Chapter 1

Colby

“Santa has…tentacles.” There was a mix of surprise and confusion in his voice, but I wasn’t sure why.

The aliens that had settled on Earth had taken a variety of fun jobs and there seemed to be very little logic to some of them. If he wanted to explore being Santa for the holidays, who were we to tell him no?

“He’s got a great beard, though.” It was much better looking than last year’s Santa even if it was just as fake. “And he’s clearly having fun. Look at how they’re all wiggling.”

And the grin he was wearing… Santa was having fun.

“But…but Santa has tentacles.”

Jim really couldn’t move past that point.

“At least no one will fall off his lap this year.” Our company had hired some questionable Santas in the past. It seemed like we could help fight for workers’ rights, but we couldn’t protect our own employees from a half-drunk Santa. “He’s keeping everyone really safe.”

Without being inappropriate, unfortunately.

No, not unfortunately.

It was a very good thing that Santa’s hands weren’t wandering. Limbs. Santa’s limbs weren’t wandering.

“Yeah…I guess it’s good he’s being safe.” Jim’s words were polite but his eyes were a bit too wide. “I think…I think I’m going to get a drink. Do you want to come too?”

That seemed to be a polite way of saying he’d decided he didn’t want to sit on Santa’s lap any longer. I wasn’t sure why he’d been game to do it when he thought it was the same creepy guy from last year but somehow tentacle Santa was going too far.

This Santa would cause crime rates to go down, property values to go up, and he’d be wonderfully helpful.

They all were.

The goodie-goodies of the galaxy had moved in next door, but they were also big and sexy as fuck. So basically, every dirty book reader’s wet dream. Mine included.

“No.” It was going to be fun to be able to sit on Santa’s lap and not worry about squishing him. Rental Santas hadn’t been as sturdy lately as they’d used to be. “I need to tell Santa that I want a date for Christmas.”

Since it was a well-known, but confusing, fact that the aliens didn’t care if people were gay or straight, I wasn’t going to worry about asking for what I really wanted. What wasn’t quite as well known was that they were super curious about submissives, but I wasn’t sure my office Christmas party was the place to mention that fact.

There’d been some interesting shenanigans last year, though, so no matter what I did, as long as I kept my clothes on and stayed away from the copy machine, I’d still be considered boring.

Working at an interesting company that tried to be open-minded backfired sometimes…but sometimes it was useful.

“You’re…” Jim’s eyes went even wider. “You’re going to sit on his lap?”

Since that’d been our plan to begin with, I wasn’t sure why that was so surprising. “Yes, I won’t squish this one and he’s sober. I’m going to have fun.”

I’d never talked about being a sub, but no matter how big I was, I didn’t see how it could’ve surprised anyone. I also couldn’t figure out how me being gay was fine with Jim but the smiling Santa was going to give him a heart attack. “Janet over in HR was heading toward the bar earlier. Why don’t you go say hi?”

She was a judgy pain in the ass, but for some reason, he seemed to like that.

Hmm.

Okay, maybe I was starting to understand why he liked her.

But how was being gay okay but being tentacled was not?

I was never going to understand the stuff people ended up being prejudiced about.

“Yeah…I’ll…” He turned and wandered away as his voice trailed off, but I was just glad he hadn’t said anything technically offensive.

Janet in HR wouldn’t like that at all.

She’d have to do her job if he was too straightforward in how creeped out he was.

“Bye.” Shaking my head, I turned toward the line waiting to talk to Santa. “Not too bad.”

There were at least ten people waiting for Santa, but I didn’t mind waiting especially when it seemed like I was one of the last people in line. I’d done a lot of mingling before I’d found Santa in the conference room, so I was glad that had helped give the line time to dwindle down. But the fact there were still enough people wanting to play along that I wouldn’t stand out was wonderful too. The mix of single adults and kids who were giggling made it so I actually blended in.

And I had plenty to do to keep me busy while I waited and listened to people tell Santa they wanted everything from a puppy to a housekeeper…at least that’s what I thought they were asking for based on the weird description.

But it wasn’t my business, so I stayed busy and worked on educating myself about the romantic life of aliens.

I’d found a whole new genre of books…naughty tentacle Doms.

The first books I’d found about our new intergalactic friends had all been basically the space version of Amish romance… clean Amish romance. It seemed like no one had wanted to be the first to sexualize them, but we’d managed to get over that hump because I was in the middle of a book about a tentacle Dom and the sub he was head over heels for.

Which of course meant lots of control and spankings.

Online rumors said they really liked BDSM but finding anything outside of porn about it was hit or miss.

Porn wasn’t supposed to be accurate but the stuff I’d found looked pretty real to me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t confident enough about that to try dating one. Yet. Eventually I’d figure out how to bring up BDSM in a casual conversation and ask what their species thought of spankings.

Yeah, eventually.

I’d finished another couple of chapters before I got to the head of the line, but the only problem with my plan was that I’d stopped at a very good place.

Very good.

A distractingly good place.

Would their tentacles really do that?

I was starting to wonder where some of the authors I’d found lately were getting their information from…especially this guy with very little online presence and a backlist of curious tentacle books. His original ones were typical alien porn, but the newer stuff made me wonder what had changed in his life.

Their tentacles wouldn’t really do that, would they?

“Come sit on Santa’s lap, little one.” He seemed to mean that seriously because he was fucking huge, even for one of them. “Ho. Ho. Ho.”

It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen, especially since he was clearly enjoying the fuck out of playing Santa.

“Thank you, Santa.” I should’ve probably had more reservations about climbing on a strange guy’s lap when I had the hard-on from hell, but I never claimed to have a lot of common sense when it came to sexy men.

So I climbed up in his wiggly lap and let myself get wrapped up securely in his limbs.

Yep, it was just as sexy as I’d thought it would be and didn’t help the problem in my pants, but I could only hope he thought the shiver that’d gone through me was because of nerves. Hell, I probably should’ve hoped he thought I was a bit creeped out over the tentacles.

Work had taken a weird turn when looking like some kind of speciesist was the best option available.

I wasn’t sure what he’d say, but he seemed to ignore it as he tucked me closer to his torso and smiled.

“I am Santa. Ho. Ho. Ho. I give presents to humans who are aspiring to have a good life and I give punishments to those who have been naughty.” He shook his head like that was sad and it was such a human behavior it stuck out as weird. “Have you been good, little one?”

Well, it depended on the definition and what the punishment would be if I’d been naughty.

Ugh.

I should not be thinking about being bent over Santa’s lap.

“Yes. Yes, Santa.” Oh, this had been a very bad idea. “I’ve been good.”

Mostly.

There certainly weren’t any sexual shenanigans lately I needed to apologize for, so I decided my dry spell had been going on long enough to declare me good.

“I am very glad to hear that, little one. What can Santa provide to you for being well-behaved?” He paused and patted my back. “What would you like from Santa?”

Oh, that was a terrible question to ask a sub with what was quickly turning into a tentacle kink.

The only things that popped into my mind for several long seconds were from the scenes I’d just read, but I managed to swallow those inappropriate answers back and remember to ask for my slightly less inappropriate one. “A date, Santa. I haven’t met any men lately that appreciate me and I would like a man for Christmas.”

This had been a spectacularly bad idea…but at least I was at the end of the line?

His limbs pulsed around me.

Fuck.

How had he made me even harder?

I really should’ve worn looser pants…or tighter underwear.

Better decisions definitely should’ve been made on several fronts.

A few of the smaller tentacles pulsed and tightened around me again, but I was betting that no one could tell from the way his larger ones were arranged. I really hoped no one could tell if they walked in and surprised us, because it made me moan and I was more focused on hiding that than I was in hiding Santa’s happy tentacles.

Santa’s smile got wider. “Submissive humans are delightful.”

So they really knew about BDSM?

There was something else I should’ve said but one of his tentacles inched higher on my thigh and he turned off my brain.

Santa didn’t mind, though.

He looked very pleased with how the situation was turning out. “Good boy. Yes, you are a very good boy and should be rewarded.”

For moaning?

For encouraging him to feel me up?

For being honest?

“Thank you, Santa.” I moaned out the words, but it just made Santa happier. “I…I’m a sub.”

Another thing I shouldn’t have said at work, but I couldn’t find enough common sense to care.

“Yes. I am aware based on your physical responses.” A smaller limb came up and patted my head. “However, I approve of your clear communication, so thank you. Humans do not always excel in communication.”

Understatement of the year right there.

“You’re welcome, Santa.” I was still brain-dead and just stared stupidly at him. “I like communicating.”

Somehow that came out dumber than I’d expected, but Santa patted my back approvingly. “Then I will expect a clear answer to my question, submissive human. Would you like to be taken out for food and additional communication?”

Food and communication?

Oh.

A date.

“Yes, Santa. Thank you.” Santa really knew how to fulfill Christmas wishes. “A date, right?”

Probably should clarify that before I started humping Santa…but god, he was so close to my dick.

“Yes, my human.” He seemed proud of me for having figured that out because it got me another pat. “We shall have a date. Once my scheduled performance is complete, we will expound on our schedules. You will remain at the party until that time unless you have a pressing matter that you will presently explain.”

I was going to stay put unless I had something really important to do…got it.

“Yes, Santa. I’ll come back in here when your time as Santa is over and I won’t leave the party.” Why would I?

“Good boy, my human.” Another pat had me wanting to melt, but Santa started loosening his tentacles, so I had to find my brain. “I must entertain other humans, but do not worry, my interest lies with you.”

Santa was only going to grope me.

Deal.

“Thank you, Santa.” There was probably a list of things I was grateful for, but I could hear people coming closer, so it wasn’t the time to explain them all.

“You are welcome.” Lifting me off his lap like I weighed nothing, Santa set me on my feet. “One hour and then you will attend me, my human.”

“One hour.” Yes, I could remember that. “I’ll be back.”

Because I had a date with a Santa with wandering limbs and a big smile…and one who seemed to understand submission and domination.

But as I forced my legs to move me away from Santa and the line of my coworkers that wanted to play along, I realized I had a lot of questions.

Did Santa understand about spankings?

Did Santa understand how sexy his you’ll obey me tone was?

Had he understood how turned on I was?

Did Santa have a name?

Had I told Santa my name?

What was our date going to look like?

How long did we have to date before he’d move those wandering limbs higher?

How far could he carry me?

Maybe a first date with a focus on food and communication wasn’t a bad idea. But there were still a lot of other bad ideas I could find on a first date with Santa.

Fingers crossed he understood dating was romantic in nature and wasn’t a confused straight guy who didn’t understand the signals he’d been sending.

Having that happen twice would just suck.