Milk and Cookies [xwg]

Chapter 1 - Meeting Claus

This story contains Holiday-Themed Immobility, Sex and Possessive Language. Reader Discretion Advised & Happy Holidays Everyone!!! 🎅🎄🌟



Twas the night before Christmas

and all through the living room

A little girl was stirring

Waiting for Santa with gloom;



“He’s got to be real,

He’s got to be here!”

The little girl held her camera

Hidden anywhere but near



The clock struck midnight

Beaming in anticipation

As the little girl looked and looked

With feelings of deflation



“Maybe he’s not real,

Maybe brother was right.”

As the little girl stow her camera

For another Christmas night.



Then, she heard a sound

Rustling above her roof!

“That’s gotta be Santa,

That’s gotta be proof!”



She hid behind the stairs

Camera pointed at the chimney

Then, a man in a red suit

Climbed down with whimsey.



She couldn’t believe her eyes

Santa’s real in the flesh!

But something was different about Santa

Maybe it’s his dress?



No, he’s still got the red outfit

But where’s his portly belly

That jiggles and sways

Like holiday jelly?


His physique was rail thin

With tightly laced red attire

A clean shaven look

Easy to admire



He still had his iconic wears

With a sack on his back

Even his red hat and jacket

He failed to lack



Yet she knew it was not right

It’s not right, try as she might

He’s younger and thinner

How could Santa look so light?



Where are his glasses?

His fluffy white beard?

His red rosy cheeks?

Is this something to be feared?



The young man knelt down

Laying presents below the tree

He tilted his head towards the stairs

Someone was there, it had to be



“Okay little one, you can come out now!”

Said the thin man peering down the hall

The little girl timidly stepped out

Her legs shaking fiercely about to fall



“Merry Christmas little girl!”

The young man radiated a charming grin

“Who are you?”

Said the little girl, knowing no Santa should be so thin



The young man laughed

Its heft weightless and floaty

As he set his sack down

And knelt on one knee



“Why I’m Santa Claus!

Not the Claus of before, but a new one!

My grandpa’s gotten too old for this

So here I am, still bright, cheery and fun!

So long as there’s Christmas spirit

I’ll be here every year.

Someday I might look like him more

There’s no need to fear.”


The little girl’s face glowed

Hugging him with tears in her eyes

That Christmas warmth in her heart

Told her he had no lies.



“Now, go along to bed

And get some sleep.

Tomorrow’s a new day

Don’t peek!”



The little girl giggled

She hopped along to bed

But something still bothered her

So she turned around instead.



The Milk and Cookies

They’re still untouched

Does this new Santa

Not like them very much?



He took the plate of sugary goods

And placed them in his sack

Then he did the same for the milk

For all the treats as a matter of fact



As he head towards the chimney

The little girl walked out again

Santa looked back at her

A different expression than back then



“You’ve got to go to bed now

It’s far too late to stop.”

Santa spoke reassuringly

As he pointed to the clock.



“But Santa, you didn’t drink the milk!

You didn’t eat a single cookie!

Did you not enjoy them?

Why, that would be cookey!”



Santa laughed a hearty laugh

Placing his hand on her shoulder

He’d told this to many young girls

Who might not believe it if they were older



“We have a new tradition in the North Pole

Where everyone enjoys a big feast!

Without these Milk and Cookies

There’d be nothing to eat!



“I can promise you this

Not a single crumb goes to waste

Not a drop of milk undrunken

Everyone gets a taste!”



The little girl smiles

That warmth steadfast in her heart

She knew he can be trusted

She should’ve known from the start!



“You can call me Noah

I hope to see you again soon”

As Santa gave her a little push

And hummed a little tune.



As the little girl crawled into bed

Santa climbed up the chimney with glee

Only millions of homes to go

What could this new Christmas tradition be?