Your Christmas Present
I've been trying to write something for you guys, I swear. I'm just awfully slow. So I made this little Christmas present for you...
I've been trying to write something for you guys, I swear. I'm just awfully slow. So I made this little Christmas present for you...
Finding the perfect Christmas gift is always difficult. Searching through the shops, hoping to find that one item that perfectly fits is no way to do it, yet there I found myself, on the last day before Christmas, staring through the window of a shop, desperately trying to think of someone on my list who would be happy with a pair of socks embroidered with a Santa. And that wasn't the only thing on my mind. I hadn't written a story in an age, and wanted to get something done before Christmas, but my well of inspiration was running low.
I sighed. Though the crowds were starting to thin out now, the pathways of the shopping centre still thronged with last minute shoppers winding their way through the displays of trees, peering into the windows just as I was. Maybe they would have better luck than I was in finding gifts.
"Looking for something in particular?"
The voice was warms and friendly. I turned from my position at the window to find a mall Santa behind me, a traditional red suited fat man with a white beard, his eyes twinkling a little as he smiled.
I Wasn't sure why he was talking to me, not at this point. I suspected this was some kind of strange new marketing, just to match the season, but I didn't plan on being talked into buying something I didn't want. "Uh, not really. Just looking for some things for some friends." I moved to walk away, but the Santa started talking again, and it felt somehow rude to ignore him.
"Well, I always say the best kind of present is the kind that comes from the heart. Something that you've put your soul into."
He sounded genuine, too. This wasn't the sales patter I'd been expecting. "I suppose so," I replied. "But I'm having trouble thinking of anything. And I don't really have the time, not this close to Christmas."
"I suppose that's true, I have all year to prepare my presents. Ho ho!" How about I help you a little?" He raised one hand to stroke his beard. "You can supply the idea, and I'll make it for you."
I gave a nervous little laugh. Was this guy crazy? I didn't want to make a scene, not in front of children. Speaking of them, I suddenly noticed that no-one was reacting to a Santa in the middle of a path, not even kids running up to him. Though it appeared their paths were perfectly natural, every one was avoiding this little space. Even the sounds of the crowds seemed slightly muted.
I glanced about. "Alright, what's going on?"
He chuckled, and spread his arms. "Why, Santa Claus has come to help someone in need, that's all!"
He was... believable. Everything about him made me want to think that he was real. Wasn't it nice to think that there was someone who would reward us for being good? What was wrong with doing nothing nice?
Despite myself, I nodded. "What... do I have to do?"
"Just follow me."
With that, he reached past me and opened a door hidden between two shops, that I had assumed to be a service door, and beckoned me to enter.
The alleyway between the shops was filled, not with overflowing bags of rubbish as you might expect, but an enormous sleigh, daubed with red paint, and indefinably old. Age steamed off it, but not decay: this was something that had been made anew so many times but never lost its heart. There were no reindeer in the harnesses to pull it, but there was enormous sack in the back, ready to have presents pulled out for all the good boys and girls.
Father Christmas brushed the thick hawfrost off the ledge and seat before climbing on. Funny. I hadn't even noticed it was cold. In fact, I was starting to feel rather warm in my thick winter coat.
"Now, let's see here..." With one gloved hand, he shifted a pile of straps adorned with little bells to get to a stack of papers beneath. The sound was strange, a gentle tinkling that somehow shook my mind, disrupting my thoughts. He called me back into the world by calling my name, making me jump. "How do you know who I am?"
"Ho ho ho! I know all about everybody, of course! It's my job, to make a list of all those who have been naughty, and all those who have been nice! Now, what I can do for you depends which list you are on..."
I gulped. Could he really know everything I'd done? I flushed with embarrassment. My coat was getting too hot. I loosened it, hoping a little cool air would help me think.
"Well now, you do have a few good deeds in here. You've been giving to charity, that's better than last year. You helped your parents to redecorate, and you always remembered to refill the coffee at work. But, on the other hand, you do always take the last biscuit. And when your friend needed help moving, you said you were busy, and then stayed in playing video games. Oh, and of course, you backed into that car, drove away and never even left a note." He tutted, and shook his head.
My gut was churning, way too hot. I slipped out of my coat. If this was going to be my judgement, I wanted to be comfortable.
"You forgot to give Jack that money you owed him for the holiday, so he went into his overdraft. You dropped Ethans' car keys down a grate, and then convinced him he lost them while drunk."
He dipped his head so he could look over the glasses. "All in all, it looks like you bad deeds have outweighed your good deeds. I'm sorry, but you've ended up on the naughty list."
I hung my head. MY breaths were coming fast and heavy, my chest feeling tight beneath my shirt.
"Oh, and then there's the small matter of all those stories you've been posting online."
I gulped. Surely that wouldn't matter. I had my accounts online, but the porno stories were just a bit of fun, just something I wrote to toss off to. And if other people liked them, well, surely that was a good thing?
"Okay, so I write a bit of porn! But there's nothing wrong with that!"
"Oh dear, you are a bit defensive about that. But though the stories are very naughty, that's not why I brought it up."
He climbed off the sleigh, picked up the mass of straps and bells as he did so. The ringing made me shiver, despite the heat. My body was burning. I pulled off my jersey and the t shirt beneath.
"No, you've been keeping those people waiting for a very long time. You just started the stories, but couldn't think how to finish them. It's very naughty to keep them on edge for months."
I gulped. Naked from the waist up, I was still too hot. I ran a hand through my chest hair. It felt like it was much thicker and smoother than it had been. "I-I've been trying to write..."
"Trying is not doing, you know. But even though you've made it onto the naughty list, I think I can do something to help you."
He held the straps, sorting them into order. My head swam at the sound. Something on the top of my head itched. "You know what the best kind of present to give your readers would be, don't you?"
"Something from the heart."
He reached forward. The straps were leather, or something similar. They rubbed gently against my skin and fur as I bowed my head so he could put it on. "Something I put my soul into."
My mouth ached, too, like I wanted something between my teeth. Was my mouth longer, or was it my imagination?
"So what should you give?"
The jingling bells stirred my mind, and the answer rose to the top of my mind. "I should give myself."
"And I can help you do that." He slipped the bit of the harness into my muzzle. It felt good to bite down on it, the bells ringing as I moved it, shifting as my face pushed forwards. I could just see my nose flatten and spread, turning black as my brown fur spread up to it. "First, let's get you all nicely wrapped up."
The straps of the harness tightened around my growing antlers, as they were designed to do. It pulled around my jaw, and I snorted, tossing my head. The sound of bells made my eyes flicker, my mind pushed into disarray.
"We'll have to remove all that unsightly packaging, now. We don't want your friends finding the price tag."
Dazed, I fumbled with the buckle of my belt. My fingers didn't want to grip properly, and I had to move two fingers together as nails expanded and fused. I just about managed to slip the button out and push the zip down before I had nothing but hooves on the end of my arms. I hooked them over the edge of my belt and pulled down, wiggling it over my widening hips. I found my shoes slipped off easily; my feet lengthening and slimming down as they too became digitarde hooves. The shifting bones of my legs threw my sense of balance and I fell to my knees, making the bells adorning my rattle my mind, shaking it to the core.
"Very good. Now, let's get you all wrapped up."
Something clipped to the halter, around my neck. I tried to look down, but the jingling broke my reason for doing so, my eyes going limp and heavy. His gloved hands fastened something on my nipples, tweaking them to the edge of pain. The clips were attached the straps, which he gathered together, letting the bells on them ring as they fell to dangle between my legs.
I didn't see him move behind me. The heat pulsing through me, focusing at my crotch and nipples, overriding all else. Then Santa pulled the straps, tightening them against my groin, the cleft of my wide spread ass, wrapping around the upraised tuft of my tail. He clipped them to the back of my neck, and I felt the tug of the reins, jingling and pulling my muzzle obediently from side to side.
"Now just a few pretty bows, and you'll be all ready to go."
He wrapped a cuff of bells around my forearm, just above the hoof. I watch with empty eyes, mind numbed by the constant tinkling, as he clipped my wrist to the other side of the nipple ring, and did the same on the other side. I sat, dazed and stupefied by the process, waiting to be told what I would do next. The only movement was the slow steady rise and fall of my chest, and the droplets of saliva falling from my mouth to glisten on the curve of my chest.
Then orders came, not in the form of words, but in a flick of the reins; a ring that led down past the remnants of my consciousness and made my body move. I staggered to my hooves, wobbling from side to side as I tried to balance my unfamiliar new body. I paused for a second, half bent over, thrusting my rear into the air, hooves spread wide on the ground, unable to use my forelimbs to straighten myself out. A further tug helped me upright, and I posed as instinct made me, my spine curved to thrust my chest forward and ass back, head tilted submissively down, one knee lifted in front of the other. My forehands still held to my nipples, I seemed to be begging like a dog.
"Excellent. You're all ready to be delivered."
He slapped my rear. My only reaction was a sharp intake of breath at the spike in arousal that ran through me, other wise staying still. With a tug of my muzzle, he pulled me forwards, walking up to the sleigh. "Now, I'm sure you'd try to pull my sleigh if I asked - I'm sure you'd do anything you're asked - but I'm afraid presents don't go in front of the sleigh; no, the go in the sack. Do you understand?"
I looked at him. The mass of flesh in my head was dense and useless. Did I understand? I had nothing to understand with. I simply had obedience.
"Well, go on, climb in and I'll take you down the chimney of those lucky folk."
An order! Something to obey!
As he held the bag open, I carefully climbed in. Unable to use my fore hooves, it was tricky and I almost fell, but I wiggled my way through the opening, my pert buttocks disappearing into the darkness.
There was no time in the depths of the sack. No stimulation, nothing for my fragmenting personality to focus on to regather itself, nothing but my complete submission to your commands. And that was how I was when he led me out of the sack, to kneel beneath your Christmas tree.
I sit and I wait. All I can feel is the heat and arousal coursing through my body. Every slight twitch, the strong beat of my heart, is enough to jingle the bells on my antlers, stirring the broken shards of my brain and pushing me deeper and deeper into my perpetual obedience. But I am not quite a thoughtless gift. One string of words still rises to the front of my mind:
I hope you enjoy your present.