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“…I don’t understand.”
Mama and Papa looked at each other, exasperated. “Aisha,” Papa said, his voice low and sullen. “It’s just… money is tight this year, and we all have to make some sacrifices.”
“But… Santa?” Aisha looked at her parents with big, forlorn eyes - the eyes of a nine-year-old girl who still believed in Christmas magic. “He’ll still come, right?”
“Princess, we— I mean… Santa isn’t coming this year.” Mama reached out and gently cradled her only daughter’s cheek, wiping tears off her dark skin. “You’ve been a good girl, Aisha. The best girl. But…” Her voice trailed off and her gaze broke away, unable to bear looking at her disappointed daughter any longer.
Aisha could only repeat herself. “…I don’t understand.”
Papa sighed. “I’m sorry, Aisha. You’ll understand when you’re a big girl, okay?” he said. “Why don’t you take a bath, put on your jammies and get ready for bed? At least you’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow! When I was only a little older than you, I would always sleep in on Christmas day. It’s one gift I always got, every year!” Papa had that big, silly grin on his face that never failed to make Aisha laugh — and even in her distraught state, she couldn’t help but crack a little smile up at him between sobs. “That’s my girl. Go on, get to bed.”
“…’kay.”
Little Aisha heard her parents starting to converse in quiet whispers as she made her way over to the bathroom. She just didn ’t get it. Why did it matter if Papa and Mama need to save money? It’s Christmas, isn’t it? Every Christmas present she’d ever gotten in her nine years of life had a big, colorful tag on the ribbon: FROM: SANTA CLAUS. Maybe there was something she was missing? Being a grown-up seemed so weird and confusing. Maybe all the Mamas and Papas around the world have to pay Santa some money to make him show up at their house? Kind of like when Aisha couldn’t watch her favorite cartoons anymore, because Papa “had to cancel Disney+.” Yeah, that kind of made sense, Aisha thought, stripping naked and sliding into the bathtub, sinking into the warm, bubbling water until it just was just barely lapping at her septum. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth wash over her as she found herself still lost in thought.
She was stuck on Papa ’s words. “You’ll understand when you’re a big girl.” It wasn’t the first time she had heard that. She’d heard the same when asking what taxes were. When she asked what beer tastes like. When she asked where babies come from. Aisha hadn’t asked that last one out of nowhere — she had overheard some older girls at school giggling about it. Fifth graders. Is that when she ’d be big? She sunk deeper into the water, blowing bubbles out her nose. Ten did seem like a big number. And some of those older girls at school … well, she’d heard some of them had started to wear bras. She quickly ran her hands across her chest — flat as a board, with a little dark button-sized nipple on each nonexistent breast. Big girls had boobies, right? Mama has pretty big ones … maybe I will too, thought Aisha.
A quick sudsing later, she dried herself off and pulled on her pajamas, making her way to her bedroom. She paused just long enough to peer back into the living room, still hearing her parents speak. “I’m going to bed. Love you, Mama, Papa,” she said quietly, not even waiting for a response as she slipped into her bedroom. It was about as clean as one could expect a nine-year-old’s bedroom — assorted toys scattered around the room, with a laundry hamper holding a pile of messy clothes and a dresser with nicely-folded ones. The biggest thing, though, was the bed — Aisha had gotten it for her eighth birthday, and she loved it. A four-poster twin-sized bed, like a princess, with pretty pink sheets and mostly-translucent curtains she could ostensibly pull out for privacy, though in reality all they would achieve would be making her appear pink-tinted to her parents. It didn ’t matter for her, though — she felt like a princess when she slept in it, and she knew tonight was going to be no exception.
But before Aisha slipped under the covers, she had a thought: Papa and Mama had told her to always pray before she goes to bed, but … why limit her prayers to only God? Santa Claus seemed to be just as powerful as the Lord, after all. And it’s not like Jesus was in the business of regularly giving kids presents. It made enough sense to her, anyway. And so, Aisha knelt at the edge of her bed, hands clasped as she finished one prayer, and started another:
“Dear Santa, um, I’m sorry that I haven’t prayed to you much. But tomorrow is Christmas, and I didn’t know who else to talk to… Papa told me a lot of confusing things today, and that you weren’t going to show up at our house tonight because of them. He told me I’d understand when I was a big girl… and that’s what I’m asking you for, Santa. I don’t want any toys or candy or anything this year. I just want to be a big girl, so I can understand Mama and Papa better.” She paused, considering if it was worth adding something else — something a little petty. Well, it is Santa, she figured. What’s the worst he could do? Give her a lump of coal? “And, um, one more thing. Can you tell me how, uh… babies are made? The big girls at school won’t tell me… anyway, um, I love you, Santa, uh, amen, or Merry Christmas, or, um… g-goodnight!” Aisha was blushing, hoping that she didn’t fumble that sign-off too hard as she climbed into bed and got cozy under the sheets. Usually she found herself unable to sleep on Christmas Eve, but tonight, for whatever reason, sleep found her easily.
And as she slept, the spirit of holiday cheer began its work …
Aisha wasn ’t one to sleep in — especially not on Christmas, of all days! — but even so, she found herself waking up early the next day. Not because of any Christmas Day nerves, or a ruckus to be found in or out of the house, but rather for a very practical reason: her feet were cold! She furrowed her brow, eyelids locked shut to keep the first rays of the day’s light out of her eyes as she tossed and turned in her bed, trying to find the one particular orientation of girl and blanket that would leave her warm and cozy for another hour or two of sleep. And when she couldn’t find it after ten seconds, she started to kick her legs; after thirty seconds, she started to thrash around in her bed, thinking the problem was obviously her not putting enough gusto into it. But after a minute, something else drew her attention — a loud, violent rrriiiiippp accompanied by the sensation of soft bedsheets on her bare thighs. She sat up like she was spring-loaded — and nearly slammed her head against the top of her bed ’s canopy.
This … this wasn’t right.
Her heart began to race as she threw her sheets off and looked down at her lower half. Her pajamas were barely scraps of fabric attached to her elastic waistband — itself feeling tight around her hips as her legs jutted almost to the knee off the far edge of her bed. It wasn ’t only her legs, she realized — the tightness in her torso meant her pajama top wasn’t long for this world either, as each little motion she made caused a cacophony of cascading cotton clefts. It barely took another minute until the top was simply too tight for her, tearing itself to ribbons in its futile attempt to contain her growing body. Aisha couldn’t even sit comfortably on her bed anymore — her scalp was beginning to press uncomfortably into the canopy of her bed, as her torso and hips overflowed off the edges of the bed. The cheap particleboard that composed the frame also didn’t fare well, creaking and straining as the girl tried to figure out what was going on. It didn’t take her too long to figure it out. Santa heard her prayer:
He was making her big.
“No, this wasn’t what I meant!” Aisha cried out, trying to wriggle her way off the bed, only to find herself trapped as her naked thighs got sandwiched between the far posts of her bed. The pressure grew and grew — she could practically feel herself growing in real-time, and it didn’t take long until the bed couldn’t take anymore. Her head punched through the top of the bed as her thighs broke the posts trapping her, leaving each with two massive fractures along their bottom third. The frame had reached its limit as well, snapping along its center length-wise and sending Aisha and her mattress uncomfortably to the floor. She took the opportunity to scramble out of bed, to her feet — nearly smacking her head against the ceiling in return.
“What… the heck…?” Aisha said, looking down at her naked body. Nothing looked out of place to her — there were the same two flat boobs she knew, and her ever-so-slightly concave tummy, and the smooth lips of her privates framed between her skinny thighs. She was identical… just bigger. “This isn’t what I meant, Santa…” she said to herself, trying — and failing — to stand up straight in her bedroom. She had to have been half-again as tall as Papa now, if not even bigger! Somehow, that made her feel happy — the thought of her parents, her neighbors, her classmates as doll-sized elicited a strange, pleasant feeling inside her. She giggled at the thought, and was brought back to reality by the sensation of the ceiling drywall pressing against her hair.
She was still growing! She hunched down, trying to keep herself from tearing a hole in the ceiling. The bed was one thing — Papa was sure to be disappointed in her, but things like that are just things. If she broke the house … she wasn ’t sure how she was going to explain that to Papa. But despite her best efforts… she kept growing. Her shoulderblades began to press against the roof, followed by the rest of her back as she tried to squat even further — and while a young girl is flexible, she wasn’t that flexible. Large cracks began forming in the drywall, sending jets of musty plaster into her bedroom.
“No… I don’t wanna… I don’t… wanna…” Aisha groaned, trying, willing herself to stop growing… but even though her voice said no, deep down… she wanted this. She couldn’t stop it, even if she wanted to… and so, she let it happen. She stood up straight, the smooth black skin of her back getting plastered with stripes of white drywall as she stood up straight, stretching her arms above her head as she looked down at her family’s modest home. She had to have grown to about thirty feet now — the roof of her home about in-line with her knees now as she towered above the neighborhood. The sun had finished its slow ascent to daybreak, shining beautifully across her naked, chocolate-colored skin. She knew she should feel embarrassed about this — Papa and Mama always made sure to tell her not to show her private parts to anyone — but after literally destroying her bedroom, a little public nudity seemed to pale in comparison. Besides… that warm feeling grew even stronger when she thought about people looking at her.
She ran her hands along her body, rubbing the sun into her body like lotion. Slowly, up along her sides, only for each hand to rest along her flat chest, feeling her nipples prodding her sensitive palms. Those little buttons weren ’t so little now — jutting out from her chest, each dark nipple had to be at least the size of a small car. She rubbed them again — and once more felt that pleasure running through her. It seemed to centralize, she realized… her hands sliding down, fingers bouncing in the trenches between her ribs, down the divot to her flat tum, down to that spot between her legs… she slowly reached down there, to touch her smooth virgin vulva, and gasped in shock and pleasure. That feeling, that warm happiness — it jolted through her, a hundred times stronger than before. Her fingers felt wet — but not wet like she expected. No, this was a sticky warmth, dripping eagerly from her virgin quim. It felt like mere drops to her, but each sticky ball of preteen love was gallons upon gallons of sticky girlcum impacting the house below with violent concussive force. And as she explored herself, she grew — taller, wider, bigger. People were starting to take notice of this giant exhibitionist — but they were so far down below her, she could barely even hear them. She readjusted herself — her feet had blown through the walls of her bedroom, and indeed had wrecked most of the rest of the house at this point. Shingles, plywood and piping exploded into the air as she moved her feet away from her house, into the street — taking care not to crush any poor pedestrians, though more than a few parked cars met their grisly demise between her titanic toes.
Her hands didn ’t once leave her pussy as she fingered herself for the first time. She was reaching so deep inside of her, each pleasant plunge of her thick, bus-sized fingers into her tight, virgin giantess-pussy sent electric jolts of indescribable ecstasy through her entirety, with the sensations only growing stronger as she grew bigger and bigger. Every moan she made sent sonic shockwaves through the neighborhood, like a powerful, deafening earthquake felt from miles away. That little nub at the top of her slit was the key, she found — her dexterous fingers focusing especially on that sensitive, truck-sized clitoris, with each gentle nudge sending violent jets of girlcum gushing from her loins. The pleasure grew, and grew, as did she — Aisha couldn’t even pick out her home from the lofty heights she stood on now — two hundred feet tall, if not more. Her tongue rolled past her lips and her eyes rolled back in their sockets, staring at a God that was surely staring back in disappointment as she started to cum for the first time. She screamed, the vibrations knocking over lampposts and power poles as the streets below were flooded with endless gallons of sticky, musky girlcum — a puddle from her perspective, but a massive lake of gooeyness from the ground. A hand went to her chest, tugging on her stiff nipple out of pure reflex, feeding that breast-based pleasure join the endless tsunami of her clitoral climax.
But she soon discovered something new — the growth had mostly stopped, leaving her a towering giantess, but it seemed that her body still seemed … malleable. As she pulled on her tit, it began to fill out, round and perky — the sort of boobs that Aisha had always dreamed of having. Her other hand left the warmth of her cunt to join its sister, smearing her juices across her chest as she pulled meter after cubic meter of bouncy black titflesh from her formerly-flat bosom. Just like her first orgasm, the more boob she grew, the better she felt — and it only took a minute before each of her tits had grown to about the size of a three-storey home. She looked out of place — or at least even more out-of-place than a giant naked nine-year-old was, anyway — as these two massive, gravity-defying fuckbags hung from the chest of a girl that, besides her many-hundreds-of-feet size, looked otherwise like your average nine-year-old. But that wasn’t the last thing Aisha wanted to experiment with.
Her hands returned down to her loins, spreading her thighs wide as she began to tug on her clit. This little nubbin gave her so, so much pleasure — so surely making it even bigger would increase that pleasure time a billion, right? Slowly, she stroked her clit, easing it with two fingers, then a hand, then two — the shaft growing longer and thicker as she tugged hundreds and hundreds of feet of clit from her loins. No, not clit — it was changing, too. As it grew longer, thicker, and harder, a small sack formed at the base of her clit, growing proportionally along with its length. Aisha had never seen anything like this, but she knew what it was instinctively — it was a boy ’s thing. A penis. A cock, with a pair of massive balls to match. Each nut was itself more than enough to reduce Aisha ’s house to a crater, and they, too, were only growing larger and larger as Aisha, in her sex-crazed haze, continued to grow her cock. It seemed there was no limit with how big it could grow — reaching up to her face, and beyond, towering high up in the air and leaking thick rivers of immature precum down below. Its impossible length, many times her height, knocked her off balance — leaving a pair of impossible craters conforming exactly to the shape of Aisha’s asscheeks and pussylips in the middle of the neighborhood. The pleasure, the pressure was too much for her to handle, and so she began to pleasure herself in earnest.
Her arms wrapped around the impossible length, titfucking the skyscraper-sized shaft with her plush preteen pump-pillows, thrusting her hips up for the little extra distance she could manage. Her long tongue lolled from her mouth, slobbering all over the thick member, feeling each roiling, pulsating vein in excruciating detail on her sensitive tongue, all while one hand cradled her swollen, cum-stuffed testes and the other slipped behind to desperately fingerfuck her own immature babymaker. She was lost in the sensation — hundreds of meters of cock with hundreds of millions of nerves, all screaming out in impossible pleasure. Drool dripped from her face — she didn ’t care. She couldn’t help it as her eyes went glassy and she started to pant like a bitch in heat. Her body was getting ready to experience something it never expected to feel, even beyond the sexual sensations multiplied by scale — an explosive penile orgasm.
Her nuts tensed up, the dark, smooth skin of her nutsack wringing every last drop of immature sperm from her massive balls as her cock began to pulse in pleasure, feeling the thick, juicy load of semen slowly raising up her hyper-giantess fuckmeat, ten agonizing feet at a time. Her body glistened in the now-midday sun, her naked body drenched in sweat as she furiously stroked herself. No one was in the neighborhood anymore — everyone who could escape did to avoid the girl ’s shockwave-inducing moans or the thousand-gallon comets of sweat, spit, and pre careening off of her perfect body. She thrust her hips against her tits, her hands, up to the sky, far beyond where her vision ended, as her endless orgasm finally reached its own climax as her cum finally erupted from her tip, flying thousands of more feet into the air before crashing back down to earth — giant, gooey meteorites of hypervirile baby batter careening down the tri-state area. Aisha couldn’t handle it anymore — she collapsed backward, letting the intense sensation of her endless ejaculation envelop her entire being. She didn’t know when, or even if , she would stop cumming. She didn ’t even know if she was ever going to shrink back down to size. But there was, at least, one thing that was absolutely certain:
It was going to be a white Christmas.