Contains: accelerated weight gain, behind-the-scenes encouraging.
Continuing my proud tradition of posting holiday-themed stories after the holiday itself has passed. Chalk it up to me getting in the holiday spirit on the holiday itself and then being inspired.
The brainstorming for this story started when I was chatting with justgiveme1username and I mentioned that I wouldn’t be able to discretely make my gainer shakes while I was visiting my parents for Christmas. This started a convo about the various hilarious ways I could try to pass it off like a normal shake, which eventually lead to talking about leaving the shake for Santa instead of milk, and the hijinks that would ensue from there. justgiveme1username came up with a lot of the beats for this story, so thank you to him!
Synopsis: An encourager leaves Santa a glass of shake and cookies on Christmas Eve instead of milk and cookies, not telling him it’s a gainer shake. When Santa enjoys the shake, he heads to the kitchen, where the encourager promised him even more shake. Little does he know just how powerful the shakes can be…
Santa slid down the chimney into a small but cozy one-floor house, the kind often inhabited by young singles or couples, depending on their financial means. It seemed this house belonged to the former, for the interior design was minimal and practical. The living room he’d slipped into had a couch, a recliner, and a TV on a stand, with little else adorning the room. The closest thing to decoration was the shelves of DVDs and games that adorned the walls. Exactly the kind of bachelor pad he’d been to many times before.
But Anthony hadn’t made the kind of lewd requests of Santa that so many bachelors had before. Nor had he asked for something expensive like a couch or a game console. Just a few older, hard-to-find movies and games that he was probably nostalgic for. Santa was happy to fulfill that request.
As Santa put the gift-wrapped plastic cases under the small, plastic tree with a single string of lights around it and no more than a dozen ornaments, he smiled at the modest but earnest decorations. “I hope you have a good Christmas, Anthony,” he whispered, before returning to the fireplace to enjoy the milk and cookies Anthony had left out.
The cookies were peanut butter blossoms, much to Santa’s delight, as not many people left those out. But upon closer inspection, Santa saw that the glass didn’t seem to contain milk. The mixture had a light brown color, and upon being picked up, proved to be more viscous than milk. To Santa’s greater surprise, there was a handwritten note laid by the plate:
Santa, I’m sure you must get tired of drinking milk at every house you go to, so I thought I’d mix it up. This is a recipe I’ve been working on for a peanut-butter chocolate milkshake. Think of it like a shake version of a peanut butter blossom cookie. If you don’t like it, I’ve left the actual cookies out for you to enjoy instead. If you do, there’s more in the kitchen. Merry Christmas! Anthony
After putting the note down, Santa looked at the glass in his other hand. With a shrug, he brought it up to his lips and took a sip.
Santa was certainly no stranger to milkshakes, but there was something special about this one. The flavors of peanut butter and chocolate danced around his tongue like visions of sugar plums. The shake was especially decadent, like Anthony had made it with mostly ice cream and just enough milk to make it liquid. But it wasn’t thick like those kinds of shakes. Rather, it was thin enough to drink easily.
As such, Santa drank down the delicacy fast enough that he surprised himself. He wasn’t sure what Anthony had been so doubtful about; it was delicious. And though he had many more houses to get to that night, he decided he could spare a few moments to drink some more. After putting the glass down, he walked into the kitchen, stumbling a bit before he got his footing.
Upon stepping into the kitchen, Santa’s eyes went wide and his mouth hung open at what he saw. Filling the counter were about two dozen gallon-sized jugs, all filled with the shake. It almost seemed too good to be true. But given how modest Anthony’s request had been, maybe he was just the kind of generous spirit that enjoyed doing nice things for other people. After all, he was on the nice list.
Walking to one side of the counter, Santa picked up the rightmost jug, finding it heavier than he expected. After popping the top off, he brought the opening to his lips and started drinking. He was delighted to find that the shake in the jug was just as good as the shake in the glass, with the benefit of not having formed a skin from being left out for so long. It seemed like he’d be the one having a holly jolly Christmas that night.
With the shake being so delicious, it didn’t take Santa long to finish the whole thing. He let out a lengthy burp, confident his magic would keep him from waking Anthony. Indeed, as he drank the second jug of shake, he didn’t hear any stirring in the rest of the house. Thankful that he’d be able to enjoy the shakes in peace, he opened a third jug and kept drinking.
The shakes sat heavy in Santa’s belly, his bowl of jelly feeling more like a bowl of pudding as he drank. But that was to be expected; milkshakes weren’t precisely light and refreshing, and he wouldn’t have wanted a drink of that description anyway. He certainly wouldn’t have drunk five jugs of such a drink–or was he on his sixth? But this shake was worth drinking in excess, and so he kept going. Even though, around the eighth or tenth shake, he found maneuvering through the kitchen more difficult.
But the shakes’ richness was hard to resist. There was something so decadent and indulgent about them, intensely flavorful without tasting heavy, thick, or grainy. Somehow, Anthony had found a way to pack the shake with flavor without packing it with ingredients and making it difficult to drink. It seemed he’d been working on this recipe for a while, and his efforts were paying off.
When Santa had walked into the kitchen, he didn’t intend to finish all the shakes But the shakes were so delicious that he couldn’t stop drinking them. Even as his belly turned from a bowl of pudding to a bowl of fudge, feeling heavy with the decadent beverage, he just wanted to chug more and more. It wasn’t about savoring the flavor anymore; he just wanted to fill his belly with as much of the shake as possible. And as the number of jugs remaining dwindled, it seemed he’d do just that.
Nothing could stop Santa. Not even his decreased sense of balance, which left his wobbling along the counter as he kept drinking. Not even the shake dribbling down the front of his face until it soaked into his beard. Not even the leaden weight inside his belly, making him lean forward when he wasn’t leaning back to empty a jug. Not even the feeling of his eyelids getting heavy, as his body grew tired from the effort of holding in that much shake.
None of it could stand in Santa’s way. After one long trip across the kitchen counter, he put down the final jug with one more massive burp, followed by a groan. With his head hanging down, he kept a hand on the counter to try to steady himself.
When Santa opened his eyes wider, he saw that his belt had snapped, and his coat was hanging open with his belly spilling out. It seemed to have burst open at some point while he was guzzling the shakes. It was clear to see why; his belly had grown three sizes that night. Even Mrs. Claus’s decadent December dinners didn’t put weight on him like that, and that was their entire point.
“Did you enjoy the shakes?”
Santa turned his head to see a young man standing in the entryway to the kitchen, wearing a bathrobe and slippers. It must have been Anthony.
“How did you know I was here? My magic should have masked my sounds entirely.”
“I’m sure it did. But apparently your magic doesn’t make you incorporeal.”
“What do you–” but as Santa looked down toward Anthony’s feet, he saw two small, black plastic boxes on either side of the door frame. “A laser tripwire?”
Anthony nodded proudly.
“But how did it wake you? I didn’t hear an alarm.”
“Because I didn’t use one. That would have been a dead giveaway. I set up several LED flashlights to aim at my head and turn on when you tripped the sensor. I had a feeling you used magic to keep people asleep, so I set up a dozen, to make sure I woke up.”
“You’re determined,” Santa admitted. With care, he turned his body to face Anthony, finding maneuvering all that added heft to be a tall order. As he did, Anthony’s eyelids opened wider upon seeing all that red-clad girth. “But why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“If it was, I wouldn’t have asked.”
With a smirk, Anthony sauntered up to Santa Claus. Once their stomachs met, Anthony let one of his arms dangle over Santa’s shoulder, while he rubbed Santa’s belly with the other. The sensation made Santa jolt, though he couldn’t exactly jump back in surprise. “A few games and movies aren’t the only thing I wanted for Christmas.”
Looking down at Anthony’s hand with furrowed eyebrows, Santa asked, “What was in those shakes?”
“Heavy cream, peanut butter, canola oil, and some melted chocolate for taste.”
“Those were gainer shakes.”
“I’m surprised you know what a gainer shake is,” Anthony said as he kept rubbing Santa’s belly.
“Of course I do. Given how many stories I’ve been featured in that have me getting fatter, I should know.”
“My, my, Santa,” Anthony said, gripping Santa’s belly more tightly and shaking it. “You’re naughtier than I thought.”
“Oof!” Santa grunted as a jolt of pain shot through his jiggling belly. “Don’t–don’t do that. Oh goodness I’m full.”
“Come on, let’s sit you on the couch.”
With Anthony’s help, Santa was able to amble his bloated self back into the living room. He leaned back as he walked, forced to compensate for the shift in his center of gravity as his bowl of fudge pulled him forward. His belly looked big enough that if he’d tried to wrap his jacket around himself again, the sides would barely be able to meet in front of it. No wonder the belt had snapped.
Once the two reached the couch, Santa turned around and carefully lowered himself onto it. His stomach resisted being compressed as he bent down, leading to much grunting as he forced it to compress anyway. But eventually, his bottom reached the couch, and he un-tensed his muscles as he sunk more deeply into it. Letting out a sigh of relief, he extended his arms across the back of the couch. As he did, the sides of his coat were pulled away, revealing his mountainous belly in all its glory.
Anthony was quick to sit down next to Santa and rub that gargantuan gut with both of his hands. He was gentler this time, and Santa couldn’t deny that it felt good. Leaning his head down and looking at Anthony over his spectacles, Santa said, “You know you’re going on the naughty list for this, right?”
“This is probably the quickest anyone’s gone on the naughty list after getting their presents. And definitely the first time anyone’s gone on it for giving me milk and cookies.”
“No one’s ever messed with your milk and cookies before?” Anthony asked, his tone one of genuine curiosity.
“The people who think to leave them out are good-hearted enough to leave them be.”
The two were silent a while longer as Anthony continued caressing Santa’s belly. After a while, Anthony started pushing it around with a bit more force, not enough to disturb the contents inside, but enough to slosh his bowl of fudge around like it was still a bowl of jelly. Feeling his belly’s immense heft getting pushed around left Santa grunting yet again. “How long do you intend to keep me here?”
“I’m not taking you captive,” Anthony chuckled. “You can leave any time you want.”
After pondering for a moment, Santa leaned back into the couch. “Keep rubbing.”
Anthony did as instructed, rubbing Santa’s belly lovingly, making it apparent just how much Santa had grown. Although Santa wasn’t precisely thrilled about needing to adjust to his new size, he did enjoy the feeling of having his belly rubbed. There was a sort of intimacy in the gentle touch that he was quite fond of. He made a mental note to ask Mrs. Claus if she’d be willing to try that when he got back.
The belly rubs seemed to be helping Santa digest too. Which was important, because he’d have to return to his route, and he didn’t want to do so feeling too full to move. With his bowl of fudge having turned into a bowl of pudding again, he felt like he was ready to leave. “Alright, time to hit the skies again.”
“Would you like some cookies for the road?”
“Don’t push it,” Santa said as he struggled to lean forward. “But do give me a push.” With Anthony’s help, Santa was finally upright again. He still had to lean back to account for his new weight, but that was to be expected. Anticipating the cold outside, he used his magic to repair his belt and expand his coat to fit him.
“Will you be able to get up the chimney?”
“Of course! I was already too wide to fit down it when I came down. I’m sure my magic will help me back up.”
After waddling over to the fireplace again, Santa waved Anthony farewell, before he was lit up by warm light surrounding him. He wrapped his coat around himself as he was completely obscured by the light, and slipped back up the chimney.
Next thing Santa knew, he was falling back down, and came crashing into Anthony’s living room. “Oh, my head,” he groaned as he lay sprawled on the floor, his bare belly sticking up in the air like an igloo. Apparently he hadn’t finished buckling his coat before he started falling.
In spite of his surprise, Anthony didn’t seem too shaken. “Oh, geez, let me get you something cold to put on that!”
“Is it a gain-”
“It’s a gainer shake.”