So it’s a little late for Christmas stories, but fuck it! A Patreon suggestion that I went with. Enjoy 🙂
“Why do I have to wear the stupid suit this year?” Barry asked, but he already knew the answer even as he was tossed the bright red jumpsuit.
“Two reasons,” countered Randal, “a): I’m your boss, and I said so, and b): because I did it last year. Besides, the kids loved you in that thing way more than they liked me.”
“But this thing is huge and I’ll look fucking ridiculous.”
“Hey, are you calling me fat?” Randal was a little on the portly side, even for mall security, but he too would be swimming in the red jumper were he to put it on.
“No,” Barry quipped, and then sat back defeated. They may have had a friendly relationship for being boss and employee, but it still didn’t pay to be on your boss’ bad side.
“Good,” Randal replied, crossing his arms and wearing a smug look of satisfaction he thankfully reserved for only the most inconsequential of triumphs. “Now go put it on and start doing the rounds. It’s Christmas Eve, after all.”
“Humbug,” Barry mumbled as he stomped off to the change room to get into the Santa suit.
Twenty minutes later and Barry was miserable. The phrase “fake it till you make it” simply did not apply to Barry, who couldn’t manage a jolly “ho ho ho” if his life depended on it. Not only that, the stupid Santa suit was more suited for the Arctic Tundra than an air-conditioned mall, and he was sweating his balls off.
It also looked like he was wearing an ill-fitting tent while he was stomping around in boots that likewise didn’t fit. At one point he nearly tripped and fell, which would have been mortifying on top of this already massive embarrassment.
“Santa? Can you help me?” Asked a small voice from behind Barry.
He turned and saw nothing. Then, realizing why the voice he’d heard was so high pitched, he peered down over the white beard that coated his face and saw a young boy – a boy far too young to be without his parents.
“Sure, kiddo, where’s your parents?”
“I don’t know, I’m lost and I’m scared,” said the boy, already on the verge of tears.
Barry may have been miserable, but he wasn’t as miserable as this hid. He took the little one by the hand and shuffled slowly to stay in sync with the boy’s tiny steps.
Five minutes later, after announcing the presence of the lost boy at the second-floor mall security kiosk, little Jeffrey was reunited with a mother so relieved she couldn’t help but squeeze Barry to within an inch of his life, even with the suit providing him a protective layer.
Once safe from the mother’s iron grip, Barry watched the pair of them go for a moment and felt good about his good deed for the day. It’s not often enough his job left him with a warm and fuzzy feeling, and he basked in it as long as it lasted.
Which was about 12 minutes until he was summoned to deal with a shoplifter at the record store. No good deed goes unpunished, he mused, but he counted his blessings. At least the stupid Santa suit wasn’t falling off his ass with each shuffling step anymore.
After spending the next half an hour directing mall guests to precisely which store sold the Christmas gifts they were after, Barry was feeling even better. The suit, miraculously, no longer itched or chafed and he didn’t need to constantly hike up his pants anymore.
The sudden comfort alone seemed to put him in a far better mood than he’d been an hour ago. Now his booming “ho ho ho” sounded like it was full of genuine mirth, if not quite authentically jolly. Still, he was actually enjoying himself for the first time in a very long time in his current profession.
Then he spotted a little girl staring at a store window. She was obviously yearning for the doll in the display, an expensive gift that her mother seemed reluctant to afford, given how she kept shooing her child to follow her and stop staring. Now that he looked, they seemed to be a family that wasn’t quite as middle-class as one would expect in a mall – both wearing threadbare clothes that didn’t quite fit. Without knowing how, Barry could see in his mind’s eye a small Christmas tree with very few gifts beneath it come Christmas morning. The thought made him tear up.
There was only one thing to do. Without thinking about how it would nearly eliminate his Christmas bonus, Barry marched into the store and bought the doll. He made sure the store gift wrapped it with as large a bow as they had, and then he ran out to find the little girl. She wasn’t there, and for a few minutes of panicked running Barry thought they may have already left the mall.
But then he spotted the girl and her mother just as he rounded a bend. They were about to leave, and he hustled over as quickly as he could, surprised by how heavy the suit suddenly felt as he could barely handle a fast jog. He made it to them, heaving for air, the mother’s expression one of startlement just short of fear.
Barry breathed in a few times and then handed the girl the box. “He… Here. Merry – *gasp* – Christmas.”
The girl’s eyes lit up at the gift and even the mom’s expression softened in a smile. “Thank you, Santa!” The girl practically screamed as they left the store.
Barry watched them go. He could again somehow knew that the child wouldn’t open the present until Christmas, and when she did it would make her the happiest she had ever been. It filled Barry with a joy he’d never felt before.
His booming “ho ho ho” filled the mall for the rest of the day.
Barry wore the suit for the rest of the day, even after he technically didn’t need to. He was still wearing it by the time all the stores had closed and he was busy locking the doors and making sure there weren’t any stragglers past closing time. He’d actually grown to like it, and by the end of the day, he could barely tell he was wearing an enormous Santa suit at all.
Eventually the mall was empty and quiet, and Barry lumbered back to the security office. Walking around a mall all day usually took it out of him, but today he felt especially drained. And especially hungry. He’d likely pick up a double order somewhere on the way home. And maybe some cookies, which he had an odd craving for.
He got to the locker room and took off the iconic red hat and then went to remove the fake beard, only to find that he couldn’t. It didn’t feel stuck – it felt like he was pulling his own beard. Alarmed, he went to the nearby wall mirror and was shocked by what he saw.
There, standing before him, was a practically different person. A much, much larger person. His round and bloated body now filled the suit so it fit like a glove, his massive belly barely contained by the suit’s oversized belt. His reflection could barely be contained by the mirror, and Barry dumbly placed his hands on his enormous tank as though for the first time.
How? How could this have happened without him even noticing? Then he thought over the day, so caught up in giving cheer and joy to everyone around him that he never realized what was happening. As he slowly shucked the jacket and unclasped the belt his belly surged forward, making it seem even larger than it was before, his white, sweat-stained undershirt not even coming close to covering the furthest extent of his drooping underbelly.
Dropping the suit’s trousers was simple now that the belt wasn’t holding them up. As they fell he noted powerful, trunk-like legs covered in dark hair. That was something different – he’d had his fair share of body hair before, but this was like a pelt that coated his thighs, knees, even calves. He even saw a dense treasure trail leading from his exposed belly button all the way to his boxers, which he couldn’t help but notice contained a much larger bulge than he ever remembered.
Storing that tidbit for later he struggled to remove his undershirt to reveal the rest of him, and saw that his torso was even furrier than his legs. Chest, shoulders, and even his back were covered in thick fur, while his belly had a sparser coating except for the very center where his treasure trail spread out across his impossibly broad chest. The twin peaks of his nipples pushed through the forest of hair on his sagging chest, a deep crease noting where an expansive belly collided with his breast to make the fat to settle beneath his arms, causing them to be held out at an angle and making him appear even broader.
Barry’s new pelt flowed into a bushy beard as white as snow, which caused him even more confusion. The rest of his hair was a dark colour, so why the white? And then, as though remembering a dream, he realized he’d dyed his beard that morning in preparation for the day’s festivities – a beard he never remembered growing until just now. A beard he somehow knew covered a double chin large enough that it seemed like he had no neck at all.
He vaguely remembered the old Barry weighing a trim 170 lbs. Now… he couldn’t even begin to guess. His scale had long since stopped providing a number other than “ERR”.
Barry stood before the mirror wearing nothing but his boxers and pawing at his newly fattened body for some time before a voice at the door interrupted him.
“Excuse me, but I believe that’s my suit.”
Barry turned and saw a large man at the door wearing a suit similar to the one he had recently shucked, but comically small for the man’s expansive girth. His belly hung out enough to expose a cavernous navel, the jacket appearing more like a vest. Trousers could barely contain his enormous thighs and left most of his calves exposed. In fact, the more Barry stared the more he realized that the man before him had a body very similar to his own. The only difference was the hair, which was uniformly white from head to toe, and his eyes which twinkled even in the dim light of the change room.
The outfit looked ridiculous, and yet oddly alluring. Barry felt a surge in his boxers as his newly enlarged package responded to the mysterious stranger’s presence.
“Thi- this suit is yours?” Barry managed.
The man nodded and hummed an affirmative. “Going to need it, especially a few days from now. People will be expecting me to wear something that’s a little more… fitting,” he said, finishing with a bellowing laugh that sounded oddly familiar.
“This suit… I don’t remember being like this,” Barry said, a look of confusion on his face.
“Yeah, it’ll do that. But you seemed like you needed some holiday spirit, so I let you borrow it for a day. Seems it got you in the right frame of mind, don’t you think?”
Barry thought about it a moment and realized what the stranger said was true. For the first time in a very long time he’d felt good, felt like he wanted to do good, to bring joy to everyone around him. He nodded back at the stranger, and then gathered up the suit from the floor to hand to him, ignoring the increasingly faint thought that bending over shouldn’t be quite the ordeal it was.
The stranger’s eyes seemed to twinkle even more as Barry handed him the suit back. He turned to leave, but then Barry reached out to grab the man’s shoulder. He turned back to see what Barry had to say.
“Um, would you… like to come back to my place?”
The stranger considered it. “It is awfully busy this time of year for me. Deliveries to make soon and all,” he said, and Barry’s heart sank.
“But… Christmas isn’t tomorrow. And what Mrs. Claus doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” the man added, before bringing Barry in for a passionate kiss.
Mark wasn’t entirely sure how many beers he’d had, but it was enough to make him feel like a dirigible. His medium sized gut was pushing ever so slightly out between the red shirt on his torso, and the red pants around his waist. The Christmas party had been a night of excess, and even though he’d ended up on the DJ booth for half the night, he’d managed to eat and drink himself into a bloated stupor, all whilst being in selfie after selfie for his workmates who just had to get a photo with their workplace Santa.
In his half drunken state, he’d been afraid he was going to miss his stop, so had gotten off the bus one stop too early. Directly in front of him, was a house covered in Christmas lights. The garden was packed with ornaments. And by the window, behind the curtains, he could see a large shadow moving about. Chris was awake. Which was handy, Mark thought, as he suddenly realised that his house keys were still in his ‘day-clothes’, back at the office.
Working his way up the drive, he wondered for a moment if Chris would be ok with him stopping by. Just somewhere to be out of the cold December chill, while he calls a locksmith and sobers up a bit. What if the locksmith won’t come out until the morning? He barely knew this guy. Two conversations in his life, and Mark had spent both of them paying more attention to the man’s figure than the words coming out of his mouth.
Spurred on by the buzz of booze in his system, Mark rang the doorbell. As he suspected it would, the melody of “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” rung out behind the door. He hummed along while he waited, remembering the lyrics in his head.
“You’d better watch out. You’d better not cry. You’d better not pout, I’m telling you why. Santa Claus is coming..”
The door opened. Standing there in a dark red dressing gown, green pyjama bottoms and burgundy slippers was Mark. Chris couldn’t help but immediately focus on the white chest hairs visible at the top of his sizeable stomach, which was creeping ever so slightly out of the gown.
“Mark?”, Chris asked with what sounded like faux surprise. “Well, don’t you look a sight! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were my tribute act!”
He chuckled to himself, pausing just short of a ho ho ho.
“Did you come to show me your outfit? The garden gives it away doesn’t it? I can’t get enough of Christmas!”
“Not quite,” Mark replied. “I’m really sorry to disturb you this late, only… I left my house keys in my work clothes. At work. Which is kind of locked til Monday morning. I was wondering if I could pop in for a little while whilst I call and wait for a locksmith? No worries if not, I know its really late…”
“Oh, no problem at all, young man. Come on in!”
Chris opened the door fully, and shifted his hefty frame to one side so that Mark could get into the hallway. As he did so, Mark couldn’t avoid brushing ever so slightly into Chris: the hallway wasn’t that big, but Chris was. Deep down in his big red pants, he felt a tingle, and hoped it wouldn’t show.
“Thank you so much, Chris. I really appreciate it.” Mark said. “I’ll just have to google a locksmith who’ll come out and do an emergency replacement.”
“That’ll be costly,“ Chris ruminated, stroking his beard. “Is the office really shut til Monday?”
“Yeah. I suppose I could get my boss to let us in tomorrow morning. Save myself a few hundred quid.”
“Well,” Chris replied firmly. “That settles it. You can stay here the night.”
“Oh, I couldn’t, really…” Mark protested, not really believing a word of it. After all, emergency locksmiths are expensive, and he could spend some more time with Chris, who was plonking himself down in a big armchair beside the open fire, his dressing gown spreading just enough to let his deep set belly button peek out in the middle of his fluffy stomach, itself resting handsomely on his lap.
“Nonsense, dear boy.” Chris said, even more firmly. “It wouldn’t be in the Christmas spirit if I cast you out into the night with an enormous bill to pay. You can stay here the night, meet your boss in the morning, and collect your house keys without taking all your Christmas bonus away from you! You do get a bonus, don’t you?”
Mark laughed.
“If only… thanks Chris, I really appreciate it.”
“Well,” Chris looked at him with a knowing smile. “What are friends for? Now then, young Father Christmas. Would you like some milk and cookies?”
Chris and Mark both laughed. This was going to be an interesting night…
I hung up and I kept looking for the next article on the list.
I don’t mind that I have my dad’s body, I starting to like this view, I like my new huge belly is so amazing, how much food I can feed in! And I really enjoy it rubbing it, and I like it more after I stuffed to its max.
“Fuck, this shit is heavy” I said as I lift up the bleacher and put it on the shoppingcar. “I think that’s the last thing left on the list” I checked the list “done, time to pay”
I walked through the halls on my way to pay, but not after stopping to taste every product they were offering. *BURRP*
“Uff! I shouldn’t eat that cereal”
“You found everything you were looking for, sir?”
Haha it feels so good being called sir
“Yes, thanks”
I can even pay with my dad’s, or should I say, my credit card. Well, it was hard to learn how to sign with my dad’s signature but I’m so good at it now.
I put all the stuffs in the car and now I’m waiting for the pizza. My stomach is growling like a beast, I had to buy an ice cream. As I said before, I can now eat a lot and I won’t even feel full so easy.
Pizza is ready, my ice cream is done and I’m driving on my way back home.
“Fuck, it smells so fucking good. Can’t wait to get home and eat it all”
Driving and singing my favorites song are the best thing before eating pizza.
“Mom, I’m here. Help me with all the groceries”
My mom came out of the living room, she came near me and tried to kiss me on the mouth but then she backed off and kissed me on the cheek. It would be hard to see your husband but knowing that your son is the one trapped inside him.
We took out all the groceries together and then we called my little sister to come downstairs and eat.
“Hi, daddy” she knows I’m not daddy, but she’s always calling me like that, at the begging it frustrated me but now I think I like it, I feel like a real dad.
We sat together and we ate the pizza, I ate five pieces, god, I really wanted more but the ice cream really bloated me out.
It’s time to watch some tv, I grab a beer on my way to the sofa, my mom looked at me and tried to say something but she cannot say nothing, I’m an adult now.
I sat on the sofa for a while, while I drank four beers, it made me kind of dizzy but I really like the feeling *BURRP*
“Pizza and beer, shit, I really love this” I said while I rubbed my bloated belly.
Mark looked up, his mouth full of the last remnants of the cheap kebab shop double-chicken quarter-pounder burger with suspect lettuce he’d bought moments before diving onto the last bus home that night. For a moment, he couldn’t work out where the voice had come from, until he caught the older man’s reflection in the front window of the top deck. The final bus of the night was usually jam-packed full of people, but tonight, it had been unusually quiet, and the handful of passengers that remained were now all downstairs, except for Mark and this man who had taken an unusual interest in his eating habits.
"It’s been a long night,” Mark blurted out mid-chewing, before swallowing and adding… “Long day, to be honest, mate."
Mark watched the reflection as as the older man stood up, and began unsteadily walking up the middle of the moving bus towards him. ‘Here we go,’ he thought, ‘He’s going to bug me the whole way home, now.’ Except at that point, his eyes glanced down from the man’s jovial, bearded face towards his sizeable midrift – Mark had always been a bit of a chubby chaser, and as he was getting older, he found himself packing on a few extra pounds himself and enjoying the feeling of carrying the extra weight around. This man might be in his 60s, but he was definitely cute, though there was no chance on earth Mark was going to risk telling a most-likely straight old man on the bus what he was thinking right now!
"Ah, you see…” said the man, as he plonked his hefty frame down in the seat next to Mark, “Every day is only as long as you let it be."
The man lent forward, shifting to place some of the weight onto his arms as they rested on his knees. Mark couldn’t help but notice the buttons strain and relax repeatedly on his shirt as the gentle rocking of the bus made them both shake around a little. Clearly, that shirt was tighter than it was when it was bought, or this guy really liked to risk losing a button every now and then.
"I’m Chris, by the way,” said the man, extending a big, wide hand in Mark’s direction. Mark quickly wiped any trace of burger mayo off his hand and onto his jacket, and extended his hand in return – each man grasping the other’s hand firmly.
“Mark,” he replied.
“Mmm,” nodded Chris. “I know all about you.”
Mark shot him a worried look.
“Oh, don’t worry!” laughed Chris, “It’s not what you think! You sold me a phone contract a few months ago, remember?”
Mark’s mind raced to place Chris. He’d tried his luck working in a phone shop for a few weeks earlier that year, but left because it felt overly competitive and corporate, and he didn’t want to chase the numbers. He’d served so many people, and Chris was clearly cute, even if he was three times his age… you’d think he’d… oh, wait. He remembered him. And how he was glad they were sat at a desk because it hid Mark’s erection during their entire conversation. And how he was so enamoured with the man’s big, jolly belly that he’d spent a long time setting up every aspect of the new phone just so he could sneak a longer look at it.
“Ah, yes!” he said. “You happy with it?”
“Oh, sure,” Chris replied. “It does the job nicely.”
“I don’t,” Mark shrugged. “Left a few days later. I work in an office now. It’s a bit boring, but it’s a job, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” Chris said. “It’s always nicer when you’re happy in a job, though.”
“True,” Mark considered. “At least the people are work with are nice. Well, usually."
He decided to go for broke.
"It’s the Christmas party next week,” he added. “They’ve asked me to wear the Santa suit, because I’m the chubbiest guy in the office. Cheeky beggars, eh?” Chris let out an almightly chuckle, his shirt buttons stretching to a new peak as his belly wobbled with each laugh.
“Well,” he replied with a huge smile, “There’s nothing wrong with looking like Santa! And I should know!"
And with that, he slapped one big hand on his belly, making a thunderous clap, and rubbed his gut. ‘Does he know that I fancy him?’, thought Chris. ‘Does he know this is really not helping?’ Chris laughed, nervously.
"I guess you get asked that a lot…”
“Oh, all the time!” Chris exclaimed, excitedly. “Mostly by children, but occasionally the odd lovely adult, too. Lots of polite young women and handsome young men.”
Wait, did he just say handsome young men, and not pretty women? Was he gay? Was he single? And was he interested?
“You know,” Chris continued. “I think you’ll make a great Santa. You have a warm spirit. The world needs Santas like you!"
He looked around. "Oh, this is my stop. Well, Mark, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again very soon…”
“Er…”, Mark was still reeling from his thoughts, and didn’t think this would end so soon. “Yes, of course. Erm… nice to meet you, Chris.”
“And you, dear boy… and you!"
And with that, he disappeared down the stairs and off the bus. Mark couldn’t help but stare out the window at Chris’ house. Admittedly, it was early December, but even that couldn’t excuse the magnificent sight of dozens of individual Christmas decorations, all lit up around Chris’ home, as the old man waddled up the path and in through the front door. And that’s when Mark realised… his own house was just around the corner. Maybe he’d be seeing Chris again sooner than he thought!
I love halloween! It may be spooky but it’s a time for sharing, where we all come together to spread joy through sugary treats. Only some people like to ruin the fun for others. That’s why I brought a new meaning to trick or treating. My enchanted candies may be a treat to most, but beware! Tricks can come in all shapes and sizes.
For my next tale, the story of a disinterested young father who quickly learnt to appreciate making the most of all the joys of parenthood, before it’s too late.
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There’s nothing worse on Halloween night than seeing all the excited faces of children being met by the disinterested stares of their parents, if they can even be bothered to look up from their phone screens at all! So as part of my Halloween machinations this year I of course had to do something about it.
I have seen young Mr Andrews about the neighbourhood and around the town on many an occasion. Yet I am yet to have seen him ever look away from his damn phone! Not to see what exciting thing his son had found. Not to watch him having fun at the park. Not even to help his wife carry the bags of groceries in from the car.
So when I saw him walking up to my door, holding his son with one hand and of course his phone in the other, I knew I had just the candy to teach him a lesson.
“Here you go lad, a nice big lollipop. And I have a Slo Poke here for your pops too! I hope he will have the energy to keep up with you after all this sugar” I chuckled.
As expected Mr Andrews did little but grunt in recognition of the gift and began chewing on the candy bar as they continued their trip around the neighbourhood. This particular candy, as the name may imply, is a little slower to take effect, given just how much it will change my victim. You see the only way to make someone truly appreciate something is to have them lose it.
And so it was in this case that young Mr Andrews found himself growing weaker as the night wore on. He cut the trick or treating short when his knees started aching and he started wincing with each step. Once home he made himself comfortable on the sofa in front of the television, although he found himself turning it up a little louder than usual to hear it.
He was awoken a couple hours later by his wife tapping his shoulder.
“Huh? What the blazes?!” He exclaimed, startled from being woken from his apparent slumber.
“Ha! What’s gotten into you? Just to say, i’m heading off to bed now. Are you coming too since your already falling asleep here?”
“What was that?” He asked leaning forward.
“I said im heading off to bed. Are you coming?” She repeated louder this time, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Oh no, you go on ahead. I’ll be up shortly. I want to catch the end of my show.”
“Ok, but you’ve slept through most of it already. Well goodnight.”
Young Mr Andrews sat for a while longer, looking between his phone and the tv. Luckily all his screen veiwing meant he had failed to notice his more apparent physical changes that were taking place. His hair was turning grey and thin, wrinkles forming around his eyes and on his now larger forehead, skin losing its firmness and softness. He at last put his phone down when his hands started to seize up from all the scrolling, unaware that it was the result of arthritis beginning to spread through his hands and joints.
It wasn’t long before he had fallen asleep again. The changes continued on as his beard turned white and what was left of his hair disappered from the top of his head, leaving only a white collar around the back and sides. His body grew slightly thicker but had lost its definition, a paunchy belly forming in his lap. Wrinkles continued to spread across his body and his skin lost its vibrancy, age spots starting to appear all over him. A few hours later he awoke, again, the channel he was watching no longer broadcasting anymore. He lifted himself up off the sofa with great effort, arms shaking and pain shooting through his knees and back.
“Blast it!” He exclaimed, resting his hand on his lower back as he hobbled up the stairs to bed.
It wasn’t until morning that he was awoken by his wife’s screams and he discovered just what had become of himself. It’s not everyday you wake up to find an old man in your bed next to you after all! After the initial panic and disbelief, they were both left to digest what had occured and work out how to move forward.
To Mrs Andrews credit she did try to make it work for a while. They had to tell their son that daddy had to work away for a while but grandpa had come to live with them and help them out for the time being. Mr Andrews had lost touch with his own father; the apple indeed doesn’t fall far from the tree in this case. But luckily this meant that his son had never met anyone on that side of the family to call grandpa or doubt this new story.
It wasnt long before Mrs Andrews couldn’t keep up the charade anymore. The husband she knew was gone and there was still time for her to find someone else and have some more children. Eventually she left with her son, telling him that his father was never coming back and so it would have to be the two of them for the time being. She still let poor old Mr Andrews see his son every now and again, but the relationship had to become grandparent and grandchild in order to maintain the facade.
Old Mr Andrews had certainly learnt his lesson. He makes the most of whatever time he can now get with his only child. But the visits were becoming few and far between as time went by and his family moved on with their lives. With each visit he realised more and more what he was missing out on by not being there with them. Not only that, but his advanced age meant he would likely no longer be around long enough to see his son grow up into a man himself. He would often dwell while sat at home alone on the things he would now likely miss; his son’s graduation, his wedding, the birth of his first actual grandchild.
So take this as a warning readers, life is fleeting and your children are only young for so long. Make the most of every moment you can as you never know how many there may be left!
Stuck as Santa 