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So, you think you know the true story of Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer? Perhaps you've read the original poem by Robert Lewis May written in anapestic tetrameter, heard some version of Johnny Mark's song, seen the video adaptation by Rankin/Bass Productions, or maybe even read a little fan fiction on the subject. Feeling confident you got it all down pat? Well then, you'd better brace yourself for a shock, because all that crap is little better than sugar and tinsel coated fluff designed to conceal the hard core carnality behind Rudolph's real origin story that I guarantee is not SFW.

Who am I? How dare I tread so brazenly upon your cherished childhood beliefs? What makes me an expert? You ask a lot of questions, kid, and it's not my habit to talk to humans let alone impart to your kind secrets from the Recondite Realms, but I've become persnickety in my old age and can't abide people believing things that just aren't true. It is high time that someone set the record straight. I'm even in a pleasant enough mood to answer your ridiculous questions and attempt to cure your ignorance.

First, my name. Of course I have one, but it would mean nothing to you, and when said in the proper tone and pitch much of it is beyond your range of hearing anyway, though you humans have given me many titles that serve well enough. Some of my favorites are Tilki, Renard, Zorro, Syala, Naali, and Liška.

Figured it out yet? I am Vulpes lagopus sapiens. In the vernacular, an anthro-arctic fox. That's right. I'm that adorable, cute, white, fluffy little guy with the big, bushy tail that lives in the northern circumpolar regions of your planet. If you've ever encountered me, you saw only a small dog-like creature running through the snow or across the barren tundra hunting lemming, voles, hares, etc., except, as the "sapiens" part of my Latin name implies, I am astoundingly intelligent. Since I prefer my quasi-human form, that is how I present myself to you today.

How do I morph between these states? Magic of course, foolish hominid. Originating from the same mystical domain as Santa, I'm positively infused with what some of your kind refer to as witchcraft, voodoo, thaumaturgy, or sorcery. Don't ask for a better explanation than that. You don't have the life span to spend on a detailed metaphysical explanation. Just be content that I am wise and knowledgeable, certainly infinitely more so than you.

It is also enough to know that, when on Earth, I live within the same geographic locale as Santa. The precise location is a secret, but I will divulge that it is not the North Pole. No one and nothing lives in that patch of perpetually frozen ocean. Santa and I prefer a more terrestrial habit just like you humans, though he and I share a fondness for the cold that your kind generally dislike. Our abode could be in the arctic regions of North America, Europe, or Asia, but I'll never tell, and you'll never find it, cleverly concealed as it is.

Those of us who derive from within the Recondite Realms (including Santa Claus) know there is more to reality than what you humans have gleaned from your limited experience and scientific inquiries. You'll figure it out eventually, but until then, you have to believe me. Isn't that integral to the Santa myth anyway? Belief?

The answer is yes, so no more probing questions or I'll leave you adrift in your sappy ignorance forever.

And one more item. I am not Santa's pet. Put that ridiculous thought out of your head forever. I am his equal; superior in some aspects, inferior in others. My Christmas purpose is none of your concern. Just think of us as cosmic and compatible companions on an ages old journey.

There. I have answered enough of your questions. Now, sit respectfully and listen to my tale.

The reindeer that Santa employs to pull his sleigh live with him both within and without the Recondite Realms and can exist (like me) in two forms: the familiar animal one of Rangifer tarandus, and their anthropomorphic form, which they prefer to assume when not pulling Santa's sleigh. It was in this latter guise that the reigning eight of Santa's team first met Rudolph.

Anthro-reindeer society is similar to that of their feral cousins, being herd based with social stratification determined by fitness for mating. Leaders emerge by winning physical contests. Hence the polite term "games" has been given by humans to what are really battles for supremacy and mating rights.

Barbaric, I know. Choosing a lifetime mate and generally honoring the concept of monogamy is one of the few places you humans and I agree, but reindeer are what they are, and their desire to mate with nearly anything of four (or two) legs, regardless of sex, explains a lot about Rudolph's story.

Reindeer in either of their forms cannot naturally fly. Santa's magic is needed to do that, and he only grants that ability when they are feral. Because pulling Santa's sleigh is considered by all reindeer of the Recondite Realms to be an extraordinary honor, one's status in the heard is boosted mightily by being picked to harness up on Christmas Eve. Those who make the cut are considered the best of the best, and their already outsized arrogance increases exponentially as does their desire to maintain their status even if that requires brutality, subterfuge, and ostracizing others of their own kind.

You can well imagine how threatened the current team was when Santa entered the stable (think of it more as a posh ski chalet than a barn) and dropped Rudolph in their laps one Christmas Eve in the middle part of the twentieth century with nothing more for explanation than "The elves say this one looks promising. Train him up, double time, and we'll see what he's good for."

Eight reindeer. That's a critical number. There had always been eight, and everyone was pretty sure there would never be more than eight, so Rudolph's presence implied one of the existing team was going to be replaced, and none of the tight knit octet wanted to surrender their hard won prestige.

Aggravating their disposition, stress and anxiety on that night already pervaded all levels of Santa's organization including the elite sled team. The upcoming annual journey was rumored to be in jeopardy from the foul, foggy weather, the exploding number of humans they were obligated to visit in one night, and competition for airspace by mankind's cluttering of the skies with more and more of their vexing flying machines. There was serious doubt as to the team's ability to complete the journey in one night, slowed as they were by lack of visibility and the heightened danger of mid-air collisions.

You're probably thinking right now that the reason for Rudolph's presence should have been obvious to the veterans because Rudolph had his shiny red nose glowing right in front of their eyes, but once again, you would be wrong, and on more than one point. First, reindeer don't have noses like humans, they have snouts. Second, the tip of Rudolph's was just as furry as any buck's. They do all have a dense packing of blood vessels near the tips of their snouts that can lead to a reddish hue under the right conditions, but Rudolph's distinguishing differences at this point in his story were his youth, diminutive size, and his sissy clothes. High hemmed skirts and midriff revealing tops were not often seen on male reindeer. Being differently attired did make Rudolph's snout blush a bit, but it was really his age and build that set him apart from the gigantic adults in the room.

By virtue of the selection criteria emphasizing physical prowess over all other traits, only the strongest, fastest, most agile, and longest-enduring pulled the big guy's sleigh. Donner and Blitzen bulged with muscle; Dasher and Comet led the pack in speed; Vixen (one of the three females) and Cupid kept the team flying straight and on course; and Dancer and Prancer (the other two does) never tired, being able to keep the rig moving when their exhausted comrades took turns resting in mid flight.

Consequently, they were all natural athletes and large for their kind. Even the females stood a head taller than little Rudolph, while the males, Dasher, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen, were like titans out of legend compared to the puny interloper. The latter two adults were not only twin brothers, they were the meanest, most dominating reindeer in Santa's employ.

As de facto leaders, they always rode at the head of the team, so it was they who set the tone for what proved to be a pivotal, if very trying day for poor Rudolph. Flanking the nervous new recruit, the pair of bruisers, intimidating with their impressive racks and their roguish attire of leather pants and muscle tees, poked and tugged at Rudolph's unusual apparel, mocking its appearance.

"What's with the red velvet and white fur?" asked Donner while he and Blitzen flicked the jingle bells sown into the outfit's fuzzy hems.

Synchronized in everything they did, the twin's managed to make the tiny musical ornaments sound out a credible rendition of Santa Claus is Coming to Town. Brazenly lifting Rudolph's skirt, Blitzen exposed Rudolph's matching bikini briefs and giggled at the plush, ivory trim.

"Yeah," he teased. "You a reindeer or an elf?"

The pair's braying laughter was echoed by the others.

"Uh. Well," Rudolph blushed and his snout burned redder but not enough to be truly remarkable (yet). "I had no idea what your dress code was, so I asked the elves for help, and they made me this. They never wear pants, you see, and I don't think they understood what I meant by a kilt."

Rudolph realized he was babbling like a dweeb. Attempting to save some dignity, he added, "At least it looks a bit like what Santa wears."

"More like what Mrs. Santa wears when she wants a little action from her hubby," quipped Vixen sardonically, initiating another bout of guffaws at little Rudolph's expense.

Being the sexiest of the team, Vixen lounged upon a divan twirling a lock of her long red hair. Unused to such raw, unconstrained beauty, Rudolph deserves forgiveness for his mesmerized stare. To the innocent adolescent, Vixen was the earthly incarnation of Venus, Helen of Troy, Cleopatra, and every ancient fertility goddess combined into one divine visage.

Like her lead teammates, she was dressed incongruously in relation to Rudolph's expectation of those under Santa's authority. Nothing covered her opulent breasts or any part of her upper body beyond an elaborate collar of hammered gold beset with gems and dangles of pearls. Bracers and bangles of varied precious metal adorned her antlers and arms. Over her curvaceous hips and loins, she wore only the skimpiest and sheerest of lavender panties. Matching sandals, bound to her legs with cross-gartered silk ribbon reaching half way up her thighs concealed nothing of her long sinuous legs.

Rudolph gaped. Like a young buck opening a catalog at Christmas expecting a wholesome Currier and Ives scene, but instead beholding a page from Victoria's Secret, he was spell struck and paralyzed with guilty delight.

Dancer and Prancer wore little more to conceal their feminine delights and soon drew away his easily titillated attention. Pumping iron to heavy metal music that was decidedly un-Christmassy, their skimpy, tight, pink and black exercise gear accented the trim lines of their toned bodies with erotic provocation equal to Vixen's.

Taking the ruling fashion trend to its logical extreme, Dasher and Comet, soaking in a hot tub, were buck (pardon the pun) naked, though Rudolph could not initially verify this fact through the turbulent water and foam. Cupid, being the lone, fully dressed exception, lay upon a couch opposite Vixen in baggy sweats and an over-sized hoodie smoking something that Rudolph was pretty sure was guaranteed to get even the most virtuous on Santa's naughty list.

"I...I suppose...," stammered little Rudolf, "I suppose I could change into something else if you have some spare clothes."

"Yeah," chortled Dasher. "Vixen's panties would look great on you."

The whole team shared the third in a long series of deprecating laughs. When the cruel merriment subsided, Comet assumed an expression full of false sympathy.

"Don't feel bad," he said while patting the smooth rim of the tub. "Come over here. Take your clothes off where my pal and I can see. Then jump in and relax a bit."

"Ha. Ha," laughed Rudolph nervously as he backed towards the stable door. "I didn't bring a swimsuit."

"Where ya goin'?" asked Donner placing a firm hand upon the diminutive buck's shoulder, stopping Rudolph dead in his tracks. "It's rude to refuse an invite like that, especially when phrased so sweetly. You don't have to be frightened; we're just razzing you 'cause we want to be all collegial-like to a fellow reindeer."

"Yeah," added Blitzen. "Won't you please stay a while with us?"

Even when being polite, the brothers were intimidating, and Rudolph was finding Donner and Blitzen's manner of finishing each other's thoughts disorienting, not to mention how hard it was to tell the twins apart. Except for a vague, black lightning bolt-shaped patch of fur on Blitzen's right bicep, he was indistinguishable in appearance, tone, and timbre from his brother.

"O...o...okay. Gosh. You had me going there for a moment. Thanks. I suppose I should stay. Santa was most insistent that I'm now one of you."

Donner's gaze hardened for a brief instant, then he winked to the others behind Rudolph's back.

"Did he now? Well. That makes everything different and clears up what we have to do."

"It does?" wondered Rudolph in naive bewilderment.

"Yeah," interjected Blitzen while trying to hide his mirth. As if sharing a telepathic link, he correctly surmised what his brother was plotting. "You need to be properly initiated."

Donner's wicked grin confirmed Blitzen's intuition.

"Exactly. Initiation. We have a special way of doing that to test your prowess; very important if you want to help haul Santa's sleigh around the whole world in one night, but first, you need to relax and loosen up in the hot tub with Dasher and Comet."

The suggestion seemed harmless enough except for the hungry stares Rudolph received from the pair of bathers, who licked their lips and hung over the jacuzzi's rim to ogle him better. Pushed forward gently but insistently by the intimidating brothers, Rudolph reluctantly inched towards the tub. Eyeing its leering occupants suspiciously, he planted his hooves to halt just beyond arm's reach.

"You coming in with your clothes on or in your birthday suit like us?" asked Dasher.

"Yeah," added Comet. "You got something to be ashamed of?"

Giggling at their own joke, the pair shared a quick kiss.

"No...and no again...I mean no to both," answered Rudolph making no move to undress.

"Go on," urged Donner. "Everyone'll be naked soon enough."

"We will?" wondered Rudolph as he warily removed his shirt. He paused without lowering his skirt, pondering how he would retain his underwear for modesty.

"Have a gay old time with the boys," said Blitzen, "while my brother and I warm up with the girls."

"Gay? Boys? Do you mean...?"

Rudolph turned away from the tub to see the workout girls, Dancer and Prancer, tossing aside the last of their tights, exposing their most thrilling virtues. The muscular curves of their thighs and the tantalizing tuft of white fur atop their sex stirred a warm urging in his loins.

"Wait. Girls? Warmed up? I think I'd prefer that. Maybe I should join Vixen on the lounge..."

Rudolph began to move towards the recumbent goddess, but two sets of hands clutched him from behind. Drawing him backward, Dasher and Comet pinned Rudolph's tail against the pool's deck surround.

"Nope. Sorry, little bro," said Donner from where he stood with Dancer in his burly arms. False empathy dripped from his words like peppermint syrup. "Vixen always starts with Cupid, and that only leaves one girl apiece for my brother and I."

"You don't want to fracture that beautiful symmetry now do you?" asked Blitzen, while groping at Prancer's round buttocks.

Rudolph was certain that he did, but feared arguing with the huge bucks. Besides, he was too busy struggling against the bathing duo who were dragging his skirt down to his ankles. Its narrow waistband effectively bound his legs restricting his movement further. Rendered helpless, he was subjected to their firm but careful manhandling.

"Don't worry," added Donner with an ominous laugh. "You'll get a chance with all of us before we're done."

Rudolph swallowed hard. A chance with the does sounded fun, but he was less certain about the bucks. They were all so large and frightening.

"All of you..." whimpered Rudolph.

Four wet hands held him prisoner while stroking the soft fur on his stomach and thighs.

"He's so small and tender, like a fawn," cooed Dasher.

"Yeah. Such a pretty little boy," purred Comet. "Lean and clean. I bet he swims like a fish. Let's find out."

"First, we need to remove these," chided Dasher as he tugged downward on the furry white hem of Rudolph's red briefs.

"What a cute little sheath he has," added Comet as he stroked its length and tickled the tip of Rudolph's slightly extruded penis.

Biting his lip, Rudolph sought to cover his genitals with his hands but the bathing bucks pinned his small wrists behind his back. Was his growing erection a response to seeing the girls naked, or the amorous advances of his jailers? He couldn't say, but either way, embarrassment over his exposure made his snout redden until it nearly matched his swelling penis.

"Someone's happy to meet us after all," laughed Dasher.

With Comet's help, he hauled their naked and quasi-reluctant captive over the slick plastic lip of the tub and into the churning water. Floating on his back, Rudolph's boner stood high and proud above the tempestuous waves like the mast of a sailing ship.

"Not bad," admitted Donner from across the room, his own cock already fully engorged thanks to the ministrations of Dancer's nimble tongue.

"It's a pity he'll never keep it up through all we're going to give him," added his brother.

"Hey, man," interjected Cupid snapping out of his weed induced torpor to join the conversation. "That reminds me. I've got some dank elf shit just for this kind of emergency. Guaranteed to keep it hard for hours."

Fumbling about among the couch cushions, Cupid produced a small, gem bespangled, red velvet bag. Inside was a tiny clear flask stopped with a cork sealed by wax. A thick, pearlescent liquid churned sluggishly within like the contents of a lava lamp.

"I was saving it for our victory party tomorrow, but, since Santa's most likely gonna cancel tonight, I'm inclined to take this pleasure now. There's only an ounce or two, but we can give a mega dose to the runt and save a few drops each for ourselves."

"Does it work on us gals?" purred Vixen.

Cupid flashed her a lecherous grin brimming with mischief.

"As if you ever tire, you horny nymphomaniac, but the answer is yes. My pointy-eared alchemist supplier assures me that it enhances both sex's pleasure receptors. The mildest physical stimulation becomes the most extreme sensuous and euphoric bliss. It's fucking mind-blowing ecstasy, babe."

"Count me in then," demanded Vixen holding forth her goblet of wine.

Dancer and Prancer had to unlock their lips from the twins' throbbing cocks to chime in with an "Us too" before hungrily clamping down again on their prizes.

"Whoa!" urged Blitzen, but not to Prancer, who was busy swallowing his entire shaft. "That elf magic always has weird side effects."

"You never know what freak out's gonna grip you when you take a trip to Middle Earth," finished Donner.

"Hmm," mused Cupid. "That's true, but what's the worst that can happen?"

"This little virgin will pop before we're half done with him, that's what," pouted Dasher, standing half veiled by steam while holding his cock up to Rudolph's snout. Poor Rudolph was held firmly in place upon Comet's lap, the buck's growing erection sliding along the little deer's taint.

"Yeah. We want him to last," added Comet. "My vote's for elf magic."

"Six to two, little bro," said Donner to Blitzen. "Do we go with the majority?"

After only a brief delay, he answered, "Oh hell. Sure. Why not? Dancer's mouth feels super fine, but if the elves got something to make it better than this, I want it."

Having achieved consensus, Cupid poured the entire contents of the elf potion into Vixen's goblet. The wine fizzled and sizzled before turning bright blue. Digging behind the wet bar, Cupid retrieved a set of eight shot glasses. A few milliliters of the azure liquid went into each before he distributed them among his teammates.

"Skoal!" he shouted before downing the dangerously fortified wine.

Echoing his toast, his teammates swallowed their portions. Like Appalachian moonshine, the concoction burned going down, then blossomed to a spreading, tingling nova of warmth reaching every nerve ending and synapse in seconds.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Cupid. "This is seriously potent shit. Now for you, Rudolph." Bringing the young buck the half full chalice, he added, "There's plenty left," but found an obstacle confounding him.

Dasher, in his eagerness, had already shoved his cock deep down Rudolph's throat.

"Hey, Dasher! Cool your jets. He ain't ready. He needs a hit of this first."

"Heh. Heh. Sorry," apologized the abashed buck while withdrawing. "Just hurry up and give him his medicine so I can get back at him. This blue juice has me seriously jonesing for sex."

"Mind if I start at this end?" asked Comet as he rubbed the tip of his cock against Rudolph's clenched tailhole.

Cupid shrugged, but Rudolph, struggling to catch his breath, protested.

"I mind," he sputtered. "I'm not into butt stuff or drugs."

"You get no opinion, man," scolded Cupid. To Dasher he commanded, "Tilt his head back and hold his mouth open."

Dasher obliged using Rudolph's dainty antlers for leverage, and the thick cascade of elixir slid easily into Rudolph's gullet. Coughing and gagging, enough came back up to paint the adolescent buck's fiery snout like a demented artist's impression of a clear sky at sunset.

As with the other reindeer, the drug's effect on Rudolph was immediate, but it was also infinitely more profound. Expanding like pools of spilled ink, the irises of his eyes filled all the space between his wide open lids. Pleasurable sensory input magnified a hundred fold, while pain and discomfort were effectively blocked. The heat of the jacuzzi was nothing compared to the raging wildfire sweeping through his body, burning with greatest intensity at his most erogenous zones.

Growing noticeably longer and thicker, his shaft pulsed in Comet's water wrinkled palms, which felt to the hyper-stimulated teen like velvet gloves. The tip of Comet's cock tickled his tailhole in a most delightful, if unexpected, way. In response, his tight sphincter relaxed, opening wide to suck the probing tool inside.

"Yeah baby! That did the trick," exclaimed Comet. "Thanks, Cupid."

"Don't mention it, man."

"Sweetest, tightest bit of virgin ass I've ever had," Comet exclaimed as Prancer giggled and refilled Rudolph's yawning maw with his thick slab of meat.

Cupid chortled to himself, admiring his handiwork upon the three way hot tub action until a hand on his shoulder insistently turned him away. It was Vixen, naked, panting with desire, and dripping wet between her thighs.

"I'm so horny, I want to fuck every reindeer in Christmas-town," she moaned while fingering herself. "What did the elves put in this stuff?"

Not waiting for Cupid's reply, she forced her lips upon his. Unable to answer, Cupid surrendered to the pleasure of entangling his tongue with hers. Impelled by the drug boiling in their veins, impulsive hands groped, squeezed, and prodded every inch of their bodies in a frenzy of exploration. During the melee, Cupid lost his clothes, and Vixen stroked his shaft to full tumescence. Only then did she release his lips and gasp for air.

"It's never been like this before," she huffed while climbing into his arms and guiding his glistening red missile into her silky silo.

The orgy was now in full swing and destined to be legendary even by reindeer standards. Donner and Blitzen soon had Dancer and Prancer bent doggy style (or feral reindeer style if you wish) over a workout bench.

Rudolph, until this Christmas Eve, had been a shy virgin barely able to appreciate an orgasm, but once the elf aphrodisiac hit his bloodstream, he became a voracious sexual dynamo. Grinding down on Comet's lap and greedily caressing Dasher's cock with his tongue, Rudolph usurped the role of aggressor, rapidly bringing the two experienced bucks to climax.

Their cocks jerked violently. Gouts of hot salty, semen shot down Rudolph's throat. From behind, the same filled his bowels.

Panting heavily, but unflagging where it counts, the two bathers traded places determined to quench the runt's enthusiasm. Rudolph enjoyed the encore and each repeat performance exactly as if it were his very first time, frustrating the efforts of his tormentors to break his spirit.

"Six times in a row. I'm almost drained, and this tiny fairy's still going strong," complained Comet.

"Hey, punk," admonished Dasher holding his spasming dick over Rudolph's face, disappointed when only a trickle of white goo dribbled forth. "When you gonna blow? You hold it in too long, and your balls gonna burst."

Comet cupped Rudolph's testicles in one hand while stroking the runt's cock with the other, attempting to nudge the everlasting Rudolph over the edge. The added stimulation worked. Groaning and arching his back, a submerged stream of jizz erupted through the water's surface like a geyser. Each surge creating frothy white rafts reminiscent of whipped cream atop steaming hot chocolate.

An ejaculation so violent is usually followed by lassitude and penile deflation, but the blue potion overrode nature's annoying physical limits. It also brought the first faint glow of self luminescence to Rudolph's snout. Dasher noticed the curious effect but misinterpreted its cause as he withdrew his dick from between Rudolph's glowing cheeks.

"Whoa! You need to get out of this hot water, kid. You're burning up.

"Ah, really?" moaned Comet. "My balls are dry but my dick's still rock hard. I can't stop now."

"Me neither, but Santa will skin us and mount our heads on his wall if we kill the runt, but don't you fret, lover. I'm not leaving this comfortable tub. How about you do me next? I'll be your catcher. What d'ya say to that, slugger?"

Unable to refuse an offer so tempting, Dasher practically tossed the flame nosed boy-toy out of the tub. Rudolph was left to stand on the tile floor all alone, dripping wet and naked.

Donner and Blitzen caught sight of the abandoned youth. Indecision tormented them. Should they finish in the girls or just pull out and keep the pressure on the little interloper? Neither wanted the kid to have a break, but they were both in too deep to stop.

A minute of frantic humping brought on the desired end and a respite from the impossible task of satisfying the indomitable does. Sweating and panting, Donner and Blitzen were obliged to take a brief rest. The insatiable girls, whose wide alert eyes scanned the lonely little buck with predatory lust, thus beat them to their prize.

"Dibs on the new guy," they yelled in unison hurrying to take possession of and share the soggy little buck.

"Hey," complained the burly siblings. "What about us?"

"You got each other," giggled Dancer.

"Yeah," laughed Prancer. "Incest is best. Put your brother to the test."

The frosty glare Donner and Blitzen shot the does left no doubt as to their opinion regarding that option. It wasn't that they objected to some intimate brotherly love, but both were too arrogant to yield dominance, even to their genetic equal. Vixen, however, came to their rescue, partly to prevent a fight over the red-snouted fawn, and partly to fulfill her own raging desire.

"Get your pathetic selves over here, boys. I've got room for two more."

Riding cowgirl over Cupid, Vixen slapped her delicious rump with one hand while sucking the index finger of the other. The meaning was clear, and Donner and Blitzen immediately flanked her.

Twins share many traits but can develop unique tastes and desires. Blitzen never tired of a good blow job, eagerly angling for a position in front. Being a dedicated booty addict, Donner sidled up to her tail.

"Wait, Donner," commanded Vixen as his glistening cock probed her tailhole. "Not there. At least not yet," she added, guiding him forward instead to nudge against Cupid's shaft.

"No homo," protested Cupid, unhappy with the view of Blitzen's balls hanging over his snout and another male's dick touching his, but Vixen smothered his complaint with her free hand.

"It's not gay if its a four way. Right, lover?"

Cupid was the rare, mostly heterosexual, reindeer of the bunch, but despite his sour expression, he wasn't about to deny his girl whatever she needed to satisfy her heat. A shrug of his shoulders signaled his tacit agreement.

"Good boy," cooed Vixen, giving Cupid a passionate kiss as a reward before wrapping her lips around Blitzen's staff.

Disbelieving that Vixen could accommodate his girth in her already tightly packed pussy, Donner tried to maneuver back towards the unobstructed orifice. Her firm grip kept him in place, though, and when she bore down, he began making forward progress into a delightfully snug embrace. Distracted by this novel treat, Donner, and his brother, forgot about their interloper victim.

The water soaked Rudolph, meanwhile, was in equally capable hands. Dancer and Prancer shepherded him to the fur drying station, where the ladies delighted in rubbing and tickling him in the warm jets of air until his fur was as fluffy as a bunny's tail. They then dragged him back to their workout zone.

Dancer flopped backwards upon a weight bench, spreading her legs wide. Rudolph eagerly lunged dick-forward, but she stopped him with a palm to his chest, clutched a fist full of fur, and forced his flaming snout back and downward to her hot hole.

"Clean up the mess of your betters first, kiddo."

Cum oozed from her gaping pussy. Urged on by the chemicals controlling his libido, Rudolph harbored no distaste for sloppy seconds and went down on her with gusto. Prancer, standing behind the unsuspecting runt, used her own gooey drippings as lube to slather both ends of a long, double ended dildo. After inserting the curved half in herself, she guided the straight end towards Rudolph's ready rear door and plunged it to the hilt in one smooth motion. No cry of pain or astonishment accompanied the violation. Rudolph only groaned his pleasure and closed his eyes.

The potion enhanced orgy raged on again until all but Dancer, Prancer, and Rudolph reached the ragged end of endurance. The indefatigable trio, like a perpetual motion machine, strove on experimenting with every position imaginable.

Sidelined with their cocks rigid, but too tired to use them, the twin leaders observed Rudolph in stupefied amazement. Frustration over failing to break the interloper grew increasingly intolerable until at last, angry with their role as passive voyeurs, and at the apparent joy the runt was wresting from what should have been a humiliating initiation, the brutes intervened.

"Enough, you two," growled Donner.

"Yeah," emphasized Blitzen as he helped his brother separate the object of their ire from the all too willing does.

Bent on brutal subjugation, Blitzen held on tight to Rudolph's antlers and snout, shoving his massive cock down the runt's throat until the tip of Rudolph's snout prodded his bellybutton. Donner was no more forgiving upon Rudolph's tender backdoor, hilting his victim in one cruel shove. Trapped between two titans, the puny buck hung like a suckling pig impaled upon a spit, and yet gave no sign of distress.

Without the elves' potion, the two bullies would have found it impossible to cum again let alone manage more than one or two post orgasm erections in an evening, but tonight, only their personal limits of stamina stood between them and their intent to break Rudolph. The first of many explosions of cum filled the little buck's ass and mouth until the excess formed two puddles on the floor.

Rudolph's cheeks and snout reddened brighter with each blast, but the twins were too blinded by their own rage to notice. Even when Blitzen's jerking cock ran dry and he released his coughing and wheezing victim, his thoughts and concerns were only directed towards his own endurance.

"Fuck! I think I'm dehydrated," he exclaimed retreating to down several bottles of sport drink. Rudolph gulped air into his lungs, but the satisfied grin never left his snout even as Donner grunted and increased the violence of his thrusts from behind.

"You tasted the lightning, runt, now feel the thunder," he shouted pulling Rudolph's butt snug against his groin. Like his brother, he suffered a series of unsatisfying dry heaves before pulling out to slake his thirst by the fridge.

Rudolph remained bent over with his hands on his knees, and begged, "More. Do it again," enraging the thirsty Blitzen further.

The huge buck advanced upon the tiny teen seemingly intent upon giving him a beating but gripped Rudolph's antlers again instead.

"Quiet, you," he ordered filling the little buck's mouth for another round of deep throat abuse.

Donner gulped his drinks and rushed back to his post. Merciless, the brothers toiled to vanquish their charge, but no matter how vigorous their assault, Rudolph never waned, never tired, or gave any sign that he was anywhere but in heaven. The only manifestation of distress was his blazing red snout that became impossible to ignore considering it now illuminated the whole room.

"Fuck!" shouted Donner, wiping sweat from his brow and pausing to rest. "What the hell's up with his snout?"

"I've got no idea," answered Blitzen nearly breathless, "but I'm kaput. The runt wins."

"Never," panted Donner, equally exhausted. "We have to break him somehow. Dasher, Comet, your turn again!"

There was no answer. The bathers had crawled out of the tub and fallen asleep, spooned on the floor.

"Vixen, Cupid, get over here!" he demanded louder.

Again, no response. Searching about wildly, Donner espied the goddess and her stoned lover snoring upon the couch.

Dancer and Prancer were the only others still conscious. Attached via their dildo, they ground their hips together with slow precision while sharing a prolonged kiss. When Donner implored them to defeat Rudolph, they each opened one eye and shook their heads.

"Not me," declared Prancer. "Gotta keep it gentle now. I'm so wired, if I cum again, my brains are gonna short circuit and explode."

"Ditto," agreed Dancer, her eye opening wider in alarm, "and by the look of Rudolph's snout, he's about to do just that."

Bright as a lighthouse, the glow filled the stable with its eerie radiance. Backing away in terror, Donner warned his brother to pull out. Blitzen attempted to comply, but Rudolph spun around and wrapped his legs around the larger buck's waist refusing to let go. The twin's combined strength was barely adequate to pry him loose, and even after succeeding, they had to suffer the humiliation of running and dodging around the room to escape the freakish red light pleading for more.

Worried that Rudolph was on the verge of suffering a stroke, Donner held Rudolf by his horns and clenched his fist, ready to knock the manic terror out for the evening when the stable doors flew open freezing all three in their tracks. The accompanying blast of arctic air woke the sleepers. An elf with an officious demeanor stepped in, kicked the door shut, and marched to the center of the room.

Hoping to avoid further embarrassment, Donner hefted the still fidgeting Rudolph by one horn and held him helpless with legs kicking and his boner still throbbing. Donner turned the runt to face away from the elf, who paid the awkward maneuver no heed.

Like all of his race, the elf was short, around four and a half feet tall, but lithe of frame, fair of complexion, and possessing long, thick waves of blonde hair. He was dressed in lavender leggings and jacket that clung to his slender frame like a second skin. Bright silver highlights ran through his hair intertwined with the weave of numerous braids. Pointed ears, pierced with numerous shiny studs rose nearly a foot over his head. Though ancient, and possessing a few wrinkles around his intense, sapphire blue eyes, he moved with grace and youthful vigor. Wearing bifocals and intently focused on a large piece of parchment, he was oblivious to the orgy's lingering evidence. Without distraction, he read the document as if delivering a prepared speech.

"Attention all residents of Chritmastown! It is with great sadness and disappointment that his majesty, Santa Claus, regrets to declare that the traditional Christmas Eve delivery of presents is canceled for this year."

He paused briefly, expecting an outcry of dismay, but received instead blank and embarrassed stares from the reindeer. Assuming his audience was too shocked to react, he coughed to clear his throat and continued.

"The reasons for this regrettable decision are many, but the overriding factor is the safety of the delivery crew. A tragic accident would be a far worse Christmas disaster than a lack of presents. Santa assures all who labor so tirelessly for this one night that he is working desperately for a solution to make this at most a one year event. The children deserve..."

Becoming puzzled by the deafening silence, the old elf lowered the paper and peered over the rims of his spectacles.

"Are you reindeer paying attention? This is serious..."

Taking in the scene of naked bodies, dripping cum, the lingering odor of sex, and a host of enduring erections, his eyebrows rose in mild astonishment, but he remained remarkably composed.

"Ahem. I see that you have already anticipated this news and found other diversions for your pent up energy. Santa would have expected tears and wailing of sorrow, but some hearts are hardened..."

"It's not what you think," stammered Blitzen failing in his attempt to push his boner down and out of sight between his thighs. Donner positioned Rudolph in front of his groin but it only served to highlight how fully rigid the fawn still was.

"We were totally ready for the ride," protested Donner. "We were just breaking in the new guy like Santa asked."

"It looks more like you broke him completely to me. Why is his nose brighter than the red stripe of a candy cane?"

"It might have been something I gave him, Dresden" admitted Cupid with a groan.

The ever stoned reindeer's bloodshot eyes flickered open then abruptly closed again against the harsh, ruby glare of Rudolph's nose.

"Goodness," gasped the elf. "Not a love potion?"

"Yep. Though I think there was more in it than that. Got no idea what else. Ask Gretchen. It's one of hers."

Upon hearing the name of his coworker, Dresden grumbled, "I might have known."

After rummaging in a pouch slung across his shoulder, the old elf produced a fist sized crystal ball that he sent to spinning upon his right index finger. It glowed and sparkled as if thousands of twinkling fireflies danced around it.

"Gretchen," he growled at the orb. "Get in the stable right now!"

Within the span of a single heartbeat, a female elf appeared in puff of rainbow colored glitter. Dressed similarly to Dresden, her clothes were emerald green, matching her eyes but contrasting with her uncommon, long, russet hair hanging in disheveled dreadlocks.

"What did you give Cupid?" Dresden demanded. "You know that we aren't supposed to dispense magic willy-nilly..."

The second elf was not the least bit intimidated by her elder's scolding as she surveyed the room with obvious satisfaction.

"It worked then did it? Wow! Just look at that nose. Santa's going to be real happy," she blurted at hyper-sonic speed. "He needs to know about this right now."

Repeating Dresden's trick with a crystal ball of her own, she was in contact with the King of Christmas before her cohort could protest.

"Greetings, sir. Sorry to bother you, sir, but I think we may be back in business after all."

She paused only long enough to give her boss room for a few words. Dresden gaped open mouthed, afraid to interrupt.

"Yes. The potion worked just as I thought it might," Gretchen continued. "Total success. We got ourselves a fighting chance, sir."

Another brief hiatus in her whirlwind oration was filled by the faint echo of jolly laughter from the glittering globe.

"Affirmative. See you in a few. Ciao, sir."

The magical ball dimmed and disappeared back into her pouch. Dresden managed to recover his voice.

"What are you thinking inviting the big guy to this disaster? He's got enough sorrow already..."

"Disaster?" she interrupted, out talking him by three words to one. "Are you referring to the orgy?"

"What else?"

"Mere side effects of a greater purpose," she scoffed. "I have an antidote for the sex part if that is so bothersome."

"It is," moaned the exhausted eight reindeer as one. Rudolph said nothing, instead continuing to pant and stroke himself.

Flitting about as if high on cocaine, Gretchen administered a small pill to all nine reindeer. Though last to respond, even Rudolph's raging hard on was soon a memory, and his disturbingly bright snout dimmed until it was extinguished and as normal any other reindeer's.

All was right and ordinary again including Gretchen's propensity for frenetic speech. Donner and Blitzen became the victims of her latest verbal barrage.

"Did you all fuck Rudolph? Did you? Huh? Huh?"

"Yes," answered Donner.

"Definitely," agreed Blitzen. "No. Wait. Not Vixen and Cupid."

"Did someone who fucked with them fuck him? Spit it out. I need to know who did what to whom."

"Uh...yeah."

"Good enough. Is he stronger? Faster? More agile? More cunning?"

"It seems so," the brothers answered together. "We could hardly pry him off...wait. What were the last questions?"

Gretchen danced about with glee ignoring their confusion.

"Sweet. A super buck is born," she squealed while clapping her hands and prancing in circles. Her wild hair flailed like the legs of a drunken spider trying to stay balanced atop her bobbing head.

Dresden, meanwhile, had turned red in the face having exceeded the limits of his patience with his spastic colleague.

"What in all that's seasoned with peppermint and tied up in curling ribbon are you blathering on about?" he raged.

His angry outburst froze her in mid gambol, where she teetered, immobile for a moment, before composing herself to exhibit a rare equanimity. After tucking her unruly locks behind her long ears, straightening her jacket and skirt, and taking a deep breath while steepling her forefingers against the bridge of her nose, she assumed the posture of a pendant preparing to lecture a gaggle of ignorant and unruly students.

"If you had been listening to me for the last few minutes, you would understand, but here it is again, nice and slow and in plain language for everyone, including reindeer, to understand. It is well known that copious fornication is a useful bridge to transfer magic. That, when combined with an appropriate bio-chemical reaction can invoke a sharing of physical strengths among the participants, with those of lesser prowess gaining the most. Rudolph was the slowest, weakest, directionless, and most easily tired of this group. He is now strong, fast, has greater endurance, and possesses an unerring sense of direction thanks to coupling with the rest of the team."

The bizarre explanation mollified the older elf.

"Oh. I see, but what about his nose? Where did that come from?"

"Latent abilities are also augmented. He already had the nose. He just needed a little help expressing it. Go ahead, Rudolph. You should be able to make it shine at will now. Show us what you got."

Rudolph scrunched his face, squinted his eyes, and tried a number of failed attempts before giving up and just wishing that the darn thing would glow. Immediately, his snout turned red in response, and Rudolph quickly mastered the ability to control its brightness turning it on and off like a lighthouse beacon.

"Yep," said Gretchen. "I think he's ready to be the newest leader of the team."

The twins were aghast.

"What do you mean, leader?" worried Blitzen.

"Yeah," countered an astonished Donner. "This team already has two leaders."

"Lodge your protests with Santa, boys. He'll be here in less than two shakes of a tail, but I recommend you swallow your pride and get used to showing Rudolph some respect. Santa has pretty much made up his mind on this and doesn't change it again easily. You should release Rudolph now, and get used to kissing his ass because you're going to be seeing a lot of it tonight."

Donner did put Rudolph down, more due to his arm being tired and because the runt was no longer actively trying to hump his leg, than out of any kindness or respect. Unhappy with the prospect of yielding their place of honor, the twins began a loud protest. Their teammates joined in the clamor with shouts of, "He's a freak!", "We already have the best!", "That snout'll scare the children!", and other disparaging remarks toward our little hero.

Gretchen simply rolled her eyes and waited a few seconds for the stable door to open once again. This time it was Santa himself, and he was fully dressed for travel in his signature outfit. All the reindeer, including Donner and Blitzen were instantly humbled into silence. Dresden and Gretchen rushed to his side. Each elf reached upward to take one of his huge mitten covered hands in theirs and led him toward Rudolph.

"Here he is as promised, sir," declared Gretchen.

"Not much to look upon," grumbled Santa with critical appraisal. "Are you sure about this, Gretchen, and why are they all naked and not in their feral form ready to go?"

Dresden slapped his forehead in embarrassed alarm. Santa shared children's natural innocence concerning sex, and no one wanted to explain to him what had really happened. The reindeer glanced about for their long discarded clothes, but it was Gretchen, quicker than quicksilver, who spared everyone from awkwardness.

"They were just in the process of switching before harnessing up, right guys? Right? Right?" she blurted in her typical nearly too fast for comprehension manner.

Nine sets of stupefied eyes started back in confusion until Dresden made some quick hand gestures out of Santa's sight and pointed towards the sleigh. Getting the hint, the reindeer morphed into their four legged selves.

"See? All ready to go, sir," said Gretchen with pride.

"You have yet to convince me I should risk this trip tonight. Shouldn't we verify Rudolph's abilities first?"

"Of course, sir," answered Dresden, butting in ahead of his hyper cohort. With momentous success within reach, he was eager to share in the glory. "You are correct as usual. Gretchen, we need darkness."

Gretchen complied by killing the overhead lights until only the flickering embers of the dying hearth fire cast a dim, ruddy glow. Hefting a nearby bucket of water, she cast its contents on the fire, filling the room with smoke and steam and almost total darkness.

"To simulate fog," she offered as explanation as everyone, including Santa, began to cough. "Rudolph, give us some light please."

Emanating from Rudolph, a red glow easily pierced the mist. Santa's beard and mustache parted with a bright smile of delight.

Gretchen and Dresden then placed a harness with large leather pouches on Rudolf. After loading them with heavy weights from the gym set, they fed him a handful of flying oats.

"Show us what you got kiddo," urged Gretchen.

Nervous, the trembling little buck took a few tentative hops that gradually grew in height and duration until his hooves no longer returned to the earth. As soon as he realized he could fly, he was zooming around the stable, soaring through rafters, dodging pillars, and executing loop-the-loops and barrel rolls with remarkable ease for his first flight.

Everywhere he went, his remarkable snout banished the haze as if by magic. For his finish, he dropped from above the highest rafters to land gently at Santa's massive, booted feet. The jolly old elf's (h_e's not really an elf, but let's go with that for literary sake_) belly really did shake like a bowl full of jelly as he chortled and chuckled his pleasure.

"Gretchen, Dresden, I am astounded and impressed. This is exactly what we need," exhorted Santa engulfing the two elves in his mighty arms.

While Santa's elfin helpers beamed with pride, Donner and Blitzen cringed and tucked their small tails down in resignation, convinced they were about to be dismissed. Though Santa does occasionally deliver coal to the naughty, or let his opposite, Krampus (https://www.sofurry.com/view/795111), deal with the truly wicked, he understood that reindeer should not be held to the same ethical standard as humans. Besides, he needed the despotic twins as much as Rudolph to have any hope of completing his annual mission.

"Rudolph," Santa began after releasing his elves to bend over slightly and cup Rudolph's snout in one giant mitten, "You have the makings of a great sleigh team leader, and I intend to break with tradition and place you as the ninth member of the team at the front. I'm doing this because we need your light guiding our way, but you must not let this unprecedented promotion go to your head. Remember that Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid...and yes...even Donner, and Blitzen are the old pros at this, and I want you to listen to them, be respectful, and learn what they can teach. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, sir," answered Rudolph. Tears collected at the corners of his eyes, so overwhelmed with emotion was he at being granted such a high honor. "I promise not to let you down."

"I am certain you won't, son," Santa chuckled merrily while giving Rudolph a brisk rub between his antlers and a pat upon the top of his snout.

Santa then delivered the same gesture of affection to all his faithful reindeer servants.

"I am certain you will all do me proud tonight," he said before exclaiming, "For goodwill and the children!"

Inspired, everyone in all of Christmastown moved with renewed hope and purpose to once again accomplish the impossible.

So, of course, the trip with its new leader was a huge success. Rudolph's shiny snout and his other augmented abilities gave the team the extra impetus they needed to do it all safely in one night.

I won't bore you with the details of that flight, since nothing untoward happened. As one of your earthly authors (J R R Tolkien) once wrote:

"Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway."

My tale did indeed require a "deal of telling" but is now complete. I hope you enjoyed it and learned something worthwhile. In return for this service, I only ask that you spread the truth. Share this story with your friends and loved ones. They'll thank you for it, especially when you include the heartwarming addendum that brave little Rudolph gave many years of excellent service before retiring at the end of the century. By then, you clever apes had invented useful gadgets like radar, GPS, jet engines, and accurate weather prediction to replace Rudolph's unique skills. Santa adopted much of your technology, but he still employs a team of reindeer out of nostalgia.

Though Rudolph hasn't flown in many a year, rumors at Christmastown intimate that he may just make a surprise appearance this winter at the head of the team for a special anniversary flight. So, if this Christmas Eve you hear from your rooftop the sound of jingle bells and the soft clomp of hooves, get out of bed, rush to your window and look to the sky. If you're lucky, you may just catch a glimpse of a red glow and hear Santa and the whole team exclaim:

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

[End of Story]