Another one about Santa's reindeer getting huge, only this time they get swole! Rudolph is getting tired of his team getting soft, so he recruits exatron's Dan and johnpm995's Crystal and threaten them with permanent placement on the Naughty List if they don't help whip the team in shape in time for Christmas! Illustrated by cedricbrowning, who's enjoying the show much more than Santa.
Dan © exatron
Crystal © johnpm995
Artwork © cedricbrowning
Story © c'est moi
December 26th, the North Pole. After another harrowing run around the world in a single night, the nine most famous reindeer alive were unwinding in the canteen they always went to after their haul. Sauntering over for a well-deserved snack, one of them, with a very distinctive nose, approached the long-suffering cook. “So, what’s on the menu today, Francis?” the reindeer asked, leaning on the counter.
“Three guesses, Rudy.”
“Cookies and milk?” he sighed, resigned. “It’s all we ever eat.”
“I’ve always got carrots,” she shrugged. “None of you boys have taken any for a couple of years.” Francis gave Rudolph’s middle a pointed look. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
Rudolph arched his brow. “Thank you, Francis. Just give me a couple of peanut butter.”
The reindeer carried his plate of cookies back to a table being shared with Donner, Prancer, and Blitzen. Settling down, Rudolph sighed.
“Everything okay, Rudy?” Blitzen asked, a chocolate chunk cookie halfway in his mouth.
“Look, uh… you guys think we’re getting a little… out of shape? We’ve been eating nothing but milk and cookies for the past… what, fifty three years?”
“Hey,” Donner leaned forward, a sizeable belly spilling over the table. “No one can do what we do. We hit five hundred million homes across the world, twenty two million kids an hour!”
“Yeah, and the fact we have enough magic shoved up our butts by the big guy to go faster than the speed of light has nothing to do it. We’re just that naturally talented. Come on.” Rudolph leaned back, crossing his arms, resting atop his own butterball belly. “How many of us can still see our feet past our bodies?”
“That’s not fair, Santa puts us through Hell once November rolls around!” Prancer chimed in, trying to suck in a gut the size of a cauldron.
Rudolph rolled his eyes. “And we spend eleven months sitting on our asses eating nothing but milk and cookies! The kids leave carrots for us all the time, and we never eat those. Don’t you feel bad about that?”
“No!” Blitzen shot out defensively. He was the biggest at the table, with limbs caked in soft, doughy flesh, a flabby chest crowned by a second chin, and a round tankard of a gut, filling his lap.
“Besides, you have it easier than any of us, Rudy. You only get wheeled out when the big guy needs more PR,” Prancer added.
“This year I was added to the roster because Dasher got so big, he outgrew every single harness! I’m pretty sure he hasn’t moved from his spot since he got grounded December 1st.”
All four reindeer looked over their shoulders at Dasher, who had taken up a corner of the canteen. His fat-swaddled arms were resting atop the crest of a belly the size of a small hill, supported by hips and an ass so big, they couldn’t see the chair suffering under him. As he leaned forward to grab another cookie, his multiple chins bunching together, the audible groan of his chair was followed by a snap and a loud whump, as the obese reindeer’s sprawling girth jiggled like a bowl full of jelly.
“Aw…” he looked over to the others. “Hey, guys? It happened again…” he reached out for the plate on the table. “Could you pass the cookies over?”
Prancer blinked. “...Okay, so, Dasher took things a little too far, but… Rudy? Rudy! Where are you headed?”
“We’ve got three hundred, sixty two days ‘til our next big night, and I’m not going to make Santa look like the skinny one!”
Rudolph threw a jacket on and trudged through the snow to the workshop. The elves were all on leave; apparently they had all chipped in on a vacation home in Tahiti. He picked his way to the administrative offices, and then he found it; the List. Sometime ago, Mrs. Claus had insisted on modernizing, so the giant tomes that used to record the naughty and nice names had been retired in favor of a modern computer mainframe. Rudolph settled in and began looking over the “Nice” names. Surely, there had to be a physical fitness trainer on the nice list.
And after three hours, it was very clear there was not. Apparently Santa hadn’t forgiven the fitness industry for accusing him of increasing childhood obesity rates. The reindeer sighed, leaning back in the chair as he rubbed his famously red nose. “Okay… let’s see who’s on the Naughty list.” Bracing himself, he found a vast array of famous athletes, arranged alphabetically from Armstrong to Vick. Drumming his fingers on the desk, he resigned himself to two promising bodybuilders, and prepared himself for a bribe.
It took a few days for all the details to be smoothed out; but shortly after the New Year, Rudolph’s guests were being flown to the North Pole. Relaxing in his apartment, he was buzzed by the reindeer’s stable master, an elf named Hans. “Hey, Rudy, your guests are here! Get down here, or I’m putting the big one to work.”
Rudolph sighed, throwing on a red and green tracksuit that was more than a little snug, now, stretched over his butterball belly, then checked himself in the mirror, stroking back his shock of cocoa brown hair and making sure his antlers hadn’t caught anything before he rushed down to the lobby.
“Oh, holy night,” he murmured. He knew his two chosen trainers were big, but not this big. The first was Crystal Olivia, a five time Ms. Universe champion, and for two of those years, she had been noticeably bigger than Mr. Universe. A massive golden retriever, her luscious, fluffy golden coat did little to hide her rippling, diamond cut musculature, from her bulging golden biceps and vast back wide as a wheat field, to her thick, sweat pants-clad thighs to her massive pectorals, augmented further by a pair of lush, firm breasts. She wore a pink jacket that only just reached around her torso, the sleeves stretched to their limit over her arms. She wore a wide smile when she spotted Rudolph, nudging the other trainer next to her. “Oh my God. Look! It’s him, and he even has the nose!”
Crystal’s even bigger companion adjusted his glasses. Dan Bergstrom, a scientist with no official title in the bodybuilding world, but that was only because his reputation meant not many people were willing to go up against the gargantuan cheetah. Sun-kissed fur with brown spots was stretched tight over legs thicker than tree trunks, thighs bulging and rolling off of each other. They supported a body that dwarfed Rudolph, with spots warped over a torso sporting pecs the size of a sleigh, massive arms, and burgeoning shoulders that were eating at a neck nearly as thick as Rudolph’s belly.
“Well. I’ll be damned. I thought this was going to go down like a Nigerian Prince scam,” the cheetah quipped.
“So… wow. Wow!” Rudolph whistled low. “Welcome, both of you, to the North Pole. I’m Rudolph, and… I’d like you two to become the North Pole’s new fitness instructors.”
“Yeah, uh… what’s this about us both being on the naughty list?” Crystal asked, crossing her arms as her engorged biceps cut into her plush, overdeveloped chest. “I work a lot of charity events.”
“Well, let’s see…” Rudolph pulled out his tablet, filing through his Naughty and Nice app. “Crystal Olivia, permanent ‘Naughty’ designation… in 2014, you caught the guy you were dating with another girl, then suplexed his car.”
“He was cheating on me!” Crystal said defensively.
Rudolph arched his brow. “He was also still in the car. And Mr. Bergstrom, well…” the reindeer gave the cheetah a knowing smirk. “I’m sure the International Bodybuilding Confederation can tell us more about why you’re on the Naughty list.”
“Hey, nothing was ever proven, I wasn’t positive for anything on the ban list!”
“Look,” Rudolph held up his hands. “Here’s the deal. You’re both stuck on the Naughty list, unless someone,” he subtly pointed at himself, “convinces the big guy to let you off. Consider it… community service.”
“What exactly do you want?” Dan asked, his brow arched as he rolled his mountainous shoulders.
“I want you to train me,” Rudolph blurted out. “And the other reindeer. Look, you two are some of the best fitness gurus I could find, and me and the guys have been working one night a year, then spending the other eleven months sitting on our duffs, in the snow, with nothing to do but play with rejected gifts and eat… almost exclusively milk and cookies.”
“Well, I think I know what the problem is, then,” the cheetah rolled his eyes.
“So, wait,” Crystal cocked her head. “You want us to train you, and… we’ll get a present from Santa every Christmas, for good?”
“Well, you need to… not fold a car with someone inside again or appear suspicious to the IBC again,” Rudolph spread his arms. “But, yeah. Just whip me into shape.”
Crystal and Dan exchanged looks, nodding. “Want to see what we can do with this little ball of dough?” the golden retriever grinned tightly, clapping her hand on Rudolph’s shoulder, capturing him in her vice grip.
“I’ve done more with less,” Dan said, clamping down on the other shoulder.
“Hey, wait, I didn’t mean start right this sec— or now, now works good!” Rudolph gasped as he was carried away to the gym.
A week later, and Rudolph was praying for death. He was lying down spread eagle on the almost entirely unused gym floor, with Dan looming over him.
“Alright, good start.” The cheetah clapped his hands, biceps mashing into his chest. “Let’s get you on squats; we’ll get you on two hundred pounds, something light.”
Rudolph’s eyes bulged, fear gripping his overworked heart. “What?”
“Dan,” Crystal clicked her tongue as she picked the reindeer up as easily as if he were a discarded shirt, lightly tossing him over her boulder-sized shoulder. “You’re scaring him. C’mon, it’s time for lunch.”
Rudolph’s ears perked up. “Lunch?”
Crystal sat him down, and Rudolph’s face slipped at the offerings on his plate. They were lean slices of turkey, and a suspicious looking drink.
“It’s a protein shake,” Crystal explained. “Go ahead, I know you’ve got a Christmas… thing, so I made it eggnog flavored,” she grinned.
Rudolph looked at the the off-white beverage and dared a sip, and internally cringed; it tasted like she had mixed skim milk and raw eggs. Forcing a smile, his eyes watered as he nodded. “Tastes… great.”
The enormous canine smiled, her tail wagging, but Exatron arched his brow at the reindeer. “I think I’ll take over for dinner.”
The changing of seasons meant almost nothing in the North Pole, fluctuating between tons of snow and light flurries on a daily basis. But as last Christmas slipped further and further away, the other reindeer began to see a difference in Rudolph. When they were all in fighting shape, he had been small and lithe in comparison, but now, well, pound for pound, he was still smaller, but he could throw his weight around a lot better than any of them. He came in to the canteen, sauntering as he sported a shirt Crystal had recommended; apparently it made him cute, as it hugged his thickened shoulders, sleeves taut around his well-muscled arms. An easy-going, confident smile slid off, however, when he spotted the big man himself; Santa Claus.
“Ah, Rudolph, I was waiting for you,” the jolly old elf said, looking decidedly less jolly than usual. “I had a feeling you all would be here, sooner or later.”
Dasher belched, arms resting on his belly, now roughly the size of Santa in his entirety as it spread across the floor like a dropped Christmas Pudding; he hadn’t been allowed on the furniture for weeks, now. “What made you think that, Santa?”
Old St. Nick arched his brow, looking over the gluttonous mound of reindeer that made him look svelte in comparison. “Call it a lucky guess.” He sighed, massaging his temples. “Boys, look. You’ve been with me for a long time, and we’ve done marvelous things over the centuries. But…” Santa pursed his lips, eyes lingering on the guts hanging off every single one of his reindeer, minus Rudolph. Every one of them had gotten bigger than him. “...Times change. There’s more people every year, and the demands are just too much for our traditional operation. So, we’re going to try a more streamlined delivery system, a plane, maybe. Point is, no more sleigh. Now, I’m not asking you to leave. You’re not fired, you’re like family. Just… don’t worry about sleigh duty. We’ll figure something out for you all to do, promise. Now, erm… it’s February 14th, and if the Missus thinks I forgot Valentine’s again, I’m going to get a long lecture about how other holidays are important, too.” Santa sighed wearily, looking over his fattened crew, bellies like bowls of jelly all around. “Take care, boys.”
The old elf trudged back into the snow, leaving an ominous silence over the canteen. Rudolph was thunderstruck, his dream job snatched away from him after a scant twenty runs; storms on Christmas Eve came only so often.
“Well…” Blitzen leaned back, rubbing his snowman-sized gut. “We had a good run. Francis! Milk and cookies, all around!”
“Don’t skimp on the chocolate chips!” Cupid shouted.
“What?” Rudolph leaned on the table, slapping a cookie out of Cupid’s hand. “Are you all insane? We just lost our jobs! Is this all you want? Sitting in this canteen, eating cookies?”
“Rudy, what’s your problem? It was bound to happen, with all this modernization. You’re spending too much time with those muscle freaks. I never trusted that cheetah,” Dasher muttered, chins wobbling.
“What’ve you got against cheetahs?”
“They’re our natural predators!”
Rudolph stared at the nearly immobile reindeer. “Dasher, we come from Lapland. How many cheetahs do you think are running around there?” He shook his head. “Screw this. I’m getting our jobs back.”
“Good luck,” Donner muttered, already munching on a cookie. “The big guy’s stubborn. It took us a hundred years to convince him to drop the coal thing.”
Rudolph snorted, squaring his shoulders as he rushed into the snow. “Santa!”
He caught up to his boss just outside the workshop. “Santa, wait. You can’t just give up on the team, not like this.”
Santa shook his head. “Rudolph, I’m sorry, I’ve made up my mind. Look, you wised up, and you look great. Workouts are really paying off.” Kris Kringle grinned, punching Rudolph’s taut bicep. “But look at them all. Dasher hasn’t left the canteen in days. I can’t rely on a team if eight out of nine of them are so out of shape, they make me look fit. I love all my boys, Rudolph, but if I can’t rely on them, well… better to let them down now and not when we’re halfway over the Atlantic Ocean and one of them has a heart attack from over exertion.” Santa patted Rudolph’s shoulder, brow arching at how much muscle there was. “It’s not your fault. We’ll figure something for them to do, I promise.”
Rudolph’s mouth was left hanging open as Santa ducked inside. He was shocked; this was Santa. Santa never gave up on people. His mind was racing for a few minutes before a plan dawned on him. Steeling himself, Rudolph jogged through the snow to the gym, where Dan and Crystal were spotting each other on bench presses, weights jumping into the four digits as they forced more plates on to the beleaguered barbell.
“Guys?” The reindeer held up his chin, clenching his fists. Even after months, he was still dwarfed by the trainers. “I want you to push me. Hard. We need to save Christmas as we know it.”
It took a week before the other reindeer saw Rudolph again, but when he threw open the doors, he was easily twice the man they had seen when Santa had forced them all into retirement.
“Hey, boys,” Rudolph smirked. “How’s it hangin’?” The red-nosed cervine was truly huge now, with the physique most bodybuilders would have killed for. He towered over the other reindeer, now. He sported green shorts that straddled pillar-like legs that, judging by the muscle rippling under his short brown fur, were certainly hard as packed snow. His doughy teammates were cast in the shadow of his bulging chest, granite-like pecs filling his taut shirt. Grinning wide, Rudolph threw an arm around Blitzen’s rounded shoulders, pressing Blitzen’s fatty cheeks against soaring flanks while a cannonball bicep pressed the back of his head.
“R-Rudy?” Blitzen gasped, spitting out the cookie halfway in his mouth.
“I have an announcement, guys. We’re going to get our jobs back.”
“Look, Rudy, what makes you think we can change Santa’s mind?” Pranced demanded.
“Guys, look at me!” He paused to flex his arms over his head, thick cannonball biceps pressing up against his cheeks while his back exploded, sheer flanks like Christmas hams bulging out big as a horse-drawn sleigh. “I’m huge, and I got this way in mere months. You can all get this way, too! My trainers are freaking miracle workers.”
Dasher, his blubbery mass still sprawled across the floor, scoffed. “Yeah? And how do you expect to get us there? We’re just fine where we are, pimple snout!”
A smile slowly spread across Rudolph’s muzzle as he began lumbering towards the boulder-shaped reindeer.
“Dash, no…” Donner grumbled, shaking his antlers. Of all the names the reindeer had come up for Rudolph, Pimple snout was probably the one that rubbed Rudolph the most raw.
“What was that, Dash?” Rudolph asked in a deceptively calm tone, roughly prodding his gut, making it jiggle. “Or should it be Plush, now?” Rudolph frowned. “I’m sorry, that was the best I could come up with. But don’t worry, I’ll have time to think about it, at the gym.”
Dasher didn’t have time to respond as Rudolph’s rippling arms dug deep into the folds of his belly, finally get a hold on him. With a loud grunt, his broadside back rippled, flaring out as hundreds of Dasher’s blubbery pounds bared down on it. His thighs rippling and surging as his arms tensed. Looking like Atlas with the world on his shoulders, Rudolph began carrying his own planet-sized burden out of the canteen, splintering the door frame. He paused long enough to look back at the others. “I’m taking Dash here to the gym. Then I’m coming back for the rest of you. Don’t make it difficult, because Dash here’s really heavy, and if I have to do this again, it’s just going to make me mad.”
Blocking out Dasher’s mumbling protests as he trudged through the snow, Rudolph finally dropped his overgrown teammate on a gym mat.
“Hey, Crystal! You owe me five bucks!”
Dasher gulped. His belly pinning him face down, he couldn’t see who spoke, but they sounded big.
“Yeah! Our little Bambi just beat his own farmer’s walk record, by the looks of it.”
Rudolph scoffed. “You bet against me?”
Crystal chuckled, her rippling thighs rolling off each other as she sauntered over and patted the reindeer’s swollen chest. “You’re getting top-heavy, hon. Not that you don’t make it work. Dan agrees with me, but at least now I’m not the only one with a great rack, right?”
Rudolph’s nose shimmered a bit, red spreading to his cheeks. “H-heh, right.”
Dasher felt a clawed hand reach deep into his fat folds, yanking him upright. All the color drained from his round face as he was face to face with a monstrously huge cheetah, his meaty pecs fitting perfectly over the crest of his stomach as Dan smiled toothily. “Well. You’re Dasher, right? Look at you, you're just…” Dan took a hold of a fistful of fat hanging from the reindeer’s sides. “A mountain of potential, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’m going to help you re-discover muscles you forgot you had.”
Dasher gulped, eyes wide. “S-sounds great…”
The other reindeer had considerably more sense than Dasher; they didn’t need further prodding to join Rudolph in the gym. Soon, all eight reindeer were placed under Crystal’s thumb for their diets and cardio, then turned over to Dan who enthusiastically pushed them to their limits. The rest of the year passed by at a trudge at first, but soon, the reindeer proved adaptable. Even Dasher, who needed Dan’s particular brand of “encouragement” more than most. The cheetah picked up quickly; all he had to do was loom over the reindeer from behind, and lick his lips hungrily; that was enough to get the portly cervine moving again, no matter how tired he claimed to be.
Crystal overlooked her charges when December 24th rolled around again. The golden retriever had her own ways of getting the reindeer moving; even in the bleak midwinter, she wore a pair of hot pink shorts that hugged her wide hips and full, juicy behind, swaggering as the deer finished their cooldowns.
“Keep it up, Cupid,” she tickled the reindeer’s chin, her bicep swelling bigger than his head as he held a barbell above his tensed, beefy pecs. “You might just be able to lift at my level, now. And I’d love to see more of this cute chest fluff around here.”
“O-oh…” he blushed as he dropped the bar on the rack.
“Hey,” Rudolph called, dropping a massive barbell that left an indent in the floor. He locked arms with Crystal, one engorged bicep slamming against another. “I thought you wanted to see more of my chest fuzz. Crystal, I think you’re just a shameless flirt.”
The golden retriever smirked, blowing him a kiss. “You wanted me to get them into shape, right? They need motivation, and they can’t all be scared Dan’s going to eat them. Besides, they’re all coming along real nicely,” Crystal’s eyes drifted, admiring Prancer’s sizable glutes. She turned back, squeezing Rudolph’s heaving pecs. “Don’t worry, Big Red. I’ll only let you pull my sleigh tonight.” She winked.
“Never heard that one before,” Rudolph muttered, before putting his hands to his mouth. “Alright guys, hit the showers! I want everyone looking their best; we got one shot at this!”
The reindeer crowded into the lockers, preparing themselves for the best run of their careers, each of them stretching their huge, engorged muscles. Comet gave a relieved groan, rolling mountainous shoulders that swallowed up a neck so thick, and yet, so swallowed up by his massive body, that it was wider than it was long. Shaking his arms to loosen them up, Vixen bounced his pecs, two massive mounds as hard as fruitcake and thick as figgy pudding, those biceps rubbing against his chest. Even Dasher was radically transformed, going through his last stretch for his legs, flexing thighs that looked bigger than any Christmas tree trunk, rippling with hard-cut muscle, and shaking spherical calves that could fill more than a stocking or two. Before changing into his harness, Dancer’s only clothing was a pair of green shorts that looked like they had gift-wrapped his thighs, and a red muscle shirt that looked shrinkwrapped over his six, chimney-brick abs, and candy cane-thin straps strung taut over his swollen torso.
But then, Rudolph really outdid them all as he came stomping out of the showers, suited up for the run. His arms rippled as the reindeer tugged at his harness. The red leather was straining across his chest, drawn taut by a pectoral shelf that jutted over a foot past his glowing, red nose. The bulk had already caused a previous harness to rip after trying it on, sleigh bells flying as it tore. Heaving lats kept his arms propped up, biceps brushing the sides of his chest as he walked. His thighs rolled around each other, thicker than Christmas trees and certainly more sturdy as his quads swelled. If he made any quick movements it was almost certain that his sprawling back would decimate the harness. Just putting it on had required a pair of helping hands from a rather eager Crystal, his sheer girth making it impossible for him to reach much of his back, or swat the canine away when she goosed his beefy glutes.
“Alright, look at you all!” Dan looked over the reindeer as if he was reviewing troops. The hulking cheetah even deigned to wear a Santa hat for the occasion, the rest of his body rippling. He and Crystal still loomed over most of the reindeer, but they had outdone themselves with Rudolph, who now outweighed his trainers. “You’re going to go out there, and kick some ass!” Dan shouted, pumping his arm as his bicep mashed against his mountainous shoulder, bouncing his pecs as it stretched his spotted pelt. “Crystal and I had no idea we’d be in Santa’s workshop for an extended stay, but, y’know, this is easily the most memorable training session we’ve been through and the most successful, barring that time I confused an elf for a dumbbell. Merry Christmas, guys.”
“We’ve got over six hundred million homes to hit, and more than a billion kids, and we’re not going to let any of them down, right?” Rudolph threw open the doors, marching into the snow.
“Let’s remind the boss just how he hit every single one of those homes for centuries!”
The herd of lumbering, musclebound reindeer forced their way through Santa’s workshop, marching towards the sleigh as Santa was getting ready, the old elf looking more like a dwarf as his crew dwarfed him to a man.
“Santa, we think you’re making a mistake!” Rudolph said. “We’re a team, and we worked really hard to get back into fighting shape.” On cue, each deer struck a pose. Rudolph for his part flexed one arm, ham-sized forearms curling around a mountainous bicep as he stretched the other arm out in a victory pose, his nose shimmering with pride as it helped illuminate the deep crevices of his canyon-like pecs and the sheer size and bulk of his engorged flanks, surging at his sides. Dasher flexed his legs, burgeoning thighs tearing and fraying the edges of his tight shorts with quadriceps thicker than most people’s waists. Prancer hunched into a crab flex, his oversized chest and biceps jostling each other for more room, while Vixen stuck with a traditional double bicep pose, merely shifting his mammoth arm slightly to the side to kiss the heaving crest of his bicep.
“You done showboating?” Santa asked, looking not nearly as surprised as Rudolph had hoped. “I know you’re worthy, now get in formation! It’s Christmas Eve!”
The reindeer stared at him. “I… kinda thought you’d need more convincing than that.”
Santa chuckled, patting Rudolph’s enormous lats. “I’ve seen you boys hard at work, and I’m proud. I see you all when you’re sleeping, and I know when you’re awake. Did you really think this would surprise me, when you’re all living right next door?”
“Well, it’s just… I had this whole moment prepared, and…”
Santa sighed, holding up his hand. “Let me see if I can fix this. Rudolph, with your muscles so big and grand, won’t you, uh… give me a hand?”
The red-nosed reindeer huffed. “That’s your best shot?”
“I’m Santa Claus, Rudolph, not Thomas Nash. Now will you all stop admiring yourselves and get ready? The children are waiting!”
“But… were you really going to fire us before?” Comet piped up from the back.
Santa shook his head. “Ah, come on, now. I only wanted to motivate you a little. You’re like family, boys. Even if you didn’t pull my sleigh, it’s not like I was going to kick you out of the North Pole.” He held open his arms. “Now, come here, all of you. It’s Christmas, there’s plenty of love to go around.”
Rudolph grinned, lifting the fat, jolly saint effortlessly, biceps digging into Santa’s sides as his pecs pressed deep into his belly. The others joined in, a sheer ocean of titanic muscle enveloping Santa entirely.
“H-ho,ho, that’s enough, boys,” Santa gasped, strained for breath. “We’re almost late!”
Rudolph exchanged looks with the other reindeer, slowly smirking. “Alright, but we got one condition of our own.”
Santa arched his brow. “...What’s that?”
Rudolph tightened his grip a little; not enough to hurt Santa, but enough to let him know that this wasn’t up for debate. “Well, it seems to me you’re the one who stands out, now. And I think Mrs. Claus would appreciate you getting into shape. After tonight, you’re going to join us in the gym. And we’re not gonna let you out until you can bench press your own sleigh.”
“But… I’m Santa Claus! I’m literally known for being fat and jolly!”
“Well, now you can be happy and hunky.” Rudolph slung Santa over his mountainous shoulder, giving the old elf a view of his vast, rippling back vast as a craggily glacier, sauntering over to the sleigh as he readied his harness at the lead. “Consider it your New Year’s resolution. A merry workout for all, and to all a good pump.”
Dan © exatron
Crystal © johnpm995
Artwork © cedricbrowning
Story © c'est moi
December 26th, the North Pole. After another harrowing run around the world in a single night, the nine most famous reindeer alive were unwinding in the canteen they always went to after their haul. Sauntering over for a well-deserved snack, one of them, with a very distinctive nose, approached the long-suffering cook. “So, what’s on the menu today, Francis?” the reindeer asked, leaning on the counter.
“Three guesses, Rudy.”
“Cookies and milk?” he sighed, resigned. “It’s all we ever eat.”
“I’ve always got carrots,” she shrugged. “None of you boys have taken any for a couple of years.” Francis gave Rudolph’s middle a pointed look. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
Rudolph arched his brow. “Thank you, Francis. Just give me a couple of peanut butter.”
The reindeer carried his plate of cookies back to a table being shared with Donner, Prancer, and Blitzen. Settling down, Rudolph sighed.
“Everything okay, Rudy?” Blitzen asked, a chocolate chunk cookie halfway in his mouth.
“Look, uh… you guys think we’re getting a little… out of shape? We’ve been eating nothing but milk and cookies for the past… what, fifty three years?”
“Hey,” Donner leaned forward, a sizeable belly spilling over the table. “No one can do what we do. We hit five hundred million homes across the world, twenty two million kids an hour!”
“Yeah, and the fact we have enough magic shoved up our butts by the big guy to go faster than the speed of light has nothing to do it. We’re just that naturally talented. Come on.” Rudolph leaned back, crossing his arms, resting atop his own butterball belly. “How many of us can still see our feet past our bodies?”
“That’s not fair, Santa puts us through Hell once November rolls around!” Prancer chimed in, trying to suck in a gut the size of a cauldron.
Rudolph rolled his eyes. “And we spend eleven months sitting on our asses eating nothing but milk and cookies! The kids leave carrots for us all the time, and we never eat those. Don’t you feel bad about that?”
“No!” Blitzen shot out defensively. He was the biggest at the table, with limbs caked in soft, doughy flesh, a flabby chest crowned by a second chin, and a round tankard of a gut, filling his lap.
“Besides, you have it easier than any of us, Rudy. You only get wheeled out when the big guy needs more PR,” Prancer added.
“This year I was added to the roster because Dasher got so big, he outgrew every single harness! I’m pretty sure he hasn’t moved from his spot since he got grounded December 1st.”
All four reindeer looked over their shoulders at Dasher, who had taken up a corner of the canteen. His fat-swaddled arms were resting atop the crest of a belly the size of a small hill, supported by hips and an ass so big, they couldn’t see the chair suffering under him. As he leaned forward to grab another cookie, his multiple chins bunching together, the audible groan of his chair was followed by a snap and a loud whump, as the obese reindeer’s sprawling girth jiggled like a bowl full of jelly.
“Aw…” he looked over to the others. “Hey, guys? It happened again…” he reached out for the plate on the table. “Could you pass the cookies over?”
Prancer blinked. “...Okay, so, Dasher took things a little too far, but… Rudy? Rudy! Where are you headed?”
“We’ve got three hundred, sixty two days ‘til our next big night, and I’m not going to make Santa look like the skinny one!”
Rudolph threw a jacket on and trudged through the snow to the workshop. The elves were all on leave; apparently they had all chipped in on a vacation home in Tahiti. He picked his way to the administrative offices, and then he found it; the List. Sometime ago, Mrs. Claus had insisted on modernizing, so the giant tomes that used to record the naughty and nice names had been retired in favor of a modern computer mainframe. Rudolph settled in and began looking over the “Nice” names. Surely, there had to be a physical fitness trainer on the nice list.
And after three hours, it was very clear there was not. Apparently Santa hadn’t forgiven the fitness industry for accusing him of increasing childhood obesity rates. The reindeer sighed, leaning back in the chair as he rubbed his famously red nose. “Okay… let’s see who’s on the Naughty list.” Bracing himself, he found a vast array of famous athletes, arranged alphabetically from Armstrong to Vick. Drumming his fingers on the desk, he resigned himself to two promising bodybuilders, and prepared himself for a bribe.
It took a few days for all the details to be smoothed out; but shortly after the New Year, Rudolph’s guests were being flown to the North Pole. Relaxing in his apartment, he was buzzed by the reindeer’s stable master, an elf named Hans. “Hey, Rudy, your guests are here! Get down here, or I’m putting the big one to work.”
Rudolph sighed, throwing on a red and green tracksuit that was more than a little snug, now, stretched over his butterball belly, then checked himself in the mirror, stroking back his shock of cocoa brown hair and making sure his antlers hadn’t caught anything before he rushed down to the lobby.
“Oh, holy night,” he murmured. He knew his two chosen trainers were big, but not this big. The first was Crystal Olivia, a five time Ms. Universe champion, and for two of those years, she had been noticeably bigger than Mr. Universe. A massive golden retriever, her luscious, fluffy golden coat did little to hide her rippling, diamond cut musculature, from her bulging golden biceps and vast back wide as a wheat field, to her thick, sweat pants-clad thighs to her massive pectorals, augmented further by a pair of lush, firm breasts. She wore a pink jacket that only just reached around her torso, the sleeves stretched to their limit over her arms. She wore a wide smile when she spotted Rudolph, nudging the other trainer next to her. “Oh my God. Look! It’s him, and he even has the nose!”
Crystal’s even bigger companion adjusted his glasses. Dan Bergstrom, a scientist with no official title in the bodybuilding world, but that was only because his reputation meant not many people were willing to go up against the gargantuan cheetah. Sun-kissed fur with brown spots was stretched tight over legs thicker than tree trunks, thighs bulging and rolling off of each other. They supported a body that dwarfed Rudolph, with spots warped over a torso sporting pecs the size of a sleigh, massive arms, and burgeoning shoulders that were eating at a neck nearly as thick as Rudolph’s belly.
“Well. I’ll be damned. I thought this was going to go down like a Nigerian Prince scam,” the cheetah quipped.
“So… wow. Wow!” Rudolph whistled low. “Welcome, both of you, to the North Pole. I’m Rudolph, and… I’d like you two to become the North Pole’s new fitness instructors.”
“Yeah, uh… what’s this about us both being on the naughty list?” Crystal asked, crossing her arms as her engorged biceps cut into her plush, overdeveloped chest. “I work a lot of charity events.”
“Well, let’s see…” Rudolph pulled out his tablet, filing through his Naughty and Nice app. “Crystal Olivia, permanent ‘Naughty’ designation… in 2014, you caught the guy you were dating with another girl, then suplexed his car.”
“He was cheating on me!” Crystal said defensively.
Rudolph arched his brow. “He was also still in the car. And Mr. Bergstrom, well…” the reindeer gave the cheetah a knowing smirk. “I’m sure the International Bodybuilding Confederation can tell us more about why you’re on the Naughty list.”
“Hey, nothing was ever proven, I wasn’t positive for anything on the ban list!”
“Look,” Rudolph held up his hands. “Here’s the deal. You’re both stuck on the Naughty list, unless someone,” he subtly pointed at himself, “convinces the big guy to let you off. Consider it… community service.”
“What exactly do you want?” Dan asked, his brow arched as he rolled his mountainous shoulders.
“I want you to train me,” Rudolph blurted out. “And the other reindeer. Look, you two are some of the best fitness gurus I could find, and me and the guys have been working one night a year, then spending the other eleven months sitting on our duffs, in the snow, with nothing to do but play with rejected gifts and eat… almost exclusively milk and cookies.”
“Well, I think I know what the problem is, then,” the cheetah rolled his eyes.
“So, wait,” Crystal cocked her head. “You want us to train you, and… we’ll get a present from Santa every Christmas, for good?”
“Well, you need to… not fold a car with someone inside again or appear suspicious to the IBC again,” Rudolph spread his arms. “But, yeah. Just whip me into shape.”
Crystal and Dan exchanged looks, nodding. “Want to see what we can do with this little ball of dough?” the golden retriever grinned tightly, clapping her hand on Rudolph’s shoulder, capturing him in her vice grip.
“I’ve done more with less,” Dan said, clamping down on the other shoulder.
“Hey, wait, I didn’t mean start right this sec— or now, now works good!” Rudolph gasped as he was carried away to the gym.
A week later, and Rudolph was praying for death. He was lying down spread eagle on the almost entirely unused gym floor, with Dan looming over him.
“Alright, good start.” The cheetah clapped his hands, biceps mashing into his chest. “Let’s get you on squats; we’ll get you on two hundred pounds, something light.”
Rudolph’s eyes bulged, fear gripping his overworked heart. “What?”
“Dan,” Crystal clicked her tongue as she picked the reindeer up as easily as if he were a discarded shirt, lightly tossing him over her boulder-sized shoulder. “You’re scaring him. C’mon, it’s time for lunch.”
Rudolph’s ears perked up. “Lunch?”
Crystal sat him down, and Rudolph’s face slipped at the offerings on his plate. They were lean slices of turkey, and a suspicious looking drink.
“It’s a protein shake,” Crystal explained. “Go ahead, I know you’ve got a Christmas… thing, so I made it eggnog flavored,” she grinned.
Rudolph looked at the the off-white beverage and dared a sip, and internally cringed; it tasted like she had mixed skim milk and raw eggs. Forcing a smile, his eyes watered as he nodded. “Tastes… great.”
The enormous canine smiled, her tail wagging, but Exatron arched his brow at the reindeer. “I think I’ll take over for dinner.”
The changing of seasons meant almost nothing in the North Pole, fluctuating between tons of snow and light flurries on a daily basis. But as last Christmas slipped further and further away, the other reindeer began to see a difference in Rudolph. When they were all in fighting shape, he had been small and lithe in comparison, but now, well, pound for pound, he was still smaller, but he could throw his weight around a lot better than any of them. He came in to the canteen, sauntering as he sported a shirt Crystal had recommended; apparently it made him cute, as it hugged his thickened shoulders, sleeves taut around his well-muscled arms. An easy-going, confident smile slid off, however, when he spotted the big man himself; Santa Claus.
“Ah, Rudolph, I was waiting for you,” the jolly old elf said, looking decidedly less jolly than usual. “I had a feeling you all would be here, sooner or later.”
Dasher belched, arms resting on his belly, now roughly the size of Santa in his entirety as it spread across the floor like a dropped Christmas Pudding; he hadn’t been allowed on the furniture for weeks, now. “What made you think that, Santa?”
Old St. Nick arched his brow, looking over the gluttonous mound of reindeer that made him look svelte in comparison. “Call it a lucky guess.” He sighed, massaging his temples. “Boys, look. You’ve been with me for a long time, and we’ve done marvelous things over the centuries. But…” Santa pursed his lips, eyes lingering on the guts hanging off every single one of his reindeer, minus Rudolph. Every one of them had gotten bigger than him. “...Times change. There’s more people every year, and the demands are just too much for our traditional operation. So, we’re going to try a more streamlined delivery system, a plane, maybe. Point is, no more sleigh. Now, I’m not asking you to leave. You’re not fired, you’re like family. Just… don’t worry about sleigh duty. We’ll figure something out for you all to do, promise. Now, erm… it’s February 14th, and if the Missus thinks I forgot Valentine’s again, I’m going to get a long lecture about how other holidays are important, too.” Santa sighed wearily, looking over his fattened crew, bellies like bowls of jelly all around. “Take care, boys.”
The old elf trudged back into the snow, leaving an ominous silence over the canteen. Rudolph was thunderstruck, his dream job snatched away from him after a scant twenty runs; storms on Christmas Eve came only so often.
“Well…” Blitzen leaned back, rubbing his snowman-sized gut. “We had a good run. Francis! Milk and cookies, all around!”
“Don’t skimp on the chocolate chips!” Cupid shouted.
“What?” Rudolph leaned on the table, slapping a cookie out of Cupid’s hand. “Are you all insane? We just lost our jobs! Is this all you want? Sitting in this canteen, eating cookies?”
“Rudy, what’s your problem? It was bound to happen, with all this modernization. You’re spending too much time with those muscle freaks. I never trusted that cheetah,” Dasher muttered, chins wobbling.
“What’ve you got against cheetahs?”
“They’re our natural predators!”
Rudolph stared at the nearly immobile reindeer. “Dasher, we come from Lapland. How many cheetahs do you think are running around there?” He shook his head. “Screw this. I’m getting our jobs back.”
“Good luck,” Donner muttered, already munching on a cookie. “The big guy’s stubborn. It took us a hundred years to convince him to drop the coal thing.”
Rudolph snorted, squaring his shoulders as he rushed into the snow. “Santa!”
He caught up to his boss just outside the workshop. “Santa, wait. You can’t just give up on the team, not like this.”
Santa shook his head. “Rudolph, I’m sorry, I’ve made up my mind. Look, you wised up, and you look great. Workouts are really paying off.” Kris Kringle grinned, punching Rudolph’s taut bicep. “But look at them all. Dasher hasn’t left the canteen in days. I can’t rely on a team if eight out of nine of them are so out of shape, they make me look fit. I love all my boys, Rudolph, but if I can’t rely on them, well… better to let them down now and not when we’re halfway over the Atlantic Ocean and one of them has a heart attack from over exertion.” Santa patted Rudolph’s shoulder, brow arching at how much muscle there was. “It’s not your fault. We’ll figure something for them to do, I promise.”
Rudolph’s mouth was left hanging open as Santa ducked inside. He was shocked; this was Santa. Santa never gave up on people. His mind was racing for a few minutes before a plan dawned on him. Steeling himself, Rudolph jogged through the snow to the gym, where Dan and Crystal were spotting each other on bench presses, weights jumping into the four digits as they forced more plates on to the beleaguered barbell.
“Guys?” The reindeer held up his chin, clenching his fists. Even after months, he was still dwarfed by the trainers. “I want you to push me. Hard. We need to save Christmas as we know it.”
It took a week before the other reindeer saw Rudolph again, but when he threw open the doors, he was easily twice the man they had seen when Santa had forced them all into retirement.
“Hey, boys,” Rudolph smirked. “How’s it hangin’?” The red-nosed cervine was truly huge now, with the physique most bodybuilders would have killed for. He towered over the other reindeer, now. He sported green shorts that straddled pillar-like legs that, judging by the muscle rippling under his short brown fur, were certainly hard as packed snow. His doughy teammates were cast in the shadow of his bulging chest, granite-like pecs filling his taut shirt. Grinning wide, Rudolph threw an arm around Blitzen’s rounded shoulders, pressing Blitzen’s fatty cheeks against soaring flanks while a cannonball bicep pressed the back of his head.
“R-Rudy?” Blitzen gasped, spitting out the cookie halfway in his mouth.
“I have an announcement, guys. We’re going to get our jobs back.”
“Look, Rudy, what makes you think we can change Santa’s mind?” Pranced demanded.
“Guys, look at me!” He paused to flex his arms over his head, thick cannonball biceps pressing up against his cheeks while his back exploded, sheer flanks like Christmas hams bulging out big as a horse-drawn sleigh. “I’m huge, and I got this way in mere months. You can all get this way, too! My trainers are freaking miracle workers.”
Dasher, his blubbery mass still sprawled across the floor, scoffed. “Yeah? And how do you expect to get us there? We’re just fine where we are, pimple snout!”
A smile slowly spread across Rudolph’s muzzle as he began lumbering towards the boulder-shaped reindeer.
“Dash, no…” Donner grumbled, shaking his antlers. Of all the names the reindeer had come up for Rudolph, Pimple snout was probably the one that rubbed Rudolph the most raw.
“What was that, Dash?” Rudolph asked in a deceptively calm tone, roughly prodding his gut, making it jiggle. “Or should it be Plush, now?” Rudolph frowned. “I’m sorry, that was the best I could come up with. But don’t worry, I’ll have time to think about it, at the gym.”
Dasher didn’t have time to respond as Rudolph’s rippling arms dug deep into the folds of his belly, finally get a hold on him. With a loud grunt, his broadside back rippled, flaring out as hundreds of Dasher’s blubbery pounds bared down on it. His thighs rippling and surging as his arms tensed. Looking like Atlas with the world on his shoulders, Rudolph began carrying his own planet-sized burden out of the canteen, splintering the door frame. He paused long enough to look back at the others. “I’m taking Dash here to the gym. Then I’m coming back for the rest of you. Don’t make it difficult, because Dash here’s really heavy, and if I have to do this again, it’s just going to make me mad.”
Blocking out Dasher’s mumbling protests as he trudged through the snow, Rudolph finally dropped his overgrown teammate on a gym mat.
“Hey, Crystal! You owe me five bucks!”
Dasher gulped. His belly pinning him face down, he couldn’t see who spoke, but they sounded big.
“Yeah! Our little Bambi just beat his own farmer’s walk record, by the looks of it.”
Rudolph scoffed. “You bet against me?”
Crystal chuckled, her rippling thighs rolling off each other as she sauntered over and patted the reindeer’s swollen chest. “You’re getting top-heavy, hon. Not that you don’t make it work. Dan agrees with me, but at least now I’m not the only one with a great rack, right?”
Rudolph’s nose shimmered a bit, red spreading to his cheeks. “H-heh, right.”
Dasher felt a clawed hand reach deep into his fat folds, yanking him upright. All the color drained from his round face as he was face to face with a monstrously huge cheetah, his meaty pecs fitting perfectly over the crest of his stomach as Dan smiled toothily. “Well. You’re Dasher, right? Look at you, you're just…” Dan took a hold of a fistful of fat hanging from the reindeer’s sides. “A mountain of potential, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’m going to help you re-discover muscles you forgot you had.”
Dasher gulped, eyes wide. “S-sounds great…”
The other reindeer had considerably more sense than Dasher; they didn’t need further prodding to join Rudolph in the gym. Soon, all eight reindeer were placed under Crystal’s thumb for their diets and cardio, then turned over to Dan who enthusiastically pushed them to their limits. The rest of the year passed by at a trudge at first, but soon, the reindeer proved adaptable. Even Dasher, who needed Dan’s particular brand of “encouragement” more than most. The cheetah picked up quickly; all he had to do was loom over the reindeer from behind, and lick his lips hungrily; that was enough to get the portly cervine moving again, no matter how tired he claimed to be.
Crystal overlooked her charges when December 24th rolled around again. The golden retriever had her own ways of getting the reindeer moving; even in the bleak midwinter, she wore a pair of hot pink shorts that hugged her wide hips and full, juicy behind, swaggering as the deer finished their cooldowns.
“Keep it up, Cupid,” she tickled the reindeer’s chin, her bicep swelling bigger than his head as he held a barbell above his tensed, beefy pecs. “You might just be able to lift at my level, now. And I’d love to see more of this cute chest fluff around here.”
“O-oh…” he blushed as he dropped the bar on the rack.
“Hey,” Rudolph called, dropping a massive barbell that left an indent in the floor. He locked arms with Crystal, one engorged bicep slamming against another. “I thought you wanted to see more of my chest fuzz. Crystal, I think you’re just a shameless flirt.”
The golden retriever smirked, blowing him a kiss. “You wanted me to get them into shape, right? They need motivation, and they can’t all be scared Dan’s going to eat them. Besides, they’re all coming along real nicely,” Crystal’s eyes drifted, admiring Prancer’s sizable glutes. She turned back, squeezing Rudolph’s heaving pecs. “Don’t worry, Big Red. I’ll only let you pull my sleigh tonight.” She winked.
“Never heard that one before,” Rudolph muttered, before putting his hands to his mouth. “Alright guys, hit the showers! I want everyone looking their best; we got one shot at this!”
The reindeer crowded into the lockers, preparing themselves for the best run of their careers, each of them stretching their huge, engorged muscles. Comet gave a relieved groan, rolling mountainous shoulders that swallowed up a neck so thick, and yet, so swallowed up by his massive body, that it was wider than it was long. Shaking his arms to loosen them up, Vixen bounced his pecs, two massive mounds as hard as fruitcake and thick as figgy pudding, those biceps rubbing against his chest. Even Dasher was radically transformed, going through his last stretch for his legs, flexing thighs that looked bigger than any Christmas tree trunk, rippling with hard-cut muscle, and shaking spherical calves that could fill more than a stocking or two. Before changing into his harness, Dancer’s only clothing was a pair of green shorts that looked like they had gift-wrapped his thighs, and a red muscle shirt that looked shrinkwrapped over his six, chimney-brick abs, and candy cane-thin straps strung taut over his swollen torso.
But then, Rudolph really outdid them all as he came stomping out of the showers, suited up for the run. His arms rippled as the reindeer tugged at his harness. The red leather was straining across his chest, drawn taut by a pectoral shelf that jutted over a foot past his glowing, red nose. The bulk had already caused a previous harness to rip after trying it on, sleigh bells flying as it tore. Heaving lats kept his arms propped up, biceps brushing the sides of his chest as he walked. His thighs rolled around each other, thicker than Christmas trees and certainly more sturdy as his quads swelled. If he made any quick movements it was almost certain that his sprawling back would decimate the harness. Just putting it on had required a pair of helping hands from a rather eager Crystal, his sheer girth making it impossible for him to reach much of his back, or swat the canine away when she goosed his beefy glutes.
“Alright, look at you all!” Dan looked over the reindeer as if he was reviewing troops. The hulking cheetah even deigned to wear a Santa hat for the occasion, the rest of his body rippling. He and Crystal still loomed over most of the reindeer, but they had outdone themselves with Rudolph, who now outweighed his trainers. “You’re going to go out there, and kick some ass!” Dan shouted, pumping his arm as his bicep mashed against his mountainous shoulder, bouncing his pecs as it stretched his spotted pelt. “Crystal and I had no idea we’d be in Santa’s workshop for an extended stay, but, y’know, this is easily the most memorable training session we’ve been through and the most successful, barring that time I confused an elf for a dumbbell. Merry Christmas, guys.”
“We’ve got over six hundred million homes to hit, and more than a billion kids, and we’re not going to let any of them down, right?” Rudolph threw open the doors, marching into the snow.
“Let’s remind the boss just how he hit every single one of those homes for centuries!”
The herd of lumbering, musclebound reindeer forced their way through Santa’s workshop, marching towards the sleigh as Santa was getting ready, the old elf looking more like a dwarf as his crew dwarfed him to a man.
“Santa, we think you’re making a mistake!” Rudolph said. “We’re a team, and we worked really hard to get back into fighting shape.” On cue, each deer struck a pose. Rudolph for his part flexed one arm, ham-sized forearms curling around a mountainous bicep as he stretched the other arm out in a victory pose, his nose shimmering with pride as it helped illuminate the deep crevices of his canyon-like pecs and the sheer size and bulk of his engorged flanks, surging at his sides. Dasher flexed his legs, burgeoning thighs tearing and fraying the edges of his tight shorts with quadriceps thicker than most people’s waists. Prancer hunched into a crab flex, his oversized chest and biceps jostling each other for more room, while Vixen stuck with a traditional double bicep pose, merely shifting his mammoth arm slightly to the side to kiss the heaving crest of his bicep.
“You done showboating?” Santa asked, looking not nearly as surprised as Rudolph had hoped. “I know you’re worthy, now get in formation! It’s Christmas Eve!”
The reindeer stared at him. “I… kinda thought you’d need more convincing than that.”
Santa chuckled, patting Rudolph’s enormous lats. “I’ve seen you boys hard at work, and I’m proud. I see you all when you’re sleeping, and I know when you’re awake. Did you really think this would surprise me, when you’re all living right next door?”
“Well, it’s just… I had this whole moment prepared, and…”
Santa sighed, holding up his hand. “Let me see if I can fix this. Rudolph, with your muscles so big and grand, won’t you, uh… give me a hand?”
The red-nosed reindeer huffed. “That’s your best shot?”
“I’m Santa Claus, Rudolph, not Thomas Nash. Now will you all stop admiring yourselves and get ready? The children are waiting!”
“But… were you really going to fire us before?” Comet piped up from the back.
Santa shook his head. “Ah, come on, now. I only wanted to motivate you a little. You’re like family, boys. Even if you didn’t pull my sleigh, it’s not like I was going to kick you out of the North Pole.” He held open his arms. “Now, come here, all of you. It’s Christmas, there’s plenty of love to go around.”
Rudolph grinned, lifting the fat, jolly saint effortlessly, biceps digging into Santa’s sides as his pecs pressed deep into his belly. The others joined in, a sheer ocean of titanic muscle enveloping Santa entirely.
“H-ho,ho, that’s enough, boys,” Santa gasped, strained for breath. “We’re almost late!”
Rudolph exchanged looks with the other reindeer, slowly smirking. “Alright, but we got one condition of our own.”
Santa arched his brow. “...What’s that?”
Rudolph tightened his grip a little; not enough to hurt Santa, but enough to let him know that this wasn’t up for debate. “Well, it seems to me you’re the one who stands out, now. And I think Mrs. Claus would appreciate you getting into shape. After tonight, you’re going to join us in the gym. And we’re not gonna let you out until you can bench press your own sleigh.”
“But… I’m Santa Claus! I’m literally known for being fat and jolly!”
“Well, now you can be happy and hunky.” Rudolph slung Santa over his mountainous shoulder, giving the old elf a view of his vast, rippling back vast as a craggily glacier, sauntering over to the sleigh as he readied his harness at the lead. “Consider it your New Year’s resolution. A merry workout for all, and to all a good pump.”
Category Story / Muscle
Species Cervine (Other)
Gender Male
Size 1280 x 853px
Listed in Folders
Not bad. Although the typos were a little distracting.
And now I'm just imagining a more Christmas-y version of that Spaceballs scene where they hit Ludicrous speed, with Santa holding on for dear life as the sleigh goes to plaid.
Can't wait to see how huge the reindeer will get when Santa gets to bodybuilder shape
Perfect muscle growth romp for the Christmas holiday. Glad that everyone gets in on the fun!
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