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The holiday season in the fetish community; mistletoe facefucks, reindeer gangbangs and sex toy secret Santas. According to Remy and most of his circle, it was the best time of the year hands down. Everyone had their own favourite kinky gimmicks, but they could all agree that a visit from Santa Claws was the best part by far.

It was a pretty simple set up. Your kinky friends, your master, your Daddy or whoever would sign you up and then 'Santa Claws' would get in touch with them to figure out how to give you the best sex you'd ever had. Or 2nd best sex, if your partner was a little sensitive about the phrasing.

The stories were wild and ranged from being tied up and teased by Santa's elves to Santa himself sneaking into your bedroom to pound you into the mattress. Even the strictest tops had stories about how Santa Claws had melted them into a mewling mess. It was no surprise that he was fully booked from the 1st of December to the 24th every year.

When Remy found out that his husband, Chad, had gotten him a night with Santa Claws; he hadn't been able to sit still for the entire week. He'd been so excited that nothing could keep his energy levels down. His husband had spent plenty of time teasing him; grinding against the Beagle in bed and groping him at inopportune times. He'd gotten pretty pent up by the 6thday. But now the night was here, and every bubble of frustration had burst into excitement.

After coming back from visiting friends, Remy had immediately jumped into the shower. Admittedly, he spent most of the time inspecting his own curvy figure and imagining Santa Claws' paws around it, but when he heard the front door unlock he scrambled to finish showering.

He'd towelled off in record time and headed straight of the stairs but had slowed down upon reaching the top of them. For once it wasn't nerves or shyness, but a desire to help this night last for as long as possible.

All of the lights downstairs had been switched off. The warm, orange glow of the fireplace emanated from the living room and the crackle of the fire could be heard from the stairs, underscored by a faint crunch as someone bit into a cookie. There was a strong smell of whisky in the air.

By descending even further, Remy could peer ever so slightly into the living room. The furniture had been re-arranged so that the armchair was on the very edge of the rug facing the door, tilted at an angle so that it could catch the warmth of the fire. Remy could see the outline of a figure resting in that armchair, their heavy leather boots reflecting the light as they themselves rested upon a chaise. A small table sat next to them,

Enthralled, Remy forgot about the particularly creaky floorboard as he stepped off the stairs. The groan rang out through the house and the person in the living room began to shuffle about. Remy froze.

After a few seconds of pause, a gruff and masculine voice spoke up.

"Well come on then! Don't keep me waiting until next Christmas."

The beagle did not reply, but his feet began to carry him forwards into the living room. He couldn't help but let out a little gasp of delight when he finally laid eyes on Santa Claws.

Lounging in the armchair, pants-less with his legs spread wide to expose himself, was a 50-something year old polar bear. Remy instinctively averted his gaze, looking down at the feet of the man to avoid eye contact. All that did was force him to stare right at the heavy duty, steel toe capped, leather boots the ursine wore. The beagle was familiar with those style of boots; having been made to worship or grind against them by many men over the years. Remy quickly began to search for something else to look at before his cock could stir.

His eyes followed up Santa Claws' stocky, toned legs and blinked when he reached the crotch to avoid looking at the man's junk. Then he continued to trace the happy trail of grey fur over Santa Claws' musclegut, between his fat pecs and into the forest of chest hair.

Santa Claws was by no means a small man, easily twice the width of Remy. He had squeezed himself into an X-harness with an O-ring at the centre of his chest. Black nipples peeked out from the sides of the Santa coat; a coat that did nothing to hide the muscles of his arms or the width of his shoulders. The fabric strained, threatening to rip should he flex at all. A belt around his waist prevented it from falling open.

Remy finally glanced up at the man's face when Santa Claws coughed for his attention. The beagle met the dark blue eyes of a grizzled, stern and cocky looking polar bear. A thick beard of grey as unkempt as his busy eyebrows covered his muzzle. In the centre of that face was his black button nose, leathery like all polar bears. Then of course was the finishing touch for any Santa; the red cap with a white fluffy brim and a pom pom on the end. It sat nestled between his ears and whatever hair he had hid underneath.

"Do you know what time it is, boy?"

The polar bear finished off a tumbler of whiskey before placing it on the side table.

"Past midnight, Sir?"

"You're 38 minutes late."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" The beagle replied with genuine surprise. "I had no idea, Sir."

"At least you remember your manners." Santa Claws huffed as he rose out of the chair to settle onto the chaise, undoing his belt as he did. "Come. Sit on Santa Claws' lap."

The removal of his belt caused the two halves of his jacket to part. The motion drew Remy's eye and before he could stop himself, the beagle found himself staring right down at the bear's thick, uncut cock. His black prick was flaccid, but still easily as big as the dog's palms. The fat balls were comparable to plump apples, a trail of fur ran down their middle. The happy trail on his belly ended in a thick bush that made a jungle of his crotch.

Remy stumbled closer without a second thought as his tongue slipped past his lips for a second.

"Don't think that you're not in trouble though. Wrists, now."

The polar bear had fashioned his belt into a makeshift set of handcuffs; folding it once and then threading it through the buckle before presenting it for Remy to slip his wrists through. Remy took the final step without hesitation, clasping his hands together and holding them out for the leather to tighten around them. He yelped a little as burly hands pulled him up into the bear's lap.

He settled in a position where his torso was laid out across Santa Claws' lap. His legs dangled off the end of the chaise and his elbows locked on the other side of the man's legs. He felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable from being unable to look at the polar bear whilst Santa Claws had free reign to inspect every inch of Remy. One hand settled on the dog's ass, the other on his back.

"If it weren't almost Christmas time, I'd belt your hide raw for being late..."

The beagle gave a muffled 'sorry, sir'.

"... But don't think you're escaping a spanking. Now count!"

Remy had just enough time to splutter out an 'Okay, Sir!' before the firm hands were upon him. The impact was such a shock that his tail uncurled, pointing upwards towards the ceiling as the second landed. His legs curled and uncurled with each smack.

"O-o-one! Two!" The beagle quickly spluttered, hoping that Santa Claws would count those.

He could feel the bedrock firmness of each strike, the determined follow through jiggled his ass cheeks and shook the cusp between buttock and thigh. It was a blast of electricity followed by a searing heat that persisted into the next blow each time. Sometimes most of it would be allowed to cool off and other times he'd land the next one before Remy had even finished counting it. At ten, he paused for a moment.

It was somewhere between soothing and painful to have this Daddy bear rub his burning asscheeks, yet either way it caused the beagle to moan through gritted teeth. His writhing is what caused them both to notice that the other was rock hard. Their erections touched, tips batting one another. Both of them were leaking pre, Remy into the bear's lap and the bear into the furs of Remy's stomach. The pause lasted for so long that the beagle's left foot began to shake in anticipation. Santa Claws reached a handout to quell it and the spanking continued.

The smacks grew harder with each strike; whether that was the momentum building or his cheeks getting rawer he couldn't tell. Tears began to build in his eyes and the sounds of the surrounding room began to phase out until all he could hear were the resounding strikes against his bare ass. He counted ten more and lifted his head up to look at the polar bear during the break, only to yelp out in pain as the 21st impact came. There was no break to be had just yet.

Remy felt his tears on his cheeks before he realized he was crying, then the shaking shoulders and sniffled numbers came. On 25 he winced in anticipation of another, on the verge of sobbing, only for Santa Claws to rub the dog's shoulders. A few moments respite was granted until the tears could stop and the next ten followed in time with his breathing.

In.

SMACK.

"26." With a gasping exhale.

In.

SMACK.

"27." As his lips quivered, breath escaping.

He made it all the way to 35 with only the occasional tear. The tension and energy had drained from him by then. Remy felt like putty in the bear's hands; his rock hard cock the only solid part of him.

"Last three." Santa Claws spoke. "Get ready, boy."

In the blink of an eye, three firm blows were rained down upon his ass cheeks; jumping from left to right and then back to the left with a final, earth-shaking smack. Remy hadn't had time to brace and so his mind drew blanks as nothing but searing, white hot pain ran through his nerves and flashed in his brain. His whole body seemed to bob and shake ever so slightly as he gasped, mouth agape and eyes wide. Then it all caught up at once, causing him to curl him and alternate between moaning and the start of sobs.

Santa Claws' hands were there to soothe and comfort him, rubbing the dog's lower back and cradling his face as the man cooed. The both of them knew that the dog would have no lasting injuries, except for perhaps the mark on his pride that became apparent when the faint smell of cum caught their noses. A wad of seed had dripped down onto the polar bear's leg, it was barely visible contrasted against his fur. There wasn't enough for it to have been a full orgasm, but there was just enough for Santa Claws to wipe onto his finger.

"If you're that excited, I won't keep you waiting."

Using the dog's cum as lube, Santa Claws brought those fingers to Remy's tailhole and took a moment to smear it over his pucker. The dog's reaction was a mumble of pleasure that grew into a deep groan when just one finger pushed inside down to the knuckle. With it buried deep, the polar bear rolled his finger around to rub what was left of the cum into Remy's deepest parts before withdrawing his finger and reaching off to the side for something.

Remy attempted to look, but two of the fingers from the bear's right hand pushed their way into his mouth without warning. They parted his lips and pinned down his tongue. He went cross-eyed looking down at them, startled by the intrusion. It was his gag reflex that brought him back to action and reminded him to start sucking.

It took some effort to roll them in his mouth, but the bear did not resist and allowed his fingers to be moved by the dog's tongue. He'd push them out until they were almost removed, then pull them back to suck on them more. He used his tongue to explore the bear's fingers and tease them as if they were his cock. Spittle began to build up and run down his chin, but the dog carried on unphased.

Even the cold chill of lube being squirted onto his hole didn't discourage him. The two thick digits pushing into his hole, however, did. Remy let out a terrific moan, that only grew louder as those fingers pushed deeper, swirling as they did. His mouth had opened wide around the fingers, but when the ones in his ass reached the knuckle he seemed to remember his duty and got right back to worshipping the bear's fingers. Quickly adjusting to the feelings of both sets of fingers working their way in and then out, Remy closed his eyes and allowed his whole body to bob and sway.

Certain that Remy had fallen into the rhythm, Santa Claws switched it up. He adjusted the angle so that his fingers were rubbing over the dog's prostate. The response was immediate; a slight tremble in Remy's left leg and a good dose of precum leaking from his cock It was a gentle touch at first, but it grew firmer and firmer with each lap until he was pressing down on the love nut as if it were a button. Then the rubbing started once again. Remy's mouth spread open, jaw stretching as he tried to fight back a moan and the urge to bite down. He might have faltered had it not stopped as fast as it had started.

Santa Claws took the opportunity to force all four of his fingers into Remy's mouth, then yanked the fingers in the dog's ass free so that he could stop involuntary holding his mouth open. Albeit, his mouth couldn't close all that much with four fingers stuffing his mouth. He couldn't even suckle on them, all he could do was wait patiently whilst the bear prepared him for more fingers.

Lube was applied once again. Three fingers took their time teasing his hole: tugging on his walls, pressing themselves against his slightly stretched pucker and dipping inside for just a moment. A desperate moan signalled that he was sufficiently teased and so three fingers positioned themselves to slide inside.

They did so at a glacial pace, half to ease the entrance and half to deny him anything more than a creeping pleasure. Remy closed his eyes, his mouth still forced open and pictured it happening. He imagined his tailhole swallowing the tips of the bears fingers one after the other. They straightened out as they passed the midpoint, but left a slight bump for him to moan over. When he was finally knuckle deep and the real finger fucking could begin.

The bear's fingers began to piston back and forth, dipping in and out of the beagle's hole every second. They'd allow the dog's hole to close only to slip back in a moment later, teasing his prostate on the entrance and the exit. Through-out all of this, the bear's fingers in the dog's mouth remained resolute and held fast whilst the tempo increased until the sounds of wild moaning and wet shlicks filled the air. At some point a fourth finger joined the fray, but by then Remy's eyes had rolled back and his body had gone slack with pleasure.

A familiar pressure built in the dog's crotch, his prostate feeling swollen and abused whilst his cock had hardened to full mast. He'd been finger fucked plenty of times before, but the addition of fingers in his mouth had pushed a button he'd forgotten he had. Remy wondered if he might pop from just the bear's fingers.

He was practically on the edge of orgasm when Santa Claws suddenly thrust his fingers forwards with a second wind of force. They went as deep as they could go, part of the knuckle ended up swallowed, and were only stopped by the bear's thumb which began to stroke around the stretched rim. Immediately the dog's body began to tremble, his hole straining and his cock jumping. But those fingers and the ones in Remy's mouth were motionless. There was nothing for him to derive pleasure from. A few moments passed and the shaking stopped, his boiling lust soothed and his breathing returned to normal.

Santa Claws withdrew both sets of fingers, leaving Remy dripping and drooling from both ends.

"Well now, lad." The bear spoke, wiping spittle and lube from his hands using Remy's fur. "I was going to have you ride it, but I'm not sure you're quite here enough for that are you slut?"

That was very much true, Remy was still mewling in the bear's lap as if the finger fuck was still happening.

Santa Claws guided Remy out of his position bent over the chair and into one in which he was sitting in the bear's lap. His back was pressed to the bear's chest, butt lined up with his lap and legs draped over the bear's legs. The belt was removed from around his wrists and tossed to the side.

Even in his daze, he could feel the bear's erection poking him and when Santa Claws bent a leg to put a foot on the armchair, he instinctively raised his own legs. The bear took the dog by the ankles and helped guide him until his knees were level with his head, toes pointing straight up at the ceiling.

As Santa Claws took a moment to lube up his cock, Remy's hands scrambled to grip onto the bear's knees and the left arm of the chair to support himself as he kept his balance. One of the bear's hands swiftly returned and wrapped around the crook of his leg to stop him from dropping them, but the other remained where it was to guide Santa Claws' cock to the target.

Remy felt it push against his pucker. He hurried to clench his eyes shut and bite his lower lip only to stop a moment later as a whined moan escaped his lips. The dog's eyes fluttered open as the bear's cock sank in with ease. Both of their mouths hung, a whine escaping Remy's and a pleased exhale escaping Santa Claws.

This bear was truly an expert. There was just enough lube to get that glide, but not so much that it was a perfectly smooth entrance. He'd been stretched enough to take it all and feel everything. It felt as if he were being split open in all the right ways; his cock was rock hard and his brain was struggling to form words for him to utter. All he could do was gasp and utter the start of pleasured words as six, fat inches were buried in his hole. It ground over his prostate in the most delightful way, leaving his aching cock leaking a near-clear strand of precum.

Remy only realized he'd taken all of it when Santa Claws moved the hand that had guided his cock in up to Remy's other leg. That was when the real fucking began.

The bear's cock withdrew until only the head was inside, tugging on the dog's pucker as it lingered there for a second. The following thrust was so strong that Remy finally managed a full word:

"Fuck!"

His moans and curses echoed around the room as Santa Claws continued to thrust in and out. He wasn't even going particularly fast, but for Remy the feeling of his tailhole empty and starving then suddenly full was heaven. Each thrust elicited another sound from the dog until at last he had adjusted to the sensation of his hole being fucked with masterful strokes, then those noises swapped to ragged breathing and stolen gasps.

Head flopping back against Santa Claws' chest, Remy looked up to see that the bear had his eyes shut tight. His lips moved but made no sound and his nose twitched every so often. Smiling, Remy reached up to wrap his hands around the back of the bear's head.

The bear's hips did all the work, slightly lifting them out of the arm chair as he began to build speed and power. Their moans, gasps and cries filled the air as their leaking cocks throbbed. Each thrust seemed to slicken the bear's cock further, until he was pounding up into Remy with blinding speed; balls slapping against the dog's for a minute until both men's began to tighten closer to their body.

By chance the bear opened his eyes as Remy looked up, allowing them to exchange a look between them. The bear's hands shot into position; one grasping the dog's cock and the other clasping around his throat. With a desperation that matched his thrusting, Santa Claws jerked Remy's cock with a strong grip. That was all Remy could take.

Moaning and gasping, the beagle exploded into his orgasm; cock throbbing hard as it sprayed pearly, white jizz across the room and onto the carpet. He squirmed and turned as the bear refused to let up, adding to the waves of pleasure coursing through Remy's body.

He felt himself clench around the cock plundering him and a moment later it was Santa Claws' turn to come. A deep groan started in the back of his throat, he tried to stifle it but it easily escaped as he delivered one final, deep thrust into the dog and emptied his load. Four, five, six spurts flooded the dog and immediately began to leak out around the bear's cock as his orgasm slowly petered out. The last of Remy's orgasm dribbled out onto the bear's fingers as they remained there, panting as they caught their breaths.

The bear's cock popped free, followed by a torrent of cum, and so Remy lowered his legs as he settled back against Santa Claws. He turned on his side to bury his head in the bear's chest, mewling softly as that comfortable fur enveloped him. The fingers playing with his hole told him the night wasn't over yet, but for now he could rest for as long as he wanted in Santa's lap.