The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Dec 24th.

As Richard walked into Santa’s grotto in the now empty, and deserted Shopping Mall: the Elf dressed Richard came upon a pretty interesting sight.

Four weeks ago, Richard had been a gay-bashing homophobic asshole, just like all of the other Elves that had worked over the years, in Santa’s grotto in the Shopping Mall outside of town. None of the Elves were ever seen, or heard of again, after the Mall closed , on the 24th. Richard, and all the other jocks, over the years; had been summarily hypnotised by Santa, when they had had their interview, for the job of elf at the grotto in the Mall. All of them, in their interview had experienced the same near-religious “awakening” (They were Gay: And that Santa was their Santa Daddy, and Master).

After that first meeting, the jocks would work as Elves at the Grotto, while after hours they were being brainwashed, dumbed down, and taut the tricks of their new trade and life. Within a mere two days of that first meeting, they would become totally educated in the ways of gay sex and so they all could be sold, after the grotto closed on the 24th. Earning, Santa, $1000,00’s for the mindless, trained man; who had been sold to Masters in the Middle East.

“Mmm…mmm….mmph!?…Mmm!” Was the sound Richard hear as he walked into the grotto, In front of him, in the middle of the grotto, bound to a St. Andrew’s-style cross which hung from the ceiling of the grotto was the writhing, hairy, muscular form of Fenchurch Hassel, the current Sheriff of the town of Marrickville Forest. The Sheriff seemed, evidently not to be in trance; Hassel seemed to had been busy moaning around the ball gag stuffed in his mouth, his big, fat, leaking cock flopping about as his muscular ass was being power-fucked from behind by Santa.

When Sheriff Fenchurch Hassel had caught sight of Richard he’d started bleating not in submissive pleasure but in fear of a member of the public recognising who he was and that he was getting fucked by another man, and that man being Santa.

“It’s been—what? Nearly a year now since I re-enslaved this guy, what was it before that? What some 15 years or so; but I let him keep his self-awareness this time. And he’s still not aware, or doesn’t know I’m the one running the whole operation? Either he’s stupid or he’s been purposefully keeping himself in the dark, so ramping up the paranoia, in this town”’ Richard looked totally shocked at what he saw, he was just about to say something, when Santa smirked at Richard, “Santa Daddy’s little boy wants a feel of that cock?”.

On hearing those words, Richard’s eyes glazed over, and he stood silent and still for a few seconds; then Richard stridden up to the straining, whimpering muscled Sheriff and playfully batting at his hard-on. “Mmmm!” Hassel moaned in response, grinding his butt back onto Santa’s cock.

“A little from Column A and little from Column B. But I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now, eh Fenchurch? Unless I tinker with your memories again. Now, remember back to that time when you were in your final year of school, and you had returned home from that out of state high school you went to, for the Holidays?”

“Remember back to that visit your father made you take; to bring your 7 year old brother to my grotto. Remember back to when I made you believe you seriously needed someone to fuck you, and Cum in your ass or you’d turn into a crazy, slutty, cock-addicted whore? Well…I mean…not that you do remember, but, well…I mean you’ll get the idea of what happen!”

Santa snapped his fingers; and Hassel remembered.

15 years ago: Dec 24th .

Snow was falling heavily, as Fenchurch Hassel stepped off the Grey Hound Bus; ‘The Fucking old man couldn’t even be bothered to meet the Fucking bus!’ He thought, ‘It’s Fucking bad enough that he wouldn’t pick me up from school, without this Bull-shit as well.’ Fenchurch shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder, and started walking through the snow towards the pay-phones. Stepping up to one, he dropped his bag on the snowy ground, fished some change from a pocket, fed some coins into the slot, and dialled his home number.

Fenchurch stood for several minutes, listening to the ringing tone of his home’s phone. He slammed down the receiver, and was just about to storm off, to find some ride home; when he heard a voice behind him, “I thought it was you?” Fenchurch spun round. Standing looking at him was his father; but not a smile on his face. Fenchurch know that look, “Hi Dad!”, he said; Fenchurch’s father just nodded his head.

Fenchurch’s father was a man of little words, and even littler love towards his family. But he was very good with his hands, and his belt; beating the shit out of his sons. But he never touch his wife, who had passed away 7 years ago just after the birth of their youngest son. All this flashed through Hassel’s mind as he and his father stood looking at each other.

Fenchurch looked past his father, not far behind his father was parked the family station wagon; in the back seat Fenchurch could just make out through the steamed up windows the small figure of his youngest, 7 year old brother. Fenchurch’s father didn’t even give him a chance to speak before he said, ”You’re taking your brother to see Santa at the Shopping Mall!” Fenchurch opened his mouth to protested but his father cut him off, before he could say anything. “Your brother Vern as gone missing, he should have been here late last night, or early this morning. But he has not arrived. After I’ve dropped you and you brother at the Mall, I’m going to see the Sheriff. I’ll pick you both up outside the Mall in about two hours!”

There was a lot that Fenchurch wanted to asked, but the look on his father’s face, put a stop to him speaking, or asking questions. Fenchurch climbed into the front seat of the car, his father throw Fenchurch’s duffel bag into the trunk of the car, climbed into the driver’s seat; and the car drove away.

At the Shopping Mall, Fenchurch stood in line with his brother too see Santa in his Grotto. His brother was in what Fenchurch call his ‘BRAT’ years. Fenchurch got very close to telling his brother that this Santa, was not the ‘real Santa’ but some guy the Mall hired to play him. As far as Fenchurch know it had been the same guy for as long as anyone could remember. Finally, Fenchurch and his brother got too see Santa, after which he and his brother waited outside the Mall to be picked up, by their father.

The two of them had not long to wait, before their father pulled up in front of them. Fenchurch watched as his father buckled his brother into one of the back seats. Suddenly, Fenchurch did not know why he blurted out, “I’m not going back with you. I’m going to see if I can find out anything about what might have happened to Vern!”

His father just looked at Fenchurch; then he said, “Fine, but don’t expect me to come and pick you up, later on!” And then without another word he climbed into the car, and drove away. Fenchurch watched the car disappear out of the parking lot. Fenchurch stood thinking for a few seconds; before pulling out of a pocket a packet of Cheroot Cigars and a light. It was snowing even heavier, now, Fenchurch stepped into a doorway, and light a Cheroot.

Fenchurch smoked two Cheroots, before he decided to have a look around the Mall, and see if anyone know anything about what had happened to Vern. Once inside the Mall, Fenchurch saw at once that the Mall was near to closing for the Holidays, many of the shops, had already pulled down their shutters, and even Santa’s grotto was now shut. A large card notice stood by the grotto’s entrance, it read: Closed for now. See you all next year. As he read the notice, Fenchurch heard a noise that might, or might not, be the sound of someone moaning.

He looked around but could not see anyone near-by. He heard the noise, again, only louder this time, it was coming from the closed grotto. Fenchurch stepped over the rope in front of the exist to the grotto, and walked in. “What the fuck??” He shouted at what he saw was going on in the grotto. Fenchurch stopped in front of the chair that Santa would sit in, when the grotto was open.

In the middle of the grotto, was one of the guys that had been an elf in the grotto; he was now completely naked, bent over with his ass in the air. Standing behind the guy was Santa, who was fucking the guy with a large rubber Dildo. The moans that Fenchurch had heard were coming from the guy, being fucked by the rubber Dildo. On hearing Fenchurch’s shout, Santa stopped Dildo fucking the guy, leaving the Dildo half way in the guy’s ass, Santa turned and looked at Fenchurch, “And whose a bad boy then?” Santa said.

“And Bad boys must be taut a lesson!” Santa continued slipping on a pair of dark glasses, and pulling a remote from his pocket. Everything happened so fast that Fenchurch did not have time to reacted. Santa pointed the trees in the grotto; and then pushed a button on the remote, instantly the lights on the trees began a slow, methodical flashing patten. Fenchurch found he could not take his eyes from of the flashing lights.

Santa moved nearer to Fenchurch, “See those lights, see how they make you want to obey. You feel happy. Happy, calm, relaxed, obedient, servile. Ready to please Santa Daddy, your master.” Santa lulled Fenchurch with his steady, calm voice, a constant soundtrack to the slow, methodical flashing of the tree lights. Fenchurch wanted to close his eyes, but could not take his eyes off of the flashing Tree lights. Santa kept lulling Fenchurch with his voice, Fenchurch could not look away from the flashing lights, slowly it felt like his mind was closing down.

“Got you’re”, Santa thought to himself as he watched the handsome Fenchurch’s eyes glaze over and his jaw slacken before slumping into the chair, staring off into nowhere.

“Hassel…can you hear me?” Santa asked, palming himself through his pants, his rock-hard cock straining to escape the confines of the tight red Jock-strap, he was wearing. Over the time Santa had already spent hypnotising Fenchurch, the bulge in Santa’s pants began, harder, and harder to hide from view.

“…Yes…” Came Fenchurch’s slurred reply.

“Good. I want you to listen very closely now to what I have to say, Boy!” Said Santa. “‘Firstly, whenever you hear me say the phrase “And how does that make Santa Daddy’s Boy feel?” you will return to this state of suggestible sleep you are in now, but only one hundred times deeper than last time you did so. Do you understand?”

“…Yes…” Again came Fenchurch’s slurred reply.

“Secondly, while you are in this state you are my Boy. You will refer to me as “Sire” and you will obey everything I command without question, Understood, Boy?”

“…Yes…Sire…”

“Good, Now, Boy. Answer this question, truthfully. Are you still a Virgin. If not, when was your cherry pick?” Santa stood waiting for the reply, “I’m not a Virgin. I lost my cherry last month on a field trip!” Richards replied.

“Excellent. And now thirdly, while you are in this state, any sexual contact you have with me, or other men will give you greater pleasure than anything you ever experienced when you lost your cherry, last month, with anal sex with me, or another man being by far the most pleasurable experience you’ve ever had. Understand, boy”

Fenchurch’s brow furrowed and he didn’t respond, he showed signs of doubt.

“Boy, you will obey everything I command, remember Boy? Do you understand your third set of orders, Boy?’ Santa said with authority, leaning over and getting up close into Fenchurch’s space, making sure the flashing tree light were reflected into the entranced Fenchurch’s unfocused eyes.

‘I…ugh…obey…I…understand…Sire.’

‘Good Boy,’ Santa said, pleased with Fenchurch’s proceedings; Santa run a hand up one of Fenchurch’s meaty thighs, ‘Fourthly, while you are in this state you will not come unless you are given explicit permission, by me to do so. Do you understand, Boy?’

‘Won’t…come…without…permission…Sire.’

“Good. Finally, whenever you hear me, use the phrase ‘you’ve been a good Boy’ you will awaken from this suggestible state calm, refreshed and content with no memory of what occurred whilst you were under my power. Any situation you awake to find yourself in you will rationalize away. Got it?”

“…Yes…Sire…”

“Good. Now, time for some fun, Boy!”

Sometime later, Fenchurch stood naked before Santa, his Suit, shirt, tie, shorts, socks and trainers were scattered across the floor of the grotto; the jock was lost in a pleasant, erotic, thoughtless void, his perfect, muscular body, shivering yet covered in a fine sheen of sweat as one of Santa’s hands languidly roamed up the jock’s torso to tease one of Richards’s peaked brown nipples while Santa’s other hand slowly moved up and down Fenchurch’s twitching, rock-hard shaft.

“Oh…ugh…fuck…yes… Fenchurch moaned as a particularly intense wave of pleasure washed over his mindless body, his cock spasming and flexing in Santa’s hand, Fenchurch’s piss-slit burping up a fresh dollop of pre-cum, which fell in a long string to the puddle of Pre-cum on the floor of the Grotto that had, for the last few hours, had been steadily growing. The jock’s balls were drawn up tight, cock primed to burst, but Fenchurch could not yet Cum, only his Sire could give him that permission.

“Good Boy. Yes…such a good boy…” Santa, whispered as removed his hand from Fenchurch’s nipple; and began too jerk his own cock to hardness, after getting hard, Santa blow his load all over Fenchurch’s abs: Santa’s dick-snot running in rivulets over Fenchurch’s hard muscles, and over Fenchurch’s own cock. The evidence of Santa’s two previous loads could be seen covering Fenchurch’s slack, stupefied face and running down his broad, muscled back, over his perfect bubble butt, and to drip down his crack.

Each load of Cum Santa shot over Fenchurch’s body sent shock waves of pleasure over Fenchurch’s Body; unlike any he’d ever experienced, so much greater than what he could give himself. Each time his body had seized up, his muscles clenched, his head lolled back on to his shoulder while his eyes rolled back into his head showing only the whites as his cock spasmed in Santa’s grasp, nearly exploding yet never quite being able to.

Santa continued to still stroke Fenchurch’s cock and occasionally reaching out to caress Fenchurch’s feverish, responsive body, sending jolts of pleasure directly to Fenchurch’s now continuously leaking cock.

“So close, aren’t you, Boy?” Santa whispered with wet, erotic heat into Fenchurch’s ear, licking and nipping at the lobe.

“Oh! Fuck! Ugh…oooooh….yeees…Sire…” Fenchurch moaned in response to Santa’s stimulation, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“You’ve been a good, Boy! Such a good, Boy. In a moment I’ll let you Cum, but first I’m going to give you one final command!”

“Anything…oh…ah…shit…Sire…”

“When you Cum, you will accept all the orders I’ve given you into the very core of your mind. They will not fade, you will not forget. They will stay with you until the day you die or the day I decide to remove them. They will be iron-clad. You will absolutely, positively be unable to deviate from them. You will always retain the potential to be triggered back into becoming my dumb-fuck, mindless, cock-slut, Boy. Understand, Boy?”

For a moment, after Santa had finished speaking Fenchurch experienced a brief moment of clarity.

‘What the fuck am I doing!? I’ve allowed my mind to be taken over. Allowed myself to be hypnotised by some sick, Santa hypnotist and he’s turned me into some kind of brainless, sexed-up, gay fuck-toy for his amusement. Now this sick pervert wanted to keep him under his control for as long as he wants!’ Fenchurch wondered.

“No fucking way!” Fenchurch managed to moan. “But I thought you wanted to Cum, Boy?” Santa whispered into Fenchurch’s ear before fucking it with his tongue. The pleasure started to flood back and Fenchurch’s mind started to cloud over once again. ‘Oh…!’ He moaned.

“Yes, Boy, your answer?’ Santa said, “No!…I need to fight…Not your Boy!” Fenchurch moaned. ‘Ugh…Ah!…fuck!’ Fenchurch’s cock was practically vibrating now, the Cum churning in his nut-sacs begging for release.

‘Cum on, Boy, say “yes”. You know you want. Relinquish your free will and become my Boy.’ Santa whispered fiercely into Fenchurch’s ear. Santa’s words echoed around inside Fenchurch’s head; Santa’s words destroyed all reason, and thought they came into contact with.

“No…not…your…Boy…not…your…Boy? I…am…Santa…Daddy’s…Boy…” Having said that, Fenchurch felt his mind totally cloud over as his consciousness was finally suppressed.

“Yes, Sire! Please! I’ll be Santa Daddy’s Boy! Just let me, Cum!” Fenchurch moaned like a mindless animal, his cock now a red-hot poker of absolute need. Santa chuckled let go of the jock’s twitching cock, and placed his hands on Fenchurch’s shoulders.

“I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking, before too long, Boy. You may Cum, Boy.”

Fenchurch felt his Santa Daddy’s programming click into place in his mind and then his body locked up, every muscle clenched, drenched in sweat and his Santa Daddy’s Cum, Fenchurch’s cock seeming to expand in his hand until finally…

‘OH FUCK YES!!!’ Fenchurch roared as his cock practically exploded. Thick, white ropey jets of his Cum hosed down the floor, that his Santa Daddy had previously occupied twenty seconds before. Over time the flow lessened, and then it finally petering out.

Later still in Santa’s grotto in the silent Mall, Fenchurch lay on his back on one of the grotto’s displays, his head propped up on some gift-wrapped boxes, and his ass hanging over the edge of the display as he held his legs up in the air. His cock stuck straight up, twitching and throbbing with pleasure, drooling pre-come which ran down his shaft in thickish rivulets.

“You’ve progressed more quickly than some others had by this time, I think it’s time to make that final breakthrough didn’t you, Boy?” Santa had said when he was satisfied with Fenchurch’s position; Santa then moved to a door at the back of the grotto, it looked like a door to an office, but in fact it was a door to a closet, “Now too finally finish you off, I’m going to move on to something completely different!”

“Anything, Sire!” Fenchurch moaned readily as his cock gave a particularly pleasurable pulse.

“Good, Boy.” Santa Daddy praised as he opened the door to the closet, revealing a large, muscular guy, with a snake, and Stars and Stripes Tattoos covering the whole of his left arm. The guy was in a leather hood and harness., and his legs were spread apart by a bar that was attached to his ankles and his large, muscular arms were held over his head by a pair of padded cuffs hook to the ceiling of the closet.

A ‘Deep Penetrate’ fuck machine was between the guy’s legs repeatedly fucked a thick, extra-large, fist shaped, black, rubber dildo up into the guy’s ass; causing the guy’s hard, sweaty body to shake with each thrust and his massive hard-on to flop around, slapping up wetly against his muscular lower stomach.

None of this made any sense to Fenchurch, but he dimly seemed to recognise the Tats covering the guy’s left arm; but slowly that dim thought slipped from his mind. So Fenchurch simply lay where he was, waiting for Santa Daddy to tell him what to think, and do.

“How have the last couple of day treated you, Boy?’ Santa asked, twisting one of the writhing figure’s nipples. “Learned you’re lesson?”

‘Mmmph! Mmmph! Aaaah!’ The guy moaned in reply.

“Yeah that’s what I thought. I can’t imagine what it’s been like, with that vibrating column of pleasure dragging over your prostate for the last two days; and with you unable to achieve orgasm unless I tell you, you can, I think that by now, Santa Daddy’s little Boy must really want to Cum, by now!”

“Mmmm! Mmmm!” The hooded figure nodded and grunted “Well I’m of a mind to let you, stay right where you are, until its time too ship out to your new life and Master.” Santa Daddy said, “However, I will give you a break from the machine, to help me!” Santa Daddy continued, as he flicked a switch on the machine, that was ploughing into the guy’s ass; the flicking of the switch, seemed to cause the machine to stop.

‘Mmmm…’ The bound guy moaned, as he practically deflated in relief; but he continued to grind onto the fist shaped dildo embedded in his whole.

“If I could direct what’s left of your feeble mind to the display on your right of the grotto, you’ll notice that we have a guest!” Santa Daddy said as he unlocked the guy’s restraints; Santa Daddy led the guy out of the closet by his harness and his hard-on. The guy grunted as he was pulling off the dildo, ”‘I think you already know our guest, already, Boy!”

Fenchurch watched dreamily as Santa Daddy led the muscular man across too the Grotto to wear he lay on the display.

“Recognise your Bro? Well in a way, you’re responsible for him being here. You see if you had not returned early on leave from the Marines, to surprise your family, you would not have seen my little operation after the Mall closed. And I wouldn’t have had to take you, and punish you?”

What Santa was saying made no sense to Fenchurch: he could see the man’s eyes behind his leather hood widen in shock as he turned and looked at Fenchurch; then the guy desperately shook his head.

“You don’t have a choice in helping me, my friend. So understand, Boy, if you don’t help me, or do as your told; you won’t get to Cum, for a very long time, if ever.” Santa Daddy said sternly, causing the guy’s massive shoulders to sag in defeat.

‘So anyway Boy, where was I?’ Santa Daddy asked Fenchurch, as he walked up to where Fenchurch lay on the display; holding his legs apart, and his whole in the air; Santa Daddy then run his hands up Fenchurch’s upraised thighs, over his calves and then up to his feet, briefly tickling them. The jock giggled and moaned, his cock twitching, and a glob of Pre-Cum broke free from its tip, and fell on Fenchurch’s chest.

“Ah, that’s right, Boy! You’re now a slut for sucking cock, you can’t eat enough Cum and you’ve taken to rimming like a duck to water. But now, seriously, Boy, it’s time to train your whole!”

“My…whole, Sire?” Fenchurch mumbled, confused. “What did my whole have to do with anything?”

“Quite a lot, Boy!’ Santa replied, as he moved aside and motioned for the leather-clad guy to come forward and kneel between Fenchurch’s upraised legs, “we’ll start slowly first—just a nice, hot, wet tongue—and then after that…well…best not ruin the surprise, eh Boy?”

Santa Daddy turned and looked at the Rubber Man “Now, you can remove your hood and gag Vern. Don’t worry, your Brother here will recognize you, but it just won’t click, who you are!” Santa Daddy said.

Fenchurch watched as the man removed his hood, unzipping the black leather and pulling it off to reveal the sweaty, momentarily gagged and heavily, bearded face of Vern, his Brother.

“Sorry about this Bro. But Santa Daddy controls my body and head now, I’m one of his little Boys, and I can’t fight him”’ Vern said in a hoarse whisper.

“There’s no use in talking to him Vern, at this moment you’re Bro has no self-awareness. Right now Fenchurch is far, far away whilst his empty, slutty and totally obedient body fortunately remains right here”’

“Oh, Fuck…” Moaned Vern as he placed his hands on Fenchurch’s muscular thighs causing Richard’s to shiver as Vern leaned in.

‘Oh, fuck!’ Fenchurch shouted and flinched, almost falling from the display; as he felt the first touch of his tongue on his whole. This new sensation was utterly alien to Fenchurch, but, yet at the same time the new sensation was incredibly pleasurable.

“Oh, yes, yes oh fuck, yes!” Fenchurch moaned as Vern licked wet, hot stripes up and down his taint box, Vern’s whiskers tickled that sensitive area. Fenchurch’s eyes rolled back into his head and he grinned vacantly as he felt his cock disgorge its biggest volume of pre-come yet.

‘Fucking delicious.’ Santa Daddy whispered; Fenchurch opened his eyes to find Santa standing over him and Vern, holding a camera and groping his hard cock. Something about the sight of Santa groping his hard member; triggered a hungry, lusty memory in Fenchurch, as he looked at the fat piece of meat straining in Santa’s grasp. Fenchurch licked his lips with wanton desire.

“Just look at this,’ Santa Daddy said with satisfaction, “The pride of the Marines on his knees eating out the willing ass of his own younger Brother: The two oldish Hassel boys, now just cock sluts. That’s a gorgeous fucking sight you don’t see every day” Laughed Santa.

“Ah! Ooooh…” Fenchurch gasped as he felt his Brother Vern’s tongue cease its stimulation of the outer ring of Fenchurch’s whole and then slip inside. Fenchurch spread his upraised legs wider and tried to scotch forward to increase the stimulation of Vern’ tongue.

“‘Such an eager whore, aren’t you now, Boy?” Santa Daddy chuckled, as he moved and stood over Fenchurch’s head; So that he had a full view of Santa’s hard, erect cock. Fenchurch looked at it longingly.

“You want my cock, Boy?” Santa Daddy asked, finally noting Fenchurch’s fixation. ‘Yes, Sire. Please, Sire, let me suck your cock, Sire!” Fenchurch begged, needing to feel the weight and girth and heat of Santa’s member pressing down on his tongue along with the salty leaking liquid that would fill his mouth. “Well, this is going swimmingly. Since you asked so nicely, Boy! Yes you may suck my cock.” Fenchurch slowly opened his mouth.

And soon both of Fenchurch’s wholes were receiving attention. Vern, his oldish Brother, and a Marine, eating out his ass and Santa Daddy ploughing in and out of Fenchurch’s noisy, but accommodating throat, as Santa kept a hand on Fenchurch’s head, ensuring it would remain turned to the side so he could feed his cock to into Fenchurch’s drooling mouth.

Suddenly Vern’s tongue struck something deep in the core of his Brother’s ass, and Fenchurch saw stars. His whole convulsed along with his body as he moaned around Santa Daddy’s cock.

“Oh, oh yeah…moan like that, Boy” Santa Daddy laughed shakily, “That’s your prostate, Boy, the more stimulation it gets—with larger and larger, and thicker and thicker objects—the better that sensation will get, you will long for it, you will long for it so much, that you will believe that if you’re not fucked in the asse, that you will become a crazy, slutty, cock-addicted whore!”’

Hassel could only groan around the massive hunk of meat stoppering his mouth as he gazed at anta Daddy’s torso; his eyes totally glazed over and unseeing as Vern continually struck that special place inside his whole. Fenchurch could feel that his cock had at some point burped up such a quantity of Pre-Cum his crotch was practically soaked in it; it ran down the sides of his hips, pooled in his belly-button, and over his drawn-up sacs.

“Okay Vern, your Bro is at peak stimulation. He’s ready. Vern continue to stimulate Fenchurch’s prostate, don’t let up. Now grab his cock; and masturbate him as hard and as furiously as possible!” On hearing Santa Daddy’s words, Fenchurch felt a calloused hand wrap around his leaking, twitching girth and he moaned loudly, thrusting up into the grip. Vern began roughly masturbated Fenchurch’s member.

“Boy, grunt once if you can hear me.” Santa Daddy said to Fenchurch. Fenchurch grunted obediently even though it was quite a challenge with his body moving into sexual overload, and Santa Daddy’s fat cock filling his mouth and throat. “Cum now, Boy.” Ordered Santa.

Fenchurch’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, as his body locked up and his cock exploded, fountains of Cum shot into the air, the fluid raining down upon and painting Fenchurch’s muscular body. On and on it went as Fenchurch experienced seemingly endless convulsions of sexual pleasure. Santa Daddy had to hold Fenchurch down and command Vern to do so as well. During this ordeal Fenchurch felt his Sire’s cock paint his throat with what felt like endless loads of cock-snot and he immediately guzzled it all down.

Finally, Fenchurch’s orgasm wound down and he relaxed limply, still twitching over the display, his muscular limbs flopping weakly over the sides. Santa Daddy pulled his cock out of Fenchurch’s mouth

The last thing Hassel experienced before Santa Daddy commanded him to sleep was Vern’s fat, erect cock invading his mouth and exploding an even greater volume of Cum down his throat than what he had swallowed prior. Santa Daddy commanded Fenchurch to sleep.

Sheriff Hassel remember all of this; he also remembered his first two Fucks, the first was from Santa Daddy, the second was from Vern. He remembered being Fucked by an endless amount of guys in Santa’s grotto; while Vern and the other guys, that Santa Daddy had enslaved’ were led out of the mall to be shipped off to the Middle East, to lives of permanent Gay Slavery.

Richards remember spending Two day in a closet somewhere, in a leather hood and harness., with legs were spread apart by a bar that was attached to his ankles and his arms were held over his head by a pair of padded cuffs hook to the ceiling of the closet.

A ‘Deep Penetrate’ fuck machine was between his legs repeatedly fucked a thick, black, rubber dildo up into his ass; causing Fenchurch’s, sweaty body to shake with each thrust and his hard erect cock to flop around, slapping up wetly against his lower stomach. Fenchurch remembered the beating he recurved from his father for the days he had gone missing.

But most of all Sheriff Hassel remembered that he was not the oldest of old man Hassel’s sons. Fenchurch remembered that he had an older Brother, called Vern, who was a year older than him, he remembered that Vern had joined the Marines; he remembered what had happened to Vern. But most of all Sheriff Hassel remembered that Dec 24th in Santa’s grotto after hours in the Shopping Mall, when he was 18, and what was done to him, and Santa Daddy taking away from him, both the memory of, and his oldest Brother Vern?.

15 years later: Dec 24th.

Richard continued batting the Sheriff’s hard-on; While Santa Daddy continued to power-fuck the Sheriff’s ass. Fenchurch moaned in sexually frustrated despair.

“So what can Santa Daddy do for you, Boy?” Santa Daddy asked casually, Richard was totally under Santa’s power, and did not need the trigger, but Santa like to make sure of his control, over his ‘Boys’. Santa leaned his head on one of the shoulders of his Sheriff sex-toy, he was power-fucking; then Santa crossed his arms around Fenchurch’s hairy barrel chest, and nibbled the Sheriff’s ear lobe.

“All of Your Boys, are ready for pickup and delivery to their Masters, Santa Daddy!’ Richard replied in a flat, empty voice, while he idly masturbated the bound hunky Sheriff’s leaking, twitching cock.

“That good, Boy.” Santa said over the renewed din of Sheriff Hassel’s moans. “Now go back and join your fellow Elves. You don’t want to miss shipment to your new life, and Master do you, Boy?” Santa Daddy asked, as he thrust deeper into the Sheriff’s whole. “No, Sire!” Richard said, in his flat, empty voice, as he turned and left the Grotto.

Santa Daddy smiled as he felt his balls tighten; with one final hard thrust into Sheriff Hassel, Santa Daddy let out a loud cry. His member deposited large wads of Cum into Fenchurch’s gut, and filled his whole. The long forgotten memories, of 15 years ago faded from Sheriff Hassel’s mind: Sheriff Hassel let out a whimper, as he hung limply from the St. Andrew’s-style cross hanging from the ceiling of the grotto, Santa Daddy’s cock still buried deep in his arse.