[b][u][center]The Dragon’s Gifts
By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]








Christmas was hours away, and Draconicon – both bored and wanting to make the end of the year better for some of the people he cared about – was on the move. Unlike a certain red-suited denizen of the north that was on everyone’s lips this time of year, the dragon didn’t fly through the air, nor did he leap down chimneys, nor did he pop out of fireplaces with a red suit on and a grin on his face. 

Instead, he stepped from portal to portal, walking out of swirling black with a gold coat over a crimson suit – a key difference – and adjusting his tie as he did. In that way, he traveled to the ones that mattered to him, sleeping deeply that night. 

Well, mostly. 

Draconicon pulled a handkerchief and dabbed his face, the hot weather of a further land making him sweat as soon as he stepped out of the portal. He shifted from one foot to another, only to feel something slithering over his toes. Glancing down, he saw a snake rushing by and knelt down, gently picking it up behind the head. 

“You don’t belong in here, little one,” he said, carrying it to the nearby window and lowering it to the ground. “Hunt elsewhere.”

“Mmmph…nnngh…”

He chuckled; much as it was funny to imagine the snake grumbling, the sound came from behind him. The black dragon turned around, one hand on his hip and the other on the windowsill as he looked at the bed on the other side of the room. The blankets were all but cast off, the pangolin sleeping on the barely-covered mattress sleeping shallowly with her head pointed right at a fan. 

No surprise; even though she’d lived in this heat all her life, she probably hated it as much as he did. Draconicon walked across the room to the sleeping dear, kneeling down by the side of her bed. He traced the air just over her face, stopping just short of patting her cheek. 

“Isabella. At least you’re sleeping tonight, even if it’s not going so well,” he muttered under his breath. 

The pangolin grumbled in her sleep, faceplates damp and shiny. He shook his head, cranking up the fan as he got back to his feet. 

It was always a shame to see her in discomfort. She had a lot of things on her plate, a lot of tasks to balance. Some of it, he knew, came from a connection to the local spirits that she took very seriously. Then there were the responsibilities that she took on for the local LARP group. Not to mention the way that she’d just disappear into the wilderness for days sometimes, coming back with new totems, symbols, and even a machete made of obsidian, one time. It was hard to know what she got up to. 

But what he did know was that she was getting worn down. Draconicon gently nudged the blankets up, revealing her legs. Little scars had become bigger ones. She wore bandages along her calves often these days, and when he touched the back of her thighs, she winced. 

[i]Pushing yourself too hard, little one,[/i] he thought, shaking his head. [i]Well, I can fix that…[/i]

After all, could you really say that you’d celebrated Christmas if you didn’t give a gift to someone?

The black dragon stood up. He reached into his front pocket, fumbling through series of tiny implements – a chiclet from a keyboard, a white droplet in a vial, a single hook from a bra, and more – before finally finding what he was looking for. Drawing a single gold thread from a circuit board from his pocket, he leaned over the bed, one hand on the wall, and looked back at Isabella’s face. 

[i]You’ve always said you wished you were more than flesh,[/i] he thought, shaking his head. [i]Here’s hoping you enjoy your gift.[/i]

Spinning a little of his magic through the gold thread and making it shimmer with black fire, he lowered his hand to her thigh and let the metal thread fall. It glinted as it left his fingers, shimmering until it hit her brown-scaled thigh. 

As soon as it made contact, the magic activated. Draconicon took two steps back, staying out of reach. 

As expected, the shimmering gold transformed, melding with the brown and gray flesh already there and becoming something else. A clay color started to emerge from her legs and tail, spreading further and further and taking over her natural shade. Here and there he spotted the same gold shining through, getting stronger and sparking, arcing with bioelectricity across her changing skin and scales.

[i]That’s it. No more problems there. No more difficulties getting where you want to go. No more wondering then they’re going to give out. Merry Christmas.[/i]

He sat down on a chair nearby as the changes rippled through the sleeping pangolin’s limbs. Draconicon shook his head; he had no doubt that Izzy would have liked to be awake for this – she’d always loved cyberpunk and anything even vaguely related to it – but that would have meant having a conversation, asking about it and (despite how enjoyable it would have been) getting invited to stay for a while…

And being tempted. When this was over, she’d have a whole new half of a body to break in, and that was [i]really[/i] tantalizing. 

But no. He had other things that needed doing, other people to see tonight, and he needed to make sure that got done. 

So, he kept his legs crossed at the knee, hands in his lap, and watched as her legs turned from brown and clay to something grayer, then to something shinier. Gun-metal gray started to take prominence along her thighs, shimmering into metal seams as her flesh was converted to metal. Along her back and tail, the scales themselves turned dark as pitch, oil black, and they stayed that way as they shimmered and segmented. The transformation grew more and more detailed the further it went down her legs, going from a simple sheet of metal to segmented metal to a fully rippling chassis that imitated skin, though with scale-like metal patterns if one was looking close enough to see it. 

He chuckled as she rolled onto her back in her sleep, huffing softly. She probably felt at least some of the transformation now. Not too long until it was done, really. 

Draconicon hoped that she’d enjoy it when she woke up and realized what had happened. It was his best guess for what she wanted for Christmas. 

He pressed his legs together a little, shaking his head and focusing on the shift. She was slowly losing the last of the organic-brown tints on her legs, her long-clawed toes shimmering as the claws turned from something organic to something that put titanium to shame. They glowed, reflecting the light of the outside stars and moon, and he couldn’t resist. 

Draconicon reached out and stroked her foot as the undersides turned from softer flesh to hard, then giving metal. It was a bio-metal, something that mixed with her biology to take the strength of both. 

Hackable, too. He looked forward to showing her what could happen with that. 

Shaking his head as he watched the little segments of nano-metal running along the bottoms of her feet, he leaned down and kissed her toes. They curled instinctively in her sleep, the pangolin letting out a soft whimper of pleasure. 

“Sleep well, dear. And wake to find yourself altered the way you always wanted.”

He stood up. Dragging the blanket back up and resisting the urge to look at her new silicone ass and pussy, he covered her up and turned around. 

The portal shimmered and he was gone. 

#

It wasn’t far to the next house. He stepped out to find a hippo, sweaty from a late-night work out, passed out in bed and snoring away. A poster of a spaghetti western was on one wall, a pervy picture of a crocodile on another. Draconicon chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he walked around the snoring man and sat at the computer desk on the other side of the room. 

“You’re going to have a fun time when you wake up,” he muttered, tapping the computer tower. “You’ve wanted to have some fun; I bet you’ll do some interesting stuff with this.”

The hippo continued snoring behind him. Draconicon reached into his jacket pocket again, this time pulling out the little chiclet. Laying it on the keyboard and letting it integrate, he turned the chair around and looked his old friend over. 

Damo had been a friend for…well, quite a while. The hippo lived in the ass end of nowhere, well away from most of the other friends that he had. A little island nation that kept itself well-detached from the rest of the world, it didn’t have many people of power coming to visit, nor did it seek to involve itself with most of the rest of the world. 

Perfect place for a demon to take root. 

“Heh, just a little hard to keep the corruptions going when it involves being personable, huh?” he muttered, scooting the chair over and patting the hippo demon’s sweaty foot. “Even as a demon, most days you’re just trying to get by. Well…let’s see if I can make that a little easier.”

Beep. 

He looked over his shoulder. The chiclet key had completely integrated, turning the cheap white keyboard into something out of a government laboratory. The whole thing was streamlined, sleek, and backlit with exaggerated colors. The computer, too, was upgraded, the monitor split into three different screens, the tower glowing with a deep red and humming away with a power that it had never had before, and the central monitor blinked before three words appeared. 

“Master PC Activated.”

Was it a bit of a risk giving a demon something like that? Perhaps, but he had every reason to believe that Damo would use it for pervy reasons and little other. Besides, the hippo’s range was limited to the island he was on. Might need to check in on that later, but he was pretty sure that it’d be fine. 

Pretty sure. 

He turned back to the sleeping hippo. Damo’s cock hung over one leg, and he shook his head as he gently flipped it over the other one and tucked the hippo back in. 

“Sleep well, my pervy friend.”

Another friend down, and quite a few more to go. Draconicon stood up and stepped out another portal. 

#

He stepped out on an island, one with a smoking factory in the middle of it and a great deal of kobolds either snoozing or partying out in the fields. A mecha – precisely shaped like a kobold but taller than the factory itself – loomed in the distance, shut down for the night but covered in partying little lizards. 

“…Must have moved the building since the last time I was here,” Draconicon muttered. 

A pair of kobolds looked up from their buckets of eggnog at him. One peered through bleary eyes while the other stared with mouth agape. The black dragon tapped his lips with a finger, shushing both, and offered some rock candy. The bribe was more than good enough to send them running off with sticks of the stuff, and he chuckled as they tripped multiple times as they ran off. 

“Silly little things…”

He meandered through the industrialized farmland, avoiding the tentacle plants and the other ‘security measures’ that were just as much product as protection. Even so, at least one of the vines snagged him by the ankles and had to be flicked away, and he was half-sure that the plants were puffing out aphrodisiacs from the half-erection that he had once he walked through the front door. 

Adjusting his jacket and fluttering his wings to get the pollen off, Draconicon looked around. The factory had the same layout as usual, which meant that Engy was probably sleeping in his office above the catwalks. Conveyor belts, snarled and spaghettied, were almost as good as stairs as he climbed over unconscious kobolds being carried hither and yon on the track, some of them rolling off and snoring where they fell. 

Once he’d climbed to the highest part of the conveyor belts, it took a little hop and wing flutter to get to the catwalks. From there, he could see into the office and – 

Yes, there he was. The golden dragon was asleep, his legs spread out, his wings flopped over his chair, and potions aplenty spread out on the ground in front of him in corked glass vials. Draconicon shook his head, waving his hand as he walked into the small office. The vials floated off the floor, sorting themselves out into little standing blocks, and he looked down at his friend. 

“Tired as ever, hmm?” 

Engy snored in response, the gold dragon lolling his head from one side to the other. Draconicon chuckled. 

“That’s a yes. Let’s see what I have for you this year…”

As he rooted through his pockets, he couldn’t help but smile at the other dragon. Engy never shied away from letting everyone see his excesses and pleasures, and this was no exception. Though Draconicon was taller by a few inches, Engy was thicker, broader across the shoulders with a rounder build. Not chubby, per se, but certainly thicker, particularly in the hips. 

But it was the big balls that everyone always remembered. Draconicon stood up and patted the heavy orbs, the massive things so big that they forced Engy’s legs apart and nearly formed a footrest for them to rest on. The fact that the alchemist’s cock was nearly as large, pushing forward and sagging over the sac and probably measuring around four feet long – soft – was just about average for him. 

Finally finding what he was looking for, Draconicon pulled a small vial with a single drop of white in it. He uncorked it, holding it over Engy’s balls. 

“I think that you’ll have a good time with this one,” he muttered, tilting it to the side. “Let’s make you even more of a brewer…this time, a brewer of potions straight from this sac…”

The droplet fell, and he stepped back. As soon as it made contact with the other dragon’s balls, they swelled, pulsing, churning, visibly going tight as they were pushed to their limits. The magic started seeping through, Engy’s cock dribbling pre-cum in his sleep, and the yellow dragon groaned, huffing, curling his toes as the dirty dreams began to come. 

And so did the transformation. Draconicon smiled as he put the cork back on the vial and tucked it into his pockets. Already, the gold scales were shimmering toward black, becoming like giving, flexing latex. A second later, the black faded away, replaced with a rippling spiral shimmer along the heavy orbs. A second after that, they glowed yellow again, shining with a faint emblem of a dragon’s head. 

The shapes and such would fade over time, but for the next little while, Engy’s balls would be a mood ring to his kinks, and more than that, a brewing pit for new potions. Whatever kink the yellow dragon had would infuse his cum, allowing him to put together all kinds of potions on the fly with his new magical seed. 

[i]Can’t wait to see what you make with that.[/i]

Patting the swelling balls, Draconicon stepped through the portals once more. 

#

[i]Stopping at a lizard’s house, the blue-scaled, blue-haired artist sleeping soundly. He leaned over her, rubbing her ass through her blankets, and pressed a single black scale to her forehead. 

“Forget your clothes, little empress…”

The scale shimmered, blending into hers. With all Ulti’s little fantasies about nudism, he had every reason to believe she’d like a few weeks of embarrassment, ‘forgetting’ her clothes all over the place and being exposed. She wouldn’t even notice it…not at first, at least. But with the smartphones all over the world, he had no doubt she’d see records eventually.

#

Stopping at a dragoness’s apartment, Draconicon stepped out from under the bed. When he found himself face-to-ass with the lavender owner of the apartment, he shook his head and slowly crawled further away before getting up. 

“Yana, Yana, Yana…sleeping naked again…”

He pulled out a rippling black butt-plug. Not so subtle as the others, but he knew that she would appreciate it. Dragging it along her ass cheeks, he lubed it with her sweat before sliding it in. Almost immediately the black ooze started to take over, melding into her rim, to her inner walls, coating her from the inside out. 

“You like to think with your ass, little one. Let’s take that further. A little ‘gift’ to make it so you can only feel smart when you’ve stuffed it full.”

#

Another stop, this time in a high-rise penthouse. Draconicon stepped out of the portal with one hand in his pocket and the other on his hip. 

“Looks like Fyacin got another good haul tonight…”

No surprise, he found the lion passed out in rope bondage in bed with a rather well-satisfied lover. The hare was completely unconscious, dick still wet, while Fyacin – a lion of some beauty, a handsome man with an androgynous body – was still tied up, passed out, with a tied-off condom deep in his ass. 

Draconicon pulled the tiny fragment of a bra clasp from his pocket and pressed it to Fyacin’s chest. When morning came, he’d be quite the different lover for the hare. 

“Hope you have more condoms; you’ll need the extra birth control…”

#

A library for an otter. 

A book of enchantments for another dragon. 

A melon patch for yet another dragon he knew. 

A tentacle garden for a snake (to make him take a break). 

Draconicon popped in and out of portals for three hours, taking gifts here and there to many different people he knew. Sometimes he enchanted them with their gifts, and other times he merely left them as a tool to enjoy. Either way, they’d wake up in the morning with more to their name than they’d had in years. 

After the twentieth delivery, Draconicon sat on the edge of a rooftop. No sooner had he gotten comfortable than the familiar jingle-jangle of another magical entity caught his ears. The black dragon chuckled, but didn’t turn around. 

A few clomping footsteps followed, then someone in a bright red suit with fluffy white accents sat down beside him. A low rumble of a laugh filled his ears, as did the soft jingling of bells. 

“Didn’t expect to see you tonight, Santa,” Draconicon muttered, staring up at the stars. “Don’t you have a few hundred million more to visit, still?”

“Oh, I’ll get to them soon enough. Besides, you know time does not touch me.”

“Or me, if I’m around you,” the dragon said, shaking his head. “Hope I wasn’t stepping on your toes. I just had a few ideas and wanted to spread some joy.”

“Ho ho ho. Not at all, not at all. I always encourage others to spread whatever joy they can.”

“Heh…glad I could help.”

Shaking his head, he pulled one leg up against his chest. A mittened hand patted him on the shoulder. 

“Have you about finished, young man?”

“Pretty much. If something else inspires me, I might visit one or two more people on the way home.”

“Ho ho, good. You need to sleep too. Particularly if I’m going to give you a present tonight.”

“Heh. Why do you think I’m not looking at you?”

Santa existed. He’d always existed. Sometimes he didn’t come ‘round to the people that refused to believe, but he existed. And if he didn’t bring presents, then he at least brought other things. Hope. Happiness. Love when he could. The dreams of something better, and the desire for more. 

Ambition, he supposed, was one of Santa’s greatest gifts. If he couldn’t give you something, then he could give you the hunger to get it yourself. 

But he was still something beyond time, beyond the power of even someone like himself. Draconicon knew better than to look at that, particularly without the space of a child’s mind to encompass something like that. 

“Anyway. I –”

“Before you go.” 

The hand left his shoulder. More bell jingles filled the air, then one came a little closer. Draconicon sat up a little straighter when it rang right beside his earhole. 

“Take it.”

“What –”

“Don’t forget, Draconicon. I know everyone in the world. Their hopes, their dreams, their wishes and wants. And I know what you’ve wanted for too long.”

On instinct, Draconicon held out his hand. Santa pressed the bell into it, closing his fingers around it. 

“You want to believe things will get better. That you can make it better. Young man, they can, and you can. And every time you need to remember that, just ring that bell. Ring it and remember: there is something greater in this world than the bad things you face. For every nightmare, there is a good dream. For every terror in the dark, there is a twinkle in the eye.”

“…And a cookie by the fire,” Draconicon muttered, squeezing the bell tight. 

“That there is, ha, that there is.”

“…Thanks, Santa.”

“You’re welcome. Now, get home and sleep; I have more gifts than that to give, and I don’t want you staying up all night.”

“I will, I will. Just…a few more minutes. The starlight is nice.”

“Heh, alright, young’un, so long as you get there sometime.”

Draconicon nodded. As the boots stomped away and the sleigh took off once more, he slowly counted to ten. When there was nothing left but the faintest jingles of bells, he turned his head to the side and looked toward the heavens. 

The faded shadow of the sleigh and the reindeer were all that was left for him to see, but it was enough to make him smile. He saluted the old gift-giver, the old bringer of hope, and leaned back on the roof once more, humming an old song. 

“Just like love, you know he’s there…waiting to be missed…”










[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: This is a story that I wrote for TerinasTiger’s Stocking Stuffer, but it turned into something more than that toward the end. I thought about writing this just as a kinky thing to tie in a few friends, but at the end, I just…I had to bring in Santa. I still have so many things there, so many little thoughts and hopes and wishes and – it’s Christmas. Let Santa be there. Let the dreams of good things shine for a few nights. Let the childish dreams of a gift-giver to the world linger for a little bit longer. 

If you’re curious about the Stocking Stuffer stuff, look at this journal from Terinas here: https://www.furaffinity.net/journal/11254840/

Tags: M/F, M/M, Gift Giving, Christmas, StockingStuffer2025, Stocking Stuffer, Stocking, Stuffer, Dragon, Pangolin, Lion, Hippo, Cyborg, Robotization, Ball Growth, Santa, Gender Swap, Forced Exhibitionism, Lizard, Various Species, Holidays,