Krampus has been striking fear in the hearts of children for centuries, rewarding the good ones and punishing the naughty ones, all the while suppressing his submissive nature. Now times have changed, and his existence is nothing but an empty spectacle. He wants more. He wants to be a good boy. He wants everything a dominant like Tom can give him.
Tom is a lonely dominant searching for his perfect sub, and while he met many lovely submissives at the local clubs, he hasn’t found The One. But he hasn’t given up hope, and he dons his Krampus costume for the December 5th Perchten-themed night determined to have a good time. He’s taken by surprise by a tall, muscled man whose costume looks a little too authentic, sitting alone at the bar, declining requests from beautiful subs who just want to be spanked. If he isn’t interested in doing the spanking, what is he there for? Tom is determined to find out.
“Hi, I’m Tom.” A straightforward approach was always the right approach, as far as Tom was concerned. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
The stranger looked up at him, and Tom realized that he wasn’t just wearing a mask. He was in full prosthetic make-up that moved realistically with his features when his eyebrows rose in response to Tom’s approach. It was exceptionally well done, Tom imagined it must have taken hours to get that on him. Definitely too long to be having a miserable time with it.
“I know, because I’d have remembered a pretty face like yours.”
Really though, it was his stature that Tom didn’t recognize, and that probably said a lot more about Tom than it did about anything else. It was definitely an indicator of just how much time he spent here and in one of the larger places the next largest town over, prowling for the sub that would fit with him long term. Despite the fur of the costume, the man was slight in the shoulders. He was incredibly tall, that much was obvious even while he was sitting. The stranger made a chagrined face, glancing at Tom for just a moment before looking down at his drink before looking up again, this time not at Tom.
Tom followed the direction of his gaze to the exhibition area behind the bar, where another guy in a much less high quality Perchten getup was giving a lucky young man a real good spanking on an elevated platform. A small crowd had gathered around them, watching with interest.
“That looks like fun, doesn’t it?
Tom waited a beat but the man didn’t answer, he did tilt his head to the side a little though, like he was inclined to agree.
“You like the platform?”
Still no verbal response, but Tom wasn’t dissuaded. The man’s body language was a little more encouraging now, turning towards Tom as he spoke. Tom could see one long, shapely leg hugged in tight, black leather poking out from under the bar.
“I’m not much of an exhibitionist myself, but some subs seem to like it.” Tom took a sip of his drink. “I bet they like you, too.”
“They do.” His voice was low, gravely like he didn’t use it much, but he sounded defeated.
“But that’s not what you’re looking for.” It wasn’t a question, and Tom pitched his own voice lower, softer. Meant for the man’s ears only. “You’re here for something else. Go on, maybe I’m your Father Christmas tonight. You wouldn’t be the first sub to get their wish list granted.”
That got his attention, though his reaction was deliberately subdued, his whole body tensing the moment he realized he was turning towards Tom too quickly. As if to cover it, the man took a sip of his drink. An impressive feat, given the dentures that he wore to pull his mouth into a proper scary Krampus grimace. Someone had to have helped him get all this so right, a real professional at this kind of thing.
“Why’d you come over here?”
Tom leaned his elbows on the bar so he wouldn’t crowd him too much. The guy was nervous, and whatever he was seeking, he either wasn’t sure he was ready to ask for it, or didn’t think Tom was the one to get it from.
“I don’t know. Why does anyone talk to anyone in here? I liked what I saw.” Tom gave him a little smile, taking a swig of his own drink. A series of micro-expressions crossed his face, too fast for Tom to register anything but dread and disbelief.
And that was when he realized that something was strange. Prosthetics couldn’t move like that, not even the best ones in the world. This wasn’t just a guy in the best costume he had ever seen ...
