He changed his angle slightly, and suddenly every thrust was nailing my prostate dead-on. I screamed, my vision going white at the edges. The pressure in my cock became unbearable, my balls drawing up tight against my body. But still, I couldn't cum. His demonic power held me there, suspended in that agonizing moment of almost-release.
"That's it," Krampus rumbled, his pace becoming merciless. "Suffer for me. Show me how desperate you are."
I couldn't form words anymore. All I could do was moan and sob as he used my body, his massive cock reshaping my insides with every brutal thrust. The audience beyond the glass pressed closer, their hands moving faster on their own cocks as they watched my complete destruction.
Krampus's breathing grew heavier, his thrusts becoming erratic. His claws dug deeper into my hips, and I felt hot blood trickling down my sides. The pain only heightened everything else—the stretch, the fullness, the desperate need building in my core.
"You want to cum?" he snarled, leaning over me until his hot breath washed across my neck. "Beg me. Beg like the desperate, naughty boy you are."
"Please!" I screamed, my voice raw. "Please, sir, I need to cum! I'll do anything, please just let me?—"
"Louder," he commanded, slamming into me so hard the bench shifted across the floor.
"PLEASE!" I wailed, not caring who heard, not caring about anything except the release he was dangling just out of reach. "Please, Krampus, I'm begging you! I need it, I need to cum, please!"
He growled, a sound so deep and dark that it vibrated through my entire body. His cock swelled impossibly thicker inside me, and I felt him getting close.
"Cum," he commanded, and whatever supernatural hold he'd had on me shattered.
My orgasm hit me so hard I nearly blacked out. I screamed as my cock erupted without being touched, painting the floor beneath the bench in thick ropes of cum. My hole clenched rhythmically around Krampus's massive shaft, and that seemed to push him over the edge.
He roared, the sound echoing through the room as he buried himself to the hilt. I felt his cock pulse inside me, flooding me with what felt like gallons of burning hot cum. It was too much—my body couldn't contain it all. His seed leaked out around his shaft, running down my thighs and dripping onto the floor to mix with my own.
He kept cumming, kept filling me, his hips grinding against my abused ass as he emptied himself inside me. My vision went dark at the edges, my body overwhelmed by sensation. I might have passed out for a moment—I wasn't sure.
When I came back to myself, Krampus was gently withdrawing from my body. The sensation of his cock sliding out made me whimper. I felt impossibly empty, stretched and gaping. His cum continued to leak from my hole, a seemingly endless stream.
I felt Krampus's clawed hand stroke down my spine, surprisingly gentle after such brutality. "You did well, little mortal," he rumbled, his voice holding something almost like approval.
He began undoing the restraints, freeing my wrists and ankles. I couldn't have moved even if I'd wanted to—my body felt like liquid, boneless and spent. When the last restraint fell away, I simply lay there, trembling and leaking.
"Can you stand?" he asked.
I shook my head weakly. The honest answer was that I wasn't even sure I could lift my head.
Strong arms lifted me effortlessly, cradling me against his furred chest. Through heavy-lidded eyes, I saw the glass walls had returned to stone, the audience gone. Or maybe they'd never been there at all. Maybe that had been part of the demonic magic, designed to heighten my humiliation and pleasure. Or maybe this really was the event of the year.
Krampus carried me to a corner of the room I hadn't noticed before, where a deep tub was already filled with steaming water. He lowered me into it carefully, and I hissed as the hot water touched my abused skin. But after the initial shock, it felt incredible, soothing the aches and burns.
"Rest," he commanded, though his tone was softer now. "You've earned it. These waters will heal you."
I watched through the steam as he cleaned himself, washing away the evidence of our encounter. His massive cock was finally softening, though it was still impressive even in its relaxed state. He caught me staring and smirked.
"Enjoy yourself?" he asked.
"I think I died and came back to life," I admitted, my voice hoarse.
He laughed, a deep rumbling sound. "Not quite. Though you did come close." He moved to the tub, kneeling beside it. One clawed hand dipped into the water, and he began washing me with surprising tenderness. "You took my punishment better than most. Better than any human I've had in years."
I felt a strange flutter of pride at that. "Does that mean I was especially naughty?"
"Oh yes," he purred, his hand sliding between my legs to gently clean my sensitive hole. I winced but didn't pull away. "Working yourself to death for a company that doesn’t care about you, harboring resentment, servicing an entire bathhouse full of cocks... and then taking mine so beautifully. Very naughty indeed."
His fingers were careful as they washed away the cum and blood, checking for any serious damage. I felt raw and stretched, but nothing seemed permanently injured. Just thoroughly used.
"Will I be able to walk?" I asked.
"Eventually," he said with dark amusement. "Give it an hour or two."
