The Reindeer Clause: Part 1

By Nocturne13
published December 24, 2020
8000 words

Santa Claus brings Gary a magical himbo for Christmas, but he’s a lot to take in. #ThereWasOnlyOneBed

The Reindeer Clause Part 1

December 25, Christmas Day: The First Day of Christmas

The ringing of his cell phone awakened Gary Griffith at 2 am on Christmas Day. Groggily he reached for the phone on his nightstand, his eyes blurry from sleep. As he started to focus he saw a strange number and processed only the word “hospital.”

“Hi?” he said fumbling with the phone as he accepted the call.

“Hello is this Gary Griffith?”


“You’re the emergency contact for Miles Pierce. Mr. Pierce has been in a slip and fall accident and has a broken leg. Please come meet him in the ER at Saint Renatus Hospital as soon as you can. Please be sure to wear a mask.” There was a click as the hospital operator hung up.

Gary sat up and combed his fingers through his unkempt hair. “Shit, Miles,” he murmured. “I can’t leave him at the hospital. I guess it’s time to go risk death for my asshole boyfriend.” Gary got up and pulled on some clean clothes, splashed water on his face and hair and ran a proper comb through. He grabbed a mask and stuffed it in his pocket and bundled up for the cold December night. Locking the door of his tiny but cozy 1930s brick cottage he hopped in his car and sped off for the hospital, not hearing the sound of sleigh bells falling from the wintry sky above.

When he got to Saint Renatus he pulled into the 2 hour or less visitor parking lot, put on his mask and adjusted it, then stepped out into the night and walked over to the emergency room entrance. Inside a greeter standing at a podium six feet back from the door asked him several screening questions and where he was going and then quickly gave him directions. Gary followed the hospital floor lines which had been adjusted for the COVID-19 pandemic and soon reached the non-critical ER waiting area and continued back to a small nurse’s station.

He politely waited for the duty nurse to hang up her phone and scribble a note on a chart before asking, “I’m looking for Miles Pierce, he’s here with a broken leg.” The woman nodded.

“Pierce, Pierce, Pierce,” she said flipping through the P charts. The one she pulled out had both a big red and a big purple flag on it which made her frown. She opened it and looked inside then snapped the chart shut and pulled out a clip board and loaded it with no less than 8 different forms. “Mr. Pierce apparently suffered a blow to the head and is nonverbal at this time. Is he normally nonverbal?” Gary shook his head no. “Well we’ll need you to fill in this information but you can go see him now, he’s in 4B” she pointed over to an urgent care room about 50 feet away.

“Thanks,” Gary said and walked off. He was concerned by the description of Miles’s condition and walked swiftly to the door. He no sooner took a step into the crowded room when he stopped still at the sight in front of him. Rather than Miles sitting there in a cast, a gorgeous god-like specimen of masculinity was draped across the narrow stretcher. His head was at at the top, elevated, while his feet both hung off the end. His left thigh had a giant light blue foam cast clasped around it, secured with what looked suspiciously like duct tape. Based on the massive width of the right thigh which was fully dangling off the side of the stretcher, Gary thought they must have needed to use two casts. The man was only covered by a sheet draped like a toga across his left shoulder, over his crotch, and off his right hip. He was muscular, but more like a physique model than a hard weightlifter; still with his size the muscles were enormous. Every line, every bulge, every cleft in his torso was sculpted, aesthetic perfection. Even the swirl of body hair that grew out from the crotch and lightly dusted his chest pelted him in a way that complemented him. Notably Gary realized he had a nipple ring in his exposed right nipple, but no tattoos as far as he could see.

There were far more medical personnel in the room than there should have been, and most of them were openly lusting. At least one of the male residents had half removed his mask and looked like he was fighting passing out. Two female nurses were holding each other. Two other doctors were gently poking and prodding the man’s muscles and pretending to take notes on the chart. A stern, hawk-faced woman was the only unmoved person. She was wearing a Transgender solidarity pin, a Lesbian pride pin, and a big badge that said ATTENDING PHYSICIAN with a name in smaller type he couldn’t read at a distance below the title.

“Oh, I’m sorry I was looking for Miles,” Gary said. “The nurse at the desk gave me this room.” The hawk-faced doctor waved him closer.

“Yes this is Mr. Pierce,” she said. “You must be his emergency contact Mr. Griffith. We got your name off his patient records.” At the sound of his Gary’s name the man on the bed suddenly sat up straighter.

“What? No, this isn’t Miles, this man is huge!” Undaunted, the doctor tossed a wallet across the intervening space to Gary. He opened it to see the driver’s license with the name Miles Pierce and this strange man’s photo on it. “What the hell, how did he get so big?” Miles muttered to himself.

“How long has it been since you last saw him?” the hawkish doctor asked.

“A few months, I’ve been working from home and observing strict pandemic protocols,” Gary answered.

“Ah, some people are using the time at home to work out quite a lot,” she said, glossing over his confusion. “Was Mr. Pierce nonverbal previously?” Gary shook his head no again. “Well we have had trouble getting the full details of his accident out of him. The paramedics said his femur was cleanly broken and extruding through the skin but that was obviously not the case when he got here. He has a severe fracture. We also were able to send him for a quick X-ray but the permanent nipple rings presented a problem for the MRI. We don’t see any signs of trauma and he doesn’t seem to be concussed. He said on the 911 call he fell and thought he hit his head, but he was in a snow bank naked so we’re not sure.”

Miles took that news in but just got more confused. “So, what happened?”

“Again, we’re just not sure. It doesn’t make sense,” she said. “The EMT wrote that it looked like he’d gotten up on the roof to clear off the snow or knock down icicles or something like that, then slipped and slid off the 1 story roof and landed in the back yard breaking his leg. But he apparently did so naked, or just wearing a light robe. We also thought that there might have been some minor hypothermia causing him to take off clothes while he was laying in the yard but that seems like a stretch. All we really know is he was outside just wearing a robe, fell down, broke his leg, and is not speaking more than a couple words at a time and that seems like a huge effort.” Gary nodded trying to take the situation in.

“Does he take drugs? Do I need to run a toxicology test, see if he got drugs cut with something unexpected?”

“No he just drinks occasionally, snooty wines mostly, occasionally a whiskey or something like that. He doesn’t even smoke pot.” The doctor sighed.

“Normally I’d admit him for overnight observation and talk to radiology about what we can do with those nipple rings in, but the hospital is packed full from the pandemic. I want to discharge him and send him home with you, but you’ll need to do observation in case he is concussed and not showing it.”

“Uh I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Gary said. “We haven’t been close recently because of the pandemic. Doesn’t he have any family you can call instead?”

“Apparently not in-state. And Mr. Griffith,”

“Gary, please,”

“Gary, your boyfriend is shutting down this place. He’s just outed two of my coworkers as gay or bi based on their reactions, and I only have a few lesbians who I can deploy around him. Get him out of here, watch him, and bring him back if his situation changes.”

“Oh, OK,” Gary agreed, stunned.

“I see you have some forms, please fill those out in the lobby and we’ll bundle him up for travel as best we can.”

Gary obediently went out into the ER lobby and started filling out the forms, relying on information on the insurance card in Miles’s wallet. With only three hours of sleep he was feeling disoriented and just not up to fighting the lesbian doctor. He figured he would go to Miles’s house and get some answers there.

A while later with the help of a crutch, three orderlies, and a large lesbian woman from the janitorial staff, “Miles” was loaded into Gary’s car. He had the wallet and cell phone which “Miles” had been carried in with in his pocket, but the huge stranger was wearing multiple patient gowns and had a spare sheet wrapped around him. It barely covered him and was completely inadequate protection from the December night air, still, he didn’t seem to mind and gave all the helpers from the hospital a big grin and a wave.

In the car, Gary looked at the stranger. Handsome, muscular, huge and barely packed into the small vehicle, even with the seat shoved all the way back. They’d had to carefully position his left leg to avoid straining the thigh at all.

“Who ARE you?” Gary finally asked. The man got very serious and focused and tapped himself in the center of his chest with the index finger of his right hand.

“Comet,” he said huskily. “Comet.” He pointed at Gary. “Yours.” Gary, thinking he was asking what his name pointed at himself as well.

“Gary,” he said.

“No. Gareth,” the man replied. Gary did a double-take.

“Waitaminute. Gareth is actually my legal name. Nobody ever calls me that because it’s a weird name. Like nobody knows without looking at my license. Miles doesn’t even know. How do you know??”


“Where’s the real Miles?”




“Where?!” the man shook his head and made a frustrated noise.

“You don’t have the words?” Gary intuited. The huge stranger nodded.

“No words. No. Gone. Gone forever.” Gary stared at him for several minutes and the stranger stared back – at first. Then he lowered his gaze and looked down at his hands and bit his lower lip as if he were worried. Gary got the sense that he was scared so he dropped it. He started up the car and cranked the heater to maximum and set off for Miles’s house.

Miles’s house was located on a corner in a post-baby boom neighborhood. The driveway and garage were on the main street, but Gary pulled up along the side street that also bordered the property. Gary felt that something was deeply wrong; there was just something in the air that felt off. “Stay here,” he said, putting the car in park and leaving the keys in the ignition to keep the heater going. He got out of the car and surveyed the yard. Tire tracks from the ambulance had hopped the curb and gone right up into the back yard. He walked around and saw so many footprints, their outlines starting to blur in the soft but icy wind of the night. The gibbous moon was far down on the horizon and was not casting enough light to see by so Gary pulled out his phone and turned on his flashlight and searched the yard. He found the biggest disturbance near the back of the house where it met the garage and even found a fairly disturbing amount of blood spread around the heavily disturbed snow.

The house felt wrong. The empty black windows of the bathroom and kitchen stared at him with an Amityville Horror vibe. He walked to the sliding doors into the house and found them closed but unlocked. He let himself in and swiftly moved through the house and found Miles’s house and car keys in a dish in the kitchen on the counter bar. He didn’t turn on any house lights but just used his cell phone to light the way as he walked through the house. Gary was actually more disturbed that he found nothing obviously disturbed. In Miles’s room the unmade bed lay there still empty, and a quick search of the closet only found the usual clothes in the expected sizes. There was clearly no sign of Miles, but it did seem that he’d gotten out of bed and gone out the back door and then vanished; somehow the stranger waiting in the car had been swapped with him by the time he got to the hospital. Gary checked all the windows and doors including the patio were secure, and then let himself out the proper front door and locked it behind him. He walked back to his car and got in, where “Miles” was sitting quietly. Dead tired he decided that the terrifyingly huge stranger seemed to be some kind of gentle, possibly simple, giant and just buckled up without a word. He put the car in gear and sped off into the depths of the night.

A while later as Gary drove down the street his own house was on, he saw an unusual glow in the distance. He realized that he was seeing a display of Christmas lights still on even though it was the middle of the night and starting to approach morning. He hadn’t noticed any of his neighbors in this older, slightly run-down neighborhood having done much this year. As he drew closer his sense of disbelief rapidly grew until he reached his own house and found it ablaze with Christmas lights and decorations. He pulled the car into the postage-stamp sized driveway in front of the attached garage and stopped it. He got out of the car and rubbed his eyes, certain that his lack of sleep was causing a hallucination.

While he was at the hospital, someone had decorated the exterior of his house from top to bottom.

The red brick cottage had never looked so good. There were garlands of pine and holly over each of the gabled windows with bright points of electric light in each of them. From the awnings strings of icicle lights now hung, not the simple twisted strand kind but the newest which were clear plastic pipes with LEDs down their length; they lit up in cycles which looked like stars falling in sync. The mailbox post in the yard was wrapped up like a candy cane, and the small shrubs by the house were expertly covered with netting lights. Since the house didn’t have any external electrical outlets in front it seemed unbelievable, though when he got close to the shrubs he was able to see several discretely positioned black squares and realized the lights were all solar powered.

Gary walked up to the front door and pulled open the storm door and locked it open. He unlocked the main front door which now had a gorgeous wreath adorning it and pushed the heavy wooden door all the way open. As he turned to trudge back to his car he thought he heard music in the distance, like an enchanting music box that could be a soundtrack to the Nutcracker or a Harry Potter film. At his car he opened the passenger door and Not-Miles carefully turned to exit the car, using his crutch as support to heave himself out of the cramped car.

Gary staggered as the man put his weight fully on him for a few moments as he adjusted his position. He had to weigh at least two hundred and fifty pounds, maybe more, Gary thought. Yet, he almost felt electrified as Not-Miles rested his arm over Gary’s shoulder and positioned the crutch under his left armpit. As Not-Miles’s body rubbed against Gary’s in the process, even though Gary was wearing a heavy winter coat and the stranger was wearing hospital gowns, it was still possible to feel the density and warmth of his muscles. Once out of the car and balanced, the stranger was able to carefully hobble using his crutch. Gary disengaged and closed the passenger door and locked the car. He then threw the man’s right arm over his shoulder to provide some additional support though he wasn’t sure the huge man was helped much by the effort. Gary figured if nothing else he was providing stability and helped him the few steps to the front door. The man preceded him into the house and Gary released the hinge hold on the storm door and pulled it shut, then closed the front door. As he did so he realized there was more light in the house than he expected, and the smell of apples and cinnamon floating down the hallway. He turned and realized he was seeing by the brilliant multi-colored lights of the Christmas tree shining light through the living room archway and into the narrow hall and entryway.

The Christmas tree which was also not there when he went to the hospital.

“What the Hell!? Someone decorated my house while I was getting you?” Gary finally blurted.

“Santa,” said the strange man, who inexplicably shuddered fearfully. Gary pulled off his coat and tossed it on a nearby hook on the entryway wall, then lead the man into the living room. The furniture had been moved, everything was slid away from the far right corner so that a medium-sized but quite full tree could be set up. It was beautifully decorated with what looked like vintage metal ornaments & bulbs, a few wood sculpted decorations, mostly painted birds and forest creatures, and a ton of modern lights. Underneath the tree were a variety of wrapped presents. One relatively small box wrapped in metallic blue paper and a tag that read Gareth stood out from under the tree by itself. The strange man he’d brought from the hospital lumbered to sit down on the couch, which was an old wooden framed one with natty cushions which Gary got from a recycle center. As he was about to say that he didn’t think it would hold his weight, the man comfortably dropped into it and there was nary a creak. Gary realized that the couch looked like it had been completely reupholstered, and possibly re-stained as well.

“That’s impossible,” Gary said with a breathy exclamation. It wasn’t a new couch it was definitely the old one, it just looked reupholstered… and repaired… but it must be a different couch, the work could not possibly have been done in just about two hours. He continued to look around the room and saw a dark spot on the left wall facing the couch where the painted white bricks of the fireplace were missing. Striding closer he realized that the tiny bricked-up original fireplace had been un-bricked. Disoriented, he backed away and turned to walk to the kitchen, following the smell of apples and the sound of ethereal music; as he approached the kitchen he heard voices in the distance. After a few short steps he turned on the light switch, revealing that his crock pot had been set out on the tiny bistro table he used as his main dining surface. It appeared from the empty bottles sitting nearby along with the neatly gathered bag of orange peels and an open container of cinnamon sticks, someone had started making wassail in the crock pot. The sound of voices and holiday music were explained by the clock radio mounted under one of the cabinets being turned on. He silenced it and looked at the fridge, which looked like the things pinned to the door (mostly take-out fliers) had been slightly moved. He opened it to find what looked like a full family catered Christmas dinner crammed in there. He shut the door and turned around and stepped to the kitchen counter where he stood bracing himself a few moments. He grabbed a mug off the mug tree on the counter and staggered over to the tiny kitchen table and plopped down, breathing heavily.

“This has got to be an elaborate practical joke. This must be like some wild reality show. There’s no way this has all happened. None of this makes sense,” he said out loud to himself. He felt nauseous from the strain of the events and the lack of sleep and the room felt dizzy. He lifted up the lid of the crock pot and scooped out a mug of hot wassail. Blowing on it he started sipping the delicious mixture of fresh-pressed apple cider, oranges, and spices. The spicy liquid sugar helped stabilize his electrolytes and he started to feel better. After a few minutes he remembered he had a guest to take care of as well so he grabbed another mug, as well as a ladle, and prepared another portion of wassail to take to the living room.

“Gareth!” the man said happily as he offered him the hot drink. He blew on it and started to sip it.

“What did you say again? Your name?”

The man stopped sipping his drink for a moment and thumped his chest with his left hand. “Comet. Comet!” Then he pointed at the blue box on the floor in front of the tree. Gary went over and picked it up.

He sat back down in the big easy chair beside the fireplace that was facing the couch, and tore open the box. Inside were some papers folded into quarters, and a metal tool that looked like bolt cutters. They weren’t very big, just the size of the nail cutters you use on pets, but they seemed very well made.

Gary sipped his drink and unfolded the papers and began to read a letter written in neat uncial printing.

“Dear Gareth,

You have written to me many times over the years, and I am so, so sorry that I was not able to grant your wish. I know that when you were a little boy you wanted a special playmate. When you were a teenager you wanted an ally. When you were a young man you wanted someone to love you. But I cannot grant every wish, and time has moved on and you found a boyfriend of your own.


You do not know the truth about Miles yet, but you will. And it will nearly break your heart. And for that I have taken Miles away to labor in my workshop and serve in my herd for the next five decades. He has committed terrible crimes, and not just against you.

Those I take into my service are eventually rehabilitated and returned to the mortal world. Just as I have taken Miles to be the new Comet, I have given you the previous Comet to be your loyal and most worshipful Boyf–”

Gary surged to his feet sending hot wassail spraying over the wooden floor and yelled “You’re the LITERAL COMET WHO PULLS SANTA’S SLEIGH? WHAT THE FUCKING HELL!” Comet nodded vigorously from his position a few feet away.

“Comet. Gareth. Yours.”

“I’m having a hallucination. This is a psychotic break! I’m probably self-harming right now!” Gary said out loud. “This wassail is probably Drano… but it sure tastes good if it’s Drano,” he said taking a sip as he was suddenly dizzy. He plopped down in the chair and balanced the mug on the arm of the chair by him, and resumed looking at the letter.

“Fucking Hell, Santa swapped out my boyfriend with an…” he looked over at Comet, sitting there dwarfing the room, handsome, muscular, huge, and apparently very gentle, “upgrade,” he murmured quietly. He looked around the house. “Ok the elves could actually deck the halls in 2 hours, and elves could fix a broken down couch, and of course they wouldn’t leave a fireplace blocked… shit is that a new flue lever and grate and everything?” Comet made an affirmative sound from the couch. “Did Santa tell you my name was Gareth?” Comet nodded. “Ok, wow.”

Gary took another sip of wassail, turned back to the letter, and kept reading:

“–worshipful boyfriend. He will be obedient to you in all things. If you do not like him in this way you may use him in any way you wish. There is no limit or restriction on what he may be used for. You may set him to work for you for a wage, doing any labor. You may abuse him or give him to others to use; as a Sinner no indignity or hard use you set him to is unreasonable; you may not kill him or abandon him without resource of his own, though. You are responsible for him, or I shall return to take him back to the workshop forever.

He will not be able to resume Miles’s old job but I have created a fiction that will allow you to extract him from that employment, and take control of all of Miles’s assets so that it is not a burden on you to support him.”

Gary read on, fascinated, and turned to the second sheet of paper.

“Two rune-rings pierce his nipples and these are part of the enchantment that has made him my reindeer. The ring on his right has transformed him into a perfect beast of burden physically and its magic has run its course and is spent. The transformation is complete and permanent. Retain it or discard it as you wish. The ring upon the left nipple binds his mind and seals most words. If you would like him to be able to speak more than a word or two, you may use the Rune Cutters I enclose herein to break the primary binding of the magic. He will not regain some of the aspects of the human mind which have been sealed away, such as math beyond the most elementary, but he will be able to speak in short sentences. Please consider carefully whether you wish to lift this restriction, especially if you plan to use him as a laborer to earn a wage for you instead of keeping him as your boyfriend. A job of simple manual labor such as a warehouse worker or stevedore would be ideal for him.

There are some few quirks incumbent upon his transformations. There is nothing that would harm you. You should use him sexually at least once; he will be eager to accommodate you. A small amount of the magic that was used to create him as he is now will pass to you and grant you protection against the current plague that the mortal world grapples with. You will find that his stamina is nearly limitless – in the true magical sense of the word – and the more you use him the more it will be available. He is strong, tireless, can heal almost any injury he sustains, and is well-trained and obedient.

As I left this meager gift for you I saw that you had but a tiny Christmas tree upon the small table and since you have kept at least that much spirit, as well as had left a box of Girl Scout Thin Mints for me on the kitchen table, I have taken the liberty of having the elves prepare a few small treats for you. They were quite eager to be turned loose to use their full skill, so you may find a few creaky boards throughout the house have been repaired and a few messy things tidied. I also have left some presents that were waylaid in their journey to reach you, from friend and family afar.

Should Comet displease you, by the 12th day of Christmas burn this letter in your fireplace and call upon me to take him away and I shall do so in the night that follows. Do not attempt to see me or mine, or the previous Miles Pierce. This is Law.

With every warm regard,

Santa Claus”

Gary dropped the letter and set down the cup of wassail.

And then Gary passed the fuck out.

Gary awakened several hours later with the sun on his face and a feeling of comfort as if he were sleeping on a cloud. As his eyes opened he realized he was buried beneath a snow white goose-down comforter contained within a red and green plaid bedspread. He was laying in his own bedroom, nestled against the best pillows he had ever touched, and it felt like he’d gotten a solid eight hours of sleep.

“It’s Christmas Day morning!” he said to himself. “What a crazy dream I had last night.” He lifted the covers and started to get out of bed, at which point he realized he’d slept in his underwear and socks instead of pajamas. He looked around his bedroom and everything looked clean and tidy but somehow a little bit off. Like the bed he was getting out of: it was a beautiful California King-sized bed with a carved wooden headboard and a goose down comforter he didn’t remember owning. He chose to ignore that and strode confidently to the door, whereupon he opened it and stepped into the tiny hallway leading past the bathroom and to the kitchen, where he saw a huge, stunningly handsome man struggling to use the K-cup machine.

“Oh my God it wasn’t a dream!” he yelped. Comet turned around and grinned, still wearing two hospital gowns as little more than a makeshift tunic. He waved and pointed sheepishly at the K-cup machine and 3 ruined pods.

“Wait, you’re walking you shouldn’t be on your leg!” Gary exclaimed. Comet didn’t have the cast on anymore and he just rapped on his formerly-broken leg with his fist and made a “nah!” gesture with his face.

“Heal. Fast. Heal. Whole.” Gary remembered that in the ER the doctor said that the ambulance drivers reported him as having his snapped femur poking through his leg; and he remembered seeing blood in the snow at Miles’s house. But at the hospital it was already only a fracture and now … it was fully healed?

Gary stared at Comet; Comet stared back in confusion, then suddenly dropped his eyes and looked at his feet. Gary felt uncomfortable with the reaction. “Hey, no, you don’t have to look down I’m just wondering what to do next,” he said.


“Right! Let’s eat some breakfast. Hey… did you carry me to bed last night?” Comet nodded. “OK thanks, appreciate it.” Comet beamed at the compliment. Gary went over to the fridge and with some careful rearranging of the pre-packed Christmas feast that had been stuffed into it, he got out the fixings for bacon, eggs, sausage, hash browns, thought for a moment whether he should make pancakes too and then decided that Comet probably ate more than a thousand calories per meal at minimum and got out the butter and syrup too. “Comet why don’t you sit down at the table and I’ll cook us some food. I’ll make my own coffee, if you want some just nod twice and I’ll make you some too.” Comet smiled and extracted himself from the small square of kitchen real estate he was completely filling and sat down at the table. The crock pot was still on and he ladled some more wassail for himself while Gary whipped up a huge breakfast from scratch. He was about halfway done cooking when he realized he was standing around in his underwear and then just decided to power through. Once he brought a plate over to Comet he went back to his bedroom and put on a fresh pair along with casual pants and a t-shirt to eat in.

The meal consisted of Comet smiling a lot and making “mm mmm” sounds so it went fairly uneventfully. Once they were done Comet quickly sprang to his feet and cleared the dishes, obviously set on washing them. Gary went back to the living room and took in the bounty under the Christmas tree. He also re-read Santa’s letter and picked up the Rune Cutters and examined them. He sat down in his chair and waited for Comet to finish the dishes. When the former reindeer entered he directed him to sit on the end of the couch. He got up and walked over and squeezed in next to him. Though Gary was actually an average 5’ 11" guy, Comet towered over him. He felt like could easily hop up into his lap and be cradled. It was kind of a turn-on, but at the same time felt kind of weird. He had to look up to look at Comet’s face, otherwise he was staring at the top of a wall of abs and pecs.

“Ok I’m taking the ring off immediately,” Gary said without preamble. “You almost not talking is already driving me nuts not to mention it just feels creepy. You’re ok with this right?” Comet slowly nodded. “Ok then I’m doing it. Now.” Comet audibly gulped and presented his huge left pec, drawing the patient gown aside to give Gary access. Gary leaned in closer and looked at the ring. It felt off to him. It was blackened silver and had symbols scratched into it. They felt familiar but he couldn’t place them; they weren’t Nordic Elder Furthark runes, or Tolkien elvish characters, or Enochian, or any of a half-dozen fantasy or folklore symbols he was at least aware of. One strong impression Gary had though was that they seemed familiar, and they seemed cruel. Gary reached out with the clippers and snipped the bottom of the ring where the surface was smooth. The metal felt soft, like lead, and was cut without any resistance. He carefully touched the unpleasant metal and found it as easily manipulated as lead as well. He bent the loops out of alignment and then carefully rotated the ring to exit Comet’s nipple. Comet sighed as it was removed, not in pain but at least sensitivity. Comet released the patient gown’s left side and then hesitantly pulled the right side to give Gary access to the other nipple. Gary carefully took hold of the second nipple ring and snipped it off; it immediately turned to dust and dispersed into powdery sparkles.

“Well, that was magic, for sure,” Gary said gaping. “Metal just doesn’t dissolve like that.”

Comet had his eyes closed and was rubbing his temples like he had a headache. Gary got up and placed the wicked ring which remained into a small decorative match box sitting on the fireplace lintel. He wasn’t terribly surprised to find it was now full of old fashioned wooden matches. He strode off to the kitchen and brewed a mild cup of coffee and added a tiny bit of cream and a spoon of sugar to it and came back to the living room.

“Coffee helps with headaches, maybe try a sip of this?”

“Ok thanks, th-thank you,” Comet said. He massaged his Adam’s apple and cleared his throat a few times, looked at Gary, blushed, then turned and sipped some coffee. “Oh smooth,” he said. Gary took a deep satisfied breath.

“You ok? You feeling better?” Gary asked.

“Yes, thank you Gareth.” Comet sipped his coffee. “Words, slowly coming back to me. I can … put more together now.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Gary said, more to himself than Comet. But Comet took it as a real question. He set aside the coffee cup on the wooden arm of the sofa and gently rose to his feet. He started lifting off the hospital gowns and then dropped everything to the floor and stood there naked except the hospital socks. Gary gaped as his eyes went down the full uninterrupted length of Comet’s body. As he did so he thought initially that his endowment looked pretty nice and proportionate but then gasped as he realized that with Comet’s height, the good looking penis was actually huge. “Oh shit that thing would tear me apart,” he said with a wary tone, remembering that Santa had promised that the first fucking from Comet would, if he understood it correctly, protect him from COVID and possibly all other diseases.

“No.” Comet said firmly. “It’s magic. It – I – will never hurt you.” He partially kneeled in front of Gary almost like he was proposing or asking to be knighted. “I’m yours. I’m yours always, Gareth. We need to – at least once, be together. And before that, we get you ready. We have until the Twelfth Day. We have to by then. Or Santa will take me away again,” he got an intensely fearful look in his eyes. “Please Gareth, please, don’t give me back to Santa! I’ll be very good!”

Gary’s arm shot out and landed on Comet’s shoulder almost reflexively and gave him a reassuring squeeze. The shoulder was rounded and capped with firm, warm muscle. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. You seem really nice,” he said. “It’s just a lot to take in all at once. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that Miles, while kind of an asshole, was so bad Santa needed to drag him off.” Comet flinched at the words, stumbled back against the couch and started to shake. Aghast Gary dropped down next to him, “I’m sorry, I have to remember this is traumatic for you, you’re safe here,” and he leaned over to give Comet a hug which he gratefully accepted. He pulled Gary into a full embrace, his strength easily pulling Gary off his feet to be plastered up against his broad chest. Gary was surprised to find himself so easily and so literally swept off his feet, but did his best to give him a nice reassuring squeeze before awkwardly untangling himself and landing on the floor beside him.

“Let’s just take our time ok? I have almost two weeks of holiday time and vacation,” he explained while climbing to his feet. “We can just relax and get to know one another. I’m honestly still thinking I’m in a dream sometimes. You’re literally so magnificent my brain feels like it’s shorting out trying to accept the situation. And you seem like such a nice guy.”

“Yes,” said Comet almost sadly. He sniffed once. “Take time. You nice too. I hope you like me.” Gary smiled warmly and took his hand back.

“Well get comfortable. I am going to go take an Aspirin, I have kind of a headache from feeling overwhelmed, and also I think my blood pressure is up forty points, so, be right back.” Gary spun and headed back toward the bathroom. He paused and turned back to Comet. “You might want to pull those hospital gowns back on for now, it’s a little distracting with you naked.” Comet scrambled to his feet and started trying to adjust the two gowns he was wearing, one in front and one in the back. “We need to get you some clothes right away and then you can feel more normal, I bet. You don’t know your sizes, do you?”

“No,” replied Comet. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok, we’ll figure it out,” Gary said nonchalantly and then continued out of the room. He decided to make it two Aspirin.

The rest of the day was spent in awkward relaxation. Gary gave Comet a tour of his small house. He explained that the black glass in a frame above the fireplace was actually a flat-screen TV. Comet was amazed and managed to convey that he thought of a TV as a huge box. Gary did the math and realized he’d probably been dragged off to the North Pole in 1970 and would need to be caught up to modern life in any way that Santa hadn’t happened to educate him. Unfortunately even the slightest probing question about his time serving Santa tended to make Comet at minimum flinch if not actually start shaking with terror; Gary decided he’d better just stop asking questions and let Comet volunteer what he wanted when he wanted. He did teach him how to use the Keurig and the microwave and they enjoyed a delicious Christmas Day dinner in the evening courtesy of the meal left in the fridge.

As their comfort level with each other increased, Gary started to feel more relieved about the whole situation. Comet’s speech was still simple and rather broken, but it was clear he wasn’t intellectually challenged or being taken advantage of. Rather, his thinking patterns were sort of simplified and some concepts such as multi-digit numbers seemed to be beyond him. Gary thought it was likely he had been dumbed down by Santa to some extent, but he was at about the mental level of a clever himbo. At that point Gary realized that was exactly what Comet was: a super himbo. Tall, muscular, big-dicked, handsome, kind, smart enough to enjoy a good action movie but probably not to discuss philosophy. And considering how often Miles had gleefully ripped him apart over minutiae in any discussion they had, and in fact generally made a point of telling Gary how lucky he was to have Miles as a boyfriend because he sucked so much, Gary was kind of relieved.

It was just, he was so damn huge it was hard to cope with. Huge. Muscular. Towering. By the time dinner was over Gary had to admit to himself that he actually wanted to throw himself at his “Christmas present” pretty badly but he was holding himself back. He told himself that he was scared of the huge dick; he told himself he should let Comet have some more time to adjust, especially since the mind-numbing rune ring had only been removed for a few hours; but there was another voice inside him that said he was lying to himself, and he actually thought he didn’t deserve a hunk like Comet. For the moment, he told himself that voice was the one that was out of line.

The gifts under the tree turned out to be surprisingly mundane. Santa had rescued several gifts which friends and family had shipped to him which were mired in the pandemic holiday delay. Gary thought it would have been nice if Santa had provided Comet with at least one outfit. The corollary to that thought was that slaves don’t wear clothes and what Santa had written pretty much implied Comet was actually Gary’s slave. That was definitely not the wish Gary had written in any of his letters to Santa.

He and Comet watched a movie after dinner, squeezing in together on the small couch – really more of a jumbo love seat – since it directly faced the TV on the wall. Gary spent most of the movie cringing away from Comet so as to “not invade his personal space”; Comet spent most of the movie trying to discretely scoot closer and throw an arm over Gary’s shoulders. Eventually, Gary ran out of seat and Comet draped a friendly arm over his shoulder but kept most of his arm on the back of the sofa. When the movie ended, Gary turned to Comet and told him he was going to bed early so they could get up and beat the crowd to get him some clothes. Comet nodded in understanding and as soon as Gary stood up, he started trying to fold himself into a position to sleep on the couch.

“Uh I know we’re taking it slow, but there’s no way you fit on that couch. You can sleep in my room, IF you want to, that is; if you would prefer the couch that’s fine.” Comet perked up in surprise.

“Yes, great! Would like!” he said and stood up, picking up the throw he has been using. Gary awkwardly walked back through the house and kitchen to his room and opened the door, gesturing Comet to go in first. Comet looked around a bit and while Gary opened his dresser and got out a pair of pajamas, Comet staked out a nice spot on the floor at the foot of the bed and started to sit down with the throw. Gary blinked in surprise.

“I meant we can split the bed, but again, if you want to sleep on the floor…” Comet sprang to his feet and laughed nervously. He had thought Gary was too scared of him to offer to split the bed.

“The bed. Oh, haha.”

Gary nodded. “Right well I mean it’s a small house I just have the one bedroom and uh, I guess I could sleep on the couch–”

“Nono, your bed! Stay!” Comet urged him. Gary gulped and nodded in agreement.

“I’m going to go shower up and put on my pajamas so just get comfortable. If you want to shower up you can use it after me.” Comet nodded in agreement and Gary went and freshened up. By the time he came back, Comet was tucked in the bed and appeared to be asleep. Gary set an alarm for very early in the morning, put his phone on the charger on the night stand, and lifted the bedding only to discover Comet was in bed completely naked.

“I should have expected that,” he thought to himself. He slid carefully into bed positioning himself on the very edge so as to give the huge man at least 80% of the bed. (He’d once had a cat so he understood exactly how to do this.) The puffy weight of the down comforter pressed down on him comfortably. He turned out the light and as his head touched the pillow, Comet’s hand slid over his side and pressed against his tummy. In one swift move he felt himself yanked closer to Comet who immediately snuggled up against him in Big Spoon position. He felt a gentle, very light kiss on the back of his neck and then Comet started to breathe more deeply. Gary had enough time to think that having all these nice muscles pressed up against his back and legs was clearly was a very nice situation when sleep took him as well.

Version 1.21 12/24/2020

Mind Control
Wanking material
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