Christmas Cookie Caper
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the dollhouse,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a plush mouse.
Pink stockings were hung on the chimney with glee,
And in front of the fireplace sat a plate of cookies.
Crissie was tucked in, all snug in her crib,
Her mind was wide-awake, though, her slumber a fib.
Laying in her crib, she made not a peep,
And waited patiently for all to be asleep.
She unlatched the bars and lowered them gently,
With a plan in mind, it would be elementary,
For how could Santa know if she took one or two,
As he’d be too busy to notice anything askew.
With her feet on the floor, Crissie dashed for the plate,
Her footsteps were light but she had no time to waste.
Luckily her caretaker slept very hard,
Poor Miss Snorington was not much of a guard.
Licking her lips, she looked down at the platter,
As if she could taste the scrumptious batter,
When all of a sudden, arose such a clatter,
It startled Crissie and caused a twinge in her bladder.
With no time to think, she acted with haste,
And emptied the plate down the diaper on her waist.
She then scurried back towards the soft, warm bed,
Diving between the sheets and resting her head.
Her eyes clenched shut, too nervous to peek,
At the man in a red coat with bright, rosy cheeks.
“Ho ho ho!” laughed the man, who shook his head,
“Looks like little Crissie has been out of bed.”
‘Uh oh!” thought Crissie, who shrank away,
Hoping that Santa would return to his sleigh.
But Santa couldn’t leave a lesson unlearned,
He tossed off her sheets, for punishment was earned.
“Well, well, well, what have we here,”
“A Christmas cookie thief with presents so near.”
“This lovely pink rocking horse was to be left by the tree,”
“Unfortunately, it will be coming back with me.”
Crissie then began to sob, her eyes very misty,
“Pwease, Santa Cwaus, I’m weally sowwy!”
Santa rubbed his chin, wondering if his threat,
To take back her gifts was the right punishment.
“Ho ho ho!”, he chuckled, her cheek he did pinch,
“It’s Christmas Eve and I shan't be a Grinch.”
“There’s a more fitting penalty for your Cookie Caper,”
“Since you are, indeed, an ero-story creator.”
Crissie’s optimism soon turned to fear,
But this was Santa, could he be that severe?
The big man snickered, the empty plate in hand,
He then snapped his fingers, bringing cookies on command,
Stacked twice as high as they were before,
Crissie began to drool as she wanted more.
Santa did chuckle at her desperation,
“Don’t worry, little one, we can share in my creation.”
Crissie didn’t hesitate, leaping out of the crib,
But before she could dig in, Santa gave her a bib.
“You’ve made quite a mess, there is no dispute.”
This made her cheeks blush as red as Santa’s suit.
He brought the first cookie up to her lips,
The sugary aroma caused her thoughts to eclipse.
With no deliberation, she bit down on the dough,
Baked goods greeted her stomach with a friendly hello.
She scarfed it down fast, no trace remaining,
Paying no mind to what the cookie was containing.
The process repeated and Crissie soon found,
Her stomach growing taut and bulbous and round.
She looked at the plate, too many to count,
“Uhh, Santa? I tink I had a good amount.”
Santa just smiled, shaking his noggin,
As he hugged Crissie tight, keeping her blocked in.
“Oh no, silly girl, you’re nowhere near filled,”
“With all the cookies you stole, you should be thrilled!”
Santa pressed his fingers up to his teeth,
And whistled quite loudly, summoning presents for his thief.
All of sudden, Santa’s sack began to rumble,
And eight plushy reindeer fell out in a jumble.
“Ho ho ho, this is quite a treat,”
“Instead of a rocking horse, I shall gift you a fleet.”
“These eight stuffed reindeer are your new bestest friends,”
“Whether they act nice or naughty…well that all depends.”
One by one, the reindeer took flight,
And made their way over to the plate with delight.
Crissie watched on, amused by the plushies,
But soon her bright smile faded into blushies,
As each of the reindeer grabbed a dessert,
And then flew towards her mouth to insert.
“S-Santa, pwease, I’m much too fuwll,”
“Call off the reindeer, get them under control!”
Patting Crissie’s head, Santa denied her request,
“It appears you failed to pass the naughty-nice test,”
“Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer, and Vixen!
“On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, and Blitzen!
“One by one, you will feed this naughty brat,”
“Until her diaper bursts, so she can never forget.”
As the first of the reindeer stuffed Crissie’s face,
She was mortified to find that it was soon replaced.
The plate that Santa held continued to restock,
And the cookies kept coming, unable to be blocked.
Crissie’s stomach then made a loud GUUURRRGLE!
She rubbed her hands on her tummy in a circle.
She knew this eerie feeling all too well,
The feeling of laxatives making her guts swell.
Looking at Santa Claus in utter disbelief,
How could such a kind man cause her such grief?
With the snap of a finger, Santa began to transform.
His fat disappeared, and his figure reformed.
Tossing the red coat onto the floor,
It was none other than Master, who was rotten to the core.
“M-Mast-mmmfff!?!” shrieked Crissie, whose mouth was soon filled,
By even more cookies, from which many crumbs spilled.
Moving to the chimney, Master blew a quick kiss,
“This is where I leave you, my darling baby Criss.”
Crissie groaned for help, but there was none present,
Then her butt blorted out something rather unpleasant.
A SPUUUUURRRCH!! echoed out from within Crissie’s diaper,
The reindeer just giggled, growing even more hyper.
No whimpering or whining could save Crissie now,
As she was forced to eat more than her stomach could allow.
Her arms fell to her sides, she was truly defeated,
Now she was stuck until her bowels were depleted.
With one last goodbye, Master dove out of sight,
“Merry Criss-Mas to all, and to all a good night!”
THE END.