Page 59 of Kraved By Krampus

“Not yet,” he chides gently, his fingers retreating to tease the crease of my thigh. “I want you to feel just how good it can be when you surrender to me completely.”

I’m panting, my body strung tight as a bowstring, aching for release. He’s been teasing me for what feels like hours, his fingers dancing over my skin, bringing me to the edge of orgasm only to pull back at the last moment. It’s a delicious kind of torture, and I can’t decide if I want to beg him to stop or to never let this end.

His hand leaves my thigh, and I brace myself for the next wave of pleasure. But instead of his fingers, I feel something else—a shadowy tendril, cool and slick, probing at my rear entrance. I gasp, my eyes flying open as it slips inside me. I feel so full, like every part of me is alive and buzzing with feeling.

“Shh,” Krampus soothes, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “Just feel, little mate. Let yourself go.”

The tendril moves inside me, sliding in and out with a steady rhythm that has me writhing against the table. It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt—not exactly painful, but intense and overwhelming, pushing all my buttons at once.

And then, just when I think I can’t take any more, he brings his hand down on my ass with a sharp smack. I cry out, the sound echoing off the stone walls, as the tendril inside me pulses in response.

“That’s for running away from me and putting yourself in danger. You’ve been a bad girl. Twice.” He chuckles.

He spanks me again, the sting of each blow sending waves of heat radiating through my core. “And that’s for denying you knew me.”

The tendril inside me seems to feed off my reactions, growing thicker, stretching me in the most deliciously wicked way.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice filled with dark approval. “Let go for me, Clara. Show me how much your body craves this.”

I’m lost in a sea of sensation, every nerve in my body alight with pleasure and pain. My breath comes in short, ragged gasps, each one punctuated by a smack of his hand against my ass. And all the while, the tendril inside me is relentless, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

He’s edging me again, his hand abandoning my ass to tease my clit, his touch light and maddening. I can feel the orgasm building, a tide of pleasure rising within me, but every time I get close, he pulls back, leaving me gasping and desperate.

“Please,” I beg, not caring how needy I sound. “Please, I can’t take any more.”

But he’s merciless, his fingers circling my clit with infuriating precision. “You can,” he assures me, his voice a low growl that makes my whole body tremble with need. “And you will, for me.”

And then, finally, he gives me the command I’ve been longing to hear. “Come for me, Clara.”

His words are like a spark to tinder, igniting the fire that’s been building inside me. The orgasm rips through me, waves of pleasure crashing over me as I scream his name. The tendril inside me pulses in time with my contractions, drawing out my release until I’m limp and panting, my body slick with sweat.

Krampus withdraws the tendril, and I feel suddenly empty, a whimper escaping my lips as the aftershocks of my orgasm ripple through me. He releases my wrists and ankles from the chains, and I collapse against him, my body too weak to support itself.

He catches me effortlessly, his arms strong and comforting as he cradles me against his chest. “Such a good girl,” hemurmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You did so well for me, Clara.”

My heart is still racing from the intensity of my release when Krampus pulls me into his arms. His voice rumbles against my cheek, a deep promise that makes my stomach flutter with anticipation. “We’re not done yet, little mate.”

The world around us shifts, the stone walls of the chamber melting away to reveal a grand stage. Spotlights blind me, and I cling to Krampus, my fingers curling into the thick fur of his cloak. An audience surrounds us, their presence a palpable hum in the air, but their faces remain hidden in the darkness beyond the lights.

I’m suddenly aware of my new attire—a corset cinching my waist but leaving my breasts free, heels that elevate me just enough to feel his dominance. I’m exposed and vulnerable, but the heat in Krampus’s gaze makes me feel like the most desirable creature in existence.

He guides me to a sturdy swing, its chains glinting in the harsh stage light. I sit, the cool leather against my bare skin a contrast to the warmth radiating from his body. He positions me so that I’m open to him, my legs dangling on either side of the swing.

His fingers trail along my inner thigh, and I suck in a breath as he attaches a clamp to my sensitive flesh. The pressure is intense, a mix of pain and pleasure that sends a jolt straight to my core. He attaches another to my nipple, and then another to the other one, each one increasing the exquisite ache between my legs.

The audience watches, their excitement a low murmur that fills the theater. Krampus stands before me, his eyes locked on mine as he begins to push the swing. The gentle motion causes the clamps to sway, the sensation making me whimper with need.

He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re doing so well, Clara,” he praises, his voice a seductive whisper that makes my body tremble with excitement. “Such a beautiful, brave girl.”

I can feel the pleasure building again, his words and the movements of the swing pushing me toward another orgasm. But he denies me release, his hand moving away just as I’m about to tip over the edge.

“Not yet,” he chides. “I want you to come for them, to show them how well you can take your pleasure.”

I’m panting now, my body aching for release. He plays me like a finely tuned instrument, and I can’t decide if his touch is a gift or a fucking nightmare. The audience’s anticipation hangs heavy in the air, their breaths and whispers merge into a single, throbbing pulse.

And then, with a flick of the side of his claw, he sends me over the edge. My orgasm crashes over me, waves of pleasure radiating from my core. I cry out, my voice echoing through the theater as the audience watches, their excitement mirroring my own.

The stage fades away, replaced by the softness of furs beneath my naked body. We’re in a tower now, the glass ceiling above us revealing a mesmerizing display of the aurora borealis. Krampus looms over me, his naked form shifting into something monstrous and beautiful. His cock is enormous and pre-cum glistens at the tip.

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