On the Nice List

On the Nice List: Sexy brat's last chance to get back on Santa's nice list before Christmas day.

All characters 18+

"You've been a naughty boy, Jack!" a voice rumbled in the dark.

I turned to find some random old Bear dressed up as Santa. As Christmas pranks go it was a bit basic, but I couldn't help but snicker. It was Christmas Eve after all.

"How'd you guess my name?" I asked rolling my eyes, thinking he'd probably just been stalking me on Grindr.

"I'm Santa, I know every little boy's name!"

Squinting through the streetlight, I tried to recognise him. He didn't look like any of the Daddies I'd been stringing along. I'd never have actually hooked-up with an older guy, I just liked the attention, and I usually ghosted them after sharing some cheeky pics.

I couldn't make a guess at this Guy's age. He seemed old and young at the same time. Fat for sure, but also kinda swole. looked more like Zeus than Father Christmas.

"Aren't you a bit hench to play Santa?"

"Chatting back! This is exactly what I'm talking about - Naughty!"

Coming closer I got a better look at him - Impressive white beard, an ankle-length red coat with white fur trim, and the famous hat. Underneath he wore a Cornish sweater, cargo pants, and builder's boots. Not quite the classic TV commercial standard, but a workable last-minute fix.

His blue eyes seemed to twinkle at me, and I had to admit that I did find him pretty hot.

"I wasn't expecting presents anyway." I humoured him.

"You're supposed to be on the Nice List Jack, but you keep doing naughty things!"

"Oh yeah, like what?"

"Look at you! Like butter wouldn't melt!" he shook his head, "You might dress like a nice boy, but Santa knows you've been bad!"

I did like to dress squeaky clean. New Fred Perry and fresh sneakers. I always buttoned my polos up, and wore a gold chain round the collars. Just got my hair trimmed in time for Christmas too - high skin-fade and a perfect little fringe. Got to be peng for all the holiday snaps my cousins and my Grandma will be taking tomorrow.

"You've been on my Naughty List all year long!"

I turned 18 in the spring, and spent the summer doing what any normal gay twink would do.

"I didn't do anything bad!" I spat, feeling weirdly defensive all of a sudden.

"Oh yeah, what about Sam?"

"Wha...?"

Sam was my straight Bestie. He let me suck his straight cock a couple times. His girlfriend never knew.

"...nothing happened, I didn't do nothing with Sam!"

"Oh, Ho, Ho, don't add 'lying bare face' to the growing list of misbehaviours, Jack!" he chuckled.

How did he find out about that?

"And you stole your Big Brother's boxers! They're under your pillow right now!"

I felt sick in the stomach. No one could possibly know about that.

"You know the smell of Harry's Big Brother penis isn't allowed for naughty little brothers!" he admonished ruefully, "What happened, Jack? You used to be such a good boy."

Just then a great snort sounded somewhere to my left. Down the side-street a row of reindeer stood out in silhouette. Snowflakes drifted into the scene, despite a forecast of typically grey weather all week. As if in a dream, I wandered over to Santa's sleigh.

"Get in, boy," Santa commanded, shoving me forcefully aboard and sitting me on the upholstered bench, "You know I've been all around the world, and I've seen every cute boy there is. But you're number 1 Jack, no competition! No one else has your smile or your pretty brown eyes. But you're also the naughtiest!"

Adjusting the reigns, he made a few final checks as he spoke,

"I know we can get you back on the Nice List in time for Christmas day, but you have to want it. You have to actually want to be good! How much do you want it, Jack?"

At that moment I tried to jump out of the carriage, but the Giant caught my collar and threw me back into the seat,

"Bad start!" he chided, wrinkling his nose with a magic sparkle.

A collar materialised around my neck, complete with a sturdy leash tied to his armrest.

"I can see you're going to be hard work, boy!" he cautioned, sitting himself on the cushions and reaching for his phone.

Selecting his Christmas playlist, a Minirig jumped to life in the footwell. Donny Hathaway blared from it, nice and loud. Then he pulled on the reigns and our sleigh began to scoot along the asphalt.

Speechless, I could only watch in disbelief as the reindeer's hooves slowly parted with the ground under us. They trotted into the air, lifting the incredible weight of Santa's sleigh and all his presents with them.

"First things first, boy! All that bad behaviour this year! You've been a wicked slut! Cruising for a spanking from the start! And Santa's gonna make sure you get it!"

With that, He bundled me over his knee, tugging my pants right down to the ankles,

"You won't be needing these where we're going," he muttered, flinging my Adidas joggers and new Calvin's overboard.

"No!" I squealed, watching my clothes vanish into the night.

How was I going to get home without any pants or shoes? Santa only laughed at my distress,

"Ho, Ho, Ho!"

Then he gave me my first slap, fulsome and round. I tried to get up, but Santa was having none of it,

"You'll be getting a proper larrup by my hand whether you like it or not!" he declared, holding me down with supernatural strength.

The tiny lights of the city drifted hundreds of feet below as Santa mercilessly smacked me. He really wasn't joking about teaching me lesson,

"Ah, fuck!" I cried biting my lip.

I felt so silly - a grown lad getting spanked like a kid.

"Oh, we're just getting started!" Santa growled, "And I'd better not hear you curse again, or you'll be sorry!"

"Ah, ow!" I continued to whinge - his big hands clapping my cheeks and thighs.

Just as I was thinking I couldn't bare with the sting much longer, he jostled me about in his lap until my little balls bounced out, and started spanking them too! But wriggle and fold as I might, Santa held me firm, dealing strike after terrible strike on my poor nutsack.

"This Christmas... will be... A very special Christmas... for me!" Donny warbled from the speaker as Santa administered his slaps.

"Fuck!" I howled, shot through with the pain.

"I told you about cursing, Jack! You seem determined to stay on the Naughty List!"

This was madness. Santa was real, and he was a dirty old bastard!

Blind with ball-ache, I hardly noticed our sleigh skating neatly onto a rooftop and slowing up. Santa finally released me, and I curled up on the cushions, nursing my nuts.

"We're gonna have to see to that potty mouth of yours," he grumbled, unlacing a boot.

Then, peeling his sock off with a single finger, Santa bunged it directly into my gob. I was too shocked to resist, and in truth a little afraid of what the consequences might be if I did. His sock was sweaty, and the bitter taste was giving me the most shameful boner of my days. But Santa wasn't done. I could only watch in disbelief he dropped his combats.

Of course Santa had a massive dong! It hung in his boxer briefs like an extra limb - thick as a coke can, his meaty bellend leaking a wet patch into the worn cotton.

He rolled his underpants down his legs and proceeded to wrap them across my face, securing my sock-gag in place. The Fat Man's shorts were plenty big enough to go around my head, and leave room for a sturdy knot at the back. He'd done such a perfect job of it in fact that his pee spots were pressed right over my nose. With every breath, his Daddy musk blasted up my nostrils, making my boner dribble with defeat.

"That's what naughty boys who curse get at Christmas!" he nodded, putting his stinky dick back into his trousers, "Now be good while I put Tim and Susie's presents under the tree."

And with a sprinkle of golden magic, Santa vanished down the chimney. Alone at last, I took stock of what had just happened. I'd just suffered the most humiliating disciplinary of my whole life... from Santa Claus! My butt cheeks stung, my balls pounded, and I was gently sniffing on the Big Man's pee-smells as I waited in his sleigh.

I thought about pulling the gag off and making an escape, but it all seemed futile. How would I get down off this roof? I was butt naked from the waste down anyway, I couldn't be seen like this, with a slapped ass and no pants! And what about this magic leash? Would it even come undone if I tried? Worst of all, I kinda liked the way I'd been drubbed. The smell of Santa's dirty briefs was incredible.

Pinched up with shame, the rank sexuality of the moment was just too much for me to contain. Taking hold of my teenage hard-on, I jerked on it furiously - clocking barely twenty seconds of lovely wank-time before Santa was suddenly stood over me again.

"Are you jerking off!?" he demanded, apparently genuinely surprised by what he saw.

"Hmmm," I hummed in protestation through Santa's sock, my stubby shrinking back down under his glare of disapproval.

"More lies! Nice boys don't play with their penis, Jack!"

Another sprinkling of golden dust worked its magic over me, and a brand new chastity cage materialised on my guilty willy. Best believe it was a tight fit - no wiggle-room for me! The spell also seemed to delete my pubic hair. I was smooth as a baby down there.

"Hands off!" he persisted, magicking cuffs to keep my hands behind my back, "I'm going to get you back on the Nice List, whether you want to be good or not!"

I'd never worn one of these things before, and the frustration was unbearable. Like any horny teen, I'd happily nut three times in a row, but now even a regular boner was denied.

I sat next to Santa in that pathetic condition the next two hours or so, listening to his Christmas music and taking in the extraordinary beauty of night. He dropped down this chimney and that, bringing presents to kids on the Nice List everywhere, and growing ever more merry as he went, guzzling each glass of brandy left by the fireplace with thanks.

Something happened to me as I watched him work. Perhaps I was just getting high off the smelly dickspit I'd been huffing in Santa's shorts? But I could feel myself starting to really like him - wanting to show him that I could be a good boy.

When he left the sleigh, the cold drew in and I started to shiver. When he returned to sit by my side it was like being by an open fire. I wanted him near me. I wanted him to handle me. Even another spanking would have been nice. I looked up at Big Guy wondering when he'd notice me again? Eventually, he did look my way.

"lets see if you're ready to behave?" he proposed, yanking my gag down at last - his briefs round my neck like a scarf.

The fresh air cleared my head. Quitting his stink really was like coming off a drug.

"You're not going to swear, are you?" He cautioned me, pulling the sock out of my mouth, and I shook my head in silent agreement, "Good boy! Now get on your knees..."

I did as instructed, crouching in the richly carpeted footwell of the sleigh. Then Santa got his enormous cock out again, bringing the heavy bulb close to my lips,

"Good boys never spill a drop..." he smiled, letting a sudden burst of dark foamy piss splash forward.

I'd never even sipped on piss before, let alone gulped fresh from the tap of a great Lummox like him! But I did my best, gazing up at his hairy belly as the juice gushed down. I fought the urge to resist him, embracing the foulness of it all. I wanted so much to please him - to be on Santa's nice list.

Swallowing at intervals, I got the hot piss down. But it just seemed to keep coming! The liquid overcame me, pouring down my chin and soaking into my shirt. Santa tilted my head back with a soft grip on my jaw,

"I know you can do it, Jack..." he murmured, giving me the strength to try harder.

I was catching it! His long pee was filling me up! Eventually the stream grew weaker, and I gulped the last of it down. Leaning forward, I licked the drops on his fat glans.

"Oh!" he chuckled, "That's more like good boy behaviour!"

Santa sat me in his lap now. The Big Guy was like a great armchair, all comfy and warm. A gallon of warm piss was sloshing around inside me, and I wasn't entirely sure if I felt sick or not? It was all just so weird! My stupid willy fought against it's cage, but there was no way I was getting hard with that thing on.

"Good!" I though to myself, "Stay down! Nice boys don't get boners."

I tilted my head, trying to get another sniff on the undies hanging round my neck. Santa erupted with spontaneous laughter,

"Ho, Ho, Ho! You like Daddy's smell, son?"

"...yeah." I confessed, and Santa gave me an affectionate squeeze.

"See, I knew you could be good!"

We flew around the world it seemed, making stops at every home. On a rooftop in Milwaukee, Santa returned with cookie crumbs in his beard and a whole bottle of brandy.

"Santa's just a little bit tipsy!" he blurted, slinging the booze into the glove box, "Don't you touch that, Jack! Good boys don't touch liquor!"

As if I could touch anything with my hands still cuffed behind me like that! Then he gave me a big stupid drunken grin,

"You know, Daddy's very pleased with your behaviour tonight..."

His great cock stood out in his Trade Trousers, curving up towards his belly. Let loose again, it throbbed itself into an epic boner. With one hand he held a sprig of mistletoe over his cock, and with the other he wound my leash on his fist, bringing my neck close.

"Hmmm, that's it, keep kissing me son," he told me as I lapped his bellend.

But he didn't give me much chance to do any kissing, suddenly forcing me on him with drunken impatience. His dick barely fit in my gob, but he pushed cheerfully, making me slurp and gag.

"Hmmm, nice..." he sighed, holding my head down with both hands, "real nice!"

My heart skipped several beats thinking I might make the Nice List after all. Choking on Santa's impossible cock, I surrendered to his power. Whatever he wanted, he would have it. I was going to be as good as gold. I never wanted to do a bad thing every again.

Soon he was fucking my face to the beat of Mariah Carey's 'All I want for Christmas'. Globs of spit fell off my chin as he thumped out a great hot squirt of festive jizz. I was buried in his white pubic bush a hot minute as he held me close, waiting for every drop to piss thru his dick before letting me go. After catching his breath he pulled me up and gave me another bear hug,

"Isn't it better being a good boy?" He smiled, taking hold of my cage and giving it a rattle. Then he kissed me.

It WAS so much better being a good boy. My head was swimming.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. Endless roofs and chimneys and presents, until the magic sack was empty. A glimmer of dawning light sparkled on the horizon, and Santa's work was done.

"Did we do it, Santa?" I queried him wondrously, "Am I on the nice list?"

"Oh, you were good Jack, but you're not on the nice list," he told me plainly.

This assessment stung more bitterly than any slap. Tears welled uncontrollably in my eyes.

"But I did everything a good boy should do!Didn't I do everything?"

"No," he shook his grand head.

"But, please Santa! I'm sorry I was bad!' I sobbed into his furs, "Please put me on the nice list!"

"Maybe there is one thing..." he teased.

"Tell me Santa!" I cut in anxiously.

"One thing that would put you on the Nice List forever..."

"I'll do anything, tell me!"

"Let Daddy fuck you, baby."

He tuned me right up for this one. Every crafty thing he'd done was leading me to this - begging Santa to bareback me in his sleigh.

'The very cutest boy in all the world..." he muttered, staring into my teary eyes and giving one last kiss on the lips before turning me over and laying me across the cushioned seat.

No more lovely or touching scene of sexual humiliation could be devised. Wearing only my socks and buttoned-up polo shirt, in a tight chastity cage and leash, with Santa's shorts strung around my neck, wrists bound above my red-raw butt cheeks, my face wet with crying. Santa had remade me into something so goodly and pure. I'd never been more ready for a fuck.

He rested his shaft between my buns a minute before getting to it. The heat in his dick was tangible, warming my bum and making yearn for his entry.

It came at last, slowly but surely spreading me open and filling me up. I felt like one of his socks, silly and lame until he forced himself in, giving me life as he stretched me to my limit, to cover him over and absorb all his smells. To say it hurt is to say almost nothing, but I wanted it all. All his dominance and his stink. All his love and reproach.

As he packed my ass ever more deeply, I began to feel a curious new sensation, and it grew stronger as he built his rhythm. His beefy fucks were pushing on everything, and nothing could stop my piss from being squeezed out! I was terrified I might ruin everything and irrevocably displease the Big Guy, striking myself from the Nice List forever. But as the sprinkling of pee trickled thru my cage, pattering the seat, Santa jeered,

"Fuck, yeah! Pee for me, boy!" as if I had any way of keeping it from him.

With each hefty thrust of his hips, another little splash of pee dribbled out, gently soaking his red upholstery. He roared with laughter,

"Ho, Ho, Ho!"

It got him so hot that he was thumping me like a Bull, slapping my ass and shortly shooting his load, so deep it's a wonder it didn't blast out thru my nose!

We lay in a cozy heap after that. The sleigh tore like a comet over tundras and pines. We were approaching Christmas Land. The pretty painted spires of Christmas Town rose above swirling drifts of snow. Northern lights shimmered in the sky.

Our reindeers came to their final rest outside the great doors of Santa's house. From every place, the elves poured out in a cheering throng - hundreds of the sexiest redheads in heaven and earth, all glorifying their King - Father Christmas.

Santa stood to wave and holler. Snapping my leash with a single tug, he steered me to stand beside him.

"Jack did it!" he bellowed, "The cutest boy is back on the Nice List!"

The elves all pointed and laughed at my cage. I made cringing attempts to cover up, but I was still cuffed and bound.

"Don't be shy, son!" He boomed, "you're a gem, let the world see you shine!'

There was no way of disguising my shame. I just had to blush as every elf taunted me. Some even leapt forward to tap the cage as we descended into the crowd. Somehow it tinkled like a sleigh bell at their touch. They were making videos on new iPads and other presents.

Dragged by the leash round my neck, Santa brought me over the threshold of his luxurious home. I couldn't help but notice the chunky ring on his finger throughout the crazy night we'd just enjoyed,

"What about Mrs. Claus?" I asked.

Everyone knows there's a Mrs. Claus.

"Mrs. Claus passed two-hundred years ago, Jack." he nodded sadly, "Tell the truth, it gets awful lonesome here without her. I just need a mate. You know? Every Real Man needs a little matey... I was kinda hoping you might wanna stay with me here in Christmas Town?"

I liked the sound of that,

"Sure, I'll be your mate Santa."

And the elves erupted in cheering and applause once more.

*

Time works differently here in Christmas Land. It only felt like a week had passed before it was Christmas all over again. Santa gave me a little boy's bedroom in his house, replete with the coolest new video games and toys. I get fly new polo shirts all the time, always in gift-wrap like a Christmas present. He never gave me any pants tho, and my silly cage is always on show. Guess I'll never get a real boner ever again. I sleep in a top bunk with Justin Bieber bedsheets.