A Christmas Carol

Ebby Kneesore was the owner of the town's only screw shop, The Screwage. Ebby Kneesore's Screwage made and sold all sorts of screws, long ones, short ones, fat and thin all with different shape heads. Regardless of the size of your hole, Ebby could give you a good screw that fitted just right.

Ebby had one employee, the loyal hardworking Bob Crotchpit who had worked for her for many a year as a slot carver. Bob's job was to carve different shape slots into screws so people would have to buy a different screwdriver because not one of the dozen they had at home would fit.

Ebby was not happy, tomorrow was Christmas day, the one day of the year she could not force Bob to work. As the day drew to a close, Bob wished Ebby a "Merry Christmas" to which she grunted, "and a happy holiday to you too," in a sarcastic tone.

Bob slugged home through the snow, his Crocs while not warm did allow the melted snow to drain out, Bob was grateful for the miracles of modern technology. His wife Emily had prepared a hot fire for his arrival, hot fires were the only type she could make but Bob didn't mind.

His 18-year-old son Tim, better known as Tiny Tim around the town because of his tiny penis was warming his todger by the fire in the hope it would make it expand.

"Put it away Tim", called his Mother, "Let your Father dry off by the fire."

Tim obeyed, tucking his tiny todger into his hessian underpants, "Did you get a turkey father?"

"Indeed I did son, a big fat bird with amble breast and thick of thigh."

"Can I stuff it this Christmas? both holes Father."

"Didn't we talk about this last year? Your poor Mother had to scrub the turkey clean with a bottle brush remember?"

Emily smiled, "Who knows, perhaps Santa will bring you something else to stuff this Christmas," giving Bob a sly cheeky wink.

"You mean one of his Milves? Really you think Santa will bring a milf for me?"

Bob grinned, "Who knows, Santa only brings a few of his Milves with him each year, you've got to be on the good list to get a milf visit."

Meanwhile, Ebby was preparing a meal of Siencyn (which I suggest you google the recipe) as it was Christmas she saw fit to be a little frivolous and use tea not just water. Bellyful she headed off to bed and soon fell asleep.

No sooner had Ebby drifted off than she was awoken by loud knocking and moaning, "YES, YES, OH GOD, HARDER, HARDER," Ebbie pulled the covers over her ears, "What's the matter Ebby, don't you recognise your old friend, Jay Gobmarly?"

"What trick of mind be this? A side effect of covid jab no doubt. Begone hallucination, begone with thee."

"I am no hallucination, I was once your friend and I bring warning of what is to come."

"Yes, yes I know, you choked to death on a guy's cum. Everyone knows that, it's on your gravestone."

Jay rattled her chains, "Three more sluts will visit you this evening," and with this she vanished.

Ebby reclosed her eyes convinced what she saw was no more than a figment of her imagination. Jay used to be a sensible girl and would never gobble without good penny first and on many a night she gobbled so many her belly was as full as her purse until morning. But the chains? Nah, Jay was never into bondage, it had to be a hallucination.

A cold chill filled the air and rattled the bed, with groanful voice the first slut spoke, "I am the slut of Christmas Past, come with me to see what is lost."

Ebby rubbed her eyes, there in front of her stood a ghostly dildo with ghastly face and gangly limbs. It reached out a sticky hand and grasped Ebbie by the wrist. In a flash, she was whisked away to a Tavern long gone.

"Do you remember this place? you came here many a time as a teen."

Ebby glanced around the room at old faces long in their graves and friends moved on, "Yes, yes, I came on that table there and on that stool, those toilets over there, I came in those many a time. What of it? The foolishness of youth nothing more. "

"And that gent by the bar, What of him?" asked the slut pointing to a rugged bearded figure of good stout.

"That's knobbly knob Norris, he had a knob like a cob of corn. "Ebby pointed to the pool table, "He made me a woman right there upon the green on my 18th birthday as my mother and father held my hand, 18

good pumps he gave me before I creamed his corn. Good times, good times."

"And what of Christmas past?"

"There was so much semen on the floor they had to put sawdust down. You could roll it into balls and throw it at each other."

"Your legs were more open back then, more welcoming to all comers old and new."

"Even the loosest door closes and locks."

Ebby once more found herself alone in bed, had it all been a dream? The tavern had long vanished after the gloryhole splinter incident resulted in poor reviews. She closed her eyes and tried to get back to sleep.

"GIVE IT TO ME, CRACK MY CERVIX, I WANT TO FEEL YOUR BALLS BANG AGAINST MY CUNT," it was the moans of the slut of Christmas Present.

"Aw fuck, can't you let a woman sleep, have I not been bothered this night enough?"

The slut floated above her bed, a cougar squeezed into a tight cheap polyester Santa suit draped in tinsel clearly designed for a woman half her age and dress size. Once more Ebby found herself being whisked away.

"This is the home of Bob Crotchpit, is it not? Why do you bring me here at this late hour?"

The slut pointed her finger to the window beckoning Ebby to peep through. Tiny Tim was lying in bed scrolling through porn on his phone in the dark. Suddenly the door crept open and dressed in white lingerie walked a milf.

"Are you one of Santa's Milves?" asked an excited Tim, "Why are you wearing a mask? Is it cold at the North Pole?"

"Jesus Feckin' Christ," called out Ebby, "It's obviously his mother Emily. How dumb is this small dick prick?"

The Milf did not speak but merely pulled the blanket down to reveal the last prawn on the plate. Taking it in her hand she lowered herself upon it until Tim was fully inside. Gently she rocked taking great care not to let him slip out. "You've been a good this year, why don't you squeeze my satsumas?"

Tim reached out taking hold of each of her breasts and twiddled her nipples through her satin bra as his cock rattle around like the last hotdog in the can. She squeezed him tight to keep him locked inside as she began to moan.

"Aw c'mon," said Ebby, "She's obviously faking it. He's barely past the muff. She's just doing it so he doesn't fuck the turkey again. Yeah, yeah, everyone knows about that."

Tim began to tremble as the Christmas magic began to fill him and with a yell of joy he shared his bread sauce with Santa's Milf. She rose up off his twitching aching cock and wiped the mess from her bush, "My, big things do come from small packages don't they?" and with this the Milf slipped away.

"Incestuous idiotry," proclaimed Ebby, "What good will come of that act of kindness?"

"Would you not do the same anymore? When you were 19 Did you not once squeeze your own brother into your back door using nothing but brandy butter? What has changed?"

Ebby once more felt the warm embrace of her bed. It was true, years ago as a teen she had gritted her teeth and allowed her brother to plough her ass late Christmas Eve, but everyone was doing it back then, it was to be expected if you were old enough. No doubt it still goes on, siblings sneaking into each other's rooms as parents act like they don't know the score. But now in her fifties, those times were gone, now what mattered was staring disapprovingly at customers who didn't know if they needed ribbed turtlehead brass screws or stainless steel H-slotted self-tappers. Of course, you had to sell them the screwlube too.

Ebby didn't bother trying to get back to sleep, she knew the slut of Christmas yet to cum would soon be here. She didn't have to wait long before a hooded slut donned in black PVC cracked her whip upon the bed.

"Careful, you could take someone's eye out with that thing. What future Christmas do you hope to torment me with?"

The slut of Christmas yet to cum slapped a pair of handcuffs on Ebby and whisked her away to a misty graveyard. Ebby looked around, "Why have you brought me this sad place?"

The slut pointed her whip to a corner of the graveyard where a gang of goths were sulking in the darkness. Unseen Ebby approached to find a young man in his 20's perched upon a headstone while blackened-lipped girl knelt upon the earth and performed fellatio upon him as their friends looked on.

"Bloody weirdos, I wouldn't employ any of them. They only look like that so they can claim unemployment cheques you know? Probaby blew daddy's money on a pointless gender studies degree. Why'd that guy wearing black nail polish? I feel pity for their parents, is that the lesson? Can I go back to bed now?"

Ebby watched as his legs shook and with a groan he erupted, the girl's eyes bulged as she gulped down hard each and every spurt before he released her head from his hands. As she stood up and he dismounted the headstone she saw the name upon it, 'Maggie Gibson'.

"Maggie Gibson? Who the fuck is she?"

"Oh shit", said the Slut, "Wrong corner, over there," she said pointing in the distance.

Ebby headed over to find a large headstone and read the inscription, "Here rests Ebby Kneesore noble prize winner age 103 world leader in screw technology and inventor of screwlube."

Ebby smiled, "103, looks like I get a good innings, can't complain about that. I might look up that Maggie, I've got some good pointy-headed screws she can have screwed into her headstone to help stop people sitting on it."

Sunlight and the noise of families playing outside woke Ebby the next day. She stumbled to the window throwing open the curtains to find the ground covered in snow, "You boy, yes you. Do you know what day today is?"

"Yes, it's Christmas day."

"And do you know that butchers on Cocoen Road, the one with the giant turkey in the window?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then fuck off and play there you noisy little shits, I've been up all night and need some sleep."

With that Ebby slammed the window shut and climbed back into bed.