The Krampus Comes For Rachel (sample)

Summary: Rachel has heard about The Krampus from her older sisters and now she’s finally eighteen. She’s been a naughty slut all year and she thinks she’s ready for the punishment to come!

The Krampus arrives, in all his bestial, powerful, and punishing glory. Rachel will have her teen ass whipped with birch rods, then her punishment will really start when The Krampus uses his cock to teach her a lesson.

Will Rachel change her ways? Will she stay off the naughty list? Or does she want to stay naughty and keep the Krampus coming back to punish her more?

***

Rachel had heard stories about the Krampus from all of her older sisters. How the beastly, hairy, monstrosity would barge into their bedrooms on Christmas night, whip their tender asses with birch branches, punish them for all the naughty things they’d done over the course of the previous year.

Her hands roamed her slender body, one settling on her breasts and the other between her tight thighs. Her brunette hair splayed out behind her head on the white pillow and eggshell sheets. She closed her dark-brown eyes and bit her lower lip while she thought about all the naughty things she’d done that year.

“I’m eighteen now. You have to come and punish me. You have to! Just like my sisters. Please, Krampus,” she whispered while she stroked her middle finger across her clit. “Please! I need to be punished. I’ve been the naughtiest slut this year!”

A crunching of snow and a cracking of twigs from outside woke her from her daydreams. The clatter of cloven feet, leaping through the air and landing on her windowsill followed before her eyes had even finished flashing open. A breeze as cold and sharp as a blade of winter ice cut across the room, then the window slammed shut again.

Towering over her was a beastly creature, hairy, with the legs of a goat, covered in black fur. On his head, above a gruesome face, sprouted two horns. His chest, a pair of massive pectorals, heaved with each breath he took in and out of his fanged mouth and lead to a stomach so strong, she wasn’t sure how many ripples it had.

Above all us, beyond the birch rods he held in one hand, beyond the heady smell of an animal in lust, beyond even his narrow, unblinking eyes, the thing that held her attention most was the massive cock hanging between his powerful legs. Not an animal cock, she was sure it was in every form a man’s, but unlike any she’d seen before in size. It looked more like an arm than a cock to her and she saw it was twitching and growing as the beast glared down at her.

“Rachel,” his voice was like stones dragged over coals. “You have been a naughty slut this year and it is time you were punished.”

She backed up against her headboard, for a moment uncertain if she was truly ready for what was to come, but she knew it was time. She knew it was a time she’d been planning for, hoping for, and being bad in all the best ways to bring about.

She knelt on her bed, her shapely breasts thrust out, her nipples hard with the cold and her excitement, and placed her hands on her knees.

“Yes, Krampus. I have been a naughty slut,” she said, looking into his bestial eyes.

Within the space of one blink, he had moved across the room, taken hold of Rachel by her slender waist in one of his great hairy hands, and sat upon the bed, tossing her over his lap. She felt his cock, already long and thick, grow harder, wider, and longer still as she struggled to look back.

He raised the birch rods he held in one hand high, and in a blur, brought them down on her plush ass, filling the room with the crack of the wood on her skin and her muffled screams as she pressed her face into his rock-hard and furry thigh.

“Naughty sluts must be punished by the birch. They must have their tender asses red with welts and their faces stained with tears,” he said then brought the birch down on her young flesh again.

Rachel screamed out, knowing her sisters were listening to every sound of her torment, ready for their turn with the Krampus. She squirmed, begged, moaned, and yelp as he tore into her ass with what seemed like endless strikes from his birch rod whip.

He spoke to her the entire time, but his words became little more than a soundtrack for her pain and lost meaning within the first few strokes. Her hands, reckless and lost to their own desperate grasping, soon found his thigh and his great, pulsating, cock.

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