The flame in the fireplace cast a warm glow throughout Gwen's living room, the flickering light soothing her as she lay curled up in a blanket on her sofa, reading a book and sipping hot cocoa. Starting when she was little, she, along with her brother and sisters, always slept by the fireplace on Christmas Eve, eagerly anticipating Santa's arrival. And of course, once they had all inevitably fallen asleep, their parents would tiptoe in and lay all their gifts out. Then everyone awoke the next morning screaming and bouncing around with excitement, albeit slightly disappointed that they had snoozed through old Kringle's act of holiday philanthropy once again. "Oh well," they would think, "there's always next year."
As Gwen and her siblings grew older, the novelty of Santa Claus wore off, but they still continued the tradition. Then Gwen headed off to college, forced to abandon the tradition due to the creature comforts of cinder block dorm rooms and efficiency apartments. It wasn't until she graduated and moved into swankier digs that she finally reclaimed a fireplace.
Gwen had garnered quite the party girl reputation at her job. Office parties typically featured her as the center of attention, usually inappropriately dressed, and she often ended her evenings with drunken one-night stands. The office Christmas costume party was no exception, for which she dressed up as a Christmas tree and her breasts and buttocks were the "ornaments." She flaunted her decorations as much as possible, to much consternation from those of her coworkers who were not so physically blessed. The strife escalated when she ended up with the CEO's son that night, and later received a larger Christmas bonus than anyone else at her level. Of course, no one at the company could do anything about it, lest they be perceived by the CEO as jealous and petty.
However, there was one person that could do something about it.
When the fire in Gwen's fireplace suffocated itself, she perked an eye up from her trashy romance novel. Then she nearly jumped out of her skin as a large man bounded down from the chimney and into Gwen's living room. She screamed as the man got up and dusted himself off. He was wearing a Santa suit.
"Don't worry, Gwen," his old voice spoke through his white beard. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Get out of my apartment!" she shouted as she reached for the phone, worried that she might be about to live out every woman's worst nightmare. She had shed the blanket at this point, dressed only in a silver satin babydoll.
"The phone's been disconnected," the portly fellow interrupted her calmly. "But you just need to listen to me."
"Who are you?" she demanded. "And how do you know my name?"
"I'm Santa Claus," he said as if she should have known.
"That's not freaking funny."
"What, you want proof?" he asked, then turned back to the fireplace and whistled loudly. "Go look out your window," he said as he turned back to face her.
Not really sure what to expect, Gwen did as she was instructed and glanced out the glass door leading to her balcony. Sure enough, about 25 yards off in the air, she could see a sleigh being pulled by reindeer. "I'll be damned," she muttered in disbelief.
"Ho ho ho!" Santa laughed heartily.
"So what do you want?" she asked.
The jolly old man reached into his coat and retrieved a folded up piece of paper. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, holding it up in front of Gwen. "It's the 'Naughty' list."
"And I suppose I'm on it?" Gwen asked, hands on her hips.
"Correct," Santa replied, unfolding the paper and tapping on her highlighted name with a fountain pen.
"So what, I'm going to get a lump of coal instead of a new bike or a pony?" Gwen retorted sarcastically.
"Well, that's pretty cliche, actually. Normally for minor indiscretions we require a little service time in exchange for naughtiness; you know, doing odd jobs for me and the elves on Christmas Eve, anything that helps spread Christmas Cheer. However, for more extreme naughtiness the punishment is a little more severe... and I'm afraid that your case is the most extreme I've had in this locale in years."
Gwen laughed. "Let me guess... I've got to shovel raindeer crap all night, is that it?"
"Not quite," St. Nick corrected her. "It's extra special."
"How could it be worse than cleaning up after reindeer? You don't really expect me to do it, do you?"
"Of course not. That's why I'm not giving you a choice." The old man put a check mark next to Gwen's name on the list and returned it to his coat.
"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded. And then she felt it: a slight gurgling inside. It vanished as soon as it appeared, but then it came back more intense a moment later. Gwen looked down and drew her hands to her tummy, able to feel the bubbling through the satin gown.
"It means you don't have a choice," Santa repeated. "That is, not this year. Next year, you have a choice of whether or not to try to make it onto the 'Nice' list."
Gwen almost jumped when she felt - and saw - her stomach bulge outward, still grumbling from within. "What are you doing to me?!" she shrieked.
"This is your punishment for being at the top of the 'Naughty' list," Santa replied nonchalantly.
"But you're not even supposed to be real!" she shouted back.
"Not believing in Santa Claus is grounds for 'Naughty' classification," he pointed out.
No longer did the loose nightie hide what was swelling inside; Gwen's formerly flat belly was growing steadily larger. In what seemed like less than a minute, she looked a few months pregnant. "This is ridiculous," Gwen proclaimed. "This has to be a dream."
"I assure you it most definitely is not a dream," Mr. Claus explained. "Excuse me a moment." He reached for the stoker next to the fireplace, then reached it up into the flu and clanged it around for a couple seconds. Gwen only watched confusedly, holding the sides of her expanding midsection. The gown was pulled tight around her waist, gratuitously advertising her new curves. Her belly button, now inverted, poked its way through the material. The satin was beginning to ride up on her body, slowly exposing more and more of her thighs.
A few seconds later, two diminuitive figures tumbled down the chimney and out of the fireplace. One was a man, and the other a woman, and they were dressed up like---
"Elves?" Gwen cried. "What the hell is going on?"
Santa returned the stoker to its stand and directed his gaze at the elves. "I'll be in the sleigh when she's ready," he instructed them.
"Ready for what??" But Santa was already climbing back from whence he came.
The elves tottered over to Gwen and inspected her belly more closely. "You will do very nicely," the girl elf said, smiling.
"Get away from me!" Gwen shouted, turning away and wrapping her arms around her stomach as if to protect it. When she did so, she was surprised at just how big it had become. Her belly had exceeded any size normally achieved through pregnancy, and she could barely reach around it at this point. The babydoll was skin tight all over, with no more excess hanging down in front. With the gown pulled up, her panties were now visible beneath her giant tummy. "Why are you doing this?"
"We're not supposed to tell you yet," the other elf said. "But don't worry, no physical harm will come to you."
"No physical harm?!?" Gwen shouted. Her thighs were beginning to plump up now, and her ass soon began to test the integrity of her panties. She motioned with her head to a frame hung on the wall across from her. "Look at that photo!" The photo was of a bunch of college girls at a sorority formal a year or so prior. Gwen was at the front of the group wearing a slinky dress and jutting her hips out, exhibiting her pride for her figure. "Turning that body into this fat mess sure sounds like physical harm to me!"
"It's not fat, it's air," the girl elf corrected her.
"You think that makes a difference?!?" Gwen's hips were now swelling wider to accomodate her various growing assets. Her belly stuck out a couple feet in front of her, the babydoll still trying to contain as much of her as possible. Even still, a generous portion of her underbelly was now exposed. Her panties were firmly wedged between her inflated buttocks. "God, my ass is so huge!"
"And it's not even the biggest part!" the boy elf chimed, gently slapping the bare part of her tummy.
"Don't touch me!" Gwen screamed, and tried to waddle away. She was hindered by her enlarged legs, which rubbed together as she tried to shuffle out of the way. She was already growing so large and wide that she couldn't even see the elves anymore, their miniature size dwarfed by her blimping body. Her arms were starting to fatten up now as well, making them harder to move. Her legs spread apart as they continued growing wider. She felt the bottom of her gown ride up past her belly button. She frantically tried to waddle again, but she was already far too large to do it effectively.
Through it all, her eyes remained locked on the photo on the wall, her thoughts fixated on that thin body she loved to show off. She then caught a glimpse of her reflection in the TV, and lay there stunned at the humiliating fatass she was becoming. Her slim waist was gone, her athletic stomach a memory. Her firm little butt was anything but little anymore. Her legs were so wide that they were growing into the rest of her body now. Her breasts were doing the same, having swelled briefly before being overtaken by the rest of her mass. Another insult came as her panties, so stretched across her rounding surface, finally ripped.
Her perfect figure had been destroyed, leaving her a giant fleshy blimp.
Nearly spherical and completely helpless, Gwen's feet left the floor as her legs disappeared completely. Her arms did the same. She could only wiggle her hands and feet as she felt one of the elves touch her down below. With a gentle push, she was rolled to the side until her head was near the floor. The girl elf then walked into Gwen's view.
"I demand that you stop this!" screamed Gwen. "Turn me back to normal!"
The girl elf did not respond, but instead reached for Gwen's gown. "You won't be needing this anymore," she said, grasping the thin straps.
"No, don't!" Gwen yelled, but it was too late. It only took a slight tug to cause the smooth gown to slide off the globe it adorned, robbing Gwen of her last bastion of dignity.
The elves closely inspected their bounty, running their hands along her sides despite Gwen's meaningless objections. Even though she was fully round now, she was still growing larger. When her body began to brush against the blades of her ceiling fan (which was off, thank goodness), the male elf finally spoke up. "Ok, she's ready."
"Ready for what, dammit!! Answer me---" Gwen's demands were cut short as she was being rolled again. How horrible her fate to be reduced to being tumbled about like a child's ball! She still could not get the image of the photo out of her mind. She felt her ass (or what was once her ass) bump into the fireplace. The elves kept pushing, and soon she was partially wedged in the lintel. "What are you doing?" she cried.
"We're pushing you up the chimney," the girl elf said.
"Are you crazy? I'm HUGE!" Nevertheless, the elves continued squeezing her in, and Gwen actually began to feel her body forcing its way into the fireplace and up the chimney, filling every available inch of space. Before too long, only her head and "shoulders" protruded into the living room. "How is this possible?"
"Christmas magic," the elves replied.
"Hard not to believe in it now," Gwen thought. The whole experience was becoming - hell, it already WAS - very surreal. After a few minutes, Gwen was upside down in the flu, still being pushed up through it. She felt her crotch breach the top of the chimney first, the cold wind blowing against it. Then her feet were through, and then her waist and hands. With one final push, she popped free of the chimney and shot straight up, then floated down and bounced off the roof down to the ground below. She gently came to rest upright, outside the porch of her neighbor's apartment. And not just any neighbor, but the one that she had been flirting with ever since she moved in.
To her horror, he was home, and even worse, he was in his living room watching TV. "Please don't let him see me," Gwen thought, helplessly flapping her hands as if that alone would remove her from view. She could still feel herself inflating, easily 9 feet wide at this point. She wondered if it would ever stop... and more importantly, if she would ever be normal again. There would be nothing for her to live for if she was stuck as some grotesque human balloon for the rest of her life.
Inevitably, the neighbor did catch a glimpse of something odd out of the corner of his eye, and put down his remote control as he got up to investigate. Gwen wanted to scream, but instead shut her eyes and remained silent, hoping in vain that maybe he wouldn't recognize her. She cringed as she heard a sliding glass door open, and then a pregnant pause.
"Gwen?"
"Dammit!" she thought, and opened her eyes as she prepared to say something. But a gust of wind kicked up and rolled her backwards, giving her neighbor a very unflattering view of her underside. She heard his door close, presumably (and hopefully) to make a phone call, but no sooner had he returned to his apartment than she felt two pairs of tiny hands on her sides. The elves rolled her around the side of the building to the parking lot, where Santa was waiting in his sleigh. Gwen felt something like handcuffs being placed on one of her wrists, but she was too dizzy from the trip - and too overwhelmed by the whole experience - to do anything about it. The sleigh was airborne in a matter of minutes with its pressurized cargo in tow, bobbing and twisting in the wind as it rode in the sleigh's wake. Gwen lost consciousness as she watched the ground recede beneath her.
---
Gwen awoke to the dull roar of a crowd. When she opened her eyes, she was nearly blinded by a strange red light. Giving her eyes a moment to adjust, she tried to focus on the source of the light. Then she realized it was coming from her.
Not entirely at least, but she was reflecting it. Her entire body was shiny and red, almost like a Christmas ornament. Looking past the sheen of her skin, she saw a crowd of people below her. There were signs also... signs that she recognized. She was in the atrium of the city mall. And all the lights shining off of her were coming from behind, from the mall's giant 30-foot Christmas tree.
A man she didn't know walked up to her and knocked on her side. How strange the sound it made, almost the sound of someone tapping on glass. "We're gonna hoist you up now," the man said.
Then it all made sense. She had been turned into a giant glass Christmas ornament, and was about to be hung from the tree. And she was trapped in her own body, able to see and hear but not move or speak.
There was a jolt as she felt the ropes around her wrists tense up, and she heard the motorized pullies above groaning as they attempted to lift her. Being made of glass must have made her heavier, she thought. The crowd in attendance cheered as the giant ornament left the ground and rose higher. Gwen flashed back to what Santa had said: "...anything that helps spread Christmas Cheer." Gwen realized that she was, once again, the center of attention.
And she liked it, succumbing once again to the intoxicating feeling of having all eyes on her. The closer the ceiling came, the more she was able to ignore the extreme awkwardness of her condition. After all, it was at least a little humorous. She would have laughed if she could have.
Then one of the cables broke. Gwen pivoted on her other wrist, supported by only the one cable now. The crowd gasped and inched backward, their glorious Christmas ornament swinging precariously 15 feet above the floor. Then the second cable, unable to support her weight by itself, snapped as well.
Gwen would have screamed if she could have.
As she hit the floor, Gwen exploded into a brilliant shower of shattered glass. Calamity ensued as the crowd evacuated the atrium, covering their heads. The tiny shards flew as much as 20 feet from the point of impact before finally coming to rest.
With the mall empty, an old man stood up from his chair and brushed the pieces of Gwen off his red jacket. Two elves came walking up the carpeted path that had been occupied by parents and their children only minutes before. Santa walked to the nearest janitor's closet, glass crunching under his boots, and pulled out brooms and dustpans. "Make sure you don't miss any spots," he said, and they began sweeping up what was left of the naughtiest girl in town.
---
The light of dawn began to creep through the windows as the sun rose on Christmas morning. The fireplace was still crackling as Gwen woke up. She was alive! It was all a dream! She laughed and jumped from the couch to celebrate, before realizing that she hadn't jumped. She was still rotundly inflated, sitting in the middle of her living room.
"Okay, maybe it WASN'T a dream," she thought.
"Merry Christmas!" came a jovial voice from behind.
Gwen craned her neck around to find Santa Claus in her kitchen, nursing a mug of hot chocolate. "You again! Last night, how did you... I mean, I fell and... now I'm---"
"Ah," Santa held up a finger to stop her. "Christmas magic."
"Right," Gwen replied, surmising that she probably wasn't going to get a better answer. "But what was the point? Why turn me into a giant Christmas ornament?"
"Remember what I said?" the fat man asked. "Those on the 'Naughty' list have to help us spread Christmas cheer, and you certainly did that last night. The people loved you... at least, until you exploded into a million pieces. We weren't planning on that."
"But why put me back together if I'm so naughty? And why am I still like THIS?" She gestured down at her body with her head.
"Remember, I said you would never be hurt. And we thought it would be funny to keep you like this for a little while longer."
"'Funny,'" Gwen deadpanned. "So, what happens now? Am I on the 'Nice' list now that my punishment is over?"
"Ahhh, if that were so, you would be deflated enough to put your hands around my throat. No, you are going to be on probation for a little while yet. You'll have to earn your way off of the 'Naughty' list, and in your current state I imagine you'll have a hard time screwing up. Think of it as a forced rehab."
"And how long is this probation supposed to last?" Gwen asked, thunking her hands against her sides.
"Midnight of New Year's Day. Nothing like starting off the new year right!"
"What?! I have to wear a formal dress for a New Year's Eve party!"
"Might want to look into getting it altered." Taking a final swig from the mug, he set it on the counter and walked around the bar toward the front door. "Be nice for a week, and you'll fit into that dress when the clock strikes 12. But each naughty act will add another week to your probation." Santa put his hand on the door knob. "In the mean time, I think you have someone here to see you. Ho ho ho!" Santa opened the door and walked through, his heavy boots clodding against the concrete breezeway of her apartment building.
And suddenly, her neighbor - yes, THAT neighbor - appeared in the doorway. "Oh no!" Gwen thought, her mind racing. "What will he think of me now?"
With wide eyes, he stepped forward and placed both hands on Gwen's gentle but incredibly stretched skin. "Wow," he said, rubbing the perfect orb of her body. "You look awesome."
Gwen blushed and smiled, relieved at his reaction. "Um... hi, Luther."
---
Santa learned that day that the word "naughty" can have many connotations.
Gwen never fit into the formal dress again.