Krampusnacht

Krampusnacht, or Krampus Night, is a celebration that dates back hundreds of years to Europe, where it was popular in Germany. It was suppressed for years, being forbidden at times by the Catholic Church, as well as by fascists in Europe during World War II.

The day is based on Krampus, a mythical beast that is half-demon and half-goat. Characteristically similar to some creatures in Greek mythology, it has fangs, horns, cowbells on its waist, and a switch made of birch sticks meant for whipping or swatting naughty children. On December 5th, Krampusnacht, Krampus descends with his beating switches and sack for all the naughty children. Krampus comes but once each year to each family.

"You girls need to clean up after yourselves, you are supposed to be grownups but the second you are in my house you are nothing but NAUGHTY CHILDREN!"

I was surveying the wreckage of my living room, and the pile of laundry from the dryer spilled casually onto the utility room floor because my daughter wanted a specific sweatshirt for her walk with her older sister, and the rest of the clean laundry is now scattered across the floor, some in the cat box.

My two daughters snickered and smirked, immune in the way of teenagers to cleaning related stresses.

Kate the elder taunted "What are you going to do, tell Santa on us?"

Alice smirked "You know you can't return anything you bought during Covid anyway, so we are still getting our presents."

Sometimes her practicality irritated me as much as her older sisters sass.

Today was December 5th, and I was planning on giving them their chocolate letters (a Deutsch custom to give chocolates to the children the Krampus didn't come for) but now I was mad.

"Tonight is Krampusnacht, and it won't be Santa I tell about your wickedness. It will be Krampus." I said "Mark my words, when he comes for you with his hooves and horns, with his birch switches and sack for naughty girls, you won't be laughing"

They had been raised on the old stories and for a second they felt fear, but then modern sensibilities let them scoff it off. Yet, as they withdrew, they cast furtive glances at the straw Yule goat on the TV, imagining now the horns on something more fierce and less safe.

I got over my anger at them about as swiftly as it arose. Being a redhead from birth I learned of my capacity for lightning mood swings and drama, the same that made Kate so much of a pain in my ass and constant source of strife between us. I learned to let go and admit my over reactions. I had put it behind me and when the girls had finally exhausted themselves playing some online game involving imposters or murder or something, I changed into my Mrs Klaus outfit.

I wasn't going out in public, so it was the cooler version (what Alice called my Slutty Santa costume, but the one for Girl Guide events was for outdoor winter activities and super sweaty around the house).

There was a fire in the fireplace, I had poured a generous brandy for myself as a reward for remembering the girls Chocolate letters. I was happy and smiling when I heard the sound.

Hooves. Stomping hooves, like great horses coming up the lane. There was a fog, terrible and cold, so thick and white I could scarce make out my neighbor's step across the lane. Inside the fog moved shadows flickering beneath torches.

There was another sound. Bells. Great cow bells sounded, with some sort of roaring, not like men. Deeper. Like a mix between bull and bear. The shadows stomped closer and fear filled me.

It was the Krampus. They marched in column of two down the lane, roaring as they came. How can I describe the atavistic terror and something else they inspire? Taller than men, yet strangely hunched on their goat legs. A great pack for wicked children was on their back, and great cow bells swung at their neck and from their wrists.

The wrists were thick, bound by cold iron bands from which dangled slave chains with dragging collars for the ones they will lead away. In the right hand were bundles of birch switches for the beating of naughty children.

The great goat horned head made the Christian Satan look like a much safer bet. Goat faced, with a long serpent tongue lolling and whipping in the air, its teeth flashed and snapped angrily, below burning, almost blazing eyes that showed all the hunger in the world, and no scrap of mercy. Their chests were soft furred like rabbits, over muscles hard and sculpted like a woman's wet dream of men, yet between their legs swung the cock of some beast. Like a bull or stallion, it hung in ridiculous potency like a threat and a promise combined. There was little doubt the punishment for wickedness could indeed be more than simple switching.

I watched as they came, stopping at my neighbors. One Krampus stalked in, the door slamming open at the touch of his hoof. From inside, not one parent awakened, but both boys screamed their lungs out as I heard the sound of switches. The little one went into to the sack, Timmy, and I saw the look of despair as his face alone stood out of the sack in tear filled misery. Tommy, the elder brother was collared on the lead chain of the Krampus, who yanked him forward, and lashed him mercilessly to keep the pace.

One stopped and turned at my door. I slammed it shut, and pressed myself against it. I screamed out.

"There are no wicked children here!" Regretting my words, I loved my daughters and would do anything to protect them.

The clanging of goat bells and stomping of hooves sounded the death knell of my hopes as they clopped up my steps.

BOOM, the door flew open, its locks magically disengaged, and my slutty Santa clad form sprawled inelegantly in the front hall.

My ass was up, my face down, and my little red thong was all that shielded my sex and bottom from the Krampus eyes, as the Santa suit really didn't cover much after taking the long detour around my 48G breasts.

I felt clawed hands tracing my ass cheeks and heard Krampus growl low and threatening.

"Wicked." He said as with a swat, he brought the birch branches down on my ass, and I felt the blood hot upon my arse. The pain was like a bolt of lightning to my brain, and I began to think fast.

"Wicked," Krampus growled, "but I am here for wicked children, how I never came to you I do not know. Tonight, I am here for two other."

He had come for my daughters! I couldn't allow it. I reached back and pulled my panties to my knees, and reached between my legs to spread my sex. The sight and scent of Krampus and his huge maleness was already having an affect on me, and I must use this to protect my children.

"I am the wicked one, the one who called, the one who begged for you to punish me. I am a wicked, wicked girl!" I gasped as I worked my fingers squishily into my moistening sex. I felt a goat face blowing hot breath upon my ass, and a wet nose drinking in the scent of my arousal. A hot wet, impossibly burning tongue traced the outline of my sex and forced between my fingers and into me.

I groaned, not faking, but overcome at the inhuman potency of his touch, and the humiliating position face down, ass up before Krampus in my own doorway.

He rumbled, "Wicked, wicked girl, do you call me of your own will to take such punishment as I please and you deserve?"

I knew the rules, he had no right to me. I was a woman grown, but I could waive my rights and offer myself to him to do with as he choose for all of this, his night. I knew all of this, but one thing more, and for that second thing, I begged him take me now.

"Krampus mighty Krampus, I am a woman wicked and impure, I beg you punish me and treat me in all ways as I deserve!" My breath was fast, my skin flushed and I wish I could say it was only fear, that it was pure virtue that made me offer myself in sacrifice, but it is dangerous to lie when gods are watching.

He grabbed my by my neck and dragged me down the stairs, somehow in those close confines he struck my ass thrice more as he brought me before the fire to my living room couch. Sitting in its middle like a king upon the throne, he pulled me across his knees until the great sheathed length of his burning hot cock pressed against the underside of my breasts. He took a length of chain from off his wrist and wrapped my own, with a stomp of his hoof, he trod upon the chain to hold me fast, wrists to his mighty hoof, breasts dangling off his lap with his hard cock rubbing against the underside, and my ass and pussy bare to his punishing right hand and switches.

Snarling he swore to me, "I play no games, whore-wife, and know the ways of your kind too well to be gentle" His rumbling voice was a threat that made me quake with fear, but set my sex afire, and mind alight.

How many strokes did he lay? I do not know. They punished so badly I could feel my arse redden and with tiny cuts, wet with my own blood. Yet his clawed other hand made free with my breasts, fondling, tweaking, twisting me. I whimpered in pain, in submission and in lust.

I felt his great chest working like a bellows as his goat nostrils drank in the scent, the rising treacherous scent of my slut-hood, of my arousal. My unchaste desire to be debased and used in this my own house, beneath the smiling wedding photo above the fireplace.

The punishing hand came down again, but this time there were no branches in it, this time his fingers explored my sex, long clawed thick finger probing my inner wetness and watching me buck and write on his lap helplessly.

Growling hungrily he rasped, "Wicked slut, you know your punishment is earned, and yet you want more do you not?" Krampus puffed, his breath coming in maddened gasps, his own control unequal to resisting the urges rising within his breast.

"Take me Krampus and spare my daughters. Take me here, or take me away, but I ask that you take me Krampus, take me right now!" I begged and I meant it heart and soul. On such a night, to Krampus, you cannot lie.

Taking me by my hair he raised me up and shook me. Gesturing at his cock, which would hang proud on any bull, he snarled at me.

"Mortal slut, do you think you can take such potency within? I would split you open like chopping wood." He was angry, believing I teased him. It would go poorly if he felt I mocked him, or sought to cheat what he was owed.

I dropped to my knees, I took his hard hot length in my hand and reached for the fear for it was a weapon no man could wield and what woman could take? No good woman. None but a slut would dare even try.

I kissed it, licked it. Lapped at its length as I pulled back his hairy foreskin and lapped around the hood, taking the head into my mouth with an almost obscene stretching of my jaw. I felt a moment of shock when the rich taste of his cock processed and I wondered idly if this was the source of the pumpkin spice craving all European women held.

Grabbing me by my hair he sought to pull away, but I sought to suck him down, and the resultant struggle left him thrusting back and forth in my mouth until with a groan of his own he yielded and let me suck him until the need for air drove me to let him go and pant like a dog in heat.

With a snarl he threw me face down across the arm of the couch, and his long tongue penetrated my pussy, lapping at my flowing sex like a thirsty hound. His finger replaced his tongue as his tongue began to rim my puckered asshole as he drove my sex ruthlessly now with two fingers, long and knobby.

I came screaming as his tongue rimmed my ass into abject surrender, and his fingers forced my poor married cunt to stretch in preparation to what would try it like nothing since childbirth. I came a second time before I felt him place his thick blunt head at the opening of my pussy, and it was only then I let fear overtake me and tried to bolt.

With a grunt his left hand forced me down and with his right he guided himself to my gate, and in three halting thrusts, battered it down.

I howled in pain and fear as he took me. He was too large you see. He did not care, I was given to him by my own will and word, and had no rights to resist him.

I felt him thrust now, little halting jabs, and felt me stretch around him, gripping, clenching, and oh my yes, flowing, as my own submissive nature responded to his primal ownership of me.

It ached, but burned in a good way. I was not really able to breathe, only half gasps as each thrust seemed to empty my lungs and brain both. Soon I was floating in helpless sensation, white fire blasting through body and mind with every thrust, only now I was pushing back, pushing into him.

Goat legs forward cant left him able to thrust deeper than any man, pulling back each thrust and driving me full length. He slapped a collar on my throat, and with his right hand pulled me back against him, with his left he drove a claw into my puckered ass to give me a counter point to every thrust in my womanhood.

I gave myself to him, and he used me like sleeve, like a receptacle for his raging cock. I loved it. I came so helplessly that I clamped and writhed around him like a thousand serpents made of tongues. He roared now and filled my sex with white hot cum.

Filled and more than filled, he pulled out and painted my back and ass with his cum, rubbed his cum into my bleeding ass cheeks and I could feel the magic of his cum healing me, restoring and reviving what had been ravaged.

When I could talk again, I slumped to the ground in front of him. As he sought to take off the collar on my neck, I stopped his hand.

"No lord. I have tricked you. Krampus comes to each house only once, and now that you have come for me you must leave. You must spare my daughters, but I will accept my punishment." I said it humbly, too tired and relieved to boast.

Krampus threw back his head and roared. I thought it rage, and feared him, yet it dissolved in to peals of laughter so dark and rich they shook the roof, and made my wedding photo fall on the mantle.

Laughing he spoke at last, "Wicked slut, wicked girl, you please me." He strode from my house and paused upon the walk to roar something at the other Krampus, who shouted back and roared laughter of their own. The sound of cow bells and stomping hooves drowned the crying of wicked children. The roaring stopped like someone flicked a switch when I came out.

Half wrapped in my slutty Santa suit, I came before my Krampus and I knelt.

"You may come only once upon any house, my Krampus. But now we are outside."

I took my breasts, so coated with sweat and drool and wrapped them about his mighty cock. I pressed them tight and with my hips and thighs drove myself to bounce up and down from my knees, working my breasts around his cock like my pussy.

Opening my mouth I took each thrust into it, welcoming tongue dancing and swirling around his precious head as he danced and swirled in my yearning ass and welcoming pussy.

I felt him clip the collar around my throat again, and whimpered in my need. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back to look me in the eyes as he pulled me off his cock. I looked up at him, blue eyes wide with naked need, and lapped at the mighty balls, so hairy and potent, before he dragged me back to his cock.

Breasts and mouth I worked him, gagging, spitting drooling until less than an animal I was myself, but after my legs began to burn and tingle from the winter cold, I felt the heat of his cock redouble and a blast of cum filled my mouth to overflowing. I swallowed convulsively and he pulled me off his cock to paint my face, breasts and hair with his cum. Opening my mouth like a baby bird, I caught what I could of his seed and eventually he finished and wiped his mighty organ on my face. The other Krampus had mostly passed, each slapping mine on the ass in goatly approval of his conquest.

Reaching down, he unclipped my collar, patted my head, and strode away. Stopping once, he looked back and said only this.

"You are a wicked slut, but a good mother. I would not have been easy upon your daughters this, my night."

Crying for reasons I cannot explain, on numb and unsteady legs, I went home and collapsed in front of the fire. Taking the chocolate letters from their hiding place, I placed them in the stockings at my daughters door.

My legs trembling, my face and body caked with and leaking cum. I could not go back to my husband's bed. I went down before the fire and fell asleep. Dreaming of my Krampus.