Pantsing and Stripping Forums

With the clarification that only positive or constructive feedback is encouraged and negative feedback isn't allowed, I'll try sharing one Christmas story here again to see how it goes. Previously, I struggled with juggling three active stories at once. If this goes well, I can start a single new story when i complete this one.

David Lee Roth once said that those who put their head above the crowd are the most likely to get hit with a snowball. While I don't base my life entirely on his advice, I have to admit there's truth in that.

I also am not talking about love, run with the devil, have been very hot for my teacher(s), but I never made Jamie cry.

Let me first address (once and hopefully only once) why I left and decided to consider returning;

I feel like I should address why I left/what happened for those who may be wondering, and why I would return. I want to do so only once. If you don't care and want to get the girls to drop the linen and start the grinning, just scroll to the next post under this one. A lot of the women in this story have a high tolerance for humiliation - but that doesn't mean they can't feel it. Twatmas is a celebration of teasing ! Something this group of randy swingers do every year and they do it well.

However, if you want my take on it -and what I consider positive/constructive then please do take a minute to reflect upon what happened and what I learned from it.

I had a sign on my back for the malicious, who do not contribute anything but hatred to tear others down. Obviously, I am sure I still do have that sign. I fed the trolls by asking them to stop, and that was their sign to just go full bore - because they got under my skin. Accepting their hatred in silence would have still eaten away at my soul, though. Every chapter I posted, there was another post from one of them telling me that I sucked and I had no life - crapping all over the story, making all the readers wade through comments like that just to get to the next chapter, to see yet another flaming bag of troll turd on my doorstep. Every chapter - yet another reason the story sucks and I suck.

Step on the flaming bag of troll crap to try in vain to put it out, or let it burn by pretending they didn't leave it where I live (on my story)- it still stinks.

it doesn't matter what you do - it's still attached to the story. You can't educate, you can't out-troll, you can't get them to stop. Their time has no value -their goal is to take my time and yours. Just posting it over and over, and making me read it, would wear me down and dishearten me - which it did. I couldn't make it two days before I was done. It was untenable.

You can respond or ignore, but these two were empowered by the fact that the mods were too busy to stop them. Now, we have a new policy and a kindly moderator has agreed to enforce the policy. Why would I waste his gift, and not return?

My feelings before were that if they are allowed to scrawl their vile comments on the very story(s) that I am posting. I can't say boo back to them, or engage with them, eventually other readers who see their constant comments would come to believe my writing must deserve that kind of revulsion since the mods allowed it to continue. That's why I abandoned hope and packed up my tent, to find somewhere else. 99.99% of the users here would never do that, but the .01% who felt they could get away with, came for me with both barrels.

I hope the mods will create a safe place where creativity is encouraged. There are probably people on this forum right now with a good idea that WANT to write but fear that kind of negativity and simply don't want the ridicule. They'll almost never take the chance to discover that's how everyone of us started as authors. If we create a toxic cess pool where everyone has to learn to "Accept" constant harassment from trolls, the barrier to entry is too high for most to pay.

It's not worth it. I wasn't the only one they targeted (possibly still target). The only way to block here is to "put them on foe" which blocks their posts, they can still post on your thread/see what you write. They continued even after I had them on foe- presumably posting more vitriol after every chapter. Chapter after chapter, another post from them about why I should just stop writing. It was exhausting, especially on all three active stories.

Synopsis: This isn’t your typical holly-jolly jerk-off holiday story.—unless your average includes spiked eggnog, naughty reindeer games and wife-swapping. Horny Naked women, huge tits, wet pussies, and big butts. Nick just turned 18 and he wanted an invite to his family's adult party - they didn't think he was ready, so he showed up anyway. Illustrated with hand crafted images (by me). This has been one of my favorite stories to write in a long time. No hardcore BDSM/pain but tons of pink butts and hard cock.
Sex Contents: Some Sex
Genre: Coming of Age
Tags: Ma/Fa, Teenagers, Consensual, Teen Siren, Slut Wife, Incest, Mother, Son, Brother, Sister, Daughter, Humiliation, Light Bond, Spanking, Swinging, Exhibitionism, Massage, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Illustrated

Motivation:
I was going to write a "short" Christmas story because after my experience here with a wave of trolls maligning me personally for simply sharing stories, my interest in those stories was gone. I had put so much time and effort into them, only to experience a post on every update, on each story telling me to "Go outside and touch grass" and that my writing is sucky and boring that I just couldn't touch them without feeling disgust.

This was intended to be a fun palette cleanser - a quick Christmas story.

I've asked the two people responsible for me deleting hours of my work, to simply not reply on this thread (or any of my comments/threads ever) at all. Say nothing - I don't want an apology, I don't want a debate about why negative feedback is actually great, etc. I don't want anything from either of you, except to leave me alone, and I will do the same.

You know who you are; let's not rehash it. Let this be the end of it and ANY communication between us. Your silence on me and my work is all I desire.

Everybody else: If you have positive comments, or even better; constructive remarks, that's great. If you want to debate the relative value of "Free speech" to knock somebody down, theorize about my personal life/motivations, or tell me to "write something better/not suck as much", please do pass me on by.

I can't explain why negative feedback that tears down others and their work is not just worthless, but harmful, if you don't already understand, but I can show you the kind of feedback I appreciate versus the kind I don't.

Something that is worthless has no value and no impact. Trolling hatred and negativity has a cost -it makes people lose motivation and joy. It's less than just worthless. We all lose something by their very existence. It's not that no fucks would be given if these two were gone (and anyone like them). They never post a story, and they only tear down. It's that we could finally celebrate and not have to deal with them.


Trolls don't care. They have no motivation and joy; they don't know how to have joy and motivation. By stripping others of theirs, they think somehow they will finally have joy. It's a net loss for all parties. My joy, readers joy and the joy they never had = 0 or less than zero by the time they finish.

Here's an example paragraph, followed by the three types of feedback:

Classic ENF storyline:
I couldn’t believe this was happening. The moment I popped out of the water, sputtering and brushing my hair out of my face, I heard gasps and saw wide eyes. It was too late before I realized why. My bikini top was gone, floating a few feet away in the pool, and my hands shot up to cover myself. My cheeks burned as I looked toward my mom and younger brother, who both stood frozen, jaws dropped. Dad was trying very hard to pretend he wasn’t looking while my brother was pointing and laughing at what he called my 'itty bitty titties'.

Positive Feedback (Encouraging):
"You really captured Cassie's embarrassment vividly, especially with the detail of her dad awkwardly pretending not to notice—great use of family dynamics to add humor! I hope the swimsuit floats away and Cassie has to retrieve from the middle of a huge group of people!"

Constructive Feedback (Improving):
"The scene is clear, but you could enhance the emotional tension by including Cassie's inner thoughts or a moment of panic as she scrambles to retrieve her top. Earlier in the story she was spanked by her mom, so you might want to clarify if it's her butt cheeks burning or the ones on her face due to the increased humliation."

While Grammar and Spelling are essential, I often post rough drafts with the intention of coming back later to polish and edit so that I do not lose my inspiration while writing. I ask that you save those unless there is something particularly egregious that changes context.

Negative Feedback (Discouraging):
"This was poorly written and didn’t evoke any emotion—it felt lazy and flat. You suck, and why doesn't Cassie just get over it? It's just boobs. It happens all the time. BOrING! You must hate feedback if you don't love this. I am going to post it again next chapter, until you acknowledge I am supreme and give me attention that I can't get from my Mommy and Daddy or women."

You can tell I am still a little PTSD about the negative, right?


Why I can't just write a short story:

With just a couple days before Christmas, I really wanted to do a fun classic ENF story for the Holidays. In order to do that, I thought a short story would be perfect.

If you are a parent, you probably felt when your kid turned 18 that while legally an adult - they still aren't ready yet. My definition was;

• Are you living off me?
• Do you need Mommy and Daddy to help you pay your bills?
• Do you need me or mommy to schedule your medical appointments and remind you to go?
• If I yell "GET IN THIS CAR, RIGHT NOW!" will you still do it?

If the answer is Yes to any of these, you are still a puppy - just an older one.

That's the case with Nick here - he lives with Mommy and Daddy, final year of high school, rides his bike everywhere.

He's wanted to go to the adult party for years, and his older sister gets to go, but she didn't even go until she was 19.

In the Immortal Words of the Beastie Boys;
"He asks his Mom, 'Please!' But she still says NO!"

He feels the need to fight for his right to party, and shows up anyway. That's the premise! It was supposed to be simple. Naturally, at the party he meets a bevvy of characters. This Uncle Eddie, is slightly different than me in two ways.

1. His last name is Marshall.
2. He is married to someone that looks like Morgan Fairchild (Lucky Bastard!)

I felt the game needed a gregarious old pervert to be the Master of Ceremonies and I also wanted my alter-ego to enjoy the show.

I was just going to write a short little fun story about a salacious party, with a lot of pretty ladies. I am old school, so the epitome of 80's hot MILF to me, is and always will be Morgan Fairchild. What's hotter than Morgan Fairchild? Two Morgan Fairchilds, so why not make this woman who looks a lot like her into identical twins?

And give them slightly different personalities with hot, sexy Georgia Peach accents?

Okay, now you have my interest.

Why couldn't I tell a story in two or three chapters?

Simple: It was too much fun to write these characters in this situation. I had a whole lot of "Reindeer Games" to get through and I wanted to take my time with some and really have fun. If I post a chapter a day, even with what I have written, this story will go past Christmas. I am not even sure I'll have time over the holidays to edit and post daily.

When you fall in love with the characters, it's hard to let them go. They feel like dear friends, and people that you know. Which is why I am back here. There are people on this forum who in the short time I was posting inspired me to write more. You have no idea about anyone's personal situation, but I have been dealing with a lot of personal stuff related to job and health, and Christmas is particularly hard for me. It means a lot to me, especially those of you who also contacted me on SOL!

Why not put reality on hold for a while, and live in the happy world of people who celebrate Twatmas? Enjoy it through the eyes of a puppy who probably doesn't belong there, but is there any way?

I have two chapters pretty much ready to go. I'll post the first one.

Yes, it's illustrated, and no I won't apologize for it. I also had fun creating these images. It was not easy - I used a variety of tools. It would be nice if you could click an AI button and get it to easily separate the two, three or four LORA you are using for a shot with four different women in it. it doesn't. it merges them. It would be nice if you could upscale exactly what you want into the picture, but NSFW AI companies know their service doesn't have to be bad-ass like Midjourney and DaVinci and they don't offer the same robust features.

I enjoy the challenge, and every time I make these pictures I get a little better - just like writing. Enjoy.

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas and Nick Wanted to Be Invited to His Parents’ Party


I didn’t turn eighteen to still be treated like a kid. That was my opening argument to Harley, my sister, who was stretched out on the couch scrolling her phone. She had that look like she couldn’t be less interested in whatever I was about to say.

I had only just turned eighteen a few months earlier, but it was Christmas Eve, and my mom’s annual party had always been off-limits to me. My sister had been permitted to go the previous year and I wanted to be invited – I didn’t care what happened there. I just wanted the validation that I was an adult now – even though I still rode a bicycle everywhere and was still in high school.

“Nick, I just don’t think it’s possible,” she said, not even glancing up. “You can ask Mom, but she didn’t invite me until last year. And honestly? It’s really not your scene.”

“That’s what makes me want to go!” I said, leaning forward. “What is it? Drinking? Wild dancing? Strange religious customs? Are y’all sacrificing a reindeer or something?”

Her thumb froze mid-scroll, and she raised an eyebrow at me. “Sacrificing a reindeer? Really?”

“I’m throwing darts here,” I said. “You’re not giving me anything.”

She put her phone down and sat up, looking at me like I was some annoying kid asking too many questions. “It’s just not for you, Nick. It’s adults only. End of story.”

“But I’m eighteen now,” I argued. “That’s legally an adult.”

“Yeah, well, TECHNICALLY, an adult is more like it. I was eighteen before I got to go, and I wasn’t invited until last year. You’ve got at least another year to wait.”

“That’s not fair,” I said, crossing my arms. “What is it, anyway? A swingers’ thing? I mean, I wouldn’t care if it was—”

“Nick!” she snapped, her face turning red.

“What? I’ve seen guys come over when Dad’s not home, and Mom’s, you know, extroverted. Flirty.”

She threw a pillow at me, hitting me square in the chest. “Stop talking about Mom like that!”

“Alright, fine. Sorry.” I smirked. “But you’re not saying no, so…”

Harley groaned and threw her hands in the air. “What happens at the party, stays at the party. I’m not playing this game with you anymore.”

“So, it is a swingers’ party,” I said, grinning.

She grabbed another pillow and hurled it at me. “Nick! Go ask Mom if you’re so curious. But good luck with that.”

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care."

The smell of pine and cinnamon filled the house. Mom was humming softly to herself near the fireplace, hanging stockings and fiddling with some garland. “Ba-rum-bum-bum, newborn ba-rum-bum-bum,” she sang under her breath, her Georgia Peach accent sweetening every word. This was her favorite time of year—she practically glowed with excitement.

I didn’t sneak up on her, but when I walked in and said, “Hey, Mom,” she startled anyway.

“Oh, Nick, don’t do that!” she said, clutching her chest. She turned to face me with a laugh, a strand of tinsel dangling from her fingers. “You scared me half to death. What do you need, sugar?”

I pointed at the extra stockings she was hanging, two marked with a fancy embroidered “D” and “E.” “Who are those for?”

Mom’s eyes flicked toward the stockings, then back to me, and her smile grew just a little mischievous. “Never you mind. It’s a surprise.” She turned back to the fireplace, adjusting the stocking holders with care.

“What kind of surprise?” I pressed.

“The kind that doesn’t concern nosy little boys,” she said playfully, flicking a bit of garland in my direction.

I decided to shift tactics. “Can I go to the party tonight?”

That made her freeze for a moment. She didn’t turn around, but I saw her shoulders tense.

“Mom,” I said, stepping closer, “I’m eighteen now. I can handle it.”

She finally turned and looked at me intently with her baby blue eyes, “Oh, honey, it’s really not for you.”

“But Harley got to go when she was eighteen,” I argued. “That was just last year!”

“And she was in college,” Mom said, brushing a stray hair out of my face. “You’re still my baby boy. Maybe in a few years.”

“A few years?” I groaned. “But I’m an adult now! What could possibly be so bad about this party?”

“It’s an adults-only party,” she said simply, turning back to the stockings. “And that’s all there is to it.”

“Is it a swingers’ thing?” I asked bluntly. I had struck out with Harley about it. I thought I’d just come out and ask my mother for a straight answer to what I had suspected anyway.

Her hands froze on the garland. She didn’t turn around, but I saw her take a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “Nick…”

“What? I know about the upside-down pineapple stuff.”

This time she spun around so fast her blonde curls bounced. “Enough!” she said, her Southern charm momentarily replaced by the kind of tone she used when I forgot to take the trash out.

“I’m just saying,” I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”

She closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and muttered something to herself before opening her eyes again. “Okay, fine. Yes, your father and I are swingers. But that’s not a conversation I’m prepared to have with you right now. And this party has nothing to do with you. Understand?”

Her voice was firm, but not unkind. I nodded, even though I didn’t fully believe her.

“Now,” she said, her smile returning as she smoothed out the garland, “go pack a bag. Your brother’s already spending the night at a friend’s house, and I’ve spoken to Hunter Johnson’s mom. You can stay there tonight.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off. “I’m not debating this, Nick. Be back by nine in the morning, and we’ll have a wonderful Christmas breakfast, alright?”

I stood there for a second, not sure what to say. She leaned in and kissed my forehead, then turned back to her decorating, humming again like nothing had happened.

“Is it really a swingers’ party?” I tried one last time to get a straight answer.

Her humming stopped. She turned her head just enough to give me a sharp look. “Go,” she said, Mom’s sweet southern accent dripping with the finality of the decision. I was relegated once again to the role of a kid too wet behind the ears to join in any adult fun!

I didn’t want to throw a tantrum or pout, but I did on the way out the door – I couldn’t help myself.

"The children were nestled all snug in their beds"

It had snowed earlier that day, leaving the streets crisp and glittering under the streetlights. Perfect weather for Christmas Eve, right? Wrong. The scene might’ve been festive, but I was riding my old banana-seat bicycle to the Johnsons’ house like a second grader.

“This is undignified,” I muttered as I adjusted the scarf Mom made me wear. “I may as well have streamers on the handlebars and baseball cards in the spokes. My parents think I’m immature? This is what they’re making me do!”

The wind cut at my cheeks as I pedaled, the squeaky chain rattling with every push. I imagined Harley laughing it up at the party right now, probably sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine while Mom teased Dad about his sweater. And me? I was on a banana-seat bike with a neon-green frame that screamed “childhood embarrassment.”

When I got to the Johnsons’ house, Hunter was already sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, setting up some ridiculous video game. It was the kind of game where you moved cartoonish characters around a virtual living room, picking up objects to “decorate” while your parents had real fun somewhere else.

“You’re just in time!” he said, handing me a controller.

I stared at it like he’d just handed me a kazoo. “What is this?”

“Winter Wonderland Party!” Hunter said, like it was the coolest thing ever. “We have to collect as many ornaments as possible before time runs out!”

“Great,” I said flatly, sitting down as Mrs. Johnson walked in with a tray of snacks.

“Do you boys want Chickey-Chicky Nuggies?” she asked sweetly. “Or I’ve got Lunchables!”

Hunter’s face lit up. “Nuggies!” he said, looking at me like I was an idiot for even hesitating.

“I’m good, thanks,” I said, pushing the controller aside.

Hunter gave me a confused look but went back to enthusiastically decorating his fake living room. I sat there watching him, stewing in my frustration. This was ridiculous. Harley was probably at the party sipping eggnog and cracking jokes, and I was stuck here playing kiddie games with nuggets on the menu.

That’s when I realized I had to get out of there.

“I forgot something at home,” I said abruptly, standing up and grabbing my jacket.

Mrs. Johnson turned from the kitchen; her hands dusted with flour. “Oh, do you need me to call your mom, hon?”

“No, no, I’m good! I’ll be right back!” I called over my shoulder before anyone could stop me.

The cold air hit me like a slap when I stepped outside, but I didn’t care. My bike was still in the driveway, coated in a light frost. I swung a leg over and pedaled hard, my mind racing.

“I shouldn’t have asked permission,” I muttered. “I should’ve just gone down there and demanded to be let in.”

A burst of wind made my scarf flap as I coasted down a hill. The houses were glowing with Christmas lights, but all I could think about was what I was missing.

“Okay,” I admitted to myself, “maybe demanding to be let in wouldn’t go too far.” I pictured Dad crossing his arms and Mom with that sharp look she gave when she meant business.

I adjusted my plan. I didn’t need to storm in. I just needed to peek. Just enough to know what was really going on.

“It might just be them drinking wine and watching Die Hard,” I reasoned. “But even if it’s not, there’s no way Mom and Dad would let me force my way in.”

As I rode toward the house, my breath puffing in little clouds, I clenched the handlebars. “I’ll just take a look,” I told myself. “No harm in peeking, right?”




"Away to the window I flew like a flash."

The house was alive when I got there, glowing with warm light that spilled out onto the snow. From where I stood in the yard, I could hear faint music and laughter muffled through the thick double-paned windows. It didn’t sound like Die Hard to me.

I dropped my bike in the yard without bothering to lock it up. My fingers were already cold from the ride, and I didn’t have time to fumble with the chain. The backyard gate creaked as I opened it, and I winced. If Mom or Dad caught me, I’d be dead, but I wasn’t about to walk through the front door and announce myself.

The kitchen window was my first target. I crouched low in the snow, creeping up like I was on some kind of covert mission. My heart thudded in my chest as I peeked over the ledge.

Inside the kitchen, sitting on the table with her bare bottom in a glass punch bowl of eggnog, laughing and handing out mugs of something steaming -was my mom.

Nope, the body language, it was unmistakably my Aunt Daisy – I hadn’t seen her in years. My mother’s identical twin!

I couldn’t believe it! Blonde hair, curvy figure, that same smile that lit up a room—but her energy was completely different. Where Mom had an air of polished Southern refinement, Daisy was loud, lively, and unapologetically bold.



She was bound in red and green rope, Christmas bells, and playful ornaments attached to her naked body, but only for decoration. She could move her arms and even kicked her feet freely and playfully while singing a song I couldn’t hear.

Her shoulders were bare, her cleavage on full display, and she was perched jauntily on the table, sitting IN a pot of eggnog like a cinnamon stick; my Aunt WAS the garnish to the punch bowl. She stirred and ladled the creamy white substance when partygoers came up to her, holding an empty mug like she was a human eggnog dispenser.

The rest of the kitchen was just as lively. I immediately recognized a couple of them from my mother’s charity. They call themselves the DSL, all of them—attractive, vivacious, tits fully on display, wearing only Christmas decorations -tits out, pussies bald, big bare asses in red heels and decorated in Christmas ornaments.

One of them was building a gingerbread house, humming along to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” as she worked. None of them seemed the least bit shy.

I had met my mother’s friends before, but only in passing. They were always a little cheeky and fun, but these women were extremely flirtatious extroverts!

I could hear the beat through the windows. All of these women were tall, big boobs, vivacious, and pretty much nude with only Christmas decorations. There was no way I could stop watching at his point.

I couldn’t hear much, but My Aunt’s laugh carried through the glass as she poured eggnog into tiny mugs.

“Alright, y’all, let’s not skimp on the Southern Comfort!” I could hear her through the glass, just vaguely. She held up a bottle and poured a generous splash into each mug.

Now that my mind was sufficiently blown in the kitchen, I shifted to get a better view of the living room. Through the archway, I could see the party in full swing. There had to be around a dozen people in there. I couldn’t make out who they were -but a few men were in Christmas sweaters.

It looked like men were fully dressed, while all of the women were basically naked, and the only thing they wore were Christmas-themed ornaments with red heels.

It was hard to believe that this Christmas spectacle was playing out in my own living room – a place where me and my little brother played video games. Now, it was full of revelry and naked women! It was like an alternate dimension where everything was filled with bare asses and tits.

A naked brunette with huge knockers stood near the fireplace, holding a mug of eggnog, her hair perfectly styled. Her tits weren’t fake like several of the other women at the party. They were the droopy, natural kind -which made them seem even sexier. Her face reminded me of the actress Morena Baccarin – I had seen her somewhere before, but from this distance, I couldn’t be sure.

She looked like she belonged on the cover of some holiday pinup calendar; this was like no party I’d ever seen. This was definitely an “adult” party, and I would never have imagined my mother would attend, much less host it at our house.

I leaned closer, my breath fogging the window as I scanned the room for Harley. There was no sign of her yet, but after studying the Holiday revelers from a distance, I recognized some of the guests: Dad’s work buddies, a few more from the DSL ladies, and it was possible that the brunette with the big naturals was our neighbor Mrs. Sanderson – but she was so mild-mannered and shy. I could hardly believe that might be her. Every one of the ladies was naked, with only ornaments and bells. It was hard to get a good look from so far away. I didn’t want to take a chance on getting caught – and I only remained because my curiosity got the best of me.

I didn’t plan to stay – this was definitely NOT a place I felt I would be welcome.

My stomach flipped. This wasn’t just some casual wine-and-DVD gathering. This was something else entirely.

And then I heard it—a low whistle behind me, sharp and teasing. My stomach dropped.

“Having fun, Nick?”

I froze, a chill crawling down my spine. Slowly, I turned around.

Uncle Eddie was standing there, arms crossed and grinning like the cat that ate the canary. He must’ve been there for a while, watching me. His breath puffed out in the cold as he stepped closer, his boots crunching in the snow.

“Uncle Eddie,” I stammered. “What are you doing here?”

“I think the real question is, what are you doing here?” he said, his grin widening. “You weren’t invited, were you?”

I tried to play it cool, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I was just... curious.”

“Well,” Eddie said, clapping a hand on my shoulder, “let’s go satisfy that curiosity of yours. Come on, son.”

Before I could protest, he steered me toward the back door, pushing it open and guiding me inside. The warmth of the kitchen hit me like a wall, along with the smell of cinnamon and spiced eggnog.

My Aunt was chattering away in her sweet and sassy manner, “Who wants extra cream in their eggnog? Just pull my left titty and give it a nice twist,” she said playfully while wiggling her ass in the eggnog like a duck.

Inside, Aunt Daisy turned to greet us, her face lighting up.

“Is that Brian? Nick? My, how you’ve grown!” she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her bare breasts. Her voice was almost identical to Mom’s but with an extra twang of unrestrained joy.

“Yes, it’s me,” I said, suddenly very aware of her lack of a blouse.

“Well, come on over here, sugar!” she said, pulling me into a big hug. “The last time I saw you, you were just a little thing!”

She pulled back and looked me over, her hands still on my shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with genuine delight, but I couldn’t help noticing that she didn’t seem to care I was staring directly at her cleavage.

“Want some eggnog? I’ll slip you the good stuff,” Aunt Daisy said, laughing as she reached for the ladle. “I’m on punch duty tonight, but your mom and the Dick Sucking Ladies, your sister, and one of your neighbors are in the living room entertaining.”

I thought I heard my Aunt wrong when she said Dick Sucking Ladies – Daisy had slipped it into the conversation so casually, as if she was talking about the Salvation Army, that I almost didn’t notice what she had said.

I assumed my Aunt meant the DSL charity my mom works with, but that was a pretty raunchy way to refer to them. My Aunt Daisy has a much deeper Southern accent, and I was hoping she was being cheeky. I wasn’t sure what to believe. My Aunt was topless and presumably fully bottomless, sitting in a bowl of eggnog – and offered to let me have a drink of her “cream.”

I blinked. “Wait, the what? DSL stands for Delightful Southern Ladies. It’s Mom’s charity. They do outreach in the Black community.”

Daisy froze for a split second, then threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, is that what she told you? Well, shut my mouth and call me a peach in a pickle jar! I guess I let the cat out of the bag on that one.”

What did the name of the charity mean? I’ve heard my Mom, and her friends frequently shout “DSL” when they meet at our house for book club and a little wine. It had to mean something!

She leaned in with a conspiratorial grin and stroked my arm. “I’m sure those ladies do outreach, sugar, but not the kind you mean. Maybe you should go and talk to your mama about it. Listen, one more thing, Sugar…”

I leaned in close because my Aunt summoned me closer with a finger covered in creamy eggnog.

“I am flattered when you look at me like you have been, but don’t ogle the DSL. They love attention, and none of them are going to mind one lick if you check them out, but try not to let your tongue wag, Nick.”

I was mortified. I had been drinking in my Aunt’s magnificent boobs. I couldn’t look her in the face because she looked exactly like my mother! She also had incredible tits, and I instinctively stared at them.

My Aunt wiped some Eggnog on my lips teasingly and wished me luck with my mother. I think she knew I was in hot water, but it wasn’t her place to scold me.

I realized, as I smacked my lips, that my Aunt’s ass and pussy had been soaking in that eggnog when she fed it to me. It didn’t taste any different than normal eggnog though.

Eddie wasn’t going to wait for me to go on my own; his calloused hand was firmly grasped around the scruff of my neck, ready to lead me to my mother.

"When, what to my wondering eyes should appear"

From the moment I stepped into the kitchen, it felt like I’d walked into a completely different world. The warmth hit me first, a wave of spiced eggnog and cinnamon.
“Why was Aunt Daisy sitting in the punch bowl, Uncle Eddie?” I asked as he led me toward the living room with a grip that felt more like a sentence than guidance. I felt like a prisoner being marched to the gallows.

“You might want to hold onto those questions,” Eddie replied, his voice rough and uncharacteristically serious. “I don’t think you’ll be here long enough for answers, and you’ll probably need to do more explaining than asking.”

Eddie was usually the life of the party, loud and full of jokes, but now he was all business. His tone wasn’t angry, but it carried the weight of inevitability, like he knew there was no escaping what was coming next.

I didn’t resist. Even if I’d wanted to, there was nowhere to go, no escape from the predicament I’d stumbled into. All I could do was brace myself and face whatever was waiting for me in that room.

From inside the living room, I heard the sound of Christmas cheer—a mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and music. The party was in full swing, and I was about to crash it in the worst way.

The stereo played a Christmas song I’d never heard before, but it immediately caught my attention. The bassline from Back Door Santa thumped against the walls, bold and funky, with a groove that seemed alive. Clarence Carter’s voice flowed over it, smooth and mischievous:

“They call me Back Door Santa; I make my runs about the break of day.”

If I was going to face the music, I suppose this would be as good as any other way to do it, too. I didn’t feel like I had much choice anyway. As Uncle Eddie led me past the others, no one seemed to care that I was intruding on their fun.

The nude women didn’t cover up. I hadn't yet seen Harley and my mother in the living room. About half of the women were gathered near the Christmas tree. I suspected the others might be hiding on the couch, but I had just walked into the living room, and I was standing behind the couch.

Our living room is built almost like a Viking Long Hall, with cathedral-style elevated ceilings. My mother loved Christmas, and she placed holiday decorations and smaller Christmas trees around the house to give it a festive cozy feel. All I knew for sure was that Eddie was practically frog-marching me to my parents. I let him lead me across the room toward our main Christmas tree.

Eddie’s hand was firm on the back of my neck, steering me like a shepherd guiding a wayward lamb. Any chance I had to turn tail and run was already gone. “Brace yourself, because your Mom’s probably gonna rip you a new asshole so wide that Santa is going to mistake it for a Chimney and put a present in your butt. A few of these ladies might even get jealous!”

I had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t sound good, and that was enough to terrify me. I hadn’t seen my Uncle Eddie in years, but usually, he was ready with a wise crack and a big smile. He wasn’t laughing now.

It only took about 20-30 steps from the kitchen to the living room, but they seemed to last one minute each. In each of those steps, I experienced the agony of a thousand regrets coupled with a deep desire for a time machine to go back and slap myself for thinking about coming here on Christmas Eve.

My stomach churned as Eddie’s words settled over me like a dark cloud. My palms were clammy, and no matter how tightly I clenched my fists, I couldn’t stop them from trembling. My teeth started to chatter, not from the frost and snow outside, but from the guilt and regret welling up inside me. I had made a rash choice, and now I was proving my mother right—that I was too immature to be in a place like this. The butterflies in my stomach felt more like bats, crashing around and making it impossible to catch my breath.

My legs felt like they were made of Jell-O, wobbling beneath me as Eddie led me toward the living room. Every step felt heavier, like I was dragging a ball and chain behind me. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses from the party stung my ears—this was supposed to be a fun night, and here I was, about to ruin it for everyone.

What if they all stopped laughing when they saw me? What if they stared, their smiles fading, and silently judged me for being here? Worse, what if Mom or Dad never forgave me for this? I wasn’t supposed to be here. I wasn’t sure I’d ever belong here, and now it felt like I’d overstepped in a way I could never undo.

My throat was dry, and I tried to swallow the lump forming there, but it wouldn’t budge. My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear the music anymore. What if this was the last straw? What if I never got invited to anything like this again? It wasn’t like I understood what this party was fully, but the thought of being exiled, of disappointing everyone—especially my family—made me feel like I was shrinking with every step.

I wanted to turn and bolt, but my feet wouldn’t move backward. I was stuck in this slow march to my own social execution, completely powerless to do anything but follow Eddie’s lead and brace for whatever judgment was coming.

“Nick,” Eddie lightened up a little and said not to shit myself. His voice low and teasing, “You’ve arrived on the on day your Mom may not be in a position to kick your ass as hard as you think you deserve. Welcome to the party. You wanted to see what goes on? Well, here it is.”

I didn’t understand why my Uncle had me feel such foreboding, until I realized that was Uncle Eddie’s sense of humor. “I am fucking with you, Son. I don’t give a shit that you are here. You are old enough to handle it – Act like it and don’t be a pussy or I’ll get out my Rudolph nose and you can be our 9th reindeer.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I could tell that it didn’t sound like I wanted to be a reindeer, any more than I wanted to be in mom’s crosshairs.

The living room was alive, glowing with the warm light of the fireplace and the glitter of the Christmas tree. It wasn’t crowded—six men and seven women, laughing and talking as if they’d known each other forever. Cozy, but with an energy that made it clear this wasn’t your average holiday gathering. Nobody seemed embarrassed or uncomfortable that all the men were dressed in Christmas sweaters and slacks, and all the women were practically naked.

The fire crackled softly, throwing flickering light onto a tall tree decked out in ornaments and twinkling lights. Four of the DSL ladies were lined up in front of it, standing shoulder-to-shoulder like contestants in some kind of nude pageant. Their smiles were wide, and they giggled as one of the men, a neighbor I vaguely recognized, leaned forward and said something I couldn’t hear.

One of the naked women adjusted her Santa hat with a playful smirk as the others whispered to each other and laughed. It looked like someone was adjusting the rope bindings around her boobs.

Clarence Carter’s voice crooned on:

"I ain't like old Saint Nick, he don't come but once a year."

My eyes drifted to the rest of the room. Dad was on the couch laughing with a couple of men nearby, a drink in his hand and a big grin on his face. Harley sat on the floor by the tree, cross-legged next to a guy I didn’t recognize. He looked tall, nervous, and a little out of place, but Harley seemed perfectly comfortable. Her hand rested lightly on his knee as she watched the scene in front of her with a small, amused smile. She didn’t notice me quite yet – but she was naked too!

Mom wasn’t in sight yet, but the couch was packed. Two women knelt on plush cushions or blankets that were near the couch, chatting with one of the men. Another woman leaned against the armrest, twirling a strand of tinsel around her fingers.

I couldn’t help staring. The room was so different from what I’d imagined—not wild, not exactly, but charged with something playful, a little flirty like everyone here was in on some unspoken joke.

“Come on, son,” Eddie said, his hand still guiding me forward. “Let’s say hi to your folks.”

I stumbled slightly as he nudged me further down the open hall toward the great Christmas tree and fireplace where most of the partygoers were, all at once, the conversation shifted. Heads turned, and for a moment, it felt like every pair of eyes was on me.

"And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name"

As Eddie guided me further into the room, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to throw up, bolt for the door, or pretend this wasn’t happening. His hand stayed firm on the back of my neck, leaving no room for debate. My pulse hammered in my ears, and the warmth of the room felt suffocating now like I’d stepped into an oven.

The fire crackled softly, its light dancing on the walls. The funky bassline of “Back Door Santa” pulsed through the speakers, smooth and playful. Clarence Carter’s voice filled the room, unapologetically cheeky:

"They call me Back Door Santa; I make my runs about the break of day."

Mom turned from the couch, kneeling gracefully by my father’s feet. Silver bells and mistletoe adorned her wrists, giving the impression of being bound, though she was completely free to move as she pleased. My mother was definitely NOT happy to see me. I didn’t think she would be. Her face froze, the warm smile she’d been wearing replaced by something sharp and unforgiving.

I knew I was in hot water – and deservedly so.



“Nick,” she said, her voice low and deliberate, every syllable soaked in her Southern drawl. “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh…” I stammered, looking around for an ally, but all I saw were amused smiles and raised eyebrows.

Mom’s tone dropped another octave. “I thought I told you this party wasn’t for you.”

Eddie chuckled beside me, his grip tightening slightly as he spoke. “Caught him peeking through the window,” he said, his voice casual. “Figured I’d bring him in before he froze out there. You’re welcome.”

Some of the almost naked ladies giggled. Unlike Mom, they didn’t seem upset about my appearance. In fact, most of them looked downright amused. The four of them seemed to be waiting to start a game. Their hands casually rested on their hips, completely unbothered by my presence.

Harley had recently been laughing and joking. She looked up and frowned at me -like I had just shit in her bed, and she had to clean it up. She was exposed and bound like everyone else. Her boyfriend, looking a little dazed, glanced at me and then whispered something to Harley – presumably about me.

I was mortified. I had really chosen poorly by coming to the party after they both told me that I was not prepared for it. I thought they were being unfair, but now I realized that this was truly an “adult” party, and I felt ashamed of myself.

Harley frowned at me angrily and whispered something back. The young man, presumably her boyfriend, regarded me warily. I didn’t belong here. That much was obvious.

“You are naked,” I observed. It was a dumb thing to say because so was every other woman in the room.

“You noticed,” Mom intoned sarcastically. “You are not supposed to be here. This is adult time, and you clearly can’t handle naked bodies. All traces of revelry had disappeared from my mother’s face – she was downright pissed. She crossed her arms, covering her massive nipples.

I couldn’t look my mom straight in the eye. The best I could do was stare at those amazing tits and pretend she was my Aunt Daisy. The thing is, my mom wasn’t ACTING like the smarmy southern bell. She was my mom and ready to read me the riot act.

“You need to leave. Now.” Her tone was sharp, brooking no argument as she pointed toward the door. “This isn’t for you.”

Dad raised a hand, cutting through the tension. “Comet, hold on.” His voice was calm but firm. “He’s already here. He’s seen enough to start drawing conclusions, and we both know sending him away now is only going to make things worse.”

I had no idea why my dad was calling my mom “Comet.”

Mom shot him a look; her lips pressed into a tight line. “Steven, this isn’t—”

“I’ll handle it,” Dad interrupted, his tone leaving no room for debate. “He stays.”

Mom’s expression hardened as she exhaled sharply through her nose. “Fine. But this is on you.”

“Sit your butt down,” she said sharply, nodding toward an empty spot on the couch. “We’ll talk about this after reindeer swap. This is one of the most important parts of the night, be quiet, don’t touch anything or anyone, and we’ll talk after! ”

I shuffled over, my cheeks burning, as Eddie gave me a gentle nudge toward the cushions. Five people sat in the front row, including me, while others perched on chairs or kneeled on cushions around the room. The atmosphere was cozy, the firelight flickering softly as eggnog flowed freely.

Mom knelt next to Dad, her eyes still on me. “This party is for fun, Nick. We’re not stopping just because you’re here. You wanted to be here -well, now that you are here. Is this what you came to see? reindeer swap?”

I had no idea what reindeer swap might be, but it was obvious my mother suspected I knew about what went on at the party and came to intrude on their games -and that I came to be disruptive and annoying. I wanted to leave just as badly as she wanted me to leave.

I’ll admit I was curious, but I was clearly not welcome.

I noticed that any woman in the room besides the four that were standing were kneeling or sitting comfortably on the floor, including Harley and my Mom. I couldn’t even look in my sister’s direction. I was too ashamed. I also confirmed Mrs. Sanderson, the neighbor was the big-breasted woman I had seen earlier, and she seemed to be seated and relaxed, enjoying the festivities serenely and alone.

“The what?” I asked, trying not to sound as clueless as I felt.

Before Mom could answer, one of the men near the tree spoke up. “Hey, we’ve got seven guys total and eight reindeer!” He grinned at me encouragingly. “He could be our eighth.”

Mom shot him a look that could’ve turned him to stone. “No.”

“Or,” my Aunt Daisy’s voice carried from the kitchen, loud and sassy, “two of us could double up together with each other and a guy!”

This was a SPICY party – and I was really here. It still hadn’t fully hit me yet; just how different this was than anything I could have ever imagined.

Eddie burst out laughing. “That’s why I love your sister so much!”

“As long as it’s not with me!” Mom snapped, her cheeks flushing as she avoided looking at me.

Daisy cackled from the kitchen. “I told you she wouldn’t wanna, Eddie!”

The room erupted into laughter, and Mom rubbed her temples, clearly trying to regain control of the situation.

“Anyway,” Eddie said, clapping his hands. “Squeeze in, boy. Plenty of room on the couch.”

“It’s a little crowded,” one of the DSL ladies teased, winking at me as she perched on the armrest. “Maybe we need to put one of the men in the Naughty Corner to save some space.”

Eddie smirked. “Maybe we ought to put your naughty butt in there.”

The woman stuck out her tongue, then turned and wiggled her bubble butt playfully. “You think you can handle me, Eddie?”

Laughter filled the room again, and Mom let out a long sigh. “Fine,” she said, waving a hand. “Somebody explain the Naughty Corner to him before we get started.”

I felt like I had just shown up in the middle of a Monopoly game, and everyone frowned because they had to teach me the rules that they all knew by heart first. I can assure you that I did not expect this at all.

The same playful woman leaned toward me, her voice sweet and teasing. “If you say one of the trigger words—like ‘partridge’ or ‘pudding’—you end up in the Naughty Corner. You get a little spanking, then you have to stand in the corner until the next person says a trigger word.”

“It’s supposed to keep things fun,” another woman added with a laugh. “But mostly, it just keeps us on our toes.”

The first woman grinned wickedly. “Wait a second. Didn’t you just say one of the trigger words?”

“What? No, I didn’t—”

“Oh, yes, you did!” someone else chimed in, pointing at her.

Amid the laughter, she shrugged dramatically and sauntered toward the corner, swaying her hips like it was a fashion show. “Fine, y’all caught me,” she said with a smirk, turning to stick out her backside.

Eddie chuckled. “Rules are rules.”

The crack of a playful smack echoed in the room, followed by cheers and whistles. The woman blew a kiss over her shoulder as she moved into the corner, her back to the room. I got the impression she would play whatever reindeer swap they intended to play from the corner now.

Eddie smirked as the woman wiggled her backside toward the corner, but another voice chimed in before she could get too far.

“Hold up!” a man near the fireplace said, standing up and adjusting his sweater. “Since you haven’t been swapped yet, your husband Gary gets to do the honors.”

The room burst into laughter and cheers as Gary, a tall man with a jolly face, grabbed a holiday-themed wooden paddle from the mantel. It was painted red and green with mistletoe etched into the handle. He held it up dramatically, the mistletoe dangling just above his wife’s head as she bent over, hands on her knees.

“Now, kiss it,” Gary said with a grin as he held the paddle over the woman’s head.

She looked up, her red lips puckering theatrically as she planted a kiss on the mistletoe, earning a fresh round of applause.

Gary lowered the paddle slightly and leaned in to kiss her himself, his lips meeting hers with playful exaggeration. Then he stepped back, held the paddle steady, and gave her a series of light but deliberate spanks. The smacks echoed through the room; each one followed by exaggerated wiggles from his wife as she pretended to squawk like a duck.

“No modesty at all,” one of the other ladies joked, laughing so hard she had to dab at her eyes.

“Can I at least have my eggnog?” the woman pouted, holding out her hand toward Gary, who promptly handed her mug over.

“Thank you, darling,” she said, her tone dripping with sass as she sauntered into the Naughty Corner. She sipped her eggnog with a flourish, and then she went back to the corner – and stood with her nose pressed firmly in it, her hips still swaying like she was putting on a show, while she kept her arms behind her head.

This was a spectacle! Surely, being punished while everyone else was having a good time was deeply humiliating? And yet, the woman in the corner reveled in it and took it like a good sport who had won a booby-prize instead of first place in a competition.

“See, that’s how you take your punishment,” Eddie said, crossing his arms and grinning.

“Only because she knows she’ll get out in a few minutes,” Gary called after her, sitting back down to more laughter.

"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!"
AKA: Introducing Red Team

As the woman settled into the Naughty Corner, her back to the room and her mug of eggnog firmly in hand, the attention shifted to the four women standing near the tree. They were tall, chesty blondes, all smiles and glittering curves, their festive outfits clinging to their voluptuous figures. Each had a holiday bow pinned just below her collarbone, making them look like presents waiting to be unwrapped.

“This year’s Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Vixen!” one of the men near the fireplace announced, gesturing with exaggerated flair. The women were more than happy to display themselves, front and back. I immediately realized three of them had their hands bound behind their backs, and none of them seemed to mind at all. They weren’t trying to free themselves or struggling – they were dancing like strippers might trying to encourage men to tip them money.

https://res.wlpc.com/i/22659[img][/img]

A thought occurred to me – were these women being paid as entertainers? Why else would they be so thrilled to be naked while the men were laughing it up and fully dressed? It was one theory, but my parents were well off – so why was Harley, my Aunt, and my sister here? And our neighbors must not have needed cash. None of this made sense – why were the women just as happy, if not more enthusiastic than the men, to be on display?

The room erupted in cheers and applause, with some playful whistles thrown in. The women posed like pageant contestants, their smiles dazzling under the glow of the tree lights. Dasher blew a kiss to the crowd while Vixen playfully twirled a strand of her golden hair. The girl who was in the naughty corner was told she could join the other girls just for the swap.

I got the impression this was an auction or modeling, but I honestly had no idea what was going on. I was too afraid to ask. All I knew was that I was suddenly seeing big, beautiful, naked bodies and I was unfortunately sitting right next to my mother. I kept my hand in my lap to hide my bulging involuntary erection that had sprouted in my pants.

Some of these women had very large, stretched-out anuses and pussies. It was like they must have worked at it or something – I’d never seen a naked woman in person, but I had certainly seen a lot of porn, and only the most deviant and experienced porn stars boasted stretched-out orifices like some of the women at this party!

It was kind of hot, though – they seemed so proud and unashamed -unabashedly showing off their bodies -competing with each other for attention while also working as a team to excite the men.

The women with the widest buttholes made no secret of their asses – I also noticed elongated nipples. I began to wonder if it was no coincidence and if some of these women had intentionally modified their bodies to achieve this look – it was a crazy thought!

I started to wonder if Eddie wasn’t kidding when he said some of these women might be jealous if I really did have a stretched-out asshole.

I have to admit – their bodies looked amazing; all of them exuded a healthy interest in sex.

Gary stood up, grinning as he stepped closer to Dasher. “Alright, folks,” he said, his voice booming with mock confidence. “I’ve got Dasher here, the fastest reindeer in the lineup. Who wants to make a trade?”

This was actually happening! The girls were enthusiastic about being swapped, smiling like they were in a beauty pageant or on a game show, and this experience couldn’t be any more flattering to them.

“I’ll trade you Dancer for Dasher,” a guy near the fireplace called out, raising his glass.

Gary gave him a look and shook his head. “Nah, I’m holding out for something better.”

The crowd laughed, and I couldn’t help but glance at Dasher. If I’d been in her shoes, I’d have been mortified. But her smile didn’t waver. She stood there like a polished real estate agent, unbothered and composed, as if she didn’t care who made an offer—or who didn’t. It was unnerving how calm and collected she seemed.

“What about Prancer?” someone else called out, gesturing toward the third blonde. “Let’s see your legs.”

Prancer pulled on her labia, touched her clit, and then pretended to shake off wetness by flicking it away with her fingers, while dancing sexily to show off her long, shapely legs wrapped in red stockings.

The guy tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Nah, not what I’m looking for,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Prancer kept smiling like it didn’t hurt her feelings at all and danced back into line without missing a beat. Her smile didn’t falter, though she shot him a playful wink before turning her attention back to the room.

“Dancer, dance a little for us,” another man said, motioning toward her.

Dancer chuckled and spun in place, giving a playful twirl while shaking her huge knockers and showing off her massive ass. She did a quick shimmy, her hips swaying in perfect rhythm to the music. These were some big girls – but despite their size, they were sexy as hell, and the playfulness and generosity they had about showing their bodies while smiling so broadly – coupled with the fact that they let the men tease them and rate their bodies to their faces was shockingly surreal. I couldn’t imagine such beautiful women letting guys get away saying “Ass is like jelly, teeth are a little fucked up, cunt stretched out, and one pussy lip is longer than the other- but other than that I’d fuck her.”

These men were no prize either – my dad was an ordinary guy. We might be well off, but we were not rich enough to pay eight women to dance naked around a room and let guys mock them wealthy. We were “can afford a decent house in a nice neighborhood” wealthy.

Other than my sister’s boyfriend, most of the men were well over thirty, and they didn’t look like wealthy dudes or particularly handsome. I wondered what they must have done to distinguish themselves and even deserve to be here with these women. I wondered the same thing about Uncle Eddie when I first met him. How did an old pervert wind up with my beautiful Aunt?

They were constantly compared to an actress from the 1980s called Morgan Fairchild. I’d never seen any of her movies, but they both had distinct symmetrical noses bright, almond-shaped blue eyes that can pierce right through you. They both had boob jobs – I’d always known my mom’s rock-hard tits were fake. It was hard not to tell when she wore a bikini top because they stuck out like two boulders. Now, I could see her engorged nipples – and wondered if my mom also engaged in intentionally stretching and modifying them to unnaturally elongate them and remain harder.

I didn’t know it at the time, but they both leaned into that look in how they wore a lot of makeup, and feathered their blonde hair like a big 1980s hair-do.



“Alright, alright,” Gary interrupted, pointing a finger at the man. “You’re not auditioning her for Broadway. You want to make a trade or what?”

The man grinned. “Tempting, but I’ll pass. Let’s see what Vixen’s got.”

Vixen stepped forward with a confident sway, resting one hand on her hip. Another man leaned back in his chair, eyeing her with a smirk.

“Vixen, come sit on my lap,” he said, patting his knee.

Vixen rolled her eyes with a laugh but did as he asked, settling onto his lap with exaggerated grace.

“C’mon, Gary,” she said, shooting him a mock frown. “You had me at Thanksgiving. You know how big my butt is.”

The room burst into laughter, and Gary raised his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t blame me! I’m just here to find the best reindeer for the job.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene. It was like watching a surreal game of musical chairs, only the chairs were men, and the music was Mariah Carey crooning “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” The bass thumped softly beneath the melody, giving the whole scene an absurdly playful energy.

“What about Dasher?” one of the guys asked, pointing back to the first woman. “Turn around and give us a twirl.”

Dasher obliged, spinning slowly and flipping her hair over one shoulder as she struck a pose.

“Not bad,” the man said thoughtfully. “But let me see what Dancer’s got again.”

Dancer stepped forward, giving another shimmy that sent her curves swaying. I swallowed hard, my face heating as I watched the easy, playful way she moved. It wasn’t over-the-top, but it was enough to make my pulse race.

Around me, everyone acted like this was perfectly normal—just another festive game among friends. My head swam with questions, my curiosity burning almost as much as the heat rising in my chest.

“Mom,” I whispered, leaning closer to her. “What does DSL actually stand for?”

I don’t know why I cared to ask that question. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I kept thinking about what my Aunt had said when she casually blurted out “The Dick Sucking Ladies” and my curiosity got the better of me.

Dad answered before Mom could speak, his tone calm and easy. “Her name’s Comet, son, at least for tonight.”

Dad’s tone remained calm but firm, cutting through the tension. “Do you want to spend time in the corner, Comet? Both of you? Be quiet until the swap is over. We’ll discuss it after. Nick, interrupt again, and staying won’t even be up for debate.”

Mom hissed softly, clearly taken aback that Dad was even entertaining the idea of letting me stay.

“It’s once a year, and if he leaves, he is going to have a whole lot of ideas about what happens here, most of them wrong. Not…another...peep…Comet.”

I couldn’t believe my Dad dared to speak to my Mom like that—as if she were a kid like me. I thought I was an adult, but I realized that I was still wet behind the ears and didn’t belong at an adult party. Harley had been right. I was legally an adult, but I wasn’t ready for something like this. It was blowing my mind.

What shocked me even more about what happened after my father made it clear he wasn’t kidding; was that Mom didn’t argue. She just turned away, ignoring me completely, and focused on the swap instead. My mom was normally outspoken, and I couldn’t imagine my father talking like that to her around the house.

I was left standing there, utterly bewildered. I had no clue what was happening, and my mind was spinning!

Great story, a few days ago you send the first part to me, which I read and forget to reply to

But now the full story! Great Christmas story. And I’m glad to see you back Eddie!

For tonight, your mom is Comet,” Dad said, his tone calm but with a hint of amusement, nodding toward the group of women. “They all have reindeer names.”

Eddie elbowed me from the other side, his grin stretching ear to ear. “Hey, we’re still looking for a Rudolph,” he teased, his voice just loud enough to draw a few chuckles nearby. “What do you think? You’d look good in a wig. Want to join the ladies?”

My face burned instantly, the heat spreading all the way to the tips of my ears as Eddie’s laughter echoed. Before I could even stammer a reply, another voice cut through the noise.

“Vixen, show us that tattoo again!” a man called out, his tone somewhere between playful and commanding.

With a dramatic spin, Vixen turned toward him and confidently hiked her leg, giving the group a full view of the DSL tattoo etched high on her upper thigh. “Like it?” she purred, her lips curling into a mischievous wink as the room erupted in a mix of cheers and whistles.

The men cheered, their voices blending into a rowdy chorus of whistles and catcalls. “What about Prancer? Let’s see if she’s still got that black spade! Show us that pretty booty! Shake it!” someone hollered, setting off a wave of laughter.

Prancer grinned wickedly, turning to give everyone a full view. Her thick hips swayed as she slapped her wide, jiggling butt, The other women joined shaking their tits, and showing off their bodies, dancing and posing, their laughter and exaggerated movements filling the room. The way they moved wasn’t polished or graceful—it was wild, brazen, and unapologetic, and the crowd ate it up.

It was hard to process. This wasn’t some private, forbidden thing—it was open, playful, almost carefree. But the way my pulse raced told me it wasn’t just the good, clean fun they made it out to be.

"On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!"

The room buzzed with energy as Team Green lined up near the tree. Uncle Eddie stepped forward like an auctioneer, his grin as wide as the fireplace. “Alright, folks! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen! Let’s meet our reindeer!”

The four girls near the tree were dismissed, one of them returning to the naughty corner. Now, it was time for the Green Team to be introduced.

Mom—Comet—stepped forward first, as she stood up, I saw the crack of my mother’s bare ass, and every other part of her naked body. I wasn’t turned on, or sexually aroused, but I also wasn’t disgusted. My mom had a killer body for a woman of her age. I was simply shocked – by her boldness and wondered how she could behave some brazenly even around friends (and family).

Dressed in green and red Christmas ropes adorned with mistletoe, silver bells, and tree ornaments, she was striking. If my mother was uncomfortable with my presence, you couldn’t tell it once she stood by the Christmas tree.

She radiated warmth and happiness, the picture of a graceful southern belle and hostess.

Aunt Daisy—Cupid—followed, her movements fluid and flirtatious. She twirled as she stepped forward, her hands trailing over her curves with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how good she looked.

Then came my sister Harley—Donder. She adjusted the bow on her shoulder, her playful grin firmly in place. “Alright, gentlemen,” she said, tossing her hair, “who’s ready for some sass with their sleigh?”

Her entrance sounded a little rehearsed.

Finally, Mrs. Stephenson—Blitzen—stood last in line, her shy smile adding sweetness to her curvaceous frame. Her brunette hair tumbled over her shoulders, and the blush on her cheeks deepened as the crowd whistled and clapped. As the only brunette in the group, she stood out.



Eddie gestured toward my Aunt Daisy with a dramatic flourish and referred to her only as Cupid. “Take my wife, please!” he called, earning laughter from the room. “Who wants her? We’ve got big whoppers, huge jugs, massive knockers, and even some decent-sized boobs, folks!”

“Uncle Eddie!” Harley groaned, rolling her eyes because she was singled out for having only “decent sized boobs.” The other women, including my Mom and Aunt, had much bigger boobs.

Daisy, on the other hand, laughed and twirled again. “C’mon, boys! Don’t let him undersell me! You can take a ride on me, and I do it alllll……with any of y’alllll…”

My Aunt’s voice reminded me of what whiskey must taste like—it was smooth, southern, and had a little bite to it.

The music kicked in, and Tone Loc’s raspy voice filled the room as "Wild Thing" blared through the speakers. The ladies took their cue, stepping forward with exaggerated flair. Aunt Daisy led the charge, swaying her hips to the beat and twirling her Christmas ropes like she was on stage at a honky-tonk. She winked at one of the men, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder as she bent low to give an exaggerated view of her assets, earning hoots and whistles from the crowd.

Mom followed suit, shaking her hips with a surprising amount of enthusiasm. She raised her hands, making the mistletoe attached to her body as she spun around, letting the ornaments on her ropes jingle with each movement. It occurred to me that the mistletoe had been carefully arranged to suggest someone might kiss her on the ass, pussy, and even tits.

I remembered that a few years ago, she and my father took a trip to the Florida Keys to attend something called Fantasy Fest by themselves. I thought it may have something to do with Heroic Fantasy and Dungeons and Dragons, and I wanted to go with them. She was as adamant then as she was about this party and that I would not be allowed to go. I got the impression she might be a swinger from looking up what Fantasy Fest was all about and her flirty behavior with adults who often spent the night at our house – now I had confirmation that my parents were swingers.

Now that I was older, I guess I don’t know why I was so worried about that. It was a choice they made, and it was obvious from how much my father cheered for my mom, that he loved and supported her.

For a brief moment, I saw my mother glance in my direction, her cheeks flushing slightly before she turned her focus back to her audience. If she was embarrassed, it didn’t show—she was committed to the act, her movements graceful and fluid like the Southern belle she was.

Even Harley, despite her grumbles earlier, couldn’t help but get into the spirit of things. She tapped her foot to the beat and swayed with playful defiance, her grin widening as Eddie pointed to her and exaggerated a dramatic bow. “And Donder brings the sass!” he called out, prompting her to wag her finger at him teasingly before spinning around and giving the crowd a little shimmy. The room was alive with laughter, music, and energy as the ladies put on their show, each one vying to outdo the others. I had never seen this side of my mother before – she could really dance. I noticed that my mom never once looked in my direction. Instead, she smiled like a star on a broad way stage and shined.

Eddie announced that the bidding would begin on the final round of the Reindeer swap. “All right, pussy, pussy, pussy! You get what you get, if you don’t bid. Come on in pussy lovers! Here at the Twat’s Christmas Titty Twister, we're slashing pussy in half! Give us an offer on our vast selection of pussy, this is a pussy blow out! All right, we got white pussy, hot pussy, cold pussy, sore pussy, we got hairy pussy, bald pussy, we got wet pussy…you got Sexxmas cards, use them to sweeten your swap deal!”

Apparently, the currency of the realm (other than their wives) was swapping a Sexxmas card won in previous years’ contests. I was still trying to figure out how it worked, but it seemed valuable enough that the guys didn’t part with them lightly.

That was the Uncle Eddie I remembered—though I’d never heard him be that graphic before. My mom and Aunt made a last-ditch effort to sell themselves with their smiles, but Harley and Mrs. Stephenson laughed so hard they could barely stand upright while Eddie announced the final bidding. The men wasted no time inspecting their options and making bids after the introductions.

“Cupid, show us that tattoo again!” one of the guys called out.

Daisy grinned and turned, showing her ass off, spreading her cheeks – so that everyone could see not only her pussy but her asshole. She also had a spade tattoo on her butt just like Prancer. “Still got it, boys!” she said, winking over her shoulder.

“What about Comet?” another man asked. “Let’s see if you’ve got one too!”

Mom hesitated for the briefest moment before turning gracefully. Her black spade tattoo matched Daisy’s and was positioned in the same place – right lower butt cheek. I would never have known it was there unless she wore a skimpy bikini.

I wondered if the Ace of Spades held any special meaning for the DSL charity – it didn’t seem like it was a coincidence they had the same symbol permanently tattooed to their meaty ass cheeks. I looked for one on Mrs. Sanderson (Blitzen) -despite having the most enormous canvas of all the women for a tattoo, I didn’t see one on her ass.


Eddie clapped his hands, motioning toward Mrs. Sanderson with a grin to highlight her. “Blitzen is a virgin to the Annual Twat parties! First-timer, guys, and look how she fits in! What else can she fit in? Find out—swap! for this eligible new cummer!”

I could tell that my neighbor didn’t really want the attention from the crowd because she shut down and giggled nervously, looking down at her feet. She didn’t like being singled out—she just wanted to blend in with the other girls in the background.

The men continued their questions, asking for twirls, dances, and even motorboating. When Cupid leaned forward and playfully motorboated Comet, the room erupted into laughter and cheers.

Harley—Donder—rolled her eyes but played along, flipping her hair dramatically as she posed for the crowd.

I leaned forward, unable to resist. “When are you going to get some tattoos, sis?”

The room quieted slightly as all eyes turned to me. I quickly corrected myself. “I mean, Donder.”

Harley’s head snapped toward me, her expression a mix of confusion and irritation. “What?” she said, as if I’d just asked her to reveal the meaning of life. “Why are you asking me this?”

I shrugged. “It’s just… the other ladies have tattoos on their bottoms, is all.”

Daisy smirked but stayed quiet, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Mom, on the other hand, shot me a warning glance that made my stomach flip. It was strange that Daisy didn’t have some wisecrack to say back. She was too busy trying to show off to the men at the party.

Harley exhaled dramatically, cupping her chest. “Okay, fine, no tattoos. But hey, my boobs are nice even if they’re not big old honkers!” She squeezed her chest for emphasis. “Merry Boobmas! Normally, I’ve got respectable boobies, but standing next to all this, I feel like I’m roasting chestnuts with my itty-bitty titties.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Harley grinned, proud of herself. “Can we get back to the game now, please?”

Eddie clapped his hands, the crowd quickly refocusing. “Alright, folks! Last call for swaps! Remember the rules: you gotta bring a girl to get a girl. No exceptions! No reasonable offer refused, and many unreasonable offers will be considered! Buyer beware, Buyer remorse, for sale, bi-sexual owner! Absolutely No trade backs, take backs, clap backs, ass backs, tit backs, back to backs, back in blacks, fade to blacks, hashtags, cutting in line, horseplay, monkey play, or free play. All sales final! You break it, you bought it! And remember, removing a tag from our reindeer is a penalty under law. Thank you for flying united!”

The room erupted in laughter, and even I couldn’t hold back a chuckle. My uncle’s rapid-fire nonsense left everyone rolling, and I envied his ability to command a room so effortlessly. The energy crackled as the men leaned in, readying their bids, and the women shifted subtly under their attention.

“That’s the breaks, sugar,” Daisy said, leaning back in Dad’s lap with a teasing grin. “You don’t get to play unless you’ve got skin in the game.”

Eddie seized the moment, gesturing dramatically to the lineup. “On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!” He turned to the men, his grin wide and wicked. “Let’s break it down, boys. You wanna take home Comet? That’s Southern comfort in all the right places. Sweet tea, hot nights, and a mouth that knows how to say ‘yessir’ just right.”

The men whistled and cheered as Mom tilted her head coyly, her mistletoe hat slightly askew, but her smile never faltered. Her presence was polished and reserved, but the way she crossed her legs and shifted in her seat told me she knew how to hold the room’s attention.

Eddie pointed to Daisy next. “Cupid? Oh, she’ll shoot her arrow straight into your heart—and maybe a little lower. If you’ve got a weak ticker, boys, she might just finish the job. But trust me, she’ll have you thanking her for it.”

Daisy laughed loudly, throwing her head back and resting one arm on Dad’s shoulder like she owned the place. “Don’t let Eddie scare you off, boys. I know how to treat a man right.”

The crowd loved it, but Eddie wasn’t done. He turned to Harley with a playful smirk. “And Donder? She’s the sassiest thing on four legs. You like a ride with attitude? She’ll make sure you know who’s in charge while keeping your face full of—well, let’s call it Christmas cheer.”

Harley rolled her eyes but grinned, tossing her hair and turning slightly to show off her backside. “Careful, Eddie. I’m starting to think you like me better than Aunt Daisy.”

“And last but not least,” Eddie continued, waving his hand toward Mrs. Stephenson, “Blitzen. A first-timer, fellas! Virgin to the Annual Twat Parties—and she’s fitting in like she’s been here all along. What else can she fit in? Only one way to find out, so don’t miss your shot at this eligible new cummer!”

The crowd whooped and hollered, but Mrs. Stephenson blushed deeply, giggling nervously as she clasped her hands in front of her. She shuffled slightly, clearly uneasy about being singled out, but she managed a shy smile. She wasn’t getting many offers, but she seemed very optimistic and upbeat.

“Alright, boys, the reindeer are ready!” Eddie declared. “Bids in, cards on the table, and let’s see who takes home some holiday cheer and holiday ass!”

Eddie clapped his hands again, raising his voice to command the room. “Alright! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!” He gestured toward the lineup of reindeer, setting the stage for the final swaps.

Bidding was fast and furious, with most of the activity focused on my sister, then my mom and aunt. Unfortunately, not many seemed interested in Blitzen at all. I’ve always rooted for the underdog, and for a moment, I wished I could have bid on her. That sounded absurd—she was about my mother’s age—but still, that’s what I thought.

Mom—Comet—sat beside Eddie, her mistletoe hat slightly askew, her smile warm but reserved as she surveyed the crowd. Next to her, Daisy—Cupid—leaned confidently back into Dad’s lap, her laughter cutting through the air like she owned the place. Both seemed perfectly at ease in their roles, each woman playing her part to perfection.

Harley—Donder—had already found her new rider: an older man named Marty in a festive red sweater who looked equal parts delighted and overwhelmed. She glanced back at Evan, her former partner, with a small, apologetic smile before turning her attention to her new companion.

“Squat or kneel?” she asked sweetly, her tone as casual as if she were offering him a choice between Pepsi or Sprite.

Marty laughed, clearly charmed by her sass. “Dealer’s choice, Donder.”

I couldn’t help but wonder why it was even up to Marty in the first place. Shouldn’t my sister decide how she wanted to sit? I was confused by the whole dynamic, but Harley didn’t seem to mind.

With a widening grin, Harley dropped into a graceful squat, resting her hands lightly on her knees. “How’s this? Comfortable?”

She cozied up next to him, like they were longtime lovers.

“Perfect,” Marty chuckled, adjusting his posture to match her playful energy.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Stephenson—Blitzen—stood near the tree, her hands clasped in front of her and her smile soft but hesitant. I could relate to the expression on her crestfallen face—even through her fake smile. She hadn’t been chosen by anyone. There were seven bidders and eight women. I was the eighth guy, but I wasn’t allowed to bid.

“Well,” Eddie said, scanning the room with a mischievous grin, “looks like Blitzen’s still up for grabs. Grab a booby, two boobies, and maybe some of that beautiful booty while you’re at it!”

The room tittered nervously at his joke, but no one stepped forward. Every “rider” now had a different woman with him than when they arrived, and this swap was supposed to leave no one out. I wasn’t sure how it was supposed to work, though—especially since Mrs. Stephenson’s husband wasn’t even here.

For a moment, the lively energy in the room dimmed as everyone avoided eye contact. The faintest flicker of unease crossed her face. She didn’t look angry or upset—just resigned, like someone who had been picked last for teams too many times before. She clasped her hands tighter in front of her and took a small step back.

“It’s alright,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady. “I’ll just sit this one out.” She turned and started to lower herself to the floor, tucking her legs to the side as she settled near the edge of the tree skirt.

“That’s not happening,” Daisy said firmly, breaking the silence. Her grin softened slightly, but her tone was insistent. “I don’t want a newbie sitting off by herself like a wallflower. She can kneel by his feet—it’s not like they’re getting engaged, blue eyes.”

“It’s Comet,” Dad intoned, his deep voice breaking through the moment. “We haven’t even decided if Nick is staying yet. But I say for now, Blitzen would be welcome over here by the couch. It’s a party, after all.”

All eyes turned to me as my stomach twisted into knots. “Uh…”

Mrs. Stephenson blushed deeply, shaking her head quickly as she stood. “Oh, no, really, that’s not—”

“Go on, sugar,” Daisy coaxed, her tone softening as she met Mrs. Stephenson’s hesitant gaze. “You’d be doing me a favor.”

I hesitated for a moment, feeling every pair of eyes in the room boring into me. Finally, I gave a small nod, my voice barely above a whisper. “Uh, sure. If you don’t mind?”

Mrs. Stephenson’s blush deepened, but she managed a shy smile as she stepped toward me. She knelt at first at a respectful distance, her posture straight and her hands resting neatly in her lap. After a few moments, she shifted slightly, glancing at me for permission before inching closer. Finally, she let her weight rest lightly against my foot, her movements slow and cautious.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of conversation picking up again.

“No problem,” I replied softly, though I felt anything but calm. Around us, the other women seemed at ease in their places, laughing or leaning into their riders like long-time companions. Mrs. Stephenson, on the other hand, seemed unsure of her role in all of this, her movements hesitant and deliberate as if trying not to misstep.

I had never seen a nude woman in person before, and now I was surrounded on all sides by women who weren’t even trying to cover up. It was surreal. I couldn’t help but wonder how they felt—being basically naked in a room full of men dressed in Christmas sweaters and slacks. It had to feel embarrassing on some level, right?

But as I watched, I noticed something surprising. Most of the girls seemed perfectly at ease. They were smiling, laughing, and introducing themselves to the men who had bid on them. They leaned in close, touched hands, and chatted like it was all completely normal. All except for Blitzen. She stayed quiet and sullen, her eyes downcast as if she was counting the seconds until this was over.

I didn’t have the courage to say anything, but as she settled her weight onto my foot, something shifted. There was a softness in her movements, almost like she was relieved. And I felt it too—a strange sense of joy, knowing that even if she wasn’t talking, at least she wasn’t sitting off by herself. Maybe just being near someone else was enough to make her feel less alone. It felt good to think I could be that person for her, even in this weird situation.



Reindeer Swap Results:
Dancer Is Married to Marty and Swapped to Jerry
Dasher Is Married to Jerry and Swapped to Harold
Prancer Is Married to Gary and Swapped to Evan
Vixen Is Married to Harold and Swapped to Gary
Comet Is Married to Steven and Swapped to Eddie
Cupid Is Married to Eddie and Swapped to Steven
Donder Is Dating Evan and Swapped to Marty
Blitzen Is Married to Dave and Swapped to No one

My gaze swept the room, lingering on Mom. She sat poised, her back straight, her demeanor composed despite the playful chaos. But how she was so comfortable being naked and now laughing along with Eddie as if he had always been her husband, it was a little disconcerting, but the casual way she interacted with everyone—it was like I was seeing a completely different side of her. I’ve seen her complain about my Uncle for various reasons, but now she acted like she was enamored with him.

My gaze swept the room, lingering on Mom. She sat poised, her back straight, her demeanor composed despite the playful chaos. But how she was so comfortable being naked and now laughing along with Eddie as if he had always been her husband—it was a little disconcerting. The casual way she interacted with everyone made it feel like I was seeing a completely different side of her. I’d heard her complain about my Uncle for various reasons, but now she acted like she was enamored with him.

Everyone at the party acted like they were on their honeymoon. There didn’t seem to be any jealousy; everyone was getting along, which made me wonder how they managed to keep things so harmonious. My dad, for example, seemed completely at ease being paired with my mom’s sister.

Even Harley, always so sassy and independent, seemed completely at home in this world. She knelt beside her new rider, laughing and chatting as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Marty was my dad’s age, or older, and Harley acted like she couldn’t get enough of him. How did this work?

I knew of swingers, and I’d suspected my parents might be swingers for a while. The signs were there: the adult vacations, the couples, and men we’d never met who came over to the house, spending the night and leaving in the morning.

I never really thought about it until tonight. Did they feel like they were being disloyal to their wives? Did Harley not feel like she was cheating on her boyfriend? Prancer, busy flirting with her handsome new partner, was close to my mother’s age—and yet she didn’t seem to have any reservations at all.

Mom and Dad didn’t tell me I had to go, so I figured I was staying -at least for now. They seemed busy talking to one another. I didn’t know if they were still undecided or just letting me stay for the night, but I wasn’t going to rock the boat. After all, it wasn’t like they were kicking me out, and this weird night wasn’t getting any less confusing.

Daisy suddenly stood up, clapping her hands together as if she’d just remembered something. “Oh, wieners! Who wants wieners?”

The room fell silent for a moment before laughter erupted—her double entendre not lost on anyone.

“Clearly, you mean cocktail wieners in biscuits, right?” Eddie teased, raising a brow.

“Pigs in a blanket,” she confirmed with a wink.

“You told me not to call you and your sister that!” Eddie smirked.

“Eddie Marshall! You be nice!” Daisy scolded him, though the wide grin on her face suggested she wasn’t offended. As she walked toward the kitchen, she let out a playful “oink, oink” over her shoulder.

“Carry on, y’all! I know the rules!” she called, halfway out of the room. “Dancer, get your stinky butt over here and help me make these boys some snacks. Playing Christmas games is HARD work!”

“Yeah, and we want them HARD-ERR,” Dancer shot back with a laugh, tapping Gary on the shoulder to let him know she’d be right back.

Gary raised his glass in mock protest. “Don’t be gone too long, Dancer. I might start bidding for Blitzen again!”

“Dasher, I see you trying to hide down there with Jerry!” Daisy called from the kitchen; her voice sharp but playful. “Get your behind back in the naughty corner! Nose to the wall, hands at your side. You got a little break from corner time for the swap, but now it’s games time! rules are rules!”

Dasher pouted but obeyed, sticking her tongue out at Daisy as she passed. “Meanie butt!”

“Aww, don’t worry,” Daisy replied, smirking. “One of us will end up in that corner shortly, I’m sure.”

Dasher huffed dramatically but shuffled back to her place, her posture obedient but her sass intact.

I admired all the pretty boobs and butt cracks, and As the conversation shifted to the Naughty Corner, my thoughts drifted. My eyes kept falling on Dasher’s butt crack as she returned to her spot on the floor, clearly settling in for the next round. No one was sitting on the couches, and I couldn’t figure out if it was a rule or just the way things were done here. Maybe I should ask later.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how relaxed everyone seemed. No one cared about sitting on the floor, and even Dancer—my sister—was perfectly at ease next to her new rider. There was no room on the couch, but I guess that was the rule. I wondered if I was the only one who thought it was weird.

Wasn’t their pussy cold? Some had blankets, but most, including my neighbor, were sitting right on their pussy lips flat on the hard wood floor. A few were kneeling, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was worse—kneeling with your butt lifted off the ground, or sitting flat and having your pussy touching the floor?

Eddie clapped his hands and leaned forward; his grin mischievous as ever. “Alright, gentlemen. Time to spice things up. We need three new rules for the Naughty Corner, and you know the drill—each of you has to surrender a Sex-mas card to make your suggestion.”

Jerry was the first to speak, his deep laugh filling the room. “Alright, how about this: if anyone says ‘complain’ or starts whining, they’re off to the corner.” He tossed a card onto the coffee table, grinning.

Gary leaned back, stroking his chin dramatically. “Hmm... I’ll say if someone interrupts another person, they go. We’ve had too much back-and-forth tonight.” He added his card to the pile with a flourish.

Harold, always the laid-back one, smirked. “Let’s keep it classic. If anyone says the word ‘fart’ or… you know, lets one rip, it’s Naughty Corner time.” He threw his card in, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Eddie picked up the cards, shuffled them, and handed them to me. “Alright, kid. Since you’re new and didn’t get to do much earlier, you get to decide which one we use.”

I blinked, feeling the weight of the moment as everyone’s eyes turned toward me. I glanced at Mom—Comet—who had her arms folded, a mix of exasperation and amusement on her face.

“Nick, your father and Eddie said I can’t say boo to you as long as you behave yourself,” she said, her tone softer now. “If they want you to pick a naughty rule, just pick whichever one you think will probably get us in the most trouble.”

"Before I pick a rule for a game I don’t fully understand, what do you mean 'I can’t say boo to you'?" I asked.

She sighed and looked at Eddie. “I would’ve prepared you for tonight if I’d thought you were ready, Nick. I didn’t want to spend all night at the party teaching you the ins and outs.”

“Be nice, or we have another corner over there,” Eddie said brusquely to Mom.

Eddie had joked before when he pretended, he was going to punish me, but this time, he didn’t seem to be teasing Mom.

Mom, who was normally tough as nails, wouldn’t let teachers or principals tell her how things should go at the PTA, acquiesced and apologized... to me!

I’m the one who snuck into the party, and my mom smiled at me politely. “I am sorry for being rude and a little impatient, Nick. The short answer is that one night out of the year, my friends and I give a sort of Christmas present to the men in our lives, and we behave ourselves and obey them.” [mumbles]

“What’s that? I didn’t hear what you said, can you repeat it?” Eddie chuckled.

Mom blushed, then just came right out and bluntly said it. “I have to do what you guys tell me to do... within reason...” [holding up a finger to politely ask that I hold whatever question I was about to ask until the end]

I thought I heard her say “you guys,” but I wasn’t sure if that meant me – or the other men in the room, in a general sense. I felt like I was still in a lot of hot water with my mom and would have to eat crow. I couldn’t imagine it did include me, and I had somehow jumped the family hierarchy over my mom.

"Eddie won me in the swap, which means I answer to him for tonight, and he, in his infinite wisdom, has decided with your father that, as long as you don’t cause a problem, you can stay—at least for a bit. There are different rules for girls than there are for guys at this party. I was hoping you’d notice, and it would be intuitive, but girls sit, squat, or kneel, and we aren’t allowed on furniture."

“I must’ve left my hearing aid battery at home,” Eddie rubbed his ear and pretended he couldn’t hear his sister-in-law when she mumbled, just to make my mom have to say the embarrassing parts out loud. He really seemed to be enjoying making my mother squirm.

A little louder (meanwhile, other people were talking briskly, and "Bust a Move" by Young MC was playing): “Because we are naked, and we might dirty up our furniture, girls aren’t allowed on furniture, okay? And the guys have traditions, which started as a bit of a joke years ago when we started it. Girls who do irritating things at the party can be sent to the Naughty Corner.”

“Or any corner if that one’s occupied,” Eddie reminded her. I had gotten the impression that when one girl was in the naughty corner and a new one was punished that she came out – but it sounded like they were circumstances more than one could be in the corner.

Mom glanced up at him. “Sorry, sir, I’m trying not to overwhelm my son, but yes, Nick—I can be sent to the corner.”

I stifled a laugh.

“Remember, the other 364 days a year...” she warned politely, with a snicker that she’d get even any other day of the year.

“What happens at the party, stays at the party,” Eddie said.

“Yes, well... and that’s the thing, Nick. The guys like to make up rules that ensure there’s a girl in the corner all the time. During games, they allow us to get out, but we have to remain in a special position on the ground during the game... it’s kind of embarrassing and awkward, so pick whichever rule you want. They’ll add a few more as the night progresses. If you pick complaining about the rules, they’ll apply it broadly and we’ll end up in the Naughty Corner or Naughty Position. If you pick interrupting, they’ll make it so anytime we talk over a man—even when something’s important—we’ll be in the corner. And if you make it so if we say 'fart,' or actually do it, even if we don’t and it’s them, they’ll blame us... does that make sense?”

“So, it’s damned if you do, damned if you don’t?”

“Kind of, but it’s all in fun. Once one girl gets in the Naughty Corner, the sooner one of the other ones of us gets in the corner, she gets out, so we tag in and out all night. If you stay, you’re bound to see me in the corner—but it’s not malicious, and no one holds a grudge. Not really... does that explain it, sir?”


My mom called me sir like she definitely didn’t mean it – it was like mocking respect. It wasn’t rude, but it wasn’t very reassuring either.

I hesitated, feeling the pressure of having to make a choice that I still didn’t understand. My eyes scanned the room, noting how the women were kneeling or squatting rather than sitting on the furniture. Even Donder looked perfectly comfortable on the floor beside her new rider.

Eddie, sensing my hesitation, grinned. “C’mon, Nick. This is easy. Just pick one and get us going!”

“Yeah, no pressure, just an important rule the girls have to obey,” Harold laughed. I didn’t know the guy, but he seemed easygoing and was clearly kidding.

I cleared my throat, still unsure. Then I raised Harold’s card. “Alright, fine. If someone says the word ‘fart,’ they’re in the Naughty Corner.”

"I guess if I have to pick something, I'd have to go with fart," I laughed.

"Why is that?" Mom seemed puzzled.

"Farts are funny!" I admitted, a universal truth of mine, with a grin.

"Good man!" Eddie laughed, and the others who overheard joined in. "I knew there was a reason I liked you!"

Mom raised an eyebrow at me, her expression amused rather than annoyed. “Great, now we are in for fart jokes and accusations of letting them rip all night,” she complained.

I probably was never going to make a choice my mother was happy with. I got the impression she was just goofing with me anyway.

Vixen giggled, her voice lilting with mischief. “Sounds like someone’s already complaining about the rules! Good thing he didn’t pick complaining about rules as a naughty offense!”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I felt like I had to play things straight and not be as casual as everyone else, even though it was all so lighthearted.

Eddie, clearly enjoying the chaos, grinned at me. “Alright, Nick. You made your first rule. You’re coming along nicely. Your mom thinks you need months of practice to hang out with your dad and me, but I think you’re doing just fine. Have fun with it, my boy.”

Just then, Daisy reentered the room, balancing a silver tray of Pigs in a Blanket with Dancer following behind her, also holding nachos and chips on a tray. “Alright, all you Christmas twats, squat on your toes if you want a wiener. Open wide and say ‘ahhh!’ C’mon baby birds! Let’s see those tongues! Time to pop a hot wiener in your mouth!”

All the women, including Mrs. Sanderson, immediately sat up on their toes, stuck their butts out, parted their knees wide while squatting, and held their mouths open. I found it hysterical. Mrs. Sanderson AKA Blitzen faced away from me. She had a big butt, and when she parted her knees, I could also see the brownish pink of her sphincter between her parted cheeks.

I felt bad about myself and sympathy for her – like I was peeping at her most extreme naughty place, and I blushed. I felt like I shouldn’t be taking advantage of the situation and getting a view on her body in the place she probably considered the most private part on her entire body – the center of her big fat asshole.

I knew I shouldn’t be looking, but I looked anyway – I could not help myself.

It was fascinating though – the shade of skin, the wrinkles and crinkles, the tiny tight hole surrounded by a sphincter that made the hole seem much bigger than it really wasn’t. Blitzen had huge areolas as well, and they dominated her huge fat knockers.

It was hard to keep my eyes off of her, judging from how well I remember how she looked – I don’t think I managed it.

The room had been casually chattering and talking, but as soon as my aunt burst in and gave the order to assume the position, every girl snapped into it as if they’d get in real trouble if they weren’t on the balls of their feet in seconds. I had just been told the rules were for fun, and I got the impression they were meant to be broken, so the girls could end up being punished.

Yet now, in stark contrast, they were squatting on their toes, their asses raised, knees wide apart, arms above their heads with palms flat on top, mouths open wide enough for me to see their tonsils. It was clearly intentional, uncomfortable.

They were fully exposed from every angle, and I could see much more than just their tonsils—I tried not to look at Harley, but there she was, sticking her tongue out, looking straight ahead as if this was some kind of military drill. My eyes dipped lower to her shaved pussy, spread open wide and glistening with her juices – perfectly natural like an opened oyster waiting to be devoured.

How was this "fun" for the girls? Was this kinky? It made them look silly, rather than sexy. I felt like it was designed to embarrass these otherwise big, beautiful, buxom women.

Despite the absurdity of the position, none of them laughed. A few of the men did, because the girls looked so serious waiting that way. I want to say they were comfortable enough to hold the position in front of people, but I don’t know if “comfortable” is the right word, none of them complained or lollygagged like they had earlier when they were up in front of the tree being judged. They didn’t rush, but they either took their time getting ready or stepped down, playfully quipping as they went.

My aunt moved down the line, feeding each woman with dramatic flair. She grabbed a pig in a blanket with tongs and popped it into their mouths. I saw Vixen's brow furrow as she clenched it in her teeth to let it cool down.

When she reached my mom, Comet was perched on the balls of her feet, squatting low with her legs apart, head tilted back, mouth open wide like she was ready to catch a snowflake. “There’s my baby bird! Open wide, blue eyes!” Cupid cooed, holding up a wiener with a flourish.

Mom made a sound that could’ve meant “this is as wide as I go” as she stuck out her tongue in response.

“We’re identical, sis; if I can do it, so can you!” Cupid teased, demonstrating by sliding an entire wiener into her mouth with effortless ease. She gave a mischievous grin as she stuffed another warm one into Mom’s mouth. “There, that’s about Eddie’s size—should be good practice!”

Eddie chimed in without missing a beat. “Daisy told me to give her eight inches and make it hurt, so I banged her four times and punched her in the face,” he joked, his grin wide enough to match the groans and laughter that followed.

“It’s Cupid, stupid!” my aunt corrected, her tone dripping with mock irritation as she fed Eddie a wiener in an overly loving gesture. “And for the record, I’d love to see you manage four times in a row.”

Eddie leaned back with a belly laugh. “A row? Nah, I meant four times in one month!” His self-deprecating tone had the room in stitches, the easy humor keeping the mood light and fun.

Cupid moved down the line with theatrical flair, feeding each woman and the man with her, while keeping the energy in the room electric. Dancer followed close behind, balancing a tray of nachos and cheese, offering them up with an inviting grin to anyone who wanted a snack. Her big boobs hung freely as if she had absolutely no concern about showing them to anyone. It was awesome!

When Cupid reached me, she stopped and tilted her head, the corners of her mouth curling into a mischievous grin. “Well, well, look who’s just sitting there with nothing in his hands. Want a pig in a blanket, sugar?” she teased, holding one up dramatically with her tongs.

Before I could respond, she leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially as she waggled the hot wiener in front of me. “Open wide, Nick. It’s a big one, but I think you can handle it.”

The entire room chuckled, and I felt my face flush as I hesitated, unsure of how to respond to her tone.

“Oh, don’t be shy!” she urged, tapping the end of the wiener lightly against my lips with a playful wink. “This little piggy wants to go wee-wee-wee all the way home.”

Despite myself, I laughed and shook my head before opening my mouth. Cupid slid the bite in with exaggerated precision, clapping her hands like she’d just won a contest. “There we go! My nephew’s a natural at sucking down wieners.”

The innuendo was clear, and while I could take the joke in stride, it felt a bit too familiar. She’d done the same for the women earlier, and I assumed this playful teasing was just part of her charm.

But when my Aunt handed food to the other men in the room, the treatment was noticeably different. She didn’t tease them or make a show of it. Instead, she simply placed two pigs in blankets neatly on a plate with a dab of mustard, handing it to them alongside a small napkin.

I couldn’t help but notice Mrs. Sanderson, my neighbor, giggling softly nearby. She looked at me with a mix of sympathy and amusement, like I was some rookie stumbling through an initiation ritual.

“Hey, how come I had to eat it like the girls, but all the other men get two on a plate?” I asked, my tone betraying my frustration.

“You want two? Here you go, sugar,” Daisy replied with mock seriousness, holding up another piping hot pig in a blanket on her tongs. Her grin was downright devilish. It struck me how different her expression was from my mother’s—this playful smirk seemed entirely unique to Daisy.

I didn’t bite – refusing even as she waved the hot snack teasingly under my nose.

“C’mon, you’re holding up the line,” she added with a dramatic sigh.

My father and Eddie, noticing the exchange, glanced over. Eddie broke the silence. “What’s she doin’ to ya, Nick?”

“I’m just initiating him into the V.I.P. club,” Daisy answered smoothly, her playful smile firmly in place. “This is how we feed our very important guests.”

Dancer, delicately balancing a tray as she moved through the room, chuckled at the exchange. “Nachos, anyone?” she called out, her voice light. “Cheese is extra warm, just like the mood.” Laughter rippled through the room again as she deftly dipped a nacho into the steaming cheese and fed it to one of the squatting women with practiced ease.

I marveled at how the women maintained straight faces despite biting into what had to be scalding chips.

Dancer eventually reached the men, setting plates in front of them with care. “Here you go, sugar,” she said warmly, her tone professional yet inviting.

I turned back to Daisy, still unsettled. “Cupid, you’re feeding me like the girls at the party. Why?”

She looked me dead in the eye, her smile never wavering. “Oh honey, this is something you have to do to work your way up into the upper echelon. You don’t start out at the level of the regulars here. These men have been coming for years.”

Before I could reply, Eddie’s voice cut in from across the room. “Upper echelon? Daisy, don’t start with that V.I.P. nonsense. There’s no upper echelon—it’s just you bein’ a pain in the ass to the newbies.”

The room chuckled, and Daisy gave him a playful glare, but Eddie wasn’t done. He turned to my dad, gesturing with his drink. “Did Nick even get an orientation? I mean, we’ve been razzin’ him all night, but you can’t haze a guy who doesn’t know the rules. That’s just cruel.”

Dad nodded, his expression firm. “Exactly. First-time guests get an explanation. He didn’t get one, so maybe tone it down a notch, Daisy. You’ve been layin’ it on thick, and he’s just tryin’ to figure out what the hell’s goin’ on.”

Daisy’s grin faltered, and she held up her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I don’t mean nothin’ by it.” She placed two pigs in a blanket on a plate, handed them to me, and moved on.

But Eddie wasn’t letting her off that easily. “One night outta the year, we ask you to stop being an actual Twat and serve at the Twatmas party. 364 nights out of the year, I’d help you put the Rudolph nose on the kid myself. But tonight, I want you to apologize to your nephew. And while you’re at it, let him feed you while you squat.”

Eddie offered me a confident wink, as if to say ‘you are alright, kid! I got your back!’.

The room erupted in laughter, and Daisy’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, come on,” she groaned, but Dad raised an eyebrow, and she relented. “Alright, fine.”

She turned to me, her tone softer, more sincere. “Nick, I am so sorry. I didn’t really think about it. They’re right—you’re new to all this, and you don’t know what’s goin’ on. I tease everyone, though, it’s nothin’ personal. Do you forgive me?”

I nodded, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment from everyone watching me, especially Blitzen who was holding her tray, “Yeah.”

Eddie smirked. “Go on, Nick. Take a pig in a blanket and feed your Aunt Cupid, ‘cause she’s stupid.”

Daisy groaned dramatically but set down her tray, handing it to Blitzen. Then, to everyone’s delight, she squatted down, spreading her knees wide, and placed her palms on her head. “Alright, Nick, feed me.”

I hesitated, feeling like all eyes were on me. My dad and Eddie stood there watching, both grinning.

“Don’t look at us,” Dad said. “Go on and feed Cupid her own medicine or tell her to get back to work.”

Daisy opened her mouth wide, biting down carefully. “Okay, this is hot as heck,” she mumbled through clenched teeth, her cheeks puffing out. Once Blitzen handed over the tray, she returned to the squatting position, hands on top of her head, stuck her butt out and remained squatting.

My Aunt took back the tray with a dramatic flair. “May I stand up now and get back to work? I’ll eat this when it cools down.”

I nodded permission, although I didn’t feel it was mine to give. My Aunt could do what she wanted and usually did. Cupid stood, quickly slipping back into her usual cheerful self as she returned to serving like nothing had ever happened even though she was holding a pig in a blanket between her teeth until it cooled down.

The attention shifted back away from me, and I felt relief. I didn’t want to be the center of drama. I was already in a precarious position with my parents still unsure if I could stay at the party.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Mrs. Sanderson, leaning in with a warm smile. “That was really funny,” she said. “You handled it so well. I can’t believe this is your first time at one of these parties—you’re doing great. It’s my first time coming to one of these, too, but I had a little heads-up about what to expect.”

Blitzen’s kind tone eased some of my lingering nerves. I felt I could confide in her, and since she was still squatting on the floor in front of me – she wasn’t exactly going anywhere. I leaned closer to Mrs. Sanderson—Blitzen—and whispered, “Isn’t it painful? I mean, they stuffed that thing in your mouth dripping with hot cheese, and you’re squatting like that… How is this okay?”

“I practiced before I got here to eat like this, it’s how they feed Reindeer at the North Pole, haven’t you heard?” she said facetiously. “It’s a little painful, but I’ve given birth, so I am tough – so are all the women here.”

“I just don’t understand why they would even make you eat that way?” I asked, genuinely baffled.

“I think it’s funny to them,” she said with a shrug, her tone both resigned and amused. I assumed that she meant the other men at the party for it amusing – I couldn’t imagine my mom and sister did.

“How?”

“You are such a nice guy, to talk to me and worry if I am okay. I consented to all this, okay? I am a big girl, literally,” Blitzen looked down at her ass, and frowned as if it was too huge not to be laughed at. I thought she looked great. “It’s going to take more than some Nacho cheese to make me cry! ”

“Why would you want to be made to cry?”

“Heh, well it’s fun to feel SOMETHING, eh?” she added with a wintry smile. “Look, there are people who take pleasure in pain. I am not one of them, but I can handle some hot cheese, and pigs in a blanket, Nick. I appreciate your concern. Wait until later when we play Pin the tail on the Reindeer! You’ll probably really freak out then.”

“They pin a tail on YOU?”

“Not exactly ON, but… IN.” Blitzen paused, letting the implication sink in before continuing. “And if you stick around, you’ll play. It’s all fun and games—none of us are languishing like virgins, Nick. We came to play rough. It’s one night of the year where we’re supposed to set aside dignity, pride, and ego and just be dumb bimbos and twats.”

I frowned because she seemed to be so down on herself. I didn’t like that she called herself a bimbo or a twat. “You are neither of those things”

“Well, tonight I’m trying to be, Sir,” she replied with a snicker. The way she called me “Sir” was oddly respectful, even coy. She shifted slightly, glancing over her shoulder with her face blazing red. The movement drew my eyes to her big, round butt, and I wondered if she was embarrassed by her words or her exposed position.

I liked how she called me “Sir” – it felt like she meant it respectfully. I was a bit tongue tied as I admired the softness of her back, and the curves of her body. I think she thought I was bored because I stopped talking.

“I don’t know. It’s kind of funny to me, too,” she admitted quietly. “It’s so outrageous—I’m mortified, humiliated, and yet… I can’t stop my pussy from gushing. And squatting like this?” She adjusted her stance slightly, emphasizing her point. “There isn’t much I can do to hide that. I knew what I’d have to do as a Reindeer, but until I actually just did it – I would never know how it really felt. It’s almost like I am laughing with everyone else AT myself, I know that doesn’t make sense. It’s still early yet.”

I liked how cautiously optimistic, and sensitive Blitzen was. She wasn’t like all the extroverts at the party. She was obviously an introvert like me, but one who wanted to do something wild – and that intrigued me almost as much as staring at her oversized body parts did.

Blitzen reminded me of a Clydesdale – the biggest of all horses. They are to scale the same as any other horse, but just bigger in every way. She was like a gentle, sweet, giantess with massive tits and a huge ass.

I felt like when she chuckled for a moment and then looked at me, she was inviting me to come around to look at her pussy from where I was sitting just so that I could see the waterfall she was talking about. I stayed glued to the couch – my dick throbbing in my jeans.

I stayed quiet for a moment, not sure how to respond. From where I stood behind her, all I could see was her backside, and I could barely wrap my head around how casually she admitted all that.

She continued, her voice softer now but raw with introspection. “My life is… simple. Boring, if I’m being honest. I’m not one of those women who has men falling all over themselves to get my attention. So yeah, this is humiliating, but it’s also exciting. The audacity of it—being made to squat, eat this way, treated like some cherished pet—it’s so absurd it circles back to thrilling. It’s the most exciting thing I’ve done in years.”

Her words hung in the air, vulnerable yet defiant. For a moment, I wondered if she regretted saying it, but then she added with a small, daring smile, “And you know what? I like it. It’s naughty and wild, and for one night, I get to feel like I’m part of something completely different. It’s ridiculous, but it’s fun.”

That was a lot to take in. I nodded awkwardly, my eyes still drawn to her exposed backside. “Well,” I said, struggling for the right words, “I guess that makes sense… in a really weird way.”

She offered me a wintry laugh, adjusting her stance again to stick her butt out more and hold the squat position firmly. “Weird is not bad, Nick. We are all weird, sometimes we are just too afraid to find others who appreciate are weird, and sometimes, weird is exactly what you need to wake up a little. The key is to just laugh if you find our antics funny. The worst thing is to be the Jester that nobody laughs at.”

What a great story, hope to see more of it

I really like your stories . Please dont let the negetive people stop you have only got the 1st chapter done and love it .

Glad that you're back.

Cupid had straightened by then, clearly having recovered from any lingering humiliation she might’ve felt while squatting for me. If anything, she seemed energized, tossing a quick glance over her shoulder at Dancer before finishing the last bite of her Pig in a Blanket. Within moments, she was back to her usual self, commanding attention as if nothing had happened.

“Don’t hog all the attention with your snacks, Dancer. I’ve got a reputation to uphold here! My nephew just knocked me down a peg, and even my husband, Rider, agreed I’m getting too big for the pants I don’t wear,” she said, pointing to her bare legs.

I felt a little bad for my aunt’s theatrics. It seemed like I had embarrassed her.

Dancer didn’t miss a beat, shooting her an exaggeratedly offended look. “Oh, I’m the snack-bitch? I’ll take whatever attention I can get, sweetie. Three hundred sixty-four days a year, I don’t get to play this game! He can make me squat anytime he wants, as long as everybody watches ME!” She punctuated her words with a dramatic roll of her eyes, her tone dripping with mock exasperation.

Dancer was gorgeous, but in a room of big, beautiful blonde women, she was just “one of the girls.”

Comet—Mom—jumped in from across the room, unable to resist stirring the pot. “What about Thanksgiving, Halloween, and that week you spent at Hedonism III with Eddie? That was all in the last few months!”

Cupid brushed her hands together to clear off crumbs, smoothing her hair like nothing had happened as she regained the spotlight.

Cupid brushed her hands together to clear off crumbs, smoothing her hair like nothing had happened as she regained the spotlight.

Dancer gasped theatrically, clutching her chest like she’d been mortally wounded. “Sure, but Christmas is special, Comet! Now, quit complaining and put another wiener in your mouth.”

The room erupted into laughter. Cupid spun toward Mom, who was already obliging with a grin. She squatted down dramatically, her knees spread wide and opened her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. “There’s my baby bird,” Cupid cooed, leaning in. “Open wide, blue eyes!”

Mom did exactly that, letting her sister feed her a hot Pig in a Blanket while everyone around them cheered and chuckled. Cupid gave her a playful wink before moving on to the next snack delivery, leaving Mom to stand and smooth out her dress with an amused shake of her head.

The moment left me feeling more confused than anything else. I blurted out, “So, are you guys slaves or something?”

The room quieted for half a second as Mom choked on her drink, coughing as she waved her hand dismissively. “What? No! Why would you even think that?”

I gestured vaguely toward the women kneeling or squatting around the room. “I don’t know… it’s just… you’re all down there, and they’re all up here.”

Mom’s expression softened, and she glanced around the room before answering. “It’s more about roles we take on for the night. The women serve because that’s the theme of the Twatmas party—it’s our way of making it special. Trust me, it’s not forced or serious, and if anyone didn’t want to join in, they wouldn’t.”

Daisy—Cupid—joined the conversation, her grin still mischievous but her tone less teasing. “Exactly, sugar. It’s about giving the party a little extra flair. Sure, the women are down here tonight, but believe me, we run just as much of this show as anyone else.”

Mom nodded in agreement. “No one is here against their will. You’re the only one here against my will, and your dad overruled me, at least for now. We do this because we enjoy it. We’ve been doing it for years, and it evolves every year. Tomorrow, we’ll be bossing the men around to help clean up and put everything back where it belongs. Tonight, just happens to be about the fun of playing a role. It’s a Christmas gift to the men in our lives. We let them boss us around, tease us, play their games, even come up with party rules to keep things lively—but it’s just for the night before Christmas.”

I still didn’t get it—especially with my mother referring to herself as a Twat and pointing to her shaved pussy. I’d never seen her fully nude before, or even topless.

My sister rolled her eyes but decided to chime in. “Nick, the girls are the ‘Twatmas Twats’ for tonight—which means we serve the men.”

That sounded like bondage and slavery to me, but I really had no firsthand experience with any of that kind of stuff.

Harley pointed to her bald pussy and explained, “Anyone with a twat at the party is a reindeer girl, and we play reindeer games. We aren’t slaves. We’re reindeer, and we’ve each been assigned a rider that we have to take extra special care of. That’s why I’m here.” Harley patted the older man’s leg lovingly and nodded toward Evan, who had Prancer kneeling next to him. “My DSL sister Prancer is taking care of my boyfriend in return!”

“Hey!” Prancer waved at me, proudly.

I wasn’t sure if I should wave back—it felt like she was saying hi to me. I waved awkwardly and smiled. The girls at the party were ultra-friendly and outgoing. The only ones who seemed a little more grounded were my sister and Blitzen. Even my mother was outgoing with everyone else at the party—laughing it up and smiling like she was in a beauty pageant.

“If it helps to think of us as slaves, that’s fine, but we prefer the term Twats,” my sister said. “Because 364 days out of the year, we can be bitches, sluts, saints, or whatever we want—but not tonight. Anyone who comes to this party with one of these”—she drew my eye to her bald pussy with a finger—“has to serve someone with a dick between his legs,” she said, pointing to me. “It’s just a game. Tomorrow, I’m nobody’s slave. I’ll be back to doing Christmas with you as your big sister. And whatever happens tonight, it’s like Fight Club—don’t talk about Fight Club. It stays here between us. Do that, and maybe next year you’ll get invited back—without sneaking in.”

I couldn’t look at my sister’s pussy while she explained all this. I tried looking anywhere else, but all I saw were bare titties, asses, and bald pussies in all directions. Girls crouched, sitting on their butts, or carrying around trays of Christmas cakes.

My mom added, “I know what it looks like, Nick. It’s not slavery—it’s entirely consensual. Call it… playful servitude, if that helps.”

“Playful servitude?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Harley said, her tone light but direct. “It’s part of the whole ‘gift’ thing. Think of it like this: for one night, we’re their designated Reindeer. But it’s a Christmas gift—it’s meant to be fun. Are you having fun, little brother?”

Before I could say anything, Eddie leaned over with a mischievous smirk. “You can join ’em, if you aren’t having a blast, buddy. I’ve got a red clown nose in my van. Don’t ask me why.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Daisy beat me to it, her drawl as sharp as ever. “I am not dressing up in the clown suit again, sweetness. That was a one-time deal, after you bought me the dress I wanted.”

“Spoilsport. See how badly your Aunt treats me?” Eddie was clearly being facetious. There was obvious love between them. I wasn’t sure why he’d want my aunt in a clown get-up, but given all I had seen tonight, I had a few theories.

The group laughed, and I shifted uncomfortably, not entirely sure whether to laugh along or ask more questions. Everything about this felt both completely absurd and strangely… normal, like I’d stepped into an alternate universe where my family and neighbors embraced a new set of rules for the night.

“Twats the night before Christmas,” Eddie announced in a booming voice to the partygoers. Everyone turned to look at him. “Five minutes to the first Reindeer game! Mistletoe Kissing Roulette, which is a fuck-ton more fun than Russian Roulette!”

“You tell that joke every year,” one of the men yelled out, adding, “When are you going to actually play it so we can get someone to run the show with new material?”

“Fuck you, Harold!” Eddie shot back with a smirk, knowing exactly who had said it.

“His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.”

Eddie had two bottles of tequila. “One for spinning, one for drinking—and when we’ve finished that one, we’ll spin the empty bottle and drink the other one,” he promised his rowdy friends.

I didn’t drink, and I wasn’t old enough to drink. I noticed my sister cheered, though—she wasn’t old enough to drink either. I wondered if my mom wouldn’t mind if she did.

He also had a stick with mistletoe hanging from it, which he held over people’s heads when it was time for them to kiss.

The laughter around the room quieted as Eddie took center stage, twirling the mistletoe stick dramatically. “Alright, folks! Dasher, naughty box time is over.”

Woo-hoo!” Dasher exclaimed, popping to her feet.

Eddie smirked. “But you know how this works during games—nose to the floor, butt up.”

“Awww,” Dasher groaned, but she dutifully complied, lowering herself with a dramatic flair. Her nose grazed the floor, her rear raised high. “Happy now?”

“Thrilled,” Daisy teased, swatting Dasher’s beautiful big ass, playfully before taking her seat to my right. I was sandwiched between my aunt and my mom, who sat stiffly on my left, her polished demeanor in full force.

“Great. I’m between the same person, just polar opposites,” I muttered under my breath.

Cupid leaned in; her grin as wide as her mischief. “Alright, ground rules! Tonight, I am not your Aunt. She is not your Mom. And if anyone dares to say ‘Aunt,’ ‘Mom,’ or ‘Sister,’ they’re headed straight to the Naughty Corner. Agreed?”

A unanimous chorus of “aye” rang out, even Mrs. Stephenson reluctantly nodding along about a new “Reindeer Rule” which could earn the girls time on the naughty corner. I wasn’t sure why even the women were celebrating it. I didn’t see why it only applied to the women.

Eddie raised the bottle of tequila, the other bottle in his hand like a trophy. “Tequila for the brave. For those too young or too chicken, we’ve got eggnog, no wait, that’s got Southern comfort in it, but not nearly as much. But if you’re playing, you’re committing—lips, butt, or backyard. Pick only one!”

“Cheaper than therapy,” Dad quipped dryly, earning laughter from the room. I wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Alright!” Daisy clapped. “Quit the yammering and start the spinning!”

The first spin stopped on Harley and Jerry. I stiffened, watching my sister’s face flush as Jerry extended a hand to help her up. She shot me an uncertain glance but then accepted, allowing Jerry to pull her into an embrace.

Their kiss wasn’t brief or shy. Jerry cupped her face with one hand while the other rested lightly on her waist. Harley didn’t hold back either; she leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as their lips met. It wasn’t just a peck—it was deep, passionate, with tongues involved. The room erupted into a mix of cheers and whistles, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Harley really liked Jerry or if she was just an incredible actress.

They didn’t mess around at this party – I got the most awkward chubby in my pants, just watching my sister kiss this total stranger.

When they finally broke apart, Harley’s face was glowing, her blush unmistakable as she retook her seat. She reached for a shot of tequila, but Mom’s voice cut through the noise. “Nope!”

Harley pouted dramatically. “Half?”

“Oh c’mon, she’s a reindeer; let the girl have a little. She ain’t driving nowhere, blue eyes!” Daisy pleaded.

Mom sighed, relenting. “One shot!”

Harley grinned triumphantly, throwing back the tequila while the crowd roared in approval. It was pretty obvious to me that she had definitely had tequila before!

The second spin landed on Prancer and Gary. Prancer sprang up with theatrical flair, her hands on her hips. “Well, cowboy, looks like it’s your lucky night.”

Gary chuckled, standing to meet her. “Let’s make it one to remember.”

Prancer grabbed his face with both hands, leaning in for a kiss so exaggerated it earned whistles and cheers. She broke away with a loud smooch, leaving a red lipstick print on Gary’s cheek. “Now that’s how you spread holiday cheer!” she declared, sashaying back to her seat.

I couldn’t believe it—the kissing lottery. I had never seen people so happy to kiss people they barely knew. I wondered if they would feel that way about me if someone landed on me.

The tequila spun again, this time pointing directly at Mom and Eddie.

Mom groaned, standing with the air of someone headed to the gallows. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Eddie grinned, opening his arms wide. “C’mon, Comet. Make it magical.”

To her credit, Mom didn’t hesitate. She leaned in and gave him what looked like a proper kiss—not too long, but enough to satisfy the crowd. Her lips moved deliberately as though she was trying to sell the illusion.

When she pulled back, she wiped her lips with the back of her arm. “Your butt doesn’t taste bad!” Mom quipped, clearly joking about pretending the kiss had been on Eddie’s butt instead of his mouth, wiping her arm across her lips to get the taste out and then taking a shot of tequila because that obviously didn’t work.

Eddie could take a joke as well as make one, and he was the loudest to laugh.

The room roared with laughter as Mom sat her bare ass back on the floor, and folded her legs, smoothing her hair with as much dignity as she could muster, though her cheeks were still slightly pink from embarrassment. Eddie just grinned and winked at her, raising the tequila bottle in a mock toast.
The fourth spin landed squarely on Mrs. Stephenson—Blitzen—and Daisy—Cupid.

Daisy shot up, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh, heck yes! This is what I’ve been waiting for.”

Mrs. Stephenson laughed nervously. “Go easy on me, Daisy.”

“No promises,” Daisy said, closing the distance between them with a predatory grin. She wrapped her arms around Blitzen and leaned in for a kiss that had the room dead silent. Daisy held it dramatically, her fingers trailing up Blitzen’s cheek, before pulling away with a flourish.

She held up ten fingers, grinning as the room erupted into cheers. “Now that’s how you kiss under the mistletoe!” she declared.

I barely had time to process the spectacle before the tequila spun again, this time pointing directly at me—and Dad.

The room exploded with laughter and whoops. “Well, son,” Dad said, his voice calm but his grin mischievous. “Looks like it’s you and me.”

I froze, my face turning crimson. “Uh…”

“Lips, butt, or backyard,” Eddie reminded me gleefully. “Your call.”

You either kiss on the open mouth, kiss on the ass, or go outside for the remainder of the mistletoe game and shiver in the nude. I feared if we had to kiss on the open mouth, did that mean on the butthole itself? Gross. I couldn’t imagine ANYONE picking the butt option.

Dad sighed, taking a tequila shot before standing. “I’ll spare you the therapy bills, son. Butt it is.”

Groaning, I reluctantly stood and lowered my jeans to expose my rear. “Jeans to the ankles,” Mom reminded me, her tone mock-stern.

Blushing furiously, I complied. Dad leaned in, planting a quick peck on my cheek.

“That’s it?” Daisy exclaimed. “Oh, c’mon, you’d have made me go for the caramel center!”

Mom crossed her arms. “You’re redoing it. You’d have made me go back, and you know it.”

Groaning again, Dad leaned in, this time planting a solid kiss that left a faint hickey on my left cheek. “There,” he said, straightening. “Happy now?”

I quickly pulled up my jeans, only to have Daisy pinch my behind. “So cute! I used to change your diaper—still looks the same!” she teased.

Mrs. Stephenson grinned. “That’s not coming off for a few days. Hope your girlfriend doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I muttered.

The DSL ladies let out an enthusiastic “Woooooo!” making me blush furiously.

“That’s my son!” Mom snapped, immediately realizing her mistake—she had just broken the new “naughty rule” the group had made. There were celebratory theatrics all around when the group decided on it, but now my mom was frowning because she was the first one to be snared by it.

I felt bad that she was in trouble because she was proud of me.

“Thank god!” Dasher said, springing up from her pose as Mom groaned, knowing what she had to do. She went nose-to-the-floor, butt up, her chest pressing against the hardwood.

For a brief moment, Mom glanced at me, and it was that look—the one that made my stomach twist with guilt, even though technically, it was her fault she was down there. Her eyes seemed to bore through me, making me question every decision that had led to this moment.

But then her face softened, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she broke the tension. “I almost never get naughty time,” she said to no one in particular, with a sigh, her tone light and reflective but turned her head to me. “Am I ever going to live this down around you, Nick?”

I felt bad for her, I wasn’t sure what she’d have to endure whispered supportively; I met her eyes and shrugged. “It’s… different, but you seem happy. That’s what matters, right?”

Mom shot me an endearing look of pride.

“Three slaps for the naughty!” Eddie declared with theatrical glee, holding up a brown leather strap decorated with mistletoe symbols.

The crowd joined in, counting the strikes from the leather strap like they were ringing in the New Year. “Three! Two! One!” Each swat landed with a sharp crack, followed by exaggerated groans from Mom and wild cheers from the group.

Mom flinched, letting out an exaggerated, high-pitched “Ow!” before laughing it off. “Alright, alright,
you had your fun,” she said, adjusting her position, wiping one finger quickly across her backside, and glancing up at me to see my reaction. I tried to pretend that I had not seen that.

I didn’t think the spanking was that particularly hard – it was three quick cracks with a leather strap. Mom had even seemed to enjoy it – but she did look a little mortified that I had watched.

My mom seemed to enjoy it much more than I thought she might. Comet shook her head, her big pink butt wiggling slightly as she adjusted her pose, which only made the group snicker.

Everyone else seemed to think this was all perfectly normal. I still wasn’t convinced I hadn’t stumbled into a weird holiday-wet dream. Suffice it to say; this is NOT the kind of party I thought they’d be having. It was so much more than I could have imagined. It was this weird world where every woman was nice, generous with her body, brought us snacks, seemed open to being humiliated and sitting on the floor, and would passionately kiss anyone if the tequila bottle lands the right way. The fireplace was crackling, everyone was laughing and having a good time, and I felt almost included.

I liked it, I just wasn’t entirely certain they wanted me here, and that made me feel like an outsider.

Mom groaned from her nose-to-the-floor position. She had her palms flat on the wooden floor by her face, pressing her nose and nipples down as well, and stuck her butt up in the air, arching her back and keeping her legs apart. “I can’t believe I am already in the naughty position and in my OWN house!”

I hesitated for a moment, then smirked, deciding to lean into the absurdity. “Looks like this is one gift that doesn’t need unwrapping. Thanks for the view, Mom.”

The room erupted into laughter, Daisy almost toppling over as she clutched her sides. “Oh, I like this kid,” she wheezed.

Mom shook her head, the hint of a grin lingering. “You little brat,” she murmured, more amused than anything else.

Eddie didn’t miss a beat, raising his tequila bottle with a grin. “Reindeers have two gifts back there, Nick—one brown eye, and one pink eye. With Cupid and Comet, they give until it hurts! And EVERYBODY gets a turn!”

“Two if you are up to it,” Daisy crowed, holding up two fingers with a lusty expression – I knew exactly what they were implying. The fact that the crowd did as well definitely shocked me about how wild my mother truly was.

The room erupted in laughter, Mom rolling her eyes but managing a small grin. “Yes, Nick,” she said, her tone mock serious. “Reindeer holes are gifts—but only for our riders and anyone they say can hop on. Not you.”

Eddie raised a hand, his grin fading just enough to give Mom a look. “Comet, that was rude. Apologize to the boy, and make it count.”

Mom blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Rude? What did I even say?”

Eddie grew serious for a moment, so that my mother knew he was not kidding. “Reindeer don’t get to act stuck up or put down others. You don’t hide your body away. You smile, show off, be playful, and serve. And tonight, you’re everyone’s Comet, not just Nick’s mom. Be honest with him! He called your holes an unwrapped gift—is it?”

Eddie’s question seemed incredibly inappropriate and direct, but no one even blinked.
I also noticed that Eddie did not get in trouble for saying “Mom”—the double standard on rules seemed really odd to me. I thought someone else might have a problem with it.

“I know, Sir,” Mom groaned and called my uncle so naturally that I almost didn’t notice, resting her forehead on the floor for a moment. “Fine,” she muttered, lifting her head slightly to look at me. “I’m sorry, Nick. That was mean of me. I shouldn’t have made you feel like I’m going to snap your head off. Yes, my twat and asshole are unwrapped gifts.”

“For whom?” Eddie asked.

My mom’s uncomfortable face began to blush with humiliation as she said, “You, Sir. My rider, and anyone you want to mount me.”

“Very good,” Eddie bent down and patted my mother on the head like she was a lovable pet.

As if to punctuate her apology, Mom knocked her head lightly against the floor again and let out a self-deprecating laugh. “See? I’m harmless. Just your friendly neighborhood Twatmas reindeer.”

Eddie, however, wasn’t quite done. “Nice try, Comet. You did okay, but this isn’t your first warning. Be nice to the boy. Three more slaps of the lash for missing the holiday spirit!”

“Hey!” Mom shouted in playful surprise.

Eddie brought down the first swat on Mom’s bare bottom with a whip-crack sound, and she bit her lip and closed her pretty blue eyes like she was savoring it. It truly was upside-down world—how was she enjoying it?

One of the guys in the group yelled out, “The beatings will continue until morale improves!”

He gave her two more swats, while the audience counted them out and giggled. Eddie counted them by simply shouting out “HO!” on each downstroke.

Eddie grinned. “Reindeer have three Ho-Ho-Holes, and they know how to spread Christmas cheer.”

The double entendre was so thick, I could cut it with a butter knife. I had to cross my legs and adjust my cock because I had a painful boner in my pants. Blitzen caught me mid-tuck, and our eyes locked. She had such lovely, innocent doe-eyes. I blushed and looked away, but not before she recognized what I was doing. For a moment, I felt like we connected, though I wasn’t sure if she was judging me or finding the whole thing as absurd as I did.

Mom’s face and butt turned a faint pink as the group cheered and laughed. Eddie chuckled, clearly pleased, and said that every girl should have an ass as red as Santa’s coat. “Now, that’s the holiday spirit!”

Eddie clapped his hands, breaking up the moment. “Alright, alright! Enough smacking booties and attitude adjustments. Let’s get back to the game. Spin the bottle, Nick! Let’s find out who you’re making kissy face with.”

“Or kissy butt!” Harley chimed in, hopefully, winking at me from across the circle.

Wow, it was really my turn—this meant I was going to be kissing someone, but who? There were easily five women in the room who weren’t blood relatives—any of them would be fine. I tried not to think about what would happen if it wasn’t one of them.

Eddie spun the bottle with a dramatic flourish, and the room went quiet as everyone watched it slowly turn. My heart pounded as I avoided making eye contact, silently praying it wouldn’t land on Mom or Harley.

The bottle slowed, teasingly pointing between Mom and Harley, before landing squarely on Mom. The room fell into a hushed silence, everyone holding their breath. I couldn’t believe my shitty luck -Who was next, Harley? Eddie?

“Well, I guess that’s what you get for sitting next to him,” Cupid teased with a wicked grin.

Mom’s face turned a delicate shade of pink as she glanced at me. “Wait a minute. What’s wrong with me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Would you rather kiss Cupid? Just imagine it’s her.”

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “Mom, I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, shit, shit, shit!” Harley exclaimed, cutting me off and pointing at the table dramatically. “This is piping hot, and I am here for it. Go ahead, Nick, spill it!”

The room erupted in laughter, and I couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, holding up my hands. “Okay, fine. Nothing’s wrong with you, Comet. I’m just… uh, let’s say I’m exercising my right to be thoroughly uncomfortable about this situation.”

My mom remained in the naughty position – I assumed that was the rule – ass up and tits to the floor. However, she did look up at me. I guess she had to wait until I decided what I was going to do. I stood over her reluctantly.

Comet looked up at me from the floor, unsympathetically. She seemed to sense my apprehension and reluctance. Her lips twitched into a sly smile as she glanced at me sideways. “Oh, really? You think you’re uncomfortable? Try putting your nose to the floor you waxed this morning, nipples flat against the floor, ass up, with your legs apart. Then we’ll talk about ‘uncomfortable.’” Her voice had a teasing edge, but there was no real malice in it. “I have to be nice to you because I am a twat, Sir pucker up!!”

I have to admit that I really liked it when my mom called me sir – quite casually. It didn’t seem like a requirement, but I had noticed all the girls do it now and then when talking to the men.

Mom was being playful, and trying to deflect a little with humor while being a good sport about it, and a far better one than I would have been. I would have been so mortified that I’d probably have gotten sick. The smell of tequila in the air didn’t help – it made me a little nauseous.

Eddie, sensing the moment, stepped in with flair, spinning the mistletoe stick dramatically. “Well, folks, looks like we’ve got ourselves a rare Triple Spin moment! Two ‘opt-outs’ already—what’s it gonna be this time? Are we calling it a hat trick, or is Nick breaking the streak?” He looked directly at me, his grin wolfish. “"There are guys who would pay $100 bucks to kiss your mom just once, I should know, I've made a fortune when we go on vacation"

My mother chucked playfully but did not deny it.

The room erupted into a flurry of suggestions:

“You can always kiss the butt, son, no shame in it,” Dad offered his advice, his tone light but serious. It might be the option with the least amount of shame attached to it. I suspected somehow, I’d say yes, and they’d say for women – of course, you have to kiss them on the “Ass-Ho-Ho-Ho!!”

Harley smirked, leaning in. “Forget that, kiss, kiss, kiss!” she chanted, joined by a few others.

Daisy’s voice cut through the chatter like a whip, her tone dripping with mock seduction. “Or… you could fantasize about MOI? I mean, it’d be a first, someone kissing another woman and thinking about me. I like the idea.”

Mrs. Sanderson shifted uncomfortably, lifting one of her pendulous boobs and adjusted herself. “Oh, come on, folks. It’s his first time playing, and it’s his mom. Don’t make it so weird!”

Her comment went unnoticed by most, but I appreciated the effort. Maybe it was her soft-spoken tone, or maybe everyone was too entertained by the awkward spectacle of Mom and me squirming. Mom, for her part, didn’t seem eager to take the ‘easy out’ and kiss me on the butt cheek—or head for the door. She came to play and made no secret that she would follow every rule.

Comet raised an eyebrow, her voice calm but firm. “Rules are rules, Nick. You heard them when Eddie laid them out. You wanted to be a big shot and crash this party I specifically told you not to come to. Honestly, I didn’t want to kiss you either, but I’m inclined to say this is your punishment. If you are this disgusted by kissing me on the lips, you aren’t ready for the other Reindeer Games!”

Eddie warned my mom he’d pop her butt, and this time she would NOT like it (very much) he added playfully before reminding her that I can tease her – it doesn’t work the other way around. “You want to punish him, do it outside of the party.”

Then he turned to me, his tone playful but direct. “Nick, you’ve got two choices: stick to the rules or take a walk out that door. No one’s forcing you, but if you stay, you play. Simple as that.”

I glanced around the circle, feeling the weight of every pair of eyes on me. The tension was palpable, but so was the playful energy. I inhaled deeply, straightened my shoulders, and nodded decisively. “Alright. Let’s just get it over with.”

My mom sighed and frowned – no doubt unhappy with how put upon I was. She was probably feeling the same way. She wouldn’t even be in this situation if I hadn’t come snooping around. I felt about that. I could see why she didn’t want me at the party now.

Eddie grinned, stepping back with a flourish. “That’s the spirit! Everyone, take notes: this is how you handle a kissing challenge like a champ!”

I moved closer to my mom, my heart pounding as the cheers turned into a rhythmic chant. I had to make a decision. When I looked down at her at my feet, I realized her gaze had softened just slightly, her earlier playfulness tempered with a touch of genuine affection. This was going to be a very non-Mom/son kiss if I had the courage to play, and we both knew it. I regretted my decision to join in—I wanted to kiss some random DSL lady or my neighbor. Was it worth this humiliation?

Comet sighed and adjusted her position, her nose grazing the polished floor she had waxed earlier that day, periodically looking up at me. My mother’s ass was raised high in the air, her long legs framing the scene, making my already-pounding heart race even faster.

"Even if I was allowed to stand up right now," she said, her tone laced with exaggerated patience, "I might still be bending down like this anyway if you take your dad's way out. Just remember—this was your idea to join the party."

It seemed so humiliating to make my mom play from the floor this way – I felt bad for her. I guess that was the idea of being in the ‘naughty position’. If you don’t like it – don’t be naughty.

The problem, as I saw it was that these women seemed to enjoy showing off and loved attention, including my mother.

My face burned as I shuffled uncomfortably, the weight of the room’s laughter pressing down on me. For a brief moment, her eyes flicked up at me, soft yet accusing, like she was calling me out for sneaking cookies from the jar.

"If I kiss you, I won’t be in trouble for coming here?" I asked, trying to gauge her reaction – and get a promise that I wouldn’t face a penalty tomorrow. I think my mom thought I was trying to be insulting in some way. She seemed offended but not angry.

She raised a brow—or at least I think she did, given her head was still tilted downward. "I’m not going to suspend you for showing up. The guys have already told me to watch how I treat you – you are here, so don’t break the rules. As long as you play the game, I’m good. I’m not that desperate for a kiss, though—you can kiss my cookie for all I care. Just decide: play the game or leave."

I got the impression cookie meant either ‘pussy’ or ‘asshole’, and I wasn’t going to ask if she meant that literally because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

I swallowed hard, the room falling silent as everyone waited for my response.

"Okay," I finally said, throwing caution to the wind. "Kiss."

"Finally!" Comet said, her voice a mix of exasperation and relief.

I hesitated, then stepped forward, feeling like I was walking into a gladiatorial arena. Mom pushed herself up from her previous position, brushing imaginary dust off her knees as she stood. Her expression was unreadable for a moment before it softened into something I could only describe as mischievous resignation.

“Well, I suppose if we’re doing this,” she said, her voice steady but her grin sheepish, “let’s at least make it convincing. Close your eyes, and you’re out of the will.”

The room burst into laughter, but I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. “Uh, okay, so… do I—?”

“Right here.” She tapped the center of her lips with her index finger, her eyes locking onto mine with a glint of amusement. “And none of that darting your eyes around, look at me right in the baby blues. This is what you get for crashing the party.”

I froze under her gaze, her tone playful but authoritative enough to make me straighten up. My heart thudded so loudly in my chest. I was sure everyone could hear it. I didn’t dare look away, even as she stepped closer, her hands lightly resting on my shoulders.

The room had gone silent. I could feel every set of eyes on us, the weight of their collective anticipation pressing down on me. Her expression shifted slightly, a hint of awkwardness blending with determination. She leaned in, her lips parting just enough to make the moment feel dangerously real.

“Relax,” she whispered, her tone softer now, almost conspiratorial. “It’s just a game, naughty but not real.”

Her lips met mine, warm and soft, with just enough pressure to satisfy the rules. My instinct was to pull back immediately, but I stayed put, locked in the moment as her lips lingered for a fraction of a second longer than I expected. I felt the faintest flicker of her breath against my skin, and my brain went blank.

When she pulled back, her expression was unreadable for half a beat before she gave me a quick, lopsided smile. “There. See? Not so bad.”

The room erupted into cheers and applause, breaking the spell. I stepped back, feeling the heat rise to my face as Harley wolf-whistled from her seat. “Mom, that wasn’t even fair! You’re gonna give the poor kid an identity crisis.”

“Harley!” I snapped, my voice cracking slightly, which only made the group laugh harder.

Mom raised an eyebrow at me, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “You did fine,” she said with a small shrug, her tone light but teasing. “And for the record, that’s one party rule you’ll remember.”

Eddie clapped his hands, grinning ear to ear. “Now that is what I call a proper tea-time challenge! Round of applause for the champ and his… uh, overly enthusiastic partner!”

Mom leaned back in her chair, smoothing her hair with mock dignity, her cheeks still faintly flushed. “Not bad, Nick,” she said slyly, glancing my way. “You’re a decent kisser, you know.”

I felt my face flush even harder, the tequila lingering on my lips as my brain scrambled for a response. I didn’t get a chance to say anything because the room burst into laughter again when she added, “And hey! A lot of men would love the taste of tequila off my lips!” Her grin widened when she caught me subtly wiping at my mouth with the back of my hand. “Hey, don’t wipe it off!” she teased, laughing. “I worked hard for that shot.”

As I stood there, still trying to process what had just happened, Harley leaned toward me, clearly trying to console me with a grin. “Hey, I’ve kissed Mom a bunch of times. It’s no big deal.”

The words hit me sideways, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or cringe. The room didn’t hesitate. The laughter that erupted was uproarious, cascading around us like a tidal wave of chaos.

Eddie’s head snapped up, his grin growing impossibly wide. “She said Mom! Naughty position, Donder! You are reindeer and Comet is just your adorable reindeer sister on the same Green team!”

Groaning dramatically, Donder dropped down, nose to the polished wooden floor, and stuck her bare bottom up for a spanking. “This is rigged,” she muttered, dropping into the position with flair—

“Three for the road!” Eddie announced, delivering three swift pats that echoed in the lively room. Donder wiggled her rear in exaggerated defiance. “Happy now?” she said, her tone dripping with mock annoyance, earning cheers and applause from the group.

“AH-HAHAHAH!!!” Mom’s laugh rang out above the din, loud and unrestrained. She grabbed the tequila bottle and poured herself another shot, raising it high in salute. “Naughty position! YES! High five!” She thrust her hand toward me with an exaggerated grin, her face flushed from the shot she’d just taken.

I froze for a second, still clueless as to why everyone was laughing so hard, but her outstretched hand prompted me into action. I slapped her hand for the high five, more out of reflex than anything else. The sharp smack of our palms only fueled the raucous energy in the room.

Her grin widened as she turned to Harley, pointing with delight. “Rules are rules, sweetheart! You said ‘Mom!’ And you know exactly what that means!”

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—Harley had just broken the rule about addressing someone by their family title. Suddenly, it all made sense: the laughter, the high five, the over-the-top reaction.

“Oh, man!” Harley groaned dramatically, dragging her feet as the laughter grew louder. “Really? You’re doing me like that?” She gave me a halfhearted glare before moving to the center of the circle to take my mother’s place as the “naughty” girl – who has to play the game ass up, nose on the floor!

DSL ladies, my mom, even Mrs. Stephenson laughed—my sister too, at her predicament, except for Evan. She wiggled slightly for effect, earning playful whistles and cheers from the group. “Happy now?” she muttered while in naughty position – nose to the floor, ass up.

Her Rider, Marty delivered three spanks with a leather strap – hard enough to turn my sister’s butt rosy pink. The group had several Christmas-themed paddles made of leather or wood, which they passed around. They weren’t big or intimidating, designed perfectly for a quick, harmless pop on the butt. Yet, my sister’s big smile even through the pain, surprised me – what kind of punishment was this?

What stood out to me most of all was the frowny shame face my sister made when she got the spankings for trying to console me. I shouldn’t have laughed at my sister’s humiliation—but it was funny.

What struck me was how the group seemed to have a double standard. The same rule didn’t apply to me, and I didn’t ask why—mostly because I didn’t want to end up being “Rudolph,” the ninth reindeer at this party.

“Delirious!” Mom laughed, holding her sides as she doubled over. She raised her glass in a playful salute. “That’s what I call taking one for the team!”

I stood there, still half-dazed, wondering if I’d somehow missed another joke. The tequila taste lingered faintly on my lips, and my thoughts circled back to the kiss. Had I done it right? Was it too much or not enough? I couldn’t tell if the laughter around me was for Harley’s antics or if they were still buzzing about my awkward debut in tongue-kissing time debut.

Eddie’s voice cut through the noise, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Hey, Nick!” He held up a shot glass, grinning like a wolf. “Half a shot for surviving the family kissy-face gauntlet. You earned it, son.”

Before I could protest, someone in the group shouted, “Oh, c’mon, he deserves at least half!”

“Agreed!” Daisy chimed in, leaning forward with her signature mischievous grin. “It’s a rite of passage.”

The group cheered as Eddie poured half a shot and held it out to me. My fingers hovered over the glass, hesitating. “Uh… I’m not sure—”

“Nick!” Mom interrupted; her tone playful but firm. “You made it this far. Just take the damn shot. If anything, it’ll help you recover.”

The laughter picked up again, and before I could second-guess myself, I threw the shot back. The burn hit sharper than I expected, and I coughed, which earned me teasing jeers and a few claps on the back.

“Welcome to adulthood, kid!” Eddie said, still grinning.



Meanwhile, Harley, still in her awkward position, groaned loud enough for everyone to hear. “I don’t even get a consolation shot for being nose-down on Christmas Eve?”

“You?” Mom fired back; her grin practically glowing. “Naughty girls who break party rules, don't get Santa cumming down their chimney!"

Mom’s double-entendre cracked up the group – but it struck me as incredibly forward to the point there was no doubt she meant getting fucked.

Harley groaned dramatically, her nose brushing the floor as she wiggled her rear in mock surrender. “I’m going to write to Santa, and he’s going to put lumps of coal up your butts on Christmas morning,” she pouted, her voice dripping with exaggerated despair and a bratty lisp.

Mrs. Sanderson leaned forward while the others were laughing, “Please tell us that wasn’t your first French kiss, Nick.”

The room went still for a heartbeat before erupting into a fresh wave of laughter. My face burned brighter than the tequila in my throat. “What? No! Of course not!” I blurted out, but the way my voice cracked gave me away.

“Oh, honey,” Daisy chimed in, wiping at her eyes as she caught her breath. “I’m sorry if your mom was your first kiss. If it’s any consolation, mine was so long ago I can’t even remember it—but you definitely won’t forget this one.”

Mom, sitting cross-legged with her elbows propped casually on her knees, grinned and leaned forward. “You need more practice. Your tongue is a little wet for my taste. But soft lips, Nick. Well done.”

“Mom!” I groaned, my face heating up even more – I could only imagine my father and sister’s reaction. “Do you really have to—” I stopped, shaking my head. “Never mind. I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

The laughter around me didn’t falter, and Mom leaned back with a satisfied smile, clearly enjoying the moment. “Honey, You’ve seen me beg to let any man at this party swap me for his wife, you know what that means. You’ve seen my entire ass, pussy, tits – there is no unseeing that. You’ve seen me squat to eat while Daisy fed me like a baby bird, and it’s EARLY yet. I think I can keep your secret if you keep mine. What happens at the Christmas party stays at the party.”

The group immediately echoed, “What happens at Twatmas, stays at the Twatmas!” in unison, their laughter roaring like a wave. I surmised that was obviously a core component of why some of the women felt free to behave in such humiliating ways – it wouldn’t ruin their reputations.

I still didn’t fully understand why the women were so open to being humiliated and why the men subjected them to it – but Daisy was the one who fed my mother. I hadn’t seen the red and green team swap session as the girl’s begging to be chosen – I saw it more like the men made them get auctioned off. It was clear that I didn’t fully understand the dynamic at work.

Mom shrugged casually, her grin widening. “Besides, there are plenty of girls here who will happily help you with your technique a little later.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that – there were a lot of pretty women here, and Blitzen’s eyes twinkled when I glanced up at her face after my mother suggested that. I didn’t want to seem overly eager, but that sounded good to me.

The room began to settle into a new rhythm as someone near the speakers shouted, “Play something fun!” Seconds later, the opening riff of Journey’s “Any Way You Want It” blasted through the air, drawing immediate cheers from the group.

By the time the chorus hit, everyone was singing—badly, but enthusiastically. “ANY WAY YOU WANT IT, THAT’S THE WAY YOU NEED IT, ANY WAY YOU WANT IT!” Even Eddie, who I thought was too cool to sing along, was belting out the words, pointing dramatically toward different people in the circle.

I didn’t know why, but in that moment, I felt the song hit differently. Maybe it was the sheer absurdity of the night or how uninhibited everyone seemed, but I found myself humming along. It was hard not to get swept up in the energy.

The mistletoe game picked up speed again as the song faded into the background. Gary spun the stick, and it landed squarely on Eddie. The room erupted into laughter, and Eddie stood up with an exaggerated flourish.

“Well, Gary,” Eddie teased, smirking as he stretched. “The boy just kissed his beautiful mom, and you’re complaining about kissing my Hershey highway? How about we invite your mom to this next Christmas party? Think she’d be up for the challenge?”

Gary groaned, his face going beet red as the group egged him on. “Alright, alright! Let’s get this over with,” he muttered.

Eddie spun on his heel and leaned forward dramatically, pointing to the very center of his posterior. “Right here, big guy. Show me what you’ve got! And remember, this is a no-peck zone. Put your heart into it.”

The room roared with laughter as Gary grudgingly leaned down and planted a quick but solid kiss. Eddie straightened with a mockingly dreamy sigh. “Gary, I felt the love. Next year, you and I are riding the same sleigh.” The group broke into cheers, and Gary retreated to his seat, muttering about needing another drink even though he just had two stiff tequila shots.

I noticed Eddie wasn’t doing full pours. It was more about just having the shot together than it was getting drunk—or maybe they were just pacing themselves.

The room erupted in laughter after the next spin landed on Evan, Donder’s boyfriend. Eddie, never missing a beat, held the mistletoe stick high, his grin as wide as ever. “Well, well, lover boy,” he teased. “Looks like you’ve got some holiday magic to spread.”

Evan hesitated, glancing nervously at Donder, who was still stuck in the naughty position. “Oh my,” he muttered, clearly unsure how to proceed.

Donder peeked up from the floor, her expression a mix of teasing and exasperation. “If my brother can do it, you can do it!” she declared, rolling her eyes for dramatic effect. “Now go on, Evan. Don’t embarrass me.”

Eddie swung the mistletoe stick like a scepter, tapping her playfully on the rear. “Three slaps, ass up!” he announced, his voice dripping with theatrical glee.

The group counted together as Evan dutifully delivered three light slaps, each one earning an exaggerated groan from Donder. “Happy now?” she grumbled, wiggling her hips for effect.

Evan let out this heavy sigh, his eyes darting nervously toward Harley like he was begging for backup. She gave him that easy smile of hers, tilting her head a little like she was letting him in on some secret. “Don’t stress it, Evan,” she said, her voice calm but just loud enough for me to catch. “Do whatever feels right. Nobody here’s gonna judge, and anyway, what happens here stays here.”

Evan nodded like he was convincing himself more than agreeing with my sister. He still looked jittery, but her words seemed to steady him just enough to step up. I felt a little bad for the guy – but then again, he was about to kiss my mom right in front of me and my father.

Mom stood with an inviting smile, her confidence radiating. “Relax, sweetie. It’s just a kiss. And trust me—it’s a good one.”

The group collectively “Ooohed!” as Evan stepped closer. His arms hesitated before finally wrapping gently around her. Mom leaned in, her lips meeting his with a slow, deliberate intensity.

The kiss lingered, deepening as she pressed into him. Her hand slid up to his shoulder, pulling him closer. Evan stiffened briefly before leaning into her touch, his initial nerves melting into the moment.

The room’s energy shifted, the teasing giving way to hoots and cheers. When they finally broke apart, Mom’s cheeks were flushed, her grin mischievous. “See? Not so bad, right?” Her tone was playful, but the gleam in her eye suggested she had committed more than expected.

Eddie raised the tequila bottle high, his voice booming. “Hold on! We can’t let that slide without a proper toast.”

Mom took a glass with a raised brow, her grin sly. “What are we toasting to, Eddie? My spectacular kissing skills?”

“To Christmas magic!” Eddie declared. “And to Evan for stepping up.”

The crowd erupted in a chorus of “Merry Christmas!” as glasses clinked together. Evan and Mom downed their shots, and the laughter resumed.

Mom tapped her lips thoughtfully, then pretended to fan herself with her hand. “Donder, you’ve got a keeper there,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “I’d wash his clothes on a rock by hand for another kiss like that.” She sank to the floor with exaggerated flair. “Ooh, I might need to sit down. That one got me.”

Donder huffed, pushing herself onto her knees, her sass fully intact. “Who kisses better, her or me, Evan?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes. “And think carefully—I’m not going to make it easy on you.”

Evan playfully threw his hands up in surrender. “I plead the fifth on the grounds it will get my butt kicked!”

Dad leaned back with mock exasperation, leveling a playful glare at Evan. “Hey now, you don’t see me kissing your girlfriend and trying to make her blush, do you?”

Mom immediately joined in with her trademark sass. “And on a night when I’m riding Eddie’s sleigh instead of yours, Steven,” she teased my father, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The room burst into laughter, and Daisy let out a low whistle of approval.

Eddie, never one to miss an opportunity, pointed the mistletoe stick at Daisy. “You get turned on so much during the day, they should call you Showerhead.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Daisy’s grin widened. She leaned forward with mock indignation. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t be out here chasing so much cock if you could keep me satisfied, Eddie!”

Eddie feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “That’s why I love you, sweetie. I love to watch you riding cocks. His exaggerated delivery sent another wave of laughter through the group. I couldn’t believe how graphic things were getting – others were smiling at the tawdry and open way my Aunt celebrated her sexuality and wasn’t ashamed of it.

Daisy wagged a finger at him. “I love you too, baby. That’ll be my Christmas present to you—watching me ride twice as much next year!”

Even as the laughter continued, my thoughts drifted. Harley had said earlier that she kissed Mom “plenty of times.” It stuck in my head, spiraling out in ways I wasn’t ready for. Would she feel the same way about kissing Dad if the game demanded it? And what about me?

The kiss with Mom had been... something. Terrifying and exhilarating all at once. It was my first kiss, and despite the absurdity of the situation, it lingered in my mind like a spark I couldn’t quite put out.

I shook myself back to reality as Eddie twirled the mistletoe stick dramatically, his grin promising more chaos. “Alright, people, time to see who’s next on the naughty list!”

The next spin of the tequila bottle, the mistletoe stick teased its next victim. Slowly, painfully, it slowed… and stopped squarely on Evan. The room fell silent, everyone turning to him with raised eyebrows and barely contained grins.

“Oh my,” Evan said, his eyes darting nervously to my naked sister, still stuck in nose down, tits to the floor, ass up, legs spread. Donder’s palms stayed flat against the floor. My sister’s fingers splayed wide in what looked like a deliberate effort to ground herself. Her nose resting the polished wooden planks of my family’s living room, where she played as a little girl. I couldn’t fully understand why my sister’s expression was a mix of exasperation and faint amusement.

She blinked once, slow and deliberate as if brushing off the awkwardness of her boyfriend kissing her mother. Her lips curved upward—not quite a grin, but a subtle, resigned smirk that acknowledged this is just how Reindeer games are played. She adjusted her knees slightly, her body still fully exposed, legs apart. It was like she was leaning into the humiliation, not because she enjoyed it but because it was required in the naughty position.

The way the girls did it round-robin, so there was always a rule-breaking girl in trouble was kind of clever – but only if you expected someone to always break the rules.

I’d have been completely beside myself, and probably have an impossible boner as well.

I noticed my mom’s look of satisfaction, hard nipples, and glistening wet pussy as she sat flat on her butt next to me after leaving Evan’s tight embrace. I wondered if she was ashamed of how obviously she was aroused – it didn’t look it on my mother’s face. She seemed hungry – ready to kiss again.

I would come to learn that this entire game was just the tease – meant to create sparks and get people hornier. The mistletoe was already moving, the room buzzing with excitement for whatever spectacle would come next.

Daisy practically leapt to her feet when the mistletoe stopped on her and Mrs. Sanderson, her grin wide and unrestrained. Flipping her hair back with an exaggerated flourish, she announced, “Finally! Someone who knows how to deliver under the mistletoe.”

One of the men shouted, “Under the Cameltoe!” and my Aunt proudly exclaimed that she would drink to that!

Mrs. Sanderson, blushing furiously, rose from her spot with a nervous laugh. “Go easy on me, Daisy. I’m not sure I can keep up with that energy.”

Daisy smirked and wagged a finger. “No promises, sweetheart.” She stepped in close, grabbing Mrs. Sanderson in a theatrical embrace. The kiss started slow, light, almost teasing, but quickly deepened into something unrestrained and sultry. The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles, their enthusiasm rising as the kiss lingered longer than anyone expected.

Finally, Daisy broke away with a dramatic bow, turning to the group with a wink. “And that, my friends, is how you spread holiday cheer and make a pussy wet!”

Audaciously, my Aunt reached down between Blitzen’s pussy lips, fingered her right in front of us, without asking, and Blitzen stood there blushing, smiling softly while she let her sister get her turned on in front of the rest of us. Cupid withdrew her finger from Blitzen’s cunt like it was a tub of ice cream and licked it like it was delicious. “Just want to make you a little hotter, so you’ll kiss me like you need me!”


Comet blushed a deep crimson, waving her hands as if to stop the momentum. “Alright, it’s done now, I am wet – your wet, let’s kiss!” she sighed.

Mom’s radiant smile twitched for half a second, like she wasn’t sure how far to go with this in front of me. If I weren’t here, she probably would’ve bragged about whatever wild thing they were hinting at. Instead, she glanced my way, and then stayed quiet. She didn’t look ashamed—just holding back, which honestly made me even more curious.

The crowd erupted with a chorus of salacious “OOOHs,” their laughter filling the room.

I shifted uncomfortably, my eyes darting to my mom. Her usually confident demeanor cracked for just a moment, her lips twitching as if debating whether to respond. Was Eddie trying to embarrass her, or was this just about delivering some salacious entertainment for everyone at the party? Sisters kissing – always been a fantasy of mine, but now that it was my mother and aunt, I wasn’t so sure I should be watching this and rooting for it.

Cupid stepped closer, tilting her head with a mischievous grin. “Oh, hon, look at those pretty blue eyes. You know you love yourself so much you’d kiss your own face if you could. Let’s just do it so these pervs can have their show. It’ll be just like high school.”

They were prolonging this – making us wait to see the show.

From the floor, Donder craned her neck up from the naughty position. “Wait, what happened in high school? What’s the story?” she blurted, eyes wide like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Your daughter wants to know why you made out with my wife back in high school, Comet! I order you to tell everyone here your dirty little secrets and remember—Santa will know if you’re lying. Total honesty!"

Comet sighed heavily, a faint smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth despite her flushed cheeks. “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Daisy and I were hot shit, Cheerleaders, Band majorettes, Beauty Pageant queens, okay? We liked boys, we liked sex, we LOVED attention, we knew we had power with our bodies, and we could get away with scandalous behavior back in our little town—shock our prudish girlfriends, turn on the boys we liked. Sometimes, we’d make out with each other’s boyfriends to see if they could tell the difference. And yeah,” she added, meeting Daisy’s gaze across the room, “we made out a few times just to mess with people,” My mom admitted to howls of approval from the others, blushing, not looking down at me.

My mom didn’t really believe in Santa, did she? Yet, she confessed to getting down with her sister to a room full of laughing friends and party guests. Wow! I wasn’t sure why my mother felt the need to get so explicit and go into detail – but it seemed like Eddie wanted to hear more!

"Is that all? Come on, I’d expect more from you two deviant Southern nymphos. Cupid, you got anything else to confess to your niece and these fine DSL ladies?" Eddie held the Mistletoe stick like a Samurai warrior would hold a two-handed Katana across my Aunt’s Butt, suggesting he might smack her with it.

“Sorry Nick, if we haven’t scared you off from ever coming back to our parties, you’ll discover that your Mom and I love sex, and come to think of it, Comet may have been MY first kiss, too. We’ve eaten each other’s peaches, and you’ll probably see us doing it again later,” My Aunt was clearly amused when she bragged about her taboo behavior, but my Mom blushed and didn’t even look in my direction.

“This isn’t 20 questions and truth or dare; it’s Kissing roulette. Let’s just get this over with,” My Mom said. Eddie made them stand nipple-to-nipple.

They both balked that he hadn’t made the others do that. “yeah, but I am your rider and your husband, and we all want to see you stand titty to titty!” Eddie replied. “Now open your mouths and kiss so we can all see it.”

It was a dick-hardening and intense kiss – something I’d never seen and may never see again.

The excitement reached a crescendo when the mistletoe landed on Cupid and Comet. The room went silent for a moment before breaking into chants of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

The kiss started slow but quickly built into something deeper and more passionate, earning whistles and cheers from the crowd. Daisy and my mom held their mouths open, and tongue wrestled for an exaggerated ten seconds before leaning in and locking lips, to kiss passionately.

My Dad instructed them to keep their mouths open and touch tongues, and keep their hands flat at their sides, and they both did it. The audience of men and women howled in delight -at what seemed like an incredibly humiliating kiss. “I want you to put some feeling into it and do it right, Comet,” Dad made it clear this was payback for teasing him about his initial mediocre kiss of my backside.

My mother and aunt had a hard time keeping straight faces and avoided eye contact. Spit began to gather on the lips and drip down in a long strand.



“Just like your wet cunts,” Dad said wickedly. I was shocked by how vulgar my father’s words were, but more so that my aunt and mother took them. They both shifted uncomfortably as if they were being evaluated and found lacking.

“Steven, c’mon!!” Mom pleaded with my Dad to give her permission to close her mouth and stop kissing, but the more she did, the more my father seemed to enjoy extending the time she had to humiliate herself in front of the others. Tittering laughter -mostly from other girls who found the circumstances delicious made it feel less like torture and more like naughty teasing. Honestly, I could see my Mom and Aunt’s pussies were glistening and dripping almost as much as the spit on their open mouths for the next few minutes that they held the pose.

It was intriguing that they were singled out and made to do this – what would have happened if my Dad chose to tell ME to freeze during my kiss with my Mom? People would have probably noticed how hard I got and laughed at me the same way.

Once he finally gave Comet and Cupid permission to finish the kiss by pressing their lips together and giving each other a proper French kiss, they bowed dramatically. “And that, my friends, is how you spread holiday cheer,” my Aunt blushed almost as much by the end as my mother did.

Comet waved her hands dismissively. “I think I would have preferred kissing your butt,” she joked, blushing fiercely, wiping her mouth with her arm.

Cupid turned around, standing almost right over me, spread her ass cheeks, and begged for Comet to come and kiss her right on her southern ass.

Comet laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact with anyone and obviously ignoring my Aunt’s offer. “Alright, you’ve had your show. Let’s take a pussy wipe break before my sister creams an entire puddle of eggnog on the floor.”

Eddie agreed, “Oh yeah, I think you are both probably wetter than Flipper right now,” Cupid grinned.

The first game of the night had wrapped up, and my mind was blown. If this had been the only game we were going to play, I would have been happy. It sounded like we were just getting started. A few of the men stood around the bar area, taking tequila shots and laughing, while the others relaxed on the couches with their assigned reindeer perched beside them. Each "reindeer" was now paired according to the rules, all except Blitzen—riders and reindeer sticking together like partners in crime.

Mrs. Sanderson (Blitzen) glanced over her shoulder at me from where she sat on the floor. Her hands fidgeted like she was waiting for some kind of signal to kneel by my foot again. She looked shy but hopeful, and for some reason, which made my heart race—a weird mix of flattery and nerves. I had no idea what to make of it, but I couldn’t deny there was something kind of sweet about how hesitant she seemed.

Before I could figure out what to do, Aunt Cupid’s voice rang out from across the room, loud and unapologetically Southern. “Nick, can you help me with something really quick?” she hollered. Her timing couldn’t have been worse.

I turned, still trying to process, when Mom’s voice cut through the chatter. “My son doesn’t need to help you wipe the cream off your thing-a-ling… oh, dang it!” She froze mid-sentence, realizing her mistake. “Naughty position!” she groaned, throwing her hands up in exaggerated frustration. She’d broken the house rule about saying son, and she knew it.

The whole room exploded into laughter. Mom gave me a mock glare, wagging her finger in my direction as she started toward the center of the room. “I wouldn’t be getting dinged like this if you weren’t here, Nick. You’re going to owe me when this is over.” She was trying to sound stern, but the little giggle that slipped out betrayed her.

She sighed and turned around, walking over to Eddie. With an exaggerated shift of her hips, she leaned forward just enough to get the spanking over quickly. I didn’t want to leave the living room. I wanted to keep talking to Blitzen, and I’ll be honest – I liked watching my mom get spanked. It made her seem less intimidating.

Harley didn’t miss a beat. “Great timing, Mom! DANG IT!” she teased, throwing her hands up in perfect imitation of Mom’s dramatic reaction because she was out of the naughty corner – that is until she said the word “Mom” – so she was back in.

Eddie was practically vibrating with excitement. “Double butt slaps!” he declared that both girls would still be spanked, and my sister would remain in the corner. He didn’t hold back as the sharp crack of his paddle echoed through the room.

Meanwhile, Harley had her own moment of reckoning. Her swap had paired her with Marty, a man close to her dad’s age. While his demeanor was kind and his smile genuine, his hand carried a surprising amount of firmness. When Marty stepped up to deliver the playful but obligatory slap, Harley let out a startled squeak before scrambling back to her seat, her face as red as her sweater.

“Nice one, Marty!” Eddie cheered, doubling over in laughter. “You’ve got good form. Been practicing?”

Harley shot him a withering look, but even she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “Y’all are monsters. I swear. Monsters!” she grumbled, loud enough to earn another round of laughs.

Before I could watch what happened next, my Aunt led me out of the room. “C’mon, sugar. You’ll be bored of all the ass-slapping Shenigans by midnight. Kitchen. Now,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. I let her drag me away, weaving through the crowd toward the cooler, quieter kitchen.

Just as we reached the doorway, a roar of laughter erupted from the living room, cutting through the relative calm of the kitchen. I glanced back, curiosity gnawing at me, but Cupid tugged me forward, her grip firm.

My aunt caught me glancing back toward the living room and waved me into the kitchen. "Don’t worry; there’ll be plenty of pink butts before the night’s over. It’s early yet, and that cute neighbor of yours, Mrs. Jones, will still be around."

"Mrs. Sanderson," I corrected, giving her a look.

"No, like the song—Me and Mrs. Jones," she said, half-singing it like I should know it. I just stared at her. She snickered and grabbed some paper towels. "It’s from that movie where the guy says, ‘I’ve got one word for you, son—plastics.’ You know that one, right?"

I shook my head. "Not a clue, never heard of it.”

She rolled her eyes, moving quickly across the room, much faster than my mom ever did. “I keep forgetting that you’re wetter behind the ears than my cunt is right now. You act older than you are. That was a song about a younger guy, about your age, getting with a woman her age.” She paused and raised an eyebrow, looking pleased with herself. “Anyway, yes, put your eyeballs back in your head. I need to polish up my happy button.”

My Aunt was so crude and vulgar – but it turned me on. I stood there, stunned, as she pointed to my crotch, clearly noticing my hard-on in my jeans. “I’m not the only one who got excited out there.”

I blushed hard, stumbling for words. “I… uh… wasn’t…” My voice trailed off as I tried to keep my eyes focused anywhere but on her.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. If you didn’t get horny, I’d worry,” she said, waving it off as if it were no big deal. “Listen, loosen up. Stop frowning constantly. I wanted to check on you—you’re so tense, Nick.” She wiped her pussy with a paper towel next, her movements unapologetic and casual. “It gets sweaty and wet, Nick!” she added matter-of-factly. “Are you freaking out? Worried you came here? Overwhelmed? Tell me how you’re feeling. Don’t mind me – I am not playing, we aren’t allowed, but even if I did – you wouldn’t tell your Uncle Eddie or Dad, would you?”

“Playing with yourself?” I blushed.

“Yeah, it’s a reindeer thing, we can only finger ourselves with permission. Listen, don’t worry about it,” my Aunt closed the can of worms she had opened as if it was no big deal. “What do you think about our party?”

I took a deep breath, my words stumbling out as I tried to organize my thoughts. “It’s… I mean, I don’t even know what to make of this yet. It’s—” I paused, glancing at her, unsure if I should even say what I was thinking. “Is this, like, normal? For you, I mean. Is this just a… thing people do?” My voice wavered for a moment before I steadied it. “Because for me, this feels like stepping into a whole different world.”

"Normal is a setting on a washing machine, baby," my aunt said, biting into a Christmas pear, the juice dripping down her chin as she savored it. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she leaned against the counter. "It’s not normal for most people to stand like this in front of their nephew, sure, but who decides what normal is? Why is it so important to you to BE normal?"

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious expression. "Is there a normal crossing guard somewhere who’s gonna write you up for being weird?" She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Your mom and me? We’ve been weird since before we could grow pubes or bleed. And you know what? It’s worked out just fine for us."

"Want a pear? These are so buttery," my aunt offered, holding up the half-eaten fruit. "When I do naughty stuff, I get hongry!" She grinned, the word exaggerated for emphasis as she took another indulgent bite. "I can’t imagine what my boys, Kyler and Austin, would be doing at a party like this. They’re a little younger than you. Honestly, I don’t think they’d show half your restraint."

I gave her a confused look, unsure of where this was going.

She smirked, leaning in just slightly. "I mean, when your mom was on all fours, you didn’t even try to slide your head back slyly for a look. I was shocked that my Aunt would ask me if my mother’s nudity turned me on – and specifically when she was in one of the most exposed positions. How was I supposed to answer that?

"Gross. Why would I?" The words escaped my mouth before I could think, my face heating up. All I could focus on was the thought that that was where her pussy and ass was located.

My aunt threw her head back and laughed, clearly delighted by my reaction. "Baby, because you’re a man! That’s why! But I guess you’ve got more self-control than most." She wiped a tear from her eye, still grinning. "Or maybe you’re just terrified, huh? Either way, your mama would be proud."

“My boys would be pulling apart butt cheeks and making farty-sounds, telling us to squat the entire time, slapping teas, probably whipping it out and whacking off. It won’t be long before they’re the age that we should bring them, but I can understand why your mom didn’t want you to come,” she said, shaking her head with a smirk. “You’ve got restraint, Nick. That’s rare around here. Most guys your age would’ve been trying to peek at every open set of flaps in the room.”

I raised an eyebrow, her bluntness catching me off guard, though by now I should’ve been used to it. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or flattered that you think I’ve got more self-control than your boys,” I said, crossing my arms. “But, honestly? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. It’s not like there’s a rulebook for... whatever this game is.”

I glanced down for a second, unsure of how to phrase it without sounding clueless. “Is this just... how things are at these parties? Like, is there a line I’m supposed to avoid crossing, or is the whole point that there isn’t one?” I could feel my face flush, but I kept my tone steady, genuinely wanting to understand. “Because right now, I feel like I’m just tiptoeing around everything.”

"We've only got a few minutes before the next game, and it's a doozy," My Aunt warned, leaning casually against the counter. "That’s why I pulled you in here—to check on you. Are you staying because you’re having fun, or are you just afraid of looking bad if you leave? No one wants you here if you’re nervous or walking on eggshells. This is supposed to be a party, Nick." Her tone was firm but not unkind.

She glanced toward the living room and smirked. “There are rules to keep this from turning into a free-for-all, but most of those are for us ladies, not you. Eddie might be loud and obnoxious, but he’ll steer you right if you stick to the rules. And hey, if you want something to eat or drink, just ask Mrs. Jones down there, and she’ll hop up and skippidee-bee-bop to get it for you. If she won’t, tell me, or one of the other DSL, and we’ll handle it."

I frowned, confused. "Why would she do that? She’s not my reindeer."

It felt surreal to call a woman my mother’s age ‘my reindeer’ or ‘anyone’s reindeer’ for that matter, btu that was the term. My Aunt understood what I meant perfectly.

Cupid laughed. "Trust me, she’ll do it. And if she gives you any attitude; just tell her to get in one of the open corners in the room. You can spank her butt or make her squat if that’s your think. None of us really like squatting.”

My eyes widened. “Wait, I can say that? Why would I do make you do something you don’t like?”

“I am sure you figured it out by now, Nick. You think I liked apologizing to you in front of everybody out there?” My aunt frowned and reminded me of how she had to apologize over the pig in a blanket she fed me like a little dick.

“No?”

“Hell yes, I did!” My Aunt smiled excitedly – surprising me with her reaction. “One night a year, we play this little game, the men get to humiliate us, boss us around, tease us, take us down a peg. I was thrilled because you were so shocked that I’d bow and scrape down. It’s a huge turn on,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Not, every girl came here wanting to be punished, but every girl came here knowing they were going to be punished by one of you – and came here to cum, for one reason or another.”

"Wait a minute, Cupid. I can punish you… or my sister… or my neighbor?”

I got the impression that my Aunt connected an orgasm with being punished and had just implied I could punish her! My mind was completely blown.

Cupid rolled her eyes. “First of all, if the shoe was on the other foot tonight, I’d punish you for calling me ‘Aunt Cupid.’ That sounds ridiculous. Just call me Cupid. And yeah, men rule tonight—that’s how this works. It’s not really punishment – but yes, if we deserve it. You can’t do it just to be an ass. The other guys will make sure. We’ve had our share of power-mad assholes. It’s a couple of hard slaps on the ass and maybe some time in the corner or nose to the floor. No big deal – we are all good sports.”

“Were you being punished when Uncle Eddie made you stick your tongue out and hold it next to my mom’s tongue?” I asked pointedly.

My Aunt gave me a churlish grin as she considered her response. “It’s not as black and white and cut and dried as you want to make it, Nick. Yes, it’s considered a punishment, and Eddie and your Dad had a right to make both of us do that during the game, but it was also fun and exciting. We’ve held that kiss before, but not quite that long. I probably had spit running all over my titties by the end of it. How did it look?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that, she was my aunt, after all, and I didn’t want to seem perverted by telling her that I had an incredible boner.

“I was hoping to hear that it was hot, but it probably looked like two old grannies tongue wrestling with their spit dribbling all over their fake titties Haha, either way – we got a lot of laughs, and it was no big deal.”

“You weren’t being punished for anything you did wrong, though. Why even follow rules if you can be punished at random?” I asked.

“You are giving this way more thought than you should. If you ask Eddie, it’s probably because he delights in getting one over on me now and them, but if you ask some of the guys, they’ll say it’s because we were born with twats, and it’s Twatmas – the night of the Comeuppance.”

“What?” I asked incredulously.

“It’s a whole backstory that your mother invented when we first started these games years ago. You’d have to ask her. I just play for fun, and the rest of the year, if Eddie TOLD me to kiss your mom, I’d ask him what he was going to BUY me to see it. I certainly wouldn’t humiliate myself in the process while his friends laughed.”

“But you seem like you like to be embarrassed?” I countered.

“Yeah, here at the party – heap it on, but any other night, no. I understand your question, but like I said – the kiss was the luck of the bottle and probably the strategic use of Eddie’s foot to make sure it happened to stop where it did,” she winked, “and the guys can technically order any of the riders to finger their asses, cunts, kiss, little stuff like that – blowjobs and above have different rules.”

“They can order you to put a finger in your butt?” my eyes shot open in surprise.

My aunt’s response was to turn around, pull her tight ass cheeks apart far enough to reveal her butthole, and slide one finger in so that I could see. “I am supposed to be out there lubing this hole up right now. If you were in the living room, you’d be watching ALL the girls rubbing Vaseline down their backsides and pussies. Do you think it’s going to freak me out to have a pinky up my poop chute? As I said, it’s not a big deal – at least not to me,” my aunt plucked her finger out, sniffed it, made a face, and wiped it on a napkin.

“What about the girl currently in the naughty corner?” I asked. “Is that a big deal?”

Cupid sighed, giving me a look. “This is your big question? You’ve got me for a few minutes, and this is what you’re asking about?” She shook her head but smiled. “The naughty corner is just for breaking the party rules. If someone does something that really gets on your nerves, you can put them in another corner if you want, but the naughty corner is a rulebreaker’s spot. Honestly, I wish we had this stuff written down for you. They added the naughty corner one year, so if one girl breaks the rules, we just rotate in and out. There will be a girl in the corner or kneeling nose to the floor all night.”

“Wait… so, what’s the point of following rules if you can get in trouble no matter what?”

My Aunt Daisy regarded me with sympathy because I just wasn’t getting it. “This isn’t a lifestyle; we don’t live this way 24/7, Nick. it’s a game, and we’re the dunces and jesters. The rules are rigged so that we lose, but it’s still fun to play. I wish I had time to get into all of that with you. My point was really if you want something to drink or eat, or you want Blitzen to kneel or squat, just tell her. She’s a big girl, and she knows how the game is played. She’ll do it.”

“Why would I want to make Blitzen kneel or squat? It seems uncomfortable.”

Cupid smirked. “Yeah, kneeling is easy. It just means, ‘Hey, pay attention.’ Otherwise, we sit how we want. Squatting’s a little tougher. It’s hard to hold and more embarrassing, but if you wanted, say, Blitzen to squat during the next game, just tell her and see what she does.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to be mean, Cupid.”

“Hey, look at you, learning to use my reindeer name.” She smiled warmly. “It’s not mean—it’s playful mean. There’s a difference. Have fun with it, sweetheart. Think of it like a Christmas gift to the guys. You’re here without a reindeer of your own, and we had an extra you could play with. She’s your mom’s friend, and she’s bored. Make her feel welcome.”

I paused, trying to process everything. “What’s DSL?”

Cupid threw her hands up, laughing. “Lord have mercy, you thought it was a charity group. I’m not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. You can ask your mom tomorrow. Now, real questions, Nick. What do you actually want to know? We are out of time and it’s Pin the Tail on the Reindeer- you’ll like that one.”

My Aunt made it clear I had to ask what was most pressing. I wasn’t sure where to begin because I had so many questions!

I hesitated, brow furrowing. “If it’s all just for fun, why do the rules seem so strict for the women? I mean, it feels like a double standard. I can say ‘Aunt Cupid’ without ending up in the corner, but the women have all these extra rules.”

My Aunt paused mid-bite on her pear, tilting her head at me. Her eyes sparkled with that mischievous southern charm as she leaned against the counter. “Oh, sugar, that’s easy—it’s because it’s funny. Trust me, sweetheart.” She reached out, tapping my chin with her fingers. “If the shoe were on the other foot, and I saw a softie like you in charge, especially…” She grinned wide. “Oh honey, you’d be leapfrogging around the room, spinning your pecker in circles, while your Aunt Daisy laughed her tits off. And oh yes, I’d get your Uncle Eddie’s clown nose from that rusty van of his, paint you up like Bozo, and slap a dunce cap on your head.”

I couldn’t tell if I was mortified or amused. “How would being ridiculed be fun for me?”

She threw her head back, cackling. “Well, if you like being laughed at by a room full of bitchy ladies, it’s more fun than a frog in a glass of eggnog!”

I blinked at her, trying to figure out if she was serious. My thoughts drifted for a second, wondering how she and Mom both grew up in the same place but ended up so different. Mom would never say things like that.

“But” Cupid continued, her tone softening, “if you did it for me, because I thought it was funny, that’d mean you sacrificed a little dignity for my amusement. And baby, the boys in that room? Just like my boys Kyler and Austin? They love to tease us on holidays like this. So, we play. We let loose and let them knock us down a peg or two.”

I tilted my head. “So… they just like to knock you down a peg?”

She grinned, unabashed. “Honey, sometimes it’s necessary. Let me tell you something—your mom and me? We’re narcissistic, ego-driven, good-looking women. A lot of men find us attractive, and that really gets to our heads. So, yeah, every now and again, we need a little press to reset my bitch button. It’s right there on top of my happy button,” My Aunt flipped up her clitoral hood and exposed the deep recesses of her pussy to me. I have to admit, it looked a little slippery like Grape Laffy Taffy. “At least, that’s why I play. I need a little kick in the butt sometimes, so my ego doesn’t make me insufferable to everyone around me when people promise me trips and cars to leave Eddie. Don’t you dare tell your Uncle Eddie that, or he’d make me do this every day.”

I frowned, the phrase “make me do this” catching me off guard.

She noticed and sighed. “No one’s twisting my arm behind my back, sugar. It’s just a phrase. Relax.”

I nodded slowly, still turning it over in my head. “Okay, I sort of get why the rules are in place, but… earlier, I heard you call the girls ‘Tea.’ Isn’t that kind of… derogatory?”

My Aunt smirked, taking another bite of her pear. “Derogatory? Baby, it’s anything but. ‘Tea’ is a term of endearment in this crowd, a little naughty wordplay for the holidays. You’ve heard ‘twas the night before Christmas,’ right? Well, we took the rhyme and made it ours. It’s cheeky, playful, and honestly? We love it.”

She pointed at her tea, completely unapologetic. “See this? That’s a tea. Every lady out there was born with one. It is what it is. ‘Slits with tits’ is another phrase, but we prefer ‘Twat’ because tonight, it reinforces that y’all are the bosses.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So… if I called you ‘Twat’ tomorrow, it’d still be supportive?”

Cupid laughed so hard she nearly choked on her pear. “Oh, sugar, you’d better not! Tomorrow, I’d squat right on your head, and you’d like what I do.” She wagged a finger at me, her grin playful. “It’s for the game, baby. Context is everything. Call me that at a family reunion, and we’ll be the ones dunking you in a glass of eggnog.”

Eddie’s voice boomed from the living room, cutting off my train of thought. “Cupid, get your fat little ass out here! We’re about to pin the tail on the reindeer, and if you’re not here in sixty seconds, you’re the reindeer, and I’m finding a thumbtack.”

Cupid rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re missing lube time!” Eddie added. “If you don’t like it, tough tea!”

My Aunt grabbed my arm, hustling me back toward the noise. I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Sanderson, her eyes flicking toward me and softening with something I could only guess was relief. Or maybe I was imagining it. Either way, my chest tightened as we crossed the threshold back into the chaos.

“Alright, Eddie, my Master, My King, My Lord, My Savior, My Small Dong Warrior,” Cupid called out dramatically, hopping into the circle. “What game are we playing tonight?”

Eddie grinned wickedly, spinning the tequila bottle with a flourish as Dancer stood with her palms flat against the wall, ass sticking out, legs spread, ready to be the first contestant in the next game of the evening.

“You were late, Cupid,” Eddie said, spinning the mistletoe stick in his hand with mock impatience. “Probably in there fingering your clit?” He turned to me and asked if I gave her permission to finger herself.

“No!”

“So, were you playing with yourself without permission?” Eddie immediately accused her.

Cupid froze mid-step, her mouth slightly open as if to say something, but then she snapped it shut, shook her head, and crossed her arms. “Eddie, baby,” she finally drawled, her tone dripping with exaggerated Southern charm, “I swear on a stack of Bibles, if I was going to finger myself, I’d beg my Rider to let me play right out here – because I love an audience.”

Eddie smirked and turned to me. “You have to watch these twats like a hawk. They will try to pull one over on you if you give them an inch.”

Cupid rolled her eyes dramatically, placing a hand on her hip. “Oh, please. You’ll definitely give me two inches, and Steven here has a respectable five and a half,” she teased, saying that if the two men combined their dicks she might be satisfied.

“Well,” Eddie said, twirling the stick for emphasis and ignoring the barb, “you missed lube time, so if you don’t have any, too bad, so sad, tough titty.”

Cupid let out a long laugh before leaning in with a wicked grin. “Honey, I’ve never needed any lube with you, any hole, any time; bring it on when you can get it up. You just slide right in.”

I loved how sexually adventurous my Aunt could be – like she was down to fuck at any time.

The room erupted in laughter, “Alright, you bested me, woman. Go on and enjoy your moment while I plot my comeback,” Eddie said, mock-defeated but grinning.

“I love you, Eddie,” Cupid replied, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

“I love you too, Dick bag!” Eddie quipped back, his grin widening.

“Awww, be still my beating heart! I am all aflutter,” Daisy chimed in, fanning herself theatrically over the comparison to something created expressly to hold cocks.

Eddie rolled his eyes with exaggerated flair. “Well done. Still no lube for you, except what your pussy will make naturally, Twat,” he said with mock indifference.

Eddie was insistent that my aunt wouldn’t get any “lube,” and from the grins on the other girls’ faces, that didn’t sound good for her. Either she didn’t care, or she didn’t think he was serious.

“No one’s going to sit here and let you milk yourself like the cow you are to get wet! You should’ve shown up greased up like the other reindeer. Now, if there are no questions, get into two lines—single file. Men on this side, reindeer on the other. As a reindeer gets pinned or works through all eight men, she moves to the winner’s circle—or the loser’s pit.”

Eddie made it clear that "winning" meant getting pinned, while "losing" meant squatting off to the side with no attention at all.

“It’s Candy Cane time! Let the games begin!”

Evan raised his hand, looking genuinely confused. “So… do we all go for the same girl, or is it one guy, one girl, and they’re done?”

Eddie smirked and cocked his head. “What do you think, Evan? Do these look like the kind of wanton trollops that would let an entire line of men have a go at them before they’re satisfied?”

The guys lined up, and I slipped to the back of the line, unsure how to play. I figured I’d watch and figure it out by the time it was my turn. “Uptown Funk” was blasting through the speakers, and the beat had everyone moving. The reindeer swayed and laughed in their line, their energy electric. Blitzen had taken a spot at the back, too, probably for the same reason I did—trying to stay low-key while figuring things out.

Evan’s awkward silence answered that question, and Eddie clapped his hands. “if the reindeer makes it past eight tries, she heads to the loser’s circle and can’t play in the next game. That’s the rule. I don’t make ‘em up! Oh wait, I did make that one up!” Eddie laughed. “Alright! Reindeer games – eight guys have a chance to pin the tail on the reindeer. If she gets tailed, she’s done – and waits in the winner’s circle, shaking what’s got. She’ll wait off to the side, fat reindeer ass sticking out, holding her knees like the good little reindeer slut she is -proud of what hole she got pinned.”

I started to get a hard-on just thinking about how eager these women were to be pinned in a “hole.”

Dancer, who was next, made a sour face and stuck out her tongue at us when Eddie called out, “Fat reindeer ass.”

“If they don’t get pinned, shame on the party guests! They’ll be on consolation prize duty during the ring toss game that follows! Dancer, you’re up first!” Eddie announced, grinning. He applied a blindfold to her – but didn’t explain why. He faced her to the wall and made her touch her nose and tits to it.

It seemed like everyone except for Evan and me knew what was happening and why, and neither of us asked.

Dancer took her spot: initially, palms flat against the wall, nose to it, legs apart, and presenting her tea with an exaggerated wiggle. “Okay, Dancer reporting in to get my tail!”




Eddie, ever the showman, cranked up Kung Fu Fighting on the stereo, giving the whole scene a ridiculous, playful vibe. Everyone started singing along to the goofy lyrics, and I couldn’t help but laugh. It was silly, over the top, and somehow worked.

Jerry stepped up first, candy cane in hand, looking like he actually wanted to win. He was blindfolded and spun around several times before being let loose with his candy cane.

She had rope around her ass and tied to her wrist, but Jerry lifted it up – clearly and placed the candy cane on her butt – clearly indicating that’s where it was going to end up. Dancer didn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, I’d say she was downright flattered.



Evan and Harley weren’t the only couple here. I guessed that Dancer and Jerry were both married, probably to other people at this party. No one seemed jealous or uneasy about it. Instead, everyone was buzzing with excitement, cheering, and clapping to get the game underway!

Dancer glanced back over her shoulder, giving another exaggerated wiggle. “Come on, Jerry! I can’t present a bigger target than this!” she teased. She removed her hands from the wall and held her ass cheeks apart for him – showing us both holes spread wide.


The girls kept chanting. “Colder… colder… warmer… nope!” to help him find his way forward.

Jerry’s candy cane missed completely, clattering to the floor. He threw his hands up, groaning, as the room exploded with laughter.

Dancer let out a loud, fake sigh of relief. “Phew! You missed! Guess I don’t have to make an example of you!” she teased, grinning.

Next up was Gary. He stepped forward, his brows furrowed like he was about to solve a math problem. “Come on, Gary, you got this!” Daisy called out, her voice dripping with fake encouragement.

“You better hope he doesn’t!” Dancer shot back, smirking over her shoulder. “My tea isn’t taking another round tonight.”

Gary lined up his shot, taking it way too seriously. The candy cane smacked the wall just above Dancer’s head, and the whole room lost it. Dancer spun around dramatically, clutching her chest like she’d just dodged a bullet. “Warm, but still fail! Thank God. I owe you one, Gary!” She gave him a playful wink as he slinked back to the line.

I stayed at the back of the lineup—not because anyone told me to, but because it felt easier to let everyone else go first. From there, I found myself watching Mrs. Sanderson - casually. Smiling, grooving to the music, unaware that I was watching. Almost shy. Her big, doe-like eyes flicked toward me, just for a second, before darting away. She made no attempt to cover her nudity – somehow, I felt like a jerk for daring to look at her huge nipples. They weren’t FOR me – and yet I indulged myself and admired the slope, and wait, they stuck straight out – more so, I admired how bold she was for just standing there with everything hanging out.

I doubted that I wouldn’t have been self-conscious if the tables were turned, and I was naked in a room full of fully dressed women.
I had no idea what I was going to do when it was finally my turn. Watching the others wasn’t helping—they all laughed and teased, but no one was explaining a damn thing. And still, every time I glanced at Mrs. Sanderson, I felt the knot in my stomach twist a little tighter. Was she nervous? Flirty? The way her gaze lingered, even for a heartbeat, felt like a question I didn’t know how to answer.

Maybe it was the tequila I’d had earlier, but with each turn that passed, my confidence started creeping up.

Three people had already taken their turns, and now it was Evan’s turn to pin the candy cane on the reindeer—or whatever we were calling this outrageous game. It was basically a super kinky version of Pin the Tail on the Donkey, except both the pinner and the pinnee were blindfolded, and tequila was involved. I still wasn’t entirely sure if we were supposed to try and stick the candy cane in their butts or something. I was hoping someone else would figure it out before I got to the front of the line.

I couldn’t imagine pitching this idea to some girls for the first time. “You’ll stand naked, and we’ll try to shove a candy cane up your butt while you are blindfolded…sound good? Why are you leaving.”

a reindeer got pinned, they were out, and nobody else got a try—but they ‘won.’ I wasn’t sure how having a candy cane in the butt made them a winner, but everyone further back in line lost their chance. That alone added pressure. I was the last guy, so if they got past me, they ‘lost,’ and I was sure somehow that would be my fault, too.

The guys in front of me kept whispering and trying to throw Evan off, their voices just loud enough to carry over the noise. “Left… left… warmer… warmer!” they called out, their laughter obvious.

Meanwhile, the girls weren’t helping either, shouting just as loudly but giving conflicting instructions. “Right! No, higher—no, no, lower!” The chaotic mix of voices only added to the tension.

Dancer, blindfolded and grinning like this was her personal stage, wiggled her tea and teased over her shoulder, “C’mon, Evan, don’t listen to them. Trust your instincts! Or do you need me to make it easier for you?”

Evan, candy cane in hand, stepped forward, his movements cautious but determined. The room was practically buzzing with anticipation, the playful chaos making it impossible to tell if anyone actually wanted him to succeed—or fail miserably. The combination of conflicting advice and playful teasing was enough to make Evan hesitate, his grip tightening on the candy cane. He took a deep breath, adjusted his stance, and carefully leaned forward. The room held its collective breath as he made his attempt.

The Candy Cane – went straight into this woman’s pussy – she bucked her hips and slid back on it while it was still in her hands.

“Bullseye!” Dancer cried, spinning around with a grin. “Evan, you’re officially my favorite tonight. Harley’s gonna have to fight me for you.”

My sister was one of the ones laughing and applauding the hardest – like a good sport, genuinely happy that her friend was pinned, and her boyfriend had done the deed.

The room exploded with cheers and laughter as Evan’s face turned beet red. He stepped back, clutching the candy cane like it was some kind of trophy, looking half proud and half mortified.

Evan’s aim wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. The candy cane stuck just well enough for the group to declare it a solid “hit.” Dancer let out a delighted laugh, spun around, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Not bad for your first try!” she teased before sauntering over to the “pinned” lineup. She bent forward slightly, hands on her knees, her stance making it clear she was ready for whatever came next.

Harley stepped up next, full of her usual sass. “Alright, boys, time to try your luck,” she called over her shoulder, throwing in a playful wiggle. “Let’s see if anyone here can handle this!”

“Crap,” I muttered under my breath as the line moved forward. “Someone pin her before it’s my turn…”

One by one, the guys ahead of me missed, and each failed attempt was met with louder taunts from the girls and groans from the guys. Eddie couldn’t resist chiming in when it was his turn, dramatically yelling, “A swing and a miss, Uncle!” as his candy cane went wide.

Harley seemed almost too into the game, playful and open to being pinned. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My big sister—usually the one with a steady boyfriend all through high school—was acting like this was the most fun she’d had in ages. Watching her now, I couldn’t help but wonder how often she acted this way and whether Evan would even care—or get jealous.



She wasted no time spreading her legs wide, presenting a target without a shred of shame. Both holes were glistening with lube, and she wore a bemused, devil-may-care expression. My parents didn’t seem to disapprove—though I noticed my father wasn’t exactly staring in awe either. I tried to act like this wasn’t blowing my mind, but it was a losing battle.

My parents had clearly been part of this lifestyle for a long time, but Evan and Harley were still new to their relationship. I couldn’t even imagine how she’d convinced him to come to a party like this, let alone be okay with it. The whole situation felt impossible to wrap my head around.

I was eighth in line, and the way the rotation worked, every guy got one try against each reindeer unless someone pinned her first. If no one managed to pin the reindeer after all eight of us—Jerry, Gary, Marty, Evan, Harold, my dad, Eddie, and me—then she was out and lost. Win or lose, the next reindeer stepped up, but the rotation didn’t reset to the beginning. If someone pinned her before all eight attempts were used, the next girl came up, and the turn continued with the guy after the one who made the Pin. For example, if Evan pinned Harley, Harold would start on the next reindeer. Every guy got one shot per reindeer, keeping it “fair”—if you could call getting a candy cane shoved up your ass fair.

Dad stepped up next; Eddie spun him around several times, sheepish look on his face, candy cane in hand, his usual laid-back confidence masking what I could tell was a bit of nervousness.
My sister was already in position, blindfolded and waiting hands holding her ass cheeks apart nice and wide – I could see EVERYTHING.

“Last year, you were afraid to be pinned. Still afraid, pumpkin?” Dad teased; his tone playful but with a definite edge.

Harley shot back immediately with sass and confidence. “The name is Donder, and I’m going to be disappointed if you don’t pin me!” She wiggled her hips for emphasis, earning a round of laughter from everyone watching.

From the sidelines, Daisy chimed in with her own brand of encouragement. “Come on, Steven! That girl’s asshole is tight, teach her a lesson, she’s playing big-girl Reindeer games now!” It was both crass and degrading, but somehow, it still felt like she was being supportive of both of them.

I was shocked that my Mom was supportive, but all of the reindeer seemed to root for each other – even though most of them could also be catty and vindictive at times. “Don’t hold back, Steven! She’s been fully trained this year. She can take anything you can dish out! Any hole, any time!! She’s DSL material!”

All the women, including my sister and Mrs. Sanderson, pumped their fists or clapped and shouted, “DSL!”

Mom noticed me standing off to the side and shot me a quick, exasperated glance—like she’d just remembered I was there and realized what she’d said.

Dad lined up, spun once for effect, and took his shot. The candy cane missed entirely, smacking the wall with a hollow thud. The room erupted into laughter, and Dad gave a shrug like he didn’t care, though I could tell it stung a little.

Harley, ever the show woman, lifted her blindfold slightly and turned her head toward him with a grin. “Nice try,” she said, her voice warm despite the teasing. Then, leaning in, she planted a quick kiss on his lips before dropping the blindfold back into place. “Better luck next year, old man.”

“You better be full DSL by next year!” Dad patted her bottom and handed his blindfold to Eddie because my uncle was next before me in the rotation.

She leaned in closer, her voice low and teasing but excited “I never thought about being a real member!” She turned in my mother’s direction, still in her blindfold, and asked, “Would you train me? To be a full member?”

“Harley, DSL training isn’t just a fun little game—it’s a full commitment to prepare for the initiation. We all had to do it. I can’t just let you waltz in the club without that. It’s physically intense, mentally challenging, and, yes, sexually demanding. You’d be expected to go far beyond playful service at a party like this. Before you even think about starting, you’d need to have a long conversation with Evan. This is a commitment and it’s definitely not just one night of fun. If you’re serious about earning your DSL wings, you’ll have to prove you’re ready for everything that comes with it.”

“Wings? I thought we got DSL horns,” my aunt crowed. Instead of angel wings, she wanted devil horns. I still didn’t know what DSL stood for, but I was starting to get the idea it was some kind of sex club. I noticed Blitzen blushing – I wondered if she was considering joining it – or even a member.
The other girls were supportive, whooping, shaking their fists, and trying to welcome my sister into their club and encourage my Mom to consider supporting her for membership.

My Mom folded her arms, her tone softening as she spoke to Harley. “DSL isn’t something you jump into lightly,” she said as she glanced at me and back at Harley – perhaps signaling her discomfort with the conversation while I was present. “DSL is more than a club—it’s a sorority of sisters who count on each other, hold each other to high standards, and expect full commitment. And let’s not forget, your brother is here. Maybe we can enjoy the party now and talk about it later and get someone to stick a candy cane up your ass and another in your mouth, so you do less talking and more smiling?”

The guests laughed about that. Harley frowned but nodded. “Mom, we have to be totally honest at the party—that’s the rules. I think Nick has an idea of what DSL is about, and it’s not a charity anyway… but fine, we’ll talk later; someone shut me up,” she opened her mouth wide as if offering to let someone put a candy cane down her throat.

From the sidelines, Dancer snorted and added with a laugh, “We kind of ARE a charity; we do give it away.”

Prancer didn’t miss a beat, smirking as she chimed in. “Speak for yourself. I charge when I can. Get away with it!! Sell a little skin on the weekend,” the two girls high fived. I got the impression that she meant prostitution – my mind boggled.

Harley returned to her position, confident and ready for another attempt to pin a tail into her pussy and asshole. She presented herself to her uncle.

Eddie went up before me, and of course, he had to make a spectacle of it. Blindfolded and spun like a drunk at last call, he stumbled forward, gripping the candy cane like it was a weapon. The room erupted with shouted directions, most of them nonsense meant to throw him off. When he finally lunged, the candy cane smacked the wall a foot too high, bouncing off and landing with a hollow clatter. Eddie yanked off the blindfold and turned to the crowd with a smug grin. “Guess I overshot and missed the hole! We should paint a bullseye on your fat asses to make it easier!”

He slapped my sister’s ass. She remained in position and reminded him that he was blindfolded, so he couldn’t see it anyway.

“Doesn’t matter, sexy as hell to see a woman with a bullseye on her ass! For what it’s worth, and my opinion ain’t worth piss in the DSL; I think you would make a fine Dick Sucking Lady!”

There it was – what DSL really stood for. I had heard my aunt say that casually in the kitchen, but it was so outrageous that I wrote it off as something of a joke. No one corrected him, and the girls backed him up and applauded.


My Mom shot me a maternal glance, her eyes soft with a mix of concern and apology. It was the kind of look that said she knew I’d pieced together more than she ever intended me to and maybe more than she was ready for. For a moment, her confident facade slipped, replaced by something almost vulnerable, before she straightened her posture and turned her attention back to the game.

“You are up, Nick!! This is what you came here for, right?” She applauded as they encouraged me to step forward.

The candy cane wasn’t made of real candy at all. It was a latex dildo shaped like a candy cane – slathered with a jelly-like Vaseline that made it feel sticky – but also easier to slide in. There was a 32-ounce container labeled “Sex-Grease” to re-apply as needed by my sister’s feet.

My dad, Eddie, guys I’d never met before, the DSL ladies, even Blitzen—everyone seemed to pile on with words of encouragement. I could feel the weight of their eyes and the weight of every missed attempt, pressing down on me like a lead balloon. My confidence, already shaky, was starting to slip. Eddie tied the blindfold snugly around my head, the grin on his face practically radiating through the fabric. Then, with dramatic flair, he spun me around like I was the main event of the night.

George Thorogood’s gritty riff from Bad to the Bone blasted through the speakers, adding to the electric atmosphere. The crowd clapped and stomped along, shouting things like “Take your time, Nick!” and “You’ve got this!” The energy was infectious, but the pressure was suffocating.

Notably absent was Evan’s voice, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought about his girlfriend’s little brother stepping up to pin her. He probably thought we were one deeply perverted family.

Harley, never one to let a moment go by without adding her signature sass, called out with a teasing edge in her voice. “Come on, Nick, aim like a man! You had your first kiss with Mom; this counts as losing your virginity to your sister!”

“Hey!” Comet shot back, barely able to contain her hysterical laughter. I could picture her covering her mouth, trying (and failing) to stifle the chuckles. The crowd erupted, their laughter echoing through the room, and it was painfully obvious they were laughing at me, not with me.

Bad to the Bone
Bad to the Bone
B-b-b-b-b-b-b-bad
B-b-b-b-b-b-b-bad

The group laughed and sang along. I borrowed some of George’s swagger and approached this like the man that my sister said I should be.

I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down. “At least if I pin you, Harley, I won’t have to make up some story about who broke you in for the DSL.”

“Oh, snap!!!” I heard one of the reindeer say, and a wave of excitement fell over the crowd. I must have said something right because my sister had no come back. “Nothing to say, Harley? I mean Donder. I guess I don’t have to stick this dildo in your mouth to shut you up!!”

“It’s a candy cane,” one of the girls corrected. “We love candy in the DSL!!”

I tried to get my bearings. The blindfold wasn’t helping, and the spinning had me completely disoriented.

“Do you even know where a pussy is?” my sister chimed in, shaking her rump triumphantly as if to remind me. “You better not try to stick it in my asshole! I don’t know you well enough for that,” she goofed on me.

The crowd (sans Evan) chanted, “Pin Donder’s Asshole! Pin Donder’s Asshole!”

“Either way, he’s never going to do it,” my sister predicted, and sadly, she was right. My first attempt slid through her legs and hit the wall with a thud.

“Damn, were you trying to rip me in half?” Harley playfully removed her blindfold and gave me a quick kiss on my lips – never in the 18 years I had known this girl had she done that to me before. It was always on the cheeks. I removed my blindfold and hugged her awkwardly. Her boobs pressed against my shirt.

“No hard feelings, little bro! It was your first time; good effort, maybe next year?” she looked in my Mom’s direction, but my Mom said nothing – flat expression.

I realized the implication of what Harley meant. In ONE year, if I were able to come to the party, I’d be able to do these again with my sister. I wasn’t sexually attracted to my sister, but I have to admit – I kind of wanted to shove the dildo in her pussy or ass just to get one over on her. She had goaded me in a way that made me want to do it.

That seemed to be the goal of the teasing and trash-talking – not to hurt the men’s feelings, but to make us feel less guilty about “pinning the tail” and enjoy it.

As the next guy stepped up, Harley’s smugness didn’t last long. Jerry, a burly guy in a red sweater, took his spot, visibly confident. Eddie tied the blindfold snugly over Jerry’s eyes and gave him a few dizzying spins for good measure, the room erupting in laughter as Jerry staggered into position. George Thorogood’s gritty riff blared in the background, setting the scene perfectly.

When Jerry finally steadied himself, he lunged forward with determination. The candy cane hit its mark perfectly, sticking just where it was supposed to. The room erupted into cheers, the men clapping Jerry on the back like he’d just won the championship. Harley, still blindfolded and stiffened at first, then let out a dramatic sigh, her smirk quickly returning.

Jerry stuck the same dildo I had been using right up my sister’s tight little asshole – and it hung out like it was a long tail!!!

“Bullseye!” Jerry called out, pulling off his blindfold to see his handiwork. Harley patted the candy cane tail sticking out from her lower back and gave it a playful tug. “Mmm, peppermint,” she teased with a cheeky grin “Damn, feels good to have a tail!!! Evan, look!!! I got my tail!”

The lube didn’t taste like peppermint at all. It tasted like gross sex jelly. I tasted it when I went back to the end of the line.

My sister pranced over to where Dancer was bending over, bent over, and swayed her ass to the music like a stripper dancing on stage, trying to encourage someone to come up with a dollar bill -proud of the tail in her ass.

It was an odd sight—like they were on display, trophies in a game that blurred the lines between playful and primal. Dancer seemed entirely at ease, even pleased, while Harley’s smug expression only grew as she adjusted her stance. They looked like prey caught by hunters, but instead of resisting, they seemed to bask in the attention.

Meanwhile, Eddie passed over another Christmas-themed Peppermint Dildo from what he called the “Toy Box” – a chest of sex toys. Vixen caught it. She bent over, displaying her pussy and ass to the crowd, and squirted a LOT of the sex lube into her hands, spread some on her pussy and asshole- fingering her butt with it.

Then the big blonde turned around and started jerking off the dildo, rubbing the lube up and down the cock. I almost jizzed in my pants watching her perform on the dildo. Everyone else laughed and encouraged her. Jerry handed out half-tequila shots, calling them “reloads,” and made everyone drink a little. All except for me and my sister.

Daisy smirked, leaning in just enough to make her voice drop into that teasing, knowing tone. “I told you DSL wasn’t a charity, but you didn’t want to believe me.”

I was surprised that my aunt was able to speak at a lower volume, and with everyone’s attention on the performance that Vixen was giving us, I had a chance to ask more questions.

Daisy laughed, the sound sharp and unapologetic. “Heck no! There’s no way. Eddie and I are always open and honest about our lifestyle. We don’t go into details; if they knew I’d be a reindeer, they’d beg me to do it all the time at home. I’d have a candy cane up my tail hole every night if Eddie and the boys had their way!”

I smirked, leaning into the teasing. “But I thought you liked being a reindeer. Wouldn’t you love giving them a Christmas gift too?”

“I’d BE the gift, and like I told you in the kitchen, my boys wouldn’t really understand restraint – they’d wear me out!”

She didn’t say anything about being revolted by kissing or allowing her sons to pin her at all – and since she kissed my Mom in front of me, I assumed incest wasn’t a limit – just the frequency.

“You said when they are 18, you are going to invite them, though; what then?”

Daisy tilted her head, her expression softening just slightly. “We’ll have to give them a proper education before they come to something like this—help them understand the boundaries and what this is really about. Limits are important, and I wouldn’t want them walking in without knowing the rules. You’ve done a good job of rolling with things, but I can tell some of this is blowing your mind – especially seeing your sister get nailed up there.”

She indicated Harley shaking her rump playfully like she had won a huge prize by having a dildo stuck up her ass in front of everyone else.

She paused, then smirked knowingly. “See, that’s the problem with your mom’s ‘absolutely not’ approach. All it did was make you curious enough to sneak around to get a peek, connect the dots all wrong, and decide we’re being forced into this, and we’re poor little abused reindeer!” Her voice dripped with hyperbolic self-pity for her plight. “I am not ashamed of getting a dick up the ass, Nick – I’ve taken them before you were born. I love it. My boys know I love sex; I make no secret that we swing, and they’ve met a lot of the guys who are my regulars. I just don’t tell them the details. If they came to this party – they’d have to be prepared to see the details, but that’s ONCE a year we let it all hang out.”

I didn’t get a chance to follow up – the show was back on. Eddie clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, folks, let’s keep the spirit alive! Quick reminder: remember those fancy Sexmass cards waiting for you at the end? If your reindeer get pegged, you’re winning ‘em for your rider. That’s Gary for Dancer, and—wait, who’s Harley riding for again? Someone yell it out.”

From the back, Marty sheepishly raised his hand, earning a round of good-natured jeers from the guys. “That’s right,” Eddie grinned. “Don’t let ‘em down, gents!”

“Okay, who is Blitzen riding for?” Eddie asked. No one said anything, and I looked in my mother’s direction. Her blue eyes burned through my soul, and I didn’t raise my hands. I noticed Blitzen looked dejected.

“No problem, we’ll divide those up!!” Eddie moved along with the game. The line of men shuffled forward as the next round began. My Mom was up next. She stepped to the wall with an exaggerated sigh, pulling her hair back and twisting it into a loose bun. “Alright, harpoon the great white whale, boys,” she declared, pressing her chest to the wall. Her arms framed her face as she leaned forward, her voice full of humor and challenge. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I stayed quiet, trying not to react, but I couldn’t stop the heat rising in my cheeks. Something about all of it—the playful banter, the cheering, the way the girls seemed to glow with pride when pinned—was stirring something in me that I didn’t quite know how to process. I’d never thought of myself as competitive, but watching the game unfold, I couldn’t help but feel an odd mix of anticipation and… something deeper. Something I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit to myself.

I have to admit that my aunt gave me a lot to think about. I was so caught up in the moment that I wasn’t sure how I would react (or how my parents and sister would react) now that this was all out in the open. I wasn’t like my cousins Kyler and Austin – I wouldn’t demand they play Reindeer games at home, but it may still be awkward.

There was a reason my Mom hadn’t been open and honest with me, and she obviously had with Harley – and now Harley was going to be initiated into her DSL club – which was clearly a sex club of some kind.

Once we were ready to go, it was my mom’s turn to present herself to be “tailed” or “pinned” as they called it. Prancing up playfully, big tits shaking, making an entrance. I noticed when my mother turned around, she had recently been spanked – and hard! Her butt was a rosy red color. No one mentioned it but it looked like she had definitely had more than a few swats on the ass.

She was also incredibly aroused – nipples hard, pussy dripping, and and well lubricated. She placed her palms flat and pointy nose on the wall, stuck out her ass, and said sweetly “I am ready for my close up, Mr. Deville!”

I didn’t get the reference, but it was so charming that I laughed anyway, with the others. Eddie blindfolded her, and then Gary – he spun him around.

Gary stepped forward, gripping the candy cane like he was ready for battle. Mom was completely unfazed, her hands confidently pressed against the wall, her whole body on display like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Any reindeer hole, except for my mouth—I hate candy canes! Yuck!” she called over her shoulder, playful as ever.

“But how else are we supposed to shut you up, Twat?” Gary fired back with a cheeky grin, his line earning a round of laughs from everyone watching.

“Twat, Twat, I am a Twat, and you’re not! Let’s see if you can stick it to my spot, hot shot!” Mom sing-songed, shaking her butt side to side in slow, exaggerated motions. “Nanaaa Nanaa Boo-Boo!” she added, sticking out her tongue just enough to hammer the point home.

It was surreal, ridiculous, and easily the strangest thing I’d ever seen. Yet, somehow, it was also the coolest.

Gary lined up his aim, the room falling into a tense hush as he thrust forward. The candy cane completely missed, clattering to the floor with a hollow rattle. Mom didn’t even flinch, steady as ever, with an amused glance over her shoulder. “They should give you candy canes to scale with your tiny penises, so you might actually hit the target!”

The reindeer laughed and cheered, Eddie smacked my mother’s already rosy-red butt several times with his hand in retaliation, but my Mom unrepentantly kept her nose to the wall and smiled like it was worth it.

I couldn’t look away. It was surreal to see her like this—so confident, so carefree. This wasn’t the elegant, composed Mom I was used to; this was someone entirely different. She was in control, unbothered by the attention or the misses. If anything, she seemed genuinely disappointed when they didn’t come close, almost rooting for them to do better.

“Marty, Marty, put it in the place I go farty at the Christmas party!” she sang in a playful, teasing tone, swaying and mocking like a kid on the playground. The room erupted in laughter, and her grin only grew wider, fully embracing the ridiculousness of the moment.

Marty was barely blindfolded and spun around when he charged forward. “I’m going for the bullseye, not the brown eye,” Marty muttered, squinting as he tried to steady his hand. Another miss.

“You are going for the No eye.” Mom shook her head dramatically. She reminded me of one of those clowns that sit in the dunk tank at the county fair and insult you so that you’ll want to throw balls harder at them and dunk them. “Guess your aims as limp as your dick, Marty! I feel bad for Donder tonight!”

It sounded like she was annoyed she had to wait through failed attempt after attempt. I couldn’t get my head around why she might be so eager to be pegged! Why any of them were.

Donder promised playfully that limp or not, she was going to fuck him like he was the last cock on earth! This was MY sister – brazenly promising she’d fuck a man she probably didn’t even know in front of everyone. Wow.

As fate would have it, the boyfriend she would apparently NOT be fucking was up next.

Mom’s voice took on a playful, almost sultry tone. “Evan, my sweet lover boy,” she cooed, “Peg me like you kissed me – nice and hard! Please send me to the winner’s circle, and don’t make me wait…” Her hands were theatrically pressed to her chest, making the performance even more exaggerated. I wasn’t sure how I felt watching her act like this—it was weirdly captivating, and at the same time, I couldn’t shake the awkwardness of it all.

Eddie decided to crank up the atmosphere, switching the music to “You Spin Me Right Round.” Mom turned slightly, hands on her hips. “Really, Eddie? Come on. Play something better, please?”

“Okay, Madame Comet,” Eddie replied, dripping with mock sweetness. “What would you enjoy?”

“AC/DC,” she said with a grin, and within seconds, “Back in Black” blasted through the room. Everyone started bouncing their heads to the beat.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Mom exclaimed, breaking into an air drum solo against the wall. I couldn’t believe how carefree she was—this wasn’t the woman who scolded me for leaving socks on the floor. This was someone else entirely, and it was almost… fun to watch.

Evan stepped forward, gripping the candy cane tightly as he tried to focus. “Evan, I’m getting super dry,” Mom teased, glancing back over her shoulder. “If you can’t land one, maybe just hold it out, and I’ll back up until it pokes me! Help me help you.”

“Nah, nah, that doesn’t count, blue eyes!” Daisy chided her from the sidelines.

Evan’s shot missed. Mom spun around with a big smile. “All that ant-ici-pat-ion, and what did it get me? Cons-ti-pa-tion!” she sang, swaying to the beat and moving her hips with each syllable of the two words to tease him.

Then, Dad stepped up for his turn. “Hello Lucy, I am home,” he said, the iconic line from the TV show I Love Lucy.

Mom straightened, pressing her chest against the wall with an exaggerated sway of her hips. “Oh, hello, big guy,” she purred, her voice dripping with playful charm. “Finally stepping up to remind me who’s in charge?”

Dad chuckled, gripping the candy cane with deliberate slowness. “Remind you? I’ve been in charge since the day you said, ‘I do.’ Now, hold still—this is going to be fun for both of us.”

The room erupted into laughter and whistles, with Mom tossing a sly grin over her shoulder. “Pin me before Nick gets a chance, please,” she winked at me. I was unsure if she was horrified or open to the idea of me even playing this game with her.

It was hard to believe that only hours earlier, our house was calm and serene, and now this decadent party was taking place – my mother, with her bare ass exposed, was waiting for my father to stick a dildo in either her asshole or her twat – and her friends including me and her daughter were watching and cheering.

As the girls booed playfully, Mom leaned into the teasing atmosphere. The ones already pinned were rooting for Dad in jest, shouting, “Come on, hit her where the good Lord split her!” Meanwhile, those who hadn’t been pinned threw out cheekier suggestions like, “Maybe aim for her knees—less surface area than her belly button!” and “Pull those cheeks apart and help him out!”

Dad missed epically after being spun a few too many times, drawing groans from the men and cheers from the women. Before he could even step away, Eddie strode forward, taking center stage like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. He grabbed the mistletoe stick like a microphone and strutted toward me, his grin wide and mischievous.

Eddie’s hand eye-dexterity was a bit off, and he flubbed his try spectacularly. My Mom laughed. “I tried to give you a big enough target, Eddie, sweetie; if you were any further off, you’d be pinning the tail on the Blitzen’s dog across the street!”

I glanced over at Mrs. Sanderson when her reindeer name was mentioned. She covered her mouth and giggled impishly – clearly not offended.

Eddie was already handing me the candy cane dildo. “Do it, make it hurt, son,” he quipped playfully. I found it hard to believe that we could joke this about pegging the women at the party, but no one seemed to take offense – it was all in good fun.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for! Fresh off his tequila-fueled debut, the rookie sensation, the one, the only—Nick!” Eddie’s voice boomed theatrically, and the room erupted into playful cheers.

My uncle leaned toward me, lowering his voice conspiratorially but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Thar she blows! The great white whale, ready and waiting for your harpoon, lad! Mudhole One, and Piss flaps on the horizon, dead ahead!” he bellowed in an exaggeratedly vulgar pirate accent, gesturing dramatically toward Mom’s rear. The room erupted into laughter, some of the guys clutching their sides. “And this, mates, is the harpoon that shall bring her down!!”

He slapped the dildo playfully between my mother’s thighs; she playfully danced and let him do it while he teased her. “Beware of giving chase without the proper aim, for the white whale mocks all but the bravest sailors, Lad!”

I took the dildo from my uncle, handing it to me like it was a deadly harpoon from Herman Melville’s Moby Dick.

“And ya know what they say when men sail to find her?” He paused for effect, grinning like he’d just landed the joke of the century. “They see how big it is and yell, ‘We’re gonna need a bigger boat!’”

Mom, still pressed against the wall, let out a dramatic sigh, swaying her hips just enough to make everyone laugh. “Listen, Nick,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk. “You’ve got one shot to prove you’re more than the peanut gallery back there. Aim for the blowhole, not the blowhard, but I’ll give you a prize if you hit either!”

The room roared, but Mom wasn’t done. “Here, let me make it easier for you.” She reached back, spreading her cheeks extra-wide with exaggerated theatricality – her asshole stretched out, pussy lips dripping. “No excuses now, champ. Concentrate and land it! You wanted to be here – this is what we do. You may as well see it all.”

The prize she mentioned really intrigued me.

I hesitated for a second, the weight of their expectations sinking in, then smirked, deciding to play along. “Depends—do I get a prize for hitting a home run?”

My Mom was deep into her trash talk, palms to the wall, spreading her legs apart, presenting her ass cheeks. “Sure, I’ll make it easy for you,” she removed her palms and pulled her cheeks apart slightly to make it easier for me. “I still haven’t decided whether to send you back to the Johnson’s house after we have dinner. If you hit the bullseye and really want to stay, You have my blessing. That motivation enough, or do you mean something naughty?”

“Staying at the party would be great!”

I wanted to stay – and I wasn’t sure I wanted to push my luck to ask for something ‘naughty’ from my own Mom.

I was still uncomfortable looking at my mother and Harley’s body in the same way that I looked at the other women. I hadn’t given much of a look to Harley when I had the chance – and it cost me.

This time, I memorized every feature of my mother’s pussy lips and her very pronounced gaping asshole. I hate to admit that it turned me on to see how slippery she was back there and how willingly she exposed herself to me.

Her thighs were bound together with rope -a single ornament hanging between them. The reindeers seemed to be constantly changing their outfits and decorating themselves. I wondered how I could use the rope as a landmark to help me approximate where my mother’s pelvis was.

I also couldn’t help but feel a little flattered by Mom’s offer of a reward if I hit her ‘bullseye’. Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about going back to the Johnsons, though they were probably starting to wonder where I was. I didn’t dare joke back with her—I didn’t want to risk her saying she was kidding. Besides, with everything going on, I realized I was starting to work up quite an appetite. Dinner couldn’t come soon enough.

My dad is very well-read; he has been working on a quote for the White Whale thing in the background. “Talk not to me of shame, lad; I’d pin the moon itself if it dared mock me. Now, strike true, and show this beast we mean business!”

No one laughed like they had earlier when Eddie made his jokes. Dad tried again, this time much more dramatically, “This here party, my lad, is no less than the Pequod in search of the great white reindeer! And this candy cane—your harpoon. Don’t let her escape unmarked!”

That got some laughs, and Dad was satisfied. I tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

Mom adjusted her stance even wider, exaggerating how wide her legs could spread. Comet glanced over her shoulder at me with a mix of playful challenge and maternal warmth. Her tone carried a teasing edge, but there was something softer beneath it. “Alright, Nick. You snuck in here, told me you could handle it, and now here we are. Do you still think I was babying you before? Or are you ready to give me that peppermint injection—or are you going to miss and leave me in the loser’s circle for the first time in years?”

"You definitely give a new definition to ‘Thar she blows!’, Mom,” I laughed, and the crowd exploded – instilling me with confidence; my Mom nearly took her hands off her butt cheeks to cover her mouth. Harley laughed so hard that the candy cane in her butt almost fell out. I watched her adjust it and push it back in.

The room’s energy buzzing around me, I wanted to come across as cock sure and confident. I met her gaze, my lips twitching into a smirk. “B-9.” I said cryptically.

Mom raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “What’s B-9?”

“That’s me sinking your battleship!” I quipped, stepping forward with mock confidence.

The room erupted once again into raucous laughter, the girls cheering and hooting the loudest. “Oh, he’s got some fire in him!” Daisy shouted, clapping her hands. Even the other guys joined in, jeering playfully as the spotlight shifted fully onto me.

Mom chuckled, shaking her head. She was clearly amused but kept her composure. “Alright, big shot let’s see what you’ve got. Just remember—this is a party, and what happens here stays here. Don’t brag about what you saw here to your little brother, or…”

Eddie smacked her ass hard and said I had enough common sense to know what happens to loose lips – they suck dicks. I’d be starting with his if I said anything to anyone outside of the party.

Before I could respond, Cupid’s mischievous voice rang out. “Stick it in her shit hole, Nick! She can take it!”

“Not nice, Cupid!” Mom pouted, shooting a mock glare her way before turning back to me with a teasing grin. “Hang on now, Nick. Don’t tail me too hard—try… try to aim for the Twat!”

Eddie spun me around to the beat of AC/DC’s Back in Black, – so I didn’t have a chance to even respond to that outrageous request – either hole had to be humiliating for them.

“Warmer! No, colder! No, wait—hotter!” The voices clashed and ricocheted, making it nearly impossible to focus as I staggered forward – now feeling the pressure. If I didn’t manage this, would she send me home? Perhaps I should not have made the bet at all.

Mom tossed another jab over her shoulder. “If you can’t hit this big ol’ fat ass, how do you ever hit the toilet at home?”

“If he sticks it where you need it stuck, you’ll be shitting on the toilet just fine—no more constipation, Comet,” Evan added calmly, referencing Mom’s earlier joke about his miss and how the dildo would shake something loose.

Mom grinned, clearly delighted by the banter. “Actually, I’d prefer it in my cunt, please. My booty’s a little sore—see if you can fit it in that tight little sugar shaker, Nick! Either hole will do – DSL!”

“DSL!!!” the other girls cheered.

“You’ve got performance anxiety, don’t you, Nick?” she added with mock concern. “Having second thoughts? Want to phone a friend?” my Mom teased – if she wanted me to do this, she sure wasn’t making it easier. I was careful and methodical. They won’t let you cheat and stab the air multiple times. You have one shot, and that’s a lot harder than it seems.

“Aaaannnnn-tish-a-pashion!!!” My aunt sang mockingly.

The other reindeer joined in, “Anticipation is making me late, Is keeping me waiting.”

Clearly, ridiculing me for taking my time.

A few people were also calling out directions and advice. I tightened my grip on the candy cane, isolating my sister’s calm voice from the noise. “Warmer… hotter… hotter… C’mon, Nick!”

The noise melted into the background as I lunged forward, thrusting the candy cane. Silence fell over the room like a curtain dropping – I felt like I stabbed the dildo into the soft folds of a cooked Christmas ham. For a moment, I couldn’t feel or hear anything but the sound of my own heartbeat.

Eddie whipped the blindfold off, and my vision adjusted to the light. All eyes were on Mom. She turned her head, her face frozen in a mix of surprise and mild discomfort.



“Ouchie,” she said softly, her voice uncharacteristically timid. After a beat, she added, “Perfect bullseye.”

I’d managed to only leave a few inches sticking out my mother’s ass – ramming it in as far as I could and then pushing it in a little further. I assumed that she had lubed up well because there was absolutely no resistance when I hit the target.

The room exploded into chaos. Laughter, cheers, and shouts of “Ouchie, perfect bullseye!” echoed off the walls as the phrase became an instant chant. Mom turned beet red, burying her face in her hands while the commotion swirled around her.

Dad clapped me on the shoulder, his grin wide and approving as he stepped forward to address the room. "Well, would you look at that?" he boomed, his voice carrying the weight of pride and amusement. "I believe Melville said it best: ‘For as in this fish of the sea, so in the great whale, the tongue is suspended beneath the upper jaw…’ And damn it, Nick, you found it! A harpooner in the making! Let’s hear it for the boy who bested the beast!" His laugh was infectious, and the crowd erupted in cheers and applause, all eyes on me.

Amid the chaos, Mom peeked out from behind her hands, giving me a look that was equal parts mortified and impressed. “Okay, you can stop pushing it in now—you’re hitting my stomach, Nick.”

“Give it a twist, Nicky!” Eddie teased, grinning ear to ear.

“Yeah, give it a twist!” Cupid echoed, laughing. The two exchanged mischievous glances, sharing a rare moment of alignment in their chaos.

Eddie started rooting around in the Toy Box for another Dildo. “Talk amongst yourselves; we’ve got a bunch of these,” he offered. “Prancer you are up next!”

As Mom moved toward the winner’s circle to join the others, I called out, “Wait a minute.”

She stopped, turning to look at me with a mixture of confusion and exasperation. “What?”

“Turn around,” I said firmly, surprising even myself with the confidence in my voice. I don’t know why I felt the need to test that authority out right then, but I didn’t want her to just walk away and let this be over.

The other girls had slunk away immediately after being pinned, and the game continued, but it felt so anti-climactic. I wanted to know for sure that I won the bet.

Her expression shifted to one of mock disbelief, her eyebrows raised, and a teasing smirk on her lips. "What, so you can admire your work?" she asked, her tone dripping with playful defiance. Mom smirked, stepping into position with exaggerated flair. “Shall I pull my butt cheeks apart so you can see you sunk my battleship? Or is it enough to make me drip all over my floors while you tease me in front of friends I’ve known for years?”

I didn’t expect that. The room howled with laughter, but I had a different question. “So, I won the bet?”

“The bet? Yeah, we were not going to send you home anyway. That’s all you are worried about? As long as you don’t break any rules, you can stay. I’ll call Mrs. Johnson after the ring toss and make sure she knows you are okay.”

I could have asked about the ring toss or why she had to wait, but I decided not to do that. She asked me if I had any other questions or could be dismissed, and she called me Sir – but it was like she didn’t mean it at all in a respectful way.

“Does it hurt?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended. I couldn’t help but notice how her pink pussy glistened and dripped now that her asshole was stuffed. The dildo forced her asshole wider- pushing her cheeks apart. It was in there – and good.

Comet’s blush deepened, and she opened her mouth to respond, but Daisy’s voice cut through the noise. “It’s supposed to hurt!” she shouted, her laughter ringing out. “Take it out, make her clean it off, and give it another go; maybe you didn’t do it right!”

it was a playful suggestion and obviously facetious.

My Mom shifted slightly as if testing the sensation, then gave a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Only a little, sweetheart. More surprising than painful,” she said, her voice soft but steady. Then, with a teasing smirk breaking through her flustered demeanor, she added, “You put me in the winner’s circle, and now it’s going to be up to me to win the ring toss! No caroling with losers!!”

The DSL ladies roared back defiantly. I wasn’t sure what the context of that was – obviously, it was some inside joke. Eddie found the dildo and gave it to Prancer to lube up – putting on a show and stealing the attention away from my conversation with my mother. Prancer filled her mouth with lube and began to suck on the dildo to apply it – it was hot, but I was still talking to my Mom.

Mom glanced at me; her face still flushed but managing a small, wry smile now that all the attention wasn’t on us. “So, Nick,” she asked softly, her tone teasing but laced with curiosity, “did you actually mean to hit the bullseye, or was that just beginner’s luck?”

Her question caught me off guard, and the room seemed to quiet down just enough for a few heads to turn our way, waiting to hear my answer to my mother’s question. I was glad I’d had a little Tequila because it may be dawning on me that I just rammed a huge candy cane up my mother’s ass in front of her friends and our family – and we were talking like it was perfectly normal.

“Was your asshole the bullseye?” I asked for clarification, trying to keep my voice low but failing as my face burned hotter. No one had explained the game thoroughly to me. I think a combination of drinking, the fact most people at the party had obviously done this before, and the overall lack of seriousness over the game made me think there really were no formal rules. “I thought you told someone that was the brown eye, and the target was your pussy hole?”

It sounded disgusting saying “pussy hole,” but I had heard women, including my Mom, use that term exactly when referring to their pussy, and the alternatives were twat and cunt. I wasn’t sure, even after everything, that I could say that to my Mom.

Mom’s blush deepened, but she held her composure, letting out a sharp laugh that turned more heads. “Oh, sweetie, you really are going there, aren’t you? I’ve been reminded by SEVERAL people tonight that it was my idea that we have to be totally honest and give full and explicit answers to anyone who asks us questions – one night of the year. No being coy, no dicking around the bush.”

My mom reached back to her throbbing pink ass and placed her hands on her ass cheeks – I got the impression part of the “explanation” someone gave her was a thorough spanking.

“Yes, I got spanked -a little attitude adjustment and a lecture on treating you like a baby. Yes, I enjoy anal, and yes, I like having a dildo packed neatly up my asshole. Did that answer your question, Sir?” My Mom’s blue eyes seemed to be searching me – testing my reaction to see how I’d respond.

My Mom’s use of the word Sir was not respectful. It dripped of playful sarcasm - but I still liked it when she said it.

“You won the bet, and you can give me and the other reindeer little orders tonight,” Her teasing smirk stayed intact as she straightened up and added, “May I turn around and join my reindeer sisters over there? I’ll wait here until you release me...unless that earlier command of yours was meant to be an order?”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment settle around us. The tequila I’d sipped earlier lent a faint buzz of confidence to my voice. “It was an order. I’ve got questions, and as long as I’m a guest at this party, I’m going to ask them. Aunt Daisy said I could tell the reindeer what to do tonight—just not anyone else’s—and that includes you. And if you misbehave…” I paused, summoning my best attempt at authority, “…I can send you somewhere worse than the naughty corner.”

Mom’s lips quirked into an amused smile, though a flicker of something deeper—curiosity, perhaps—passed through her eyes. “Oh, Cupid told you the rules, did she?” Mom glared at my aunt, who grinned innocently. I noticed Mom had carefully chosen to refer to her sister as “Cupid,” clearly avoiding the penalty for using her real name.

“Rules are rules,” Aunt Daisy replied with a shrug, unapologetic – overhearing our conversation.

I realized much too late that saying, "Cupid told me I could,” made me sound a little bratty. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say until that moment. “I have one more question!”