Finding Santa

The reporter found himself investigating another wacky conspiracy theory that was making its rounds on the internet. This one was about a secret government project taking place up in the arctic. According to this reader, a large part of the arctic sea was being blotted out by the government to hide their activity there. He had provided the reporter with the longitude and latitude, and when the reporter entered into Google Earth, the map swirled upward and northward, away from his Venice Beach home address, until it zeroed in on the coordinates that were very near the North Pole.

Just as the reader had said, this area on the satellite map was blurred out, like a blotch on the terrain. The reporter zoomed in as closely as he could, and leaned in closer to his laptop screen. He saw shapes that looked like either pixellated images...or buildings. That seemed hard to imagine, way up there, but it did spark his curiosity. He began to search the internet for the supposed government activity, and he came across several blogs and websites that discussed a project made up of hundreds of high-powered radio towers. Some of the theories were that the towers could work in unison to concentrate their frequencies, generating huge power that could potential knock down satellites or missiles, or control the weather, or create a tsunami. One of the wackier theories was that the towers could be used to create mind control, tapping into the frequency of the human brain.

The reporter went back to the satellite image. They could be towers, he thought. There did seem to be a lot of something being hidden by the pictures. He decided to approach his editor about doing a story on it. The editor was highly skeptical at first, but when they called in the science editor, he was able to zoom in even closer to the images.

"They do look like structures of some sort. More like buildings than towers though."

The newspaper needed a big story, badly. Circulation was falling fast. And the reporter was aching to make a name for himself. He convinced the editor to give him time off to pursue it. "Without pay," said the editor.

That's how the reporter found himself heading to the North Pole on a dog sled, led by his friend Jake, who was into extreme sports of any kind. Unfortunately, they weren't prepared for the blizzard that struck them as they neared the Pole, separating them in a whirlwind of white. The reporter became lost and snow-blind as he fell to his knees in the deepening snow. Just as he was blacking out, he felt a powerful hand grip his snow suit and lift him into the air with ease.

When he woke up, he was on a bed in a small windowless room. As he was looking around, getting his bearings, the door to the room opened up, and the most powerfully built dwarf he'd ever seen came waddling in. The dwarf looked him in the eye, then turned his head back to the door.

"Tell the big man his guest is awake," he yelled out, in a deep gravelly baritone. As he waddled over to the bed, the reporter blinked his eyes in disbelief. The dwarf had on a sleeveless green felt shirt, and his short arms were heavily muscled. His chest rounded up high, and pulled at the pearl buttons that barely held his shirt closed. He had on green tights that were so tight, the reporter could see the thick muscle rippling as he walked toward him. "What's the matter, never seen an elf before?" he asked as he approached the reporter. Their faces were almost level, even though the reporter was still stretched out in the bed. The elf laughed deeply. "Especially not one like me," he said. Then he raised his arms into a double biceps shot. "Eighteen inchers," the elf smirked. On his short stature, they looked more like 24's.

"Holy shit," said the reporter.

"Yeah," smirked the elf. "How about this?" He flexed into a most-muscular, causing his buttons to pop off like bullets. His vest splayed open, exposing a chest like a miniature Branch Warren. "You wanna wrestle this?" he asked.

"Where the hell am I?" asked the reporter. He could smell the sweet musk of elf sweat.

"You're at the North Pole," said the elf, still watching himself flex. "Sure you don't want a piece of this?" he said, as he stripped off his vest, exposing a 6 pack that V'd into a tiny tight waist.

The reporter sat up and shook his head. "Where did you say?"

"Santa's Workshop, where else, little man?"

The reporter looked at the elf, who was the most muscular creature he'd ever seen. "There's no such....."

"Hoooo, hold on there. You finish that sentence, and I will have to hurt you. Stay right there," said the muscle elf, turning and waddling toward the open door, his thick back muscles rippling with every move and his overdeveloped glutes riding high in his green tights He leaned his head out and said, "Tell the big man we got another nonbeliever." He turned back to the reporter. "He's gonna love showing you just how real he is."


Part 2

The reporter sat up in the bed. He couldn't believe he had just seen a super muscular elf in green tights waddle out of the room. He had to be dreaming.

aHe shook his head to try and focus. But as he did, the door opened again. Two more elves stuck their heads around the corner, then they came running into the room, and jumped onto the bed,
one on each side of him. Both of them had sleeveless vests on, like the last elf, and were also extremely muscular. The first elf had a thick head of blond hair, and looked like Lee Priest, yet even thicker, and slightly shorter. In fact, even standing on the bed, he was face to face with the reporter. The second elf had brown hair, and was wearing one of those little curled elf hats. He looked like a miniature Erik Fankhouser. He had thighs and calves that were about to bust out of his green pants They were examining him very closely. So closely in fact, that he could feel their body heat, smell their sweet musk. They started asking him questions like where he had come from, why he was there, shooting questions at him faster than he could answer. Finally, the blond one asked him if he was hungry.

"You two seem much friendly than the other one," said the reporter, trying to keep up.

"You don't have to worry about Angur," said the blond. "He's always been testy, but it's worse now that he's in charge of Playstation games."

"And you have no idea how friendly we can be," said the Fankhouser lookalike. "Watch." He reached out and touched the reporter's shoulder with his muscular little hand. Instantly, the reporter felt a surge of pleasure rush over him. Then the blond elf reached down and put his hand on the inside of the reporter's thigh. The reporter groaned with pleasure, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Little flashes of light, like diamonds, danced around in his head. The elves smiled, and began to stroke their hands all over him. He felt like he did the first time he had sex as a teenager, times a thousand. And it was beyond merely sexual, it was ecstatic, as the two elves sandwiched him between their rock hard musclehead bodies, and massaged him with their powerful little hands. He felt like he was having an out of body experience, floating into a painless, stress free state of mind, yet with every nerve ending firing off, like fireworks at Disney World. Several times, he felt the elves lift him into the air, handling his 220lbs as if he were a pillow, shifting his body as they rubbed up against him with their thick heavy limbs. He could hear himself groaning and moaning with pleasure, which only seemed to make the elves work him over with even more intensity. It was like every inch of his body was a G-spot, and the elves knew exactly how to touch them for maximum effectiveness. But after awhile, he began to worry that it was more than his mind and body could handle. He had lost all track of time. He began to struggle for it to stop, or at least slow down, but the elves were far, far too strong. He could almost sense that they were getting stronger and stronger as they worked him over. But it was so very pleasurable. He was about to let himself go, to stay in this nirvana forever, to give himself over to the elves, when he heard the door open, and a deep baritone voice say, "Ok, boys, put the man down." The reporter felt himself lowered back onto the bed, and released. His feeling of extreme ecstasy abated quickly as the elves let him go, and jumped down off the bed. Outside the doorway stood the frame of a very big man. He was too tall for the reporter to see his face, but he had on red thermal underwear and black boots, the laces of which were undone to allow room for his football sized calves. The reporter could see the muscularity of the powerlifter thighs even thru the thermal. He had on suspenders, but no shirt, showing off a big solid gut that looked hard as cast iron, a big broad chest with pecs that were squared off, like two huge phonebooks of solid muscle. The suspenders were held spread apart by two big nips that jutted out over an inch past the thick white chest hair. The big man ducked to enter the room, then stood at full height. His thick white beard rested on his barrel chest. His big nips pointed downward, seemingly at the two elves.

"I see you've met Rapture and Bliss," he said to the reporter.

"He sure has," responded Rapture, the blond. "This is a good one, that's for sure," he said, sweat running down his brow.

The reporter looked at the two elves, and realized that they had gotten absurdly pumped up. Thick veins ran up and down their thick short arms and branched out like river deltas on their hands and forearms. Their pecs had busted thru their vests, like overfilled balloons, pulsing up and down with their heavy breathing. The back of Bliss's pant legs had ripped open, exposing his highly defined hamstrings, tight as bridge cables, rippling as he walked toward the big man. The elves both walked up to him, and hugged him around his calves. The reporter heard the big man grunt with pleasure as the elves began to stroke his enormous thighs. He closed his eyes for a second and let his head roll back. Then he shook his head upright, and flexed his powerful legs, sending both elves back on their butts.

"There's no time for that now, boys, get back to work," the muscular giant said teasingly.

The two elves stood up, locked arms, and headed out of the room. "Ok, Santa," said Bliss as they exited. "Maybe later."

The big man shook his head as he watched them go. "They're a handful, but they make the best erotic toys."

The reporter looked at him and said, "Who.....what.....where..?"

"Ah, always the reporter, heh, Jimmy?"

The reporter was trying to regain his composure. No one had called him Jimmy since grade school. "How did you know my name. And who are you?"

"You heard what Bliss called me. And I know everyone's name, Jimmy."

"But it can't be, you can't be. I mean, even if .....Santa is supposed to be fat and jolly!"

"Hoo hoo hooo," bellowed the big man, so hard and deeply that Jimmy felt it in his bones. "I can be a pretty jolly fellow, boy, especially when someone believes in me. And, people see me as I want them to see me. I don't want to frighten children with all this," he said, bouncing his huge pecs, causing his beard to lift up and down. "I started working out back in the 20's, when I started getting a little soft. Ninety years of heavy lifting have paid off for me, don't you think," he said, flexing his arm, bulging up the biceps like a big misshapen brick. "Twenty-eight inches of Santa muscle." He walked over to the reporter and leaned over him. "You want to touch it?" Jimmy reached out tentatively and put his hand on the massive 28" boulder of an arm. He ran his hand to the underside of the big arm, and felt up the triceps, big as a Christmas ham. Jimmy lived in Venice Beach for a reason, and had seen plenty of huge men. He had even paid for some, to let him worship their mass. He especially liked the guys who never competed, but lifted merely to grow and grow, to become as massively muscular as possible, and then some. None of them came close to what he was holding onto now.

"Make a wish,boy," said Santa, and Jimmy looked Santa in the eye, then back at Santa's arm. Santa smiled and said, "Oh yeah," as his arm began to swell. He flexed harder as it grew, and the peak rose up higher and higher, the size of a tennis ball slabbed onto his already massive arm. "Oh yeah," said the big man. "Must be 32" now, Jimmy. You are a good one."

Jimmy smiled widely as he rubbed his hand back and forth on the huge peak, feeling the leathery skin slide over the craggy mound, his fingers bumping over the deep muscle splits.

"You believe in me now?" the big man asked.

"Now more then ever," the reporter answered, as wide-eyed and joyful as a little kid at Santa's toyland.


Part 3

"Come see my workshop," Santa said to the reporter. He placed his big beefy hand on Jimmy's shoulder, and led him into the hallway.

"Are all the elves super muscular?" Jimmy asked as they stepped out of the room.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" chuckled Santa. "But no, only a few hundred of them are as muscular as the ones you've met. Some even more so."

Santa led Jimmy to a railing that overlooked an open atrium, where they could see tier after tier of workshops filled with elves working on all manner of toys. Jimmy scanned the different levels, looking to see if he could find the elves that were even more muscular than Angur, Bliss, and Rapture. He thought he saw a few with extraordinarily wide backs, but the little tanky elves would scurry out of sight before he could be sure.

"Come, Jimmy, I'll show you my main office." Santa led the reporter down the hallway and around the corner, until they were at a huge set of wooden doors. Inside, there was a heavy oak desk that sat in front of a big window that overlooked the workshop. Santa went over to a closet, opened it, and pulled out a red thermal shirt. He laid it on a chair, then pulled his suspenders over the edge of his shoulders.

"My god, your shoulders are big," Jimmy said in awe, as Santa snapped the suspenders off his soccer ball-sized delts.

"Hoo hoo, Jimmy, you think this is big? Watch this." Santa put his hands on his hips, and swelled out his massive barrel chest. Then he began to grow taller. And wider. And thicker. Up and up he grew, until his head nearly hit the 8 foot ceiling. His quads grew monster huge, so swollen that his red thermal pants stretched out so thin that Jimmy could see thru them. The bottoms of the pant legs pulled up mid shin, and were then bunched up to the knee by Santa's massive, swelling calves. The waistband of the pants came up to Jimmy's nose. Santa bent his head over his huge pec shelf and peered down at him. "720lbs of Santa muscle, not bad, huh, boy?" he said.

"You'll never fit down a chimney like that," stammered Jimmy, bracing himself against a chair as he looked up at the behemoth musclebound St.Nick.

Santa laughed such a big bellowing roaring laugh, that the din of the workshop came to a stop for a second. "Don't worry, little man, I can do all sorts of tricks." And with that, Santa slowly returned to his 'normal' size of 6'4, 390lbs.

Suddenly, an elf came in and said to Santa, "We've just gotten news that the caped one has returned to his abode, sir."

"Thank you, Tee M Zee," said Santa. "Go prepare Blitzen for me." The little elf, not as muscular as some, but you could tell he worked out, left the room proudly.

"The caped one?" asked Jimmy.

"You would know him better as Superman. He's come back to his Fortress of Solitude, which is not far from here, and I just love to toy with him while he's there."

"Toy with him?" said Jimmy.

"Yes, I take delight in disrupting his solitude. Makes him nuts. Wrestling him around, forcing him into tests of strength with me. It helps keep these old bones in shape," said Santa. Then he flexed his bulging rounded gut, rubbed it with his big hands, and said, "You should see how he bounces off this thick 8 pack."

Tee came back in and announced that Blitzen was ready for Santa.

"Thank you, Tee," said Santa. "While I'm gone, prepare the arena. I think you elves could use a little amusement after all the hard work you've been doing. And take Jimmy down to the elf gym so he doesn't get bored.

"How long will you be gone?" Jimmy asked.

"Oh, not too long. A few hours of me tossing him around, and Clark gets pretty wasted. He gets so mad when I make him tap out over and over again. Maybe I'll take Mrs Claus, she gets off on seeing me full-nelson him off the ground and shake him like a rag doll. And when I bearhug him, forget about it. Feels like I could snap his little spine like egg shell. He arches back, tries to break my hold. Ain't happening. And my leg scissors get him every time. You should see the power I can squeeze out of these suckers. " Santa flexed his legs as he talked, and his quad muscles writhed around like oversized boa constrictors. "Clark just squirms and squirms trying to break out. He punches my legs as hard as he can, and I just laugh. I think it just makes me stronger. And if I make my legs swell in size as I hold him pinned, till my massive thighs cover his entire torso and I lock my ankles, that really gets him pissed. He tries as hard as he can to pry them apart. He taps out over and over, and I just keep squeezing. No wonder he gets exhausted... I've missed seeing that little fella, he hasn't been up here for ages," he said, as he pulled on the tight red shirt that did nothing to hide his enormous, powerful torso. Then he pulled his suspenders back over his big shoulders and snapped them down tightly on his mounded traps. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

"He can be one cocky showoff," said Tee, "but you gotta love him."


Part 4

Blitzen landed on an icy outcropping just outside the entrance to the Fortress of Solitude. Santa was riding him bareback, and the big reindeer was drenched in sweat from flying the densely muscled St. Nick to his destination. It was all worth it though when Santa dismounted and caressed the animal's neck with his big calloused hand. Blitzen watched calmly as his Master strode confidently into the ice cave's opening. Once inside, the big man bellowed out, "Anybody home?" From the back of the cave, someone groaned out, "oh no." Santa laughed and laughed. "Come on out, boy. You know you have to, or I'll just come back there and drag your ass out here. Hell, I'll even shrink myself down some, so you won't be so afeared."

"I'm not 'afeared'," said Superman, making his way begrudgingly from one branch of the cave. "I just have things to do up here."

"Bah," said Santa, "you can do them later. And look, I'm not the big scary St. Nick who usually bounces you around these walls." And as Superman approached he saw what the big man meant. Santa had transformed himself into a lookalike of MMA fighter Mirko Cro Cop. Although Santa had taken some liberties with his change, and instead of being Cro Cop's 6'2", 220lbs, he was 6'6" and 320lbs of rippling pro fighter muscle.

"Ah, man," said Superman, "I'm not fighting that."

"Common, baby boy, take your best shot. I'll give you the first one free," Santa said, sticking out his square chin and tapping it with his finger.

Superman shook his head, but then, with lightning speed, he swung a right hook right at Santa's jaw. Santa dodged it completely, and Superman's fist went whiffing thru the cold air. "Ah, ya missed," said the big man. "Try again." Santa knew how to push Superman's buttons. Superman began swinging lefts and rights, with superhuman speed, but Santa bobbed and weaved away from every one of them. Finally, Superman stopped swinging, and let his arms hang down in frustration. "My turn," said Santa, and he jumped up and swung himself 180 degrees, landing his big boot in a roundhouse kick to the center of Superman's chest. The Man of Steel went flying back, airborne, and slammed into a wall of hard blue ice. He let out a grunt as his ass hit the cold rock floor. His face reddened as his anger rose up thru him. He jumped up and flew at Santa with all his might. Santa sidestepped him at the last second, grabbed him and, using Superman's own momentum, lifting him into an airplane spin over head. Around and around he spun him, then he threw Superman down face first onto the ground, so powerfully, it cracked the granite rock floor of the cave. Santa jumped down onto Superman's back, and wrapped his arms around the superhero's neck. Then he pulled back. "Camel Clutch, baby," said Santa, bouncing up and down as he arched Superman's head back. "Riding you like a pony!"

Santa let go of his clutch, and Superman's face hit the rock floor hard. He crawled up on all fours, his blue suit already showing pit stains of sweat. But then he propelled himself into the air, and flew out of the Fortress. Once outside, Superman soared upward, flying as fast as he could away from the superstrong St Nick. But from inside the cave, the big man issued a command. "Blitzen, fetch!" he said, and the obedient reindeer took off after Superman. It didn't take long for the big animal to catch up to him. He grabbed Superman with his mouth, chomping down on Superman's ankle. Superman yowled in pain, and tried as hard as he could to free himself. When he couldn't do that, he tried as with all his might to continue away from the cave, pulling Blitzen with him. But the mighty Blitzen yanked Superman to a stop, then reversed course, and flew him back to the cave entrance. Once landed, the big deer twisted his thick powerful neck and flung Superman back inside the cave. The superhero was jettisoned into the rock solid gut of the big man, which he bounced off of, and landed on his ass. His suit was now drenched in super sweat. Santa reached down with one big hand and grabbed Superman's arm. He jerked him off the ground as if to toss him across the cave, but instead, straight-armed Superman across the chest with his massive club of a forearm, sending the superhero backwards, crashing onto the hard cave floor.

'Hoo hoo hoo," roared Santa, slapping his big hand on his massive thigh. "You should see the look on your face!"

Superman, stunned by the strength of Santa's straight-arm smash, shook his head and tried to focus. Suddenly, he got to his feet and quickly flew around Santa, and grabbed him into a reverse bearhug. He locked his hands on his wrists against the big man's rock gut and squeezed as hard as he could with his titanium-crushing arms. "Not bad," grunted out Santa. Superman got his hold on even tighter, and began to lift the big man off the ground. Santa grabbed the superhero's arms and tried to pry them apart. Superman increased his grip with all the power he had.

Big snaking veins began to pop out on Santa's temples and neck as he strained against the bearhug. His arm muscles rippled and swelled with power. When he managed to pry Superman's grip just slightly apart, he slid his thick fingers in between Superman's steel forearms. He pried them open even farther.

"Fuckkk," grunted Superman, as he tried to squeeze his grip back together. He felt the insane power of the big man's fingers, thick as rolls of half dollars, as they worked open his bearhug. Slowly, his arms began to spread apart, farther and farther, until Santa simply stepped out of the hold. He let go of Superman's arms and turned to face him. "You can't beat Cro Cop," he said cockily. "He has a thousand times your strength." And his 320lb Cro Cop body was so fully bloated with pump that he couldn't help flexing it at the Man of Steel, who took a step back in awe at the sight of it. Cro Cop Santa crouched over, and lunged at Superman, shoulder blocking into him and sending them both flying back 60 feet, into a glacial wall. Santa pushed himself up off of the superhero, who was gasping for breath. Santa picked him up and put him into a side headlock.

"Now feel my power," Santa said, settling his hold around Superman's neck. Superman felt the big man's arm start to grow. He felt Santa's chest crushing into him harder and bigger. Santa grunted as he grew taller and stronger, doubling and tripling in strength with every inch of growth. Suddenly, Superman realized that his feet were off the ground. Santa wrapped his other huge, growing arm around Superman's body, and held him tight against his swelling chest. Superman could see Santa's lats opening wider and wider, like thick wings of mega muscle. Santa's 26" forearm was crushing into Superman's windpipe.

"Santaaa," Superman choked out, as Santa reached 9' tall and 890lbs of striated granite muscle. Superman was merely a speck against his mighty chest and lats, his head bent oddly forward by the big man's 39" biceps, pressing his face into a huge sweaty pec. Superman tapped on the mighty forearm. "I give, I give."

"Hoo yeah, so huge, so strong," bellowed out Santa, forgetting about the little man he held against him. His massive muscle back was giving off so much heat, that the stalactites of blue ice above his head began to drip water, a drop of which hit him in the nose, making him realize he was crushing the Man of Steel. He lifted Superman out of his headlock, then shoved him in between his pecs, which were now both the size of Smart cars. He jammed Superman into his deep pec canyon, then flexed his chest, swallowing Superman in like two lava flows. Santa stretched his huge arms straight overhead, then grew taller and thicker, until his hands were pressing against the top of the cave. He pushed up hard, and the whole cave began to shake. He roared, and pushed up harder. Stalactites began to fall around them. The ground shook as if in an earthquake. Santa's foot-thick forearms were snaked with garden hose-sized veins. The very roof of the cave was about to tear off from his strength . Suddenly he stopped. He crossed his huge arms over his heaving chest, folding them over his pecs, further burying Superman inside his muscularity. Then he unfolded his arms. He unflexed his chest, and peeled Superman out off his sweaty crevice. "Sorry, little man, sometimes I forget my own strength," said the enormous Santa-beast. He sat Superman down. He looked down at his monster pecs, and bounced them up and down, sometimes holding them at the top of the flex, using total muscle control to make the striations roll from bottom to top. Superman almost came in his tights as he watched the display of extreme pec control on the mega huge Santa. Huge rolling boulders of pec slabs, undulating up and down. "Not bad, eh?" Santa said with a smirk. "Could do this all day long... but we've got work to do," he said, but he flexed his pecs up and down several more times. Then he began to return to his normal size. He leaned over and picked up Superman, throwing him across his shoulders.

"Where are we going?" Superman asked.

"Back to my workshop, for some more amusement," answered Santa.

"Ahh, man," groaned a worn-out Superman.

"Don't worry, Clark," laughed Santa, "you'll feel better in a second."

Superman wouldn't admit it, but he felt pretty good already. As much as he complained, he actually liked being outmuscled by the old man. It was the only time he didn't have to be the one in control.

As Santa mounted Blitzen, he said the reindeer, "Go high!" In a flash, Blitzen soared straight up. And up. Clear into the stratosphere, where Santa held Superman up, exposing him to the yellow sun of the earth, recharging Superman's strength and stamina. Superman groaned in pleasure as he soaked in the powerful rays, the solar heat steaming dry his sweat-soaked suit, and the big man holding him overhead in his strong hands.

"Now, home!" Santa ordered his reindeer, when he felt that the superhero had gotten enough of a solar jump start. And in the blink of an eye, they were off to the workshop.


Part 5

While Santa was at the Fortress, Jimmy found himself at the elves' gym. It was a big space, with lots of benches and equipment, and there were a handful of elves working out. The place was spotlessly clean, and the weights appeared to be made out of chrome, all shiny and new. Jimmy decided to do a few light bench presses to pass the time. He went to pick up what he thought was a 45lb plate, but it turned out to be much heavier than he expected, and he dropped it to the floor with a crash. Everyone stopped and stared over at him for a second, but then went back to their workouts.

"Watch yourself there, shithead," said a gravelly voice behind him. Jimmy turned around and saw Angur standing there with his arms crossed, scowling at him. He seemed bigger and taller than Jimmy remembered him, maybe 4'11, and a pumped 200lbs. His arms jutted out to his side, and Jimmy could see his lats jutting out behind his tank top. Jimmy reddened and apologized, then leaned over to pick the plate up, but he could barely budge the thing. "Let me do it," Angur said gruffly. He pushed Jimmy out of the way and went to pick up the plate. "These weights are made of platinum, and are much too heavy for your weakling hands," said Angur. "This one weighs 250lbs." Angur gripped the plate, but not around the edge. There was a ridge around the hole in the middle of the weight, and he put his fingers around the outside of this ridge, and clamped onto it. Then he lifted the plate, one-handed. Every muscle in his arm and shoulder rippled as he twisted the weight around. He put the plate on the bar, then slid it in. "Let me show you how it's done." Angur loaded another 5 plates onto the bar. Then he got on the bench and started doing presses.

"That's 1500lbs," Jimmy stammered.

"Plus the bar, nitwit," said Angur, as he pressed the bar up and down for multiple reps. After 20 reps, he racked the bar, got up, and added two more plates.

"That's a ton!" said Jimmy, stunned.

"You sure are a quick study," said Angur, as he got back on the bench and started repping out the bar.

"Don't pay too much attention to him," said a voice next to Jimmy. Jimmy turned to see a very good looking older elf. He was wearing a tight green tank top with red piping around the edges. He looked like a short version of Lance Johnson, a bodybuilder that Jimmy had seen at Gold's Gym from time to time. "He only talks like that to people he likes."

"How does he talk to people he doesn't like?" Jimmy asked him, trying not to stare at the cobblestone abs underneath the tight tank top. They were heaving in and out as the mature elf breathed.

"Oh, you don't want to see that," laughed the elf, clenching his abs hard, making them stand out even more. "My names Vangur. I'm his dad." He put out his hand and shook with Jimmy. Vangur had the bluest eyes Jimmy had ever seen, and a face so handsome it was hard for Jimmy to look at him for too long. Vangur pulled Jimmy close to him and whispered, "We think he might have a little dwarf blood in him," and he winked at Jimmy.

"I heard that!" barked Angur, slamming the ton of weight back onto the rack. He sat up, his huge chest and shoulders raging and nearly purple with pump.

Vangur laughed, showing of a set of perfect teeth, white as the freshest snow. "Well then, be nicer to our visitor, you know the big man likes it. Besides, you need to go get ready for your match."

"His match?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes," said Vangur, "the boss man said he was going to bring someone back to challenge Angur in the arena. Everything is already set up for it."

"Set up for some poor loser to get CRUSHED," growled Angur. He was looking at himself in the wall mirror and flexing. His muscles were swollen up huge. Jimmy couldn't imagine anyone trying to fight the jacked-up beast of an elf. His back muscles rippled and bulged as he flexed his arms, arms that had just been pressing 2000lbs as if it had been an unloaded bar. He waddled over to his dad and Jimmy. "You going to be there, human?" he said to Jimmy.

"I wouldn't miss it," said Jimmy.

"Good," said Angur, his tone softening. Then he peeled of his tank top, wrung out the sweat, and tossed it aside. His torso seemed to swell with size once released from the tank."You can hit me if you want, you won't hurt me," he said, thrusting his swollen, reddened pecs up and out.

"I...I...." Jimmy stuttered, looking over at Vangur.

"Go ahead, give that chest a good forearm smash," said Vangur.

Jimmy shrugged, then lifted his right arm over his head, and brought his forearm down onto the mighty elf's chest mound. Angur didn't budge an inch, just absorbed the blow like a joke. "Oh, yeah," he said, "I am gonna CRUSH." He turned and waddled out of the gym.

"Cocky little fuck, isn't he?" laughed Vangur as he watch his son leave.

"I'd say with good reason," said Jimmy, fighting down a raging hardon.

Then, Tee M Zee came into the gym, and headed over to them excitedly and said, "Santa's returned. The match will start soon. Spread the news!"

Vangur led Jimmy out of the gym, and up a long, climbing hallway. Excited elves were running past them in both directions. When they entered the arena, Jimmy let out a gasp. The space had multiple tiers, just like the workshop, only with stadium seating, and Christmas lights outlining each of the levels. Jimmy lost count of how many levels there were, it went up so high. A big wrestling ring was set up in the middle of the big floor.

"Impressive, isn't it?" said Vangur.

"It's dazzling," said Jimmy, mouth agape as he looked about.

"Not even us elves get to see it like this very much. Come on, I'll take you over to the big man's box. You'll be sitting there with him and his wife."

"It's almost overwhelming," said Jimmy, letting Vangur lead him by the arm so he could continue to look around.

Vangur chuckled. "Just wait until the fight starts."


Part 6

The elves were quickly filling up the arena. Santa was already in his box when Vangur and Jimmy arrived, and next to him sat a beautiful Nordic blond that looked exactly like Elin Woods, Tiger's wife, only with a huge chest. "Welcome," said Santa, as he stood up and introduced her to Jimmy as Mrs Claus.

"She looks just like...." Jimmy said to Santa, as Mrs Claus turned her attention back to the crowd.

"I know," chuckled Santa. "You should see what see really looks like. Not so good," he whispered. "We both enjoy this new look. And she loves when I cup those double D's with these big hands," said Santa, holding his hands up, palms open. "Don't you, hon?"

"Very much so," said Mrs Claus, grinning, as she leaned her blond head against Santa's huge shoulder, and caressed his arm with her hands.

"She loves these 30" pythons you wished for me," Santa said proudly, flexing his arm and making Mrs Claus quiver with pleasure.

"Sometimes I go at her so hard, I bet the real Elin feels it, all the way down in Sweden." Santa sat back in his seat, stroked his thick beard, and turned to watch the activity that was beginning to take place at the ring. The announcer climbed in, wearing a tall red hat, and then the ref, where a red and greened striped shirt. Then Angur came down from the left, and hopped onto the apron spryly, and climbed into the ring. He strutted around the ring flexing, wearing a tight red singlet. Then from the right, Superman flew in and landed at the opposite side of the ring. The announcer walked to the middle of the ring. He welcomed everyone to tonight's match-up, and then said, "This will be a no-holds barred battle, with no time limit. The first fighter to get a submission, wins. To my right, standing at 4'10 and weighing in at 219lbs, is Angur, The Mighty Elf." The crowd roared with applause and some jeering. Some of them were blowing horns. Angur flexed his short thick muscle arms into a double bi. "To my left, standing at 6'2", 225lbs, is Clark "The Superman" Kent." Superman took off his cape, draped it over the ropes, and nodded to the crowd, which responded with the same mix of applause and cat calling.

Jimmy sat up in his seat."Clark?" he said, as a realization began to sink into his reporter's mind.

Clark, despite the roaring crowd, heard him with his super hearing. "Jimmy?" he said, scanning the arena.

Santa looked over at Jimmy. "Don't tell me you never knew," he said.

"No...I mean, I guess I suspected..but, no...geez," Jimmy said, "not much of a reporter, am I?", his mind reeling as all the pieces suddenly fell together.

Angur was strutting his way to the center of the ring, next to the ref, who turned to Superman and motioned for him to step up. Superman came up to them. The ref said some things to the two fighters, then had them bump fists. Superman had to bend over some to reach Angur's fists, and he continued to scan the crowd for Jimmy, overly confident that this battle with the musclebound elf would be a cake walk for him. Angur took advantage of his distraction, and swung a fist at Superman's face, connecting solidly just under his eye. The loud crack echoed thru the arena. Superman stumbled back from the surprisingly hard blow. He wasn't used to feeling any pain at all, but this one hurt. "Why you little...." he said, and he grabbed Angur around his waist and hurled him into the air, sending him soaring several tiers high. Angur spun himself around, and aimed himself head first back toward Superman. He slammed into Superman's chest at full velocity. Superman took a step back, the wind knocked out of him, but managed to catch Angur in his arms. He grabbed onto the elf's ankles, and began to spin him around and around in the ring. Then he shifted Angur up over his head, and SLAMMED him down onto the mat. Angur bounced like a lead weight. Superman got on top of him, straddling him, and began to push down on his thick shoulders, trying to pin him. Angur arched his head back and formed a bridge with his powerful neck, keeping his shoulders from hitting the mat. Superman pushed down on him harder, hoping to end this match quickly, but the powerful elf had more strength than he had imagined. Superman pushed harder, with all his might, and the elf's bridge slowly began to waver. He twisted back and forth, as one shoulder hit the mat, then the other.

"Not so fast," whispered Santa, and Jimmy saw him point his finger toward the ring. A sparkling crystalline glitter shot out and swirled its way onto the floor of the ring. It spun around Angur, then disappeared. Suddenly, Angur's neck bridged arched back up, higher than ever, keeping his shoulders free of the mat. He began to grunt and twitch.

"Oh shit," muttered Superman, looking up at Santa, as he felt the muscle elf's delts begin to expand. Angur was growing right under Superman's hold. Swelling and thickening, his limbs stretching out longer. Superman strained and strained to pin him, sweat beading up on his brow, the ref on the mat, swinging his hand under Angur's shoulder to show that he wasn't pinned. And Angur grew bigger. Suddenly, he pushed against Superman's chest with his hands, sending Superman 6 feet into the air, and flying back into the turnbuckle. Angur kipped himself up, and landed solidly on his feet. He continued to grow and swell stood 6'6" tall and weighed 320lbs. He looked like the Danish bodybuilder Kim Kold, only bigger and with pointy ears. The straps of his singlet had snapped, and the trunks of the singlet and bunched up around his new size like a tight fitting poser. He motioned with his fingers for Superman to come back at him. Superman walked up to him, only now he had to look up at the mighty elf. Angur grinned down at him, an evil twinkle in his steel blue eyes. Then he raised his hands into the air, challenging Superman to a strength of feat. Superman reached his hands up toward Angur's, who had to lower his big arms in order for Superman to meet up. They interlocked fingers and locked up. Then they began to strain against each other, grunting and pushing, working their way around the ring. Angur's massive body began to glisten with sweat. Back and forth they went, until finally, Angur began to muscle Superman's arms downward. The big elf's arms had swollen even bigger with the effort, and his vascularity had tripled. When he got Superman's arms down and in his control, he worked the Man of Steel around the ring like his toy. Then he jerked down on Superman's arms, sending the superhero sprawling flat on his face. Angur jumped on Superman's back, flipped Superman on top of one leg, then rolled his other leg over the top of Superman's torso, clamping down on him with a leg scissor. Angur fell back onto the mat, locked his ankles on the other side of Superman's torso, and began to squeeze. Superman arched his own body back, trying to break the hold. Angur's face reddened as he powered on the pressure.

Jimmy noticed Santa tapping the side of his nose, then pointing toward the ring. When Jimmy looked back at the fight, he saw that Angur's quads were growing bigger. And bigger. Veins sprouting up all over them. He turned to Santa and said, "Isn't that......"

"Cheating?" said Santa.

"Yes," answered Jimmy.

"Maybe a little," admitted Santa. "But I can't help it. I love seeing how frustrated Clark gets when he loses. Besides, it revs up the elves. And didn't Clark come here from another planet?"

"How strong did you make him?" Jimmy asked.

"Let's just say, if he put a lump of coal between those thighs, he could crush it into diamond," responded Santa.

Back in the ring, Superman's face was turning as blue as his suit as Angur's used those 40" coal-crushing quads on Superman's chest. He lifted Superman off the mat with his legs, then slammed him down. Then he lifted him up again, and pushed himself into a handstand, holding Superman overhead in his legs. He lifted one arm off the mat, and started doing one-handed pushups. After 20 reps, he lowered Clark to the mat. Then he twisted his leg hold around, grabbed Superman's arm, pulled it back across his chest, and arched back hard, pulling Superman's arm straight and bending it back.

"Arm bar!" said Santa. "It won't be long now."

And he was right. Within seconds, Superman was tapping out, unable to withstand the superhuman pressure being applied to his elbow joint. The bell rang, and Angur released the hold, pushed away from Superman, and jumped up in victory. The elves were going wild, some of them exchanging money from the side bets they had made. The massive Angur strut around the ring, flexing and posing his enormous muscles. Superman-crushing muscles. The big elf finally jumped over the top rope, landed on the arena floor, and made his was over to Santa's box. He stood there proudly, heaving with muscularity and power.

"Angur the Elf," said Santa, "you have won the match fair and square..more or less...and for that I am granting you one wish."

WIthout breaking eye contact with Santa, Angur said, "I want Jimmy."

"Granted," answered Santa, without a moment's pause.

"What?!" said Jimmy, stunned. "You can't just give me away as a present!"

"Oh, calm down," said the big man. "It's not like he gets to keep you forever. Just a couple hours. And tell me you don't want a piece of that?"

Jimmy looked at the hulking elf in front of him, his huge torso flush from battle and victory. Angur's steel blue eyes staring at him. His broad superstrong shoulders almost insanely wide, tapering down to his tiny singlet, soaked thru with elf sweat and highlighting a pouch of goods that had nothing elf-like about them. His 40" quads bulging out of the trunks like over-inflated balloons...except thick with snaking veins. Jimmy could practically smell the musk of the big elf from where he sat. As a bead of sweat rolled down to the tip of Angur's nose, he pursed his lips and blew it at Jimmy. It sprayed on Jimmy's face, and when he licked some of it off, it tasted like Candy Cane, Jimmy's favorite childhood Christmas treat.

"Holy smokes," groaned Jimmy.

"Can you handle it?" Santa asked.

Probably not, Jimmy thought, but what he said was, "Yes."

"Yes!" said Angur. He climbed up into the box, grabbed Jimmy by his armpits and lifted him up with ease. Then he threw Jimmy over his enormous shoulder, and waddled out of the arena.


Part 7

Angur carried Jimmy back to his bedroom and tossed him onto his bed. The massive elf had continued to grow since his defeat of Superman, and now stood 6'10", and weighed 490lbs. He towered over Jimmy like an supersized Marcus Ruhl. The striations on his huge pecs splayed up and down his chest, tight as piano wires. "You wanna feel?" he said to Jimmy. Jimmy stood up on the bed so he was face to face with him. He put his hands on Angur's chest, one hand on each super hard pec. "Did you see me beating on Superman back there?' the big elf said. Jimmy nodded his head, breathing too heavily to speak, as he rubbed his hands on the flawless, satin-smooth skin of the mega huge elf. Still drenched in sweat, Angur lifted his right arm,exposing the deepest muscle pit Jimmy had ever seen. Sweat ran down the elf's beefy lats in rivulets. Jimmy lowered his tongue onto one of the sweat streams and licked his way up to the pit. The thick viscous liquid tasted like the most intense candy cane Jimmy had ever sucked on. He buried his face in the muscle pit and breathed in the musky sweet essence of the powerful elf. When Angur brought his arm down onto the back of Jimmy's head, pinning his face in the sweaty armpit, Jimmy almost blew a load right there. But Angur pulled Jimmy's face out just in time. "Watch," he said to the reporter. He flexed his legs and glutes, and what was left of the tiny singlet he was wearing tore up the sides. It would have fallen off him, but his freak huge 40" quads trapped it between the inside of his legs. "Peel that off for me," he said to Jimmy. Jimmy got down on his knees on the bed, and bit down on a piece of the shredded singlet. He pulled back and unpeeled it from Angur's groin, and the elf's big uncut cock plopped out. "Oh yeah, nice move," Angur groaned, as Jimmy pulled harder, and the elf's ornament sized balls came free. The singlet finally pulled free of Angur's mega thighs, and Jimmy spat it down onto the floor. Angur's cock was throbbing in his face, so thick and heavy, it had an arch to it. Precum was already leaking out. "Suck it," said Angur, "it's magically delicious." He grabbed Jimmy's head and slowly lowered him down on his cock. "And don't worry, it won't gag you."

Jimmy was surprised to find that the big elf was right. Despite the fact that he took the big cock halfway down his throat, he didn't gag. It felt like he was getting a nice throat massage. The precum that started pumping out of the thick elf shaft tasted like eggnog, one of Jimmy's holiday favorites, and it made him suck even harder. Angur pumped Jimmy's head up and down, smooth and firmly, and then faster and faster. Jimmy fed off the pre with wild abandon. He braced his hands on the elf's superhuman thighs, and, between thrusts, breathed in the candy cane sweat. Right before Angur came, he pulled his cock head up into Jimmy's mouth. When he came, Jimmy felt the hot eggnog cum shoot down his throat, thick and creamy, the best nog he'd ever tasted. He sucked and sucked, and the nog just kept flowing, stream after stream pumping out of the massive muscle elf. Finally, after what felt like a quart or two, Angur pulled himself out of Jimmy's mouth. Jimmy sat back on the bed. "Wow," he said, wiping his mouth.

"You want more?," Angur asked, cupping his big balls in one hand and rolling them in his palm, "Or do you me to ride that hot ass of yours into dreamland?"

Jimmy's sphincter muscle twitched at the thought of that throbbing elf dick deeply embedded inside him. "Can you do something for me?" Jimmy asked.

"Anything you want," said Angur, flexing his abs into a 10pac of stacked brick.

"Can you shrink down to your normal size, then grow back to this size as you fuck me?"

"Love to," said Angur. He turned and walked over to the door, and Jimmy marveled at the extreme muscularity of his back and glutes as he moved. He pulled a big bolt lock across the door, latching it shut. "Don't want anyone walking in on this action," he said. As he turned to come back to the bed, he shrank back down, almost to the size that Jimmy first saw him at. He climbed onto the bed and pulled Jimmy's pants off as Jimmy stripped off his own shirt. Then Angur got on top of Jimmy, pushing him back and straddling him. "I never shrink back all the way after growing," he said. "I get bigger every time, which is fine with me," he added, as he flexed his now 5', 230lb fireplug muscle body. Jimmy could feel the dense weight of him pressing him deep into the mattress. Then the powerful elf flipped Jimmy's legs up and pinned them on the pillow, next to Jimmy's ears. "Now get ready for the ride of your life," said the cocky muscle elf. He lubed himself up with precum and sweat, then popped his head into Jimmy's hole, both of them moaning. He arched into Jimmy slowly, back and forth, loosening him up. After about a minute, he began to grow. Jimmy could feel the heat coming off the elf almost double. As the reporter held onto Angur's traps, he could feel them swell, like growing rock. Soon, Angur was face to face with Jimmy in the bed, and the two of them kissed. Jimmy, already rock hard, came for the first time, as Angur's open-mouth kiss tasted of sugarplum. They sucked each others' tongues until Angur grew above Jimmy's head. Jimmy kissed the thick elf neck as it came into view. He sucked more candy cane sweat off the nape, as the growing Angur began to pound him harder. The bed creaked and moved as Jimmy found his face pressed into the expanding chest canyon of the now 6' tall, 345lb muscle elf. Jimmy could feel the swelling cock inside him, the head now tapping into his prostate. Jimmy came for a second time, as Angur held himself deep inside him and waited till his cock had grown another inch longer and two inches thicker. The sheer massiveness on top of him made Jimmy quiver, as Angur grew to 6'5", 450 muscular pounds. The big elf braced himself with his huge arms on each side of Jimmy's head. Jimmy watched as the forearms swelled to 20+ inches, freaky with veins. Angur was drenched in sweat, and it poured off of him, dripping off his nipples into Jimmy's open mouth. When Angur lowered his huge left pec down onto Jimmy's face and pushed his sweaty nipple into Jimmy's mouth, Jimmy came for a third time. He sucked on the meaty nip, now big as his thumb, like it was an extra cock. It popped out of his mouth as Angur grew.

When he reached 6'11, 520lbs, Angur picked Jimmy up in his monster huge arms. Then the big elf got out of bed and stood up, holding Jimmy on his cock. He bounced Jimmy up and down on his massive shaft. Jimmy was hard as rock and leaking precum again. Angur hoisted him up and took his cock in his mouth. Holding Jimmy by the waist, he drained him of his 4th load. Jimmy almost passed out from the suction power of the big elf's mouth. Then Angur lowered Jimmy back down on his cock, planting into him deep, and letting go with his hands. Angur flexed his arms into a double bi, and the biceps rose up into triple peaks of 36" each. Even Angur was impressed with his insane size. With his cock the only thing holding Jimmy up, Angur came inside him, almost shooting him across the room with the force of the stream.

"Oh, baby love," said the sweaty beast elf," we are gonna do this all night long."

Ten hours later, a knock came at the door. "Up and at em, boys" bellowed Santa from outside. A few seconds later, Angur unbolted the door and opened it up. Back down to elf size, only now at 5'2, 240lbs, he had wrapped a pillow case around his tight waist. "Well, look at you,"said a bemused Santa. "Go get dressed, time to hitch up the reindeer," he said to Angur, who said, "oh shit," and waddled over to his closet. Santa walked over to the bed, and saw that the legs had broken off of it sometime during the night. "Good time?" he said to a ruddy faced Jimmy.

"The best," said Jimmy.

"You a believer now?" asked the big man, dressed in his full regalia.

"More than anyone could be," answered Jimmy.

"Well, then. Time for you to go. But before you do, close your eyes and make a wish."

Jimmy closed his eyes, and felt Santa's big hands cup his face. The reporter felt himself getting sleepier and sleepier. He made a wish right before he nodded off, and heard Santa saying, "See you next Christmas."

When he woke up, Jimmy was in his own bed, in his house in Venice Beach. His friend Jake was standing over him.

"Jake!" said Jimmy. "What are you doing here?"

"We got separated in the blizzard, remember?"

"The blizzard......oh yeah, on our way to the North Pole. All I remember is wandering around blindly and passing out in the snow. What happened?"

"I got lost until two musclebound eskimos found me and my dogs and led us to a local fishing village. Funny thing is, I never knew eskimos had pointy ears. Anyway, if it wasn't for Superman here, you might have never made it back. You were exhausted when you got back. Slept right thru Christmas."

"Superman?" said Jimmy, sitting up and looking past his friend, only to see the Man of Steel sitting in the corner chair of his bedroom. "Superman!" cried Jimmy. "You saved me?"

"Well, I flew you back here after everything was over. What do you remember exactly?"

"Now that you mention it, I do remember a strong hand lifting me up out of a snowbank right before I passed out. That must have been you! How did you get that black eye?"

"Nevermind that, Jimmy. You need your rest. I'll see Jake out, then I'm going to stay with you for awhile to make sure you're better."

"Gosh, thanks Superman," said Jimmy. As Superman walked Jake out of the bedroom, Jimmy got out of bed. He was in pajama bottoms and a tee shirt. He felt kind of crusty, like he hadn't had a shower in a long time. He walked down the hall to his bathroom, and yelled out "I'm gonna take a shower, OK?" "OK, Jimmy," answered Superman from the front porch.

Jimmy went into the bathroom and shut the door. He turned on the shower, and while he waited for the water to heat up, he looked in the mirror. He looked so scrawny and pale, especially next to Superman, and even his athletic friend Jake. "Gosh, I wish I was bigger," said Jimmy. And to his surprise, he began to grow. His shoulders spread out as he watched, and pulled the sleeves of his tee up to his delts. He watched as thick veins popped up, snaking down his arms, as his arms swelled with muscle. As he grew taller, the bottom of his tee pulled up, exposing ab muscle like he had never had. He felt his back pulling his shirt tight, and he crunched his shoulders forward, ripping the shirt down the back. Soon, Jimmy had to duck to see his face in the mirror. His jaw had squared off solidly, and was thick with stubble. He pulled off his ripped shirt and was taken aback with how thick his pecs were getting, veins branching across the top of them. His growing arms raised up as his lats pushed outward. HIs pits were growing thick hair, as was his chest. He undid his pj bottoms and stepped out of them. His legs were huge. He made the quad muscle dance and roll by twisting his foot up and around on the floor. "Oh my gosh," he said, then jumped at the sound of his voice, deep as thunder. He looked at the mirror, and saw a superheavyweight off-season musclehead in the reflection. He stroked his hairy mounding gut and marveled at the density of its thick ridges. Suddenly, memories started coming back to him. Something about a wish. And a big man in red.

Jimmy got into the shower, and soaped up his newly massive body. It felt so amazing under his hands. He stroked it and stroked it. It reminded him of something else. Something about an elf. Jimmy stroked his now-massive member, slick with soap, until it splattered all over the tile.

When he got out of the shower, he was even bigger, now closing in on 6'6, 370lbs. He toweled off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and waddled out into the living room. He saw a cane leaning against his small fireplace, and Superman on the sofa, reading the paper. When Superman looked up and saw Jimmy, he almost knocked the sofa over.

"Hello, Clark," said Jimmy. "Wanna rassle?"