Fur and Bones
Nick could feel them emerging from the new openings in his head; they grew out of them quickly, stretching his skin wide and branching into the air above him.
He knew what they were.
Byron's words lay fresh on his mind. It all made sense. Just like his cock, Vixen had invaded him. Clouded his mind. Taken his dick and gave him an empty feeling in his pelvis to replace it. And now she weighed heavy on his head. Like all sleigh drivers she always had a big rack.
He reached his delicate hands to the hard extensions of his skull. Their covering was soft. Velvety. He followed them down to his head and wrapped his hands around them like handlebars. He held on and relaxed his arms, feeling their weight added to the growth of bone. They were strong. Nick's tall frame receded rapidly to contribute to their birth.
"Oh fuck... my feet..."
His headache lifted to be replaced by a pleasurable crackling in his toes. It sounded like a fire had been set beneath him. He held onto his antlers tightly as the joints in his feet seized together into four distinct segments. He moaned and kicked his boots off into the vortex around him. They floated away to be lost forever as black boney masses stretched and then tore through his striped Christmas socks.
Soft brown hair grew from his heels, up the length of his leg, and over his toes. The coat of hair stopped in a line encircling his mid thigh, replacing his socks with stockings of chestnut fur. It was the same color as the fur growing from the edges of his ears. They lengthened, poking out cutely from his platinum tresses.
Her
Nick's nails were now as long as Emma's – if not longer. He could feel them pushing from their beds as they grew over his fingertips. Lovely long black nails. A compromise. A result of the genetic upheaval within.
Back at the North Pole, in their bedroom, Mrs. Claus lay on a mountain of pillows. She had taken her stockings off. Ringlets of strawberry blonde hair fell around her shoulders and over her ample cleavage. Emma had just painted the nails of her hands and feet and was waiting with palms outstretched and toes wiggling as they finished drying.
---
Nick dropped a hand from around his antlers to his crotch, and settled his middle finger into the divot between his pussy lips just in time to feel his labia bloom slightly from his tight new crevice. He pressed his finger harder into the indentation. He could make out a familiar bud of sensitive flesh throbbing beneath it.
I have no dick.
He caressed his pussy and let it sink in.
I. have. no. dick.
But he didn't need to touch himself to know his dick was gone. Its absence resonated in every part of him. I have no dick. I have no dick inside of me. He moved his finger over the crotch of his suit. It would need to come off soon.
His muffled moans resonated deep in the egg-filled chambers of his ovaries and in the darkness of his new womb.
---
In their bedroom, Emma removed the cotton balls from between her toes. Her nails were dry. She held her hands down in front of her and admired her fingernails – perfect for wrapping around Nick's cock when he returned. Or digging into his back.
Nick brought his lithe hands to his face, admiring his nails. Not for their beauty but for their utility.
His suit was constricting his thighs and buttocks, hugging them firmly, but his suit wasn't to blame. Primed by the estrogen flooding in his body from his new ovaries, his subcutaneous fat began a great migration, abandoning his belly to fill his ass, hips and thighs. New curves swelled within his suit, straining the fabric, pulling the threads apart and exposing the tight skin beneath.
The fabric around his legs gave way first. Great tears formed in the thighs of the jumpsuit and his flesh billowed out of them seductively. He sighed, grateful for the release of pressure. But the relief was short lived.
Around his middle, his suit was refusing to surrender to the onslaught of his expanding ass, imprisoning the masses of bulging flesh as they grew outward. His swelling cheeks stretched the fabric uncomfortably around his crotch. The vice tightened and his pussy lips pressed together. He could feel his heart beating between them. His tail stiffened.
Nick rushed his hands behind him, slapping his palms down firmly to grip a cheek in each before digging his fingers into the fabric of his suit. He clawed at the fabric with his long nails, desperate to penetrate it. Finally a nail punctured through, and then a second nail. He kept slashing until ten tiny tears were cut into the suit. His ass swelled. Threads gave way. The small tears lengthened.
He curled his fingers into the holes and pulled, being careful not to break his nails. The fabric tore. He grunted and pulled again. There was a loud ripping sound as his ass finally bounced free into the cold air behind him, his bulbous cheeks simultaneously jiggling like bowls full of jelly. It fell still, its cheeks full and tight, a significant curve to his tiny frame. He moaned a sigh of relief and ran the tips of his long black nails over his new booty.
---
Emma slid from their bed and walked to her boudoir mirror. She didn't know it yet, but she was a good five inches taller than her husband, and in moments he would have a monthly cycle — and it would be in sync with hers.
In the shallows of Nick's pussy the head of his penis had softened and settled in as the gatekeeper of his sex. His cervix. It was flushed and wet and at its center, the hole — through which he had fired load after load of semen into Emma before — opened, ready to accept a payload from the next invading cock to grace his entrance. A flood of sticky feminine juices poured from his womb and through the tender opening, intermingling with the remaining semen within his vagina before seeping out of his swollen pussy lips.
Nick's senses intensified. He could hear Byron fidgeting in his chair and Tinsel on the floor of the control room repeating her ohmygod's over and over. He could smell the sweet bouquet of his new pussy. His long eyelashes flicked open. The spectrum of his vision had widened. Pristine waves of ultraviolet light, once invisible, came pouring into view. Every sensation was beautiful and new. The fog lifted from his mind.
