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“Oh, Nick!” You could hear your mother's laughter floating up the stairs along with a couple of odd sounding grunts.

There was a loud scuffle, and what sounded like a moan. But this time there was no mistaking the man’s deep booming voice. “Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!”

Your head shot up, and with another laugh you heard your mom frantically try to shush the man. It was a little too late though, considering your interested had already been piqued. So flinging back the covers, you pulled on some flannel sleep pants and crept out of your room.

With a shake of your own head, you knew better than to sneak down and spy on your mother. Afterall, at nineteen years old you yourself were insistent that their needed to be boundaries. But there was just something about that voice. Something you needed to see for yourself.

You hadn’t been home for a few months, and much to your mother’s disappointment you’d been unable to make it around Thanksgiving either. But as far as you knew, your mother didn’t have a boyfriend. And your father? Well, you didn’t even know his name.

You continued to tiptoe down the staircase until the man in question along with your mother finally came into view. You were quite impressed with how authentic looking his Santa suit was-- a deep crimson colored satin outlined with the purest white fur. Your mother however, at only thirty-seven years young, while still sporting a firm and curvaceous body you wished she’d had on a bit more clothes. In nothing more than a lacy black bra and a matching thong, she sat in the big man’s lap moaning for more.

As he brushed one of the curls back from your mother’s pretty face, you caught a glimpse into those familiar pools of his, like steaming hot chocolate. You even let out a slight gasp as the hat finally fell from his head. A strong, squared off jaw and perfectly sculpted cheekbones, you were surprised by how handsome this Santa looked-- and young!

With his salt and pepper hair styled into the perfect fade, you found yourself snickering. Wasn’t Santa supposed to be old and fat? But this guy couldn’t have been much older than his late forties and even from here you could see  how his musculature rippled underneath that red suit.

Much to your horror you could feel your cock start to harden as the man pulled your mother in for a long, rough kiss. “Tell me darlin, have you been a good girl this year?” He asked as he finally pulled back. Your mother could only whimper in response as the man’s huge paw dove between her legs. “Then let me be your first present tonight.”

And with that Santa stood, towering over your mother as he brought her along to her feet. You could see a sparkle in his eye as he looked down at your mum longingly. Without waiting a beat she pushed the red fabric down from Santa's shoulders, already snug but now it seemed to be growing tight across his ever bulging body.

Wait, that couldn't be right. But it was. Santa was actually growing right before your eyes!

His pants grew tight as he adjusted his stance, massive quads filling them up as they fought against each other for space. As your mother gently caressed the man's growing arms, his muscles surged even more. His pecs jutted out.

“Oh-ho-yes!” Santa groaned, and with the greatest of ease he lifted your mother to his massively chiseled chest with a single gigantic arm. Santa's abs were growing more sculpted too, pushing out with not four or six but eight powerful bricks. As his quads exploded to the size of oak trees, you found yourself wondering how the material of his pants hadn't ripped.

That wasn't all that seemed to be growing as you finally spotted a red, angry prick poking out the top of Santa's waistband. Your mother, while looking positively tiny pressed against his thick, growing pecs, noticed it to as she tried to grip more of it with her hand. She seemed to struggle at first, until finally she reached beneath her and shoved down his pants. His fat cock slapped free, easily as big around as a pool noodle while his enormous, softball sized nuts dangled between mighty trees.

Your mother's moans of approval could be heard as Santa suddenly hunched forward and flexed. With all his might, the man was massive! Absolutely beyond powerful and huge. No way would he be fitting down anymore chimneys that night.

You looked down at your own pasty white arms, the muscle there resembling something more like mosquito bites. How you wished you could grow big and strong. With a moan you gripped your steely hard length. Just the thought of yourself growing bigger had it pulsing harder and longer than ever before.

As Santa laid your mother down on her back, you knew you should have fled back up to your room. But you couldn't tear your eyes away from such a magnificent sight. Looming over her on all fours, his perfectly round striated pecs hung over her face. Her lips affectionately wrapped around one of his rock hard nipples while her nails scraped the mass across his back. Lats flared so wide, his wingspan looked more like a veiny mountain range now. His thirty inch biceps creaked and bulged too.

Excitement shot through you and clearly Santa too, as he easily shredded your mother's bra with his new found strength. “Did you remember to leave out any milk and cookies?” he rumbled. He gently kneaded one of your mother's large breasts before bending forward. “Afterall, I'm a huge, growing man. And baby, I'm hungry.”

You pretty much lost it after that. Standing up and leaning against the railing as you watched Santa work over your mother's perfect tits before moving down to eat out her pussy. The staircase creaked loudly as you adjusted your stance. And you were so horny, it took both of your hands to get around your thick, growing shaft.

Your head flung back as you let out a deep, sexy moan. You looked back up in shock though, your voice was much deeper than just a moment ago. As you looked down at your cock in hand, you saw how your veiny forearms bulged with power. “Oh fuck yes. This feels so--”

“Andy?” Your mother gasped as she and Santa spotted you on the staircase. “What are you-- oh no, not you too!”

Santa stood up then and pulled your mother close. A mischievous twinkle sparkled in those eyes, the same color as your own. “That's my son,” you heard him exclaim. “And don't worry boy, Santa knows where all the naughty girls live.”


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Short, sweet, and hot :)

Thanks for the story. Are we to believe there will be 12 parts of this?? Because I'm definitely on board for that.

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7 hours ago, RosieWorships said:

It will be 12 *different* stories every few days. 😊

I love the idea, and I don't intend to be nitpicky, but I have noticed a growing trend over the world to perceive the traditional expression "the twelve days of Christmas" as referring to days before Christmas (which isn't Christmas at all, but Advent), while the traditional expression actually refer to the days between Christmas Day and Twelfthnight (the latter of Shakespearean fame). Don't American Christians celebrate Epiphany? At least the Episcopalians ought --  Prayerbook and all that.

In Sweden, we traditionally don't remove the christmas tree until the Day of St. Canute (so, unlike the English-speaking world, we have twenty days of Christmas), but that tradition is quickly fading here, too, which is a pity. Traditions are fun! More gingerbread and mulled wine to the people! I suppose mince-pies are the cultural equivalent to gingerbread snaps in your whereabouts?

This also mean, that you are not in a hurry: Finish the twelfth story on January 5th or 6th, and you are very traditional! 😁

Did wassailing survive on your side of The Pond, or is it just an English custom nowadays? Perhaps the Puritans outlawed it in the New World?

Edited by Hialmar
twenty and mince pie, wassailing
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Nope. Christmas has become quite divorced from the Christian faith, so a lot of the particulars are no longer celebrated. And since most people only get a few days off, it's less and less convenient to celebrate the entire Christmas season. Plus, Christmas is very much a commercial holiday now, so all the businesses hype up the days leading up to Christmas, then after Christmas we all switch gears to the next coming holiday.

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The little bell above the door jingled as he walked into the bakery that he hadn't visited in nearly a year. His mouth watered with the familiar scents of gingerbread and chocolate, but it wasn't the delicious treats he was after. No, his taste buds hungered for something a little more.

“How can I help y…” The smile fell from her face the moment she spun around. From behind the glass counter, he could see the way her fist clenched, so angry and full of life. “What are you doing here?” she spat.

“Dolcezza--” his lips spoke the Italian pet name he'd given her so many years ago. But her face pulled up into a frown, only seemingly angering her more.

“Don't you have somewhere else to be?” Her tone was mocking as her eyes narrowed at hin. “New life, new muscles, new girl.”

He grinned at her then, bringing his arms up in to a double bicep pose. “I begged for you to come with me,” he reminded her, grunting as he forced his arms to peak harder and higher. “And you should know by now, no one could ever replace my girl.”

She shuddered slightly under his gaze and he knew then that she was silently thanking the Maker that the store was dead on this Christmas eve. “We’re closing soon.” Her eyes lowered to the ground for a moment as she tried to regain her thoughts. “What is it that you want?”


With a snort she shook her head before moving from around the counter over to the front door. “Should have thought about that before you decided gear was more important than your daughter and I.”

He smiled to himself, knowing it would always come back to this. “I know you don't understand, dolcezza. But I needed to get huge.”

“I do understand! Hell, I kind of want that too!” She paused at the honesty behind her own words, and he could see a bright blush creeping up her neck and cheeks. “But right now we just can't afford it, especially when we have a toddler who can rival your calorie intake.”

“I know!” He snapped, answering her truthfully. “I fucked up babe, and I'm so fuckin sorry.” He grunted then, feeling a drop of sweat trickle down his brow. “I just-- I took an experimental drug and I need you-- Ungh!” Doubling over he clutched his stomach. But it wasn't pain he was experiencing.

“You did what?!”

He grinned slightly as she rushed to his side, her arms encircling his waist as she looked into his eyes. He knew deep down she still cared for him-- And soon there would be even MORE of him to love.

“I know we don't have the money, but I'm just so selfish, so goddamn greedy!” Slowly his body expanded in all directions, his winter coat straining as he suddenly began to grow. He smirked at her as he saw the look of lust in her eyes. “I know you want this. So help me baby… help me GROW.”

Shoulders broadening, chest widening, his pecs thickened as his muscles grew more powerful with each passing beat. “M--more,” he moaned still unsatisfied. His coat began to rip as his jeans burst at the seams.

He reached out for her then as the rest of his clothes completely disintegrated. Thick, pulsing veins raced around his meaty forearms, his biceps had grown so large they looked big and strong enough to crush almost anything. His thighs were equally impressive, with the power to rival the mightiest of oaks. He knew he was growing addicted to the strength, addicted to the sensations of growth...

Bouncing his big, juicy pecs he watched as she licked her lips. He towered over her now and he showed no signs of stopping. His cock began to rise as he grew, and a loud, deepening moan slipped out as his head flung back with the pleasure of unstoppable growth.

In the reflection of the glass door he could see his own inhuman reflection. “F-- Fuck, I'm so big,” he roared. Lifting her towards him with just one massive arm. He shoved down her leggings, ripping her panties with his powerful hand.

“And just so we're clear,” he leaned in and whispered. “I'm going to have you screaming profanities so hard when you cum, Santa will definitely be putting you on the naughty list tonight…"


Sorry, no smut in this one.. but good things come to those who, well, keep reading!

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A quick, fun spin on a classic Christmas song. Hope you enjoy💋


“I really can't stay.”

--But baby it's cold outside.

“I must get away!”

--But baby… *grunts* ...it's cold outside.

“This evening has been...”

-- Been hoping… *you glance down at me, flexing a slightly larger bicep* ...that you'd drop in.


“So very nice.”

--I'll hold your hands... *I watch with wide eyes as you place my palms on your slowly rising traps* ...they're just like ice.


“My mother will start to worry.”

--Beautiful… *your veins pulse as they snake down and wind around your meaty arms* ...what's your hurry?


“My father will be pacing the floor.”

--*Your biceps and forearms fill with even more mass and power* ...Listen to the fireplace roar.


“Really I'd better scurry.”

--Beautiful... *You bring both arms up, groaning as you curl those massive forearms and flex* ...please don't hurry.


“Well, maybe just a half a drink more.”

--Watch me explode through the top floor... *You lean forward then, overcome with lust and this need for more. Pulling me flush against yourself, your arm getting stronger as it wraps tightly around my waist. Suddenly your body pulses outward in all directions and you fling your head back letting out a deep moan in pleasure.*


“The neighbors might think…”

--But baby, *growls* it's bad out there.


“Say what's in this drink?”

--*Your large hand slams the door shut behind me* ....No cabs to be had out there.


“I wish I knew how…”

--Your eyes… *You pause slightly as your shirt bursts at the seams, ripping down the middle as it fails to contain you* ...are like starlight now.


“To break this spell.”

--I'll take your hat… *you smirk as you feel my lips wrapping around one of your pecs, bulging and expanding-- Bigger. Rounder. Fuller* ...your hair looks swell.


“I ought to say, no, no, no sir.”

--*You're body is getting so huge, so BIG and STRONG, taking up even more space* ...Mind if I move in closer?


“At least I'm gonna say that I tried.”

--What's the sense in hurtin' my pride? *I try to open the door again, but with a deepening growl you pull me against your chest. “LOOK at me,” you bellow. “Look at what you're making me! So BIG! UNGHHH!!! So fucking HUGE! LOOK at what I'm BECOMING!”


“I really must go.”
--But baby, *your head rolls back against your ever broadening shoulders, your deepening roar sends shivers down my spine* ...it's cold outside


“The answer is no.”

--But baby... *you move forward, easily lifting me as though I weigh nothing* ….it's cold outside.


“Your welcome has been…” *I gasp as the thin fabric of my leggings barely serves as any barrier at all between my throbbing, wet core and your hard, pulsing prick.

--How lucky that you dropped in.


“So nice and warm.”

--Look out the window at this dawn… *But as we both see the massive head of your growing cock, slowly peeking out the top of your waistband, you and I both know exactly where I’m looking.*


“My sister will be suspicious.”

-- *You don’t miss a beat, your musk slowly starting to beat down my defenses* ...Gosh your lips look delicious.


“My brother will be there at the door.”

--Waves … *you shrug your colossal shoulders, causing ripples to shoot across your shoulders and pecs* ...upon the tropical shore.



“My maiden aunt’s mind is vicious.”

--Gosh… *you pull back, leaving me panting and waiting for more* ...your lips are delicious.


“Well, maybe just a Netflix show more.”

--Never such a blizzard before


“I've gotta get home.”

--But baby, *I find myself moaning in your lap as you continue to grow* ..you'd freeze out there


“Say lend me a coat.”

--It's up to your knees… *your chest pushes out as your cock lengthens and shoots up between us* ...out there.


“You've really been grand.”

--I thrill when you touch my hand… *Your thighs grow thicker, fighting for space against each other and your testosterone filled balls.*


“But don't you see?”

--*You moan loudly now, your body shuddering with a final expansion of muscle and growth* ...See how you do this thing to me?



“There's bound to be talk tomorrow.”

--Think of my lifelong sorrow… *I feel your arms tighten around me, thicker, heavier, stronger.*


“At least there will be plenty implied.”

--Stop! Just stop! *You growl and I look up at you confused. “You're not leaving me, not this Christmas Eve night or EVER!” You lean in to kiss me, thick, dense muscle hulking out all around me.*


“I really can't stay,” *I whisper, but this time, you can see I don't mean it. I lean in to nibble on your lips… and your nose… and your...*
--Baby, it's cold… Baby, it's cold outside!

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