Santa hemmed and hawed, as he rifled through the stacks of paper on his desk. He pulled out one sheet studied it. Then strode back over to Chad. Chad stared down at Santa's shiny black boots. He could see his reflection in the highly polished leather. The boots weren't in him moments ago. Santa put the towel over his shoulders and squatted down. The muscle man wasn't fat by any stretch of the imagination. Maybe he wasn't really Santa? The reinspection was much more hands on. He forced Chad's mouth open, peered down Chad's throat. Gave the deer boy a prostate exam up to Santa's elbow.
"Yeow! Man, what are you doing!" Chad yowled.
"It's Santa, not Man!"corrected the buff naked man.
"I thought Santa was white haired, was fat and wore a red suit?"
Santa snapped his fingers, his was now clad in a shiny red rubber suit.
"Oh, I will be as Christmas Eve progresses. I take a bite of a cookie or other foodstuffs that night. Billions of bites, hence the rubber suit. It stretches. It takes months to get my body back in shape. As for the hair, you try visiting, and delivering packages to billions of children in one night. I have to magically distort time to do that. Side effect of rapid time dilation is aging. But my Christmas magic restores me to youthful vigor, until next year." He flexed his muscles, which were all visible in the revealing skintight red rubber suit. Santa added, as he adjusted his crotch. "Time dilation also makes me horny. Really horny."
Chad imagined the buff guy racing impossibly fast, eating cookies, delivering gifts, rapidly growing fatter and older going from home to home. Chad's eyes fell on Santa's crotch, which was trapped under the red rubber costume. Chad had to cum about 5 times a day, but if Santa compressed 10,000 days into one night, Chad would need to blow 50,000 loads. He shook off those thoughts.
"Okay, you're Santa," Chad said. Then he asked, "Now why am I here? What have you done to me?"
Santa sighed then shouted, "Hermie! You got the wrong boy!" He trembled. Chad stared at Santa's rubber clad body. It didn't look like a bowl full of jelly.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. He's not on the Naughty List. Hm, but he's not on the Nice List either? It should be one or the other. Hm?"
He put his fingers to his lips and blew. The whistle was loud and piercing. Both Chad and Hermie cringed at the sound.