co-written by Detergent and Verhalen
[Disclaimer: Everyone in this story is a failure at being an adult.]
December 2021
"Larrykins, is hims weady to go see Santa?"
Larry opened the bathroom door, stuck his head out a crack, and glared at Juniper.
Juniper was wearing a white-fur-trimmed, red velvet "Mrs. Claus" outfit, the top cut low enough to reveal ample cleavage, and very short shorts, with knee-high pointy black leather high-heeled boots. She had on a floppy cap matching her outfit, with a jingle bell on the end, and in one hand she wielded a three-foot-long candy cane and in the other she had a cat-o-nine-tails whip. She shook the whip threateningly at Larry now, who sighed as he opened the door wider and stepped out.
At Juniper's behest, Larry was wearing a red and green pointed "elf cap" with a jingle ball on top, and matching pointy red-and-green booties with bells on the toe... and adult-sized diapers printed with Christmas trees, holly, and Rudolphs. It was without a doubt, the most humiliating moment of his life next to when he had to shave his mother's back and ass. It was even more humiliating than when Brandon had gotten him arrested for indecent exposure.
As Larry approached, Juniper reached out with the candy cane and hooked it around his arm to drag him closer. Larry noticed then Juniper had fresh henna on her hands, a festive red mandala pattern, with red-tipped fingers. Before he could remark on it, hoping a false compliment would keep her placated, Juniper said, "Ohhhh, doesn't hims wook pwecious!"
Endeth me. "Thou lookest very Christmasy, my love."
"It's Yule." Juniper glared. "I'm Pagan. Not Christian. We celebrate Yule, not Christmas. Stop oppressing me!"
Larry wasn't going to argue that Christmas was largely based on Pagan traditions and essentially the same thing. Or that she was taking him to see "Santa", who was definitely from the Christian appropriation of the holiday.
It did, however, remind him that it was very cold outside, being December in Indiana, and neither of them were dressed to go out in it, especially not Larry. Not to mention that waiting in long lines at the mall dressed as they were would probably get another visit from the police, and another lecture from his father.
"Thou aren't taking me to the mallest, I hopeth," Larry said.
"Oh, I'm taking you to the molest, all right, that's exactly what he's going to do!" Juniper cackled with glee. "But no, we're not going to the mall. They want me to show proof of vaccination and I'm not taking that jab." Juniper sneered. "No, Larry, Santa's coming to us."
"Oheth?" Larry had a brief moment of panic. If he'd known that they were having company today, Larry would have bought more champagne and caviar and shrimp to show his guest how wealthy he was. "We're not ready to entertaineth guests -"
"Santa always sees what we're doing, so ready or not, here he comes." Juniper winked, and then she slapped Larry on the butt with the candy cane and began herding him downstairs. "Come on!"
Downstairs, Juniper had pushed aside the coffee table and drawn a pentagram in chalk on the living room floor, and at each point of the pentagram there was a black candle, burning. Larry flinched at the sight of the candles, remembering when he'd accidentally set himself on fire doing a spell. But here was Juniper, leaving candles burning unattended while she went upstairs. Before Larry could lecture her, Juniper brandished her candy cane like it was a wand and began walking in a clockwise circle around the pentagram, chanting:
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua...
Larry fought the urge to facepalm. Once again, that wasn't a real spell, but Juniper didn't listen.
When the "spell" was over, Juniper waited, and after a few minutes, when nothing materialized in the circle, she frowned.
Larry couldn't help but feel a bit smug about it. But then, there was a loud clearing of the throat. Not in the center of the pentagram, but seated on the leather sofa, there appeared a tall man in a very grand and expensive tuxedo. Though the garment was suited for a black tie occasion, Larry could see no cloth encircling his throat and indeed, he had left the collar and top button of his immaculate white dress shirt open. The man had mid-length black hair and dark eyes and a very handsome if somewhat foxlike face. Stubble shadowed his jaw and an energy like menace and poisoned honey breathed out from him. And he looked nothing like Santa whatsoever. He had arranged himself elegantly upon the sofa, arms and legs draped as if he owned the house and everything within its walls including both Larry and Juniper.
"You were supposed to show up in the pentagram," Juniper scolded him.
The man snorted with disdain. "I only came because your Daddy and I are old friends. Don't think chanting gibberish in a 'sexy voice,' " and here he made air-quotes as he emphasized the word "sexy", "Is really going to alter the fabric of reality enough to get me to show up just because you want me to. I've seen better form in grade school talent shows."
"Excuse me? I did the summoning -"
The man furrowed his brow and growled now, going from cool amusement to malice. "Don't pretend-summon me again, thot. You don't know what you're dealing with."
"Whatever," Juniper huffed under her breath.
"I heard that. Rude little brats like you won't get any gifts this year. Which means I can focus on you." The man turned his head to face Larry, and smiled wolfishly.
If this was an old friend of Juniper's father - and Larry's own - then this was no one to casually accept gifts from. If the man was even a little like their father, all gifts would come with strings attached. And yet Larry felt compelled to step forward, and keep stepping.
"Yes, good. Come, Laurentius." The man waved his fingers and gave a seductive little purr. "Come, Yúcalórë."
"Thou... knowest my nameth," Larry said, stunned. His true name, the name that only his father, mother, and Juniper knew. The name of old, when he had once been royal and on his way to godhood. He realized he shouldn't be surprised that someone purporting to be an old friend of his father would have such information, but it still unnerved him anyway.
And yet, also exhilarated him, like the first taste of a drug he knew would end in rock-bottom addiction, but still craved anyway. There was power in that name. Power in the man's knowledge of that name.
Power.
Just before Larry could reach out to the tuxedo-clad man lounging on the sofa, he had to ask. "Whomst arteth thou?"
"My name is Melkor." That wolfish, predatory grin again. "But tonight, that's Santa to you, Lur-Lur."
Larry's jaw dropped. He hated being called Larry, he hated Juniper's "Lar" and "Larrykins" even more, but "Lur-Lur" was a new level of indignity.
Melkor patted his lap. "Come on, Lur-Lur. Santa's waiting."
Juniper came behind Larry and shoved him forward, Larry falling over onto Melkor, who caught him in a tight grip and positioned Larry onto his lap... onto a hard bulge through the trousers. Despite himself, Larry's body responded, hardening in his diaper.
Melkor began rubbing Larry's knee, then caressed up Larry's thigh, chuckling as Larry's cock tented the diaper even more. Melkor's hot breath tickled Larry's neck, and he licked his way up Larry's neck slowly, nipping at Larry's earlobe before he rasped, "Now tell Santa what you want for Christmas."
Larry's mind swam, his heart hammering as his body betrayed him. It was getting ever more difficult to think. More difficult still when the hand stroking his thigh started to palm the bulge in Larry's diaper, while Melkor's free hand brushed up Larry's stomach to his chest, thumb brushing a nipple. He pinched the nipple and rolled it in circles.
Larry's mouth went dry. Thinketh, thou fool, Larry commanded himself, trying to regain control. His mind latched onto the true name Melkor had used. Yúcalórë. The power. Sweet, sweet power.
Money was power.
"I wantest money," Larry said. "Giveth me casheth, milord Santa."
Melkor's laughter went from an ominous chuckle to a full-bodied boom, his belly heaving just like Santa Claus, only Melkor wasn't fat at all... or jolly. "Santa can give you anything your heart desires, and that's truly what you want?" Melkor pinched Larry's nipple again, and began rubbing Larry's erection through the diaper more insistently. His tongue licked down Larry's neck, and he nibbled at Larry's shoulder, making Larry gasp and shiver. "Nothing else you're craving? The ability to speak archaic English correctly, perhaps?"
There was one thing, now that Melkor mentioned it. His sweet Brandon, who had been such a lovely fuck, catering to his every whim... until Brandon had been deactivated after that unfortunate incident at the steakhouse. Brandon himself had been a substitute for Cole, the fuckboy that Larry and Juniper had shared when they were living in sunny Florida. When the carnival had at last made its way to Indiana, they had fallen out of touch with Cole. But Larry hadn't forgotten him. Not by a long shot.
Larry didn't want to admit how much he was smitten with Cole, so he went for the next best thing. "I wisheth for Brandon." He turned his head and flashed his most winning smile, batting the lashes of his eyes, like exquisite and costly Parma violets.
"Brandon?" Melkor closed his eyes for a moment - Larry realized his father perhaps hadn't told Melkor about the robot Juniper had made - but then Melkor nodded and opened his eyes again, like he had checked some sort of internal file system. "Ah, yes. Nerdanel's creation." Melkor glanced at Juniper, who preened. Then Melkor snorted again. "Shoddy workmanship if it had to be de-activated so soon."
Juniper opened her mouth, and before she could protest, Melkor stroked Larry's cheek and crushed their mouths together in a first kiss. Larry was aroused and repulsed all at once, cock pulsing as their tongues played.
"Is it truly Brandon you want? ...Wouldn't you rather have a cinnabar-haired rentboy fit for the Bellagio..."
Larry gasped. Santa didn't just know if he was naughty or nice, he knew exactly how naughty Larry's thoughts had been, his most forbidden fantasy of a rentboy who looked just like Cole.
"I already know the answer to that question, my dear, sweet Lur-Lur." Melkor traced Larry's lips with his thumb.
"Hmph," Juniper scoffed - Larry got the sense she was a bit jealous, which was rich considering how much she played around. "You should know that Larry's been very naughty this year. I don't think he should get what he wants right away. He ought to have a little punishment before his reward." Juniper raised her whip. "In the old Pagan days, Krampus would switch people..." She cracked the whip.
"I hear you've been rather naughty yourself and maybe you shouldn't get what you want right away, which is obviously whipping our Lur-Lur," Melkor said. He started playing with Larry's nipple again, and now the hand that had been rubbing Larry through the diaper went down the diaper to fondle Larry's hard cock. "But I agree that Lur-Lur has been a very bad boy and ought to have a little punishment first."
Larry didn't know whether to be thrilled or horrified. Perhaps both.
Despite Juniper's protests at being left behind, Melkor took Larry out without her. They went to the garage where Larry kept his Bentley. Larry watched as a stack of ten-dollar bills materialized on the work station.
"Now then," Melkor said, "since you love money so much, you're going to get whipped with it first."
"Artest thou goingeth to doest the whipping, milord Santa?"
"No, I might break a nail." Melkor chuckled again. Then he looked over at the car. "I know your car is sentient. Santa sees all. So, he's going to whip you."
Larry couldn't believe what Melkor was asking, but it could be worse. At least Larry was sexually attracted to his car.
The car was aware of what was going on, and made a soft beep to express reluctance, not wanting to hurt its master.
Larry shook his head and gave the car's hood an encouraging pat. "Thee musteth whippeth thine Daddiest, Cash-Blaze or no high-grade gasoline for thou next filleth-up."
Vroom.
Melkor tugged down Larry's diaper, exposing Larry's milk-white ass, like two round scoops of Turkey Hill vanilla ice cream. It wasn't that expensive or of too high a quality but it was trying.
The Bentley used the Force to pick up the stack of ten-dollar bills that laid on the table and began paddling Larry's rounded, pearl-like arse with two hundred and fifty dollars...
When Melkor deemed Larry sufficiently disciplined, he used his own sorcery to scatter the bills on the floor of the garage, snapped his fingers and added even more bills, making a pile like leaves. Then before Larry's eyes, he used glamour to turn himself into Cole - the tuxedo was right out of Larry's fantasy - and Melkor threw Larry down on the floor in the pile of money. Larry watched as Melkor waved his hand to float over a can of motor oil. "This will have to do," Melkor murmured before he dumped the motor oil over his cock.
Blaze the Bentley watched, engine purring away as Melkor took Larry on the floor, first with Larry on his hands and knees like a dog, then Melkor pounded Larry into the pile of cash with Larry's legs on his shoulders, and they finished with Larry riding Melkor's lap. With Melkor glamoured to look like Cole, Larry came harder than he had in months, and the long, drawn-out beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep from Blaze let Larry know he enjoyed it too.
Melkor pushed Larry off him and Larry rolled around in the pile of cash, tongue lolling, dazed, feeling like his body was made of jelly.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Yúcalórë," Melkor said, getting up and brushing himself off - there was cum all over his shirt and jacket which couldn't be brushed off. Melkor's appearance shifted from the fiery Cole to his inky-haired usual, and Melkor blew a kiss before the air shimmered and he faded, then vanished.
Larry continued laying there, spent, his milk-pale body covered in a fine sheen of sweat, happiness shining in the eyes like flawless amethysts from the mines of Minas Gerais, Brazil. He'd gotten to fuck "Cole" and had all this cash now. It had been the best Christmas ever.
Something told him that he would probably be paying for it later, that it wasn't from the goodness of this Melkor person's heart. But for now...
"Yippeeth! Woohooest!" Larry scooped up a big handful of money and tossed it in the air. "Merryeth Christmasest to all! Joyeth to the worldest!"