Random Acts of Muscle: Santa Claus is Coming to Town

[Mad Dog]

Here it is, the promised holiday story inspired, of course, by Aardvark's awesome holiday-themed photo booth transformation. I hope I didn't rip him off too badly. Enjoy!!

*****

The buzz of the crowd droned all around Steve as he made his way through the mall. It was almost Christmas and (like always, he thought ruefully) he had neglected to get Christmas gifts for his loved ones until now. As he dealt with pushy shoppers and lines that seemed frozen in place, he considered just making all the gifts he needed appear before him, gift-wrapped, at that, but he knew he shouldn't.

Steve was a very special individual, someone who could change any detail he wanted about the world around him on a whim. It was enough power to drive anyone to corruption. When Steve originally discovered his abilities, he made a promise to himself to never use his power as a shortcut to performing mundane activities, such as shopping or changing the channel on the television when he was too lazy to pick up the remote. These actions were practically the only things that kept him grounded, that made him feel like he was a human being like everyone else and not a god. If he started changing the world merely out of convenience, well, he wasn't sure he would know when to stop.

So he made his way with his bundle of gifts on the way back to his car after a fairly hectic day. It was getting late and his nerves were a bit frazzled when he heard a child crying. He looked over to see a little boy in tears because his father had apparently not known what the hours for the mall's Santa were, because the roped-off "Santa's Village" area in the atrium was now closed. The parent looked sheepish and tried to mollify the upset child (perhaps 6 or 7, Steve reasoned) but it was clear he wasn't having much of an effect.

The next event that happened shocked Steve so much that he was a bit taken aback for several moments. A man, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, turned from wherever his destination had been and looked straight at the father and boy. The sour look on his face said volumes before he even opened his mouth. "Tell your kid to shut up! Santa isn't even real!"

The little boy's visage turned to one of horror as he cried even louder at hearing this. The father looked as stunned as Steve did at the stranger's actions and didn't know whether to punch the guy's lights out or comfort his disturbed child first. The annoyed stranger, for his part, turned right back around and started walking off as if he hadn't just traumatized the boy.

Steve snapped at this. He'd heard enough stories since the day after Thanksgiving of people being trampled for Black Friday sales, disrespectful sales clerks, stores ripping off consumers with bogus holiday "deals," criminals robbing toy and video game stores, he was just sick of it! The holidays were supposed to be the happiest time of year for everyone, but he had seen little holiday spirit on display, especially that evening at the mall. Seeing this extremely rude man disabuse that child of the magical notion of a person out there who wanted nothing more than to give out toys to good girls and boys sickened him. He did what he always did whenever he wasn't sure how to react: he froze time.

All around Steve, the milling shoppers stopped in their tracks, frozen in whatever state they were in. Steve bit his lip and paced a bit in the crowd, trying to think of what he should do, if anything. After all, a kid had to learn that Santa didn't really exist at some point in time, didn't he? In fact, he was a little surprised that some smart aleck kid in his class at school hadn't already spoiled it for him. But looking at the expression of absolute disappointment and grief on the boy's face, learning that people as magical as Santa Claus didn't really exist, made up Steve's mind. He would give the kid Santa Claus, all right.

He turned toward the rude man who had been walking away. A pinched, grouchy face, thin as a rail, maybe 5'7" on a good day... None of it screamed Santa Claus. It had to go. Steve smiled.

The first thing Steve thought should change was the man's height. Not that there was anything wrong with people that height; Steve himself was 5'8". But there was something about Santa Claus that needed to be... large. Larger than life. Kids needed to look up, up, up at him. So did adults, for that matter! The rude man instantly began growing taller. He started filling his clothing differently as he grew proportionately, his pants cuffs riding higher up his legs, his shirt cuffs receding on his forearms, his shoulders taking up too much room in his shirt, his thighs looking like sausages swollen inside a too-tight encasing. As he grew past 6'3" he completely burst from his clothes, he was just too much flesh to be held back by the clothes that had fit him so adequately moments before. And still he grew and grew in height, until he reached what Steve considered the rather stately height of 6'10". Surely that was enough to command respect and admiration from most.

Steve had a tough decision to make after that: what should come next? The physique or the bodily features? Looking once more at the man's pinched face sealed the deal. Steve didn't want to look at this churlish, unattractive man anymore. But he had his work cut out for him. This guy didn't resemble Santa in the least. For one, he looked way too young. He started aging the man, watching the years pile onto him as his skin lost some elasticity, wrinkles growing more pronounced along his face, his hair graying and then finally turning white. Pure white. Snow white, Steve noticed, to his satisfaction. So now he was looking at a dramatically aged version of the rude man. Still didn't look like Santa, he thought. He changed the man's face further, actually altering the features. His cheeks puffed up rounder, his mouth, which naturally formed itself into a frown, started curving the other way, looking rather jovial when at rest. His eyes went from a dull brown to a twinkling, playful blue. The man's entire head actually changed shape, going from its longer shape to a more rounded one, instantly making the man look friendlier by miles. And who'd ever heard of a clean-shaven Santa?! A big beard instantly sprouted on the man's face, growing longer and longer until it hung halfway down his chest. He was getting there, but Steve still thought that the hair was missing a certain something. Then it hit him. It all needed to be thicker. The hair as it stood now was just that: hair. Ho-hum, not ho-ho-ho! Steve increased the thickness of the man's hair, both the beard and the hair on the rest of his body, until it looked appropriately rich, voluminous and soft. This resulted in quite a bit of hair growing over the man's chest, arms, legs and butt, but Steve didn't mind this side effect. In fact, it was right in line with what he had planned.

The creator looked over his work of art and saw... a tall, hairy, bearded old man. Still not Santa. The disparity was mostly caused, he thought, by the fact that the man was still as skinny as he was at his old height. Well, he would have none of that. He decided to whip up something very special for this one, given the occasion. Steve started adding the muscle. Really, it was always his favorite part and he couldn't wait to get to it, but he knew he had to be a good boy and form the other aspects of people before he started adding muscle by the truckload, or they never ended up looking like they fit together by the end. As the old man's body started firming back up, the looser skin growing more taut with the bloom of firm, strong muscle behind it, Steve smirked. This one would be going a little bit differently than usual. Santa didn't look like a bodybuilder after all. And so with the slightest effort of Steve's whim, the bulky padding of fat started to pile onto the old man as well.

Well, wasn't that one of Santa's major features? Steve thought to himself. People thought of Santa and they thought of his jelly belly! Well, this Santa's belly wouldn't jiggle like that, but he'd certainly cut the same shape. He saw the man's cobbled middle start swelling out, the definition on his chest and arms softening a bit as it bulked up even faster with the added mass of fat. If anything, it made the man look more robust, Steve thought. The stark leanness and vascularity of fat-free muscles could sometimes make them look smaller and more, well, scary to a casual observer than they should be. And he couldn't have anyone think his Santa was small or scary in any way. Who should be frightened of Santa, after all? His thighs and butt blew out, adding shapely bulk to them. Whew, Santa had a ba-donk-a-donk, Steve thought as he saw the hemispheres of gluteal tissue bubble up like rising bread dough, dusted with hair like a light snow. His back broadened tremendously and his chest barreled out so much that Steve doubted they made a bra size to hold hooters like Santa's! But even those couldn't eclipse the bulky man's belly, which crested out even farther! It ballooned out like a massive beach ball, but was tight as a drum. Santa's stance naturally adjusted as his thighs blew up, too, his oaks rubbing up against each other until almost the knee!

Santa was huge, imposing, but still Steve pushed his boundaries. Muscle and fat kept bloating onto the man's frame, magnifying it, girding it with firm strength and supple tenderness. Santa was nearly as wide as three men, and definitely as thick as that! He looked like a giant polar bear, powerful and furry. Even through the bulk of the fat, the huge size of his biceps, delts, pecs, traps, quads and glutes were obvious. He looked like a powerlifter that ate another powerlifter. He was tremendous, imposing, masculine, strong... and yet his face said he was stately, regal, friendly, wise, playful, cunning, endlessly compassionate and generous. Steve stood before him, almost shaking. Santa was nearly there.

But it couldn't possibly be Santa Claus without the outfit, no sir. Steve was about to start wishing the clothes into place, when he noticed that Santa was hung rather pitifully, his great expanse of belly seeming to bury his paltry package. Steve blushed. He didn't often think of Santa that way, but looking at him now, nude and mighty as he was, he had to admit Santa had some sexual appeal he hadn't previously considered. He willed Santa's package to grow, filling out until he could see it from beneath the outcropping of muscular bulk. The cock was as pale and fat as the rest of him, looking jolly even in repose as it grew and grew, propped up by testicles that were swelling to the size of jumbo Christmas tree ornaments! A mighty ten inches soft for the King of Christmas, Steve thought to himself.

A package that heavy looked like it could be a hassle to carry around unfettered, so he started the clothing process by giving Santa a big jockstrap with a green waistband and a giant red pouch to keep his candy cane and jingle bells collected and supported where they should be. It also let his big bear bare ass breathe out into the open. Steve didn't think any sort of boxers or briefs would fit over that caboose, anyways. Next came the pants, which were a rich crimson color, looking like crushed velvet as they draped over his enormous quads and calves, and of course, big black boots to keep his enormous feet dry as he walked through the snow. The white furry trim of the pants seemed to blend in with Santa's treasure trail, to Steve's amusement. Steve gave extra room in the back so his booty wouldn't bust through should he have to bend over. Not that a man with a gut like Santa's would be looking for reasons to bend over, but he had to keep good ol' Kris Kringle decent. Well, at least decent by some standards.

Next came the jacket. Steve had to conjure up a LOT of fabric to even begin to wrap around the circumference of Santa Claus. He was an enormous, wide, thick man, after all. Steve couldn't imagine a tailor knowing what to do with it all, but since he was only limited to his own imagination, it all ended up fitting him perfectly, the luxurious red fabric covering him up splendidly, the trimming matching his soft, snow white beard. Steve made the jacket a button up so that, if Santa ever so desired, he could leave the top few unbuttoned, he thought devilishly. The final touches were the white gloves and the jolly, jaunty cap on his head, covering the bit of bald spot that Santa had developed from his aging.

Steve stepped back and looked at his creation. He smiled as he took in the friendly features, massive, powerful, beastly physique that belied the giant's gentle, giving, nurturing nature wrapped up in the iconic clothes. But something still felt off. What was it that made this man Santa Claus, after all, and not just the biggest, sexiest, best damn mall Santa that Steve had ever seen? There was a certain je ne sais quoi to Santa that his creation was lacking. Then it suddenly came to him. Santa was magical, right? After all, no human being could deliver presents to every child in the world in one night. Steve had never tried anything like what he was about to do, but he hadn't found a limit to his power yet, so he hoped it would work. He decided to see what would happen if he gave this guy the magical essence of Santa Claus. He crossed his fingers, closed his eyes and wished it.

When Steve opened his eyes back up, he nearly stumbled back. It was subtle, yet powerful and unmistakable. THIS was Santa Claus, without a doubt. There was a... a shimmer to him, almost; an aura about him that made you believe. His clothing wasn't just red velvet, it had some sort of... mysterious thread weaved in that made it twinkle and glow in just the faintest way, so faint it made you wonder if you were making it up. It was in his hair, too, and seemingly even in his eyes. Traces of wonderful magic were all around Santa Claus, filling Steve with peace, harmony and goodwill toward his fellow man. He wondered if everyone who got close to Santa would feel this way. It certainly seemed so. Santa was the jolliest man in the room, after all. Maybe he infected others with the holiday spirit, as well. His cheeks were rosier than ever. And there was a faint odor of... peppermint coming from him? And next to Santa was an enormous brown bag, presumably filled to the brim with presents, that only seemed reasonable in size when put next to the gigantic St. Nick.

Seeing no other way he could improve upon the Christmas icon, Steve decided he was essentially finished. Before he would unfreeze the world and have it continue on its way, he had to make sure that this Santa didn't only look like Santa, but acted like him, thought like him, really, truly believed he WAS Santa, because starting now... he was. Santa Claus would be a real person from now on, not just a pleasant folktale that parents told their children about to bribe them into being good. He wished it upon his creation and unfroze the world.

The moment he did, Santa closed his eyes, taking a deep breath that tested the strength of the buttons on his coat and the quality of the threads as they fought to keep his mighty chest inside. The rude, pinched, joyless stranger had been obliterated in that moment, replaced by the jolly old elf himself. Santa relaxed into his easy grin for a moment before he heard the crying of a child coming from behind him. That wasn't what he wanted to hear, especially so close to Christmas! He turned around and crouched in front of the little crying boy, whose eyes were blurred from wiping away his tears. "What's the matter, little boy?" he asked in his deep, basso profundo voice that shook his belly with every syllable. "Aren't you happy it's Christmastime?"

The boy slowly looked up, confused and hopeful at the same time. As his eyes were cleared from his tears, he saw a big nose in front of him, attached to a round face, with big flushed cheeks, twinkling eyes and a beard as pale as freshly fallen snow covering all yet also letting him see that Santa was smiling from ear to ear. Instantly the boy squealed in delight, shouting out "SANTA!!" for all to hear.

Santa Claus chuckled as he raised himself back up, hoisting his heavy black belt around his belly, holding his pants up. "That's right! And I can't stand to hear a good little boy cry like that so soon before Christmas... Say, you wouldn't want your present a little bit early, would you?" he offered with a wink at both the boy and his beaming father. The boy screamed in assent and the father nodded, giving his permission. Santa gave another jolly laugh. "All right then, let's see what I have for you in my bag!"

He turned around and opened up the giant sack he carried with him this time of year. He reached inside and pictured the boy in his mind as he rooted for the present. The sack was magical, of course, like every item he had. It held the toys of every good girl and boy in the world inside of it, and all he had to do was think of the child in question and the present would find its way into his paw. Once he felt his hand full of something, he yanked it out and presented the kid with a fresh, new basketball with a bow around it. The boy squealed even louder at this. It was exactly what he wanted. Of course it was, Santa thought to himself, that was how the magic worked. Whatever gift the person in question wanted most was what the bag gave him. Santa smiled down at a good deed done and patted the boy gently on the head. "Keep on being a good boy, Billy, and I'll have something for you next year, as well! Merry Christmas!" he bellowed as he waved at both Billy and his father as he closed his sack back up and went along on his business.

Santa Claus loved making a child's day, as he often did on these days leading up to Christmas. He would dress up in his full outfit, take his magic sack with him and stroll around stoking Christmas cheer where he could sense it was needed the most. Sometimes it was a mall full of tired, jaded shoppers. Sometimes it was a soup kitchen where the homeless and hungry had nowhere else to turn. Sometimes it was a hospital, where sick children needed a little love and hope injected into their lives.

But sometimes, he just wanted to fuck, too. His powerful cock throbbed ruefully in his jock. Santa wasn't too worried, however. He never had much trouble finding a good old fashioned fuck. Well, he normally didn't in his street clothes. In full regalia, he got slightly fewer woofs than usual. He turned into a door marked "Employees Only" down a corridor of the mall and worked his magic to change into his regular attire. His iconic clothes changed away to a more discreet red and green plaid flannel shirt tucked into freshly pressed khaki pants held up by the world's strongest suspenders, precariously pressed against his belly, pecs and great big trapezius muscles. He gave his gut a firm rub before going back out into the crowd, enjoying being just one of the crowd. Well, almost. His magic was still present around him, improving people's moods, making them friendlier, more generous and caring. There was still something vaguely fantastical about the giant polar bear of a man, but it was difficult to put your finger on. Just the way he liked it.

He made his way toward the mall's exit, scanning the crowd to see if anyone caught his fancy. If not, gay bars were usually a bit festive this time of year, and he could easily find some good boys looking for a firm and loving muscle daddy bear. And if that didn't result in anything, his compound at the North Pole was certainly not shabby at all. His elves had the builds of powerlifters and could really be sluts for Santa's cock, he chuckled to himself. The crowd was thinning out the closer he got to the exit and he happened to see a young, slender man furtively looking at him. Santa could tell his line of sight was going straight to his belly. He smiled to himself and cradled the bulk gently for a moment, as if trying to adjust it with his suspenders. He looked over and saw the young man's eyes pop out of his head and something else attempt to pop out of his fly. Santa smiled even wider and strode over to greet him. "Hello there, young man. I couldn't help but notice you taking an interest in me," he rumbled pleasantly. His voice could be overwhelmingly imposing if he wanted it to be, but here he was as gentle as a caress across the younger man's ears.

The object of his desire shivered. "Uh, interest? I mean, well, I hope you don't mind me saying this, sir, but... well... given the time of year and all... You sort of look like Santa."

"So I do at that!" Santa chuckled jovially. "The name's Nick. What's yours?"

The young man looked surprised at that name. "James... But c'mon, really? I say you look like Santa and you say your name is Nick? You're teasing me, right?" he asked playfully with a smile.

Shit, the kid was cute. Freckles and curly brown hair and everything. Santa's package swelled further, making a noticeable lump in his pants. "Nope. Nick Saint, as a matter of fact. You must be quite the admirer of Santa, though, because you seemed like you were fixated on my bellly!" he pointed out, stepping a bit closer to James, turning up the heat. Santa was sweating a bit from the excitement of the chase. His sweat smelled like peppermint. And his cum tasted like egg nog, too. The boys certainly never complained about that.

James could smell him and moaned a bit. This guy was totally pushing his daddy buttons. There was a certain... something to him that he couldn't quite place. His red apple cheeks seemed to glow extra bright, his beard seemed to glisten... This man was just otherworldly, almost. "I'm sorry if I stared, Mr. Saint. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It's just... it's so big." Eep.

Santa beamed at that. "You can call me Nick, it's all right. And far from making me uncomfortable, you flatter me! I appreciate the size and heft of my gut... and appreciate good little boys who like it, as well," he purred. It rumbled through his belly.

James was close enough that he could feel it rumble through him, too. Santa stepped closer and James suddenly realized just how massive this man was. At first he seemed all gut, but now he saw the enormous pecs pushing out his festively-colored shirt, the biceps and triceps that looked barely restrained in his sleeves, how wide his back must be to make his torso that big. He gulped. Santa got close enough that his belly pushed a bit into James. The younger man's cock was throbbing in his jeans. The belly had little give. It was serious beef on this bear of a man. "That's... that's good to know, Nick."

Santa looked down the bulbous crest of his pecs and belly at the boy, radiating gentility and kindness. If he hadn't been magical, there was a good chance James would've been so intimidated he would have fled before Santa had been able to say two words to him. But he was letting James know it was okay, that he had his best interests at heart, that he'd been a good boy all year long and this was a long overdue reward. "What do you want most for Christmas, James?" he asked quietly. His was a voice that was still able to be heard among the din of the holiday shoppers.

James took a moment to swallow before answering meekly, "To be big, like you." He didn't know where that candor had come from. He would have never admitted to anyone he'd just met that he wanted to be a big, manly man's man, to be tall and broad and thick and strapping and hairy and beefy. It seemed like the complete opposite of who he appeared to be, but he felt it was who he really was on the inside.

Instead of laughing at him for his ridiculous wish, Santa nodded. "I don't think that's something Santa carries around in his bag, but something tells me you'll have a merry Christmas," he said softly, with equal parts understanding and eroticism. He slid an arm behind James and laid a big, strong paw over the boy's butt as he squeezed it, leaning down and in for a kiss. A kiss that would change James' life. He could hear the boy moan and growl as he started growing, adding pound after pound of muscle and fat, growing hair, becoming big just like his object of lust and Santa grinned. Happy holidays, indeed.

[ttownlittlebear]

Where's Santa I want to me my Christmas wish too..

[vlad]

Definitely one of my favorite Santa-related stories ever. Love that line about how he looked like a powerlifter who had eaten another powerlifter! Yum, beefy muscle daddy Santa!

[Stoneman]

James and I want the same thing for Christmas.

[Mad Dog]

Glad it's found some fans. :3

[Aardvark2]

Your story is shaping up to be far more popular than mine! I'm so proud. I'd love to see you write more, MD, I think your style is similar to mine and that makes me enjoy your stories all the more. Great stuff here.

I had an entire ending with Victor/Nicholas (in street clothes) meeting Coleman/Noel as the Daytime Santa clocked out while the Nighttime Santa readied for his shift. It didn't read very well and I cut it, so I'm glad to see you doing a relatively similar ending.

[ljobenza]

I loved the story but I would really love it more to see much more detail on that last part with the guy growing. It just seems rather tacked on and a last ditch addition.

[BBMikeNJ]

Ahh, a Santa just the way I always pictured him to be, big hard gut and all. I bet that cumnog of his could make a man grow in many ways.

Thanks for that classic holiday scene!

[Mad Dog]

Originally Posted by ljobenza

I loved the story but I would really love it more to see much more detail on that last part with the guy growing. It just seems rather tacked on and a last ditch addition.

I guess it could seem that way, but I just wanted to end it with the reader wanting more, as I think all the best stories end. That, and the focus during the story was always meant to be on the main Santa TF, not any of his further adventures. I just wanted to elaborate what sort of life Santa would be leading. :3

[cutlerfan]

Terrific story! I think Nick Saint looks awesome in or out of Santa attire! Keep up the great writing! Peace!