December 25th, 1995
by a jolly old elf
It was very quiet, so quiet that one could hear the snow crystals chime as the fell to join the others in the drifts. Light twinkled outlining the windows and doors of each house, as Christmas trees blinked in sections leaving momentary shadows on the walls. A thud and slide was heard on the roof top followed by footfalls. When they stopped a slight grunt was heard from the mantle of the old fire place. With a swish the jolly old icon of Christmas was emerging from the hearth and just as he turned to look at the beautiful Christmas tree, he noticed a plate of chocolate chip cookies piled high and a huge tankard of milk. Being his last house for the year he felt a bit stuffed, his suit was feeling tight after the last few million cookies and pints of milk. Although the cookies looked like they were just taken from the oven. He picked one up and found it soft and warm. He finished it in two bites and washed it down with the sweet milk. Just as he was about to take another one he suddenly felt dizzy. He sat down on the couch to try to get his bearings and soon blacked out.
When he awoke Santa found himself In strange surroundings. He started to panic, but remembered that at least he had finished all the rest of his route before he passed out. He looked around the very comfortable room and soon came to the realization that his arms and legs were held to the loveseat he sat in by padded restraints. He started to struggle when he heard footsteps, so he quickly played possum, closing his eyes, he laid back limp, listening carefully.
The footsteps approached and he strained to listen, they were loud footfalls, apparently made by someone of large size, but he never got a look because from behind he hadn't heard someone else creep up and pull a blind- fold over his eyes. "Who are you? What do you want?", he shouted. There was no response, but he smelled something wonderful. It smelled like home baked cookies, and also vanilla custard. His mouth watered despite his predicament. He could hear breathing in from of him, by it's depth he guessed it was the large person with the loud footsteps. He felt something press past his flowing mustache and against his red-as-a-bow-like lips. He didn't strain and let the object enter his mouth. As he did he tasted a cookie like none he tasted before, and he had tasted more than his share. As he chewed the crumbs danced upon his tongue, a beautiful dance of flavor. His tongue swirled about as the chocolate chips exploded sending his taste buds soaring. And just as the taste passed into his gullet, another cooking was thrust in, and another, and another, and another still. He had lost count around thirty, but soon after found another sensation enter his mouth, the warm vanilla custard. He swallowed spoonful after spoonful, leaning his head forward to get to it faster. In time the spoonfuls stopped and Santa felt the seams of his suit straining to hold him and his feast of plenty. Then a sort of tube was pushed between his lips and the smell of nutmeg filled his nostrils. He had completely forgotten he was being held prisoner by the time the taste of warm cream, honey, and nutmeg filled his mouth. He gently sucked on the tube filling any possible gaps in his 'round, yet not so little, belly'. He had lost all track of time as he slurped his way to sleep. As cream spilled out over his beard and down his suit which had since burst at the seams, the last thing he felt was a gentle hand remove the tube and blot his beard dry.
When he awoke he found himself dressed in a new red suit. This one was exceptionally roomy despite his increased girth, in fact it was huge by even his standards. "Hello?", he said halfheartedly. Within a blink of an eye, the blindfold had returned as did the wonderful aroma of food. "I thank you for sharing your feast with me, but...", he was stopped by a finger against his lips. He noted how the finger felt a bit, well chubby. All other thought disappeared as the taste of warm, buttered, corn muffins arrived, followed by hunks of moist turkey, buttery, whipped potatoes, mouth fillingly huge, candied sweet potatoes, thick buttered slices of sweet nut bread, big fork fulls of stuffing, and gulps of cool sweet milk occasionally to wash it all down. Through the enticing culinary rotation over and over and over and...over. Just as he felt a bit bloated, the food stopped as his coat was unbuttoned and large hands kneaded and massaged his 'ever so rounder belly'. He relaxed and wished he hadn't left his pipe in the sleigh. It didn't matter really, because even had he the chance to hold it, his reindeer would have gone for help by now. He wondered where the 'help' could be. It could be worse, he thought. This wasn't exactly torture. The massage stopped as his coat was rebuttoned and he smelled cookies again. One passed his lips. Butter cookies, almost oozing with butter. He felt the soft fresh baked dough press between his molars and he, in a small way, wished help wasn't coming. After several dozen he again felt the tube press his lips. He started to fight it, but soon gave in as the nutmeg smell filled the air. He tried to stay awake drinking what seemed like gallons of the creamy bliss before falling into a warm euphoric sleep.
This time when he awoke he wasn't in the warm comfortable loveseat and his arms were no longer held by the padded restraints. It was cold and blustery, and as he opened his eyes he saw that he was....home. He sat upon the seat of his sleigh his wide girth taking up most of the seat and his now 'round, nay, rotund overhanging belly' hid his feet from view as his shiny belt buckle rested on the front edge of the sleigh. The reindeer seemed fine as though nothing had happened. Three elves came out and without a word unhitched the team and departed to their work. If it wasn't for his increased girth Santa would have thought it a dream. He stood up with some difficulty and dismounted the sleigh making deep impressions in the snow. he waddled his newly increased form to the house and opened the door. Mrs. Claus stood up and exclaimed, "What took so long, dear? You're nearly two days late. I was worried!" He negotiated the door, having to pivot slightly sideways to fit his wider hips through, even then it was a squeeze. "I'm not sure what happened, dear?", he said. She looked puzzled. "Don't you notice anything different?", he bellowed. She approached him and went to hug him. Her hands barely made it halfway around due to his mass added to her own build, now quite small in comparison. He started to tell the tale as she held him, but was cut short as her finger pressed his lips. He paused as she began to rub his belly. A smile ran across his lips. "I'm sorry dear, what did you say?", she looked up at him slyly. His smile broadened. "Is that chocolate chips I smell??"
December 25th, 1995