Date: Tue, 21 Dec 2021 18:54:11 +0000 From: Jesse Lawson Subject: Saint Nick - Part 3 Part 3 A work of fiction by Jesse Lawson Please consider donating to Nifty. If you have any comments or questions about this story, you may reach out to jessuplawson@protonmail.com with the story title as the subject line. Saint Nick ascended again to the clouds which covered him completely like so many shrouds. It was much like the many Christmas eves before, but this year he had a new task he'd prefer to ignore. This was his 100th Christmas eve night. His last as Saint Nick. His first time to make a pick. You see, in the Law of the Pole, he was required to find a trainee to fill his role. A young man who could learn how to set others straight. To make the list right. To carry that weight. For next year, he'd be Santa fully. Not Nick. Not Saint. But the old Mister Jolly. His waist would grow, and his beard would grey. And a new young Nick would serve in his way. While deep in his thoughts, he noticed the glint of the naughty list glowing and sparking like flint. "Ooo," Nick thought. "That's quite unique." A kid this special could be the one, so to speak, since it was a rare sight when the lists would sparkle. The thought made Saint Nick almost carnal. He descended from the clouds in wispy cool air and landed in a park full of trailers, broken trucks, and despair. In one little home a light broke through the dark, its ray landing on Nick's black boots, shining unmarked. They gleamed so brightly that inside the trailer a boy noticed them glowing, and curious by nature, he snuck slowly to the window and saw this giant, immense red jolly fellow. He wondered intently, "What's that? Who?" The man didn't look like the Santa he knew. He was tall, maybe six feet and six. And his body was strong, muscled. Like it was made of bricks. His hair was red and full, and his beard was the same. And his arms seemed so big just like his frame. The boy took a step back, rubbing his eyes, and upon opening them saw quiet a surprise. Nick stood towering over the boy, looking around at the sad place which had not a single kid's toy. Nick silently inspected the tailer boy's face and decided he might be the one to take Saint Nick's place. The boy was sweet, soft, and scrawny, but after the Nick magic, he'd be big and brawny. This boy was perfectly pleasant. Small and pale and just barely pubescent. In his red pants, Nick was already swollen. Ten inches of manhood, ready for this tiny boy's colon. The boy saw Nick's rod in his pants and tried not to stare, averting his glance. Nick looked at the boy and thought how lucky to fuck this young fellow who stood only four foot three. The Law of the Pole was quite clear on succession. No helpful magic. No answering questions. So Nick picked the boy up by his wee little waist and laid him face-down gently as his horny mind raced. As the boy opened his mouth to query this stranger, Nick's gloved reached `round to silence him like Jesus in a manger. His free hand he moved to his trousers' buckle and opened them up revealing his giant throbbing man muscle. The boy felt Nick's rod fall on him, knowing what was soon to happen, and he wiggled his body which only heightened Nick's passion. With a swift tug and a wry evil grin, Nick pulled down the boy's pajamas excited to begin. Since by Law magic was forbade, Nick pinned the boy down and spat on his cunt as a weak form of aid. He lined himself up to the pink perfect pucker, and said not a word, pushing in like a rough motherfucker. Under Nick the boy writhed and struggled. Nick tightened his grip, so the boy's mouth was well muzzled. Like a Yule log on fire, he burned in the boy's bum, the pathetic kid's mind swimming more than it ever had swum. The boy tried to think of happier things. Race cars and play dates and castles and kings. But all that he could muster in his mind was how strange the depths felt in him that this man had managed to find. His little prick perked up and grinded into the floor as Saint Nick pounded him mercilessly and mercilessly more. The kid's eyes watered. He screamed in his brain, but his tiny boy pecker was acting insane. It throbbed, and it twitched on its own accord, digging into the floor's carpet sharp as a sword. Nick sensed the boy changing and relaxed his gloved hand, rolling the kid over so he could give his command. "You're doing well with my cock in your hole, and if you keep going, you can live at the North Pole." The boy, timid, nodded, and Nick pulled up the boy's feet to rest on his stomach while he filled him with holiday meat. He put his finger to his lips to signal that silence was still needed and began a more tender fucking than what had preceded. He held the sides of the little kid's tummy, feeling himself enter, sliding in slow as flowing honey. The kid's cock leaked its kid juices which puddled on his belly as Saint Nick filled him with sausage that can't be found at any deli. For the Law's compact to be completed, Nick knew that he must make the kid feel good enough that he'd bust. So he stroked his soft hair and kissed him deep and whispered in his ear, "After I fuck you, you'll sleep." The boy felt like he never had before, and deep in him a fountain flowed up and from his cock it did pour. Streams of sweet boy juices, his very first cream, squirted out of his cocklet like hot frothy steam. He felt tingly and happy and gay, but next in the Law was Nick's cumming without delay. Nick grasped the boy tightly and started up his pace, and the expression of joy and euphoria drained from the boy's face. Nick rammed the boy's pussy with eager delight, as the boy's expression turned nearly to fright. Nick smiled at his boy toy and pounded away, his cock growing even larger as he rode the boy harder than Santa rode his sleigh. Smacking sounds echoed through the sad little trailer as Nick's cock made the boy's cunt fit him like he'd gone to a tailor. Soon the boy was starting to whine, so Nick choked him roughly saying, "Boy, now you're mine." He looked down and watched himself enter this sweet little boy's cunt until his cockhead was deep in the boy's warm center. He gazed down as he pulled himself out to the tip, at his shiny, slimy cock shaft which with the boy's butt juice did drip. He spat on his cock again with relish, and resumed pounding away, his desires dark and hellish. He pounded so long that the after some while, the boy's puddle of boy cum had dried in a crystalline style. It glimmered and glistened as Saint Nick fucked the kid, his hand still choking him, his mind totally undid. When he saw the boy's eyes growing heavy and drifting to sleep, he slapped him hard and dandy like a whore he'd bought cheap. And finally, when the boy was certain this fucking wouldn't end, Nick grunted and grimaced and his fat load he did spend. He twitched as he coated the boy's bowels with his seed, which soothed his aching pussy -- this boy's greatest need. Nick pulled himself out real slow and said, "That was good, you little hoe hoe hoe." The boy suddenly felt sleepy like he'd been up a year. "You should rest now, dear child," Nick said in his ear. The boy's eyes grew heavy as he fell into a daze, his wrecked little boycunt ruined by Saint Nick's dark craze. He yawned and stretched ,and he passed the fuck out, his lips making a perfect little boy pout. Nick picked he boy up, his legs and ass still bare, and put him in his toy sack with the greatest of care. He tied it up tightly and cleaned up himself, and thought, "This boy'll make a perfect Nick-styled elf." He left no presents, and since there wasn't even a tree, he reminded himself, "This boy's much better off with me." He let the boy sleep as he continued his work. After all he was Santa's most trusted clerk. After this eve was in the book, he'd wake the boy gently in his new North Pole nook. He'd train the boy how naughty and nice were categories that weren't perfectly precise. That sometimes naughtiness needed to be a tool used to teach boys goodness and glee. Nick would have a whole year to have his boy learn, and come next Christmas, it would be the boy's turn.