Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 087

Hi, all! Annabelle Hawthorne back with another episode of "Mike Radley fucks Christmas!"

Not that he's actually going to fuck a holiday. Sure, he banged a metaphorical genderbent representation of the Christmas day itself, but the actual holiday? Probably too silly.

*ahem*

New Reader? Here's what you need to know. I like to write stories with a lot of fighting and fucking, but put some actual plot in them. There's officially more than a hundred chapters of backstory (spinoffs!) to get to this one, so you may want to backtrack to the beginning.

Returning Reader? I missed you! Last chapter had some fun surprises. For instance, I hate it when I touch a Christmas tree and my hand gets sticky!

Speaking of sticky, thanks for sticking around and participating in my madness. I seriously, truly couldn't have gotten this far without the Lit community, and I love you for it. The comments and emails have been fantastic, and I still try to read all of them when I have time. I sometimes get someone who just binges the whole series and it's so much fun to read their reactions to stuff I wrote almost half a decade ago (yes, that's right)!

So don't forget to hit those stars if you had a good time. Check my bio for the publishing schedule, because I try really hard to get chapters out on time. The last thing I ever want to do is leave this wonderful community hanging!

On with the show!

Unraveling Threads

A cold chill crept up Mike's leg, waking him. After his meeting with Mrs. Claus last night, it had taken him a long time to fall asleep. His mind had been preoccupied with the Krampus problem, which meant hours spent brainstorming ideas. There was a lot riding on whatever happened next, but he and the others had desperately needed a proper rest.

When he tried to pull his foot back under the blanket, he realized that the comforter wasn't long enough. Lifting his head to see what had happened, he almost laughed. When he had gone to bed, it had just been him and Tink. Now, though, Kisa and Yuki were also under the covers as well. The limited space under the blanket had been monopolized by Yuki, who had pulled the covers up over her head.

He sat up and yawned. They were all in Santa's bed, which Mrs. Claus had let them use on the condition that they didn't have sex in it. Though his sleep had been restful, there certainly hadn't been enough of it.

"Good morning." The voice made him jump, and he looked over to see Holly sitting in a nearby chair. The elf's feet didn't reach the ground, and she kicked her legs back and forth while nursing a mug of cocoa. "Sleep well?"

"I guess." He looked at the others, who were still slumbering soundly. He heard the occasional snort from Tink, who was sleeping off all the alcohol and sugar from the day before. "What are you doing here?"

"Elves don't sleep much," she told him. "Mrs. Claus wanted me to keep an eye on you."

"Why?"

"Make sure nothing happened to you. I don't think Christmas Past is coming back, but there's still one spirit unaccounted for."

"Ugh, right." Mike rubbed his face, remembering what Mrs. Claus had told him. The Christmas spirits were just another part of Santa, temporal beings that didn't obey the rules of time or space. He wasn't certain if Christmas Future was still lost in the ducts or had simply wandered off, but could stand to be more cautious about a possible encounter.

He doubted he could influence the final specter as he had Christmas Present.

Being careful not to wake anyone, it took him a moment to slide free from the bed. He had to pull himself out of the top of the blankets, then move between the women until he was at the foot of the bed. Yawning, he went to pick up his pants and realized that he was naked in front of Holly. Mrs. Claus hadn't provided him with any sort of underwear, so he had been sleeping naked.

"Oh, wow, I'm sorry." He went to cover himself up, but saw that the elf wasn't offended. In fact, her cheeks had turned bright red, her intense gaze on his body. She stared at his cock, her lips parted slightly as she breathed through her mouth.

"Don't worry about it," she responded, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I don't mind."

He almost asked her to turn around or something, but remembered that time she had watched him plow Kisa on top of the jukebox. If she wanted to look at him, he wasn't going to stop her.

"So what's the plan today?" he asked, pulling on his clothes.

"Breakfast, first." Holly looked up at the window. "There's a terrible storm outside right now. We don't know if the Krampus is still lurking about."

"Right." Mrs. Claus had explained that the Krampus was afraid to face her directly over the fear of reverting to Santa. The process by which he transformed wasn't understood, but Mrs. Claus' relationship with her husband was so well defined that it would make perfect sense that she would be the one to pull him out of it.

That hadn't stopped the demon from banging on the front door for several hours. What the Krampus himself didn't know was that Mrs. Claus was afraid to face him because of his influence on the elves and reindeer. If they could be so easily corrupted, why not her? For now, the two were at a stalemate, and that gave him time to figure out a plan.

Finished with his clothes, he found the too-large slippers and put them on. Before getting into bed to sleep, he had searched for something else to wear on his feet, but had been unable to find any other footwear. Maybe shoes could be today's short-term goal.

Holly walked over to the door and waited. He looked at the others in bed, then back at the elf.

"What about them?"

Holly shrugged. "You're officially the most important person according to Mrs. Claus. I can't be everywhere at once."

Frowning, Mike looked back at the bed just as Kisa stirred.

"I can keep watch," Kisa mumbled, sitting up in bed and rubbing her eyes. The blanket fell down, revealing her bare breasts. "Your anxiety is buzzing around inside my head. It feels gross. If I sense danger, I'll wake up the fox. She can handle it."

"Thanks, Kisa." As they left, he was careful to shut the door quietly.

Holly walked by his side, but said nothing as they descended the stairs and went back into the kitchen. Mrs. Claus was already there, and had prepped a meal of bacon and eggs.

"Well?" she asked. "Did you sleep or break your promise?"

Mike felt heat rise in his cheeks. "We didn't do anything kinky in your bed, I swear."

Mrs. Claus looked over at Holly. Mike noticed immediately that the woman seemed older this morning. She was in a sexy Santa robe that revealed some extra wrinkles along her neck, and her hair had more streaks of white than it had last night.

"They were sleeping naked," Holly announced, then hopped up into a stool.

"We didn't exactly bring pajamas." Mike threw the snitch a dirty look and sat down next to her. "Besides, even if we had been in the mood, I was way too tired."

"We both know that's a lie." Mrs. Claus slid an empty glass in front of him. "Orange juice?"

"Yes, please." He waited while she made him a plate of food and then poured him some juice from a carafe kept beneath the counter. "We really didn't do anything, though."

"I believe you." Mrs. Claus winked. "And honestly, I don't know that I would blame you if I could. I've been married to a man obsessed with making toys for nearly a century. Maybe obsessed isn't the right word, though. It's so ingrained into his magic, he can't help himself. I imagine sex must be the same for you."

"I'm honestly not sure." He took a sip of orange juice and broke apart a piece of bacon before taking a bite. "Sex is at the core of my magic, but it's not like I'm compelled to do it."

"Hmm. Santa is always acting on some variation of his own magic. Technically, if it's Christmas related, he can accomplish it, that's how his magic works." She stared at the counter as if lost in thought. "Did you know that he helped stop a war once? It was only for a day. Both sides stopped fighting while he was there, then went right back to killing each other. It broke his heart, you know. He had watched each and every one of those men grow up as children."

"Wait, he can see every child on Earth?" Mike asked.

Mrs. Claus paused before answering. "Not in a literal sense. It's almost like he's plugged into them. Sometimes it breaks him. There are children out there who need help, but it sits right outside his ability to intervene. That's why people notice so many miracles during Christmas, he's trying to make up for missed opportunities. Still, he's only one person."

Mike almost corrected her by saying two, but realized that Holly was nearby. What would the elf do if she found out the Krampus was Santa? And if Holly was technically just some offshoot of Santa, did that mean she could transform into something similar?

A more chilling thought occurred to him. If Santa could sense every child, so could the Krampus.

"What does the Krampus want, exactly?" he asked. "In general terms. I've heard the spirits reference the true meaning of Christmas, but that's hardly specific."

Mrs. Claus looked at him for a moment, then sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure. Not to end Christmas, for obvious reasons." Her eyes flicked to Holly and back. "It has to be related to punishing children."

"This seems like a long way to go just to smack some kids around. And what about the devil cookies? Is he just keeping the elves busy, or is there some bigger plan?"

"I don't know. You see--" Mrs. Claus was cut off when Christmas Present appeared, blasting the room with sparkling light and the smell of candy canes. She dropped a pair of envelopes onto the counter, flashed Mike her breasts, and then disappeared.

"What in the..." Mike picked up the envelopes and saw that one was addressed to him and the other to Mrs. Claus. "Why the letters?"

"I'm not sure. Time is flowing much slower here. It could just be that she couldn't get away for long. A minute here is easily an hour out there on delivery." Mrs. Claus opened her letter and frowned. "Okay, so this changes things."

"What's up?" He hadn't opened his letter yet.

"We knew that Frost was helping the Krampus, but it would seem that Jólakötturinn, Grýla, and the Yuletide lads are also part of it. Your friends were making deliveries, but the sleigh is under attack and can't land anywhere with snow."

"What? Who?" He almost snatched the letter from her hand to read it himself, but remembered his own. Ripping open the paper, he unfolded a piece of Christmas stationary and read it.

Romeo, it began. How are you? I hope you've been having a great time at the North Pole. Death and I have been busting our behinds delivering presents to brats across the world. No big deal, it will only take us years to finish.

That's sarcasm, by the way. I am not happy about it, and you owe me big. I'm talking a tropical vacation, or maybe give me permission to eat my way through a prison. Your choice.

Anyway, Dancer and that glorious giantess who smells like you have been a big help. They are speeding up deliveries, but not anywhere cold because of a fudging snowman army. Oh, right, Death tricked me into wearing a hat that won't let me swear, even if I write it. Fudge. Shirt. See?

Mike noticed several half-scrawled swears along the perimeter of the paper and bit his lip to avoid laughing.

Christmas Present will act as a correspondent, but we need her help too much, so it's letters only for now. After not delivering presents for a couple of days, the sleigh started to fall out of the sky. So we have to stay busy to keep from crashing it. The ghost and the reindeer helped us catch up, but we're in trouble if we lose them. These weird potato dudes and a giant cat are trying to take Santa's sack from us. They suck, by the way.

Speaking of Christmas Present, this woman is a gift. She was supposed to give you a special message from me, I hope you liked it.

Lily had signed her name with a flourish and a kiss. Beneath her name, she had written more.

P.S. We let the dog out, they're pulling our sleigh right now. Good luck finding someone to give them their shots.

"Cerberus?" Mike set the letter down and stared at it. Mrs. Claus was still reading her own letter, her cheeks now flushed.

"Seriously, Death and a hellhound?" She looked over the top of her glasses at him. "And a succubus? Just what kind of house are you running, Caretaker?"

"One where we don't give a damn about what other people think." He saw Holly flinch, reminding him that she was still there. "Sounds like the sleigh is running out of magic."

"It's the number one rule. Santa's magic must be used for Christmas. That includes the sleigh and the dimensional bag. If they've just been circling, it..." She took off her glasses and groaned. "Why does my head hurt so bad all of the sudden?"

"Lack of sleep?" Concerned, Mike stood and moved to the other side of the counter just as Mrs. Claus' eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed. He caught her by the arms as Holly leapt down from her stool.

"This way," she said, then held open the door to the main room. Mike dragged Mrs. Claus, suddenly aware of how light she felt. Holly adjusted some pillows on a recliner and Mike set the older woman down on it.

"Hey, are you okay?" When she didn't respond, he looked around for something to give her, but realized he didn't know what to do. Holly took Mrs. Claus by the hand and held it. The woman's eyes fluttered open, and she looked back and forth at the two of them.

"How did we get here?" she asked.

"You're really tired," Mike said. "You got light-headed is all."

"I don't sleep during Christmas. Don't need to." She smiled sadly. "It's a common belief that Mrs. Claus stays up all night and waits for her husband to come home. If something as simple as a couple of days made me sleepy, I would drop dead long before my husband got home. I'm afraid it's something else."

She took a deep breath, and Mike watched more streaks appear in her hair.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I think...he's draining the magic away from my husband." Mrs. Claus closed her eyes as if to sleep, but kept talking. "I don't know how, but I suddenly feel so...old. My bones are weary, and I can feel the soft pull of oblivion calling my name. With so much of the North Pole under the Krampus' control, it's only a matter of time before he surpasses Santa in strength. Once that happens, I will cease to exist."

"No!" Holly put her hands over her mouth.

"I'm afraid it's true." Mrs. Claus opened her eyes and looked at Mike. "Unlike the elves, I am just a mere extension. All he needs to do is wait until I'm gone and the North Pole will be his. Once that happens, there will be no one to stand in his way."

"How long do we have?" he asked.

Mrs. Claus frowned. "I don't know. But I'm not gone yet." She took a deep breath and sat forward. "I would love to hear some ideas."

Mike examined the woman, then opened his senses to the magic surrounding her. He could see the festive ribbons around her body, as if she was woven from several strands of thread. Several of them had become frayed, wispily drifting about as if caught in a breeze.

Staring at those threads, he wondered if he could touch them. They looked similar to his own magic from before, and he was relatively certain that manipulating them wouldn't cause the same outcome.

"You're staring," Holly said.

"Shh." He held up a finger for silence, then moved his hands across Mrs. Claus' body. She followed his movements, but didn't react when the strands passed through his hands.

"Damn," he muttered. What was different? Was it because he had previously been manipulating his own magic?

"Your eyes are glowing," Holly whispered.

"Probably." He shrugged off her comment and returned his attention to the unraveling threads. What if he could tuck them in or something? How would he even do such a thing?

He felt his magic awaken, sensing his need. Mrs. Claus had closed her eyes again, her skin suddenly pale.

Could his magic touch hers? She was a construct of belief, but still a living being. How would she react if he accidentally zapped her? Contemplating the problem, he watched in horror as one of the threads came undone, as if someone had tugged the free end of it.

Holding out his hands, he summoned the magic into his fingertips, then extended them outward. He could hear the air crackle with magic as he tried to pinch one of the hovering threads with his illusory fingers.

"Yes!" It had taken a couple attempts, but the thread was now firmly trapped between his spectral digits. He thought about how he had looped his magic back into himself and decided to do the same thing with Mrs. Claus. Her magic sustained her existence, so he doubted she would turn into a cum fountain.

And if this backfired, at least she'd be coming while she was going.

"Not the time," he muttered, chastising himself for the inappropriate thought. Sweat had broken out across his brow as he delicately tucked the exposed thread into the tapestry that was Mrs. Claus, taking care to weave it back into her core. While he did this, he looked at the bun on her head, thinking about how a stray strand of hair could easily be put back in place.

The woman sighed, then took a deep breath as Mike continued to snare the loose threads. Strangely, manipulating her magic almost felt like second nature as he grabbed the unraveling thread and actually braided it back together before tucking it in. His concentration was total, and he barely noticed that his legs were shaking beneath him.

The color returned to her cheeks as he finished up. Smiling, he felt the magic leave him, the room now spinning around him.

"Gah!" Holly tried to catch him as he fell, only to end up on top of him. Her concerned features filled his tunnel vision, and he couldn't help but notice that her magic was similar to Mrs. Claus'. Where the older woman had come undone and was frayed, Holly was a tight package bound in ribbons just waiting to be opened.

Moments passed, and Holly sat up, her legs spreading wide to accommodate his torso. She held two fingers up in front of him, but all he could think about were the candy-cane tights that now filled his peripheral vision.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" she asked.

"Two," he replied, then closed his eyes. "Sorry, I'm not sure why I'm so tired."

"Manipulating magic directly is hard work," Yuki replied. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

Mike opened his eyes and saw Yuki standing over by the stairs, her arms crossed over her chest. The kitsune was wearing a robe she had borrowed from the wardrobe upstairs, the letters SC embroidered on the chest.

"Whatever he did, I feel much better." Mrs. Claus leaned over the side of the chair to look at Mike. A few of the years she had put on were gone now, the wrinkles along her neck faded. "Though I suspect he only bought me some time."

Yuki muttered to herself in Japanese, then helped Holly stand. Mike noticed the crotch of Holly's tights had a snowflake on it.

"What am I going to do with you?" Yuki knelt by Mike's side and tilted her head. "Hey, look at me, I can see magic for the first time, so maybe I should touch it? Maybe move it around."

"She was dying," he replied. "I thought I could help."

"All I ask is five minutes. Five minutes to wake me up and fill me in. I could have walked you through your first time, it would have been so gentle. Ah, geez, you're all wet." Yuki put her hand against his forehead. "No fever, though."

"Fever?" Holly asked.

"Yeah, fever." Yuki stood and moved to Mrs. Claus. "How do you feel? What was happening?"

Mrs. Claus gave an explanation that was satisfactory, and Yuki returned to Mike.