1.
Somewhere deep in the arctic a great beast lies on the floor of an ice cavern held by three chains still striped with bruises from the shaft of a fireplace poker.
2.
Lord Hugh Stephen, sat in his chambers by the fire. The sun had just set on Christmas Day and he had a brandy, a fire, and a book. The staff, or most of them, was off for Boxing Day after receiving their Christmas bonus from the Lord of McMurray Manor.
Eighteen hundred and eighty-seven had been a good year. Queen Victoria was on the throne. The Empire was strong. And this year he had make unseemly amounts of money from his investments. Not having any family -- other than a sister and nephew -- Stephens had no issues with sharing his good fortune with those around him who made his life more leisurely. By all accounts of employee, peer, and even rival Stephen's was an honorable man seemingly blessed by Heaven itself. He did not look his 60 years -- trim and fit, his health was superb, and as a fair number of ladies could attest to his never failing sex drive and a yule log of a John Thomas that outdid their husband's.
It was midnight when he awoke with a start. The fire had died to embers, which had substantially dimmed the room. For a reason he could not say, perhaps an old big game hunter's instinct, he was ill at ease. A clicking on the roof caused his hand to move to the drawer of the table beside him where his brandy glass sat and he produce a Colt Army Revolver and a set of handcuffs. "If I can get through the day without shoot someone that would be for the best. And blood plays hell coming out of the Persian rugs." He thought.
He scanned the room sliding the cuffs into his robe pocket. "Something is here."
"You mean me?"
Bolt quick his lordship spun around with the weapon knocking over a pedestal table. The room was empty.
"Behind you."
Again he twisted only to have his hand caught by something many times stronger than he. Standing near seven feet tall the creature was smoke black with large silver eyes and a flowing, silver-gray mane framed with oryx-like horns. It shook his arm like a doll's and the gun flung into shadows. He reached into the creature hair a slid his hand down to it cheek along its neck across a very full bosom. His eyes never left the monster's. In its own way it was strangely -- "Beautiful."
The creature released his hand and laughed. Maybe it blushed -- if that was possible. "Oh, you are a naughty boy." It pushed him "lightly" sending him to the floor. "I am so sorry I forget my own strength."
"You are a devil?"
"Of a sort."
"Which sort?"
"Christmas."
"Krampus? You do not look like the Old Germanic drawings. Not at all."
"You are adorable. And a flatterer." The Krampus was upon him. She lifted his head kissing him hard and deep. Her tongue seemed to have a mind of its own his mouth and down his throat. Her hand groped at his crotch. "Let me see it."
He pushed her back breaking this kiss and revealing her tongue's demonic length. "Madame. control yourself. I require some answers. First, as I am to understand it you are a devil that punishes small children for being naughty around Christmas. As I am neither small, nor a child, or naughty -- why are you here?"
"That is a lie." The creature cooed.
"You a self-professed devil, have the audacity to doubt my veracity."
"How many women? Wives included."
"But it is Christmas I give you that. Eighty-ish -- damn I do seem to be slowing on the pace." He laughed. "Although, naughty I'll have you know when I fuck a women I fuck her right. I am not naughty by anyone's definition I am a much better lay than merely naughty."
"And that is why I am here." She positioned herself by the bed's foot board. Her arms spread wide to each bed poster. "You have you own legend" She stared at his pants. Swaying seductively she spread her legs wide. She could feel himself stiffen as he marveled at her. Her face, her huge near supernaturally supported breasts each capped with a padlock size piercing a heavy chain between them, a loin cloth that covered nothing, and long legs that ended in a furred high-heeled hoof. Hugh suddenly felt very hungry. Their connection had begun to take hold and the beast knew it.
"Is that so? And what is my legend?" He smiled knowing that throughout the Empire men refused to leave their daughters, fiancés, or wives alone with him.
"They say you manhood is the standard of Britain. That you have banged half of Europe's princesses and almost every Duchess or Lady-In-Waiting in all Europe's courts. The counts in Asia, Africa, and the Americas are similarly staggering. Frankly, I just don't believe such tall tales and I have to experience it to lend it any credence. You human boast way too..."
He opened his robe revealing a muscular body of a man half his years. The monster looked at his thick furred chest, thick arms, taut stomach, and erect cock. His hands on his waist he had no shame, nor cause to."
"...oh my. That is..."
"Ma'am that is eleven and one half inches balls deep depending on the temperature and my mood. Roughly three in diameter according to one lady that asked to measure it. She was worried it would ruin her. And it did." Taking the initiative he quickly grabbed the chain that linked her nipples and spun her around. It was the monster's turn to be impressed by speed and strengthen. Tearing the meager covering away Hugh unceremoniously plunged every inch of himself into the beast. With her legs spread wide she could do nothing but take it.
She had him now.
"Oh, fuck me." She roared. He obliged, as his hands clawed at her breasts. There was no subtly about it he fully intended to work her over. "Goddamn, human. I had hoped for this type of fucking but dare not dream that you would..." Hugh changed his pace slowly pulling out of her cunt almost all the way only to then to jarringly reclaim her. The troll started to purr.
