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Prologue

Krampus. If that name doesn't scare you, then you are either virtuous, immune to feelings of fear about the possible repercussions of your errant behavior, or simply ignorant. You are not virtuous; pure folk don't read stories with the tags associated with this tale. Do not even pretend that the wide range of explicit sexual acts promised within this text didn't help entice you to read it. As for the fearless, you will not be swayed by anything written here, so feel free to enjoy this collection of stories and paw off to the porn. For the rest of you, dear readers, press on and learn about the darker side of this holiday season; learn about the anti-Claus and what he might have in store for you.

Who is Krampus? He is the shadowy and sinister companion to St. Nicholas. Old St Nick has become Santa Claus by virtue of the commercialization of the Christmas celebration, while our dark side hero has been quietly forgotten in our headlong rush to sell this as a season of joy and love. St Nick arrives in the night hours before the morning of St Nicholas Day, the sixth of December, to leave treats in the shoes and stockings of good little children. The footwear of bad children, of course, is hauntingly empty that morning, but that is not the end of their suffering. In older, less enlightened times, it was not enough to threaten naughty children with a lack of gifts and presents; punishment was believed necessary. Therefore, a fur covered, goat horned, hooved man with a long lolling tongue was invented to travel alongside St Nicholas to mete out retribution to those who failed to win the affections of the good saint.

Beatings with birch switches and rusty old chains are the traditional punishments that the anti-Claus delivers to the merely naughty. The truly evil suffer a much more horrendous fate. For those children, Krampus carries a basket on his back to take them away for drowning, eating or a trip to the flames of Hell. The authors believe there is a middle ground of retribution that goes beyond corporal punishment but stops short of death and eternal damnation. Certainly, a cleverly malevolent being like Krampus can find ways to humiliate or exploit people's sexual fears and dislikes. What better, or worse depending on which end of the punishment that you are on, form of punishment could there be than unpleasant sex? Think, dear reader, about your own profile hate list. It is published for all to see. Do you really think that Krampus hasn't read it yet? Would you want experiencing your hate list to be your fate?

For your Christmas holiday season reading enjoyment, we present the stories of four individuals who expressed a range of naughty behaviors during the past year from the mundane to the truly wicked, thus drawing Krampus' attention on the eve of St Nicholas Day. The events of this story last twenty-four hours beginning at just past midnight when the fifth of December is born and end just before the midnight barrier to St Nicholas Day is breached.

These events take place in and near a typical high school with the oxymoronic name of Lakeland High. Architecturally, there is nothing special about it; it is an ordinary two-story brick building in the middle of a small city. The inhabitants, both furry and fleshy, are also representative of the general population, and hence make a perfect pool from which to draw examples of the range of naughty behavior that elicits Krampus' special attentions.

The first of these four wayward souls is a Pokémon; specifically a Scrafty. He is a bipedal, lizard-like scale with oval, wide set eyes and a wide mouth with bared teeth. The red crest on his head is similar in appearance to a Mohawk haircut. Baggy yellow skin hangs off his shoulders and around his waist like the ridiculous fashion of some young males whose pants hang low on their hips. In appearance, he is the quintessential foul-mouthed little punk deserving of a good beating to set him back on the straight and narrow. His offense is the most minor of the four - a disrespect for authority that goes beyond mere disdain to cursing and hostility towards everyone around him.

The second offender is a bully and a vandal named Dennis Atskog, who picks on his fellow students, humiliates other kids and enjoys defacing public and private property with non-artistic graffiti. Now we are fully aware that some graffiti can be considered art. We have seen and marveled at such graphic expression ourselves. However, this loser's scribbling typically involves crude representations of male and female genitalia and common four letter words. In our opinion, he deserves what he gets for his moronic use of the slogan "Fuck you" more than his bullying. He is an elk, who is large for his age as most bullies are, and tending towards stoutness. His antlers are also oversized, and he uses them to intimidate others. Otherwise, he is quite ordinary looking except for his red eyes, which earned him the nickname "Fireball."

Our third victim of Krampus' wrath is a pale, skinny fleshy female named Flora Dunwoody with short blond hair, who is the school nurse. Though she keeps her views to herself when she is at the school, she is a speciesist who sees all furs, scales, avians, and anyone non-fleshy as inferior. Her bigotry allows her to justify dealing methamphetamines from her own private lab to non-fleshies. Her vile poison is peddled through a small network of runners to protect her anonymity and shield her from the police. The money she makes helps to fuel her own addiction to cocaine, ecstasy and wild drug and sex fueled raves.

The final villain to receive his comeuppance at the hand of the vengeful Christmas spirit is the school's gym teacher. He is a typically fit and well-toned, but mediocre, athlete that had no chance at professional sports so slid into teaching instead as a backup career. This tall, handsome wolf with gray and white fur has a penchant for extorting sex from his students in exchange for grades. His favorite tactic is to wear down a victim's self-esteem gradually through relentless criticism of his or her lack of athletic skills while simultaneously intimidating them with low grades. He then finds an excuse to keep the poor child after school for detention. Scaring them witless with the threat of a failing grade, he offers them his way out, which involves whatever sexual favors he desires at the time. Many a boy cub has left his office with a sore tailhole, and an equal quantity of girl cubs have departed with a belly full of his cum. Not satisfied with molesting children, he has managed to work his psychological mischief on a few parents and a teacher or two. A trail of shattered egos and traumatized victims is this alleged caretaker of our youth's tragic legacy.

You are now cordially invited to discover what can happen to the naughty at Christmas time. Before you proceed, be warned that these stories contain graphic descriptions of forced sex acts. Did that just make you more excited to read on? If so, then beware! As you read these accounts of yuletide retribution, please reflect upon your own behavior throughout the year and ask yourself this question: "Am I on Krampus' list?"

Baxter, the Insolent, Foul-Mouthed Punk

Written by Tanuskidoodle

*The hoodlum Pokémon opens his front door after hearing a mysterious knock at midnight of December's fifth day. "What tha fuck do ya want?" His voice almost echoes in the neighborhood he is known to terrorize with his foul language and blasting, pulsating music, with lyrics to match his own colorful words. The teenaged Scrafty pulls down the hood of his yellow, hood-like skin and looks out into the empty night. Upon looking down, he discovers a present, carefully wrapped in snowman patterned wrapping paper, a lustrous, red bow around all four sides of the box, and a white tag with bold, black letters spelling DO NOT OPEN UNTIL X-MAS. *

*Baxter Schlagen's face displays a crooked smile as he declares, "Well, looks like someone left little old me a present." He picks up the parcel and reads the tag. In response, the ne'er-do-well adolescent rips it off and throws it into the bushes. "Fuck that noise," he declares in a loud, deplorable tone. The ne'er-do-well runs up to his room, with his saggy leg skin trailing behind. He locks his door, thinking, "My parents aren't home, but the last thing I need is for their nosey asses to come barging in." With the utmost callousness for both the present and his parents, the teen tears away the bow, shreds the wrapping paper, and tosses the lid of the box across his room. The disrespectful, foul-mouthed punk looks into the box with expectant eyes. "The Fuck!? Empty?" In an overreaction of rage, the scale tosses the box out of the window, only to discover that it is in its original position after he turns back around. When he tries to throw the parcel a second time, an invisible force pulls him into the present. *

*The Scrafty falls fast into a dark swirling vortex and meets the cold, hard ground face first. He manages to sit up to look at his surroundings. He sees nothing but a red sky with black clouds slowly drifting by. A growl from behind causes him to quickly flinch and turn in automatic reaction. Sitting before Baxter on a throne of briar thorns, is Krampus, whose soul-piercing eyes cause the boy to freeze in place. *

*In a shaky voice, filled with fear and bravado, the punkish teen tries to sound unafraid of the old demon in front of him. "Who the hell are ya and what tha fuck have ya done to mah room?" Seeing the beast's disaffected, stoic, dominant gaze unchanging, the hoodlum Pokémon continues his vain attempt at a brave front. "If ya don't send meh back right Fucking now before I get angry, I'm gonna really show ya how fast shit can hit tha fan." The adolescent manages to produce his crooked smile, but, before the boy can blink, Krampus takes the foul-mouthed scale by the arm, roughly pulls him over his muscular knee, and sends a quick, strong slap to the disrespectful boy's behind. To the boy's shock, he can even feel the sting through his thick, protective skin and screams from the ensuing pain. *

Spanking had always been a hated punishment of Baxter's. In fact, his parent's and the schools' use of corporal punishment is the main reason he decided to act the way he has. He is not really a bad kid; he has just been putting up a brave front in order to avoid any attempt at physical punishment. In and of itself, that is not a crime in Krampus' eyes. However, the teen's readiness and crassness in dis regarding any and all authority is more than worthy of the caprine punisher's attention. Tonight, Baxter is learning that his posturing was all in vain.

*Passing his judgment on the lad, Krampus delivers another, sound smack on his ass, eliciting another shriek from the offending teen. "I-I-I'm not gonna give in, F-Fu-Fucker!" The punk's protesting words are met only with harder blows to his backside. He bellows out another wail as the pain becomes more searing with every hit. It isn't long before Baxter loudly declares, "I Give! I GIVE!" as sweat begins to glisten on his orange skin. *

Krampus ceases his spanking of his victim's ass and momentarily allows the boy to pant uninterrupted. Then, the stronger, bigger male pulls away the smaller lad's protective skin and delivers rapid slaps on the Pokémon's bare gluteal cheeks. The Scrafty resumes screaming and begins to struggle. This only serves to further anger the ancient executioner of punishment, who waves his hand in the air and summons a hickory switch from thin air. The instrument of corporal penance is brought down hard upon the scale, and Baxter shouts again in pain from the new level of pain on his increasingly tender ass. Wasting no time, the demon continues using the thin, flexible rod in quick succession. With every pop on his butt, the thuggish adolescent trembles and sweats as his body is heated from the feeling of helplessness, embarrassment, and Krampus' insulating fur.

*The boy's orange bottom begins to turn red as he becomes accustomed to the pain. Not ready to give the boy a break, the corporal executioner raises his stick high into the air and wills it to change form. The switch instantly becomes a black, leather strap, which the demonic capra forcefully descends upon the teen's unguarded derriere. The resulting sounds of physical anguish from Baxter almost echo in the endless expanse of Krampus' world. Another harder crack of the strap causes the boy to stop struggling and begin to weep tears of hopelessness from his eyes. *

To push the point home, Krampus causes his punitive instrument to transform again, this time into a wooden paddle with holes drilled through it. With one of his toned, strong hooves on the Scrafty's back, the punisher brings down the paddle on the unresisting young man's behind. The paddle breaks upon contact with the ne'er-do-well lad's bare, reddened ass, and tiny droplets of blood begin to well up on the spanking bruised mounds of young flesh. The boy's entire body goes limp as he openly cries with his mouth wide open and tears streaming unrestrained from his eyes.

In that very moment Baxter remembers a story that his grandma told him when he was still a young, impressionable Scraggy. It was a story about a demon that she met when she was a little girl in the old country. He was a burly, malevolent executioner who was the counter-part to Saint Nicholas himself that roamed the world punishing naughty children. She warned him to always be a good little child and never bid ill will to others. He had always thought her story to be a fiction, manufactured by the old to keep the young in line. Now, he has realized the brutal truth behind her story.

Discarding the paddle, Krampus gently caresses the boy's tomato red, slightly bleeding buttocks, causing the teen to whimper at the stinging sensation resulting from the gentle touch on his ultrasensitized ass. The capra then effortlessly picks up the boy, who puts up no resistance, and sits the adolescent on his knee facing him. The Pokémon has his hands covering his crotch and is avoiding eye contact with the brawny beast by looking down at Krampus' chest as he continues crying. Grabbing the weeping Scrafty by his crest, the ancient administrator of punishments raises the lad's head so that their gazes meet. Upon seeing Krampus' far more dominant eyes, the punk moves his claws to his sides, revealing his fully erect, rigid, uncircumcised, orange hemipenis. His arousal exposed to the lolled tongued demon, the boy feels further humiliated.

The demoralized, broken Baxter's tear laden face continues looking into the goat's unmoving and stoic visage. He begins to think about his bad deeds: all the peace he has interrupted with his foul worded music, all the teachers he has cussed at, and all the times he disrespected his loving parent's authority. As if reading the boy's mind, Krampus narrows his gaze, piercing the boy's very heart, soul, and psyche. The scared teen's voice jumps up two octaves from fear as he declares in a pleading spirit, "I-I understand...Please let meh go...I'll be a good boy! I promise!" The boy begins to hyper-ventilate from the never before experienced level of fear and embarrassment.

Krampus is satisfied that Baxter has learned his lesson. The man-beast does tend to have a softer side for his more mislead and unintentionally bad victims. He is even known to show some amount of affection, albeit small, to those who are not truly bad but sincerely absorb their lessons. The boy has learned to respect authority and is deserving of some comfort.

*The dominating demon spins the boy around and pulls the scalie teen's back into his chest and stomach. Before wrapping his strong hooves around the hoodlum's chest, he places both of the crying lad's claws at his twin cocks. The hormonally driven youth wastes no time and begins fiercely pumping his hemipenis with both hands working his straining erections in unison. Enjoying the stinging sensation, he grinds his ass into Krampus' leg and knee and screams in a mix of pleasure and pain that is completely foreign to his young mind. The boy climaxes with a moan of newfound ecstasy and trembles as he fires his adolescent seed all over the foot of the goat's briar throne. The capra authoritarian, who has remained motionless and emotionless through the boy's short moment of sexual bliss, waves a hoof in front of the boy's face, and the teen quickly drifts to sleep. *

Baxter wakes up tied to a flagpole outside a nearby apartment complex. He begins to struggle, but the festive, green ribbons have him bound too tightly.

As the reader can plainly see, our first offender is nothing more than a mislead soul who has been in dire need of straightening out; he is no one worth too much of our corporal executioner's efforts. Krampus always seeks out the lesser offenders first, and they do often learn their lessons fairly quickly. Now, the young Scrafty will have to play the role of messenger to the caprine moral adjudicator's next victim.

Dennis Atskog, the Bully/Vandal

Written by SilverrFox

Dennis laughs aloud at the cleverness of his latest wall art creation - a giant dick and balls with the slogan "Fuck You", all in black spray paint. It is the crudest representation of male genitalia possible with no artistic merit of any kind, but he is absurdly proud of it. What a moron.

*Tossing the can of spray paint aside, he shuffle steps down the city alley while headbanging to the heavy metal beat of his favorite band, SnikSkinS. As he passes the gate to a small courtyard in the middle of an apartment building, he catches a glimpse of something wrapped in green cloth. He stops and peers through the iron bars of the gate, and discovers that it is a person wrapped up like a present and struggling to get free. The individual is so thoroughly covered, it is hard to tell its sex let alone its species. *

Seeing another person helpless and humiliated amuses Dennis by giving him a sense of superiority. The obnoxious prick isn't capable of doing anything unique or worthy of praise, so he gets his ego boost from dragging others down to his level.

*Not satisfied with taunting this hapless victim from afar, he turns the handle on the gate and is surprised that it opens. Places like this are usually locked up tight to keep people just like Dennis out. Briefly, the idea of retrieving the can of spray paint enters his small brain. He would love to mark this normally off limits courtyard as his own. The thought is lost as his primitive lust to abuse another overrides everything else his small brain can process except, unfortunately, for the autonomous systems that keep him alive. *

*Enough of his inadequate mental capacity is working to make him look around to see who else might be about. Someone had to tie this person up, right? No one else is in the courtyard, so he strolls in and stands over the struggling prisoner of an artful wrapping job. He can see that it is a Scrafty; his red Mohawk-like crest makes this obvious. Now that Dennis is closer, what he thought was green cloth is actually a broad, shiny Christmas ribbon. *

Dennis squats down and leers into the struggling Scrafty's eyes. "What's the matter, little lizard? Having trouble wrapping presents?" Now that he is closer, he recognizes the Pokémon as a fellow student from school. He is not one of his usual victims. The Pokémon is too confident and obnoxious to be easily bullied. "Baxter?"

He is answered by a garbled mumbling. The ribbon that binds the Scrafty crosses tightly over Baxter's mouth several times, preventing him from speaking clearly. Because Dennis enjoys listening to his victim's groveling as he torments them, the elk is frustrated by the mouth muffling covering. The bully tries to pull the ribbon down from the scale's mouth, but can't make it budge no matter how hard he tries. Angry, he fishes his switchblade out of his pants pocket, extends the blade with a flourish and slides it under the ribbon. The sharp edge of blade rubs back and forth against the underside of ribbon but is like a butter knife trying to cut granite. Flummoxed by the impenetrability of the wrappings, he tests the blade on the cuff of his pants and finds it slices through the denim with ease.

"What the fuck is this shit?" He scratches around the base of his antlers. "Well, it's all held together with just this bow on top. If I untie that, I should be able to loosen this up enough to pull it down over your mouth. Man, you must have really pissed someone off to tie you up like this. Ha! Ha!"

The elk bully gives a yank on the loose end of the bow at the top of the Scrafty's head. Astonishingly, that simple pull of the ribbon causes the knot to instantly untie itself, but more than that, the ribbon begins to unwind from around the Pokémon's body as if an invisible set of giant paws are at work.

"Da fuck! How is this happening?"

As Dennis ponders the seemingly magical unwinding, the Scrafty's mouth is uncovered. "Ya are so fucked, dude."

Dennis is momentarily stumped by that statement. Why would he be fucked? This little prick couldn't hurt him. He is just a runt. "What are you talking about, punk? You are the one who got fucked over and tied up."

"True, but now it's ya turn, doofus."

"My turn? You try anything on me and I will pound you into the ground, you little prick."

The ribbons continued to unwind, freeing the Scrafty's hands. "Don't worry about meh. Worry about him." Baxter points back towards the entrance gate to the courtyard.

Krampus is standing just inside the open gate. Though no bigger than Dennis, he is an intimidating figure, and an aura of fear and dark force emanates from him like the scent of a skunk. Staggering backwards from the power of that negative energy, Dennis trips over the Scrafty and falls to the ground on his ass. The green ribbon that had bound the Pokémon no longer restrains Baxter and hangs in the air like the Sword of Damocles over Dennis.

"Who...who the fuck are you?" The bully's voice is edged with fear.

Baxter stands up, rubbing his wrists to restore the circulation from the tight binding of the ribbon. "He doesn't talk, but his name is Krampus. He's like the anti-Santa."

Dennis' tiny brain struggles with the new concepts. "Krampus? Anti...what?"

*"He is going to punish ya for all the bad shit ya did this year, idiot. Ya'll see. He already did meh, and it was pretty bad. A total asshole like ya will git a lot worse...I hope. I'd love ta stay and watch, but I didn't get any sleep last night, and I'm totally beat." The Pokémon walks towards Krampus and the gate. The demon does not move, and there is no way around him. *

Baxter makes polite eye contact with the sinister being and bows slightly at the waist. "May I pass, sir?"

*A smile crosses the old spirit's malevolent face, a smile that is as out of place there as a child's crayon drawing would be in the Louvre. Nevertheless, he steps aside, and lets the respectful boy pass. *

*Dennis wonders if he can use the same trick to escape, but he never gets a chance. When the old devil's eyes focus on him again, all mirth, real or feigned is gone. There is only a dark malevolence to replace it. Scared, Dennis jumps to his hooves and tries to run to one of the apartment complex doors. He doesn't get more than two steps before the hovering green ribbon curls back and snakes forward like a whip to lash around his ankles. Dennis falls forward over a concrete bench with his fore hooves on one side and his knees on the ground on the other. The force of his pudgy stomach hitting the bench knocks the wind from his lungs, stunning him. *

He is helpless as the ribbon wraps round his body pulling his back legs apart and securely fastening his torso to the bench. When he is completely immobilized, Krampus steps forward and stands behind the restrained bully.

Dennis strains to turn his head to see what the devil is doing. "Don't even think of touching me, fucker. I'll bust your balls if you do."

Ignoring the bully, Krampus removes the boy's switchblade from his pocket. The quick snick sound of the blade makes Dennis cringe and begin to shake. "What the fuck are you doing, man?" There is real terror in his voice.

With deft strokes, St Nick's dark companion cuts away the back side of the elk's jeans, leaving his buttocks, his short elk tail and his asshole exposed. Raising one muscular arm in the air, a birch switch appears in his hoof. The stroke that delivers the blow to the bully's bare ass is strong and well-honed over centuries of practice.

*Dennis is too shocked by the stinging force of that strike upon his tender butt cheeks to scream. He is further distracted by a carefully wrapped present with snowman wrapping paper on the ground in front of him with a white tag imploring him to not open it until Christmas. As if in a trance, his mischievous hooves tear it open anyway. *

*A swirling and roiling vertiginous sensation overwhelms him as though he were tumbling uncontrolled through space. When the falling sensation stops, he finds to his dismay that he is still pinned to the concrete bench, but now he is in a dark land of bare rock and steaming fumaroles that outgas a pungent stench of hydrogen sulfide. A leaden sky tinged with red at the horizon is partially obscured by brooding clouds that threaten heavy weather. Krampus is no longer behind him, but now sits in a huge stone throne on a rock pedestal in front of him. *

"Let me go, you asshole. You have no right to do this to me." It is a pitiful attempt at being brave and bullying; his voice sounds like that of whining baby in this empty and unforgiving land.

*Krampus remains silent. *

"I said let me go." Dennis is nearly crying now. "I want to go home."

*The mute spirit waves his arm that still clutches the birch switch. A score of teens materialize around the elk bully. Most are male, but a few are female. They are a mix of fleshy and non-fleshies. Dennis recognizes the ones he can see as losers he has intimidated and humiliated at school. The looks on their faces are not fearful as they should be. Instead, they are vengeful and determined. *

This is his worst nightmare - all of his victims ganging up against him at once. Facing the reality is so terrifying that he loses bladder control and wets his pants, urinating so much it soaks through and drips down forming an obvious puddle beneath him. Laughter follows, and he knows everyone has seen what he did.

*A familiar voice speak from behind him. He doesn't have to turn to know that it is Rachael, the gangly gazelle with the long, red pony tail who sits in front of him in English class. "Did you get it?" *

*"Sure did. I'm uploading it to YouTube right now." Dennis recognizes that voice as Simon, the little nerd fleshie, who lives in the computer lab. *

Two more furs, a feline calico and a dalmation with glasses, with lenses so thick they are like magnifying glasses, approach him with a bottle of water and a prescription bottle. He can't remember their names. They are in the class below his.

The cat grabs his snout and clamps her claws over his nostrils so he can't breathe, while the dog pours out several blue pills into his paw. "Tip his head back and squirt his mouth full of water."

Dennis tries to grab at them, but the green ribbon wraps around his wrists and holds them tight to the legs of the bench. The cat yanks his head back by the hair on his head so his snout is pointing at the tumultuous sky directly overhead. When Dennis opens his mouth for a much needed breath, the little dog shoves a ring gag in his mouth as the calico holds tight his pinched nostrils. There must have been a hole in the gag, because the pup is able to squirt water thought it filling his mouth. He has no choice but to swallow it along with several of the blue pills in order to be able to breathe again. The girl removes the gag after the mystery pills are in his stomach.

Simon moves closer with his video camera. "Cut away the rest of his pants, Rachel. We want to get his reaction recorded for the world to see."

*"You think your life has been hell so far, just touch me and I'll get you good!" Instead of terrifying the gazelle wimp, the elk's threat makes her laugh. *

"Your days of bullying people are over, Dennis. When Krampus is done with you, you are going to be a reformed elk." The snick of his switchblade sounds again and all but the legs of his jeans are removed, exposing his genitals now as well as his rear end.

*Worse than just having himself filmed in this naked state, he feels his cock begin to grow erect. He can't understand why. He is scared and not even remotely horny. *

The dalmation points to the elk's expanding boner. "The Viagra is kicking in."

"Still getting it all on video. Now everyone will know how much he is going to enjoy what will happening next."

Dennis can't see what is occurring behind him, but the cubs in front of him drop their pants. He is faced with a startling array of erections on the boys; the girls are putting on strap on dildos. A skunk named Greg, who draws pictures and writes poetry, pulls out a can of purple spray paint and starts shaking it. Dennis can hear the familiar clatter of the steel ball rattling around inside the can.

"Cut away his shirt please, Rachel. I am in the mood to create some artistic genius."

*So much happens so fast, Dennis is not sure where to focus his limited attention. As his shirt is sliced away from his torso, someone shoves several fingers covered in lube up his anus. He yelps in surprise. *

Greg jumps up on the bench and stands astride the bully, still shaking the can. "It must be something that is truly inspired. I know! A giant cock and balls." The skunk laughs maniacally as he sprays the crude image of a penis and testicles on the elk's back, ironically similar in style to the bully's own obnoxious graffiti.

*As the cold, wet, purple paint soaks into his golden brown fur, he is shocked by another more violent sensation - the sudden penetration of a cock into his tailhole. "Hey? Is my face going to show up on this video?" asks the voice at the other end of the dick is in his ass. *

"No, man. I got special software that blurs out everybody's face except his. The whole world gets to see him taking a whole lot of cocks up his butt and maintaining a boner through it all." Simon giggles like a little girl. That laugh is one of the many reasons Dennis chose to pick on him. Now he is beginning to regret his actions towards the little computer nerd and the others.

*Three boys move directly in front of his snout, each one stroking his own erection vigorously. The calico is still holding on tight to his head to make sure he is looking directly at them. "Do you know what bukkake is, Mr. Bully?" Dennis shakes his head as best he can in the cat's vise-like grip. His vocabulary is quite limited. The calico smiles wickedly at his ignorance. *

"It is a feudal Japanese custom to humiliate adulteresses. That last word means women who fool around on their husbands in case you are too stupid to know that either."

Dennis is ashamed that he didn't know that word and knows he is being mocked. His tormentors are all smarter than he is. It is another reason he bullied them relentlessly. Deep inside, he knows they are actually superior to him.

"The men of the village would take the errant woman and ejaculate all over her face to humiliate her publicly. Since you delight in humiliating others, we think that this is an appropriate revenge for what you have done to us."

This all too much for him to comprehend. The fox drilling his ass is panting and grunting as if he is about to cum, and the dragon, eagle and otter in front of him are doing the same.

His voice is pleading now. "No. Don't. I promise that I won't bother you anymore. I'll leave you all alone. I swear."

The calico gazes into his eyes as if judging his sincerity and finding him lacking. For an instant, her eyes are dark and deep like the bottom of the ocean. Her expression grows stern, and she shakes her head. "Krampus doesn't believe you. He says the punishment must be administered for you to learn your lesson and become truly repentant." Her claws clench over his nostrils again forcing him to open his mouth to breath. Her arm wraps around his neck to lock his head in place.

*"Keep him steady, Laila. I'm shooting for his mouth," says the eagle as he and the other two boys step closer with their swollen dicks just inches from his face. Dennis struggles to turn his head to avoid what he knows is about to happen, but the little girl is surprisingly strong and holds his head facing up and forward. He clamps his mouth shut, but he knows that he can't hold it shut for long. He fervently hopes they cum before he needs more oxygen. His hopes are futile. *

*The fox behind him, feeling the onset of his orgasm, stands on Dennis' calves and digs his claws into his thighs in order to climb up on his rear and thrust in as deeply as he can. His canid knot strains the elk's anus, until with a popping sound the swollen base of his cock slides in past his sphincter causing the bully to bugle in pain. *

Synchronized perfectly according to Krampus' vindictive will, the three masturbating boys cum simultaneously with the opening of the elk's mouth. Creamy white seed shoots from all of their cocks in long, ropy strands that enter his open maw, drip from his snout and cover his eyes. The dragon is particularly prolific continuing to squirt in Dennis' face long after the otter and eagle are done. The salty taste coats his mouth and runs slowly down his throat. He is powerless to stop it

*As his face is being covered by sticky goo, the fox working his rear end groans. The bully feels the warmth of the fox's cum filing his insides. Tears run from his dark brown eyes. "OK you had your fun. Now let me go. I learned my lesson." *

Again, Laila probes his eyes with her otherworldly gaze that by some magic Dennis knows truly belongs to Krampus. "You are closer to true repentance, but have not served enough penance. Everyone here will have a turn with you. Only then, may you plead for mercy at Krampus' hooves and beg for forgiveness.

*To his horror and shame, several more boys take their turn at his tailhole and ejaculating on his face until a large puddle of jizz has formed on the ground beneath his muzzle and long sticky tendrils of semen hang down from his snout to enlarge the puddle. A similar fate befalls his rear end. His thighs are saturated with sticky cum that oozes from his overstretched anus. So many have him that he loses count and ceases to struggle. *

During it all, the skunk on his back continues to desecrate Dennis' fur with the most moronic graffiti he can imagine. "This needs words, I think. Something really clever, like...I don't know...Oh, yeah! How about 'Fuck you'?" With a gusto born of his newfound inspiration, the black and white fur applies more purple paint across the bully's broad back.

Laila wipes a coating of spooge from Dennis' right eye so he can open it and look at her. "That's the last of the boys, Mr. Bully. It's the girl's turn now."

"Girl's turn?" he asks in a stupor born of sexual exhaustion. Somewhere during the last hour's ordeal, the stimulation in his ass made him cum himself several times. Now there was a nearly constant trickle of seed leaking from the end of his cock, which refused to soften from its Viagra induced hardening.

His numb question is answered by a double-ended dildo being shoved in his mouth and another in his ass simultaneously by female furs using the other end to stimulate themselves. Being heterosexual, he is further stimulated by seeing the naked girls shuddering as they climax with their dildos in his mouth. He can feel the tremors transmitted down the length of the dildo into his throat and ass. He comes again several more times, the puddle in front of his knees growing steadily.

Dennis is nearly unconscious when the calico holding onto his slimed head announces there is only one left. Rachael gasps at the sight of something the bully cannot see. "What is that, Stacey?"

A tall female horse with appaloosa markings has an enormous horse dildo strapped on tight. "This? I call it the Clydesdale." She strokes its eighteen inch, rubbery length with her fore hoof and laughs. "I think he may just be stretched out enough from all of that work for this to fit. There is only one way to find out."

Instantly awake as the thick, imitation draft horse pecker forces its way into his stretched, but still young and tight rectum, Dennis howls from the pain. He is certain the thing is going to tear him apart, and he tries to fight and shit it back out, but he is so weekend that he lacks the muscular control to stop its inexorable advance into his guts. Completely drained of energy, he goes limp, and the dong disappears inch by inch up his anus until Stacey's pubis is pressed up against his tail.

With long, slow strokes, she moves in and out, moaning to the sensation of a similarly sized rubber member grinding into her vagina. She plows his boy pussy until she has cummed several times herself and sticky juices from her own orgasms drip down to join the puddle between Dennis' legs.

It takes a while for the former elk bully to realize he is no longer being violated in the front or the rear. Even the skunk is no longer coating his back and sides with purple paint. Laila is kneeling in front of him wiping the jizz off his face with a towel. It is a simple gesture, but it is the first act of kindness he has experienced since he had been transported to this place. The gesture makes him cry more so than the embarrassing sexual assaults. He sees now the pain of what he has been doing to others and how they must have felt because of him.

Realizing he is free of the green ribbon that no longer binds him to the bench, he thanks Laila, stands and runs to throw himself at Krampus' shiny black hooves. "Please forgive me, Krampus. I know now that I was wrong to bully other people and damage property. I promise with all my heart that I will never do either again. I swear...I swear." He is weeping openly as a soft paw comes to rest on his shoulder. It is Laila.

"Krampus says your punishment is over, but he has one last use for you. It is not a punishment. Just be still and wait to be released. Then you will be free to go."

Dennis wipes his tears from his eyes and snout, but does not understand. Suddenly the green ribbon is back binding him tightly, and he is falling away from Krampus' world back to his own.

The vindictive, furry spirit is content that he has adequately punished and possibly reformed another soul. Things do not always end so well. The next two errant mortals have committed transgressions that are far more heinous. They have worked their evil well into adulthood when reform becomes more difficult. He will have to increase the severity of the punishments they receive to be more violent to match their crimes.

As always, the appropriate methods come to him with little effort, making him smile his sadistic grin. The simulacrums of Dennis' victims stand mutely as statues awaiting his further bidding. There is no more need of these artificial creations. He waves his birch switch, and they dissolve back into the lumps of clay from which they had been formed.

---

That was a bit more humiliating, and the sexual violation was internal as well as external. Does the reader know fear yet? Are your misdeeds lesser or greater than what has been examined so far? Read on to learn how the truly corrupt and perverse are punished, if you dare.

Flora Dunwoody, the Speciesist and Dope Peddler

Written by SilverrFox

Flora shoos the male anthro otter teen out of her office as soon as she is finished wrapping his sprained wrist. Her blond hair is slipping out of the bun where she tried unsuccessfully to restrain it. She brushes it up towards the back of her head with a habitual and long practiced movement only to have it creep back alongside the smooth, pale skin of her face. It won't be long before the errant follicles return to their favorite position in front of her eyes again. She had never been able to control her unruly hair, and lately she has been putting less and less care into her overall appearance. Flora is not ugly, but the twenty-five year old school nurse is a bit on the skinny side and lacks a lot of the curvature most women have. Except for her breasts, which are average size, she has an almost boyish physique. It makes her self conscious, and keeps her from dating much.

*Immediately after touching her face, she looks at her hands in disgust. A few squeezes from the hand sanitizer bottle makes her feel cleaner as she rubs he cooling substance on her hands. It is bad enough that her job requires that she touch these disgusting animals, she doesn't want them hanging around her infirmary smelling up the place. Too many of them like that otter try to use a trip to the infirmary as an excuse to stay out of classes for hours. Not in her office. She can't stand the furry, scaly and feathery freaks. They are clearly lesser people than fleshies like herself, who she has been taught by her parents were the true humans. All during her youth, she had heard how the others were too much like their animal counterparts to be truly human. Flora believes in the theory that they are all degenerate evolutionary throwbacks. *

Oh how she wants to transfer to an all fleshy school so she wouldn't have to deal with otters, wolves, horses and the rest of them anymore, but that isn't going to happen. Schools of that ilk cater to the elite and have high standards not only for whom they admit, but also for whom they employ. With her record of poor performance reviews and personnel problems, an all fleshy school wouldn't even reply to her application. Why would they bother with an applicant with her record of frequent absences, abuse of sick leave and generally poor performance? Recently, she had failed to order the flu vaccines in time for the free flu shot drive, forcing the event to be rescheduled. That screw up earned her a reprimand and a performance improvement plan. She is also behind on a mountain of data entry she needs to complete for everyone she has treated in the last month. The stack of patient forms sitting there on the table by her laptop is a physical reminder of that boring task. If her supervisor finds that task incomplete, she will be in worse trouble.

Reluctantly, she sits down, grabs a form and begins entering the information some student had bothered to scribble in the boxes. It was incomplete and much of it unreadable, but she didn't care. Accuracy is irrelevant since no one will ever read them. Nobody but her disgusting anthro wolf bitch boss cares. It is a pointless task designed to sap her will and make her life hell, but she has to do it. Flora knows that her boss suspects something is wrong with her because she misses so much work claiming to be sick. Fortunately, the bitch's suspicions haven't yet led to a deductive leap to Flora's drug abuse problem. If the wolfess demands a urine test, she is screwed. That would probably get her fired her on the spot. If they find out about her meth lab and drug peddling business, she will go to jail and be banned from nursing forever.

Thinking of the drugs she sells makes her smile for the first time today. At least she has that one bit of revenge against the sub-humans she loathes so intensely. She only sells to their kind. It delighted her to watch them destroy themselves with the addictive and devastatingly debilitating cocktails she made. If only Flora could get her boss hooked on the stuff somehow, she would be free of her tyranny. These wild imaginings generate visions in her mind that make her laugh aloud, the sound of which ironically startles her out of her reverie and back to the miserable reality that is her life.

Depression and melancholy always follow when she thinks about the ignominy of working beneath a furry. Her downward spiral of despair never stops there, though. Worse ways to be beneath one of their kind exist, and she has experienced that before, too. The painful memories open the door to temptation and escape through alcohol, drugs or both if necessary. The familiar craving begins spreading through her now like a plague, making her skin crawl and leaving her with cold sweats. She doesn't dare imbibe or snort while at work. The risk of being caught and subsequently fired is too great. That bitch of a principal is watching her too closely.

*In an attempt to distract herself from the haunting memories and resultant yearnings, she returns to her task of entering data into the computer. The chore fails utterly at stopping her mind from wandering to the depredations she has suffered at the paws of a particular fur and the resulting generalized hatred she developed for them all. Feelings of hurt, inadequacy and betrayal obliterate conscious thought, and her cravings for escape grow stronger. *

*A stash of cocaine is kept hidden in the false bottom of a decorative statue on her desk. It is just on the other side of the door to the small office she has adjacent to the infirmary. The statue dominates her thoughts like a sore tooth. Data entry cannot keep her mind from wandering back to that magical white powder any more than someone with a toothache can keep his or her tongue away from an infected molar. Why had she put the coke there? It was stupid to have any at work. It could only tempt her exactly as it was doing now. She tried biting her lip and tapping her feet as she typed on the computer, but the image of retrieving that white powder and making a line on her pocket mirror so she could snort it into her nose was now all consuming. No other thought can displace this ache. *

*As if controlled by a puppeteer's strings, she rises from the computer and moves towards her office door. A small voice inside her head warns her not to do this, but that voice is not in charge. The monster that keeps her in pain and hungry for release is in full control, and it wants the drugs. It wants her to go into her office. *

Her office is small, cramped and has no window. There is barely enough room for a desk and an extra chair for patients needing privacy. The infirmary is much nicer, so she does most of her work there unless one of those disgusting sub-humans is lounging around pretending to be ill.

*So focused is she on retrieving her little baggie of white powder, that she doesn't notice her office chair is occupied. It isn't until she has the bag in her trembling hand that she notices the obvious antlers sticking out from the high back of her office chair. Her indignation at this trespass of her private space by some mischievous furry student temporarily helps her forget her addiction. *

"What the hell are you doing in my office?" There is no motion or response. "This isn't funny. I want you out of here right now." When there is still no response, she reaches over the desk and spins the chair. "I said get..."

The presence of a male anthro elk tightly bound in green ribbon, with a neatly wrapped present in his lap stuns her into momentary silence. Now she is certain that this is some kind of sick practical joke. What the intent of the jokesters is, she doesn't care to dwell upon. Someone no doubt has discovered her revulsion for non-fleshies and thinks this is a humorous means to poke fun at her and humiliate this bound victim. She can try to sort all of that out later. Her need to get her hit overrides everything else. She just wants him gone.

Using scissors from her desk drawer, she attacks the ribbon to no effect. The indestructability of the fabric should have given her a warning that some unusual force was at work here, but her addictive craving has reduced her attention to one dominated by lust that suppresses her ability to reason. Scalpels and other sharp tools that are part of her work equipment also prove futile at damaging the ribbon.

Hopeless, desperate and nearly crying, she notices the present again and hesitatingly reaches for it hoping it contains the solution to this mystery. There is nothing extraordinary about the snowman themed paper or the bright red ribbon and bow. With shaking hands, she tears the wrapping off and opens the empty box ignoring the tag that warned her not to open it until Christmas.

*The plummeting sensation that follows as she is pulled through the box is a momentary relief to her stressed brain. She misinterprets this trip to Krampus' realm as the beginning of the disorienting high that she often feels after drugs enter her bloodstream. When her feet suddenly strike the hard ground in a brutal landscape of bare black rock and a red sky smudged with oily, black clouds, she remembers that the bag of coke is still on her desk next to the statue. This is happening to her without the aid of mind-altering substances. *

With her clean, white nurse's uniform, she feels absurdly out of place in this alien land. Her hands begin to tremble again as she realizes this is real and not a chemical hallucination. When she discovers the naked, horned goat like devil sitting upon a throne of jagged iron spikes with his malevolent eyes probing her soul, she nearly screams. Only the sudden dryness of her mouth and throat stops her from uttering more than a hoarse gasp.

She wants to run, but has no idea where she would go. The small half-acre parcel upon which she stands appears to be the only safe place around that isn't surfaced with jagged rock outcrops separated by deep chasms that belch forth steaming vapors. It is with momentary relief that she witnesses three teenage furs step out of the shadows at the edge of her locally flat territory. Flora's habitual revulsion for furs is suppressed by the normalcy of their appearance against the insane backdrop of this environment. Unlike the naked, mute and judgmental beast upon the metal throne, they are dressed as typical teenagers and smiling as they approach her. The furs are all tall, athletic boys who must be seniors judging by their adult size. The gray and white wolf, who is the shortest of the three is flanked by a tall tiger and an even taller jet black horse.

Holding his paws out with his arms open, the canid invites Flora into his comforting embrace. Terrified by the evil goat spirit and the disorienting nature of this lonely wasteland, she throws herself against him and hides her face in his shirt. His arms close gently around her back and his paws pat her soothingly. The horse and tiger encircle her making a protective shell.

The wolf's voice is as calm and comforting as his appearance. "Don't be afraid, Flora."

His words help soothe her and ease her fears, but she is puzzled by this stranger's easy familiarity. "How do you know my name? I don't recognize you - any of you. Do you attend Lakeland High?"

*"We do not attend your school, but we have names, like any human being. I am Chris. The horse is Troy, and the tiger is Peter. I know your name because Krampus told it to me." *

*"Who is Krampus?" *

A snort escapes the wolf's snout. "He is the distinguished gentleman upon that throne. He brought you here to punish and perhaps rehabilitate you."

The mention of the beast man renews her anxiety. "Punish me?" She begins to realize this wolf might not be her friend and savior. Flora tries to push away from the wolf, but he holds her tight to his body. She will only end up in the arms of the horse or the tiger if she does manage to get away, so her resistance is feeble. "Why does he want to punish me?"

"It is his job to do so. St Nicholas rewards the good, and Krampus punishes the naughty, all on this one night of the year. You want me to list your crimes? Very well. You don't respect us furs or give us the care you should as part of your position as nurse. Worse, you make poisons to deliberately harm us. All of this is because of your own self-loathing. You are destroying yourself and others along with you. You are wasting your life. These are all offenses that attract Krampus' attention."

The skinny nurse could not deny the charges against her. They are all true.

"What...what kind of punishment? What are you going to do to me?"

"Ironically, we are going to love you."

The reply is so unexpected, she has trouble processing it. "Huh? I...I don't get it. Love me how?"

"The way men and women were meant to love each other. The way that fellow humans love each other. You do see us as human don't you?"

"Well...I...Uh...I mean..."

Chris begins to unbutton his shirt, while Troy and Peter pull their t-shirts up over their heads. "It will go badly for you if you hold on to your prejudices. Try to move beyond your irrational and unfounded hatred. See us for who we really are, not what you have been taught"

This is not an easy task for the young nurse. Her prejudice is deeply rooted in her upbringing and one traumatizing event. The wolf's threat, "It will go badly for you," and the frightening malevolence that sits upon the iron throne intimidates her enough to try. Also, she can't help but feel an instant attraction to this caring young wolf. His demeanor is honest and friendly. Besides, he is just a pawn here like her of Krampus' diabolical will. As she examines the half-naked bodies that surround her, she tries to see beyond the fur to the human physique that is underneath. All three of the boys are built the way she fantasizes her lover would look, well-toned without being ridiculously over muscled.

Peter and Troy unzip their jeans and let them fall to the ground so they can step out of them. Finding herself staring at the horse's prominent bulge in his bright red boxers embarrasses her. She has seen enough anatomy when she trained to be a nurse that she is shamed at how eager she is to observe Troy get an erection. Shame and humiliation take hold of her as the scolding voices of her parents inside of her head reprimand her for thinking and feeling this way.

Then, Chris' muzzle is at her neck, where he softly suckles and licks her from the back of her ear down to the top of her collarbone. It is a simultaneously ticklish and erotic part of her body that has always driven her wild to have kissed. Chris makes her shiver with pleasure and forget for the moment the hateful voices inside her head. She closes her eyes and puts her hands on the wolf's shoulders. The fur makes her flinch involuntarily, so she concentrates on the strong muscles underneath.

The wolf moves lower with his lips and tongue, his claws unbuttoning and removing her white blouse. Her hands slide up the sides of his head to just behind his ears as he removes her bra and begins to tease her nipples with his tongue. What the other two furs are doing is a mystery to her, but she can hear them making noises behind her with similar grunts of pleasure and moans of passion as she was making. Despite a deep desire to watch two men making out, she keeps her eyes closed so she can imagine they are all fleshies. It helps.

Chris' tongue eventually leaves her breasts and traces a wet line own the center of her bare stomach, across her belly button and to the top of her white skirt, which he pulls down exposing her snow-white panties. Flora shudders with anticipation as those too slip down her thighs exposing her labia to the caress of her lover's warm breath. Even though she knows what is coming, she feels a shock and clutches tightly to the thick fur on the back of his head when his tongue runs the length of her slit from her taint to the sensitive button at the top.

None of her lover's has ever done this simple act before. It is indescribably intimate to sense his breath between her thighs and the warm muscular touch of his tongue slipping in an out of her vagina. When the end of his snout begins to rub against her clit as his tongue explores the deep recesses of her private space, she feels her orgasm beginning to build. As her teeth chatter together and she breathes in staccato gasps, her eyes open involuntarily.

She looks down at the top of Chris' head and sees not a man, but a dog. Troy and Peter are naked and together next to her kissing and gently stroking each other's cocks, which closely resemble the dicks of their feral counterparts. Troy's is long and thick with a flared end, and Peter's is tapered and covered in fleshy barbs. Ordinarily, watching two men make out was a major turn on for her, but she could not bring herself to consider them people. They were animals. Her intolerance and programmed revulsion for non-fleshies returns, killing her orgasm before it can blossom. God, how she longs for a line of coke to snort. She honestly does not think that she can stand letting any of these beasts touch her without it, even Chris.

Chris senses her growing discomfort. He stops licking and stands up. He is silent as he stares deep into her eyes. Peter and Brian stop their mutual fondling and stare silently at Flora. Stepping back, Chris unzips his pants and briefs, drops them to the ground and steps out of them. Unlike his friends, his dick is still sheathed.

He is sorrowful and his eyes are full of remorse and pity as he speaks the goat spirit's will. "Krampus does not sense any improvement or remorse for your behavior. I am truly sorry that it must be this way. Just remember, that we become what you think we are." As the last syllable leaves his lips, his transformation begins. Forepaws became like that of a feral wolf as does his face, arms and body until he is on all fours and completely lupine. Peter and Troy shift form as well until a feral tiger and horse stand side by side facing her.

The wolf that had been Chris advances towards her and shoves his canine snout between her legs. Instinctively, she interposes her hands between his cold, wet nose and her pussy. The wolf responds by grasping one wrist in his jaws and pulling her forward as he shuffles back. At the same time, she feels a heavy furry body rear up against her back, putting its paws on her shoulders and forcing her forward and down to her knees. Flora has to use both hands to arrest her fall and lands on her hands and knees. Orange and black striped forelegs slide off her shoulders and stand alongside her face. The cat's whiskers poke the top of her head. His dick pokes at the puckered entrance to her rectum. Flora thinks to lie down on her stomach to get away from the horrid beast, but the wolf rolls onto his back and slides up under her until his snout is poking at her unprotected vagina. Sandwiched between the two furry animals, she is trapped. The black horse that had been Troy trots in front of and over her and the tiger so that his sheathed penis hangs above and in front of her head. As the tiger pushes his barbed cock into her clenched asshole in short but deliberate thrusts, she tries futilely to resist the unpleasant sensation. The wolf resumes his exploration of her pussy with his tongue. Both Chris and Troy's cocks began to emerge from their sheaths simultaneously, one from above and one from below. She cannot escape having one or the other or both in her face.

This is her worst nightmare come true, being fucked by animals. It is worse than anthro furs - much worse. She bites her lip hard enough to taste the coppery flavor of blood as the tiger finally hilts in her ass and begins humping away in short, fast, painful jerks. The wolf continues to licks crazily and inexpertly at her vagina with his slobbery tongue. Troy's cock is completely hard now, and the long, pink and black mottled shaft rubs back and forth against her face. The big cat is growling in her ear with his teeth in the back of her neck so she cannot turn away as copious globs of pre cum from horse-Troy soak into her hair and run down the side of her neck.

Why had she thought of Chris, Troy and Peter this way? This is not how they really were. Chris is not a horny animal. He had spoken so kindly to her and held her lovingly in his strong arms. As an anthro, his oral ministrations had been profoundly tender and sensuous unlike this wolf's inexpert licking. She berates herself for her stupidity in letting other people's prejudices dictate her emotions, actions and beliefs. Though she knows that it is folly to deny that part of what she felt and did was based on her own personal negative experiences with furs, it is even greater stupidity to deny that she has been weak and infantile by trying to hide from her pain behind a wall of drug-induced oblivion.

As she contemplates the foolishness that has brought her to this state of degradation, Wolf-Chris turns about underneath her so his snout is directly below her face and his stiff canid member is pointing up between her thighs. Tiger-Peter then begins forcing her hind quarters lower with the weight of his huge tiger body and his strong feline muscles. Inexorably, her knees bend; her hips sink lower; the wolf's bright red tapered cock slides inside of her until she feels the huge, swollen bulb of his knot against her labia. The wolf-Chris licks her neck and chin enthusiastically, covering her in his wet slobber that then runs down between her breasts.

The big cat is not satisfied that she has both him and the wolf inside her body, though to her it seems the worst violation she can imagine. Clamping his teeth tighter on the back of her neck makes her open her mouth wide. Horse-Troy immediately positions the flared tip of his dick between her teeth and rams the whole length down her throat in one smooth motion until his huge swaying balls are bumping against her chin. Only Krampus' foul magic keeps her from choking and gagging on the huge tool. The scent of animal musk fills her nostrils and the taste pervades her mouth. With all three inside of her at once, she is certain their cocks all meet together somewhere inside her guts.

*Though the seconds seem to stretch on for what she experiences as an eternity, it is mere moments before all three of the beasts pause as one. With dread certainty, she knows what is coming next. The squirting warmth of the simultaneous injection of their seed is like a fire in her belly. Her stomach bulges in response from the infusion of so much cum. *

Horse-Troy slowly withdraws from her throat as his cock continues to buck from his ongoing orgasm. His last jet of cum fills her mouth as the tip of his cock slips past her lips. As tiger-Peter releases his hold on her neck, the semen and saliva in her mouth runs out to drip in the face of wolf-Chris, who greedily laps it up and cleans the rest from her face.

The cat then withdraws, the barbs of his dick tickling her colon with each passing inch, leaving her to collapse, exhausted on top of the wolf with a stream of cat semen leaking from her violated rear end. She feels the wolf's forelegs clutch at her back, and she buries her face in the ruff of fur at the side of his neck. His chest rises and falls slowly beneath her. Though he reeks of dog and horse semen and the lingering scent of cat hangs about them both, she is comforted by the shaggy warmth of his body and the belief that somewhere inside this beast is Chris, who has been kind to her. He would protect her against further harsh assaults that Krampus might order on her body. She keeps her eyes tightly closed and tries to avoid the stare of the demonic beast, but his malevolent gaze invades her thoughts. The goat man's judgmental gaze is upon her still.

"Oh, Chris, please hear me. I want you. I need you. I'm sorry that I thought of you as an animal - as something less than human. You are as human as I am, and...and I love you. I love you just the way you are. Please come back and protect me. Please..." Her sobs wracked her body and made her oblivious to the shifting contours of the feral lupine beneath her as he transforms back to an anthro wolf. Even the gentle but familiar caress of his paws is lost to her as she wishes fervently for a chance to undo the damage she has caused here and on earth with her mindless bigotry and self-loathing.

It is not until Chris speaks that she opens her eyes. "Shhh. Don't cry, love. I am here. I will do what I can to help you."

Flora is so grateful to see him in his original form again, that she grabs the sides of his snout and kisses him deeply. "Thank you. Thank you for coming back."

*"You brought me back, Flora. I think Krampus is impressed by your change of heart, but you must prove to him that you are truly sincere in your acceptance of others besides your own kind to end the punishment." *

*Flora is unsure what she could do to convince or satisfy the leering demon on his iron throne. Summoning what little courage she has, she locks eyes with the servant of darkness. His implacable expression tells her nothing except that everything that will happen next is up to her. It is a giddy and unusual feeling for her to feel that she has control of her life. Events in her life have always seemed to sweep over her and carry her along like a piece of driftwood on the tide. *

*Was this punishment actually a gift in disguise? Would she be allowed to make it something positive if she so chose? Did she have anything to lose if she tried? Deciding the answer to the last question was no, she sits upright, still straddling Chris, whose softening cock is beginning to slide out of her pussy. The warm sticky mixture of their sex fluids flows out to soak her thighs and his fur. *

Tiger-Peter is sitting nearby on his haunches watching her. Flora gestures for the cat to come closer. When he does, she wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. "Peter, I am sorry to you also. You are not a beast any more than Chris. You are a man, and I beg you to forgive me." This time she feels the rippling shift in form under her grasp and watches in amazement as the tiger becomes a handsome, striped, fury boy kneeling beside her. She happily kisses his muzzle then beckons horse-Troy over and does the same with him.

Even with all three boys restored to their normal anthro form, Flora knows that she is still not through with her penance, if she ever will be. One more act of atonement remains. Now that she has cast aside her inhibitions and prejudices, she finds herself eager for what she has planned next.

Her left hand moves slowly down Troy's chest and abdomen until it holds his thick sheath. While doing the same to Peter with her right, she looks Chris in the eyes. "Would you boys like to try this again as real men?" Chris stiffens again inside of her in response. Troy and Peter aren't far behind. Bobbing up and down on her wolf lover, she strokes Troy and Peter's dicks as they nuzzle her neck and arouse her nipples with their mouths.

Her climax comes so soon, so intense and so unexpectedly that she shouts out in surprise. The convulsions that shake her body are the most intense she has ever felt. When the rippling ecstasy finally slows, she takes Troy into her mouth. Though he is not as large in this form as he had been in feral form, she cannot swallow him as she had before.

As she sucked the flared end of his horse cock, she points to her butt. Peter understands and moves around behind her again, kneeling astride Chris' legs to enter her rear door. She gasps from the tickling of his barbed dick but welcomes the sensation. Having all three inside her this way is fulfilling and enjoyable. It is nothing like the feral rape she had experienced earlier. She wants it to go on forever, but by the sound of the boys grunts, they are all soon on the verge of cumming again.

*"Stop, boys. Please indulge me. Peter, would you pull out of my ass, please?" The tiger frowns but does as she asked. Flora spins about until she is reverse cowgirl on Chris. With all the strength she can muster, she pushes her pelvis downward forcing the wolf's knot inside her pussy. It is a stretch that makes her cry out, but once it is snug in its new home, she sighs in relief and pleasure. Chris meanwhile is panting heavily trying to hold back his orgasm and wonders what she is up to. *

Now that she is facing the cat, he puts her hand under Peter's chin and brings his snout forward to kiss. "Earlier, you and Troy were starting something behind my back. Do mind finishing it here in front of me while I ride this wolf and milk him dry?"

Peter smiles like the Cheshire cat and positions himself on his hands and knees. "Not at all, Miss Flora." He sticks is butt up in the air and flicks his long tail up onto his back."

Troy appeared to hesitate a moment, so Flora goaded him. "Are you waiting for a formal invitation, stud?"

Now it was Troy's turn to smile. "Not at all, ma'am," he replied with his adorable Texas accent. Spitting in the palms of his hooves, he lubed up the end of his cock and positioned himself at the entrance to Peter's boy pussy. "Y'all ready, Pete?"

"Always am, Troy. You know me. Shove away."

Without waiting for further prompting, the horse pushes his long equine dick inside the tiger in a smooth, continuous, and well-practiced motion. Peter lets his breath out in one extended exhale during the process, then shivers as he draws in a fresh lungful of air before leaning forward to kiss Flora. "Do you like to watch two guys getting it on?"

*She returned the kiss. "I do." *

*With Chris' soft paws on her narrow waist and her lips locked with the cat's, she grinds her pelvis against the wolf; she is too firmly knotted to slide up and down his shaft. Troy follows suit and began to thrust in and out of Peter as he strokes the tiger's barbed shaft. Flora can feel the deep rumbling murr from Chris rising up through her thighs and buttocks. As she kisses Peter with her eyes open to watch Troy bent over his backside, she can hear the tiger's loud purr. *

It is heavenly, but she still wants something different before they cum again. Urging Peter and Troy to get to their feet, she manages to get them standing with the tiger still impaled by Troy's thick shaft. Pulling the two closer, she positions Peter's dick between her breasts and squeezes his shaft in her cleavage. The barbs tickle the soft flesh of her breasts as the cat's shaft moves up and down in response to the colt's renewed thrusting from behind.

She had been so wrong, and now everything felt so right. She begs for this coupling to go on forever. The hostile landscape is ugly, but seemingly timeless. Flora is grateful for this sense of a frozen moment. When her second orgasm does arrive after an indeterminate amount of time, she is ready and welcomes the waves of infinite pleasure that fill all of her senses. Her loud moaning is the cue the boys had all waited for. Peter is first to blow, spraying his milky cat spunk over her face. Clamping her lips over the pink tip, she catches as much as she can in her mouth.

*As Troy begins to ejaculate inside Peter, Flora motions for him to pull out and spray her face. He obliges allowing her to fill the rest of her mouth with his jizz so she can mix it all together with her own saliva. Surprising Peter, she covers his mouth with hers and passed part of the salty blend to him. Realizing what she is doing, he purrs deep in his chest and swallows a portion of the gift. Not wanting to be left out, Troy quickly kneels in front of her and receives his part of the snowball. *

Flora still has part of their milky syrup in her mouth, but she can't turn around to deliver it to Chris. His knot has her firmly locked in place. Sensing her dilemma, Troy and Peter each kneel down to give Chris a kiss thus delivering his share for her. Flora has never before experienced such pleasurable sex, and it was with three furries. She would have never thought it possible.

After swallowing, Chris clears his throat. "Krampus says you have been properly punished, and now you are wasting his time. It is time for you to go."

Flora is distressed. She does not want leave Chris. "But what about us? I don't want to be separated from you." She tries pull off his knot so she can turn around and embrace him, but is frustrated by her inability to move off it or even to spin around. "This is maddening, I want to hold and kiss you, but I'm stuck."

"This is what happens when you take a wolf lover. You have to think ahead and be in the position you want to stay in when you take the knot." Flora begins to cry, and Chris feels her tears dripping down on to his thighs and testicles. "Why are you crying, love?"

"I'm afraid that none of this is real, that you aren't real. I don't know if I am strong enough to change myself and go on without you."

Chris sits up and hugs her tightly to his chest, wrapping his arms around her stomach. "Though I am but a simulacrum, there is a real Chris."

"Will I be able to meet him? Will he remember all this? Will he love me?"

"He will not remember all of this. As to meeting him, that is up to an agent other than Krampus. The horned one delivers only punishment, not rewards. It is up to St Nicholas to deliver gifts to the good, and even he cannot control a person's desires. I can only say that if the real Chris is anything like me, I don't see how he couldn't love you the instant he meets you as I did."

"Why would St Nicholas reward me? I have been a terrible person."

"There is still time tonight. Who knows? Perhaps he will see in you what I see and take pity. However, that is irrelevant now. It is time for you to go. Krampus has others to visit."

Flora tries to protest, but Chris covers her mouth with his paw. "Krampus has one small part yet for you to play before the night is over. Go along with it. No further harm or punishment will come to you. You're just a diversion."

During their conversation, his knot had slowly deflated allowing his softening cock to slide out of her pussy. He stood and helped Flora to her feet as he did. Peter and Troy both smiled, bowed to her, walked to edge of their oasis in the jumbled landscape and melted back into the shadows. Flora tried to stop Chris, but green ribbons rose out of cracks in the ground and began to entwine themselves about her body. Chris kisses her one last time then fades into the shadow along with his friends.

She is too distraught over losing Chris to care what happens to her next. If Krampus wishes to punish her further, she will not resist. A commitment to destroy all of her drugs, burn down her lab, and begin treating all the non-fleshies as humans was firmly present in her mind. With or without Chris, she is committed to turning her life around.

---

Is rape, especially by ferals, too harsh of a punishment for peddling drugs, taking drugs and being a bigot? Perhaps it is according to our modern standards. However, the reader must remember that Krampus is the product of a different age with different standards of morality and retribution. Do not believe for a moment that if he comes for you, he will listen to your pleas for modern mercy and understanding. The next story is a perfect example. Continue on to the final chapter in this brief holiday saga if you have the stomach for a truly horrendous punishment.

Maxton Bradshaw, the Molester

Written by Tanuskidoodle

The high school Physical Education teacher and sports coach is ending the day in his usual manner: watching the day's footage from the boy's and girl's locker room showers to search for his next possible victims. Licking his lupine lips, he scopes out the students that he has been selecting and verbally demeaning, in order to prepare them for his sexual desires when the lust hits him: the budding she dragon with the tiny breasts in first period; second period has that hippo boy who wears those Coke bottle prescription glasses; and that foul mouth Scrafty in period three. There are also the scores of nubile teens on the sports teams he coaches for the school. The strapping elk on the football team is a particular favorite of his.

Adults, parents and teachers alike, are also on his ever changing fuck list. There is a human nurse, who he happened to go to high school with, that the man has had his way with since his teenaged days. The young buck of an assistant coach has also had what the wolf considers his whole nine yards in his used to be tight tail hole. Every year, the instructor picks form the litter of new teachers the expanding institution brings in. Maxton takes them out for a few drinks; then, he slips them a mickey and slips himself into any and all available orifices that they have. Parent teacher conferences are always long awaited events for him. Parents are just as willing to be violated to insure their offspring's good marks.

*He is now running his paw over the full tent in his sweatpants as he watches the video of all the ripe, impressionable, nude freshman that he teaches during fourth period. It's late in the evening and all the students who stay for sports have left, so the canine figures that he'll let his lower half have some air as he begins to whittle down his choices to his most promising and easy targets. As the coach reaches for his waistband, he hears the showers turn on. "The Hell?" he thinks to himself. "Everyone should be gone. Well, looks like I won't have to be using my paw tonight." The predatory P.E. teacher eagerly gets up and makes his way to the tiled area, where he has happened to have many of his victim's virginity over the years, and peeks around the corner. *

*The sight that awaits him makes his perverted eyes bulge from his wolfen skull. A nude, fleshy female figure, helplessly tied to a double headed shower faucet and bound from head to toe by glossy green ribbons, awaits him. At her feet, sits a present, wrapped in snowman wrapping paper and a fancy red ribbon. "Don't Open Until next X-Mas" is scrawled on the tag dangling from it's top. *

Eyeing the busty form in front of him, the lustful coach declares, "Christmas has come early for me, and I know where I want to start opening my gift." With and extended digit and claw, he slowly approaches the figure. His nose catches a familiar scent, and Maxton smiles hungrily. "My, Flora, I didn't know you were a freak. All these years keeping your kinky side from me. I think I know a certain bad girl who needs to be punished for keeping something so fun from Papa." Papa is the name that he has had all who he as violated over the years call him. It is also the name by which his wife and cub daughters know him.

*The twitching, enthusiastic claw is mere inches away from the bound silhouette's genitalia. At that very moment, the ribbons instantly unwind themselves from the captive nurse and begin whiplashing the lupine's face. Flora speaks as he staggers backward to the opposite wall of the showers. "After all these years, it's finally time for you to get what's yours, Maxton Bradshaw. Krampus is here, and he's got your punishment lined up for you." As he contemplates the angry human's words, the coach tries to cover his face to protect it from the whipping ribbons. However, his paws, as toned and muscular as they are, become tender and even begin to bleed slightly. "You're the reason I've come to detest anthros; you're the reason I've let that hate drive me to profiting from them buying drugs from me; You're the reason I use drugs and sex to dull my own pains, all of which were caused by what you've done to me over the years. I doubt a person like you can even be saved, but your fate as of now is none of my concern." With that, Flora picks up the present, tears away the wrapping paper, and opens the box. She holds the opening toward her sexual assaulter, and the lupine is sucked in by the ensuing vortex, passing out as he spins on his disorienting descent. *

*When the molester comes to, he is suspended off the ground by the green ribbons, which seem to extend out of mortal sight into the infinite expanse of Krampus' red sky. The tips of his toned hindpaws barely touch the cold ground. The first thing Maxton notices is the ribbon chastity belt constricting his sheath and sack, forming a delicate bow at the very base of his fleshy penile covering. Feeling the chill all over his body, the wolf realizes that his festive sex restraint is the only covering he has on his nude, muscular frame. He tries to call for help, but another ribbon is tied securely around his muzzle, preventing him from opening his mouth. He clenches his eyes shut as he struggles and causes himself to swing slightly back and forth. He soon tires. Opening his eyes, he is met by the dominating, spirit crushing, gaze of the demonic capra who has set the stage for his rightful punishment. *

*Before the coach can protest, Krampus grabs him by the neck and forces the man to maintain the eye contact. The corporal executioner growls from deep within his diaphragm, and the lupine begins to tremble from the increasing atmosphere of fear that is beginning to pull his very soul into the lifeless, desolate plane that the Anti-Claus rules over. The brawny goat man punches the canid in his stomach, knocking the air out of his body and causing the sex offender to curl from the pain. Gravity pulls the man's legs back down as Krampus walks behind the scared wolf. *

Maxton's trepidation makes him tremble from the silence, knowing that the dominating force of a being behind him is planning something. He flinches at the sound of the demon snapping his fingers. The molester whimpers when he feels a tube pushing through his anus and a warm, thick fluid pouring into his rectal canal. The tube is forcibly removed, and the gym teacher holds his sphincter tight. Not that he needed much help with that, the instinctual fear forcing his body's every natural reaction into overdrive. Another long, slow moment of silence begins as the liquid in his body causes his virgin pucker to grow warmer and relaxed. As if the solution is expanding with a mind of its own, it starts to push against his tailhole. He wills for himself to tighten it; however, at that very moment, he feels a sharp pang on his back.

While the lupine male was distracted by the enema fluid inside of him, Krampus took the opportunity to lash at his victim's back with a cat-of-ninetails, the resulting marks cutting right through his fur and shaving a thin layer of skin from the man's back. As Maxton wrenches from the searing pain, a small amount of the fluid escapes his sphincter. The canine whimpers and tightens his ass. When the mediocre athlete swings backward, the caprine punisher begins vehemently whipping the small of the wolf's back and ass. The lupine contorts his body, in hopes of avoiding the assault. His actions are for naught, and, as the ancient adjudicator of morals lands every blow on his increasingly tender target, fluid trickles out of the weakening anus. After less than a minute of resistance, Maxton gives in and stops his struggling, allowing all the fluid to flow freely from his rectum and onto the ground. He instantly begins to cry from the physical pain and spiritual humiliation, and the tears flow as freely as the enema fluid.

The reader should note that our caprine administrator of moral restitution can be quite brutal to his more prolifically bad victims. However, everything that has taken place and will take place is necessary for the molester to learn his lesson. Krampus does believe that the punishment should fit the crime, and, for this man who demoralizes and sexually assaults his victims, the punishment must be memorable. Things will be getting rougher from here so readers would do well to mentally prepare. Remember, St. Nick's counterpart may yet come for you one day.

Maxton is so focused on his humiliation that he does not feel another set of ribbons wrap around his ankles. As his legs are slowly raised forward, the wolf is snapped back to reality by a quickening in his taint area. The flesh there is puckering and becoming wet. A familiar scent hits his snout. It is the smell of vaginal essence, a smell he is familiar with from sniffing the panties left in the girl's locker room after hours. "No Fucking way!" he exclaims in his head. "I can't have a pussy! I'm a man!" The ribbons around his wrist pull up his upper bod, and his eyes widen at the site of the female folds that have just formed between his ass and balls.

*The sex offender notices something else from his new vantage point. He resumes struggling and tries to protest, but the festive shackles and muzzle make it amount to little more than wasted effort on the bound anthro's part. The lupine's eyes lock on the two, thick, black, veiny, human cocks that protrude, one over another, from Krampus' fur covered sheath and sack. A quick, strong, backhanded slap from his captor elicits a pathetically, loud whimper from the coach. Before the man can recover, The horned punisher reaches up and grabs the canid by the scruff of his neck and shoots him a soul piercing gaze. Maxton feels his resistance shrink to nothingness, crushing any hopes of escape from his inevitable comeuppance. *

*Without warning, Krampus thrusts forward and pierces both unlubed, virgin openings in one strong stroke, decimating the freshly formed hymen. The dual sensation from his unused tailhole and freshly formed pussy force him to produce a muffled scream as they adjust to the thickness of the twin dicks that were forced inside. As the dog whines pitifully, the ancient punisher begins to violently fuck both holes of the sexual predator, with pure, unadulterated abandon. The man continues screaming, the pain growing more searing with every motion of Krampus' flesh rods. *

Although he hates every moment of this violation, Maxton's cock begins to strain against its green bindings. The assumed pleasure of his victims has always been one of his best justifications for his actions. The tables are now turned. The gym teacher feels a strange mix of disgust and pleasure that fills his sex rattled psyche. His wolfen tool is now outlined by the thin but strong ribbons holding it down. Seeing his victim's arousal, even if it was an involuntary reaction, was always one of his favorite parts of his sexual conquests. He now knows the terror of simultaneous violation and pleasure in a forced participant's mind. The canine is also learning how all victims, both male and female, of his indiscriminant want of power driven sex feel simultaneous physical and mental pain from his actions.

*Krampus pulls completely out of his victim and impales both holes again in one final climax inducing thrust. Demonic caprine jizz fills both the wolf's pussy and asshole as Krampus' loud satisfied grunts of pleasure overshadow the coach's muffled moans and groans of self-pity and humiliation. The moral executioner resumes his violent bucking into Maxton's tender, twin love tunnels. A mix of whimpers and moans sound off from the athlete's sealed mouth as Krampus' stoic eyes lock with Maxton's. Sensing the regret, fear, and pain in the man's soul, Krampus roughly pulls out of his victim and allows him to stew in his newfound misery for a moment. *

*When that short moment is up, Krampus shoves his thick, muscular hooves into the helpless fur. More muffled sounds of pain come from the fist-plugged canid. The capra begins to slowly pull out and punch into the man, alternating his fists. Tears pour profusely from Maxton's eyes as his frosted, tenderized ass and cunt are further brutalized by the demon's strong, fur covered arms. When he feels that the lust driven canine has had enough, Krampus thrust both arms, all the way to his elbows, into the gym teacher and pulls out as hard as he can. The anti-Claus waves his hoof in the sky, causing the ribbons holding the canid's ankles and wrist to dissolve into thin air. *

The coach lands on his back hard and wrenches his body from the shooting pain, which is compounded by the streaks of exposed skin from the lashing the offender suffered through just minutes ago. He is unable move his arms and legs, and ribbons still bind his mouth and crotch. To his further debasement, his cock is almost suffocating against the confines of its holiday restrictions, and he feels the mix of hot cum and blood seep out of his ass and pussy. The lupine wants to run and hide, like the coward a person like him truly is. However, his agony from the suspension, whipping, and brutal fucking and fisting have left him with little energy or mobility for such an action. After centuries of practice and experience, Krampus would not be so careless as to leave any true option of escape.

*Reaching for the sky, Krampus calls fourth his next implement for the wolf's punitive session. After slowly getting on his knees, the caprine powerfully lashes the man's lupine rod with a riding crop in one swift strike, giving it the opposite kind of attention it is pleading for. The searing sensation overrides every other pain, and the still crying Maxton reflexively pops up his upper body as he groans from the torture. Krampus responds with another hard strike to the canine's genitals before pushing his victim back onto the ground. With inhuman speed, the goat man places his knee on the coach's chest, applying pressure and forcing the man's scarred back harder into the cold, hard ground. The lashing resumes immediately. Soon, the deviant's knotted dick swells to the point of bursting through the ribbon confines. *

As Krampus stands, the canid looks upon his hard, punishment swollen, cock as he pathetically whimpers from his situation. He's never liked the thought of the tables being turned on him. The very thought would always cause his staff to go limp and unresponsive. However, due to the authoritarian capra's control in this world, his physical arousal and moral humiliation are simultaneously maximized by his schlong's need for release.

*Krampus is now on his knees over the mortified wolf's face. The whimpering wolf shakes his head vehemently as he sees that the caprine's two staves are merging into one, massive, column of a human manhood that is thicker than most horses'. A strong hoof takes the canid by the throat, and Krampus push's his masculine pipe against the snout of the sex offender. Bit by bit, the coach's mouth is forced open, soon forming a tear in the ribbon binding around his muzzle. In one decisive thrust, the demon's rigid, man cock forces its way through the wolfen victim's mouth and rips the ribbon in half. *

*Gagging on the fleshy man cannon in his throat, the lupine produces more saliva and tears than he ever has before. He knows why this is happening. One of his favorite things to do is pin his victims on their backs and force them to deepthroat his cock as he watches their eyes bulging and listens to their choking throats. With every centimeter that is being forced into his muzzle, more and more regret fills the wolf's soul. A back scarred with lashes; blood seeping from his fucked and fisted holes; the monstrous cock filling his inexperienced throat. He has lost any form of virginity he had left, just as he has done to his multitude of prey over the years. The gym teacher swears to never forget this punishment. Little does he know, Krampus plans on seeing to that. *

*The capra bucks, without any concern or reservations, into Maxton's mouth. Approaching climax, Krampus brings his fist down upon the degenerate teacher's physically toned stomach, forcing the canine's mouth to open wider in an attempt to scream from the pain as his knotted, edged cock bobs from the force of the blow. The demon's human dick hilts in the mouth of the pathetic man prostrate before him. The ancient moral punisher trembles while his thick, scorching hot, caprine seed flows, unhalted, into the deviant's body. The wolf's schlong muffled screams of terror, agony, and degradation is the only reaction his body can make. *

*Krampus falls forward from the draining orgasm of his physical body and catches himself by planting his hooves firmly onto the ground. The time he has left in this world is growing short. The otherworldly capra decides to finish up his last victim's punishment. *

Baring his sharp teeth, the goat man bites down hard on the canid cock in front of him. As Krampus grinds his teen into the coach's knot and shaft, Maxton screams as his lupine jizz shoots forth from his man bone, landing on the lifeless, grey ground around him. The forced orgasm adds to his humiliation, and the pain in his rapidly softening member, which is pierced even more by his captor's razor like fangs, causes him to blackout. Krampus lifts himself off the ground and his unconscious victim's body. Krampus clasps his hooves together, and he along with his world disappears from the earthly plane, leaving the sexual predator of a coach in his living room. His wife and kids are certain to see his nude, scarred, violated body before he wakes up.

Epilogue

The reader should be able deduce from these stories that though Krampus has no sympathy what-so-ever for his more evil victims, who are less deserving of comfort, he does not punish unnecessarily. There is a strong chance his first two victims, who suffered relatively minor abuse, have seen the error of their ways and will reform. Our wayward nurse has serious problems that are not easily corrected in a single night, but she appears to have learned from her punishment and be heading in the right direction. We sincerely wish that St Nick sees this too and grants her wish. Will the coach truly reform? Only time, and the wolf himself, can answer that.

It is now midnight, and Krampus' duties are done for the season. He must rest and select candidates and punishments for the coming year. Beware, dear reader! You may be next on his list.

[END OF STORY]