. "Remember to keep your earpiece in your ear. Without it, we can't teleport you. You have some spares in your sack."

Nick waited. He did his best to clear his mind, focusing on the vibration that surrounded him, becoming one with it. Months of tests had gone well without a hitch. The day before, the elves from the health and safety department had rated the system as "safer than a transatlantic flight." All was well.

Engage

Byron's voice finally interrupted his concentration through his earpiece. "We're ready to go. Are you?"

"Yes. I'm ready."

"Excellent. Commencing Project Sleighless. Launching in 60 seconds. First drop will be the Thompson family house in Auckland, New Zealand. You will re-appear on a box gable roof. There is a brick chimney with standard access."

"Got it. Let's go." Byron turned off the bypass switch. Immediately the chamber was washed in an eerie blue light; the vibration intensified until Nick could feel it in his skull between his ears. The hairs on his arms stood at attention.

"Forty-five seconds." Byron looked at Santa's vital readings. "Sir, don't hold your breath. We need you to breathe normally."

Santa took a deep breath and exhaled. Breathe normally.

"Thirty seconds."

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! Tinsel was losing her shit. She rubbed her temples. Her palms were sweaty.

"Twenty seconds. Secure your sack."

Nick lifted his magic sack and pulled it tightly to his chest in both arms.

"Good." Byron flipped the plastic cover that protected the cherry-red Engage button.

"Ten seconds." Byron began the countdown.

"Nine..."

Tinsel covered her eyes. She couldn't look... then she reconsidered. She spread her fingers and gazed through the cracks between them.

"Eight... Seven..."

"I love you guys. I'm so proud of what we've accomplished." Nick said.

"Six... Five..."

"I love you too, sir!" Tinsel cried. "Godspeed!"

"Four... Three..."

"Thanks cute stuff." Nick winked.

"Two."

Tinsel smiled. Byron seemed ready, relaxed. She felt relieved.

"One!"

Nick shut his eyes.

Byron pressed the red button hard.

The room went dark, and then illuminated in an explosion of electric blue light. Waves of light poured from the cannon above Santa's head, swirling around him; he felt the warm embrace of time and space.

BOOM

"What was that?" Byron stood up and peered into the chamber. From the opposite side of the room a beam of white light added itself to the blue light of the chamber. The emergency exit. Flung open.

"Those doors were supposed to be locked!" Tinsel yelled.

A brown figure raced from the rectangle of white light towards the center of the room.

Nick opened his eyes.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," Byron mumbled.

"What's the problem?" Nick's voice crackled back. He turned to the open doors. "Santa! What are you doing?!" said the brown figure bounding ever closer.

"V-Vixen?"

"Santa! It's so pretty in here! Are we going to have a dance party?" She reached him in a final bounce, standing on her hind legs and throwing her front legs around his neck to hug him.

"Vixen! No!" Nick yelled, trying to push her away.

"Shut it down!" Tinsel screamed. "Shut it down!"

Byron leapt across the control board to pull the kill switch, catching one final glance at the two figures beneath the teleporter before the room exploded in a flash of light.

They were gone.

WTF

A triangle of white light stretched into the dark chamber from the emergency exit. Snowflakes poured in from outside.

"What the fuck just happened?" Tinsel shouted as she stared at the empty target. "What the FUCK just happened, Byron?"

Byron sat stunned while staring at the empty target in the chamber.

"Was that a reindeer?" she asked as she rubbed her eyes. "Byron! Was that a reindeer?"

"Yes. That was a reindeer."

They sat silently.

"I mean, it's probably okay," Byron said. "I mean, I think it's okay. I mean, like... we need to test sending two travelers at once to see if it's okay... but this is probably okay."

Tinsel wanted to strangle him. "This isn't a fucking test, Byron! This is real. This is real!" She slammed her fists on the armrests of her chair.

"Calm down! We have twenty seconds before his vitals show up and we can communicate, so it should be completely fine... we're okay." He repeated it again, praying it would be true. "We're okay."

Vital Signs

Max Flow quietly ate his dinner in the lavish dining room of his yacht; a lone figure seated at the head of a long candlelit table.

Max had never spent Christmas alone. Usually he invited a model or a secretary to occupy his time. More correctly, to occupy their time... and their bodies. He considered it, along with his business expertise, his gift to his world; a gift he gave one model at a time — or three or four, depending on the circumstances. Orgasm after multiple orgasm he had left a trail of drooling, satisfied women behind him.

But now he was alone. Paranoid. And worse, he knew deep down he was souring on the inanity of models. He wanted something more; someone he could dominate fully and who would explore with him all the undiscovered edges of human sexuality and beyond, but also someone who would still be around the next morning to chat over breakfast and a cup of coffee. He knew he had to find this creature. He imagined her smiling. Lighting up his mornings. And he imagined flipping her over and plowing her over his dining room table as thanks. Instead, he sat alone chewing through his food and his worried thoughts.

Max had also never decorated for Christmas, usually leaving this to whatever hotel or coordinator was taking care of his stay. However, this year he wasn't taking any chances. He had given his staff strict instructions to decorate the yacht. "Deck the decks," as he had put it.

Lights were strung across the entirety of the vessel and a giant Christmas tree was placed in the living room outside his quarters. It was decorated in white lights, silver ornaments, and red ribbons. Beneath it, he personally placed a small table with a plate and glass, instructing the help to put out milk and cookies when he had retired for the evening.

Max finished his dinner and motioned to a servant. "Tell the captain to head for open water and wait for further instructions." The servant nodded and rushed off to deliver the order.

Max walked the long corridor back to his quarters. Once inside, he strolled to the far side of the room and retrieved an assault rifle from the gun cabinet in his closet. He checked the chamber and pushed in a magazine. Locked and loaded.

Rifle in hand, he lunged onto the pillows of his giant canopy bed and pointed a remote across the room to turn on his flat screen television.

The Big Metal Boob

"Hey, C.C.! The Christmas party is starting down at the barn. Are you coming?"

Candy Cane had reined himself to a weighted practice sleigh and was pulling it back and forth across the snowy grounds of the complex. He stopped and looked behind him. It was Donner.

"I'm kind of busy."

"Yeah, I can see that," Donner said as he examined the sleigh. "But why? We're retired."

Candy Cane snorted at the word. "Retired." He scowled and searched Donner's eyes but it was clear Donner had already adjusted to the idea of lounging around for the rest of his life. Candy Cane found it to be ridiculous; what good was a party without a reason to celebrate? Donner knew as well as any of them that they should be driving tonight but Candy Cane knew it was futile trying to explain the obvious.

"I just don't feel very social tonight."

"Suit yourself, bucko. I'm getting laid tonight," said Donner with a wink.

Candy Cane held his antlers high and glared back at him silently. Donner backed away slowly.

"So, uh, before I go... have you seen Vixen?"

"No."

"I was playing hide and seek with her a minute ago but I seemed to have lost track of her scent over near the perimeter fence around the Big Metal Boob."

Candy Cane looked through Donner's antlers toward the great metallic dome that rose between the snowy hills that lined the outskirts of the complex. The building was barely discernable through the harsh torrent of snow.

"Weird," Candy Cane said. "That building gives me the creeps."

"Yeah, me too," Donner replied as he looked over his shoulder. "But at least it looks like a giant boob."

They watched as their view of the building was washed away by a gust of white. The blizzard was picking up.

Treading Water in the In-between

Nick materialized in the dark silence of time and space and floated there. The feelings coursing through his body alternated between pure joy and utter panic.

He clutched his magic sack tightly to his belly and tried to remember the moments leading up to the great tornado of skin, red fabric, jingle bells, and fur that was his teleportation jump. His memories came to him like beams of light shining through shards of broken glass: disordered, abstracted, and fragmented.

What happened? He concentrated and a memory rushed into his mind.

He clearly remembered playing hide-and-seek in the snow. Donner was "it" and had begun counting down from 50 behind a snow bank as he bounded away toward the edge of the complex, making no effort to hide his tracks. In heat and dripping wet: the perfect spot for Donner to find him.

He pushed his antlers under the loose perimeter fence surrounding the restricted zone and lifted his head and in an instant the snowy landscape washed away, revealing a dark, candlelit room and Mrs. Claus's plump body — gift wrapped in red lingerie — lying in the middle of a bed. She smiled, spread her creamy thighs wide and pulled her soaked red panties to the side with a plump finger.

"Come and get me."

Her breasts were huge. The pale, round orbs overfilled her bra and her pink nipples peaked delightfully over the cups. He recalled the giant boobs curiously.

Breasts are so weird, he thought.

All the reindeer found breasts to be strange and fascinating. Vixen often wondered what it would be like to have two breasts swinging below her instead of her little udder, if you could even call it that. Whenever Mrs. Claus would stop by the reindeer camp to read them stories, Vixen would stare longingly (and jealously) at Mrs. Claus's cleavage. This unexpected memory of Mrs. Claus exposing herself so brazenly to her made Vixen feel funny inside. She blushed. She could feel something swelling in the crotch of the red jumpsuit she was trapped in.

Wait. Wait...what?

Santa rubbed his temples.

What the hell am I thinking?

He was blushing. His dick continued to fill with blood.

Situation Normal...

A voice came through the static of Santa's earpiece, startling him halfway back to reality.

"St. Nick, Do you copy?"

He recognized the voice. It was Byron, his voice growing more and more panicked as he repeated the phrase. Nick heard Tinsel faintly in the background chanting "ohmygodplease" over and over.

"St. Nick! Do you copy?"

His head ached. The harsh voices in his earpiece were an unwelcome addition to the noise in his brain.

"Yes, I copy."

Tinsel leapt from her chair in the control room and wrapped her arms around Byron's neck and kissed him repeatedly on the cheek. "Oh, thank Jack Frost! He's alive! Yes!"

Byron cast an annoyed glance her way but didn't bother to stop her assault. With Tinsel locked around his neck, Byron struggled to speak into the microphone.

"Can you do me a favor and look around for Vixen?"

Nick sat for a moment with a blank expression. He knew it was good practice to follow the elves instructions even if the request seemed strange. Sometimes they would give you treats if you did a really good job. Look for Vixen. He shrugged, and began to look for Vixen, even though it was completely ridiculous to look for oneself.

His feigned search was immediately interrupted by a jingle around his neck. He turned back to grope at the object, failing to notice a growing indention pulling his suit tighter as it grew outward from the base of his spine.

The object encircling his neck was a loop of thick leather latched with a buckle. Its circumference was lined with large metal bells. He shook it and it jingled loudly beneath his chin.

He knew what it was. He called into the darkness.

"Byron! I think I found her collar!"

"Where is it?"

"Around my neck."

Tinsel's grip around Byron's neck loosened into a hang. They turned and looked at each other curiously.

Nick continued jingling the collar playfully. He never remembered being able to reach it and he wagged his tail happily. The sensation of his new vertebrae, sweeping back and forth above his ass, reverberated through his pelvis and into his cock pleasurably. He wagged faster.

He came almost immediately.

The spasms were intense, twice as fast as normal, as his dick frantically fired glob after glob of cum into the crotch of his tight red jumpsuit. And it didn't stop. Having just fucked Mrs. Claus, Nick was surprised by the large puddle of cum that was building around his balls. As if trying to accommodate it, his pelvic bone pushed outward and cum flooded into the gap created between his thighs as they were pushed farther apart. His suit, strained into an hourglass by his widening hips, ripped below the small of his back, and a fluffy reindeer tail burst from the tear and into the darkness.

He moaned.

"Is everything okay?" Tinsel chirped in his earpiece.

Still taken in orgasm, Nick blushed and, biting his lip, said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Everything is fine! Ho ho ho!"

His tail wagged in agreement.

Byron breathed a sigh of relief and toggled the microphone off.

"Well, he certainly sounds like his old merry self," said Byron. "A little out of it but merry all the same. Let's get the first drop-point dialed up." He began pulling switches and rechecking the drop coordinates.

Tinsel balked, falling back to her chair. "But what about Vixen?"

Byron shrugged. "Probably vaporized. A damn shame, too. But she will be an honorable casualty in the annals of science. Kinda like Laika, but with antlers."

Tinsel's bottom lip began to tremble. "You mean she's..."

Byron shot her a quick glance as he adjusted the drop coordinates. He nodded quickly and turned back to the controls. He switched on the mic and spoke into it. "Hold tight for a second, Nick. I'm scanning the LZ."

A shaky hand reached across the console and shut off the mic. Tinsel glared at Byron. Tears were welling in her eyes.

"Vixen is... Vixen is..."

Byron swiveled on his chair to face her and crossed his arms. "I don't know where the fuck Vixen is, Tinsel!" He flicked the mic back on. "Santa, do you see Vixen?" said Byron. He over-annunciated each word into the mic as he glared at Tinsel.

"...mmm! Nope."

Byron switched off the mic and feigned a grin. "See, Tinsel? No Vixen."

"Yeah, I get it, asshole," Tinsel scowled. "But she has to be somewhere right? Maybe she's made the jump already. Maybe she's waiting on the roof. That would be nice and a whole lot better than being vaporized."

"Yes, that would be nice... nice and highly unlikely. The first run tonight wasn't a direct jump for a reason. We all agreed we would suspend Santa in space-time for a quick vitals check before dropping him on the first roof. If she isn't with him, then she's either been vaporized or she's..." Byron trailed off. The blood drained from his face until he was as whiter than the blizzard raging outside.

"Oh. Shit."

"What? What!" Tinsel grabbed Byron by his collar. "Tell me, dammit!" Tinsel shook Byron frantically but his body went limp, paralyzed by his realization.

A loud slurping sound shot through the control room speakers.

Byron and Tinsel froze in a start. They listened. All was quiet.

Then a long, deep moan reverberated through the control room speakers.

...All Fucked Up

Nick's balls snatched into his pelvis with such a jolt that the resulting suction slurped the entire puddle of cum in his jumpsuit inside of him. He moaned, basking in the new sensation. The hot, sticky fluid lingered in his tight new cave as his balls continued their ascent. The fullness within was too much. He squeezed his pelvic muscles. His tail stiffened and a thick glob of cum pushed out of him.

But his body was not having any of this. He would be filled one way or the other.

As he went to push again, his dick trembled at its base and then — in one quick thrust — the length of it plunged into him completely, leaving nothing behind but the prominent outline of a camel toe accented in his tight jumpsuit.

He screamed in pleasure. His vocal cords snatched tight, quickly tuning it into a high shriek of unbridled pleasure.

Tinsel covered her ears and crumbled to the floor. "Oh god! He's dying! He's dying!"

But he wasn't dying. Nick writhed there in the nothingness, flailing his arms in every direction in a futile attempt to find something to cling to so he could ride out the assault of his own dick spreading him wide in pleasure. His body hair fell out from his follicles and the hair on his head began to grow platinum blonde.

He flexed his pelvic muscles in a vain attempt to push the thick cock out of him. But it was no use. All he could feel was the snaking veins of his unrelenting cock as they pulsated with each beat of his heart against the deepening walls within him. Its presence quickly became intoxicating. Every squeeze of his muscles made him more aware of how it filled him so perfectly, until the only reason he longed for it to be pulled out of him was so it could be plunged into him again. And again. And again.