A Naughty Christmas Carol

With apologies to Charles Dickens.

Stave 1: Marley's Ghost

Marley had died a virgin. There is no doubt whatever about that. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail, and his cock had only ever been stiffened by his own hand.

Ebenezer Scrooge muttered to himself as he made his way home. He recalled a conversation he'd had earlier with his nephew, who once again, had invited him to Christmas dinner.

"Don't be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us tomorrow."

Scrooge said that he would see him - yes, indeed he did. He went the whole length of the expression, and said that he would see him in that extremity first.

"But why?' cried Scrooge's nephew. "Why?"

"Why did you get married?" said Scrooge.

"Because I fell in love. And I wanted to experience the joys of carnal relations. Haven't you ever wanted to have sex with a beautiful woman, uncle?"

"Because you fell in love!" growled Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas.

"Bah, humbug! Carnal relations. What rot!"

A curious thing had occurred when, upon reaching his dismal living quarters, a vision of his deceased business partner had appeared on the door knocker. It had definitely been Marley's face, yet a second later, the ghostly visage had disappeared and the door knocker looked as it always did.

He shook his head. A trick of the mind, surely?

He continued grumbling to himself as he changed into his nightshirt and dressing gown. Later, he sat alone in his private quarters, a small fire in the grate; spoon and basin ready; and the little saucepan of gruel upon the hob.

Scrooge was always miserable. The real reason known only to him was that he was impotent, and had been for many years.

All at once, bells started ringing, everything in the room began shaking, and with an almighty crash, the ghost of Jacob Marley appeared, dragging a large chain.

"How now!" said Scrooge, caustic and cold as ever. "What do you want with me?"

"Much!" - Marley's voice, no doubt about it.

"Who are you?"

"Ask me who I was."

"Who were you then?" said Scrooge, raising his voice.

"In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley."

"You are fettered,' said Scrooge, trembling. 'Tell me why?"

"I wear the chain I forged in life,' replied the Ghost. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard; It is a chain of sexual frustration - each link representing a time when I was forced to wank myself off."

Scrooge trembled more and more. "Ye Gods, Jacob. It's a wonder you never went blind. Old Jacob Marley, tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Jacob!"

"I have none to give," the Ghost replied. "No rest, no peace. Incessant torture of remorse. And to be cursed with a high sex drive for all eternity, but no-one to satisfy my urges with."

Scrooge was puzzled by this. "You're seven years dead. In that time, how come you haven't encountered any female spirits? There must be thousands."

"Oh! captive, bound, and double-ironed," cried the phantom, "not to know, that ages of incessant labour, by immortal creatures, for this earth must pass into eternity before the good of which it is susceptible is all developed. Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused! Yet such was I! Oh! such was I! In short, In death, I am cursed never to lie with a woman, spirit or mortal."

Scrooge was very much dismayed to hear the spectre going on at this rate about his lack of a sex life, and began to quake exceedingly.

"Hear me!' cried the Ghost. "My time is nearly gone. I am here tonight to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer."

"You were always a good friend to me," said Scrooge. "Thank ye! I wish you'd confided in me about your problems. I'm sure I could've found a suitable, reasonably-priced harlot from the local bawdy house who would've introduced you into the ways of sex. Risk of the pox and syphilis of course, but at least you'd have died happy."

"You will be haunted," resumed the Ghost, "by Three Spirits."

"I - I think I'd rather not," said Scrooge.

"Without their visits,' said the Ghost, "you cannot hope to shun the sexless path I tread. Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls one. Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night when the last stroke of twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!"

Stave 2: The First Of The Three Spirits

Scrooge was awoken as the bells tolled one. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside; and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them. She was a stunning figure - a fresh-faced young blonde woman of about nineteen or twenty. She had the widest blue eyes he'd ever seen, and the way her hips moved with a youthful, almost sexual energy as she walked over to the side of the bed.

"Are you the Spirit, miss, whose coming was foretold to me?" asked Scrooge.

"I am."

The voice was soft and gentle. Singularly low, as if instead of being so close beside him, it were at a distance.

"Who, and what are you?" Scrooge demanded.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

His eyes were locked on hers, and when she broke his gaze to look around the room, his glance took in the rest of the waist-up view: flawless skin, a graceful neck, the white silk gown that was almost completely see-through...he could see the swell of her rose-tipped breasts.

"Long Past?" inquired Scrooge: feeling embarrassed and hot in her presence.

"No. Your past."

Realising he was wearing nothing but his dressing gown and nightshirt, he pulled the bedsheets up higher.

"Do you mind? I'm not...decent!" He spluttered, feeling more awkward than he'd felt in years.

She smiled at him. "It is of no concern, Ebenezer. She put out her slim hand as she spoke, and clasped him gently by the arm.

"Rise. And walk with me."

The grasp, though gentle as a woman's hand was, was not to be resisted. He rose: but finding that the Spirit made towards the window, clasped his robe in supplication.

"I am mortal," Scrooge remonstrated, "and liable to fall."

"Bear but a touch of my hand there," said the Spirit, laying it upon his heart, "and you shall be upheld in more than this."

He swallowed nervously at her touch, which had the effect of sending blood surging to unspeakable places.

Together, they floated through the wall and the Spirit took Scrooge back in time to his childhood and to a vision of his younger self.

"Good Heaven!" said Scrooge, clasping his hands together, as he looked about him. "I was bred in this place. I was a boy here."

The beautiful Spirit gazed upon him mildly. Her gentle touch, though it had been light and instantaneous, appeared still present to the old man's sense of feeling. He was conscious of a throbbing in his groin...

"Let us go on. You were a solitary child, Ebenezer. A shame. Such a handsome boy. A boy who surely would never want for female admirers."

He felt himself blush, and prayed she didn't notice.

As the spirit led him through his past, Scrooge's mind had gone blank. Amazingly, his mouth was still spouting words that sounded good, but his entire consciousness was focused on the vision of loveliness that she was showing him. Her gown was open, and it fell away from her skin as she bent over, showing him everything. The most perfect pair of young breasts that he'd ever imagined were his for the viewing.

Onward through his past, he was led. Suddenly, his attention was captured by another beautiful young woman, whom he recognised at once as Belle.

"Spirit!" said Scrooge in a broken voice, "remove me from this place."

Belle was Scrooge's ex-fiancée who broke up with him because he had changed too much in his pursuit of wealth. They were both poor when they met, and Belle loved the man he was before he became greedy.

"You loved her very much, didn't you, Ebenezer? Yet you let her slip away before you ever got to lie with her."

"Leave me! Take me back. Haunt me no longer!"

"Wouldn't you like to have just one night with Belle? I can make it so."

"I don't see how..."

The Spirit clicked her fingers and transformed. Scrooge's heart was pounding in his chest, and, to his horror, he could feel his long-dormant cock awaken under his nightshirt. He looked away from the forbidden treasures in front of him and closed his eyes. By the time he opened them and looked again, he was half-erect and still stiffening.

Belle stood before him, completely naked, her lovely face framed by long curls of glossy hair. They were in a lavish bedchamber.

She kissed him vigorously, running her fingers through his long white hair and whimpered, "Gods... Ebbie, please. Ravish me."

"But...I'm so old!" He protested.

"And yet you present such a large and glorious maypole," Belle grinned, kneeling before him and lifting up his nightshirt.

"Oh God..." Scrooge took a deep, lustful breath as she took his swollen cock in one hand and began licking it. The joy, and gratitude, and ecstasy. They are all indescribable alike. And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever, when Belle took his member fully in her mouth and gently sucked it, and all at once it became spring-time in the haggard winter of his life.

Belle's hands quickly wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer to her face, shoving his cock deeper into her mouth, until his wiry white pubes brushed her nose. The shouts of wonder and delight with which the development of every sweet pleasure was received! What bliss! He placed his hands on her head. Scrooge's manhood was thick and a good seven inches at full attention, yet Belle, for such a tender and delicate creature, worked it with ease and with more care than any London harlot could ever do.

Belle looked up at him with those big, pleading eyes of hers and withdrew from him.

With most unladylike words, she whispered to him. "Fuck me now, Ebenezer."

And Scrooge did just that as he rammed half his member deep into her Belle's cunny so violently that she sucked in air to keep from crying out. Then he rammed the rest of it in, stopping only when his low hanging balls slapped against her.

"You like that, Belle?" He suddenly asked with a huge smile on his face.

"Yes... oh God yes!"

"Oh I'll fuck you good all right." Scrooge said as he pulled his cock out until only its head remained inside. Then looking straight into her eyes, he rammed it back inside as far as it would go.

"Bless my soul if you don't have a hot little sheath." He told her as he started pumping in and out with powerful strokes that had her gasping and moaning, the stamina of which would put a younger man to shame.

Then right in the middle of the coupling, he leaned forward and kissed her as passionately as she had ever been kissed. Gentlemen of the free-and-easy sort, who plume themselves on being acquainted with a move or two, and being usually equal to the time of day, express the wide range of their capacity for adventure by observing that they are good for anything from pitch-and-toss to manslaughter; between which opposite extremes, no doubt, there lies a tolerably wide and comprehensive range of subjects. Scrooge had more than demonstrated his capacity for satisfying a woman.

Oh, how Belle hated for him to spend! For so long now, she had wanted to have sex with him. Now she was doing that. She could tell he was about to cum when she noticed the strained look on his face. And as if on cue, he shot off inside her.

"Oh Belle...my love...my love!" Scrooge yelled, over and over, until they were overcome by sleep.

Stave 3: The Second Of The Three Spirits

When Scrooge awoke, he was alone in his own bed once more. Sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Scrooge had no occasion to be told that the bell was again upon the stroke of One. He felt that he was restored to consciousness in the right nick of time, for the especial purpose of holding a conference with the second messenger dispatched to him through Jacob Marley's intervention.

To his surprise and delight, he looked down and saw that his cock was still rock hard.

"Praise be to God," he whispered, "but my virility hath returned with all might!" He stroked his shaft. It was slick with fluids, and not just his own.

He put a finger to his lips. The taste of Belle's cunny...no the Spirit...ah, no matter. It was a taste most divine, and dear Lord, he wanted more of it.

Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour went by, yet nothing came. All this time, he lay upon his bed, the very core and centre of a blaze of ruddy light, which streamed upon it when the clock proclaimed the hour. He got up softly and shuffled in his slippers to the door.

The moment Scrooge's hand was on the lock, a strange voice called him by his name, and bade him enter. He obeyed.

It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove; from every part of which, bright gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there; and such a mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney, as that dull petrifaction of a hearth had never known in Scrooge's time, or Marley's, or for many and many a winter season gone.

Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant woman, glorious to see:, who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door.

"Come in!" exclaimed the Ghost. "Come in, and know me better, you ravishing man!"

Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit. She was plump, with the largest breasts he had ever seen. He couldn't stop staring at these immense orbs. She was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure, that her capacious breasts were almost bare. Her feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on her head she wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Her dark brown curls were long and free; free as her genial face, her sparkling eye, her open hand, her cheery voice, her unconstrained demeanour, and her joyful air.

"You have never seen the like of me before!" exclaimed the Spirit.

"Never," Scrooge made answer to her. He'd certainly never seen such a massive pair of tits, of that there was no doubt.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Touch my robe."

Scrooge did as he was told, and held it fast. In truth, he wanted to touch those tits.

Holly, mistletoe, red berries, ivy, turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, meat, pigs, sausages, oysters, pies, puddings, fruit, and punch, all vanished instantly. So did the room, the fire, the ruddy glow, the hour of night, and they stood in the city streets on Christmas morning.

"Come, let us observe the merriment of Christmas," the Spirit said, as she led Scrooge down an alleyway. The Spirit smiled, and stopped to bless Bob Cratchit's dwelling with the sprinkling of her torch. Scrooge and the Spirit looked through a window.

Then up rose Mrs Cratchit, Cratchit's wife, dressed out but poorly in a twice-turned gown, but brave in ribbons, which are cheap and make a goodly show for sixpence; and she led her husband into the bedchamber and pushed him backwards onto the bed.

"Ooh Bob me good 'un, the children be hard at work on the Christmas feast and seeing to dear Tiny Tim. What's say you and I make the most of this moment and make the ol' beast with two backs?"

"Mmn, that be a grand notion, my sweet!" Bob laughed as he unbuttoned his breeches. "Eh, always space for another young Cratchit!"

They began having the most wild and frenzied coupling, which made Scrooge blush redder than holly berries.

"I say, Spirit! I must protest at this unseemly voyeurism!" he spluttered, covering his eyes, yet continuing to peer through his fingers. "That's Bob Cratchit...he's my clerk!"

"An overworked and underpaid clerk," the Spirit replied. "Despite that, he has such an incredible sex drive. What a remarkable man!"

"Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how you rut just like a stag!" Mrs Cratchit yelled, as the headboard banged against the wall.

Scrooge watched, mesmerised, as Mrs Cratchit's full-bodied tits bounced up and down, like two lambs gambolling in a spring meadow. He thought her body splendid for a woman who'd endured childbirth so many times. Bob was indeed blessed with a very comely wife. He'd never realised it until now, but he found her very attractive. Definitely worth ravishing.

When their lovemaking concluded, they returned to the kitchen, where their children were waiting.

"A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us."

Which all the family re-echoed.

"God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.

Scrooge had been discreetly rubbing his erection through his nightshirt all the time.

"T'is lovely to see a happy family enjoying themselves, don't you agree?" The Spirit smiled. "I see you too are enjoying the view."

Scrooge bowed his head in shame. "Forgive me, Spirit. What must I do?"

"You must learn to embrace your sexuality Ebenezer, and cast off your inhibitions."

Scrooge was overcome with penitence and grief.

Mortal and spirit travelled onwards through the present, and the next scene was in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at Scrooge's nephew with approving affability.

"He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live!" cried Scrooge's nephew. "He believed it too."

"More shame for him, Fred." said Scrooge's niece, indignantly.

She was eighteen and very pretty: exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled, surprised looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth, that seemed made to be kissed - as no doubt it was; all kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature's head. Altogether she was what you would have called provoking, you know; but satisfactory, too. Oh perfectly satisfactory!

Scrooge felt his erection throb with need. Never realised I had such a pretty niece, he thought. Bloody hell, what I'd give to bend her over that piano stool and ram my prick up her...

"I'm sure she'd love it if you were to do that," the Spirit said, winking at him.

Scrooge's cheeks flooded with colour. "You can read my thoughts?"

"I'm a Spirit. From me, no secrets are hidden. Oh don't look so mortified, Ebenezer! I'm delighted you fantasise about fucking your niece. That's more like it! Don't be shy, my dear man. It may please you to know, that she fantasises about fucking you too."

"I beg your pardon?" Scrooge spluttered.

"Not quite the innocent little creature you think she is," replied the Spirit. "Has meddled with many a man, she has, and all of them much older than she. She has a fancy for the older male."

Scrooge licked his lips. "Then I must endeavour to..."