The Snowmaiden, A Bride for Krampus

by Jeanette Lynn

  “Don’t hurt me.” My voice came out squeaky and high. “I’ll- I’ll cooperate-” Though I shook like a leaf, I placed my hand gently over his. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t- Please, don’t hurt me.”

  “Saff,” he rumbled out in that deep, three tongued, stilted way of speaking of his. Cocking his head, eyeing me, his hand turned and he cupped my face in his palm. Leaning in, he sniffed at my head. A snuffling chuff left him, and then that churring coo of a purr started up and he rubbed his cheek along the other side of mine.

  Even if I was relieved he was claiming I was safe with him, I was still squirming with unmet needs from the Krampus bites littering my body. Like the adrenaline keeping me alert and moving freely was the only thing keeping me upright, I felt every biting sting and oozing wound, big bruises and small as of yet to show, as the fear spike from it all ebbed.

  I never thought I’d be fighting my body like this, desperately trying to ignore it all, vacillating between unreasonably horny and physically hurting beyond reason. As if to top off this crap cake, I could feel my milk once more coming in. Awesome, just what I needed, topped off titties to ache all night long with the rest of me, and just refill right back up if I tried to manually drain them, because magical Krampus crap was shit!

  “Not to be a sick fuck or sound like a perv,” I mumbled as my gaze fell, “but you wouldn’t happen to, uh,” my hand lifted weakly, gesturing from his mouth and the terrifying lower jawed tri-split it sported, and these titties, “be interested in, uh…” Nope. I couldn't bring myself to invite him to help a gal drain the jugs, not with that mouth. “I’m cold,” I said instead.

  “Hunman brrrr,” he grumbled, green eyes lightening as he nodded once. Garbling out a string of beastly gibberish I took to assume it either didn’t matter I wasn’t aware of what he was saying, he’d forgotten who he was talking to and my lack of three tongues to even try to begin to repeat any of that, or it was to soothe him or me, maybe both. “Brr no,” he said suddenly, slowly, then scooped me up as he had once before and bounded towards the mini pool. I wasn’t ready when he walked to the edge, mimed sucking in air to hold it, and jumped right in. A shriek left me and then we hit the water and I was screaming beneath it. It was hot, almost too hot. My hands flailed, then grabbed at him. When I had my hands fisting the longer fur on his back, by his shoulders, he released me, leaving me to cling to him, to kick his way back to the surface.

  A shocked gasps left me as we resurfaced. My hair was all over the place, plastered to me, in my face, stuck under my arms, clinging to my back. A thick hand brushed my soggy locks out of the way, green eyes studying me with a curious look when I spluttered incredulously.

  He looked so oddly puppy-like in that moment I couldn’t help but laugh. A grin so wide it began to show the seam where his tri-split mouth opened began to show. At the sudden panicked look on my face as I felt all the blood drain from my bean, his smile fell but his eyes remained puppy dog happy twinkling.

  “Baumbel,” he said with a grunt and lift of his chin, tipping his head to show me his throat as a whirring chirr filled it, rattled. Exposing the loose skin all that fur helped hide, he kept this up. Turning, short, stubby pointed ears cocked as he kept one eye on me.

  Like the blue crystals lining the inside of the mountain, tiny little spots along his neck and curling around his ears lit up.

  As I sat there clinging to him, shaking, trying to ignore things that were making themselves known as he kicked his legs to keep us afloat, jostling us, with me rubbing up on him, my legs locked onto a seriously thick waist, I glanced around in amazement. No pain. Discomfort, yes, but no more pain. Taking stock of my person, my eyes widened. Not a single fresh puncture. They were there, yes, but where they’d been red and tender, bleeding, the flesh was now an off white and blessedly pain free. Wriggling around a little, then regretting it, wincing as my clit rubbed his furry belly, I had a different kind of pain riding me.

  That funny churring he made started up again, and with it three strange antenna looking tendrils on either side of his head raised. Short, thin stemmed protrusions with tear-drop-bulbed ends, that glowed with that crystal blue light, waved gently in the air. Standing out just above his fur, tentacle like attachments, I wondered as to their purpose.

  Frowning, noting it seemed a little brighter in here, I gasped as my gaze was drawn to the water. The crystal pieces lining the deep well flashed, glowing in a dazzling display.

  “You’re doing that,” I whispered, grinning suddenly. My gaze met his and he went to smile again but grunted and frowned, as if he remembered his toothy displays frightened me.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “You can smile. I won’t freak out. You know, just don’t eat me.” Going for a laugh, it didn’t sound like I found any of this humorous in the least. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I licked my lips. He wasn’t attacking me or trying to frighten me. He’d saved me, helped me, and now he’d healed me. The Baumbel was my savior in all this.

  I had to admit, for a big bad scary mountain monster, there was something… sweet about him, endearing.

  Was I really thinking the Baumbel was cute? You know, when he was being all super sweet and cuddling and wasn’t going tri-face split to bite a head off and spit it out.

  Watching him watching me, adjusting my hold on him so my arm was resting on his shoulder, taking a chance and curling my fingers over the back of his neck, my free hand lifted, hesitant. Biting my lip, I was just about to reach out and touch one of those glowing tendrils, see what it felt like, adjusting my grip on him with my legs to get a better reach, when a deep, clipped series of guttural churring sounds left him and he grumbled, “Baumbel.”

  My hand shot back at the sound, wondering if he was rebuking me. “I’m sorry. Oh my god, I didn’t know,” I blurted, bringing my hand to my chest to cradle it between my breasts.

  The action drew his gaze to my cleavage, of which the girls had not let up and were slowly starting to leak. Ripe coconuts the size of melons. Who’s thirsty? Ugh.

  Softening his tone, rumbling softly in some beast speak, fast paced gibberish I had no hope of even trying to decipher, he leaned in. One of the hands moving to keep us afloat slid up my back slowly, testing its welcome. His forehead found mine, his tusks perilously close to my face, the ivory colored protrusions so large I could fit my face between them, touch his thick lips to mine, and still be comfortable. Green eyes found mine, held, as his hand slid up. My hips shifted as my heart rate instantly kicked up.

  The jabbering gibberish never ended, a steady stream with that soothing tone as he smoothed a hand over one of my breasts, taking note of the fullness, milk leaking from the tip, and just as gently set it back down. Noting my wince, he brushed his chin along my hairline and then pulled back.

  Grabbing onto the edge of the lip of the pool, he turned us and began to heft himself out. With a series of clicking noises in his throat, he had his beast pet creature hopping up to disappear. Once he’d cleared the pool, he pressed his hand tightly to my back and began shaking himself out like a wet dog. Along for the ride, a laugh burst out of me. It was just so damn weird it hit my funny bone.

  Pausing, tentacle ear bulbs popping back out, I noted other little glow spots, like large freckles, cropping up on his large frame.

  “That’s pretty cool,” I murmured, running my fingers over a glow spotted section near his bicep.

  That deep, guttural churring started up. Much calmer as it cropped up this time, I glanced up at him and pressed my hand experimentally to his chest. One of my eyebrows arched and I cocked my head. “You’re… purring?”

  He did it again, both of his hands going to my back to hold me to him easily. He seemed content to just hold the drippy haired, damp human. Beasties got friendly real quick up in here.

  “I’m almost jealous,” I mumbled, smiling when he did it so long and loud the noise sent me tingling from head to toe.

  “Baumbel,” he fairly barked at me.

>   Staring at him curiously, wondering what I was supposed to say to that, I tapped his chest. “Baumbel.”

  Frowning, glancing between my boobs and my face, one of his hands slid from my back and he tapped my chest with a loud grunt. Tapping it too hard, and my butt not ready for the heavy thump to my sternum, I yelped, overcorrected, and tumbled to my side. Grip on him loosening as I flailed, I probably would have landed on my fool head if he hadn’t caught me.

  “Oh- holy… night, let’s not do that again,” I spluttered.

  Beast pet thing came back then, those funny orange rocks in its maw. Dumping them near a small bowl-like indent near the platform bed, the creature nudged them into it with its nose and took a few steps back. A burst of thick blue flame erupted from its mouth that had the rocks instantly producing heat.

  A shiver traveled its way up my spine. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold in the air fighting the heat of the fire, or his pet had just freaked me out with the crisp you in seconds thing.

  Misinterpreting my reaction, Baumbel strode closer to the room-like space. Grabbing a couple of pelts from his sleep pile, he dragged them close to the rock pit and then set them down. Kneeling, noting my hesitancy with his beast companion so close, Baumbel let out another series of clicks and the beaked creature hefted its huge frame from where it’d started to get cozy, muzzle lifting to sniff in my direction, and slunk back to its pelt and bone. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was pouting.

  The hand sliding down my shoulder brought my focus back to the Baumbel. “Hunman,” he tried again, then grunted, like he was prompting me for something. His other hand slid over my chest, one large hand spreading wide, spanning my breasts to settle over them. “Hunman,” he said, then grunted as if to prompt me.

  Leaning over near the heated rock fire to wring my hair out, careful not to do so too close to his pelt, I wasn’t expecting the hand that came towards me, boldly reach out to touch my hair. Flinching, I made to jerk away but stopped myself. He wasn’t hurting me. He’d saved me. He seemed genuinely interested in helping me. I needed to remember that.

  His churring whir started up. He was so close and doing it directly at me, tingles raced up my spine. Those warm and fuzzies moved on to tease elsewhere, sending gooseflesh pricking my skin for reasons of the still sensitive with the sexual needs not yet met, unfulfilled variety.

  Watching me watching him, my eyes wide, gaze sharp, he started to lean forward, leaning in to gently brush the top of his head just under my jaw. When I stiffened but didn’t protest, his churring grew louder and his explorations grew bolder. A soft gasp left me as his mouth found purchase, lips teasing my collarbone to work his way farther south. My hands were clenching the fur beneath them as a thick tongue slid from between his thick lower lip and thinner upper and that wide appendage rasped over my breast. My sex clenched, thighs burning as I went to shove them shut automatically as if to hide the evidence of the direct affect his attentions were having on me, to find them blocked by the thick thighs already having found a home there.

  His face nuzzled a little harder, as if to urge me to lie back. He nudged too hard and I flopped backwards, catching my weight on my elbows. The action shoved my chest forward, pressing the hardened bud he was tormenting towards his lips. When he latched on and hungrily sucked, a shriek of a squeak left me. My hands slapped to his head at that first drugging pull. This was nothing like a Krampus encounter. Baumbel was working my breast to appease a different kind of hunger than a Krampus’.

  Glowing eyes found mine as he laved, gently lapped, nipped at the treat he’d found, full of hunger, carnal heat. My heart pounded, the place between my legs aching to be filled slick with want.

  Releasing one breast, he prolonged the torture by working the other one. I was grateful as the pressure building in my aching breasts eased, but a sense of urgency took over.

  My hands buried in the fur at his nape and his fat, fluff covered head, holding him to me. Squirming on the thigh wedged between my legs, I was all set to wriggle my way and dry hump the heavily muscled tree trunk of a hunk when he let my breast go with one last noisy suckle.

  “Baumbel Hunman,” he rumbled out like a contented cat. But when he went to lower himself over me as if to finish this wild mess we’d started, he hesitated when I tensed up.

  Of course I tensed up. One part of me was saying Hell, yes, snowbeastman, show me what weirdness you’re packing, while the other half of me wanted to cringe away from him instinctively.

  Easing himself off of me slowly, eyeing me like he was wary I might break, he hefted himself up and sat on his haunches. Pressing a hand to his chest as he slid his legs out from beneath him, he scooted back and flopped to his ass. Churring mixing with a rumbling purr, he propped himself up along the end of his sleeping platform, legs spreading to accommodate the fat purple head of a curved shaft thick in the middle and thickening as it slowly slid free from a slitted pouch of skin that housed his sex.

  Crotch pocket, I thought. He has a crotch pocket. The unbidden words slid through my subconscious, whispering at me tauntingly not to laugh at the odd word choice as it struck me.

  He grunted as his thick buddy jutting out fully emerged, bobbing there with a little bounce as it literally sprang forward.

  Bounce if you’re hung.

  A small giggle escaped me, loon that I am, as it jerked at my wandering gaze. Another giggle left me and my hand slapped to my mouth.

  As if he enjoyed my reaction and avid admiration of his person, a deep, bone jarring rumble tumbled from his lips.

  I was already crawling towards him, shaking with want and more. He was inviting it. Why couldn’t we…? If only just this once? Or twice… thrice. Swallowing hard, throat feeling drier than my lips, I was just between his legs when his purr jerked to a tinnitus inducing, engine idling, cacophony of thunderous vibrations right there at my face. My hand fell to his thigh, slipping through the thick mat of fur to glide upward. A fullness at the underside of his shaft began to show, until his cock was curving upward sharply and the feelers behind his ears were angled towards me, wriggling like they were eager to make contact.

  Color showed, bright blue packed bulges around the fleshy pocket that housed his genitalia. Whereas Shnikel’s Elkfen bratwurst was nothing to laugh at, Baumbel boy over here was sporting a thick kielbasa. I was sure it didn’t help that as it swelled a swirling strip of white, like a vein that bulged when it was at the height of readiness, popped up to stand out against the violently light purple overall color of his uniquely shaped snow alien beast man peen.

  I didn’t care. I was confident I could take him. I was so hard up to find my own release I was willing to mount that beast to ride us both home.

  “Hunman Baumbel,” he rumbled out gutturally.

  “Lumi,” I murmured as I climbed up his thick thighs, situating myself over him, until my hands were at his shoulders, body lined, primed and more than ready to slide down that swirl patterned cock of a barber pole. “And you, I’m going to assume by your vehemence, seem to just go by B-b-b-baumb!” My words spluttered off on a stutter as I began to slide down his pole and his leg jerked, kicking mine out and knocking me off balance to send me slamming down atop him. My pussy swallowed him up in one big assed gulp, complete with slurping noises, followed by a long moan. Seated atop him, a testicular like bulge pressing into my backside slapping at my perineum, I felt impaled. I was almost afraid to move.

  The slithering bulge pressing into my clit, nestled into his crotch pocket, for lack of a better term, had no qualms about wriggling around in there, pressing and teasing until a fat, glowing blue bulge with a pointed tip burst free to slap wetly about the place. I nearly jumped when the hot appendage tapped my clit. My sex clenched and I shifted, then began to move in earnest.

  We both groaned as the action sent his cock jerking and my inner walls clenching around him. Slowly, I began to work my hips, rocking on and gradually picking up the pace as I learned what he liked, what I liked with his uni
que anatomy, until I was gripping his shoulders, nails digging in, riding him with abandon.

  Grunting, grumbling guttural gibberish, grabbing onto my thighs just above my knees to knead the spot, squeezing it rhythmically to the pace I set, he made no move to take over. This was my show and he was allowing me to run it. I held no illusions I was really in charge. Baumbel was allowing me to have a turn in the driver’s seat. And I was loving every minute of it.

  That pleasurable hum building in my body grew until I burst. I came with a sucked in breath, trembling with the force of my climax.

  With a sharp growl, I felt my Baumbel friend come then, grabbing at my hips to grind himself up into me and hold. His spend was hot, releasing in short bursts. His body jolted along with his cock at every harsh jerk as my channel convulsed.

  When the heat of the moment had cooled, I flopped heavily against him. A long sigh left me that his heartfelt rumble matched. “We should do that again some time,” I mumbled, lifting a hand to pet at a thick, rounded shoulder. The male was just humongous, big all over.

  A thick hand came up, both of the thumbs on either side of his big ol’ mitt curling into my hair to sift through it. “Loo-me Baumb,” he purred with that churring whir.

  “You are kinda the bomb,” I murmured breathlessly, then chuckled. “It’s rather fitting.”

  “Loo-me Baumb,” he muttered, then shifted so he could keep us joined and lean in to nuzzle my hair. A small chuckle left me as his whiskers tickled.

  Allowing myself this moment, I melted against him. “We should totally do that again,” I blurted, sliding my hand up his shoulder to bury my fingers in the fur at his nape.

  A sharp gasp, followed by a startled laugh, escaped me as he cupped my rear in one hand, the back of my head in the other, and tipped me backwards. A squeak left me as my back met cold cave floor, and then a big, furry purring demon was covering me with his body, enveloping me in a mass of muscles, fur, and heat.