They were caroling again.
How Richard hated caroling.
He glowered at the group outside the grocery store, who were dressed up in outfits and scarves so twee it made him sick. Of course, he didn't just hate the carols. He hated the whole season. The forced cheer. The excessive lighting. The unpleasant relatives and catalogs stuffed into his mailbox. Not even the grocery store provided a respite.
"Merry Christmas," the cashier said sweetly.
Richard sneered as he grabbed his grocery bag. "Is it?" he snapped.
The cashier tilted her head, her eyes already drifting with the understanding that it was going to be one of
those
customers. "I guess not."
"Of course not!" Richard said, hammering a finger down on the counter. "It's not Merry. It's not happy. It's not even jolly! It's all just consumerism bullshit gussied up in lace and ribbon. A pagan holiday owned by the corporate lobby."
The cashier's smile was as painted on as the Santa on the wall. "Ah, of course."
"You don't think it's ridiculous? Insane? How is anyone supposed to be cheery at a time like this!"
"It is a trial," she said drily.
"Exactly! Load of bullshit!"
Huffing, Richard turned, shoulders hunched as he stalked out. Even the binging sound of the automatic doors sliding open seemed overly festive to him. Snow danced down from the darkening sky, the red glow of Christmas lights washing over him as he drove home. Not even his driveway was spared the festive assault, the neighbours having put up a manger scene in the front yard, an inflatable Santa looming over it like some pink-cheeked kaiju.
Richard muttered as he picked his way up the drive, his hand groping in his pocket for his keys. Bunch of holly jolly fuckwits, that's what they were. Everyone was utterly taken in by the stupid holiday. He opened the door, slammed it shut behind him so hard it rattled the windows.
"Well well! Someone isn't feeling the Christmas Spirit."
The grocery bag slipped from Richard's suddenly nerveless fingers. There was a woman in his living room, sitting on the couch, because his easy chair wouldn't have a prayer of holding her.
Only in the blackest corners of the internet had he ever seen such curves. Her breasts were bigger than his head and her hips took up fully half the couch. Her hair was a thick mane of brown, framing a face stunningly lovely with eyes as sweet and brown as melted chocolate. A pair of stubby cow horns curved up from her hair, and her skin was lightly tanned.
But it was her clothes, if they could even be called clothes, that made Richard gape in shock. The only thing she wore was some leather straps like a harness, two looping around her breasts, crossing in a V to hide the treasure between her legs. When she stood, she towered over him, her smile warm and lovely, her breasts jiggling like two bowlfuls of jelly.
"Wh-who are you?" Richard gasped. "How'd you get in here?"
"I'm Kalina, and I came down the chimney. Ho ho ho," she said, every ho accompanied by a bounce of her breasts.
Richard was so captivated by that motion he almost forgot his hatred of all things festive. But he quickly shook his head, glaring at the busty stranger.
"I don't know who you are, but if you don't leave right now I'm calling the cops!"
"Mmm. I can see why old Kringle sent me," Kalina hummed, crossing her arms under her breasts, giving them a bounce. "You're clearly very... naughty..."
Once more Richard's mind was derailed by the sight of those wobbling orbs. He even thought he could hear a subtle sloshing. "N-naughty? What... what are you talking about?"
"Silly boy. I'm Kalina, your local Krampus, and I've come because someone's not feeling the season."
"Krampus? The hairy horned things?"
"Oh yes, that's how we used to work. Going around birching naughty children and carrying them away. But then child abuse became a thing, and we really wanted to tone down the image. And, of course, domestication. Ah, those wild days."
"D-domestication?" Richard stammered, his eyes again drawn to the ways her breasts wobbled in her arms, straining the leather straps.
"Mhmm. Couldn't be wild forever, you know. And the spirits of the holidays have changed so much. You should see the elves! But old gods, new jobs, and my new job is finding naughty boys and turning them good."
"I-I am not naughty!" Richard said, even as he blushed at just saying the word. Sounding like an indignant child.
His flush only got worse at her indulgent smile. "Of course you are! But don't you worry. Momma Krampus is going to make you into a very good boy."
She walked towards him and Richard retreated. His back hit the door and he fumbled for the knob. Fuck she was tall! She was suddenly before him, her wobbling breasts level with his face. There was a scent around her. A warm, comforting aroma like gentle woodfire and... cream...
"Don't you wanna be a good boy for me?" Kalina cooed.
"Um..."
"Because good boys get to play with mommy's big... bouncy... boobs..."
Richard felt his jaw drop as she bounced her tits an inch from his face. His cock throbbed in time to those motions, straining his pants, his eyes locked with those busty boobs. Those massive milkers. Those fat, plush tits...
"And good boys get presents for the holidays. And I know you want to be a good boy. Can you tell momma that? That you wanna be a good boy for her?"
Even as Richard's soul rebelled against her demeaning tone and words, he found himself staring at her immense breasts. Wanting them. Needing them. He realized he'd stopped trying to turn the door handle, but then... he... he supposed he didn't have to leave. She didn't seem to mean any harm. So... so why not hear what she had to say?
"That's right," Kalina hummed, still bouncing her breasts in her arms. "No need to run. Only naughty boys run. And you want to be a good boy so bad..."
"N-not a good boy," Richard said with waning indignity.
"No? Then, are you a naughty boy?"
"N-no," Richard said, brow furrowing with the effort. It was getting awfully hard to think. Hard to do anything when those big breasts were bouncing before his eyes.
Bouncing.
Sloshing.
Wobbling.
"No? Goodness me," Kalina cooed. "It's sounding like you just don't know what kind of boy you are. How silly. We must get to the bottom of this, mustn't we? And we can do that with the help of mommy's big... bouncy... breasts..."
Richard wasn't sure if they could get to the bottom of the problem. Or if there was a problem. But he did know he wanted to see more of the holstaur's breasts. He nodded vaguely. "Um, okay. Right. Then... uh..."
"This way," she said, taking his hand, drawing him into the living room. "Watch your step."
Richard stumbled over some of his spilled groceries, but failed to pay them much attention. The whole of his being seemed focused on Kalina's breasts. The scent of cream and smoke was overpowering now. Filling his nose. Stuffing his head like it was full of cottony clouds. Soft as snow. Warm as love. He was honestly grateful when she eased him down onto the couch, for his legs had been feeling so awkward and weak.
"There we are. Isn't that so much better?" Kalina cooed, gently pushing him into the cushions.
"Y-yeah. B-better..."
"Of course. And now, we'll find out if you really do want to be a good boy, and properly... get into the season..."
"S-season's stupid," Richard said blearily.
"Oh my. How cold you are to the holiday spirit. A right, naughty Scrooge. But don't worry, baby. I'll make you feel so warm..."