“This is a special punishment I so rarely get to employ,” he gloated, a curled claw neatly peeling the front arm of the ginger, “but then, you’re a very special girl, aren’t you.”
Aubrey watched as he fashioned the thumb of ginger into a rounded plug, smoothing out the pits and bumps until it was perfect. When he turned with a flourish, she knew she was meant to be terrified, regardless of the quiver of anticipation that moved through her.
“I want to hear you scream, dear heart,” the monster purred, flipping her to sit on the edge of the table, moving to stand between her open legs before rubbing the ginger through her slick folds, circling her clit. His tongue was long and obscene, lolling from his mouth like a ruby red snake. As she watched, it unspooled further, dipping between her legs, and she was unable to prevent her shuddering gasp as it licked her, hated to admit howgoodit felt.
“Hmmm. Quite the curiosity, aren’t you. You smell like a good girl. Youtastelike a good girl . . . but you’d make very fine Naughty List material. Very interesting, sweetling. What a happy accident this was . . . for me.”
A pinch to her clitoral hood from his thick fingers forced the swollen pearl out, his laughter a pitch-black curl as he pressed the ginger to it. With a slice of his nail, her nightgown came apart easily, dropping to the floor with the remains of her breakfast. Aubrey worked hard to control her breathing as that long tongue curled around her nipple, attempting to keep from squirming or vocalizing how good the ginger nub felt rolling over her clit like a toy. It took several minutes before she began to feel it. A slight tingle, a tickle of nerves that did make her squirm, heating steadily. It was glorious. The noise she made then was involuntary, a yelp as if she were an animal with her tail caught in the door, her legs twitching, held open firmly by the monster.
“Not so wanton now, are we dearest?”
The heat steadily increased, a burning that didn’t quite have the icy edge of the contents of her medicine cabinet, pleasure blurring into pain. She shuddered and the monster laughed, a strangled moan pulling from her throat. It burned, fire enveloping her clit, and shelovedit, loved everyfuckingsecond of it.Well, that answers one question — yes, you’re into this too.If he were to raise his thick fingers to her again, Aubrey had no illusions that she would come immediately. He began to roll the ginger over her throbbing pearl again, to ensure the burning did not immediately subside, and it was over. White spots clouded her vision as she arched, crying out. She clenched, muscles convulsing, and she wished there was something inside her,anything, even that goddamned peppermint stick. The burning did not stop as she shook, gripping the heavily muscled arm of her captor for support, crying out as she was unexpectedly flipped again.
This was supposed to hurt as well, she knew without question as he dragged her back to her knees. She wasn’t adequately prepped and she would never recommend such actions to any newbie in the scene, but the ginger plug was coated in her slick, well-lubricated as it pressed to her ass, and this too she knew well. She’d take plugs quadruple this size before, and the ginger nestled between her cheeks with ease.
“We may as well continue your spanking since you’re enjoying yourself so much, sweetling.”
She tensed when he brought the leather strap down against her ass again, claws grazing her scalp as he pushed a hand through her hair, forcing her head back. The Krampus moved to stand before her at the table, keeping his grip on her hair tight, and Aubrey gasped, another question answered.
His cock was thick and bright red, the same scarlet of his glistening tongue, with a bulbous head and ridged underside. It was bigger than any she’d had before . . . at least, a real one. There was an entire industry of fantasy-shaped dildos out there, and she’d experienced more than her fair share. She wondered if she would get the chance to feelthisfat peppermint stick within her.Stop it, stop thinking that way . . . okay, but still, low-key hope so!
“Suck,” he instructed, jerking her hair, an unnecessary but appreciated show of force. It was not the way she’d expected to spend the day and she was worried about getting her cookies done, but she couldn’t help feeling that she was coming out the victor in this little swap. The pre-come that pearled at his cock-tip tasted like fiery hot cinnamon candies, and she laved him with her tongue, enjoying the flavor and the slight burn. She wondered if she pleased him adequately enough like this, perhaps he’d get on his way. Not that she wasn’t enjoying herself, of course, but those cookies weren’t going to make themselves.
“I saidsuck,” the Krampus snapped, pulling her head roughly, forcing her to swallow his cock, leaving her gagging. The plug’s burn in her ass was just starting to be felt, the ginger’s oil seeping into the delicate tissue, and when he brought the strap down once more, Aubrey understood the punishment in full. She yowled in genuine pain then, for as the belt came down, she instinctively braced for its bite, tightening around the ginger in the process. Fire bloomed through her, and before she had a chance to acclimate herself, the strap spanked her again, and once more she tightened around the ginger. Her scream choked around his cock as she was seized with a burning agony the ginger in her ass feeling like a lit fuse. She could either brace for the spanking, which meant her muscles tightening around the ginger plug, forcing its oil to seep into her; or else keep her muscles loose and take the full force of the strap.
Krampus began to laugh then, black and terrible, forcing his cock a little further down her throat. He was sadistic and cruel, was taking an inordinate amount of pleasure from her pain, if the fiery cinnamon taste of the pre-come that flooded her mouth was any indication . . . he would make an excellent dungeon master, she thought. The strap came down again, sloppier this time, for he’d been slightly too focused on gripping a larger handful of her hair to better control her mouth on his cock, but on the next sharp slap against her skin, the belt landed square on her cunt. Aubrey clenched and screamed again, and again and again and again, as the belt found its target on her lips, an impeccable aim that left her helpless to tighten, sending the ginger oil through her like an inferno. It was an intolerable pain, the worst she’d ever known,farabove her pay grade as a sub, but she would have been lying to herself if she pretended she didn’t love every horrible minute of it.
She gagged when the cock in her throat pulled back, shrieked when she was lifted with inhuman strength and spun like a doll, and sobbed when her ass came down to sit on the edge of the table, forcing the ginger in a little further. He smelled like oranges, she realized, holding onto his shoulders as her body screamed in pain. Bright and juicy, like the tangerines she candied for Christmas Eve, citrus swirled around sharp clove and sweet cinnamon, like a rich, mulled cider. She’d never again be able to have a cup of spiced cider with a sugared orange on the rim again, she thought, and not think of this day. This of this day and get wet doing so, if she were honest.
“You’ve taken your punishment well, sweetling,” he hissed, obscene tongue darting out to taste her throat, “but I need to be getting on with my schedule. Plenty of naughty children to visit on this night. You’d do well to make sure your welp isn’t on my list in the future, if you want to avoid a repeat of this.”
She gasped when his cock filled her, his goat-like hips pistoning with urgency, and his long tongue unspooled once more, curling around her clit with ease. It felt good, she couldn’t pretend otherwise. She’d never been eaten with such skill, had never had a partner who seemed to know exactly what her clit needed to make sparks shoot behind her eyes, and she didn’t realize as he began to laugh again that this was her final punishment. When she came under the monster’s tongue, her body clenched — clenched around his fat cock, clenched around the ginger, fiery pain obliterating the pleasure that had caused her peak, clenched so hard she milked them both.
His moan of pleasure was obscene, his claws digging painfully into her hips as he buried himself deep within her. Oil seeped from the plug, making her scream anew, and the cock within her exploded, filling her as he groaned. Aubrey thought she knew what fire felt like at that point, was positive the ginger in her ass was the worst burn she would ever know, but the Krampus pumped her full of liquid pain as his cock erupted. Burning, blazing, gallons of it, immolating her insides until she felt as though she might be able to breathe it out and incinerate the whole town of gossiping busybodies. She screamed and he laughed, and the world disappeared in pain-filled cloud of smoke.
When her eyes opened, she was back in her nightgown, the apron still tied snugly around her neck. The remnants of her breakfast sat on the kitchen table beside Jacob’s science project, and the oven dinged with notification that her cookies were done.
Glo-ooo-ooo-ria, inexcelsisdeo. . .
“Let this be a lesson to you, sweetling.” The beast was still there, once more draped in his furs, basket upon his back, about to disappear up the hallway to her front door. “You do not want to be on my Naughty List. Ensure your child is a good boy, and you won’t need to see me again.”
That was what she was meant to hope for, what a sane person would be praying . . . but all Aubrey could think of was how nice it would be to have a repeat scenario when she didn’t have to worry about getting her cookies in the oven.
“Wait!” she cried, stomach flipping at his words. She would never,everallow Jacob to be accosted by this nightmare creature, not this one or any other, would lay down her very life to prevent it. . . . But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be interested in this Naughty List. Aubrey thought she might like a permanent entry, preferably near the top. She fished a business card from the bag on the back of the chair, and gave the Krampus a somewhat sheepish smile.
“Why don’t you call me sometime. There’s, uh, no reason to wait until next Christmas to do that again.”
3
Gruß vom Krampus, or: a Reminder, Dear Hearts, That This Is A Punishment
Through the window, from the steel cage of the demon’s arms, she could see the glow of a Christmas tree in the apartment building across the lot, twinkling gaily in red and green and gold.
Nessa’s eyes filled with tears at the festive sight, so warm and inviting. It looked like the sort of old-fashioned tree she would sit and admire for hours at her grandmother’s house, with silver tinseled branches and a kaleidoscope of color reflected on the walls, delicate glass ornaments, and a colorful star perched atop. She would tuck under the lowest branches like a mouse, meticulously arranging and rearranging the presents beneath the tree, lining up the ones that had her name on the gift tags by size, then by shape, the mystery of what each contained making her giddy with anticipation of Christmas Day. She had loved the holiday as a child, loved the decorations and carols, the presents and parties with her cousins . . . she wasn’t sure when exactly she’d lost her holiday spirit. There were no holiday decorations in her own flat, no tree or mistletoe, no beribboned angels or shining stars.
She had been a very bad girl. That was what it told her after she’d opened the door, thinking the knock harkened the arrival of someone else, someone more familiar . . . in hindsight, she should have known better. It had been a heavy, thudding hammer, accompanied by the slight drag of chains and the dull tinkle of toneless bells, but she’d opened the door anyhow. She hadn’t kept the spirit of the holiday, hadn’t been a good friend or neighbor, hadn’t thought of others, the monster said. She had been placed on his Naughty List, and now she was being punished for her seasonal transgressions.
And now she was trapped, trapped in a nightmare of her own making. The smell of cinders was choking her, and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up, she thought as tears filled her eyes, clawed hands tightening around her arms. Nessa didn’t know how she’d ever again be able to stomach the smell of a fire cracking in the grate on a cold winter’s night, provided she lived to see another night, of course. The monster laughed then, laughed as if it were able to read her thoughts; as if it were able to sense her tears.
