3
He wasn't wrong. I felt drunk on the attention, on the taste and smell of so many supernatural creatures surrounding me, all wanting a piece of me. My own cock throbbed, but I still didn't touch it. There was something deliciously torturous about focusing solely on their pleasure.
The vampire was next, his cool member sliding between my lips. His hips moved with inhuman speed, fucking my face with practiced precision.
"Such a warm mouth," he hissed, fangs extending in pleasure. "I could feed on this feeling alone."
When he came, his cum was like ice against my tongue, a shocking contrast to the minotaur's warmth. I swallowed it down, shivering as it coated my throat.
The incubus grabbed my hair and turned my face toward him. "My turn again," he purred, his violet eyes glowing with lust. "I've been saving up for you."
His ridged purple cock slid past my swollen lips, the bumps and grooves massaging my tongue in the most delicious way. The incubus fucked my face with long, deliberate strokes, each one hitting the back of my throat.
"Take it all," he commanded, his clawed hands gripping my head firmly. "Show these others how a proper cocksucker works."
I hollowed my cheeks, sucking with renewed vigor. His pre-cum was addictive and otherworldly. I worked him with everything I had, my hands reaching up to massage his balls, which were heavier and hotter than any human's.
The incubus's wings unfurled suddenly, stretching to their full span as his orgasm approached. "Fuck!" he shouted, his cock pulsing between my lips. "I'm cumming!"
His release hit the back of my throat like liquid fire, burning pleasantly all the way down to my stomach. It was thicker than the others', almost syrupy, and tasted like the most decadent dessert I’d ever had. I moaned around him, gulping down every drop.
It was only a few seconds later when I felt my head pulled to the side and the werewolf stuffed his cock in my mouth. The moment the hot shaft hit my tongue, he was cumming, his balls pulsing as he pumped his load down my throat.
And then it was the orc’s turn.
The orc gripped his massive cock and stroked it furiously, his tusked mouth open in a snarl. Unlike the others, he didn't want my mouth. Instead, he aimed directly at my face and chest.
"Mark him," the incubus encouraged, still breathless from his own release.
With a guttural roar, the orc erupted. Thick, green-tinged ropes of cum splashed across my face and chest, some landing in my still-open mouth.
His seed was bitter and salty, completely different from the others.
I licked my lips, savoring the strange taste as it mixed with the remnants of the other monsters' releases.
The kitsune was last, his lithe body trembling as he approached. His fox-like features were flushed with desire, his multiple tails swishing excitedly behind him.
"Such a hungry mouth," he purred, sliding his shimmering cock between my lips. "I bet you could keep going all night, couldn't you?"
I nodded as best I could with him in my mouth, my jaw aching deliciously from overuse. The kitsune's cock was slender but long, and it tasted faintly of wild berries and magic. He came quickly, his release sparkling on my tongue like champagne, effervescent and intoxicating.
When he pulled away, I slumped back against the edge of the bath, utterly spent yet somehow still hard and aching. My face and chest were covered in supernatural cum, my lips swollen and red from use. I felt gloriously filthy and used in the best possible way.
"Look at him," the vampire said appreciatively. "Covered in cum and still hard as a rock."
The incubus chuckled, reaching beneath the water to brush his clawed fingers lightly along my neglected cock. I gasped at the contact, my hips bucking involuntarily.
"He hasn't touched himself once," the demon observed. "Such restraint deserves a reward, don't you think?"
The others murmured in agreement, but before anyone could move, a hush fell over the bathhouse. The music, which had been pulsing steadily in the background, suddenly cut out. The colored lights dimmed, leaving only an eerie red glow illuminating the steamy room.
"He's here," the kitsune whispered, his tails bristling with excitement.
A low, rumbling laugh echoed through the space, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The water in the bath rippled despite no one moving.
"Who's been naughty?" a deep, resonant voice boomed.
I felt a shiver run down my spine. The crowd parted, creating a clear path through the water directly to me. Heavy footsteps approached, and I found myself unable to move, transfixed by what was emerging from the steam.
A massive figure emerged from the steam, easily seven feet tall with broad shoulders and a chest covered in dark fur. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight of him. Krampus. Not someone in costume, but the actual demonic entity himself.
His skin was deep crimson where it wasn't covered by thick black fur.
Massive curved horns protruded from his forehead, gleaming like polished obsidian.
His face was elongated and bestial, somewhere between a goat and a demon, with amber eyes that seemed to burn from within.
His mouth was filled with sharp teeth that glinted when he smiled, which he was doing now, directly at me.
"Well, well," Krampus rumbled, his voice like thunder rolling through the bathhouse. "What have we here?"
He strode through the water, which steamed and bubbled around his powerful legs.
I noticed his hooved feet clicking against the tile floor of the bath.
Between his thighs hung the most impressive cock I'd ever seen.
It was as thick as my forearm, ridged with veins, and tipped with a flared head that glistened with pre-cum.
Behind him, a long tail swished back and forth, ending in a tuft of black fur.
"This one has been very busy," the incubus said, gesturing to the multiple loads of supernatural cum still dripping down my chest and face.
"So I see," Krampus replied, stopping right in front of me. Up close, he was even more intimidating, his presence filling the space and making it hard to breathe. He reached out one clawed hand and tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his burning gaze. "But has he been naughty or nice?"
"Definitely naughty," the werewolf chuckled. "You should have seen his mouth at work."
Krampus's nostrils flared as he leaned down, inhaling deeply near my neck. "I can smell the sin on him," he growled, his hot breath washing over my skin. "And something else... frustration. Anger. Resentment."
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from those hypnotic eyes. "It's been a rough day at work," I managed to say, my voice hoarse from my earlier activities.
"Ah," Krampus nodded, his horns catching the red light. "Working on Christmas Eve while others celebrate. That would make anyone... bitter." His clawed finger traced a line down my throat to my collarbone. "Tell me, mortal, do you believe you deserve punishment?"
The question hung in the air between us. The entire bathhouse had gone silent, every creature and human watching our exchange with bated breath. My cock pulsed, harder than it had ever been.
"Yes," I whispered, surprising even myself with how desperately I wanted it.
Krampus's smile widened, revealing more of those wicked teeth. "Perfect," he growled, his voice rumbling through my chest. "Come with me."
He extended his massive clawed hand. I hesitated only a moment before taking it, my fingers seeming tiny against his palm. The bathhouse crowd parted as he led me out of the bath, water cascading off my body. My legs felt shaky—whether from kneeling so long or from anticipation, I couldn't tell.
The crowd watched in silence as Krampus guided me through the bathhouse.
I'd been here dozens of times, but I'd never seen the door he was leading me toward.
It was tucked behind a curtain of chains in the darkest corner, carved from dark wood and covered in symbols that seemed to writhe in the red light.
"Only the naughtiest boys get to enter here," he rumbled, pushing the door open with ease.
The room beyond was unlike anything in the rest of the bathhouse.
Dark red walls were lined with implements I recognized from my late-night browsing sessions—paddles, floggers, crops, and switches of various sizes.
In the center of the room sat a sturdy padded bench, angled and equipped with leather restraints at strategic points.
Candles flickered from alcoves carved into the walls, casting dancing shadows across everything.
My heart hammered in my chest as Krampus closed the door behind us with a definitive thud. We were alone now, the sounds of the party reduced to a distant murmur.
"Strip," he commanded, though I was already naked except for the cum drying on my skin. I realized he meant something different when he gestured to a small alcove with a shower. "Wash yourself clean. I want a fresh canvas."
My hands trembled as I stepped under the warm spray, scrubbing away the evidence of my earlier activities.
I watched through the steam as Krampus moved around the room, selecting various implements and laying them out with deliberate care.
His massive cock swayed between his legs as he walked, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from it.
When I emerged, clean and dripping, he was waiting with a towel. He dried me himself, his clawed hands surprisingly gentle as they moved over my skin. But there was nothing gentle in his eyes—they burned with a predatory hunger that made my stomach clench with anticipation.
"On the bench," he ordered. "Face down."