All Through The House

And All Through The House...

By Bjorn Torson – aka Papa Werebear

I had to work on Christmas Eve, no way around it.  Well, at least it was for only four hours.  Hey, when you’re a computer tech on-call you have to expect it.  At least they pay me well, $80.00 an hour, plus the holiday rate is double time, so for those four hours I just worked, I’ll be getting $640.00 gross and I’m one of the lower paid techs! Well, I think as I get into the truck to drive home in the near blizzard, Bill will be waiting for me with hot chocolate and warm gingersnaps. God, how I love him!

He and I met ten years ago at a mutual friend’s dinner party and we haven’t been able to get enough of each other since. He, Mr. William Elliott, was a 35-year-old, black bearded, just starting to go gray Bear. He was 5’11’ and extremely well muscled, just chubby enough to give those beautiful muscles on his furry body a bit of roundness. Bill was built like a tank. I, one Carl Robertson, a mere furless, beardless, brown-headed Cub back then, was 26 and skinny at 175 lbs. and 6’ even. I was a no muscle computer geek, but that didn’t seem to matter to Bill. His soft gray eyes were full of merriment and saw through to the person inside of nerdy body. Those loving eyes were what attracted me first. I’d found my Papa Bear and true love all in one night.

Well, ten years makes quite a bit of difference. I haven’t gone gray yet but, thanks to Bill, I’ve beefed up and put on fat as well. Both are due to my Honey Bear. He got me into lifting weights AND he feeds me so damn well that I’ve got a bit of a beer belly that I work hard at keeping under control. OK, not too hard... Bill likes me with a little weight and if I really started to plump out, I’d get really serious about losing weight. I’ve also grown a beard a month after he and I moved in together and had it all these years. I’ve become a Bear in my own right. Bill has hardly changed as far as weight goes, and even now with as big as I am, I’m still not as big as Bill is. His hair has changed though, he’s become a silver furred bear and his body is furrier now than it was then. He’s ‘steel gray’ as he calls it, gray with enough black to give it that effect; and it turns me on more than his almost pure black hair ever did.

Bill works by repairing electronics and he loves to build electronic gadgets too. He’s got a head set microphone toy that he built that changes the tone of your voice so that you can sound squeaky high or really low. He’s got all sorts of gadgets and some of them are pretty damned expensive if you went to buy them in the store. He once built a VCR for $20 bucks on a bet that’s higher quality than one selling for $200. Yeah, its case isn’t as pretty, but it works really well. He built our home security system and it comes in handy. We live in a nice house in the suburbs, but you can’t be too careful. We were robbed about three months ago and that's when he built the system. Everything was insured, so we didn’t lose much. Bill building the system lessened the feeling of violation a little, but I still feel a bit odd about it. Strangely, I also found that it sparked some fantasies about being held captive. When I told Bill about it, he gave me the usual rolling the eyes routine that he gives me when I talk about anything just slightly kinky. He’s such a prude sometimes. I said I’d wrestle him to the floor someday and hog-tie him. He just snickered and in a low sexy growl, “That’ll be the day. More likely you’d be the one hog tied after I wrestled YOU to the ground, Cub!”

“Would you please?” I said, in my most pleading voice. He just did the eye-rolling thing so I let it drop. Bill’s a real Teddy Bear and sex with him is great, I love him more than I love life. I really do, I’d sooner die than let him die. He does tend to be on the vanilla side though. That’s fine with me, but I find myself wanting something different every once in awhile.

So here I am, driving home in the heavy snow, listening to the Christmas carols on the radio, thinking about my Honey Bear and the news comes on. There’s a report about some guy breaking into houses right here in town. He’s stealing presents dressed as Santa. He ties his victims up and blindfolds them then he ransacks their home. The feeling of violation returns as I think of my house and my Bear Hubby. It vanishes as I think about the guy trying to tie Bill up. Then it becomes a thrill as I think about being tied up and helpless. By the time I pull into the driveway I’ve got a nice long, fat hard-on just thinking about bondage.

“Hi, honey! I’m home!” I shout. It’s a little joke with us probably shared by many gay couples. The whole traditional stereotypical husband and wife routine juxtaposed with our nontraditional lifestyle. The house smells wonderfully of baked goods. I hang up my coat in the hall closet and go to check the mail. There’s a note in Bill’s Bear scrawling on a little antique walnut table by the door where we put the mail with some warm gingersnaps and hot chocolate. 'Sit down, eat your cookies, drink you cocoa and follow the trail upstairs when you’re finished… and don’t rush it! I’m probably getting ready for you still so give me a couple of minutes! Oh and be sure you’re wearing nothing but a smile when you walk through the bedroom door. Love, Billy Bear.'

He’s in a romantic mood! God I love this man. I see the trail of lit candles in saucers on the stair and suppress the urge to rush up the stairs and catch him getting ready. I’ve got a mean streak, but I keep it leashed. So I sit down in MY chair and one of his light beam activated gadgets turns on the stereo and the Victorian era style Christmas tree as I break the beam to sit down in the recliner. Soft instrumental Christmas music starts up in the CD player.

Our house is cozy and tastefully furnished by Bill. The décor is natural earth tones. I think it rather fits a couple of Bears. He made the furniture in the shop out in the back yard. Electronics is his business, cabinet/furniture making is his passion… well, one of them. I gobble down a fresh-from-scratch cookie and sip non-ready-mix hot cocoa. OK, cooking is another passion of his, but that’s not the one I’m extremely interested in at the moment as I rub my anxious crotch. About the time the ‘Coventry Carol’ is half way finished, I’m done with the cookies and cocoa. I kick off my shoes, pull off my socks and briefly run my bare feet through the freshly cleaned-for-the-holidays cream colored pile carpeting. If I’d let him, Bill would go completely domestic on me; apron and all I suppose. Images of that furry old Bear in a French maids outfit with a duster in his paw and the Grizzly tattoo on his upper left arm pop into mind and I shudder. Yeah, I’m a bit kinky, but there are some things that just don’t do it for me. Now leather, that’s a whole different story, but Bill wouldn’t go for that.

I get up and strip down to my jock strap. Yeah, I’m not completely naked, but hey, I’ve been working on this funky jock strap for two months now and waiting for just the right moment. I thought New Years Eve, but this seems to be the right moment now and it’s just ripe enough to drive him wild. I’m leaking pre-cum and wetting the front of the jock strap nicely, he’ll love that!

I follow the trail of candles up the stairs in the dimly lit stairwell and on to the end of the upstairs hall to the bedroom door. On either side of the door are clusters of dozens of little candles on two platters. The door is wrapped in gift-wrap with a big bow on the doorknob. There’s a note attached to the bow: “You get to unwrap this present early and see what Santa brought my naughty little Bear for Christmas. Maybe it’s a switch or a lump of… well, you can let your imagination guess what kind of lumps he has left for you! Love, Billy Bear.” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that. “OK Santa,” I said, “I’m ready for my present.” With that I opened the door.

The bedroom was dark; I turned on the light and in a brief instant saw Bill, his hands tied behind his back and feet tied as well. He was wearing a leather body suit and hood and was curled up in the fetal position on the bed. It all happened so fast, I caught a glimpse of a big guy in a Santa suit in the full- length mirror by the closet, but it was too late to turn around. He pushed me to the floor with his knee in the middle of my back before I had a chance to react. Before I knew it my hands were bound behind my back with cable ties I started to yell and he stuffed a gag in my mouth and tied it behind my head. I tried to kick and squirm, but it was no use he tied my legs and knees together as well. The hood came next.

He was breathing heavily. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” His voice was amplified and modified with what I recognized as Bill’s headset device. “Can’t have you picking out ol’ Santa of a cop’s line up by his voice.” I thrashed around as much as I could and shouted obscenities that just weren’t quite as effective with a gag in my mouth.

“Fuck me, you asshole? Oh, Carl, you’re gonna be on Santa’s naughty list if you keep talkin’ like that.” He put his booted foot on my head and applied a bit of pressure. “Settle on down now, Carl, Santa’s got a little surprise for little Billy and little Carl this year. Now, ol’ Kris Kringle has already given little Billy Bear here his Christmas present: a nice big Yule Log up the ass and down his throat. Now Santa’s ready to give Carl a nice fat summer sausage from his special gift package.” He chuckled. “Santa and Carl Cub won’t be interrupted by Billy either, ol’ Santa spiked Billy’s egg nog so he’ll be out of it for quite a while. You don’t need to worry none, though, Santa’s not gonna hurt you boys. Hell, Saint Nick will even put in an anonymous phone call to the cops when he’s finished with his gift giving… and taking.” He chuckled again and continued, “You’ll be found all nice and tied up like a Christmas goose. Santa wouldn’t want you nice Bears to starve to death.” He chuckled again.

I heard him crack open a beer and take several gulps. I heard the rustle of clothes and the unlacing of his boots. “Santa’s kinda hot and thirsty after catchin’ such a cute couple of Bears. Yep, hot and thirsty in more ways than one. Ol’ Saint Nick’s gonna slip out of his suit and get some real refreshment; Santa’s pretty damn sick of milk and cookies!” I heard him down the can, crush it, throw it aside and open another. He downed that one too. Good, let him get drunk. He’ll get sloppy and even if I can’t take advantage of his mistakes, he’ll leave lots of forensic evidence behind. “Now,” he said “Santa’s gonna move your fine fuck-hole of a Bear lover off of the bed so little Carl can sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what he wants for Christmas.” I heard him grunt as he moved something. I realized it was Bill when I felt the thud next to me. Then, he started man-handling me onto the bed. I felt his sweaty naked body next to mine. He must be pretty furry too because it tickled me as he came into contact with my torso. I felt his hard hot cock against my upper arm. “Now, here’s the deal Carl. You be a good little Cub and do what you’re told and nothing bad is gonna happen, do you understand?” he said, huffing and puffing. The sound of his breath through the voice-altering gadget was a bit like Darth Vader. I nodded.

“Good,” he said, “’cause Santa wouldn’t want to hurt you cause you did something stupid like biting old Nick’s cock or tongue when he puts it in your mouth. You be a good little bottom Bear and maybe ol’ Papa Claus will leave you your computer. It’s probably not worth tryin’ to fence anyway. You think about that, ‘cause I could beat the shit out of you and just leave you two tied up if you're bad. No one’s gonna come looking for you for quite a while. Billy Bear tried to feed me a line about his lover being a big brute of a Navy Seal and how you’d come home and kick my ass and shoot my brains out. I half believed him, ‘cause you can’t be too careful… until I saw your picture. I knew you weren’t a tough guy when I saw that picture. I figgered you for a computer geek and I guessed right, didn’t I?” I lay there, tears in my eyes thinking about my poor Bill and what he must have gone through. “Well? Answer me Cub! he yelled through the mike and there was a bit of distortion. “You’re a geek aren’t you?” I nodded.

“Well, Santa has a long night planned for you and me. Billy over there’s not much fun at the moment. I think I want to move Billy into the guestroom and let him sleep it off. I kinda liked fuckin’ him while he was unconscious, but that wasn’t nearly as much fun as when he was awake and fightin’ it.” He got up and I heard him open the door and drag Bill down the hall, open the guestroom door, drag Bill in and shut the door behind. He came back in humming ‘Jingle Bells’. “OK, Ol’ Santa’s gonna remove your hood and blindfold you. So roll on you belly and make it easier for me.” There was no sense in fighting it. This big fucker was going to rape me and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I flipped over on my belly.

“I’m gonna take the hood off, but don’t you even try to take a look around or I’ll stick a finger in your eye, got it?” I nodded again. He removed the hood slowly. Breathing was much easier now. He blindfolded me and started tying my wrists with something that felt like silk. Once my wrists were secure, he cut the cable tie that was cutting into my skin. He did the same for my ankles and didn’t replace the tie there. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way Carl,” he said in a softer tone of voice. “After Bill relaxed, he started getting a huge boner. You’re a lucky man; he’s quite a well-hung stud. He’s not as big as good ol’ Nick, but he’s pretty damn impressive. Anyway, after he got used to the idea, he started havin’ a real good time. I made him shoot all over himself and he was gruntin’ like a Grizzly as I toweled him off with my tongue, cleaned his gun barrel and scrubbed out his hole. I fucked him up the ass and he sighed with a big ol’ smile on his face when I was done. So, you can think of this as being raped or you can just think of this as a heavy bondage scene. It’s your choice. Which is it?"

My mind was reeling. I was so confused. The images he painted in my mind of Bill, bound in leather and having sex, were making me hard. He offered me a choice and it was so tempting. He was in complete control of me and I was going to be fucked either way. If I resisted, he’d enjoy it anyway; he as much said so. If I complied, he’d enjoy it just as much. I didn’t want to ‘cheat’ on Bill. I loved him, but what ‘Santa’ was doing to me was turning me on whether I liked it or not. This was the rough kinky sex that was the core of my fantasies. Like it or not, this thief was giving me what I craved from Bill. Suddenly his lips were on mine and he was penetrating my mouth with is tongue. Out of reflex I opened wide, his beard melded with mine as he roughly French kissed me; chewing gently on my tongue and forcing his down my throat. He broke the kiss. “Open your mouth wide.” He growled through the headset speaker. I complied. I felt his warm, beer flavored drool start to fill my mouth and, God help me, I liked what he was doing to me. Then he went back to deep kissing and at that moment I gave in.

This guy might be a thief, but he was also a great kisser and I’m a sucker for a great kisser. It is one of the things that I love about Bill. He opened up another Beer, took a big swig and put his lips to mine. He filled our mouths with the bitter brew. It was apparently from our fridge because, though I don’t particularly care for beer and don’t drink it nearly as often as Bill does, I can recognize a good brand and this tasted like the Sam Adams or Pete’s Wicked Ale that Bill likes. It couldn’t be though, because those don’t come in cans. Bill must have bought something different, maybe Asahi, because I doubt ‘Santa the Cat Burglar’ would bring is own beer to rob a house. He shared three cans of the stuff with me this way and I was feeling rather relaxed by the time he gulped down the last of it.

“Haaah! That was good! See, ol’ Santa’s not such an inhuman monster after all, is he?” I held my tongue and didn’t add that thieves didn’t have to be inhuman monsters, but they are still thieves.

Before I could have another thought, Santa was chewing on my jock strap and was getting it all wet. He was nuzzling my balls and biting at the head of my cock. I was as hard as blue steel now and Santa was sniffing and snorting and rubbing his beard into my crotch. He was sucking the head through my jock strap and I was wetting it down from the other side with pre cum. I was grunting just the way he said Bill did. He pulled the strap off with his teeth and began lapping at my balls. He spread my cheeks and began pushing his tongue into my ass hole. He was tongue fucking my ass and massaging my prostate with his rough, callused paws from the outside at the same time. He was grunting and snuffling like a Grizzly himself. I was going mad, I didn’t want to have any feelings for this animal, this intruder, this violator; but I couldn’t help it, he was making me horny and satisfying me by doing things to me Bill never did.

Insane thoughts flashed briefly through my head and were dismissed instantly. Still, thoughts like leaving Bill and going on the lamb with this criminal or not calling the police and inviting him back some night when Bill was away sent shivers through my body. Bill was gentle and a cuddly. He was the love of my life, the reason for my continued existence, the man I would die for and the joy in my heart… and never once did he eat my ass hole. Santa here was a thief and a beast and perhaps a homicidal maniac for all I knew, but damn he was so fucking, drive-me-out-of-my-fucking-mind good at rough foreplay. He sensed I was about ready to cum. He licked his fingers and shoved them up my ass and then dove on my cock. He gnawed and sucked and I screamed out in ecstasy as I shot load after load into his waiting mouth. I came forever it seemed. He didn’t swallow, he moved up to my mouth and shared my cum with me in a salty sloppy kiss.

“Now, Santa Bear wants some tender Cub ass,” he said after he’d put the headset back on. I felt his monster cock as he began rubbing all over my crotch. He must have been hung like a horse. He’s said he was bigger than Bill and now I believed him. “First, though, Santa’s gonna open a little present for himself. I heard him unwrapping something, I heard something like paper tearing, he spat, there was a pause and then I heard him flick a lighter and start puffing. He blew cigar smoke in my face. Bill had given up cigarettes ages ago and I didn’t smoke. It was strong, pungent and made me cough.

“OK, now Santa’s gonna squat down over your face and bury your mouth in my big furry balls. Santa’s been a little busy in the workshop lately and he hasn’t had a chance to shower. He’s been buggering his elves and little helpers so ol’ Saint Nick’s crotch is nice and ripe. Be a good little Cub and give Kris Kringle’s low hangers a warm tongue bath.” He chuckled, then grunted as he positioned his sack over my face. His musk was strong; Bill was always freshly showered. The scent was fanning the flames of my lust. I began licking his furry nut-sack. “Yep, Santa’s got something nice in that bag of his for you. Why don’t you feel around with your tongue and see if you can guess what they are. Ahhha, yeah! That’s right, Santa’s got a couple of footballs in his sack for you.”

He puffed a couple of times and blew it down toward my face. I took his balls into my mouth, rolled them around and sucked. He groaned in pleasure. He pulled them out of my mouth. “Now, Santa’s gonna give you a candy cane to suck on, because you been such a good little Cub.” He started rubbing my lips with his bulbous head; smearing pre cum all over them. I opened wide and he thrust into my throat suddenly. He began humping my face. “Ho, ho, ho!” He bellowed then grunted as he began fucking my face faster. My tongue worked his shaft and head as it slid in and out of my mouth. He was getting close to the edge of orgasm. “Santa’s gonna pull out. He doesn’t want to cum just yet.”

I couldn’t believe I wanted more of him. He couldn’t possibly rape me now; I WANTED him and felt that he wanted me as much. I’d never been unfaithful in all the time Bill and I had been together, but guilt would have to wait until after this beast had fucked me and I was satisfied. I was far too worked up now to think about consequences. He reached down and untied my ankles. “Spread wide for ol’ Nick, Carl, Santa wants to give you that summer sausage he promised you earlier.” I obeyed without hesitation. “Good, Cub. Billy was just as cooperative as you are, but he said you wouldn’t be.”

I thought again about Bill tied up in leather and my dick twitched. He re-positioned himself over me. I felt his furry body rubbing against me as he moved. I guessed we were face to face, I could smell the cigar smoke he was puffing out as he breathed and felt his hard moist cock against my belly. His hands were planted on the bed on either side of my upper arm. He lifted one of them and spat three times into his palm; he began rubbing his spit into my ass hole. His meaty fingers worked into me. “You’re well broken in, Cub. You’re Billy Bear must fuck the shit out of you and enjoy doin' it.” He slipped his fingers into my mouth. “Clean Santa’s paw off.” I dutifully licked his fingers clean. Suddenly his cock was up my ass. He wasn’t as big as I had thought because I didn’t feel the pain of being stretched, but he WAS big. “Santa’s gonna long dick you for a while. After that, we'll see. Santa was thinkin’ about jumpin’ in the sleigh and visitin’ somebody else, but he might stick around for a three way with you and Billy Bear, we’ll see.”

He began a slow long fuck and every time he or I would come close to shooting he’d stop and cool down. This went on for what seemed like hours. It had to be at least one hour because he went through three cigars AND another can of beer that he shared with me mouth to mouth as he’d done earlier. Finally he said, “Santa wants to cum. Santa wants to fill little Carl with the Christmas spirit!"

He began speeding up and with his huge right paw he began jerking me off at the same time. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him into me. He growled and was puffing hard on his cigar. The beer, smoke and lust intoxicated me. I began to moan and tremble, Santa was banging me hard and his balls were slapping my butt. He let out a howl and we both came. I felt his hot seed filling my void, his warmth deep in my core. I knew I was shooting all over him because he was rubbing my dick against his belly as I shot. “Santa wants to wear your Cub cum all over himself.” I heard him rubbing my cum all over his furry chest and belly. He lowered himself on top of me and rubbed our bellies together. We were both spent.

“Merry Christmas,” he said and kissed me. He pulled out and got off of the bed. I heard him start gathering up things in the room. “Well, Santa has several stops to make before dawn. You were great, Carl, and so was Billy; but I’m afraid we won’t have time for that three way. I’m going to check on ol’ Billy Bear to see that he’s all right and then I’m a memory. I’m gonna have to tie your legs together so you can’t get up and move around. Besides, you might hurt or kill yourself trying to go down those stairs and ol’ Saint Nick may be a thief and guilty of buggery, but he’s not a murderer.”

I heard him put his cigar out, get dressed, and open the door. “Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night! Ho, ho, ho!” He kissed me again, then he shut the door and went down the hall. I heard him talking to Bill and apparently Bill was conscious because I heard him answer. I heard him go down stairs, open the front door and then he was gone. I lay there on my back, tied up, blindfolded and alone. I called out to Bill, but I got no answer. He had probably gagged or drugged him again. He probably had to, Bill had a loud deep voice when he wanted to and could be heard from outside if he shouted. The conflicting emotions for both Bill and Santa began to wear on me and I don’t know why, but I began to cry. Guilt, longing, loyalty, lust, love, violation, anger, helplessness and a whole list of other feelings warred within me. All I wanted was to be held close and comforted, but there was no one here to do that. I cried myself to sleep.

When I woke, I was no longer blindfolded and tied and Bill’s big furry arms were around me and I was nestled down in his chest fur. Had it all been a dream? No, there were the marks on my wrists. “Bill, wake up! Are you all right, love? Are you hurt?”

He woke. “What?” he said groggily.

“Bill, I said, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, what’s the matter?” he said.

“What’s the matter? Are you still drugged? We were robbed and fucked by the guy who has been going around breaking into homes. You know, the guy on the news, that Santa burglar guy.”

Bill got a big grin on his handsome face. “Well, then maybe ol’ Santa will come back and give us that threesome he promised you before he left. What was it he said before he kissed you... ‘Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night?’”

“How did you know about that?” I said. He rolled his eyes and reached over and bit my nose.

“You are SO dense sometimes!” He smiled and kissed my nose this time. “Smell my breath.” He breathed in my face and I smelled cigar and beer. He grinned widely as I finally put two and two together and almost got four. “Ho, ho, ho!” he growled “Did you like your Christmas present? One whole night of leather, cigars, and sex with Santa?” He smiled sweetly.

“But, who was in the leather outfit on the bed.” I asked. “Nobody, that was a mannequin and the second part of your Christmas gift. It fits me perfectly and so I know it will fit you just as well. That’s your new slave wear.” He smiled again. “Carl, you and I have been married for ten years and I haven’t been very attentive to your needs,” he said softly.

“But, you’ve given me so much.” I said, tears in my eyes. He kissed me and hugged me to his chest, burying my face in his fur.

“Yes, and now I’ll give you more. You can be Santa’s special little helper anytime you want to be.” He grinned evilly as he pulled me away from his chest and looked me I the eyes. “I’ve never told you this, but before you and I got together, I was quite the Leather Bear. I was one bastard of a Papa Bear and all those slaves I topped loved me; but they loved the bastard, not me. I tried to get involved with a couple of them over the years, but they wanted me to be an asshole 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 a year… with February 29th off for good behavior on leap year. They didn’t want to get to know the rest of me. They said they liked me better with a whip in my hand than a cookie sheet. It was so superficial with everyone, so plastic. I don’t know how to explain it, I guess I never really loved those guys I was with. It never meant much. Yeah, I got my rocks off, but it wasn’t... meaningful.”

“When I met you, you loved the man I was not the icon I could be and I was damned sure you wouldn’t get a chance to fall in love with the icon. I especially hid it from you when I found out how it turned you on. I loved you so much; I didn’t want you to fall in love with someone else; the other side of me that is ‘Bear Vader’. But when we got robbed I started thinking about it. I decided that we’d been together this long, you loved me and probably would even if I showed you my incredibly attractive other side.” He smiled at that and chuckled softly. “When I saw how concerned you were for ‘Billy Bear’ and at the same time how ‘Santa’ turned you on despite your feelings, I knew I couldn't withhold from you what you craved. It would be like setting a dish of ice cream in front of a child and telling him he couldn’t have any. After ten years, you will finally get the whole package, the complete me.”

“I love you so much and I don’t say it nearly enough,” I said, wiping tears of joy from my eyes. We were both red-hot for each other again and knowing Bill’s full potential made me even hungrier for him.

We made love all morning and at about noon we opened presents and had lunch. We went out to the most expensive restaurant I could find the next night as my extra special unplanned Christmas present to Bill. Later that night, ‘Santa Bear’ made another visit to our house and we had a post Christmas bondage treat. I was definitely on Santa’s ‘Naughty’ list from now on.

Copyright © 1999-2004 - Bjorn Torson
Any and all re-use prohibited without explicit permission.

A Christmas Treat

A Christmas Treat

by

UrsusMajr

“Ho, ho, ho!” the deep, basso voice boomed out across the huge workshop. Row upon row of diligent elves busily assembled toys and gadgets, while others restocked supply bins and carried off the finished articles to be wrapped. “No slacking off now! We've only a week to go. Hurry, hurry... think of the children!”

“Think of the children,” Doc muttered sourly under his breath. “Think of the children, he says. Fuck the children.” The elf shoved another battery cover on yet another Android tablet. Doc slowly turned his head to the right and caught the eye of Sneezy, the elf at the workstation next to his. “Did you talk to Sleazy? Did he say it's ready?”

“Aaaaaaa-----CHOO!” Sneezy made his signature reply to any question put to him. Doc wondered why the big guy kept him on. Every toy and gadget he produced was covered with a fine spray of bacteria and virii from Sneezy's nose. “Yeah, I seen him, and yeah, it's ready. But I'm scared, Doc, what if...”

“Keep your voice down, dammit!” Doc whispered fiercely, nodding slightly in Santa's direction. “You want him to hear?”

“But what if it doesn't work? What if the dose isn't big enough? What if Mrs. Claus...” Sneezy whimpered quietly.

“Shut it, wuss. It'll work, I tell ya. And Mrs. Claus ain't comin' back. Christ, do you EVER listen to anything I tell you?”

“Aaaaaaa-----CHOO!” Sneezy wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Of course I do, but I don't understand how....”

“You don't have to understand. The broad is shacked up with that Fabio dude in Barbados, at the resort.”

“But how do you know...”

“Idiots. I'm surrounded by idiots.” Doc shook his head and sighed. “I know, because the bitch wrote him a letter, like I told you last time. Thank the gods she doesn't text. Larry in the mail room spotted it, read it, and brought it to me. Larry is smart. Unlike you.”

“But...”

“Do me a favor and 'but' me no 'buts'. She said she was sick of snow and sick of baking cookies, sick of cleaning out the hair trap in the shower every day, and sick of us. She met this Fabio when she took a snorkeling class at that resort, there was 'chemistry', to use her term for it, and they been banging away ever since. Apparently, smooth snorkel instructors have a thing for hefty babes. She got a job in Reception at the hotel, and they're shacked up. She's invoking the pre-nup and ditching Mr. Ho Ho Ho.”

“But... he's still so jolly. Doesn't he know?”

“Now, why would he know? Larry brought the letter to me, remember? I burned it. He doesn't know. Now shut your gob. He's saying something.” Doc and the other elves stopped their work and turned towards the dais at the front of the workshop.

Santa stood up, the overhead light glinting on the thick fur on his bare forearms and hands. Santa liked to look like a hard worker, and doffed his coat and rolled his sleeves up when indoors. “I do believe I will take a short break. Elves, keep working hard! There's LOTS of good boys and girls to make happy! Busy, busy, busy! Think of the children.”

“If I hear that phrase one more time...,” Doc muttered, enunciating each work with a voice that dripped with venom and promise.

Santa climbed off of the huge chair he customarily sat in and made towards the staff lounge door. As he pushed the door open, Sleazy quietly entered through another door from the kitchen, close to Doc's workstation. He pushed a wheeled cart with a large, steaming mug perched on it.

“Did you put the stuff in it?” Doc demanded, somewhat louder now that Santa was out of earshot. Sleazy nodded. “Did you remember the little marshmallows? He likes the little marshmallows.” Again, Sleazy nodded. “Good. OK, let's do this!” The stocky Doc jumped down from his stool and walked ahead of Sleazy as he wheeled the mug towards the lounge.

“Stand aside. Hot stuff comin' through. Step aside. Move out of the way, you stupid little troll,” Doc snarled, kicking aside one unfortunate small elf who was new on the job this year. He reached the door and pushed it open, calling out in a falsely sweet voice, “Oh, Santa... here's your hot cocoa. Now, you sit down and take a load off those aching feet.” He turned to Sleazy and growled, “Come on, get a move on!”

“Does it have little marshmallows?” Santa settled himself in his big red recliner and turned the roller massage mechanism on.

“Of course it does, boss. You know we wouldn't forget the little marshmallows.” Doc stepped aside as Sleazy wheeled the cart up to Santa's recliner. “And we didn't forget something else, either,” he muttered to himself.

Santa sipped. “Ahhhhhhhhh! That is so good! Now, don't let me keep you boys from your work. Go on now, back at it. Think of the children.”

Doc balled his small fists. His face distorted with rage and he started to turn towards the bearded demon. Sleazy shot his arm out and gripped Doc's shoulder. “Don't! You'll spoil everything!” he hissed. Doc took a deep, centering breath and calmed himself, squared his shoulders and quick-stepped out of the lounge.  He looked around.  “You! Doper! Keep an eye on the clock. Tell me when 30 minutes is up!” He stomped back to his workstation.

Work continued somewhat erratically, and nearly all the elves kept one eye on their work and one eye on the clock. Doc kept nervously playing with the tablet he was assembling, inserting and removing the on/off switch repeatedly. “Did you put in the full dose I gave you?” He eyed Sleazy.

“For the fourth time already, YES. All of it, and I stirred up real good and put in extra sugar to help hide the taste. I still think it would have gone better in the eggnog.” Sleazy had argued that point with Doc for weeks prior, but Doc had been adamant.

“If we change his routine, he'll get suspicious. He has cocoa at breaks, eggnog when he's working at that disaster of a workstation of his. Besides, the nog comes in a carton, nasty stuff. He adds the rum himself from that flask he thinks no one knows about. But we make the cocoa from scratch, so we can doctor it.”

“Heee heee heee....”

“What?” Doc demanded.

“You said 'doctor', only, see, that's funny because you're Doc and and you said 'doctor.”

“Oh, great. Now I'm a comedian. I'll go on Saturday Night Live.” He stopped as Doper nudged him.

“Psssst! It's time.”

With that, Doc hopped off his stool and cleared his throat. “OK, guys! Let's go!”

The elves downed tools and hopped off their stools. They trooped behind Doc, who marched straight towards the Staff Lounge door. Slowly, he pushed the swinging door open and peered inside. Seeing Santa snoring loudly in his recliner, the spilled cocoa mug lying on the floor, the dregs of the drink pooled on the floor. He quietly walked up to the large body and nudged the large man's booted foot.

“Oh, Santa! Santa!” No response. Santa snored on.

This time, Doc shook Santa's boot. “SANTA!” he shouted.  Still no response.

“Excellent! The fat fart is out cold. You,” he said, pointing at Doper, “go tell Horny to bring in the pallet lifter. The rest of you help get this furniture pushed back against the wall. Sleazy, get two guys to hold the doors open for Horny, then you check the living room out front. Make sure the door's locked and the drapes pulled tight.” Doc turned to Humper. “Take some guys with you and go out and make sure those damned hay-burners have enough feed. I don't want them kicking down the back doors because they're hungry.” Humper scrambled to obey.

Once the furniture was out of the way and the pallet lifter in position, Doc motioned Horny forward. He slipped the twin arms of the lifter under the large recliner, then pumped the handle to raise the load. The lifter creaked. “Fucker's heavy,” Humper grunted. When the recliner was clear of the floor, the elves all crowded around and helped push the lifter with it's rotund load around and out the swinging door and down the hall to the living room of Santa and Mrs. Claus' quarters.

“Oh, shit. You four, go in ahead and move that table out of the way. Make sure the hearth rug is out of the way, too.” Doc was sweating with the effort of helping move the loaded lifter. It was way heavier than he had imagined, and Humper and the others were straining every muscle... and their work wasn't near over. They paused to let the four elves in ahead of them. Once their signal was given, the elves continued their shoving and pushing. The pallet lifter groaned and creaked slowly onwards.

Once inside, Horny released the pressure on the lifter and the recliner and Santa sank to the ground. “OK,” Doc said, “let's get this old fart out of the chair.” A swarm of elves jumped to do his bidding. In short order they levered, pushed and shoved the large man out of the chair and on to the floor in front of the fireplace. Santa snored on, stirring only occasionally.

“OK, you lot... get his gloves and belt and hat off. Where's Sneezy?” Doc looked around.

“Aaaaaaa-----CHOO! Over here, sir!”

“Of course. Take your boys and get his boots off.”

“Eeewwwww! Do we have to?” Sneezy asked. Several of Sneezy's boys held their noses.

“Yes, you have to... and wipe your nose, for fuck's sake.”

Sneezy and his gang struggled with the black boots, finally getting them off.

“Now, the socks.”

“Oh, GROSS!!!” chorused the elves.

“I want this fucker naked as the day he was born!” Doc snarled. “Hop to it!”

Finally, Santa was completely buck, still snoring. A chorus of “Ooohs” and “Ahhhhs” came form the assembled elves. “Don't he look FINE!” exclaimed one. “I'd fuck him!” said another.

“I intend to,” Doc snorted. “But right now, we've got work to do before we play. Come on, we haven't got a lot of time, it took us a lot longer to get him in here than I thought it would. The sedative will be wearing off soon. Are those ropes ready?”

“Yes!” came a voice from the back.

“OK, bring 'em here. One set on his wrists, the other around his ankles.” Doc peered upwards towards the ceiling beams under the pitched roof, looking for Minor, one of the smaller elves who was talented with knots. “You there, Minor?”

“Yep! Toss me the ropes.” Doc did so, and Minor caught them and passed them over the beam and down the other side. Minor stayed in place, observing the scene below.

“OK, we're almost done. Our reward is in sight, guys! Tie off the ankle ropes to the posts. Good. Now divide into two groups, one group to each rope. And haul this fucker UP!”

“Heave! Heave!” The elves chanted in unison and the pulled for all they were worth. Slowly, like some large dirigible, Santa rose, higher and higher, until he was upright, his weight held by the ropes.

“A little higher, then HOLD! He'll settle back some once the ropes are tied off,” Doc shouted. “Hey, Minor... can you manage?”

“Of course I can!” the small elf said, somewhat miffed. “That's why I'm here.”

“Good boy!” Doc looked at the now upright Santa, who was beginning to show signs of awakening. “Make sure everything is tight, but not too tight. Who's got the super soaker?” Two elves who worked in the armament toys section stepped forward.

“OK. Hit him with the ice water!” The two elves took aim and pumped stream after stream onto Santa's heavily bearded face. Santa snorted and shook his head.

“Wha.... huh?” Santa's return to consciousness was greatly speeded up by the streams of ice water. “WHAT THE FUCK?” he roared. Santa struggled mightily against the ropes, to no avail. Minor's work was good. The elves smiled.

Doc stepped up onto the hearth. Earlier in the day, elves had laid a large load of logs in the fireplace, along with ample kindling. He stooped, struck a match, and lit the fire. Flames licked at the wood, and increased as the fragrant logs caught. “Comfy, big boy?”

“Untie me, you little bastard. You are done for, do you hear me? Done for. ALL of you!” Santa sputtered on for some seconds more, before finally running out of spit.

“Humper, bring that stool over here so I can see our boss eye to eye.” When the stool was produced, Doc stepped up onto it. Santa, now supporting his weight by standing on his own two feet, was still held fast by the ropes. He could move some, but not far. The firelight glinted off the thick white fur that covered his naked body, head to toe. His pink skin was barely visible in places, but where it was, it provided a nice contrast to the white. His sizable cock hung flaccid against his ball sack, foreskin partially covering the glans. The tip peeped out. Santa growled.

“Nice Yule log you got there, big boy.” Doc leered.

“WHAT are you DOING?” Santa roared.

“Why, we're paying you back, big boy. Aren't we, men?” The elves cheered.

“LET ME LOOSE!! Or I'll...” Doc interrupted Santa's impending tirade by poking his belly with a poker from the fireplace. The poker was cold but it served it's purpose.

“Payback's a bitch, ain't it? See, we're tired of working all day long, every day, doing all the work around here while you sit on your furry fat ass and get all the credit. It's 'Elves, do this,' and 'Elves, do that,' all day long. Do we get a break? No.  Do we get photo ops? No.  Do we get raises?  Hell, no.  Well, things are going to change, starting now!” Doc poked Santa's thickly-furred belly with the poker again for emphasis. “But first, let me introduce you to Larry, from the mail room. Larry?”

A plainly-dressed elf stepped forward and stood in front of Santa, holding a bulky envelope.

“Larry here is a smart man. He happened to notice some plain brown wrappers amidst the tons of letters from the snot-nosed crowd that usually write to you. Larry got curious when one of the envelopes 'accidentally' tore. Imagine his surprise when he sees the cover of Bear Magazine peeping out.” Santa suddenly stopped squirming and held very still.

“Ah...I see I have your complete attention. Good. Well, interest piqued, as they say, Larry looked further. Imagine his continued surprise when he saw issues of Drummer, and American Bear, and Bulk Male. Oh, and there were toys, too, weren't there, Larry?” Larry nodded. “But not our kind of toys, now, were they, Larry?” Larry shook his head. “Bad Santa.”

“Now, some of us, well, most of us, are of a similar persuasion. We aren't put off by your shenanigans, but really, Santa... the John Holmes Signature all silicone model with battery pack... from CHINA? That's a cheap knock off, not worth the postage. Really Santa, you can do better. I AM disappointed. But I digress. We might overlook your extra-curricular activities, even approve; but somehow I don't think the rest of the world would. Well, most of the rest of the world. The bad boys would likely approve. By the way, we have plans for that list, but we can discuss that later.” Doc looked approvingly at Santa's meat, still flaccid, still half-hooded. “ Right now, we're just letting you know we have the upper hand here. Larry here will keep the evidence nice and safe, won't you, Larry?” Larry nodded. Doc poked Santa's tummy again.

“Anyway, we have more immediate concerns. We are looking for a new working relationship with you, boss.” Doc used the poker to carefully lift Santa's cock. “We want to make more efficient use of your, um, resources.” Doc turned to Sleazy. “Sleazy, why don't you call Randy in now. I think we're ready.” Sleazy stepped away from the crowd of ogling elves and returned a moment later with a short, stocky, thickly-bearded dwarf. Randy was muscled and very hairy, with a bit of a belly and thick legs, a perfectly proportioned small bear of a man. He sported a sizable cock, already at half mast. He stepped up on the hearth and looked Santa over, smiled, nodded, and began to slowly, sensuously, jack himself to full hardness. He took his time, putting on a show for both Santa and the elves. Clapping and chants filled the air as Randy reached down, touched his tip with a finger, and drew out a long, thin string of precum, then brought it to his lips and tasted himself. Loud cheers echoed in the room. Santa struggled with mingled feelings of anger, fear, and arousal.

“Look, boys, it's alive!” Doc pointed to the bound Santa's cock, now risen partially, the hood retracting even as Doc spoke. “But wait, Santa, there's more!” Doc looked over his shoulder. “Andy?”

Another dwarf came out, a near twin to Randy, except where Randy's copious fur was dark brown, Andy's was copper-gold in color. He all but pranced out and joined Randy in a prolonged lip-lock, then began to stimulate himself to full hardness. The two fondled each other, stroking pecs and tummies, butts and back fur, teasing cocks and balls with their tongues. The two then got into a 69 position and began sucking. More than a few cocks in the audience were straining the fabric of elf costumes. Santa's cock continued its inexorable rise as sweat broke out on his brow.

Randy and Andy began to wrestle each other, sweat soaking their fur, the temperature in the room rising with the fire and the body heat of the crowd. Suddenly, Andy pinned Randy and took the accepted prize for such a move, Randy's ass. The heavy grunt from Randy as Andy's thick meat penetrated seemed to complete Santa's rise to power. His cock was now at full staff and straining, precum beginning to bead on the tip. As Andy began to pound Randy's ass, tenderizing his tunnel, Santa began dripping precum. Doc motioned to Sleazy, who got down on his back, scooted under Santa, and tasted the first thick drops. He licked his lips, was still for a moment, then grinned and gave a two thumbs up sign of satisfied approval. He slurped the next few drops, and then was pulled out of position by Doper, who was on his back and under Santa's jutting prow in a moment. A line rapidly formed behind the prostrate elf.

As Andy came inside Randy with a shout, Santa's cock pulsed out a big blob of precum for the lucky elf who was under him at that moment. Randy and Andy traded positions and Randy got his own back, hammering the furry copper-gold rump of Andy. The growls from the two filled the room, along with the chants and cheers of the elves. Santa moaned and twitched, alternately struggling against his restraints and trying to free at least one hand to stoke his own meat. All the while, his cock was pumping out high octane precum for a line of satisfied elves.

“Elves, PLEASE! I'm gonna bust if I can't get some relief. I'll give you a raise. I'll give you vacations. I'll send you to Barbados... would you like that? It's warm there. They have snorkeling.”

“Oh, we're not quite done here, you fur-covered asshole.” Doc paused. “By the way, we should check that out. He's covered everywhere else, so I'll bet.... well, I can find out when I occupy his ass later on. Now, lard butt... let's get down to brass tacks. Precum is all well and good, and by the satisfied faces I see round about me, yours seems to hit the spot. But I need something more substantial. Boys, move me in.”

Four elves pushed the stool up to the edge of the hearth, and Doc leaned down a bit, his mouth right at the tip of Santa's rigid meat. “Oh, my... you DO bring new meaning to 'Yule Log', don't you?” Doc leaned forward and engulfed Santa's fat bulb with his mouth and began giving the man an expert blow job. Within a few minutes, Santa was erupting in Doc's mouth. Doc swallowed and then grabbed Santa's meat and squeezed hard, stopping the flow temporarily. “Fuck me running, that is TASTY!” He motioned for Sleazy to step up and partake. Sleazy in turn motioned for Sneezy, who in turn gave Doper the last of the load. Santa sagged, his cock now at half staff.

Wiping his lips, Doc nodded to Humper, who stepped under Santa, in between his legs. He switched on the John Holmes Signature all silicone model with battery pack (the genuine article, not the cheap knock-off) and applied to Santa's butt cheeks.  Santa clenched, but Humper was nothing if not persistent, and the Holmes nothing if not well-lubed, and slowly worked it in. When the vibrations touched Santa's sphincter, his cock surged upwards. Doc smiled.

“Give me a break, elves!  I'm tired, I need to sit down, PLEASE untie me.” His tone changed as nothing was done to alleviate his discomfort. “You have a contract with me. I'll call my lawyers. Think of the childre...”

“Oh, wrong comment, fat boy!” Doc growled. “You forget you aren't in control here now.”

“But...”

“Put a sock in it, Tubbo. You're ours, now. We're in charge, not you. You'll be let out on Christmas Eve to make your run; supervised, of course. You'll even get breaks now and then. And you'll get to watch Randy and Andy as much as you want... as long as you're a good boy,” Doc leered and ran his thumb around the tip of Santa's cock. The other elves in Santa's sight nodded and smiled. A number of them cheered. Some licked their lips.

“So that's how it's going to go from now on, fat boy. We'll keep you fed with milk and cookies and eggnog and hot cocoa, and you'll keep us fed with dick drool and cum. And your ass is ours. Permanently. Oh, don't worry, we'll still make the toys and gadgets, and load the sleigh. We'll even feed those antlered flying shit-bags of yours.”

“But... but.... there so many of you. How am I possibly gonna...” Santa's brow creased with worry.

Doc looked up at Santa's hefty sack, covered with long, silky white hair, the two large, heavy orbs nestled within moving slightly as his cock twitched.  It was straining erect again as Humper worked the dildo in deeper. Doc reached up and patted the hairy bag. “You're a magical creature, you've said so, many times. I have no doubt these puppies can keep up with the demand.” The elf grinned wickedly. Santa grunted at the tip of the instrument touched his prostate. Humper switched the John Holmes Signature model with battery back to 'high'.

Santa jerked to attention, gulped, and looked up. Behind Doc, the line of eager elves stretched out the door.  Santa moaned.

The End

Bear Shorts #5

Bear Shorts #5

by UrsusMajr

He stretched and arched his back, hands clasped behind his head. Damn, but the sun felt good on his naked skin. He yawned and reached down to scratch his balls. Feeling the need to pee, he considered walking back to the camp, but then thought, 'What the hell,” and arched his back again, turning his hips slightly to aim his thickening cock and the steaming stream it was producing. The yellow liquid wet the rocks and tree trunk and the dead needles that formed a thick mat on the forest floor. Finally, as his stream slowed then stopped, he reached down and shook off, feeling his cock slowly inflate.

'Unff, a good long piss is nearly as good as a solid fuck, sometimes.' The thought flickered across his mind, competing with the good feelings his extending meat was sending to his brain. He casually stroked himself and the pink tip extended beyond the shroud of foreskin, flaring slightly. Desire rose in him in spite of the fact that he had drained his balls twice the night before, and he turned and retraced his steps, heading quickly back to the camp.

His cock jerked and bobbed as he strode back to the campsite, the cool, moist morning air feeling good on his furry torso and legs. The soft feel of the warming air was almost erotic. The thick auburn mat that covered his chest, belly, and back glowed a brighter red where the light struck it in the dappled sunlight. Reaching the camp, he bellowed, “Boy!”

A younger, somewhat smaller version of Sir clambered out of the large tent and stood. The proud possessor of a growing pelt of coal black fur, the Boy's milk-white skin contrasted nicely with the much darker hair. “Yes, Sir?” he asked, indicating both his presence and readiness to serve, and the desire to know what was required of him.

“I need to fuck, boy,” Sir said, gesturing towards his now erect cock. “I want your ass.”

“Yes, Sir. How do you want me?” The Boy was eager to please but also eager to feel his master's cock buried in his ass. Sir was big, but always felt comfortable in the Boy's ass, like it truly belonged there. Sir's shaft was slightly curved upwards and fit the shape of the Boy's rectum perfectly.

“On the picnic table. Kneel on the seat.” The Boy scrambled to obey, and pushed his ass out towards Sir while resting his forearms on the top of the picnic table.

Sir spat on his hand and slicked the thick, throbbing pole. He spat again. He would make this a bit easier for the Boy. The Boy was a good boy, loyal and cooperative; and he had given excellent service throughout this camping trip. Sir had no desire to hurt the Boy unnecessarily, and knew that the Boy would eagerly push back onto his pole if the lube made that possible. Spit would have to do, they had used up all the Wet they had brought along, finishing it last night. Slicked to his satisfaction, Sir centered his erect cock on the Boy's asshole and pushed.

The Boy's ass was well-accustomed to the thickness of Sir's member and opened readily. Sir put his paws on the Boy's butt cheeks and spread them wider, then buried his cock deep in one long slow thrust. “Aahhhhh,” a long, deep sigh escaping his lips as he bottomed out in the Boy's butt. He moved his paws forward and gripped and pulled the Boy back onto his straining cock, seating him firmly. He tensed his muscles, flaring the wide tip of his meat, now deep inside the Boy's rectum.

“Feel that, Boy? Feel how deep inside you I am?”

“Oh, yes, Sir, I do. You are so big, Sir, so hard.”

“Now push back, Boy. I want you to fuck yourself while I enjoy the sight of your back and ass and all the fur you're sprouting.” The Boy complied, happily. The next minutes were filled with a swaying motion of the two bears, one larger, one smaller; the smaller doing most of the forwards and back motion, with the larger moving only slightly, his paws resting now on the smaller bear's back.

“Oh, yeah. That's it. Make me happy, Boy. Make my cock sing.” The Boy began gripping Sir's cock with his ass muscles as he pulled forward, and relaxing with each backwards thrust, milking Sir's throbbing pole. Every once in a while, Sir would flare his tip and the Boy would grunt with satisfaction.

“OK, Boy, you got me close now... I'll drive.” Sir put his paws back on the boy's rump and held him still while he thrust deep and hard into the Boy's core, pumping ever faster, driving hard towards his climax, straining forward to shoot his powerful seed deep in his Boy's ass. His cum boiled up in his balls, churning towards release. He felt the familiar tingle start deep in his shaft and travel along with the fluid up the shaft to be expelled with a strong contraction that pulled his balls up tight and forced a deep growl out of his gut.

“Oh, FUCK yeah!!” Sir growled, hauling the Boy's butt back as his hips thrust forward. Another deep growl shook his body as he continued to unload in the Boy's ass. As the spasms subsided the Boy held still. He knew better than to pull off Sir's pole until he was released to do so once Sir was completely drained and satisfied. The Boy never minded this, loving as he did the feeling of fullness and possession Sir's thick cock inside him conferred.

Sir reached forward and squeezed the Boy's shoulders and slowly pulled his meat out of the Boy's warm tunnel. “Good boy. That was really fine. Nothing like a fuck in the outdoors, is there?” The Boy agreed. Sir motioned for the boy to stand. He did so, squeezing his butt cheeks to avoid losing any of Sir's seed on the ground as he stood. He looked at Sir's face, searching with his eyes. Sir gazed back, smiling. “Good Boy.” The Boy smiled shyly, happy with the repeated praise. “Go to the tent,” Sir said, motioning towards the tent the pair had occupied for the last five days.

The Boy went to the tent, lifted the flap, and entered. It smelled of males and sex and wood smoke and cigars. It smelled like Sir, but also of himself. The Boy smiled and sighed with contentment. He smoothed the sleeping bags that had been zipped together the first afternoon, arranging them square on the king-size air mattress. He fluffed Sir's pillow, then his own. Sir was getting older and often like to nap now after sex. His age showed only in small ways, some gray in his bushy beard, and stiffness in his back in the morning; the Boy had noticed more naps of late.

Sir entered the tent and retrieved something from his pack while the Boy's attention was occupied with fluffing pillows. He knelt on the air mattress then crawled into the sleeping bag. The Boy looked questioningly at Sir, wondering if he would be invited to join the nap. “Come on, Boy,” Sir said, reaching out. The Boy happily scrambled into the warm cave of the sleeping bags.

Sir enveloped the Boy in his arms, nuzzling his neck with his beard. He whispered quietly in the Boy's ear, “What's your job, Boy?'

“To serve you, Sir. To be what you want me to be, to be the best I can be,” the Boy responded.

“Damn straight, Boy. You're a good Boy. You're the best: loyal, loving, obedient. Reach down here, put your hand out.” The Boy obeyed unquestioningly.

Sir placed something in the palm of the Boy's hand. “What is it?” the Boy asked.

“Look.”

The Boy brought his hand outside the sleeping bags and saw a key in his hand. “What's it to?

“It's the key to our house.”

“Our.......house?”

“I asked you what your job was, and you answered correctly. My job is to protect you, to provide all you need to grow, to thrive. You will live with me, in our house. From now on.”

The Boy's heart sang with joy. He did not trust his voice, and he knew Sir disliked displays of raw emotion; but he pulled Sir's heavy, hairy arms closer around him. He felt the thick bulge of Sir's cock and balls nestled against his crack, the swell of Sir's belly fitting close in the small of his back, the solid warmth of Sir's chest hard against his back. He sighed. The only sounds were the birds outside, the sound of their breathing, and the steady beating of their own hearts The Boy looked ahead to the future, and saw contentment and purpose... and peace.

“Sleep now, Boy. Rest. I got your back.” The two drifted off to sleep.